Chapter 59
Chapter 59
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 59
Chapter Title: Rest (2)
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Corpseplay Delant.
How could I ever forget him? The black mage who served as one of Dorgo's legion commanders and contributed to the downfall of humanity.
Corpseplay's specialty was crafting Flesh Golems.
A Flesh Golem was an undead created by stitching together body parts from living creatures.
Corpseplay had the ability to identify creatures with superior physiques.
Thanks to that ability, the Flesh Golems he created boasted terrifying combat prowess.
In particular, the 'premium' ones he prided himself on could even rival high-class threats.
By the late stages of the war of annihilation that Dorgo unleashed, the number of Flesh Golems under Corpseplay's command exceeded tens of thousands.
The materials for Flesh Golems were living creatures.
Creating even one required dozens of different species.
That meant at least hundreds of thousands of creatures had lost their lives at Corpseplay's hands.
To thwart Dorgo's ambitions, Corpseplay was one of the individuals who absolutely had to be eliminated.
‘Come to think of it, in my previous life, Corpseplay's dungeon was discovered as well.’
It happened after Demian had been expelled from his family and was wandering as a beggar.
While begging on the streets, he had heard rumors that Corpseplay's dungeon had been found.
Just like now, the Church had assembled a subjugation force in his previous life as well.
‘The outcome... was the complete annihilation of the Church's force.’
Even with multiple mid-class members included, the entire subjugation force perished in the dungeon.
This incident led to Corpseplay being reclassified as an archmage-level black mage, with his threat level elevated.
‘It was never clearly revealed why the subjugation force was wiped out.’
However, it could be roughly inferred.
There was exactly one Holy Knight who survived the dungeon.
That Holy Knight uttered words about a traitor before drawing his last breath. His wounds were too severe to heal even with divine power.
‘Wait, isn't this happening a bit too early?’
As Demian sifted through his past memories, he noticed something odd.
The period when he lived as a beggar was etched vividly in his mind due to the hardship.
So he could say for certain. Corpseplay's dungeon was discovered much later than now.
‘Corpseplay was originally a black mage affiliated with Yulan. Did killing Yulan's leader affect this?’
It was while Demian was deep in thought.
“You seem reluctant. I understand. It's a black mage's dungeon, after all.”
Misinterpreting Demian's silence as refusal, Agnes spoke with a bitter expression.
“Mages consider themselves two or three ranks stronger within the dungeons they've constructed. A black mage's dungeon would be even more dangerous.”
Dungeons came in various forms.
A dungeon built by a mage was essentially a fortress.
Years of stored mana, pre-prepared high-level spells, meticulously crafted traps, and so on.
A mage within their own dungeon could be considered virtually invincible.
A black mage's dungeon was far more perilous.
The reason was simple: unlike regular mages, black mages had no lines they wouldn't cross.
Poisons, curses, monsters, and more.
Black mages employed every means at their disposal.
“Even if you refuse, I won't hold it against you.”
Unusually, the Church rarely forced cooperation from other nobles when forming subjugation forces.
It was partly due to scriptures emphasizing that good deeds must be done willingly, but also a pragmatic measure to manage noble discontent.
The Church meddled relentlessly in noble affairs if there was even a hint of black magic involvement.
If they then strong-armed nobles into such dangerous missions?
It could spark an explosion of resentment among the nobility.
Thus, the Church only sought cooperation, never demanded it. They didn't retaliate even against refusals.
“I've been too forward. Then...”
Agnes tried to pass by Demian.
Unthinkingly, Demian grabbed her wrist.
Her body froze the moment her wrist was seized.
“No, I was just pondering Corpseplay's intentions. I have no intention of refusing.”
Demian quickly clarified to dispel Agnes's misunderstanding.
“Far from reluctant, I'm grateful you suggested it.”
This was sincere.
Thanks to Agnes, Demian had gained a chance to personally sever one of Dorgo's limbs.
That wasn't all.
In his previous life, the Church suffered massive losses from the subjugation force's annihilation.
The fallout rippled all the way to the war against Dorgo.
From Demian's perspective, this was a two-birds-with-one-stone opportunity: thwart part of Dorgo's plans and bolster preparations for the war.
“I'll accept Lady Agnes's request...”
Suddenly, Demian realized something was off about Agnes's face.
It was flushed red, like a ripe apple.
“Lady Agnes?”
“I... um, your, your hand...”
Agnes fidgeted with the hand Demian was holding.
Demian released it, and Agnes hurriedly put some distance between them.
“Th-thank you for accepting my request.”
Agnes said, her face still red.
“We've prepared a carriage at the village outskirts. Pack your things and we'll escort you.”
With that, Agnes left the spot. She seemed strangely hurried.
Demian stared at her, utterly baffled.
“Young master... are you really planning to join the subjugation force?”
Victor, who had been watching the entire exchange, asked with a shocked expression.
“Yeah.”
“It's incredibly dangerous, isn't it? Corpseplay is the vicious black mage who turned an entire village into an undead den!”
Victor's face was filled with worry.
“I... I really wish you wouldn't go, young master...”
Demian let out a chuckle at Victor's words.
“Hey, do I look like the type who needs worrying over?”
“I know your skills well, young master. But it's a dungeon...”
Victor was merely a servant in a rural noble estate, but he knew full well how perilous dungeons were.
They were always named in reports of promising knights meeting their ends.
“Above all, the Viscount won't allow it.”
Demian paused at those words.
Some noble parents occasionally pushed their children into peril to chase glory.
But his father was never like that.
“Hmm...”
Demian racked his brain for a way to convince Viscount Haksen, but nothing came to mind.
“You're right, Victor. Father would never permit it.”
“Exactly. So you should give up and...”
“So we'll have to go secretly.”
“...Pardon?”
Victor gawked at Demian in disbelief.
Demian clenched his fist, looking genuinely regretful.
“I resolved not to be unfilial to Father... but no choice.”
“Um... young master, if you know it's unfilial, wouldn't it be better to just hold back?”
“Father will be furious for sure. You handle soothing him.”
“N-no way! You know how terrifying the Viscount gets when angry!”
“That's exactly why I'm asking you.”
Victor's emotions boiled over at Demian's words.
Never, in all his time with Demian, had he been this angry.
“And Victor, let me correct your big misunderstanding.”
“What nonsense are you about to spout now...”
“Corpseplay isn't even my match.”
Demian declared with utmost confidence.
Victor seemed to think Demian was walking into a death trap, but reality was different.
Demian could conquer the dungeon with pure swordsmanship alone.
And his arsenal didn't stop there.
High-level black magic spells were etched into his mind, and he possessed seven authorities.
Above all, during his Death Knight days, Demian had observed Corpseplay up close for a long time.
He knew every black magic Corpseplay used, the structure of his Flesh Golems—everything.
“So no need to worry... What’s with that face?”
Victor stared at Demian in utter exasperation.
“Young master, I'm genuinely worried here. Bragging like that even makes me mad.”
“Hey, it's not bragging.”
“Whatever. You're absolutely not going. I'll stop you...”
Demian slipped behind Victor and struck the nape of his neck with his hand blade.
Victor let out a short yelp and fainted.
“Plead my case to Father.”
Demian gently laid Victor on the ground.
Then he dashed toward where Agnes was.
* * *
“Lord Demian, over here!”
Upon arriving at the village outskirts, he spotted a carriage bearing the Church's emblem.
Agnes stood in front of it.
Demian approached Agnes but halted. It was because of the giant woman beside her.
Over two meters tall, broad shoulders, long and sturdy limbs, hands huge and thick like pot lids.
She embodied every ideal of a female warrior.
Her outward appearance wasn't the only impressive thing. The aura she exuded was formidable too.
At minimum, a mid-class powerhouse.
“Oh ho... So this is the Demian Haksen you've been so obsessed with.”
“...Please, senior sister, stop saying things that could be misunderstood. When did I ever...”
Agnes sighed.
“Hey now? When did I say anything misleading? I just stated facts. How you returned to headquarters and praised Demian Haksen to Master and your senior brothers as if he were amazing...”
Agnes stomped on the woman's instep.
Even as the ground shook from the force, the woman didn't flinch.
“Ow, looks like teasing you more will really tick you off. Fine, I'll be quiet.”
The woman approached Demian, extending a massive hand.
“Nice to meet you. I'm Margata, a Rank 2 Holy Knight.”
Rank 2 Holy Knight.
An rank equivalent to a mid-class Holy Knight.
Moreover, since Agnes called her 'senior sister,' she was likely a disciple of Cyan as well.
A disciple of one of the Church's Five Saints, Cyan, and a Rank 2 Holy Knight.
Just as Demian had anticipated, an extraordinary powerhouse.
“Nice to meet you, Lady Margata.”
Demian clasped her hand. It was callused all over.
“If it's not too rude, I thought you wouldn't come. It's a dungeon made by Corpseplay, after all.”
“With Lady Agnes's request, how could I refuse? Besides, black mages make my blood boil.”
Margata admired Demian's response.
“Agnes, I was worried you knew nothing about men, but you picked well.”
“...Senior sister.”
“Whoa, look at that glare. Scary stuff.”
“Enough chit-chat and give that to Lord Demian.”
“Tsk, such a shame... But a promise is a promise.”
Margata gestured, and a soldier approached carrying a long box.
“Agnes insisted hard to Master for this. She said if you joined the subjugation, you deserved equal compensation.”
Margata handed the box to Demian.
Demian accepted it with a puzzled look. It was surprisingly heavy.
“What is this?”
In response to Demian's question, Margata said with a face full of pride.
“The Holy Sword.”