Chapter 168
Chapter 168
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Translator: crow
Chapter Title: The Coffin of Blood and Iron (2)
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"Tower Lord!"
The indigo robes draped over their bodies seemed to boast an unusually distinctive elegance.
Numerous masters of the Blue Mage Tower had gathered in one place.
They were truly the elders, teachers, and guiding lights for mages everywhere.
However.
Not right here. Not right now.
"..."
Frozen Breath Palrag.
The mage tower lord lifted his head from his desk and stared at them.
"What is it?"
His tone and expression dripped with unfiltered annoyance, as if he were dealing with some immature brat.
It was an attitude that would normally be unforgivably rude toward the mage tower's masters.
However, the masters didn't mind it in the slightest.
"The research we mentioned before has been completed. We've compiled the research log and brought it with us. Would you like to take a look?"
"..."
Palrag's eyes narrowed.
Soon, he clicked his tongue and spoke.
"I thought something major had happened since you all came swarming in out of nowhere."
He averted his gaze from the masters and spat out the words.
"Just leave it there."
"...!"
The masters' eyes widened at Palrag's attitude.
Undisguised surprise appeared on their faces.
The masters thought to themselves.
'As expected, the tower lord had high hopes for this project too...!'
They felt immense pride in having lived up to the tower lord's expectations.
'He's so thrilled about it!?'
That attitude just now.
It was extremely rare to see the tower lord this pleased.
"Rishir!"
Palrag spread his arms wide toward Rishir and shouted.
"Coming back so suddenly again and startling me like this! Don't you ever get tired of it!?"
Hahaha!
Palrag let out a hearty laugh.
"Palrag. You..."
The reunion with his old friend after so long was a shock.
Torben stared at Palrag with the most serious expression in the world.
The deep wrinkles asserting their presence amid his thick eyebrows and beard seemed designed to make stern faces effortless.
It wasn't for him—a man once called the insomnia manufacturer for young knights in the order—to say, but...
Torben had never seen anyone who suited the description of a grumpy old codger quite like Palrag.
A man who probably wouldn't smile even with a pretty grandchild right in front of him.
That was the Palrag in Torben's memory.
And yet, that Palrag was beaming with joy as he spoke to a fresh-faced young whippersnapper.
Even if his daughter-in-law came by with a toddler on her back, he doubted that smile would be any brighter.
Was that really him?
The same Palrag who treated even the mage tower's middling masters like annoying pests?
"I heard belatedly that Lord Palrag was discussing this coffin with an acquaintance. Have I intruded where I'm not wanted?"
At that moment, the young man named Rishir spoke up.
His polite and formal demeanor was more than enough to win over any elder.
But.
Torben knew better.
He knew that the concept of formality held no value whatsoever in that grumpy wizard's mind.
He had only one interest. Magic.
'Since he's opened the coffin, it must be a swordsman.'
His past experiences. The clues at hand.
Torben's mind predicted Palrag's response.
—You know it's unwanted meddling. Yeah. The problem's out of my hands because of you now. I'll watch the results closely. What do you even know anyway.
The grumpy wizard's voice rang vividly in Torben's ears.
His plans, built on his own magical knowledge, had been disrupted.
Torben knew his old friend wasn't the type to take that lightly.
"You know it's unwanted meddling!"
See?
"Did you have to make this old man borrow your hands again to feel satisfied!? Hahaha! Just kidding, kidding! Rishir! Come here quick! Come on over and tell me what happened!"
"...Who the hell is that guy...! What kind of bastard imitates Palrag like that!!!"
Torben was so shocked he nearly drew his sword for real.
"Are you serious...?"
Palrag asked in disbelief.
This happened while Rishir was recounting the full story of the incident.
'Yes!'
Torben inwardly cheered at Palrag's reaction.
Suddenly raising the stakes.
Combining resonance and blue breathing.
Unleashing magic and swordsmanship simultaneously.
And what was with the divine power and spirits popping out of nowhere?
This wasn't a debate about swordsmanship; it was kid stuff.
Presenting that as his victory method in a swordsmanship discussion...
For Torben, who was uncompromising and fanatical about swordsmanship, it was torture to listen to.
Normally, he would have barked at him already.
But the reactions around him.
Rishir's group, led by Drey, accepted his words as a matter of course.
Even his own disciple, Gorean!
It felt like the whole world was ostracizing him.
Amid that, his old friend and former tower lord Palrag showed a normal reaction, which was incredibly reassuring.
Torben seized the moment and chimed in.
"Palrag. See? I'm not the only one who found that story suspicious."
"You too...?"
Palrag looked at Torben in surprise.
Torben nodded with full understanding.
"Yes. I think the same as you."
"..."
Yeah.
No matter how you look at it, it doesn't make sense.
Palrag nodded and muttered.
"For someone with abilities like Rishir's to exist is one thing, but another one too?"
"Right. Someone with those abilities existing again... Wait. Again?"
The topic shifted?
Before Torben could say anything, Palrag was already addressing Rishir.
"Impossible, Rishir. That spirit must have deceived you for sure!"
"Yes, just as you say, Lord Palrag. It came to light after the spirit's defeat, but it turns out the spirit was lying all along."
"...Ah! I get it! That's it! The spirit followed along thinking you were lying, and at the moment it countered with the power of advancement—"
"As expected of Lord Palrag. You understand right away."
"Wait, Palrag...!"
Torben couldn't hold back and spoke up.
"Combining blue breathing and resonance? That's not normal at all! You know that too."
"Ah. This guy's fine."
Palrag said matter-of-factly.
"...Oh, really?"
Torben had nothing to say and muttered the first thing that came to mind.
The matter of the coffin held grave significance for Torben.
What if things went wrong and the contents inside were damaged?
Torben didn't even want to imagine it.
And yet.
Leave such a critical issue to some nameless young man instead of the great wizard and friend Palrag?
The stubborn, rigid old knight couldn't stand it; his mouth itched to speak.
But—
"Master! My friend Rishir is a reliable man!"
"A friend? So you two weren't strangers?"
"We were strangers!"
"...What?"
His disciple's oddly insistent recommendation.
And on top of that—
"Torben. I guarantee it. When it comes to this, Rishir is more suited than I am. Trust him and rely on him."
"...Does he have a lot of experience with this sort of thing?"
"Rishir. What do you say?"
"Well, I've been through similar situations multiple times, but if you're specifying this exact scenario—it's my first."
"Excellent. Hear that, Torben?"
"...I heard, but which part of that story makes it 'excellent'?"
"He said he's been through similar situations multiple times."
"..."
His friend's recommendation, bordering on brainwashing, had already drifted far away.
Torben felt his mind reeling as he spoke.
"Rishir, was it? As Gorean and Palrag recommend, I'm thinking of entrusting this coffin to you... Is that alright?"
"I'll do my utmost within my power."
"Good... If you can extract the contents intact, I'll reward you generously. I leave it to you."
Afterward.
Palrag continued his investigation of the jewelry box that had emerged from the coffin.
"This must be it. The core of the barrier."
His wrinkled hand carefully caressed the red gem embedded in the center of the jewelry box.
Chanting spells or casting specific magic.
Palrag injected mana into the core in various ways.
Then, at one point.
The gem hummed with resonance.
It took on a red glow and began emitting that light.
The light expanded and contracted periodically.
Like a heartbeat.
The gem filled with light looked like a pulsing heart, and the light flowing from it resembled circulating blood.
Such vivid crimson radiance slowly encroached upon the room.
—Mage.
At that moment, a voice emanated from the gem.
A familiar voice.
The spirit from the coffin that had demanded a duel of swords.
—You cannot proceed further.
"Even so, I intend to open this coffin."
—Then bring a warrior.
"A warrior?"
—The beast of blood and iron responds only to the scent of blood and iron. Only a warrior with a pure and resilient soul can proceed further.
At the spirit's words, their gazes turned to one another.
A warrior with a pure and resilient soul.
Who in this place fit that description?
The answer came immediately.
Torben, the Gray Wolf who had lived his life as a swordsman.
No one was more suited than him.
Torben approached and placed his hand on the gem.
The red glow from the gem seemed obscured by his hand—
"Ugh...!"
In an instant, everyone in the place shielded their eyes.
Blinding light.
The red light from the gem became too intense to look at directly.
"This is...!"
Palrag's voice, laced with dismay, added to the ominous feel of the light.
"W-What's happening!? Is something going on!?"
As Gus shouted in panic, Palrag replied.
"This power... It seems to exceed our expectations. Everyone, brace for what's coming!"
The light gradually faded—
And after a moment.
"Where are we..."
Rishir muttered as he looked around.
They were now standing in the middle of a vast cavern.
"Seriously. Stick around this guy, and incidents never stop—... Hm?"
Thud.
Fienne, grumbling, looked down at the sensation under her foot.
There lay a rectangular coffin made of red wood.
Fienne and Rona beside her instantly recognized its purpose and contents.
"Rishir? There's a coffin here?"
"A coffin?"
At Rona's voice, everyone's attention turned there.
"Uh, uhhh!?"
Then.
Rona and Fienne hurriedly backed away from the coffin.
With a rattling sound, the coffin lid opened, and a skeletal arm protruded from the gap.
Clack.
And thud.
The skeleton soldier stood on the ground with both legs.
In its bony hand was gripped a plain iron sword.
"...Palrag. Don't tell me—"
Palrag nodded at Torben's words.
"It seems defeating that skeleton soldier will destroy this barrier and open the coffin at the same time."
Gorean let out an involuntary chuckle.
The sight of a scrawny, pathetic skeleton with only bones, wielding a sword to block his master's path, struck him as comical.
"Hah."
Torben felt the same, letting out a deflated sigh as he looked up at the ceiling with a hollow expression.
To think all that hardship until now was for this.
After that grueling journey, the trial awaiting them was this pathetic skeleton swordsman.
Torben felt a sense of emptiness at the anticlimactic end.
Of course, it wasn't entirely empty.
Shing.
Torben drew his sword.
His expression wasn't pleased.
And for good reason.
This was purely a clash of sword against sword.
Was there a simpler task for the Gray Wolf?
Torben was confident.
In this situation.
Right here, no one was more expert than him.
Therefore.
There was no need to borrow anyone else's strength anymore.
"Everyone, step back."
Torben said as he drew his sword.
His gaze was directed at Rishir.
"Looks like you won't have to trouble yourself after all."
"..."
Was it because the chance to make the Gray Wolf owe him was gone?
He stared at the skeleton swordsman with a dazed, peculiar expression.
In that instant.
The skeleton soldier flinched, then raised its sword-holding hand and examined it this way and that.
As if amazed that it was alive and moving.
And pleased that it still held the sword.
"..."
A chill!
Torben felt an indescribable sense of wrongness at the sight.
The hairs on his body stood on end, his pupils dilated.
It was a sensation utterly foreign to the Gray Wolf.
Thus, he couldn't accurately interpret the signal his instincts were sending.
The feeling of a weakling facing a superior foe.
"Gorean."
"Yes, Master."
"We'll charge together and end it in one strike."
"Yes! As you command!"
The priest drew his sword and took position.
Facing the skeleton soldier, they slowly advanced their front foot.
Even as the priest flanked left and right, the skeleton merely stared straight ahead.
There was no need to hold back against a mere skeleton soldier.
Swish.
Gorean stepped forward.
At that signal, the two swordsmen's bodies launched forward.
Strikes carrying excessive force for such a frail skeletal frame came from both sides—
And flesh collided with bone.
Splurt!
Slash!
The sounds of that collision.
"...!"
"Ugh!"
Wriggle! Wriggle!
Torn skin spewed blood.
The priests clutched wounded parts of their bodies as they retreated from the skeleton swordsman.
In the skeleton's opposite hand, which hadn't held the sword, a bloodied dagger had appeared.
Rattle.
The skeleton gazed at them crookedly.
Was it his imagination?
The skeleton seemed to wear an exceedingly aloof expression.
■ Recreated Nightmare ■
Specter of the Murder Demon (Blue Lotus Klana)
Level: 76