The Headless Messenger
The southernmost edge of the continent is a frontline fortress city bordering the monster-haunted mountain range. In the Giant Mountain, where all kinds of creatures make their home, territorial battles break out every single day. The monsters that lose those fights descend the slopes and hammer at the gates of Dorua. But the problem doesn’t stop at Dorua’s walls. Monsters appear without fail anywhere along the roads connected to the southern reaches. And right now, the same thing was happening in Belkan, the city sitting at the very foot of the Giant Mountain.
“Just how long are these goddamn orcs going to keep coming?!”
“Shut up and get your spear up!”
“These bastards won’t die!”
“Aim for the heads, not the bodies!”
The commander’s voice was raw from shouting. The soldiers under his lead gripped their spears tighter and stared down at the foot of the wall.
“Can we even hold this…?”
Beneath the battlements, a green tide surged and churned. It was an army of orcs.
Clang—!
In the end, the only sound along the wall was the clatter of weapons slipping from trembling hands.
“It’s strangely quiet.”
Marco stared at the distant forest and muttered under his breath. I shot him a glare.
“Why are you saying such ominous things?”
This man really knows how to jinx an entire situation.
“Orcs—whether the enemy is numerous or few, strong or weak—first measure the distance for an ambush. Then they catch the scent of laplasia sap and bolt.”
“I know that part. But why bring it up now?”
“The forest is too quiet. That’s what’s bothering me. We should at least hear the orcs fleeing from the smell, but there’s nothing. No animal cries either. And more than that…”
Marco said he was troubled that they hadn’t encountered a single traveler in three days on the road.
“Now that you mention it… yeah.”
Belkan and Dorua trade heavily with each other. They make up for each other’s shortages, so the road is well-kept and carriages pass back and forth constantly.
“At least one carriage should come through every couple of days. Yet we haven’t seen a single soul on our way to Belkan.”
“You think something happened in Belkan?”
“It’s too early to jump to conclusions… but just to be safe, I’ll speak with the merchant leader.”
Marco walked toward the front of the caravan. I watched his back and sighed.
“I hope it’s just needless worry.”
A little while later Marco returned.
“Fortunately the merchant leader seems to share my concerns. Sharp eye on that one—typical for a trader. Anyone else would have brushed me off.”
“That’s why he’s in charge, I suppose. So what’s the plan?”
“The caravan will halt progress for now and send a scout ahead.”
In other words, they were sending a reconnaissance party. In the distance I could see the merchant leader picking men. If they rode swift horses, they’d be able to confirm the situation quickly.
“Guess we wait, then.”
A flat rock nearby looked perfect for lying on, so I stretched out on it.
“This is going to eat up even more time,” Marco grumbled.
“Can’t be helped.”
Time dragged on endlessly. Afternoon slipped away, and the sky slowly turned the color of sunset.
“Isn’t this taking way too long? Did the guy stop for drinks and pass out somewhere?”
The messenger who had left that morning still hadn’t returned even as evening fell.
“This is strange. Did something happen to him?”
“The merchant leader looks pretty shaken too.”
With no word from the scout, even he seemed at a loss.
“We can’t keep wasting time like this. Everyone, prepare to move out!”
It looked like the merchant leader had decided to roll the dice.
“W-wait! Merchant leader! Someone’s coming from that direction!”
“The messenger? About time. Tsk.”
A horse galloped along the road with a rider on its back… except the shape was wrong.
“Why is its head like that?”
The figure on the running horse looked horribly off.
“It’s like a dullahan—it has no head!”
The horse itself was in even worse condition. Chunks of flesh had been torn away, blackish blood oozed like sticky tar, and worst of all, the horse was missing its head too.
“What the hell is…”
A headless rider and a headless horse charging down the road. Pure terror swept over the caravan.
“We have to stop it.”
I drew the greatsword from my back and severed the horse’s forelegs in one clean swing.
Thud—!
Horse and rider tumbled across the dirt, kicking up a cloud of dust.
“Whinny!”
“Kyaaak!”
Even without heads, their vocal cords still worked. The awful screams continued.
“It’s still moving like that?”
“Undead! This is an undead!”
Shockingly, the messenger we had sent had returned as one of the living dead.
“Goddess, I pray to you. Please punish this unclean existence!”
People across the continent fear and despise the undead. They are beings that instinctively crave life and seek only to destroy it; therefore they are considered impure.
“This… looks like a naturally occurring undead.”
“Naturally… occurring?”
There are two kinds of undead. The first are those deliberately raised by necromancers using mana. They receive powerful buffs from that mana, and because it is the worst possible desecration of life, necromancers are both feared and hunted. Of course, not all of them are evil. Some countries maintain strictly licensed necromancers under tight regulations because they do have their uses. The temples that serve the goddess hate it, though.
The second kind arises naturally from malice. Because it stems from malice rather than mana, these undead are weaker. But naturally occurring undead are objects of true terror.
“It’s contagious.”
Naturally occurring undead can infect other living creatures. That is what makes them so horrifying.
A pandemic phenomenon.
One minute it’s medieval fantasy, the next it’s suddenly zombie apocalypse. Fantastic.
Because of the completely unexpected chain of events, the caravan’s journey was canceled on the spot. We turned around and headed back to Dorua to prepare for an expedition to Belkan.
The mercenary guild had already posted a request. Anyone heading to Belkan was told to sign their name on the roster.
People were suspicious about a trading caravan returning so soon. Once word of what they had encountered spread through Dorua, the city hastily organized an investigation team.
“This request comes directly from the mayor to the mercenary guild. It must be carried out without fail.”
“Right after the swamp investigation fell through, now this. What the hell is going on?”
“Naturally occurring undead? That’s an incredibly rare case, isn’t it?”
“Quiet!”
The announcement that an investigation team would be sent caused the mercenaries to break into loud chatter. When the noise grew too rowdy, the guild master himself stepped forward to settle everyone down.
“It is contagious, but there’s no need to worry. Several priests will be accompanying the team, so there is zero cause for concern.”
“Yeah, with the priests’ holy power it should be fine.”
The divine power of priests who serve the goddess can purify the malice of naturally occurring undead and even cleanse those who have been infected.
“I’m signing up. If I can make a good impression on the priests, they might treat me better later.”
“How much are they paying?”
“Five gold upfront, plus another five gold once the investigation is complete.”
A request worth a whopping ten million won. Not many mercenaries would turn that down.
“I’m joining too.”
I intended to take part in this request myself. My original plan had been to use the orc ambush on the caravan as a nice leveling opportunity, but the sudden appearance of naturally occurring undead had ruined everything.
Damn undead.
“Just write my name here?”
“Hm? Wait—you’re that greatsword maniac, aren’t you?”
“Long time no see, guild master. And what did I say I’d do if you called me that nickname again?”
“Hahaha! Sorry. So please don’t smash my family jewels with that fist of yours. I was just happy to see a familiar face after so long.”
If you’re twice as happy, my bloodline might end right here.
“You’re taking this request too?”
“Yeah. I was part of the caravan that brought the news back.”
“Oh, really? Then this is basically your job lead.”
Close enough, but this is exactly the kind of job I’d rather pass on. I’m scared of zombies too. I have no desire to become one before I can live out my dream of being a knight.
The Black Shadow Armor should keep me safe. As long as I don’t get bitten, I’ll be fine. And if I do, the priests can just purify me.
Trials are necessary if you want to grow stronger. And my intuition told me that reaching level 10 would trigger something important. In games, level 10 is usually a turning point or the moment you unlock your first class change.
I doubt it’ll be any different for me.
I’m certain something special will happen when I hit level 10. For reference, my current level is 9. After enthusiastically slaughtering goblins, I finally reached it.
“Looks like everyone who wants to join has signed up.”
“Marco, you’re not taking this request?”
“The pay is tempting, I’ll admit… but my members are due back soon, so the timing’s bad.”
“Heh, it’ll be nice to see their faces again after so long.”
The twin sisters Lu and Lo with their dual blades. The shota Kun who wields a massive shield and mace and somehow stays weirdly popular with married women and older sisters. The excommunicated priest Godwin who loses his mind over both alcohol and women. And finally Resilda, the half-elf with perfect aim, burning red twin-tails, and a classic tsundere attitude.
When I really think about it, I have an absolutely amazing team.
I don’t envy the Avengers one bit.
“Once the members arrive I’m thinking of throwing a small party. You’ll come, right?”
“Obviously. It’s been ages since I last wrecked everyone’s livers.”
“Please drink in moderation. You’re not a dwarf.”
“I’ll control myself. Oh, and while we’re on the subject, can I invite Delgarm too?”
“That old dwarf? Do whatever you want.”
Sweet! It’s been way too long since I had a proper drinking party!