Chapter 41
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 41
Chapter Title: No Free Lunch
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The plains where the Harun Empire and Volasen Federation waged war after war, great and small.
In a place where countless corpses lay unrecovered and rotted away, the birth of undead was inevitable.
In the past, I'd searched diligently just in case.
Amidst this horde of skeletons, what were the odds of finding a Death Knight oozing heavy charisma?
The despair when all that greeted my hard efforts were just sword-wielding skeletons...
It was awful.
Shaking off that pathetic past, a Death Knight emerged from the scattered, worthless bones—clad in black armor, its red eyes glowing fiercely.
"So the owner of that armor was someone else after all."
From the circumstances, it seemed a regular skeleton had somehow equipped a hidden piece that spawned before the entrance ceremony.
If so, this was new information unknown from the game.
Clack. Clack. Clack.
"Get out of my way, you punks."
Crush! Crack!
With every swing of my hand, skeletons collapsed in heaps, their jaws rattling noisily.
I smashed the obstructive bones with my fists and closed in. The Death Knight let out a guttural roar and drew its sword.
-Kaaaaak!!!
"A Death Knight that can't even use aura... Rest in peace."
This was the bottom of the barrel among the bottom-feeders.
[First Form - Raksha]
I swung the sword in my grasp before the mask could even fully form.
Slaaash-!
Raksha's blade tore through the Death Knight's armor like paper and ignited white flames.
-Gr... aaa!! Aaaah-!!
The undead, which surely felt no pain, clutched its skull and wailed as if in agony.
The Death Knight thrashed about, trying to extinguish the spreading white flames, before collapsing moments later like a marionette with cut strings.
"Good. Much easier for sure."
Shaaa-
The Death Knight's malevolent energy was sucked into Raksha's blade, half-filling one of the bright yellow talismans on the hilt with red script before stopping.
The unlock condition for the second form was to purify or redeem an impure being.
Regular undead didn't count; only named ones or above tallied toward it.
'Maybe... that won't work?'
A method utterly impossible in the game flashed through my mind.
I picked up the black brooch the Death Knight had left behind.
The brooch, smaller than my palm, bore an embossed rose.
[Hagen's Armor Collection No.03]
▷Equips the embedded armor.
▷Can be repaired using mana.
-Oh, my aching finger...! It's a piece that tugs at my heart because the finish feels incomplete.
Kiiing-
As I channeled mana, the brooch reacted.
Clank-! Clank!
In an instant, black armor enveloped my body.
It looked cool, sure, but for someone like me who'd never worn full plate, it felt suffocating.
My mana-reinforced body was far tougher anyway, so there was no point in wearing it.
"Uncomfortable... How do knights even move in this?"
I immediately unequipped the armor.
Just sturdy plating that repaired itself with mana—nothing special otherwise.
In the game, it was little more than a costume for aesthetic builds.
"Hm..."
Chloe's skill crossed my mind for a moment, but I pushed the thought aside.
'...Not my concern.'
She'd probably use it for fun if I gave it to Rike.
I pocketed the brooch and began hunting down the remaining skeletons.
...
...
Clack. Clack. Clack.
"Hey! Stop that and try wearing it."
I dodged the skeletons' swords while trying to affix the brooch to them or balance it on their heads.
Many attempts, but none turned into a Death Knight like before.
'No freebies here...'
Looked like the second form would require some real effort.
-
By the time I returned to Dovart from the plains, dawn had passed and morning had arrived.
Not travelers, but shop owners and staff rushing to greet them were filling Dovart with vitality.
Using the money Eclair provided, I booked a room, had a light breakfast, and caught two hours of sleep.
This extravagance of booking a stay just to nap for two hours.
"Yawwwn-"
I yawned contagiously down the street as I headed to the Adventurer's Guild in Dovart.
'Wrap this up quick and head back...'
Handling it before crossing into the Federation was my role.
No reason to wait for the swamp whale to come all the way to Dovart's doorstep.
The request hadn't specified that anyway, so they wouldn't complain now.
"Over here!"
As I neared the Adventurer's Guild, a familiar face grabbed me—a man.
"Good to see you."
"Hahaha! I'm Grover. Let's move to a seat first."
Grover was the name this time.
This energetic middle-aged man always showed up for imperial requests to provide extra details or handle odd jobs.
If he dealt directly with the palace, he'd be elite, but he always handled outdoor work.
He led the way not to the guild, but to an inn overlooking it.
Whether he'd reserved the room in advance or it was imperial property, I just followed.
Creeak-
Opening the door, the inn room felt less like lodging and more like an office.
No bed; desk piled with papers and inkwells, discarded glasses and half-eaten bread giving off a lived-in vibe.
"Black tea alright?"
"Of course."
Despite his shabby clothes, his elegant pour of tea betrayed undeniable refinement.
I didn't know his real name, but circumstances must explain his unkempt appearance.
"Thank you."
Grover set tea before me and slid over a small box.
"Once the swamp whale is dealt with, use the signaling artifact inside."
"Got it."
"And... seems some flies are buzzing around."
Was a swamp whale—spirit beast or not, just a giant monster—really that valuable?
What did they even plan to do with it?
No need to ask or even wonder when dealing with high status.
Just do the job.
Whether the heart became the old emperor's aphrodisiac or a rejuvenation tonic, ignorance was bliss.
"The swamp whale's unique trail made followers predictable... I'd prefer handling this quietly. No witnesses ideal."
"The flies are mercenaries, right?"
"Yes. Investigation shows they're not Federation agents. But they were caught trafficking imperial peasants to the Federation."
The empire had already vetted them, greenlighting a clean sweep.
"I was told to just handle the swamp whale..."
He laughed heartily at my words.
"Hahaha! Indeed. Best to settle accounts thoroughly for a clean finish. Anything you desire, adventurer?"
"Hm... Let me think."
Now that he offered freely, I hesitated.
Should've prepared something in advance.
"The palace avoids guild meddling usually, but if you wish, we could pressure the bard's guild that's been slandering you. Unlock praise for your feats, and you'd shine like Urus's party—adored by the masses."
The empire stepping in to crush petty bards and elevate me to platinum-star status. But I preferred my current low profile.
Smashing the bard's guild once was the right call; I'd do it again even if reborn.
"No, that's fine. What I want is..."
"Speak freely."
As I pondered, my fingers drifted to my chin.
Money? Sure, more the better, but this was a special chance.
'Artifact... Elixir... Imperial sourcing means top quality.'
I ended my deliberation and lowered my gaze from the ceiling.
"Decided?"
"...Not material rewards. Just imperial favor."
Ultimately, my thoughts turned to Rike, tangled in complications.
"Heh heh heh... Excellent choice. I'll relay it personally."
Grover chuckled heartily, picked up his quill, and began writing.
Gazing at me instead of the paper, he filled the page with flawless script, like a magic tool's output.
"You're busy, so straight to business."
"...Details on the mercenaries' size and traits would ensure thorough handling."
He sifted through paper stacks and began reading key intel.
"Hmm- The mercenary band tailing the swamp whale numbers 17, led by Riljo. Missing left ear, replaced with gold-plated steel via surgery."
Next page.
"Once a Dovart adventurer up to gold rank. Band has at least three mages. Not platinum caliber, but adept at traps and ambushes—stay cautious."
"Riljo... Riljo... Got it."
Gold teeth on healthy ones? Eccentric taste.
Distinct look, easy to spot on sight.
"Their aim: scavenge scraps post-kill or hijack if priced right. Unaware of imperial backing... Swamp whale meat alone fetches high black-market prices, so understandable."
"...Is it tasty?"
I couldn't fathom it; whale wasn't my thing.
Living in a dank swamp—not off-putting?
"As a spirit beast, eating its flesh promises boons. Superstition holds it cures incurables."
"...Desperate folks would cling to that."
Those facing death or ruin would want to believe, even if denying it.
Definitely profitable rumor.
"Swamp whale anatomy diagram and current path log. Mercenary intel too... Apologies for repeating, but preserve the heart."
"I'll review the diagram and note it."
"This stays confidential like last time. Clean up the mercs, and we'll handle the aftermath."
"Understood."
He leaned back, signaling end of talk, chair creaking.
Energetic outside, but fatigue showed now.
"Whew- Anything else needed or questions?"
I stood, gathering the intel papers.
"This suffices. Heading out now."