Chapter 216
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 216
Chapter Title: The Third Wanderer -2-
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Ghosts are sometimes said to be the souls left behind after a human dies.
Other times, they refer to something formed by the gathering of intangible 'souls.'
Or spirits that bring calamity or fortune upon people.
Even these diverse kinds of ghosts are hierarchically divided in human society, much like anything else.
Truly powerful ghosts can be seen by any human without special conditions.
But to see ghosts that are ambiguous in existence or feeble, certain conditions are required.
The most widely known condition among scholars is a newborn during the Chou hour on February 28th.
In other words, children born between 1 and 3 a.m.
Such children born into the world possess special eyes.
They can clearly see even the feeble ghosts that are hazy like mist.
The nation gathers some of these unfortunate, homeless children born at that hour.
And raises them as guards and protectors of shrines that seal mighty ghosts.
In a village whose only pride is sturdy walls built from narrow alleys and jagged stones, there stands one such place.
Among hundreds of shrines there, one in particular.
Looking around, mountains fill the view, and among them looms a peak that rises bizarrely tall.
Atop that sheer, rugged peak lies an open clearing and a shrine.
From afar, it looks like no one would be there, but guardians always station themselves to protect the shrine.
"Time for the shift change."
Though they've done their utmost to seal them, they couldn't prevent faint ghostly energy from leaking from the shrine.
Drawn by the aura of the ghost sealed within, ghosts of all sizes flock in, regardless of their will.
Even feeble ghosts can become conduits or be influenced by the inner ghost, potentially causing catastrophe, so 24-hour surveillance by skilled guardians is essential.
"Good work."
"Thank you for your service!"
Even on this routine day of repetition, the shift change guardians' faces weren't bad.
Among the shrine guardians, the most popular shift was this dangerous midnight hour.
With beautiful stars filling the sky and the Milky Way stretching across, just gazing at it made the cool breeze carry time away like an arrow.
As they stared blankly at the night sky, a bizarre noise echoed from inside the shrine.
Creeeak-! Tzzzt!
"W-What was that sound?!"
It was a first even for guardians who'd stood watch for over a decade.
Rumble-!
When the guardians gathered in emergency and opened the shrine doors.
Only the talismans for sealing lay scattered on the floor.
"Gh-Ghooooost!!!"
The flesh of a notoriously infamous oni—one said to fill its belly with human blood and hone its swordsmanship by slicing bones and flesh—had vanished.
The day he crippled Count Maloy.
He'd swept up all visible research materials and grabbed the spare scrolls Isaac had prepared and stacked.
Mages' research materials were extremely limited in what he could comprehend with his own mind, even after careful reading.
But it allowed him to understand parts that the game had glossed over vaguely.
- When opening dimensions where timeline synchronization is unconfirmed, even if one becomes a gateway like the Gate's design... simultaneous openings could cause temporal chaos affecting the current dimension.
- Even if dimensional rifts close, unlike what human eyes observe, they may still impact the current dimension.
For experts of the Empire's caliber, it was all mere speculation without certainty.
But considering Count Maloy's field of expertise, it seemed plausible.
He already knew simply what was happening on the other side of the dimension.
It was surprising that what the game dismissed as impossible without explanation might actually have rough settings to prevent exploits.
Now was the perfect time: having arrived, open the dimension, wait out the cooldown, and wander the outside.
He kicked the staggering, unconscious Robert aside with his foot.
In this brief moment waiting for the wanderer from the dimension, he heightened his tension and held his breath.
Some completely unknown entity might emerge.
'It's coming.'
Sabak. Sabak.
A confident footstep emerging from the rift.
Utter detachment, showing no emotional change upon arriving in another dimension.
The third wanderer had a unique appearance unlike any two on this continent.
'Phew...'
That appearance was one he'd seen to boredom in the game, so he relaxed.
A muscular man with shaggy white hair down to his waist, carrying a sword reminiscent of his past life's island nation, wearing tattered training robes.
His skin was black as charcoal, and where eyeballs should be was pure white emptiness.
Two sharp horns protruded from his forehead, their tips red—definitely not human.
Nor a dragonkin, given the malformed horns and the ominous ghostly aura bringing misfortune.
This creature, nonexistent on the continent.
Resembled what other worlds commonly called an 'oni.'
Rather than wondering where he was, he turned his neck this way and that, adapting his body freed from long sealing.
'As long as I don't get careless, no tough opponents until the late game.'
He decided to hold off using Gleipnir until repairs were done.
As he stored the dagger in his hand into his inventory, the opponent's mouth opened.
Swift as the wind...
Silent as the forest...
Fierce as wildfire...
Heavy as the mountain—
Unlike the second wanderer, Deganel.
He had no intention of savoring and waiting through the entrance line compared to the game.
First Form - Raksha
As he flipped back the robe on his head, a mask draped over his face.
Naturally gripping the weapon in hand, he kicked off the ground, closing the distance.
With the Raksha blade wrapped in white flame, he slashed diagonally, severing the thick neck.
Ping!
A speed the third wanderer's level couldn't even react to.
White hair chopped in chunks, the headless neck spun wildly into the air.
"You have to finish your lines, right?"
The wanderer's bulky body staggered forward.
Even demons and undead screamed under white flame—let alone a mere goblin.
'Not dead yet.'
Despite decapitation, no wanderer-specific signal appeared, and the headless body twitched.
Whoosh-!
Moving massive mana, white flames exploded from the Raksha blade, fierce enough to burn the entire forest.
Stabbing the spinning head in midair pierced it.
The flames turned the head to ash scattering away, and finally the ghost's body began to crumble.
Waiting for the crumbling sound to end, a single book clattered to the floor.
Wind, Forest, Fire, Mountain
He carefully stored the book left by the third wanderer in his inventory.
"...Haa."
Grabbing the collar of Robert rolling on the ground.
'I want to just leave him, but...'
To obtain the wanderer's item, he did need this guy, in truth.
This so-called complex forest was right next to the capital anyway.
Dragging the limp Robert out of the forest and into the capital was instantaneous.
"Ugh."
He tossed the half-conscious guy onto the bustling capital street and turned away.
Robert's current state was still hard to get used to; it felt surreal.
From neglect and constant drinking, even his good looks had faded into obscurity.
'How can a person ruin himself that much in such a short time?'
When he got intel, entered the lodging, and saw the guy passed out clutching a liquor bottle.
He was so shocked he wondered who it was.
He even double-checked if he'd entered the wrong room.
"...Tch."
At first, he considered severing tendons in his limbs, gouging his eyes, and locking him in a basement.
Considering his past and present life's values and era, if he just wanted gains, that was the best way.
But he scrapped it the moment he entered the room.
Not out of pity for Robert or because he was a good person.
The biggest issue was simply how pathetically weak this guy's mental fortitude was.
To use mana properly, a broken mind or suicide would be problematic.
Leaving him free could let him seek other mages for help or open dimensions while away.
'Makes me carry all the expectations...'
What would make him struggle most was probably a faint hope of 'what if.'
......
......
Shwaaa-
Returning to the mansion, he doused his complicated head with cold water that snapped him awake.
Before the sun even set, he'd done so much.
Among today's events, the dirty feeling washing away with the water felt good.
After showering, he shuffled to the living room.
"Ahhh~"
Flopping onto the sofa released the pent-up daze inside.
Waiting for his women to return, he sank into thought.
'Wherever I go, I should at least tell them.'
Even for a few days, heading to a dungeon outside the capital on a whim wasn't right when he had people waiting.
Disappearing without a word wasn't proper.
'I know that mentally.'
But his body was feverish; staying put was hard even now.
Duke Alramas's fresh shock had heated him up, leaving him sticky and unrested.
'What kind of fight is this, like a damn dog in heat...'
With women to take responsibility for, he thought he should fix this temperament.
But surviving in this world required it too.
"Hngh..."
Swish-
Burying himself in the sofa, he pulled out Gleipnir; the damage from then remained as is.
Patting it might make it feel better, but suddenly a change occurred in an unexpected place.
A change occurs in the previously restricted second form.
You acquire a derivative skill.
'????'
White Flame was a derivative skill born from completing the first form, Raksha.
The second form was currently locked too.
He hadn't seen or touched other forms, so it was baffling how a derivative skill could emerge.
Mental Image Entry - ■
▷Requests permission to enter another's mental image.
▷Real time does not flow while in the mental image.
A skill he'd never seen or heard of in the game.
Staring blankly at this brand-new skill, a woman's voice he'd heard exactly once rang out.
- Ahmaya.
"..."