Arman Abandoned Mine (3)

As the standoff with the Rockhart Merchant Group's veteran knights dragged on, three senior knights rose from their seats and surrounded me like a tightening noose.

They addressed me in gravely serious tones.

"Listen here, mage. We can't tolerate any more of this nonsense. Retract your mana now."

"Exactly. We need to work together going forward—can't have things grinding to a halt already."

I didn't respond, instead drawing even more mana into myself.

At the same time, I activated Thought Acceleration to ensure I could react even if combat broke out.

The voices around me slowed to a crawl.

With the heightened perception from Thought Acceleration combined with the natural agility boost from my Mana Body, there was no way I'd be caught off guard.

"Hey! That's enough—I said stop! We can't just stand by any longer!"

"Lower your staff, mage!"

The three senior knights encircling me reached for their waists, hands drifting toward their sword hilts.

Then.

"I just don't get it."

Diren, the Shadow Union guild master who had been silent until now, finally spoke.

He flipped open a single book and fixed his gaze on the knight in front of me.

As Diren's mana spread through the book, it amplified and began to seep into the surroundings.

"Why won't you answer? Schulten."

Diren directed his question at the veteran knight facing me down.

At the same moment.

"Don't draw."

Beth's chilling voice, now cloaked in stealth, echoed through the room.

Her killing intent made the senior knights hesitate mid-motion.

That's when.

Whoosh—

Someone roughly flung open the entrance flap of the temporary tent.

Framed in the doorway stood a veteran knight clad head to toe in full plate armor.

"Everyone looks full of energy—glad to see it!"

With a booming laugh, the knight strode inside.

He took his familiar seat at the head of the table and continued.

"I'll answer for you. Nothing to hide here anyway."

Wilen, captain of the Rockhart Knights.

He smiled warmly and went on.

"Truth is, the mine's occupants surrendered to us. A total of thirteen Radiant Revolutionaries remnants."

Captain Wilen locked eyes with Diren as he spoke.

"Those remnants said the madman Restoff—who got bitten by the black mage's zombie—turned into one in an instant."

The madman Restoff.

Originally an elite NPC among the Radiant Revolutionaries.

If even someone like that turned zombie with a single attack, it was no wonder they were terrified.

Of course... that story from the so-called surrendered remnants was almost certainly false.

Undead weren't created that easily.

The remnants themselves were suspicious, but we could verify ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠that before heading out.

"Why ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠not say so from the start?"

"Embarrassing, isn't it? Even if they surrendered, cowering at the enemy's words like that."

"...!"

Captain Wilen's words made the veteran knight Schulten—who had been glaring at me—bulge his eyes in shock.

But before Schulten could speak, Wilen turned to me first.

"Even if the surrenderers lied, we can't confirm it at this stage. With undead displaying their full living prowess in this unprecedented crisis, we had to consider every possibility."

Captain Wilen spoke calmly and continued.

"We've explained everything... now it's your turn, mage. Why the commotion?"

Wilen met my gaze directly.

I had indeed acted aggressively, but there was no choice.

Missing this chance here would mean endless regret later.

"Getting bitten by undead doesn't turn you into a zombie. That's a lie."

"Proof?"

Captain Wilen's eyes sharpened.

I began my explanation slowly.

"Among black mages, those who wield death are called necromancers."

"I know."

"Have you ever fought one?"

"Dozens of times."

"Then you've seen them raise undead?"

Wilen paused thoughtfully before replying.

"No. At least, none of the ones I fought did."

"Exactly. Do you think commanding the dead is that simple?"

"...Meaning?"

Grasping my point, Wilen narrowed his eyes.

"Yes. Even raising basic undead takes a long time—let alone granting them such abilities."

"...So it's outright impossible?"

"Precisely."

Necromancers were, in a sense, a workshop-exclusive class.

Unlike golems, which required expensive materials to craft.

Necromancers needed only corpses and mana to raise as many undead as they wanted.

But that was purely from a cost perspective.

Farming the black magic catalysts for raising undead, and performing the rituals themselves, took a massive amount of time.

The rituals were finicky too—any combat would cancel them instantly.

If a mere zombie bite turned people undead, that thing inside wouldn't have stayed quiet this long.

It would've already gone to kill its master.

That was no exaggeration—it had been building power solely to slay its teacher.

Wilen, eyes closed in thought, finally spoke again as if decided.

"I get what you're saying... but that's hardly conclusive proof."

As expected.

Wilen seemed to understand intellectually, but with his knights' lives on the line, he had to be cautious.

"First, can I see those Radiant Revolutionaries remnants who surrendered?"

"Of course."

Wilen accepted readily and stood.

We followed his lead to a small shed built toward the back of the village.

Inside.

"......"

Thirteen Radiant Revolutionaries remnants sat with their hands bound, waiting.

"All surrendered yesterday. We planned to hand them over to the kingdom once the mine op wrapped up."

As I scanned the interior, Wilen quietly explained.

Without a word, I pulled a dagger from my inventory.

A black mage's ritual dagger.

I approached Diren beside me and whispered just low enough for the others not to hear.

"Could I borrow the Book of Rituals by any chance?"

"......"

At the book's name, Diren's eyes widened slightly.

His face said he had questions, but after a brief hesitation, he handed it over.

Ritual magic normally required a fixed altar.

But there was one exception.

With the Book of Rituals, you could perform ritual magic without an altar.

I opened the book ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠and set it down in front of the shed holding the surrendered prisoners.

Then I brought the Altar Ritual Dagger to it.

The ritual magic on those in front of me was revealed: False Form.

This ritual let you arbitrarily alter the target's appearance—a low-tier ritual.

It couldn't fully transform someone into another person.

Just minor changes to facial features, at best.

Necromancer rituals were advanced ritual magic, so only those with related ritual knowledge would even see the release option.

Thus, we couldn't confirm if a necromancer ritual was applied here.

I opened the shed door and stepped inside.

Noticing me, they all turned to stare in unison.

"......"

"......"

Silently, I approached the one at the front and nicked the tip of his finger with the dagger.

The prisoners inside showed no reaction, merely watching me.

"...What the hell is...?"

"Shh."

As senior knight Schulten started to speak, Wilen beside him pressed a finger to his lips.

I dipped the dagger lightly in the blood droplet from the man's finger, then returned to the Book of Rituals.

Placing the dagger on the book, I channeled mana into it.

The ritual on one remnant was dispelled.

And at that instant.

Slice—

Beth vanished in a flicker, only for a head to float into view inside the shed.

The head that rolled out was unmistakably that of a long-dead undead.

"......"

"......"

A brief silence fell.

Looking back inside, the prisoners all turned to us in unison.

"......Pfft!"

"Heh... hehehe......"

"Ah...... Busted?"

Shing—

Captain Wilen drew his sword, and in a flash, twelve heads soared through the air.

Yet even decapitated, they kept talking.

"But... what if everything we said was true?"

They got the last word in.

"Pfft... caught after all."

Deep inside the Arman Abandoned Mine, a hunched old man muttered softly.

The black mage Gerald.

As if the recent events were hilarious, he cackled and rolled on the floor.

One knight approached, clearly displeased by his antics.

"...Hey, black mage. Isn't it about time we got moving?"

Rodri, supreme commander of the Radiant Revolutionaries.

He urged the black mage lounging comfortably at the mine's far end.

"Didn't I tell you? Only if I return to the kingdom unscathed will I reveal the whereabouts of that book you want."

"Just wait a bit. Those fools will barge in soon enough."

"No, why fight them at all? Get up right now and...!"

"Heh... Rodri."

The black mage Gerald let out a dismissive snort.

"I'm keeping you alive because you know about that damned second prince's book. I want to know what the kingdom's other black mages are up to. And."

Gerald straightened his hunched back.

With a gesture, an undead knight shambled forward from the shadows.

A knight famed for his ironclad swordsmanship, now in undead form before Gerald.

The entire Radiant Revolutionaries force in the mine had been slain by that one knight.

"My goal is to claim all of them. That flimsy book of yours? Just a diversion."

"......"

Rodri wordlessly returned to his spot.

Having already lost to Gerald, he ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠could only be grateful his head still sat on his shoulders.