Chapter 179
Chapter 179
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: crow
Chapter Title: The Murder Ghost's Revival (2)
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Rishir suddenly recalled what Klana had said just before entering the barrier.
"Let me warn you ahead of time. You should steel yourself before stepping inside. Who knows? The insane murder ghost might suddenly throw a tantrum."
Rishir didn't dismiss it as a mere joke.
Klana.
Would that woman just let a situation like this slide?
It was like a cat passing up a fish.
Rishir remembered the moment he first faced the murder ghost in his inner world.
His vision had flipped in an instant.
When he regained his senses, he was already pinned beneath her.
A swift ambush in close quarters.
Just like a cat or predator whose hunting instincts were second nature.
That gaze was as haughty as a tiger looking down on its prey.
In truth, if the inner world's dominance hadn't kicked in, he would've been helpless prey.
He was certain.
Klana, having reclaimed her body and broken free from the inner world's dominance.
She would pounce again.
Of course.
It wouldn't be the same kind of hunt as before.
A game, perhaps.
Or a test.
For instance, the words Klana had left behind were a kind of signal.
In response, Rishir had every sense on high alert.
The murder ghost who had taken back her body.
No matter what game she threw at him—
No matter what ambush she launched—he was ready to counter with skill.
...But this ambush was one he hadn't seen coming.
Kyaaak! Seriously.
'A real insane whim...!'
The murder ghost had been coldly critiquing his own body moments ago.
Could such a shy squeak really come from that murder ghost's mouth?
And her appearance.
The naked Klana was hunching over as tightly as possible, arms shielding her snow-white skin like even the slightest exposure was unbearable.
Standing there wasn't the domineering murder ghost.
It was a defenseless woman, lost in shame and uncertainty.
The ambush(?) had succeeded spectacularly.
Rishir felt his mind grind to a complete halt at this unfamiliar Klana.
If she charged him now, he wouldn't manage a single reaction.
"D-Don't come any closer! I w-warned you...!"
However.
Instead of a fearless lunge, Klana opted for trembling threats that bordered on begging.
Rishir raised both hands to calm her first.
Then he slowly backed away, creating distance.
Dray, Palag, and Halona followed his lead.
"..."
At their actions, Klana's panic visibly ebbed.
She was still flustered, but the raw terror had faded sharply.
Her expression eased with relief as she slowly retreated.
The charged atmosphere settled into a tense standoff.
Rishir, who had waited for precisely this, turned to Halona at once.
"What in the world is going on!?"
Palag and Dray, who had felt the murder ghost's terror in their bones from the prior clash, wore dazed expressions as they joined in questioning Halona.
"Why...? Why is the murder ghost like that?"
But Halona's response was a doubtful murmur.
The ritual's outcome had strayed far from her predictions.
Rishir shot her a skeptical look.
What was this.
This person.
All that bold confidence earlier.
Was she secretly a total airhead?
"...Ahem."
Halona snapped out of her reverie under that gaze and spoke up.
"It seems some unknown variable interfered."
"An unknown variable?"
"Yes. The murder ghost's ego was influenced by something, veering from its true nature."
For example?
Palag's question.
Halona pondered it.
"For example... its ego's rank has grown stronger than before. Enough to impact everything acting on it, ritual included."
The chance of the murder ghost's ego evolving.
Halona hadn't given it a second thought while prepping the ritual.
No need to, from the start.
A disembodied human soul elevating in rank?
Even among the rare few hailed as heroes or saints postmortem amid mass veneration, it was extraordinarily uncommon.
For the murder ghost—long erased from history, her name known to scarce few—it was unthinkable.
"What on earth..."
Halona muttered, baffled.
Rishir ventured cautiously.
"Ah. Could it be... me?"
"...What?"
"It happens now and then with my travel companions."
"...So the murder ghost's ego ranked up because it tagged along with you."
Does that even make sense?
A rarity even for time-honored heroes.
Just from traveling with you?
Halona nearly pressed him.
"Ah! So that's it!"
"Makes sense now."
But Dray and Palag's reactions froze her half-open mouth awkwardly.
'What makes sense?'
Halona shelved the nagging doubt.
Digging deeper risked turning her into one of them.
"...Anyway. That threw the ritual off course, leaving the murder ghost like this."
Rishir glanced at distant Klana and nodded.
"So Klana lost her memories."
"No."
"Pardon?"
"The deviation isn't memory loss. It's her hostility toward you—screaming, warning you off."
"...More details, please?"
Halona surveyed the barrier's communal interior.
"The murder ghost's flesh. The barrier sustaining it. What's their true purpose, in your view?"
"...Resurrection—not quite right."
"Correct. The maker didn't aim to revive the murder ghost. They sought to become her. So, what power does that demand?"
"Dominance..."
Palag murmured low.
"Precisely. The barrier's master wouldn't settle for reanimating flesh. They craved the imprinted power and memories revived—and claimed. Dominance is key. Fail that, and the murder ghost devours you."
"So... the residual dominance in the barrier and body forced this revival for Klana. Obedient to me, memories gone—"
Rishir reeled.
The resurrection's path diverged wildly from his vision.
'No memories. Blind obedience. No different from a golem.'
His expression twisted deeper with each thought.
Then.
He looked at Klana again.
"W-What're you staring at since earlier...! All sneaky glances! Spit it out if you've got something to say! Stop gawking!"
Klana's gaze.
The wariness in it felt oddly welcoming to Rishir.
"Memoryless or not, she doesn't look eager to obey me blindly."
"Your take?"
"Pardon?"
"Failure or success—which does her state lean toward for you?"
Rishir recalled Halona's pre-ritual words.
"Asking how I'd handle Klana's body... that was why."
"Close enough."
"Her memories won't just vanish like this, right?"
"Naturally. I'd have explained that crucial bit upfront otherwise."
Tap.
Tap.
Halona pawed lightly, gesturing at their barrier.
"Strictly, the ritual's incomplete. Like a portrait awaiting its eyes' dots. Wish it undone, and it reverts anytime. The murder ghost's ego frees from the flesh, returns to normal."
"Perfect revival impossible either way, so... choice time."
Rishir bristled at the unfairness yet grasped it.
Perfectly reviving ancient dead?
Deep down, he'd sensed it was too pat.
"...Hmm."
"Pardon?"
Halona's tone turned careful.
"As repeated: ritual derailed. Process, outcome—beyond my control. I don't know her current state."
"Then—"
"Brief window before finale. Observe her?"
"...Yes."
After.
All but Rishir and Klana exited the barrier.
To ease their talk.
"..."
Did the intent land?
Klana relaxed markedly.
From turtle-like huddle, she tentatively rose.
"Ah..."
But mid-motion, her nudity hit her.
Ah.
Right.
I'm—
She compacted tighter, fortifying the hunch.
"D-Don't come!"
Rishir stirred; Klana yelped in horror.
He pressed on undeterred.
"Here! Catch!"
He shed his jacket, folded it, tossed it over.
"..."
Then turned his back.
Letting her cover up.
"Hey, you."
Her voice, soon after.
"Can I face you? Or talk like this?"
"...Fine. Look."
Phew.
Rishir sighed relief.
Build gap helped; coat shrouded vitals decently.
"Close call. Right?"
If Klana never turned murder ghost, what kind of woman?
Rishir mused as he addressed her.
Klana eyed him oddly.
"Talking like it's unrelated."
"Pardon?"
"You lot brought me here, didn't you?"
"Well, hard to say."
"If not, explain. What happened."
"...First, Miss Klana. Anything ring a bell?"
"..."
She pondered.
"Ugh...!"
Soon clutching her head in pain.
"No clue..."
"No clue?"
"Memories won't come..."
"Nothing?"
"...Not nothing. Just— memories all... jumbled, like a shredded book."
"...!"
Rishir's eyes flew wide.
"Shredded book..."
That meant something lingered in her mind. A book, at least.
So memories endured.
'Ego intact—not erased!'
Expectations reignited.
Full revival.
Maybe feasible.
"...Rishir."
"...!"
His name.
From her lips.
She savored the syllables like novel fare.
"Rishir..."
Repeated, trailing, several times.
"...!"
Bewilderment flooded her face.
Skin warmed faintly.
Rishir.
Memory shards linked to his name surfaced.
Klana, composure cracking anew, fidgeted and averted eyes.
"Klana? You alright?"
"...Sorry."
"Pardon?"
"For calling you a pervert earlier."
"Pervert? Ah! No issue! Natural panic. Right?"
Rishir beamed.
Any young woman's look.
"...Thanks."
"Remember something?"
"Pardon?"
"Wall between us thinned. Or just me?"
"..."
She smiled softly, shook head.
"Nah. Imagination."
Straight gaze.
"Recalled your type—no, our bond. Faintly."
"Oh!"
Rishir inwardly whooped.
Memory 'recovery' signs emerging.
'This trajectory—pre-finale, originals could return—'
Then.
'Hm?'
Incongruity in her demeanor struck him.
She'd claimed recalling their tie.
Swordmaster and pupil.
Yet her manner? Overly ginger for a disciple.
'Uncertain still? Sure. Situation's weird. Can't boss me around off fragmented recall.'
Rishir rationalized, dropped it.
"Recalled you're harmless. Helpful, even."
"You trust me?"
"...Yes. Who else here?"
"Uh...?"
Thanks, he'd meant.
Dumbstruck instead.
She'd closed the gap first.
And clasped his hands in hers.
"I'll reclaim memories somehow. For you too."
"...Yes! You will!"
Flustered, he gripped back firmly.
After.
Rishir and Klana left the barrier.
He aimed to prep her a rest room pronto.
"Hold on, Rishir. I... your room together? Possible?"
"Pardon?"
Flustered, but intent dawned.
'Alone now? Unsettling.'
Post-deliberation.
"Absolutely sure?"
Murder-ghost Klana critiquing her corpse? Room-sharing with a stranger? Zero qualms.
Current her? Shame from nudity alone—normal mindset.
"What's it matter. Us."
Playful smile.
Not seamless, but worlds better than start.
That easy vibe chief.
'Truly recalled our tie.'
She was right.
He and Klana? Roommates no sweat.
"Yeah, true."
Mutual grins, relaxed.
And.
Via smiles, their bond reaffirmed.
That night.
Klana bathed in Rishir's room-attached bath.
Straight to sleep post-wash.
In his sole-bed room. With him.
"...Ah!"
Blank-staring Klana jolted alert.
"Fine. No worries. No tension needed. Him and me."
Self-soothing mutter.
She revisited that memory.
The shard evoking their link.
"..."
Unwittingly eyed her chest.
In the shard.
Teasing Rishir.
'Let you touch my breasts—...'
Undeniable conviction.
Their bond: bodies freely shared.
Lovers. Spouses.
"...Hm?"
Left arm glance.
It quivered, tensed against her will.
Like straining to throttle her own throat.