Chapter 161
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 161
Chapter Title: Desi
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Desi
Desmond.
The archlich discovered in the basement of this ruin, a three-star Hero we had at least tried to capture alive. But because he killed Chris, everything went to hell, forcing even the Hero of Radiance to march here in person.
That being...
"Gah! Heh...! Heh...! W-What...! Who dares inflict this humiliation upon me...!"
Half his body charred pitch-black, he had barely managed to pat out the lingering flames clinging to him and was gasping for breath.
"You're awake."
"......! You!"
The moment Desmond woke, I urgently summoned Erzsebet and the other key staff. In that brief interval, as I approached him, Desmond's face twisted upon seeing mine.
"You... that mongrel who invaded my territory alongside that insolent Blood Demon? Grrgh...! What... what have you done to me!"
Desmond, sensing the faint remnants of death energy still in his body and the complete severance from his undead minions, went berserk before glaring at Eugene and snarling.
"Answer me at once, you wretched mongrel! Do you dare refuse to respond to my question!"
"...Consistent as ever."
"You scum!"
Did he not remember being subdued at the very last moment before losing consciousness? Or did he remember but was still spouting this nonsense?
I clicked my tongue at Desmond's ever-arrogant tone, and his eyes flashed as he gathered what little death energy remained to complete a curse.
"Insolent fool!"
Just like our first encounter, he hurled the curse straight at me without warning.
This guy?
'Well, from the start, he was the type to go straight for "then die."'
But I wasn't worried. I'd already confirmed it multiple times through Pandora, hadn't I? Curses against me...
-Fizzle...
See? It doesn't even... Huh?
'What? It didn't even touch [Janitor's Clothes], but it vanished on its own.'
"What is this...?"
I was slightly taken aback, and Desmond looked even more shocked, on the verge of fainting. Meanwhile, the called reinforcements—our ruin's main forces—rushed in. Erzsebet, appearing with Bathory equipped at her side, recognized Desmond, grasped the situation instantly, and sneered.
"Haha! Master, that half-corpse woke up? Judging by his face, he must've tried attacking you without thinking straight."
"Yeah. But..."
"It didn't land, right?"
...What? Is she a fortune-teller? She figured that out just from our expressions?
"Pfft... Of course. A mere slave could never harm the master."
"...Slave?"
"Graaah! You...! You...! What have you done to me! Why is there a contract bond with you...!"
.
.
.
.
.
The day we first met Desmond, after subduing him, Erzsebet had given me a brief rundown on undead ecology.
Undead are a race hypersensitive to "contracts" above all else. After all, sorcerers—necromancers—bind the flesh and souls of the already-dead to the earthly plane through contracts.
The moment a contract breaks, the undead reverts to a mere corpse. And if you can overwrite it with a superior contract, you can steal control of the undead.
In fact, when necromancers fight each other, battles often revolve around contesting dominance over undead, even snatching each other's minions. Ownership of undead is extremely sensitive.
So what about a half-corpse, half-still-living archlich?
"He's his own sorcerer and his own contracted undead."
Archlich. A transcendent being born when a mage who has stepped into the realm of great knowledge lichifies their own body. This grants them both the immortality of undead and the growth potential of the living.
As long as their "Life Vessel"—the container holding their life force—remains intact from the lichification, they are immortal. And as time passes, the still-living soul within grows ever stronger.
So...
"In any case, that soul was forcibly anchored by a contract... Overwrite it, and the soul becomes the master's."
"That's why he's acting like that?"
"Graaah! Die! I said die! How dare you...! How dare a mongrel like you claim my soul...!"
Desmond frantically gathered death energy, denying reality as he flung curses and a few spells wildly at me.
But every single one dissipated in midair before I even needed to react. No—more precisely, Desmond canceled them himself.
"Impossible! My perfectly linked sorcery, overwritten by a contract from the likes of you...!"
"Ah, shut up. Be quiet."
"....!!....!!!"
Irritated as Desmond kept raging and interrupting Erzsebet's explanation, I barked at him to shut up. His bloodshot eyes widened, mouth flapping silently.
"Oho... He obeys orders too?"
"Few beings are as loyal to their sorcerer's commands as undead. Even Master's kin aren't this obedient."
That's why Erzsebet wasn't worried when I said Desmond might wake up soon? I thought it was just because we could overpower him physically...
"Still, seeing him like this in person is utterly satisfying."
Erzsebet, wearing a genuinely delighted expression, prodded Desmond's head on the floor with her foot. He glared in humiliated fury, trying to attack, but I blocked his actions again.
"Desi. Behave yourself."
"....!..."
"Desi?"
"This one's name. Slave names like Desmond are too cool, aren't they?"
"...Pfft."
Whatever. Since he's registered as an [Employee], Desmond is my undead... er, slave, right?
Your name from now on is Desi.
.
.
.
.
.
.
"Desi."
"........."
"Hey now. Not answering?"
"My name is not some vulgar moniker—it's Desmond van Carnar..."
"Desi."
"........."
Desmond had become my slave. But that didn't mean I had perfect control over him.
"Not answering?"
"........."
I called him once more, but Desmond decided to clamp his mouth shut entirely, merely glaring and deliberately ignoring my summons.
'Not full mental domination, huh? I can make him shut up, but forcing him to speak doesn't work.'
An archlich is a being whose body is undead, but whose mind and soul remain those of the living. Thus, the contract overwriting via [Employee Registration] only bound his lichified body.
I could forcibly move his body or issue such commands, but not make him speak or manifest spells requiring mental sorcery formulation.
'Not dangerous, but... useless.'
The master-slave bond was solid enough that he couldn't harm me, but like this, he was utterly worthless. I'd fed him five Dungeon Cores, for crying out loud... This uncooperative attitude was a problem.
"Desi. Not answering? Want me to erase you for real?"
"Ha! Excellent. Go ahead and dissipate me. Better death than enduring this humiliation. No one can stand above me."
Back when we first met, I'd bluffed about collecting him like other undead to extract info, even if it wasn't possible. But that didn't work on the current Desmond.
How sky-high was his pride to embrace death just for refusing to answer obediently?
'Tch. I can at least force his body to move, so maybe make him do manual labor.'
I had questions to ask and a few experiments I wanted to try, but this uncooperativeness was an issue.
'For now, since I can control his body forcibly, manual labor it is. Wasteful for such high-grade manpower, but a guy who won't obey orders properly...'
In the end, after testing a few commands, seeing him refuse everything except forced physical movement, I gave up on questioning or other uses and pondered labor when something touched my hand.
-Tap. Tap.
"...Hm? Dry?"
It was Dry's wooden root. Wondering why he was calling me now, I noticed Desmond—who'd been glaring—flinch at the protruding root.
"......!"
'Hm?'
Then Desmond's body trembled faintly.
"...W-What is this feeling...!"
Desmond stared at Dry's root with extreme disgust, even more unsettled and fearful than when I'd briefly summoned Jeanne to threaten him earlier.
'Fear imprinted in his body?'
While unconscious and bound by Dry's roots, all his nutrients had been sucked dry... No memory, but his body instinctively feared it.
"Dry. What is it?"
"Daddy. That one. Give it to me."
I called Dry, who was watching Desmond, and his voice came through the root.
A skill Dry had recently developed. Though I wasn't an elf, Dry could convey his will through plants linked to me.
Had Dry recovered quite a bit? His form was still the same, though.
"You want it?"
"Yeah. Snack... slurp."
...Did I ruin the kid's tastes? How could he smack his lips at Desmond... No, wait, hadn't we already sucked him dry and discarded him?
"Again. Full of nutrients!"
"...Oh?"
From Dry's clumsy explanation, unlike when Desmond was unconscious, the now-awake Desmond was instinctively absorbing the lingering death energy in the ruin through his Life Vessel.
Dry had sucked it all up, but Desmond was an archlich. His vast capacity didn't vanish.
Naturally, his emptied vessel sought to refill, drawing in ambient death energy. Thus, Desmond was slowly but steadily regaining power.
In that case...
"He's got a bit of use now."
"...! W-Wait! You—hold on a..."
"Dry. Eat."
-Shriiiriiiik!!!
"Graaah! Begone, you damned weed root! Don't shove that lowly plant into my noble form...!"
-Smack! Smack!!
As Dry's root approached, panic and fear crept into Desmond's voice, hitherto filled only with hatred, rage, and arrogance.
He thrashed to escape Dry's grasp but, bound by my command, could neither flee nor fight—only bellow at Dry.
That outcry apparently angered Dry, who seized Desmond's entire body with roots and began slapping his cheeks relentlessly.
-Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack!
"Kgh! Grk! Gah! S-Stop! I am the great... Khurp!!"
'Hm...'
Should've done this from the start.
Yeah. Five-star employee or whatever—no point. Up until now, Desmond might as well not have existed. Just leave him be and carry on as usual. No issue.
"W-Wait! Negotiation... let's nego—Gyaak!!"
-Smack!!!
Desmond belatedly called to me, trying to say something... Eh, whatever. Can't hear you.
"Dry? Give him some proper discipline."
-Rustle~
I thanked the root clinging gratefully to my hand and left, turning my back on Desmond.
"Graaaah!!!"