The Manager of the Legion
Simon pulled two lanterns out of his subspace pocket. He kept one for himself and pressed the other into the skeleton's bony hand.
"Let's go."
The skeleton led the way, and Simon followed close behind.
Inside the ruins, darkness swallowed everything. The chill of the stone floor crept up through the soles of his boots and sank into his legs.
There wasn't so much as a railing to hold on to. Every step was placed with care, driven by the thought that one misstep would mean instant death.
Wait a minute......
Partway down the stairs, he noticed strange characters carved into the walls—letters he couldn't begin to decipher.
And yet they felt strangely familiar. Had he seen them somewhere recently?
Simon dug through his memory.
That's it—ancient Rune Script!
They looked exactly like the ancient runes Professor Eric had explained during Jet-Black Mechanics class.
So this place was an ancient ruin? Then why on earth was it sitting right next to Kizen?
Churning over the pile of unanswered questions, Simon kept descending.
Tap.
At last he reached the bottom of the stairs and set foot on solid ground. He'd come down deeper than he'd realized—even holding the lantern overhead, he couldn't see the ceiling.
He needed to widen the search. Simon summoned his second skeleton, handed it a lantern, and gave the order to scout.
He himself walked slowly, sweeping his lantern across the surroundings. Ancient Rune Script covered every inch of the walls and floor, packed dense as scale on a fish.
Runes on this scale......
The ruin itself was, for all intents and purposes, one colossal magical device.
Clack! Clack!
Just then, the skeleton signaled that it had found something. Simon hurried over at once.
What is this?
At the heart of the rune-covered ruin stood an altar, and resting on top of it was a skull.
Simon set his lantern down on the altar and gingerly brushed the dust from the skull.
......
A prickling, unknowable dread crawled up his arm.
Simon didn't know much about undead lore, but even he understood this instinctively: these were the remains of an undead so old that its years could not be counted, and terrifyingly dangerous.
He carefully lifted the skull.
Rattle-rattle-rattle!
"Whoa—!"
The moment he raised it, a cascade of bones came pouring down from the ceiling. Simon scrambled backward out of the way.
"D-don't scare me like that."
The skeletons came over and cast the lantern light across the floor. Simon stared down at it for a long moment, then picked up one of the fallen bones.
"......Number two?"
He murmured to himself and slotted the bone beneath the skull.
It fit with a perfect, satisfying click—like the final piece of a puzzle snapping home.
"......"
A strange thrill began rising from somewhere deep in his chest.
He wanted to assemble this undead. If it woke, there was no telling what kind of monster it might turn out to be, or what harm it might do him.
Even so—if there was ever a moment in life when you had to place a bold bet, Simon thought, that moment was right now.
Mind made up, he set the skull back on the altar and placed his palm on the handprint visible beneath it. Then, just as before, he raised his Jet-Black.
Vmmmmmmmm!
"Ghk!"
He had barely stirred a sliver of power, yet it felt as though the Jet-Black in his very body was being sucked deep into the altar.
The altar pulsed with a murky blue-green glow, and a threadlike blue flame flickered to life in the skull's eye sockets.
Hmm. So that alone doesn't complete it?
Simon brought the number-two bone up to the skull.
Snap! It attached like a magnet the instant it touched. The peculiar 'attraction' unique to skeleton-type undead was at work.
Good.
Simon set the skull down and got to work in earnest.
As though bewitched, he fit the bones together one after another, and his hands had never felt surer. It was, by far, the most satisfying assembly of his life.
Cervical, thoracic, lumbar, sacral, and coccygeal vertebrae linked in sequence to form the spine. Ahead of it, the scapulae and clavicles joined the humeri; the ribs slotted in, and the upper torso took shape.
Working downward, he gathered the hip bones and set them beneath the coccyx to build the pelvis. Femur, tibia, and patella connected one by one, and the legs slowly emerged.
Studying nothing but Summoning from morning really paid off!
He couldn't be a hundred percent certain, but this skeleton was built on the framework of a 'human' body. Simon's instinct, reinforced by everything he'd learned in Summoning class, let him assemble the bones without a single hitch.
There was just one problem: the skeleton was far too tall.
Kneeling to assemble the spine, Simon soon found himself crouching, then straightening his knees, then rising onto his toes—until finally he was climbing onto the altar itself, grunting and straining as he worked.
It would have been nice if the skeleton had bent down to help, but it didn't take orders from him. The moment its legs were complete, it had risen to its full height on its own.
I should've done the arms first!
Grunting all the while, Simon finished the remaining arms. Then he stepped back and gazed at the skeleton with a heart full of awe.
"Woooow......"
A skeleton over two meters tall stood squarely before him. It was a sight that drew admiration out of him despite himself—yet still, it did not move.
"So what do I do now?"
Simon was crossing his arms, pondering—
FWOOOOOOOOOSH!
Brilliant moonlight came pouring down from the ceiling like a curtain of light.
The instant the moonlight struck the skeleton's skull, the flames in its eye sockets roared up like torches.
[Heh. Haha! Hahahahahahahaha!]
The ground and walls of the ruin shuddered beneath a colossal laugh. The runes began peeling from the walls in a flowing stream and settled over the skeleton's body like robes of silk.
The runes were being drawn into the skeleton's joints and absorbed.
[At last! At last, I have returned!]
At the thunderous shout, Simon clapped his hands over his ears. The Jet-Black erupting from the skeleton's body was like a violent, raging sea.
[Who woke me!]
The skeleton's head tilted and swiveled. Then it saw Simon, leaning against the wall.
Thud. Thud.
The enormous being strode toward him. Then it leaned its head all the way forward and studied him from inches away.
Simon had to fight with everything he had not to scream.
[Give me your name, human.]
"S-Simon Polentia, sir."
The skeleton's skull tilted sideways.
[You call yourself Polentia......?]
KeHAHAHAHAHAHA!
The booming laugh echoed through the entire ruin. Simon broke into a cold sweat.
[So that's it! Could it be—Richard's descendant!]
"No, sir."
Simon said, steadying his pounding heart.
"His son."
[HAHAHAHAHAHA! Yes! YES! So that's how it is! No wonder your Jet-Black felt familiar! No one but Richard could ever have woken me!]
The skeleton turned its back. Simon could see something like a cape of shadow rippling around it.
"......Who are you?"
This time it was Simon who asked. The skeleton stopped mid-stride and looked back over its shoulder with a wide grin.
It was strange enough that a skeleton had expressions at all—but there was no mistaking it. The mouth stretched, the nasal cavity flared, and the smoldering eyes gleamed with fierce curiosity. It was as alive as any human.
[I am Pier. Manager of the Legion.]
Pier declared.
[There was a time when your father Richard and I turned this continent on its head!]
Simon's eyes went wide.
That thing is my father's undead?!
Pier let out a hearty laugh, then thrust his head forward and went on.
[But first, I must ask. Who guided you to this place?]
There was an edge to the voice now, sharp as a blade.
Feeling as though he were being tested, Simon swallowed dryly and answered.
"Nephthys Archbold."
[Ahhh.]
Pier's mouth curved upward.
[Heh heh heh, so that's how it turned out! If it was that woman, well—she's perfectly capable of it! Good!]
FWOOOOOOOOOM!
A gale erupted through the chamber like a tempest. Light flooded the entire ruin, and the very air seemed to scream.
[Make the contract with me, Simon Polentia! And lead the 'Legion'!]
His father's undead spread both arms wide and roared.
[The Legion shall become your will and crush everything that stands in your path! All creation shall kneel and bow its head beneath your feet!]
The impassioned voice thrummed through the ruin.
[But know this—you shall inevitably walk a road soaked in blood! That, too, is destiny! Son of Richard—are you prepared to lead the Legion!]
Simon bit his lip, his face troubled. Pier circled around him, grinning slyly.
[Afraid, are you? Terrified? What are you weighing in that head of yours, standing before power itself? Boy!]
It was supposedly his father's power once, but to Simon it was an entirely unknown ability.
He didn't know what the Legion was, or what a blood-soaked road meant. He didn't know the terms of the contract, or what handicaps came with it.
And yet.
"I have a question first."
What came back was not an answer, but a question of his own. Pier's face twisted in displeasure.
[Speak.]
"I don't know what use you are. Is that Legion of yours actually strong?"
Thud.
Pier stopped in his tracks.
[Heh. Hehehehehehe! Puhu! Kheheh! KEHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!]
BOOM!
The air quaked, and dirt rained down from the ceiling.
Use, he says—USE!
This boy was not wandering about, shackled by doubt and fear. He had the audacity to 'evaluate' the Legion itself!
[Magnificent question, human! Strong, you ask? If it is your will, shall I bring this very Kizen crashing down?]
GOOOOOOOOOH!
From every direction rose the mournful wails of the dead. It was a horrifying spectacle, but Simon's expression didn't change by a hair.
[Very well! I shall answer your question!]
Pier drew his power back in and spoke.
[Your father already disbanded the Legion once! And I was sealed in this place! And when you woke me—the Legion's Manager—the Legion greeted its 'First Moment'.]
"First Moment."
[Indeed! But if the scattered forces of the Legion are gathered once more, and its former strength restored—]
The corners of Pier's mouth lifted.
[No one on this continent—no one—will be able to stop you.]
"Good."
Simon nodded.
"I'll make the contract."
[Kheheheheheh!]
Pier wrapped an arm around Simon's waist and leapt, landing atop the altar.
[Place your hand upon my 'Core'!]
Pier's ribs split open, and from within emerged a mass of Jet-Black power, pulsing like a beating heart.
Simon obediently raised his palm.
[When this contract is done, your life will be transformed root and branch! Does that not frighten you!]
"There's nothing to be afraid of."
Simon said flatly.
"If you really were my father's army, then taking you back is only natural."
[KEHAHAHAHAHAHA! Excellent! That is exactly the spirit!]
On the surface, a calm and modest, perfectly ordinary boy—yet here and there, the makings of a conqueror showed through.
You raised one hell of a son, Richard! This one is nothing like you!
His mastery of dark magic looked crude for now, but the potential was staggering. And unlike Richard, his sense of self and his emotions were properly grounded—a being complete in mind and spirit.
Pier was thoroughly pleased with this boy.
[The contract begins now! Do not die on me! Simon Polentia!]