The Necromancer's Rampage
As I mentioned once before chapter seven, there isn't a huge difference between magic-engineered items and artifacts. Broadly speaking, artifacts are simply one branch of magic engineering. The special quality that elevates them to the status of luxury goods stems from their rarity. Simply put, it comes down to whether mass production is possible or not.
Unlike ordinary magic-engineered items, artifacts may lack versatility, but each possesses one outstanding function that sets it apart. That is what defines an artifact. Because of this, items like spatial pouches and other artifacts come in countless varieties, each reflecting the unique characteristics of the mage who created them.
Self-defense rods that spew fire or electricity. Clothes or bags made from fabric that automatically repairs any cuts over time. Music boxes that store pleasant memories so you can dream of them every night. Even jewels that shift through the entire spectrum of red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, and violet according to the wearer's current emotions.
Whether they're useful or not doesn't matter. Even artifacts with identical functions will have completely different spell formulas and traits depending on the mage who made them. That's why, among serious artifact collectors, it's common to see people who specialize in hunting down items from a particular mage, or who only collect artifacts that share the same function.
“Wow……”
Just because something was an artifact didn't mean it was necessarily better than regular magic-engineered goods. Among artifacts, there were occasionally pieces that were actually lower quality than mass-produced items. Nevertheless, people treated them as luxury goods and considered them special because most of what reached the market had already been carefully vetted and filtered by experts.
As long as you didn't get scammed at black markets or street stalls, you could obtain artifacts that were genuinely worth their price. And at department stores on the level of Grant's, you could browse the highest-grade items among those artifacts—whether in terms of function or aesthetics.
“Are you looking for anything in particular, miss?”
Nel had been wandering through the luxury goods section when she spotted the bourgeois uncle and his niece. The sight left her momentarily depressed, but she quickly pulled herself together. The place she headed to was the ninth floor of Grant Department Store.
The top three floors, including the ninth, were entirely dedicated to selling artifacts.
That's right. I've decided to treat myself for once. Let's go big.
Thinking about it, the academy's new semester was right around the corner. Since the Magic Sovereign also held the title of chairman, once the new term started, work would pile up for months on end. Naturally, that meant Nel's own workload supporting him would be enormous.
So, as a reward for everything she'd endured so far, and as encouragement for the hard work still to come, she would splurge generously. With that mindset, she had paced back and forth in front of the elevator countless times, causing endless inconvenience to everyone around her, before finally arriving here.
Yet the moment she reached the ninth floor, the solemn atmosphere of the artifact showroom overwhelmed her. She could only gawk around like a country bumpkin, letting out one exclamation after another. When the sales clerk noticed and approached with a smile, Nel felt a rush of embarrassment and hung her head low.
This is so embarrassing.
This was a place within the department store reserved exclusively for the wealthy. Someone who worked here must have found her behavior utterly pathetic. Were they laughing at her inwardly, thinking, What is this country girl doing in a place like this? That's how it always went in dramas.
In reality, the clerk was simply hiding the thought I want to hurry up and go home, watch a movie, and have a beer behind that professional smile. Unaware of this, Nel cleared her throat a few times to cover her earlier display and tried to speak as casually as possible.
“I'm just going to look around for a bit.”
“Of course. If you need any assistance, please let me know anytime.”
“Thank you.”
She was kind. There wasn't even the slightest hint of disdain or contempt in that smile—the kind Nel had feared due to her own inferiority complex. If anything, the clerk radiated a calm composure that helped soothe Nel's excitement. It was almost like watching a true professional at work.
Impressive.
Was this what they called professional spirit? Nel thought she ought to learn from it. Though, given how she spent most of her time buried in work and staring at computer screens more often than people, she wasn't sure how much customer service experience she'd ever actually need.
That's strange. The other secretaries always say they deal with people all the time.
Why was it that she, as the secretary to the Magic Sovereign—the second most powerful person in the country after the king—spent more time running errands for him than actually interacting with others? One major reason was probably that the Magic Sovereign stood so high above others that he had no need to worry about anyone's opinions.
To be honest, even Nel herself, despite being a public servant, had the confidence to march into a high noble's mansion and cause a complete scene, relying on the Sovereign's backing. As long as she did her job well, the Magic Sovereign would take care of everything else. There was no need to act like the subordinate; she could always behave like the one in charge.
But that was one thing, and this was another. Watching the clerk made Nel realize anew that in doing this job, she had forgotten how to carry herself with feminine grace.
Nel quietly watched the clerk's retreating figure as the woman turned away from the artifacts and moved on to the next customer.
“Hello, sir. Is there anything I can help you with today?”
She was greeting a new customer who had just entered the ninth floor with the same warm smile. The customer in question was a small child who barely reached her knees. Yet she still spoke to the child with perfect politeness and respect, maintaining the demeanor of someone in service without the slightest awkwardness.
Moreover, since the child had come alone, it was highly likely they had simply gotten off on the wrong floor by mistake.
…Wait a second!?
As Nel followed the clerk with her eyes, she suddenly realized the child's face looked familiar. She didn't know the girl personally. Or rather, perhaps she did in a way. The child was one of the two people who had completely crushed Nel's spirit downstairs just moments ago.
The uncle was nowhere to be seen—only the niece had come up. But Nel already knew exactly who she was from what she'd witnessed below.
She knew the sheer power of the money that girl possessed.
“Um, I'd like to take a look at the spatial pouches first, please.”
Just listen to that. The very first thing out of her mouth was a request for spatial pouches—one of the most notoriously expensive types of artifacts. It was on a completely different level from Nel's own vague plan of just pick one cheap, pretty artifact and go home.
“Spatial pouches are located on the tenth floor, not here. From the artifact showroom onward, there is a dedicated elevator. If you go all the way to the left, you'll see it. Would you like me to show you the way?”
“Ah, no, that's alright. Thank you.”
Don't look anymore. Don't feel envious.
As a public servant, the tenth and eleventh floors were realms completely beyond her reach. This was someone who lived in an entirely different world. All Nel needed to do was pick one thing she liked on the ninth floor and head home humming a cheerful tune.
Deliberately turning her eyes away from the child, Nel began walking properly to browse the artifacts in earnest.
Starting with the spatial pouches, I suppose.
Completely unaware that she had unintentionally earned someone's jealousy and envy, Arina hurried her steps toward the dedicated elevator.
The atmosphere felt incredibly oppressive. Items that practically screamed I am an expensive object! were displayed behind glass cases reminiscent of museum exhibits, gleaming with pristine brilliance. Honestly, it was intimidating.
The fact that she held a card that could obtain any of these things with just a few gestures if she wanted only made her feel more burdened. It was a rare sight for a child who possessed such power—most kids in her position would have lost all restraint. In a way, it was proof that she had matured relatively early.
“Oh, I like this one. I'll get this too.”
Right beside where she had just passed, another child was pressing fingerprints onto a clean glass case and claiming items for herself. In contrast to that behavior—
“Hm?”
Arina, who had absentmindedly walked past the other girl, suddenly widened her eyes. A child in a place like this? In Arina's case, her uncle had practically forced the card into her hand and made her come up. But as everyone knew, this was absolutely not a place for children.
“Oh?”
At the same time, it seemed the other child had noticed Arina as well. The moment their eyes met, the girl's eyes widened in surprise for the exact same reason.
Eyes that sparkled like captured starlight, a vivid blue. Lovely golden hair that flowed down like rich honey, full and bouncy. A truly adorable-looking child.
Just as the girl, driven by curiosity, began approaching Arina to speak—
“Kyaaaaaah!!!”
A sudden scream tore through the elegant, refined atmosphere of the artifact gallery. Both children whipped their heads around in shock at the sound. Their gazes landed on the elevator entrance connected to the floor below—the one Arina had just come up from.
A rather shabby-looking man was slowly walking into the heart of the artifact showroom. But the problem wasn't his appearance. The reason people were screaming was the sales clerk behind him—the same one who had politely greeted both Nel and Arina moments ago—now collapsed on the floor in a pool of blood.
“Kik.”
And in the man's right hand was the dagger presumed to have stabbed her. Drops of what was likely the clerk's blood fell from the blade with soft plops.
“Kikik.”
Staggering with an unsettling gait, the man burst into laughter. He looked like a madman. As he covered his face with his left hand and swept his hair back, the hood hiding his features fell away, fully revealing his face.
Hair that hadn't been washed in days, dry and split, sticking out wildly in every direction. A patchy, filthy beard. Sunken eyes. His gaunt cheeks revealed teeth that had turned yellow, with several missing entirely. It was an appearance that would make it nearly impossible for anyone to feel favorable at first glance.
He approached as if ready to carve up everyone in sight with the knife in his hand. The people around him felt pure terror and backed away.
“Stop right there!”
Before he could create more casualties, security guards rushed in and surrounded him. Despite how recently the incident had occurred, their response was impressively swift. The man who appeared to be their leader drew a magic bullet pistol and aimed it at the intruder.
“If you move, I will fire.”
“Do it or don't. I don't care.”
Despite the young warning, the intruder didn't stop walking. On the contrary, he looked at the guard with even more deranged eyes and opened his mouth.
“Don't you dare give me orders, you worms employed by that trash Grant family!”
Extreme emotional instability. The man who had been laughing just moments ago was now seething with rage, his eyes turning bloodshot.
Bang!
The security captain fired at the intruder's thigh to subdue him. But something swiftly moved in front of the intruder and took the bullet with its entire body.
“Graaaaah.”
A twisted, grotesque scream. Eyes rolled completely back, showing only the whites. Drooling saliva, joints bent at unnatural angles—the thing standing before them was the sales clerk who had just been stabbed to death by the man's dagger.
“A necromancer?!”
Black magic that controlled the dead. The moment they confirmed their opponent was a dark mage, every last trace of mercy vanished from the security captain's eyes.
Necromancers themselves were not wanted criminals across the continent. However, when a necromancer committed a crime, the punishment that followed was far more severe. The reason was simple: the scale of the incidents they caused when they set their minds to it was on an entirely different level compared to other crimes.
Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!
Continuous gunfire. It was unfortunate to damage the clerk's corpse, but they couldn't allow it to remain under the necromancer's control. The merciless barrage of attacks was meant to completely disable its functions.
Yet the zombie protected its head with both arms, shielding its vital points as much as possible, and charged at the security captain with a savage roar.
If it gets close, I'll smash its head.
The captain's eyes lowered calmly as he adjusted his strategy, watching the creature. The moment it lunged to bite him, he blocked the attack with his left arm and swung his right arm—the one holding the gun—hard into its head.
Crunch!
The mana-infused strike shattered the zombie's skull. With that, the opponent's summoned creature should have disappeared. He thought the incident was over.
“Gah!?”
At least until the security captain suddenly screamed and began convulsing.
“Now, let the chaos begin.”
Following the intruder's words, the security captain sank his teeth viciously into the neck of the guard standing right beside him.
Madness was contagious. Living people were forcibly turned into zombies as they bit one another. Like a spreading virus, the number of zombies swelled in an instant. The security team, thrown into confusion by the incomprehensible phenomenon, was wiped out completely. The zombies made from their corpses then charged at the other survivors, and just as the man had declared, true chaos erupted throughout the artifact showroom.
Uncle!
Watching the terror unfold with wide, fear-filled eyes, Arina squeezed her eyes shut. Her legs gave out beneath her, and she collapsed helplessly to the floor.