The Witch of the Solar Eclipse

The Empty Spirit Staff.

It was the item I had claimed after bringing down the orc mage.

Thaaaat thing!!!

The otherworldly soul shrieked at full volume.

"Can you come over here?"

I can. I'm a half-elf, after all!

What did being a half-elf have to do with hopping into a staff?

This is a place where a spirit once dwelled. Even if it isn't exactly this staff, the compatibility with me is excellent!

So even without an undead vessel, something could still serve as a container for a soul.

It seemed like a special case, but I filed the knowledge away for later.

No—more importantly, maybe I ought to start carrying a spare undead around for situations exactly like this.

Ahem. Hrrrm.

Dame Isra made her displeasure plain. This was her holding back; left unchecked she looked ready to settle things with an opponent she could not even see.

"There's a condition. You will swear an oath."

An oath?

"I'm pulling you out of there. I deserve something in return, don't you think?"

I'm nothing but a soul right now, so I have no idea what I could even offer. Fine. Tell me what you want.

"You."

Huh?

"I want you."

When I first met Dame Isra, Orc ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Zombie Mk. 42 had been standing right there, so I could force the soul into it. This one, though, had no vessel I could seize on the spot. Even if I transferred her into the Empty Spirit Staff, she might simply hop elsewhere later.

Hmm. All right. I swear.

That surprised me. Dame Isra had been stiff-necked enough when we first met. I still had no measure of how strong the soul in the staff truly was, yet a few exchanges were enough to tell she carried considerable pride. Someone like that agreeing to the deal so readily felt off.

Do not trust the words of a mage.

Dame Isra cut in.

A mage?

Indeed. A mage who delights in treacherous schemes!

Between the grim moniker "Necromancer-Slayer" and this… Dame Isra really did not care for mages, did she?

A breed that twists and deceives the laws of the world.

"I'm a mage myself, technically."

Sir is different!

In our society we have a name for that sort of double standard: "rules for thee but not for me."

"Let's give her ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠a chance."

An otherworldly soul this precious was only the second one I had ever laid eyes on in five years of hunting. Too rare to pass up.

I gave the Empty Spirit Staff a light shake. Strangers started staring as if wondering what the hell I was doing. Of course I looked strange. Embarrassment would last only a moment; I was claiming an otherworldly soul, so I could endure a little public humiliation.

The blue mass of light swirling around the Staff of the Chatty Sage slowly began to drift toward me.

Just a little more!

It was actually working. Half-embarrassed, half-awkward, I waved the staff about until the light finally seeped into it.

Yahoo! Freedom at last!!

Even after the otherworldly soul departed, the Staff of the Chatty Sage itself showed no special change. Good. I had been thrashing a stick at empty air like a madman; if one of the displayed heroes' weapons had shattered at that exact moment, I would have been hauled in for questioning without fail.

Thank you so much! Because of you I'm free!

The otherworldly soul chattered without pause. Answering here was impossible.

"Hold on a second."

Hm?

"I'll call you later."

Before she could reply I shoved the staff into the subspace carrier I had left open earlier.

Whew. Quiet at last.

Leaving the strange looks behind me, I strode quickly out of the National Museum of Korea.

Whew. I could finally breathe.

Do you truly place trust in the words of that chatterbox soul?

"I trust my own ability."

At least where otherworldly souls were concerned. A Necrosmith's power held absolute sway over them. Dame Isra herself had been forced into a zombie against her will, after all.

Then there was no need ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠to dance about with that staff, was there?

"The distance was too great."

Damn it. Just thinking about it again made my face burn. Drop the subject.

I drew a deep breath and steadied myself. Time to welcome a new subordinate.

The moment I took the staff in hand again—

Kyaa! Outside!!

—the cry rang through my skull. Prepared this time, the impact was not nearly so bad. I tapped the staff with a fingertip.

"Let's introduce ourselves properly."

Ah. Right. I never even gave my savior a proper introduction.

The blue mass that had been spinning around the staff came to a halt, almost as if offering a polite bow.

I am Ingrid Wygdrasil, Witch of the Solar Eclipse. My deepest thanks to my savior.

The Walpurgis Witch Society.

A cabal of witches powerful enough to stand above even the magic towers. Among them, the title "Solar Eclipse" was granted only to the exceptional—those who practiced single-line succession, inheriting mana and knowledge from generation to generation. Vast mana, encyclopedic knowledge of magic. Among the many "colors" of the Walpurgis Witch Society, black was the strongest and most feared. And at its absolute pinnacle stood the witch called Solar Eclipse…

"Which would be you, I take it?"

Hoho. You catch on quickly.

The otherworldly soul clinging to the staff beamed.

The greatest sword of a continent, and now the strongest witch. My luck was almost ridiculous. Or perhaps it had simply been abysmal until now.

"Dame Isra, ever heard of her?"

The name Walpurgis Witch Society is entirely unfamiliar to me.

"There must have been mages on the continent you lived on."

There were the Four Great Magic Towers.

Hmm. I had assumed otherworldly souls shared the same origin. Apparently not.

Since fate has brought us together, I shall serve you as my Master.

Huh? Moving a little fast, aren't we? She had been speaking casually only moments ago, and now the honorifics had snapped into place.

Vile witch! Do not seek to beguile my lord with that silver tongue!

Offering loyalty is beguiling now?

Who can say what schemes hide upon that tongue!

Wow. Knights really are the same no matter the dimension. Exactly the same.

All right, enough. My head was starting to throb again.

Forgive my disloyalty.

Please don't let that iron-headed one give you a headache, Master.

The Witch of the Solar Eclipse refused to yield a single inch. She was rather skilled at needling Dame Isra, in fact.

"Uh, Miss Ingrid?"

Call me whatever you like, Master.

"I'm going to put your soul into an undead. That all right with you?"

Of course. The grace of drawing me from that staff is a debt I shall repay until my bones turn to dust.

That might happen sooner than she expected. A witch… A Skeleton Mage would suit her far better than an Armed Zombie Warrior. Conveniently, I had already confirmed the materials at the Hunter Market. I could craft it the moment I reached the workshop.

Will you still make the afternoon schedule?

"I'll have to cancel."

I had toured the Twelve Heroes Weapon Exhibition and, completely by chance, picked up an otherworldly soul. Buying the necessary items at the Hunter Market and crafting an undead would leave no room to arrive by one o'clock.

Whew. Good of them to be understanding. Tomorrow I would bring an extra ten magic stones as thanks.

A medium to circulate spiritual power. The magic-release tool also had to be matched as part of the same body. I had originally planned to use the Empty Spirit Staff, but with a certain soul squatting in it I switched to Plan B without hesitation.

What else did I need…

That should do it. They offered a ten-percent discount for cash, so I paid everything by bank transfer. Over forty million won vanished, but I did not care. The money I had earned selling D-rank magic stones already exceeded a hundred million. What was there to fear?

"Kehehehehe."

Money really was the best.

Everything I bought went straight into the subspace carrier. Back at the new workshop, the place felt sparse with only the bare minimum of tools left out.

Master, what are you planning to do?

"Exactly what I said earlier. I'm going to make an undead."

You're a necromancer?

"Close enough. Necrosmith."

Fascinating. Even the knowledge of the Solar Eclipse has no concept like that.

Wait a second.

"You know necromancer-related knowledge too?"

Yes! Among the knowledge of the Walpurgis Witch Society is the art of commanding the dead.

Then it might be possible to control undead through the witch as an intermediary.

Impossible with a Skeleton Mage.

A razor-sharp answer. Still, I had learned of a new possibility. The mere thought that I might one day stop having to fiddle with every single corpse myself sent motivation surging through me.

"Let's begin."

I released the orc mage's corpse from the Death Space.

I laid it on the workbench and swiftly separated flesh from bone.

It requires more work than an Armed Zombie Warrior.

"At least I don't have to swing a hammer."

Skeleton-type monsters demanded that ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠every scrap of meat be stripped away. Tedious, but there was no choice. How nice it would be if a mage type existed among zombies. Perhaps it would appear once I reached a higher realm, or once I developed one myself. For now, impossible.

I carved additional spiritual circuits throughout the bones and arranged every catalyst and material I had just purchased.

"This one goes in too."

Is that not the heart of a mutant Bottom-Dweller?

"It has excellent compatibility with magic-type undead."

I nestled the carefully saved heart inside the ribcage and linked it as one body through further processing and spiritual circuits.

"Open your eyes."

Mana drained away in a rush. The bare skeleton lurched upright. Crimson radiance seethed within the empty sockets, and a pale aura welled from the orb gripped in its hand.

Unlike the Armed Zombie Warrior, no entirely new undead species had been born. I had chosen partial reinforcement within an existing framework rather than radical redesign; that was probably why.

"Ingrid."

Yes, Master.

"This is the body you'll be using from now on."

Crafting an undead with your own hands and then uniting it with a soul… A skill of considerable rarity.

"Already analyzing my abilities?"

Hoho. Habit, I'm afraid.

The shimmering mass of light drifted closer from the staff.

May I make one suggestion?

"Anything."

I would like this staff incorporated into the body's construction as well.

The staff?

"You mean the Empty Spirit Staff."

I did mention earlier that I am a half-elf, did I not?

"You did."

With Master's ability, you should be able to unravel the wood and arrange it like muscle fibers.

The staff's structure looked as though it had been tightly wound like thread. She wanted me to unwind it and weave the strands among the bones.

"That would destroy the staff."

My soul will hold it together.

You claim to serve as a vassal, yet your mouth runs smooth as oil!

"Dame."

One short word and Dame Isra fell silent. Sorry. Still, this was an otherworldly soul I had obtained with difficulty. Whatever happened, we would try it once.

Shhhrrrk!

I applied the slightest force and the staff went limp, unraveling like silk. The Empty Spirit Staff divided into five slender branches—now far more like actual twigs. Using Corpse Processing, I twisted them throughout the skeleton.