Necromancer's Nightmare

The architecture was a style Sir Isra knew at a glance.

"Iron Head's world?"

"Was the Cross Gate the Great Lord's hometown, sir?"

【Now this is an interesting tale.】

【Knight's. World.】

Each of the summons voiced their surprise in turn.

"Iron Head. So do you know what this ruin actually is?"

"I do not."

"You said it was the style of your world."

"To be precise, the crest on the pillars is familiar to my eye."

A vertical stroke dropped straight through the center of an X. The carving was so weathered that only the bare outline remained recognizable.

"So what does that mark mean?"

"It is the emblem of the necromancers."

"Uh."

A chill ran down my neck.

Necromancer Slaughterer.

One of the titles Sir Isra had claimed with her own mouth. She had said that with a single sword she had shattered the necromancer cabal that once plunged an entire continent into chaos.

And here, in the Cross Gate, was the very symbol of that cabal.

"Ahem. Ahem."

I never doubted Sir Isra's loyalty. Still, every time the word necromancer came up, an uneasy feeling settled in my gut.

【A ruin tied to the undead, is it? My interest has cooled.】

"Corpses don't tend to yield much of value, sir."

"Hmm. Do we really need to risk going in?"

All three summons had flipped their attitudes in an instant.

"We're still going."

I shook my head.

【Master. Danger.】

"This place is connected to Sir Isra. We might find something useful."

A ruin carved with the necromancer crest. Even a scrap of information about Sir Isra—or the world she once lived in—would be worth the trip.

"To cherish one's summons so… This maiden is moved by my lord's ocean-deep understanding."

"I'll search thoroughly for anything that might turn a profit, sir."

【Hmm. Examining the architecture of another world might not be so bad after all.】

The speed of that about-face was something else.

"M-My looord!"

Sir Isra came charging at me with damp eyes.

"Iron Head! Hey!"

Ingrid threw herself between us and intercepted the full-body tackle.

"I told you to stop flirting!"

"I merely felt my loyalty boil over."

"That was a bit much for loyalty, wasn't it, sir?"

Ugh. What a marketplace this was turning into.

"Stop wasting energy and let's head inside."

"This humble servant shall take the lead, sir."

Zaug entered the entrance with five Death Warriors in tow. The rest of us followed at a measured pace.

Tick. Tick.

Zaug prodded the walls and floor with a dagger, then shook his head.

"No traps that I can find, sir."

【Mana is circulating through the entire passage. It does not, however, seem dangerous.】

The atmosphere was nothing like the gate where we had discovered Zaug. Not a single monster. Not even one trap.

And that was not the only oddity.

"There's no corpse stench."

A necromancer's specialty was necromancy—raising the dead, or detonating corpses as weapons. The unique stench of the deceased could never be masked by perfume. Even when I used the basement of my studio ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠apartment as a workshop, I had to burn Clean magic scrolls on a regular schedule. No matter how thoroughly I scrubbed, the smell of corpses never fully left, and it had been a constant nuisance to the landlord.

"My lord cleaned?"

Hey. Why zero in on that particular ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠detail?

"Hmm. Most surprising."

"Master is pretty weak when it comes to cleaning and tidying up."

"This humble servant will handle it from now on, sir."

These brats.

Anyway. If this was a ruin built by necromancers, the characteristic stench of death should have been thick in the air.

Ingrid shot Sir Isra a skeptical look.

"Iron Head. Are you sure?"

"I am certain. Every soul who bore that crest was a necromancer."

The ruin nestled at the foot of the mountain slope was so quiet that our earlier tension now felt almost ridiculous.

At the end of the long corridor we emerged into a vast cavern. Five translucent cylinders stood inside.

"Those look like people."

"They are not the dead."

Both summons tilted their heads. Non-undead beings inside a place marked with the necromancer crest? What was this?

【Homunculi, it would seem.】

Megus solved the mystery for us.

Bubble. Bubble.

The green liquid inside the cylinders frothed over with foam. With a sharp crash of glass, the figures within shattered their windows and stepped out.

"This has become troublesome, my lord."

"Yeah, no kidding."

We had thought it was a necromancer ruin. Instead we had walked into a trap that cloned the strongest member of the party.

Sir Isra let out a short sigh.

"Even if there are five of me, they will not share my talent. It should still be manageable."

"Uh, Great Lord?"

Zaug pointed at the homunculi climbing out of the broken glass.

"It's not the Great Lord—it's this humble servant, sir."

"……."

The five clones were all Zaug.

"Pfft."

"Do not laugh."

"You said five of you would be hard?"

"I told you not to laugh."

"Wow. You were that sure you were the strongest?"

"……."

Sir Isra's face went scarlet and she hung her head.

Ingrid, who had been holding it in, finally burst out with a loud, unrestrained guffaw.

Well, Sir Isra did have room for an excuse. What was the measure of strength? The simplest yardstick was raw specs. Among the Resurrected, the pure stats were highest on Zaug, who was built on a Death Warrior base.

"I would make a request, if I may."

"Hm?"

"Those vile scoundrels who have beguiled my lord's eyes!"

The Fallen Knight's Longsword—an item I had crafted during the promotion exam—pointed straight at the homunculi.

"I shall cut them down with my own hand."

"Well, you are my First Sword."

"I mean alone."

Hmm. I wasn't sure about that.

"Pfft. Pwahahaha!"

"If there are five of the enhanced humble servant, even the Great Lord would have a rough time of it, sir."

【Does the code of chivalry not warn against pride?】

As Sir Isra had said, the fact that they did not share the Heavenly Martial Body was a major advantage. Even so, if they had copied Zaug's full stats and skill set, they were dangerous.

"They'll have Aura."

Assassination-type skills I could probably read with the perception enhanced by Heavenly Martial Body and Origin of Magic. But Aura—the innate power of a Death Warrior—was another matter entirely. Five of them coordinating with Aura. Allow even a single hit and it would be critical.

"Place your trust in me."

"All right. Then take them down by yourself."

"This grace I shall engrave upon my bones and never forget!"

Engraving it on the bones… wouldn't that just be the mana circuits?

"I shall now strike down those scoundrels. Withdraw as far as you are able."

"You want us to put distance between us?"

"Trust in me."

I had planned to jump in the moment she started losing ground. With her saying all that, though, I had no choice.

While the rest of the party put as much distance as possible between ourselves and the fight, the Zaug-clone homunculi simply stared at us without attacking. The things even had a sense of romance, apparently.

"Until the battle is finished, do not look back. Run."

What exactly was she planning?

In that instant, Sir Isra's entire presence changed.

Ssssss—!

An ominous current of power began to rise from her entire body. It was the same presence she had worn in Prague during the exchange match, when the living Sir Isra had scattered Aura with her own sword in hand.

"That again?"

"It would be wise to flee at once, sir. This is dangerous."

Ingrid and Zaug both looked horrified.

Why? What was it?

"You've seen this before?"

"Not with my own eyes. I only know the results."

Ingrid gave a brief account of the raid on the Chinese intelligence agency. So she had gone completely berserk and carved through multiple A-rank hunters by herself?

"KRAAAAAAAAHHH!!!"

Crimson-black Aura billowed like a living wind.

Slash! Slash-slash!

Sword scars carved themselves into the walls of the cavern. The Zaug-clone homunculi darted this way and that, dodging the savage storms of blade wind.

"She's going to burn through her mana at this rate."

Slash!

A gust of crimson-black Aura swept across one of the homunculi. A long gash opened on ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠its arm. Bubbling blood and mana were sucked straight into the wind.

"Insane."

She was draining the health and mana of anything she damaged? Pouring Aura across a wide area and siphoning power from the lightest graze. That was completely broken. Actually broken.

"Kak!"

The moment two homunculi leapt left and right, the blade winds that had been raging in every direction collapsed into a single forward torrent. One clone managed to peel away just before impact with the black gale.

"Kaaak!"

The other was swallowed whole. Not even a corpse remained.

"Uhhh, Great Lord? If we just stand here we're going to get caught in it, sir."

Ah. Right.

"She's completely lost it."

In this state, "my lord" or anything else meant nothing. That was why she had told us to run without looking back.

"We're gone."

Get caught in that blade wind and there wouldn't even be bones left to gather. For the first time in a long while I experienced, firsthand, what it truly meant to run until your feet sweated.

Shit. Sir… you're not going to come after me next, are you?

We waited outside the ruin for a long while. There was no telling when that rampage would end, so we had no other option.

After some stretch of time, Sir Isra emerged looking utterly drained.

"Those scoundrels have all been disposed of."

"Y-Yeah. Good work."

"Great Lord! You look rather exhausted, if this humble servant may say so."

Zaug bounced over with excessive energy.

"Shall this humble servant work the tension from your shoulders?"

"Begone. The only one permitted to lay hands upon my person is my lord."

Sir Isra brushed Zaug's hands away as if they were a nuisance. Ingrid and Megus both flinched; the tension in their eyes was impossible to miss. I herded the two of them along as well and we re-entered the ruin.

"Let's see what we've got."

Fortunately the deepest chamber had not been badly damaged. The facilities themselves had been wrecked when the homunculi burst free, but that was a separate matter. What mattered was what the ruin had been researching.

"Great Lord! Over here, sir!"

One was the anatomy chart of the weapons Sir Isra had just carved apart.

The other was a research journal.

With these two, we had probably stripped the ancient ruin of everything worth taking.

【Homunculi researched by corpse-lovers, is it? Now this has me quite excited!】

Old man. Stop translating your heavy breathing into thoughts.

That aside.

"Homunculi capable of recreating the strongest member of a party…"

If I could make them, they would be a real boost to our combat power. And since the knowledge was rooted in necromancy, it would also help with strengthening undead or creating entirely new ones.

I opened the research journal to the first page with high expectations.

Huh?

Sir… why is your name in here?