Chapter 185
Chapter 185
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 185
Chapter Title: Get Out of Our Yard! #5
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Paranoya looked utterly terrified at the mention of drawing her own blood.
“…Farewell.”
It was obvious even under her tattered robe and mask—her body language screamed panic. In the end, all she could do was flail helplessly as Luna grabbed her by the side.
“Hee hee, you’re not going!”
Luna dragged the struggling Paranoya onto the ritual circle and drew an obsidian dagger from her waist.
Fuck, pulling out a knife all of a sudden. I tensed up, wondering if she was going to slit her throat and splatter her blood everywhere.
“I’m sorry…! Lady Luna, please spare me…! I don’t wanna die yet… not yet…!!”
Paranoya seemed just as scared. She looked convinced she was done for.
Luna ignored her completely, pressing the dagger against her body as she spoke.
“Hold still. I’m just gonna prick your fingertip. One drop of virgin nymph blood should be plenty.”
Oh, just the fingertip? I’d thought sacrifices meant drenching everything in blood.
“Eeeeek…. Hiii, the knife, the knife scares me….”
Even so, Paranoya was freaking out more than usual. But she was always such a nervous wreck that I’d gotten used to it by now.
Finally, Luna jabbed the tip of the obsidian dagger into her thumb. Bright red blood began dripping from the black, pointed blade.
At the sight, Paranoya went berserk, thrashing even harder against Luna’s waist.
“Eeeeek! I-I’m gonna die…! It’s gotta be some nasty curse going in through my finger, straight to my heart…!”
I had no idea what she meant by a nasty curse entering through her finger. But if it was something like tetanus or germs, it kinda made sense.
Even if Luna was meticulous with her tools, this world didn’t have disinfectants, so there were limits.
Or maybe it was just Paranoya rambling. She was getting on her nerves, apparently—the Ditch Water Nymph flailing at her waist—because she said quietly,
“Paranoya, behave, and you can sleep here tonight!”
“I’ll be quiet…! I promise…!”
At that, she stopped struggling like it was nothing. Luna really knew how to handle her.
Like a coachman gripping the reins. Or a beast tamer.
Slipping free from her arms, the now-docile Paranoya watched her work.
The blood dripped from the obsidian dagger onto the ritual circle with a plop, and the flower-petal-like wildflower pattern began to hum and glow with an eerie light.
“Now I see—it’s Chiron’s ritual circle… Ah, so these guests are wandering souls from the living world?”
Maybe it was her experience as a heretic, but Paranoya clocked what Luna was doing right away.
I asked,
“You know about voodoo too?”
“Actually, this magic circle is closer to necromancy than voodoo… Necromancy originally developed to guide lost souls. Priests of death handled leading them on…”
She turned her head, as if looking at the souls kneeling on the ground.
“As expected, the souls sense where one of their own is and follow that instinct here… So tonight, as it gets darker, even more will come…”
“No way, more than this?”
“The festival lasts till morning, so the deeper the night, the more souls will have scraped together coins. There’ll be more street musicians, storytellers, and performers tonight too—”
According to Paranoya, the street performances you see everywhere during festivals started as ways to get people to toss coins on the ground for souls to pick up.
That’s why folks throw coins freely, and no one bats an eye at those picking them up.
“With that, souls who’ve paid the ferryman cross the river… They’re poor souls who couldn’t even get a proper burial…”
“I see.”
“Priests of death used to handle sending them to rest properly. Now they have to do it in secret… How did Pluto’s followers fall this far…”
Paranoya shook her head in disbelief.
“Lord Pluto is one of the three major gods. Why are they so persecuted?”
Was she asking me? Right—she thought I was Pluto’s son or something.
Not that I knew the reason. I was just Hassan, an outsider stuck in this world out of nowhere.
But Paranoya had a point. Why had Pluto’s followers devolved into heretics?
From what I’d read in books, they used to be a legit religion here.
If necromancy really developed to help souls rest, was it even really dark magic?
I got a bit curious why necromancers and Pluto worshippers had to become heretics.
If I could figure that out and fix it, I could operate openly as the Iron Necromancer Hassan.
Honestly, wrangling minions as a necromancer sounded way better for adventuring than rolling in the dirt as a frontline fighter. I could tier up fast.
Fuck, such an awesome power, but using it gets you branded a heretic and hunted.
Who’d know the history of necromancers and Pluto followers?
The librarian Erimanthos?
Or old man Platan the scholar?
Whoever, I’d have to ask around later.
As I mulled that over, Luna—who’d been staring intently at the circle—beamed.
“Done! Circle’s complete! Now I can send ’em off proper! Hassan, put that big lug up here!”
She pointed at Cliff or whatever his name was, the thug ghost.
I hoisted his body onto the circle.
Luna then swung her club like a golf driver, smashing his skull clean off.
Thwack—!
It sounded gruesome.
It hurt just hearing it; my brow furrowed.
But then I gaped in disbelief.
Shhh, shhhrk—.
The bulk under Cliff’s robe vanished like it was never there.
His mask and robe slumped to the ground like fabric off a hanger.
The contents inside had clearly disappeared.
“Success!”
Luna raised her club triumphantly overhead.
“Who’s next to get their head bashed?!”
* * *
As Paranoya predicted, more and more uninvited guests flooded Luna’s yard as the night deepened. But we’d been warned, so neither of us freaked out.
Ghosts existing was still kinda wild, though.
Thinking of them like goblins, skeletons, or arakne monsters made it easier to swallow.
“Line up single file…!”
Paranoya organized the souls.
“Alright, two coppers each.”
I collected the coins while Luna sent them off. Working as a trio, we handled the influx pretty efficiently.
Fuck, there were so damn many. We’d already sent off dozens, maybe a hundred, and the line still stretched on endlessly.
This had to be the hottest spot in town, right?
“This year’s Na-ru-ter’s great at sending souls off.”
“At this rate, we’ll cross the river before dawn.”
“Call the others! Before the pursuers get us!”
Word must’ve spread—every soul in the city seemed to swarm here.
For a second, I got scared shitless.
I knew there were temple knights or whatever stationed somewhere in the city. If they saw this, we’d be toast—no excuses, straight-up heretic shit.
But the souls grabbing at our pant legs didn’t give a damn; they just kept coming.
Fucking ghosts.
It pissed me off now.
Only two coppers each? I could see two silvers or golds, but two coppers? Evil bastards trying to ruin lives for pocket change. Was there a way to send ’em all at once?
“Soul-soothing voodoo—! Hnngh, hnnngh—.”
Luna was slowing down, exhausted from swinging her club dozens, hundreds of times—her arms giving out.
She had less stamina than me. At this rate, she might collapse.
Was there a faster way?
As I racked my brain,
“Lord Hassan, at this rate, the line’ll never end… But you could wrap it up quick. Wanna try?”
Paranoya sidled up to me, whispering slyly while corralling the crowd.
“How?”
“There’s an advanced necromancy rite that opens the underworld gate… Why not try it? Draw a gate at the yard entrance, let ’em go through themselves…!”
Make ’em go through on their own?
It reminded me of highway tolls with electronic passes. Fuck, that would’ve been clutch ages ago.
“How do I do it?”
“I’ll draw the circle—just stand on it, Lord Hassan. Tonight’s energy is peak yin. And you’re a fortress of hell itself. Spread your legs over it, and that’ll do…!”
“Hnnngh, I can’t anymore…”
Right on cue, Luna flopped down, panting, arms spent.
Dozens, hundreds of souls trailed behind us, clamoring to be sent off.
Paranoya confidently scratched a design into the ground with her fingertip. What big thing was she up to?
Shhrrk, shhrrk.
It was just two simple door shapes—kinda like the character for “gate.”
“There, Lord Hassan—spread your legs over this gate…!”
“Like this?”
No downside to trying. I placed one foot on each “door,” striking a wide, majestic stance.
“Just stand here?”
“Other necromancers need rituals, but not you… Just stand. Like so—huff.”
Paranoya took a deep breath behind her mask.
Then she bellowed at the lined-up souls.
“Everyone, this person here is beyond words—utterly great…! Crawl under their legs, and you’ll reach the underworld…!”
“Hey, what the fuck? Crawl under my legs?”
I was shocked. Fuck, spread my legs? That’s what she meant? Never crossed my mind.
The souls seemed just as thrown.
“Crawl under legs?”
“Na-ru-ter’s methods are weird this year.”
“What do we do? Actually crawl?”
“I was a proud knight in life. Crawl under legs? No way.”
Not great reactions. I wouldn’t like it either.
But then Paranoya added softly,
“Crawling under their legs takes you to paradise—Elysium…!”
The mood shifted.
“Me first!”
“No, me!”
“Crunch, munch, crunch, munch—!”
Suddenly, they shoved and scrambled, crawling under my legs? All sorts of ghosts on all fours heading my way.
Fuck, it was horrifying—I wanted to scream.
“Fuck, this is terrifying!”
I did scream.
But not bolting and closing my legs? That took superhuman restraint. I felt pretty badass.
Fssshhh—.
Souls vanishing under my legs.
They buzzed in shock.
“It’s real! A real underworld gate!”
“Hurry! Damn, this year’s fast!”
Whoosh, shhhwhoosh—.
From one every ten seconds, now three or four per ten, queuing up and slipping between my legs.
This could handle the endless wave.
But the constant chill brushing my crotch made my head spin.
Fuck, what? Did an underworld gate really open between my legs?
Dazed like that,
“Aaagh!”
“Grah!”
Shrieks erupted from the line. Something was wrong—I could tell.
“P-Pursuers!”
“The pursuers are here again this year! Damn it, hurry! Cross the river!”
Pursuers?
The things the souls feared—they’d finally shown up? With this crowd, someone was bound to notice.
“Hurry! Or we’ll be obliterated!”
Amid the panicking souls.
“What’re you yapping about? Ugly undead scum. Thought you’d get away clumped together?”
Slash, slash—!
Blade slicing flesh and screams exploded from the back.
“P-Please, mercy.”
“Forgive…”
The souls trembled, heads bowed low, like waiting out a natural disaster.
“Yeah, groveling suits undead like you. Ugly freaks.”
Stepping over their backs came a woman in a lion-mane mask.
Her tattooed body gleamed under the moonlight—unforgettable.
“My instincts never fail. The least likely heretics pull the worst shit. No wonder these ugly souls headed the familiar path.”
Shing.
Antiope raised her short spear high.
“Hassan of Samaria and Luna Noxdoty—you two—”
She aimed it at me.
“By the all-seeing Jupiter, I judge you heretics on the spot—”
[Author's Note]
Hassan's tail was way too long...!