The Undying Siblings' Story (3)
If it had been an ordinary war, Wolfgang’s choice would have been poison rather than medicine. Using the undead—beings that inspired terror—would have drawn fierce backlash from other nations. The morale of the allied soldiers forced to fight alongside them would have plummeted to the ground.
When the comrade who died yesterday rose again as a mindless undead to fight beside you, would you feel reassured by their immortality first? Or would the fear of eventually becoming the same thing grip you instead? Unless someone was exceptionally strange, most would feel the latter.
But the Winter War was different in nature. Those who took part in it were descendants who had inherited, generation after generation, the experience of watching their own family and friends devoured by Wendigos for over a century.
Thanks to a hundred years of unimaginable horror, they already understood. It was far better to rise and fight than to leave a corpse out of respect only for it to become another meal. In truth, the girl only turned those who volunteered into undead upon death. Even so, the proportion of soldiers who willingly enlisted in the undead legion exceeded seventy percent of the total force.
That was why Wolfgang had chosen the girl. Undead or not, the Wendigos right in front of them were the greatest enemy. It was a truth everyone, including herself, already knew.
Once the girl officially joined the legion under Wolfgang’s command, Wolfgang at least stopped being unilaterally overwhelmed by the Wendigos. The undead proved far more useful than expected. From reconnaissance and sentry duty to stalling tactics that tripped up the enemy in battle—the Wendigos recovered their wounds by consuming human flesh, but they could not devour the undead at all.
Thanks to that, Wolfgang was no longer pushed back to the brink of total defeat. Of course, she had merely obtained the strongest shield; her offensive capabilities were still relatively lacking. Her flames could kill Wendigos, and the Sun Iron forged with those same flames could kill them too. But being able to kill a monster and actually killing it were two different things.
“The undead can’t seem to wield Sun Iron.”
“Yes. It appears Your Excellency’s flames carry a power that repels evil.”
“This is annoying. It would have been better if the power only worked on Wendigos.”
“……So? Are you going to discard me now that I’m useless?”
At the time, the girl still lacked conviction. Though she had been drawn to human warmth and taken the hand that was offered, she constantly asked this question, trembling with the anxiety and fear that she would one day be abandoned. Because she was anxious. Because she was afraid. So she persistently asked until she received reassurance again. Only then could she feel at ease, even if only for a brief moment.
Ah, here we go again.
That was the girl’s perspective. From Wolfgang’s viewpoint, having to deal with every single instance of this, there was no greater nuisance. It was practically on the level of a soldier starved for attention. The PTSD Wolfgang had developed while serving as a squad leader in the military threatened to resurface, but she swallowed a sigh inwardly and calmed the irritation that had flared up.
It was true she felt a little annoyed. Still, she had no desire to earn the resentment of a girl whose strategic value was so precious over mere emotion. Therefore, there was only one action she could take here.
“Now that I think about it, you said earlier that you couldn’t remember your name.”
“Yes. I don’t know what trick the liches played, but I simply cannot recall it.”
“Natasha Hellflame.”
“……Pardon?”
“That is your name.”
The girl, suddenly given a name, was bewildered. Of course receiving a name wasn’t a bad thing, but who wouldn’t be flustered when someone randomly bestowed one out of nowhere?
“What do you mean by that all of a sudden?”
“A name is the foundation and beginning of the relationship between people. When people meet, don’t they introduce themselves by name first?”
“……Does that mean you see me as a person?”
Though she had not become a lich, it was still difficult to call her a living person. She commanded an undead legion and could bring the dead back to life. Could such a being truly be considered human?
Wolfgang fell silent for a moment, then pointed at the undead standing like a statue beside the girl. Clad in black armor, he was her older brother, resurrected as a Death Knight.
“You have family you hold dear.”
To the girl, the Death Knight was nothing more than an undead she could resurrect even if he died. Nevertheless, she hated not only her brother dying, but even the thought of him getting hurt.
“You eat, sleep, and live just like the living.”
“……That’s—”
“Above all, you possess a human heart.”
“……!!”
“So why do you say you are not a person?”
She cherished her family, did not want to be betrayed, craved human warmth despite being close to the undead, and constantly sought reassurance out of fear that she might lose that warmth. The girl had believed all those behaviors existed because she was a necromancer. But to Wolfgang, who had seen every kind of human during her time in society, the girl simply looked human.
“I told you earlier. A name is the beginning of a relationship.”
“That means……”
“Yes. From now on, the relationship between you and me begins. Understand?”
The words Wolfgang spoke while pointing at her own chest filled the girl’s empty heart to the brim. Feeling a surge of emotion, the girl spoke without thinking.
“……Then, may I call you Mom from now on?”
“At least call me Unni.”
That day, the girl received the name Natasha and gained a precious family. Only then did she realize what she had wanted from the very beginning was a family that would never betray one another.
The moment she realized that truth, the girl—no, Natasha—had thrown herself into Wolfgang’s arms. Thanks to that, Natasha did not see the expression Wolfgang made in that instant.
Just as planned.
With this much, she should bother me less now, right?
Yes, from that moment on, Natasha began devoting her loyalty to Wolfgang alongside her brother Dena. She was even willing to throw away her own life. Fortunately, Unni always stepped in to stop her each time. In truth, that was exactly why Natasha stopped taking care of her own body. Because then Unni would worry about her. Because then Unni would look only at her!
In the beginning, there had been only the three of them—Unni, the two siblings, and no one else. But as time passed, more and more people joined as Unni’s subordinates. It wasn’t hard to understand. The real ones would immediately recognize Unni’s worth. Yet as the number of subordinates Unni managed grew, the time she spent paying attention to Natasha naturally decreased.
Her mind understood, but she hated that fact more than anything. Perhaps that was why, as the war situation turned increasingly favorable, more and more restrictions began to be placed on Natasha. Do not use humans to create undead. Do not cast necromancy on humans.
Surprisingly, Natasha accepted those restrictions willingly. She even welcomed them. Control was a collar. And as long as Unni held the leash of that collar, they would never be separated.
Natasha’s dark-circled eyes turned toward Wolfgang, who was dozing right beside her. Others might not see it, but to her it was clearly visible—the iron chain extending from her own neck, held firmly in Unni’s hand.
Some would call it control. Others would call it oppression and pity the girl. But if Natasha ever learned of such opinions, she would go beyond dislike. She would try to kill that person outright. How dare you interfere when you know nothing?
“Look at this collar. Isn’t it just lovely?”
It was proof that Unni was always thinking of her. It was also proof that the bond between them had never been severed. Yes, she loved the collar placed on her.
Perhaps now was the only brief moment she could express her feelings. After some hesitation, Natasha drew closer to Wolfgang. She usually suppressed the urge, but seeing Unni completely defenseless made it impossible to hold back.
She gently brushed aside the beautiful white hair, fully exposing the forehead beneath. Natasha carefully pressed her lips to it. In her heart she wanted to kiss a more certain place, but she would settle for this much today.
Natasha smiled and whispered.
“Unni, thank you for reaching out your hand to me back then.”
So I will love you. Even the collar you placed on me.