Chapter 104
Translator: Wjin
Chapter: 104
Chapter Title: The Genius and the Vampire (1)
A week had passed since I read the Tall Mountain Grimoire.
During that time, my thoughts on the Giant after seeing it were as follows.
For one, the thing was incredibly sturdy.
It had managed to hold out against the bulky trio all on its own for quite a while.
On top of that, its strength was impressive.
But that was where the advantages ended.
Its movements were too sluggish to take on a knight.
'Maybe I should use it as a moving wall?'
Not for offense, but defense.
No matter how I thought about it, that seemed like the best approach.
In simple terms, I'd gained a big, tough shield I could move at will.
Not bad at all.
"We'll arrive at our destination soon."
I was mulling over the Giant's potential uses when Cedric spoke up, looking my way.
Our next stop, Densfog.
He was letting me know it was just ahead.
'Finally here.'
Truth be told, even if Densfog hadn't been an option, there were plenty of other villages we could have stopped at along the way.
But we chose it specifically because of Baron Patrick.
Densfog was his territory.
Baron Patrick.
He had been the liege of Timothy, the former lord of Stott.
'That's why I got the letter of introduction.'
Timothy had written it for me himself and insisted I stop by Densfog no matter what.
He'd even added that showing it to Baron Patrick would ensure I was treated with the utmost hospitality.
So even without having seen the baron's face properly, I already felt a bit fond of him.
He was Timothy's lord, after all.
The odds were high he was a good man.
"That's Densfog right there."
A little later, Cedric pointed ahead and said.
A wooden palisade came into view.
Unlike Stott, there were no signs of damage.
It was even closer to barbarian lands than Stott, yet it looked pristine?
That alone told me plenty about Patrick's capabilities.
Proof he managed his territory well.
'Looks clean up close too.'
The palisade was impeccably maintained even from nearby.
Of course, it wasn't flawless.
Sword slashes, axe marks, spots that looked like arrowheads had been lodged in it—various scars dotted the surface.
But aside from those faint traces, the palisade was in perfect shape.
It could more than fulfill its role.
"Who goes there?"
Was it our group's size, or the Giant striding boldly along?
As we approached Densfog, a guard at the palisade gate called out urgently.
"John, leader of the Oak Mercenary Corps."
I gave a false name again.
Timothy had written "John," not "Heros," in the letter, so I had no choice.
"What brings you to Densfog?"
"Nothing specific. We're just wandering the North looking for work."
"Are you perhaps a mage?"
The guard glanced at the Giant and asked.
I nodded, confirming it.
"As you can see."
Once I revealed I was a mage, the guard's attitude grew a touch more deferential.
"May I inform the castle of Lord John's visit?"
"Do as you like."
"Please wait a moment."
Did he think treating a mage lightly would be unwise?
The guard said something to his fellow on duty, and the man hurried off.
Probably to report to Baron Patrick.
It would take a little time for him to return.
So I waited leisurely.
And when he did come back, I heard good news.
"Baron Patrick invites the Oak Mercenary Corps to the castle."
'Much smaller than Chester Castle.'
That was my impression after seeing Patrick Castle.
It was called a castle, but it was more like a tower.
The palisade served as the wall, with a rectangular stone keep piled up in the center.
Still, it wasn't something to scoff at.
This setup put it ahead of most barons.
Plenty of them didn't even have a castle.
"I'll guide you from here."
We arrived at the castle under the guard's lead, and a young man waiting there spoke up.
He seemed to be a servant of Patrick Castle.
But... something felt off.
Was it because his face was so expressionless?
As I pondered that,
screeech.
The doors swung open, revealing the castle corridor.
It was pitch black inside.
Like an entrance to the underworld.
Castles were often dim, but this was unnaturally dark—hard to see ahead.
Usually, they'd have torches lit.
"It's awfully dark in there."
I muttered, and the young man replied flatly.
"The baron prefers the dark, so we don't light torches. I hope you'll bear with the inconvenience."
With that, he continued leading the way.
Thud. Thud.
Our footsteps echoed lonely through the silent, pitch-black hall.
How long had we walked?
The young man stopped before a door at the corridor's end.
"Is Baron Patrick in there?"
"Yes."
He answered my question calmly.
I straightened my clothes.
Watching me, he called inside.
"Lord John and the Oak Mercenary Corps have arrived."
"Let them in."
Someone replied.
A youthful voice, around my age.
From the context, it had to be Baron Patrick.
Which puzzled me.
'Is that really Baron Patrick?'
Timothy had described him as around the same age—middle-aged.
But that voice didn't match.
It sounded too young, almost childish.
Creak.
As I grappled with the confusion, the young man flung open the double doors.
Thankfully, the interior was brighter than the hall.
Candles burned at both ends of a long desk.
'An audience chamber or banquet hall?'
The room was spacious.
A desk sat in the center.
A boy perched behind it.
Brown hair, red eyes.
Mana emanated from him—a mage.
And there was another mage too.
'A necromancer.'
A scrawny man stood beside the boy.
He was the necromancer.
So what about the boy?
Hard to pin down.
He'd dabbled in all sorts.
'Earth magic, wind magic, water magic... even transformation magic? Wow, he's learned a bit of everything.'
The boy had real magical talent.
Which only deepened my questions.
I'd never heard of a mage like this in Patrick Castle.
And what was this necromancer doing as his apparent lackey?
So many curiosities.
"Nice to meet you, mage! I'm a mage too."
That's when the boy looked at me and spoke.
But I still didn't know how to handle him.
I didn't know what he was.
So I asked that first.
"Are you Baron Patrick?"
"Yeah, that's me."
"You're much younger than I was told."
"Oh, I've only been baron for a short while. About a month? Before that, my father was Baron Patrick."
The boy before me was the son of Baron Patrick—the man who had been Sir Timothy's lord.
Realizing that,
I decided not to pull out Timothy's letter.
Something felt wrong about how this was unfolding.
Where was the real baron, and why was some kid playing at being one?
"Wondering where my father is?"
As I sorted my thoughts, Patrick suddenly asked.
I admitted it plainly.
"Yes, I am."
That should prompt an explanation, I figured.
And sure enough, Patrick answered right away.
"I killed him."
The moment the words left his mouth,
the audience chamber's air grew heavy.
What had I just heard?
I glanced at my companions, questioning.
Bear, Conal, Cedric, and the rest.
Everyone except Gilbert and the undead knights had frozen faces.
So I hadn't misheard.
"You killed the previous baron? Is that what I'm understanding?"
"Yep, spot on."
Patrick replied with a serene expression.
The sight struck me as utterly grotesque.
How could anyone speak so casually of killing their own father?
It defied my sense of normalcy.
"Why did you do it?"
"He was getting in the way of my magic studies."
"You killed your family for something like that?"
"Something like that? It's not trivial. It was a huge deal for me."
Patrick raised his voice, sounding aggrieved.
Seeing that only intensified my disgust.
This kid was a monster in human skin.
Suddenly, the castle's silence made sense too.
No servants in sight except the young man who led us here.
"Did you kill the castle servants too?"
"Yeah."
"Why them?"
"It benefited me."
Definitely not normal.
I was certain as I eyed Patrick.
Then, out of nowhere, the necromancer beside him let out an exclamation.
"Huh?"
The necromancer alternated glances between me and the bulky trio.
He hesitated before speaking.
"Heros...?"
The necromancer knew my real name.
Which meant,
'He's an Eremus black mage.'
The instant that hit me,
Gilbert and the undead knights sensed the danger and drew their swords almost in unison.
That's when it happened.
"Heros? Who's that? Some famous mage?"
Patrick asked the necromancer.
"He's... the one who killed the Eastern Branch leader."
"So his name isn't John?"
"No. He's probably using an alias to hide his identity. Pretending to be mercenaries for the same reason."
"Oh ho."
Patrick listened to the necromancer,
then fixed his gaze on me.
He tossed another question at the necromancer without looking away.
"But a branch leader—that's the top spot in that branch, right?"
"Not exactly."
"Still strong, though."
"Yes."
"So if I beat him, it'll prove I'm a better mage than the Eastern Branch leader?"
Patrick kept his eyes on me even as he bantered with the necromancer.
Thanks to that, I could see it clearly.
His pupils sharpening with each exchange.
The emotion lighting up Patrick's face was plain: intrigue.
"Goph, I'll kill him. So up the reward you promised me. Capturing the Eastern Branch leader's killer isn't something to brush off, right? I deserve a few extra grimoires to make it worth it."
"A fair point. If Baron Patrick succeeds in killing Heros, I'll put in a good word with the branch leader."
"You'd better keep that promise."
Patrick warned the necromancer named Goph.
Then he stared at me again.
And shouted.
"Everyone, come out!"
At that moment,
from the room's corners—where the candlelight didn't reach—figures slowly emerged.
Their appearances were grotesque.
Emaciated, as if all blood had drained from their bodies.
Obviously not alive.
Yes, they were undead.
'The necromancer's doing?'
I shot a glance at Goph, suspecting.
But he wasn't doing anything.
Not his undead, then.
Undead made without necromancy...?
As I mulled that, I caught Patrick gearing up a transformation spell and turned to him.
Solving the mystery.
'He can turn into a vampire. That's how he controls undead.'
Red eyes glinting faintly in the dark.
Two fangs protruding past his lips.
The ability to command undead.
Only one monster fit all three, as far as I knew.
Vampire.
A kin to the Kudrak I'd encountered before—a bloodsucking monster with a human-like form.
Crack!
As I pieced together Patrick's true nature,
the sound of doors splintering echoed from the corridor.
Followed by dozens of footsteps.
Looks like the undead under Patrick's command weren't just the ones in here.
He'd turned every servant in the castle.
"I'll handle the mages. Sir Bear, Sir Conal—take the regular members and block the audience chamber doors."
The undead horde was coming.
To hold them off, I sent Conal, Bear, and the regulars to the entrance.
Leaving me with Gilbert, six undead knights, and the golem Giant—eight in total.
More than enough to take down two mages.