Chapter 167
Chapter 167
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 167
Chapter Title: Clumsy Cultist
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The bone goblins I created crushed the living goblins.
Kee-sak! Kee-sishit!
Kieeeek!
The clubs and crude stone hammers swung by the goblins were utterly useless against the sturdy skeletal monsters.
Clatter-.
Even when damaged, they quickly reconnected their broken bones and regenerated.
That was the danger of undead monsters—they were already dead once, so they didn't vanish easily.
Even accounting for that, though, they felt a bit too powerful.
The battle ended so anticlimactically easy.
As I panicked at their overwhelming power—far beyond my imagination—and tried to dispel the Necromancy,
Ding-.
An artificial sound effect rang in my ears, mismatched for the moment but now somewhat familiar.
『Settling minion combat.』
『Karma Value + 3』
『Current Karma Value +65』
I'd thought I understood most of these messages by now, but this was a first for me.
Minions' combat?
My mind immediately went to the ones waddling around in front of the tower.
What did minion mean again? Lackeys, underlings, something like that.
As someone who'd gone to college, I was smart enough to quickly grasp the situation.
That word "minions" must refer to my bone goblin lackeys.
Since they killed three goblins, that's why I got +3 Karma Value?
My hypothesis fit perfectly, like the set answer.
See? I'm a genius.
More than that, skeletons killing lives to rack up Karma Value?
It was just like playing a necromancer in a game with summons.
Fuck, I had this kind of talent?
I was hugely flustered, but on the other hand, my heart pounded like a kid getting an expensive gaming console for Christmas.
"Rise."
Riding the momentum, I raised even the goblins fallen on the ground.
Now my minions totaled nine: the original three plus the six I'd just killed.
The backlash left me a bit short of breath, but not unbearably so.
"Fuck, this is insane."
What the hell was going on?
I couldn't stop my lips from curling under the mask.
It felt like I was a real necromancer.
Maybe I actually had talent as one?
Fuck, am I a genius?
I'd always thought I was a bit extraordinary, but witnessing this made even I feel scared of myself.
Hassan, warrior of steel.
No, Hassan, necromancer of steel.
I pictured myself reviving skeletons to slaughter monsters.
But soon, chills crept up my neck, snapping me out of it.
Rustle, rustle-.
Multiple presences: footsteps crushing branches, parting bushes.
More goblins?
No, this felt different.
The steps were heavy. Wide strides. And each movement came with the clank of metal on metal.
Humans, probably.
That realization terrified me.
Fuck, if they saw this scene, I'd be branded a cultist and hunted down, no question.
"Disperse! Disperse!"
I hurriedly dismissed all nine bone goblins.
"I swear someone screamed here."
"Who screams in an empty spot like this?"
"Maybe a deer? Their cries sound kinda human."
"Deer tastes good."
They were close enough that I could hear their conversation clearly.
Like a crook about to get caught, I ducked behind a crumbling pillar at the ruined temple site.
My big frame might not fully hide, but better than standing out in the open.
As I hastily concealed myself, the group emerged: two young men and two women, a four-person party.
Jangle.
The pendants around their necks were iron-gray.
Iron Tier adventurers from some guild.
Their gear—thin leather armor, clubs, short swords, daggers—looked crude, nothing impressive.
It reminded me of me, Luna, and old man Malco when we first cleaned this temple.
Newbies, huh.
Spotting the bone piles and goblin corpses on the ground, the newbies screamed.
"Fuck, look at all this blood!"
"Why are they all dead? What the hell happened?"
The men freaked out, but the women armed with daggers and swords stayed calmer.
"Don't make a fuss over a little blood."
"Yeah, it's goblins anyway. Goblin corpses. Maybe that scream was them?"
The brown ponytail in leather armor knelt down.
She examined a corpse with her hands and muttered.
"Not long dead. Any monsters or beasts in this forest that could kill goblins…?"
"Kinda creepy. Scandi, let's head back. We got the herbs; I wanna wash up quick!"
And so the Iron Tier newbie party even extracted the dead goblins' fangs with care.
Fuck, are they gone?
Only after they all left could I finally step out from behind the pillar.
If I hadn't hidden, if they'd spotted me—what then?
I'd been thrilled about my Necromancy talent moments ago, but now worry crept in.
Talent for crime and depravity.
A genius villain.
Was I supposed to be happy about this?
At this rate, I'd fit better as a prison city thug than the golden-necklace hero I aimed for.
* * *
Back at Sodomora's west gate, I changed in a dark alley where no one could see.
Should I toss the work clothes and mask in the trash?
Nah, they cost a whole silver, so I stuffed them in my bag.
Might need them again someday.
Anyway, I'd spent a productive morning experimenting with my new power.
I also realized it was too dangerous for me to handle yet.
Gotta be careful not to let anyone find out.
That thought made me paranoid about yesterday's weird excuse to Paranoya.
Next time I see her, I need to drill in keeping my secret.
Make her swear on the Styx too.
A Styx oath was the ultimate vow in this world.
Even a backstabber like Paranoya couldn't break it.
I'd sweated bullets from its power myself.
Remembering that sharp lower belly pain made cold sweat bead up.
Like rain pouring from my whole body.
Wandering the forest in this robe and mask under blazing sun must've overheated me.
Hot as fuck.
I wiped the stinging sweat from my eyes and dug out a handkerchief-like cloth from my pocket.
Wipe, wipe.
As I rubbed my face, a faint floral scent wafted up.
Nice smell, whatever flower it was.
Why did my handkerchief smell so fresh?
Curious, I looked: white silk embroidered with red petals.
Red tulips.
The symbol of Baron Fleur's house, right?
Come to think of it, I had business with that baron.
He was looking for a healer to cure his daughter's illness.
What to do.
Glancing up, the sun was high near noon, illuminating the world.
Still time before Luna finished her errands.
I figured I'd kill time till evening, maybe snag some gold.
"Fuck, can't walk in this heat."
The sun beat down mercilessly, so I hailed a nearby carriage.
"Where to, sir?"
"Uh, Baron Fleur? Take me to his mansion."
"The villa by the south gate or the main house by the east gate?"
Duh?
I hadn't even considered that.
Did Baron Fleur own two houses in this pricey city?
Luna and I slaved to add a second floor to our tiny shack.
Nobles live different lives.
"Where can I find the baron?"
"He usually stays at the south villa in summer, so south gate district should do. That work?"
"Yeah, sure."
"Off we go then. Puhihihiiing."
Crack.
With a light whip crack, the sturdy black horse clopped forward.
The scenery outside shifted.
Did the coachman just neigh like a horse?
Nah, must've misheard.
"Hoo-."
In the carriage shade, escaping the heat, I sighed.
Way better than walking. Not super cool, but beats direct sunlight.
Money's the best.
Lost in that obvious thought,
"You seem like an outlander, sir. What business at the baron's? You didn't know the address, so probably not an acquaintance."
The coachman up front chatted me up.
Coachmen here were talkative, often striking up convos with passengers.
Back on Earth, taxi drivers did the same to me.
Do I have a face that screams "talk to me"?
Heat-exhausted, I wasn't in the mood.
"Just some business."
"Might be nosy, but watch yourself. Baron Fleur hates Samaritans."
"Really?"
"When he was young, his wife got kidnapped by them."
"…I see. Is that reliable?"
"Folks hush it up, but it's common gossip among coachmen. And our rumors usually check out."
The baron disliked immigrants, huh.
I could kinda see why.
Should I turn back now?
Too late—the massive mansion loomed ahead.
Its vast plot was walled with tall iron bars, wrapped in thorny vines like red roses.
Fucking huge.
Second time entering a noble's home.
First was the golden-bearded dwarf count's garden, for war merits—at night, so I didn't grasp its scale.
But this daytime view of Fleur's villa garden was enormous.
Real estate this pricey, and it's smack in the city center?
Richer than I imagined.
Like a chaebol head?
If I cured his daughter, maybe I'd score a pouch of gold.
Of course, no guarantee I could heal her.
If it works, great; if not, oh well.
Even if I failed, this noble could fend off that innkeeper harassing me and Luna.
Win-win.
So at the villa entrance alley, I donned the dark red robe and mask again.
He hates Samaritans, so better hide my identity.
Good thing I kept them.
But would they let in someone this suspicious-looking?
Doubting that, I approached the iron-armored guards at the garden gate.
Clank-.
They crossed long halberds in an X, blocking the entrance.
"What do you want?"
"State your identity. Private property—no entry for randos."
Exactly as I'd imagined.
Not overkill, not lax—professional.
Noble retainers, alright.
Ahem, ahem.
I cleared my throat, pitching my voice deep.
"Here on business. Look at this…"
I pulled out the tulip-embroidered handkerchief for the wary guards.
"That's—"
One took it.
Now what?
Eyes tense behind the mask.
They whispered among themselves, then uncrossed the halberds and opened the gate.
"Enter."
"The baron has awaited you long."
Oh, suddenly polite.
Nice.
What happens now?
Heart pounding with tension, I slowly stepped into the garden.
The mansion's thick shadow fell over me.
At that instant, countless crows burst from the roof in a flurry.
Caw, caw, caw-.
Birds suddenly flying up.
Felt ominous as hell.
But my feet moved steadily inward, slow and sure.
Fucking crows sound annoying.