Chapter 49
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Translator: Wjin
Chapter: 049
Chapter Title: Veterans and Newcomers (4)
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'Is it dead?'
I thought as I gazed down at the motionless troll.
At that moment, Bear and Conall, who had driven their swords into its flank, gave the hilts a full twist before pulling their weapons free.
Thick blood oozed out along the blades.
Splat.
Bear and Conall retrieved their weapons.
They shook the blood off into the air, droplets scattering in spots.
Then, the two of them set to work decapitating the troll.
It seemed like a mercy kill to make sure.
Slice.
As the knights sawed at its neck from both sides, blood poured from the wound, soaking the ground.
I stared blankly at the scene.
Right now, I just wanted to stay like this.
Thud.
Then the troll's head fell.
A massive skull that came up to my thigh.
Staring at it finally made it sink in.
That I'd survived.
And following that, the rush of euphoria.
My level had definitely gone up.
"Hah..."
As the tension released, my legs gave out.
I sank naturally to the ground.
"Lord Heros, are you all right?"
Bear hurried over and asked.
I nodded in response.
Suddenly, he grimaced.
Grinding his teeth as if enduring pain.
'What's wrong?'
I wondered and looked at Bear, but abruptly, he broke into a radiant smile.
The sudden shift in expression.
Bear, who usually kept his emotions hidden, showing this side?
I got worried.
"Sir Bear, what's going on?"
When I asked, he replied with a face full of joy.
"I've finally received Werjo's blessing."
"Werjo?"
A name I'd heard somewhere before.
Something Master had taught me once.
I rummaged through my memory and barely recalled who it belonged to.
"The Viking god?"
The western Empire.
It bordered the island called Hus.
Separated only by a strait, the islanders could cross to the west whenever they wanted.
And when they did?
They pillaged with glee.
Those people were the Vikings.
Fearless warriors, master sailors, shrewd merchants.
All words that described Vikings.
And Werjo was the name of their god.
"Yes, that's right."
Bear nodded readily.
My guess had been correct.
'Received Werjo's blessing? Could it be...'
Just as there were many terms for Vikings, their gods had various epithets too.
God of wisdom, god of victory, god of war, and so on.
Among them was the god of art.
"You got a battle tattoo?"
Werjo's blessing.
The only thing worth calling it that was a battle tattoo.
To put it simply, it was a kind of boon.
When a Viking warrior triumphed in a hard-fought battle, the god rewarded him with a tattoo.
'I heard Werjo granting battle tattoos is extremely rare.'
The effect of a battle tattoo.
It let you inherit the power of the foe you defeated.
Bear had killed a troll, so he'd probably gained something like 'troll regeneration.'
Not full troll-level healing, of course, but a much weaker version.
Still, that was plenty.
He could shrug off minor wounds.
An excellent ability.
"How did you know?"
Surprised that I knew about battle tattoos?
Bear's eyes widened as he asked.
I puffed up a bit for the first time in ages.
"I'm a mage."
But my bragging was short-lived.
I soon realized something important.
Bear having a battle tattoo meant he wasn't Empire-born.
Werjo, god of the Vikings, didn't grant tattoos to non-Vikings.
"Sir Bear, you're a Viking?"
"Yes. My father was a Viking, so I suppose I am too."
Bear admitted it matter-of-factly.
Then continued.
"But I left the island young, so I don't know much about Viking culture."
"Born a Viking, raised an Empire citizen. Got it."
I nodded, and Bear asked me.
"Does it bother you?"
"What?"
"My origins."
"Nah. And wouldn't it be more natural for you to be wary of me than the other way around?"
"Why's that?"
"I'm a necromancer. Enemy of knights sworn to uphold justice."
Bear chuckled at my joke.
Then replied.
"A necromancer and a Viking warrior. A combo straight out of a fairy tale."
"Perfect villains to threaten the Empire."
"You're right about that."
As we chuckled together, Conall approached and spoke up.
"Mind if I join in?"
Having survived death together, Conall's attitude toward me had softened.
I could even joke with him now.
"You can play the role who takes us down."
"Sadly, I can't."
"Why not?"
"My parents were barbarians, the kind Empire folk despise so much. So I must be one too."
The northern Empire, especially the far north.
Beyond lay barbarian lands.
They eked out life on harsh soil, short on food but rich in fine warriors.
So they often raided Empire territory for grain and goods.
Like Vikings, basically.
"Ah, that explains it. I thought your name was unusual. Didn't peg you for a barbarian."
Conall.
Not a common Empire name.
When I pointed it out, Conall fired back.
"Heros is pretty unusual too."
Heros meant demigod or superhuman.
Like the heroes in epics, right?
The term for them.
Way too grand for me.
"My parents must've wanted me to be a hero. That's why they named me that."
"Fine people."
"Dunno about that. They abandoned me as a baby. Left the name, but not the parenting."
Sudden orphan reveal.
Conall's eyes darted in surprise.
Then he spoke.
"Then maybe you really are a child of the gods."
"What're you talking about?"
"Gods entrust their child to a human and vanish. Common myth motif."
"A necromancer, son of gods? Sir Conall, that's blasphemy. You know that, right?"
When I shot back, Conall replied shamelessly.
"I'm a barbarian. Insulting Empire gods isn't weird."
"Fair point."
With that, we both burst out laughing.
Bear, who'd been listening, smiled too.
"So."
A moment later, Conall stopped laughing and spoke.
I looked over, wondering what next.
He continued slowly.
"What the hell is that skeleton?"
Where Conall pointed.
Gilbert stood there.
Balancing precariously on one leg, about to topple any second.
Seeing him like that depressed me.
"His name's Gilbert. Apparently a high-ranking knight in life. Master's old familiar, but somehow ended up with me."
"No wonder he fights so well. Shocked me. In the fight with the black mages' army, he crashed the rear and sowed chaos. Against the troll, he drew its attention and created an opening. Without Gilbert, you or Sir Bear might've died here."
"Not the reaction I expected. Should've revealed I'm a necromancer sooner."
"What reaction did you expect?"
"Figured you'd cut my throat the moment you realized."
"Not something a barbarian would do."
"Is that so?"
Conall and I chuckled again.
Bear, quietly listening, couldn't hold back his laughter.
But... no matter how much we laughed, my mood didn't lift.
Probably because of Gilbert, standing there on one leg staring at me.
'What do I do...'
Gilbert's body was badly damaged.
I wanted to fix it right away, but sadly, I had no way to heal him.
So he'd have to stay like this.
In that state, he couldn't move properly—combat power slashed.
'Should I unsummon him?'
First thought: recover the mana spent maintaining the summon.
Then Gilbert would crumble to a pile of bones.
After spending time together, I'd grown attached. It'd suck.
But no matter how I thought, it was best.
Dragging him around like this was too inefficient.
'Once I learn undead healing magic, I can resummon him then.'
I steeled myself with that thought...
When a brilliant idea hit me. I hurriedly called Conall.
"Sir Conall."
"Yes, Lord Heros."
"How many did you say you saved? The prisoners held by the black mages."
"Didn't count exactly, but at least thirty."
My mind sharpened.
I might've met the Underground Guide Grimoire's requirement.
Last time I heard its voice, it demanded I save thirty-two.
Today's rescues: over thirty.
That meant... quest complete?
'Let's check.'
The bundle slung over my shoulder like a crossbag.
I pulled out the Underground Guide Grimoire.
I'd kept all my grimoires on me, never knowing when I'd complete a task.
"Now you've come to understand death to some extent."
I took out the Underground Guide Grimoire and looked down at it. Soon, its voice echoed.
Looked like I'd met the requirement. Great.
'Wonder what spell it'll teach.'
The Underground Guide Grimoire held necromancy.
If lucky, maybe something to restore Gilbert's body.
'Please!'
Full of anticipation, I stared at the grimoire. Its cover flipped open on its own.
Then the familiar sight.
Pages flew by.
Flip flip!
The rustling was loud enough that Bear and Conall eyed me curiously.
No time to explain.
Stop.
The Underground Guide Grimoire halted.
At the 2/5 mark.
Meaning three more spells available via this grimoire.
But its next demand could wait.
First, check the new spell.
'Please...!'
With desperate hope, I confirmed the new magic.
Its name: Body Sculpting.
A spell to reinforce an undead's body.
'This is it!'
The moment I grasped its effect, I was certain.
I could restore Gilbert.