The Goddess of the Black Swamp (7)
Alexander was bound by the Curse of the Hermit.
A curse that thinned one's presence to near nothing.
By altering it, he could erase not only his own presence but that of everyone around him — a far more reliable form of stealth than any dark magic could provide.
Elves were far swifter than humans. The survivor from the elf village hoisted Alexander onto his back and crept silently toward the Death Warrior.
The silver grenade Alexander detonated was a holy relic infused with light magic. It had the power to stun anyone caught in the blast for a brief stretch of time.
— KRAAAAAAGH!!
The moment the Death Warrior froze in place, Agnes — transformed into her black bear form — charged. She tore its armor away with her claws as though shredding paper, then began mercilessly pulverizing the flesh beneath.
"Urgh…"
I had retreated to a corner and was busy throwing up.
I had already called on my illusory creations twice today. This time, testing the Curse of Worship, I had even summoned two of them at once. The gut-twisting sensation that came with every use of my altering ability was growing more familiar — but I had hit my limit.
"…Young master…!"
Agnes saw the state I was in and rushed over at once. I waved a hand at her, signaling that I was fine.
"Cough… Don't worry… Still, I don't think I can maintain the centipedes any longer…"
"…Why push yourself this hard…"
"I'm not pushing myself… I just have terrible stamina… Anyway, it looks like the Apostles of Death have all been dealt with… so leave the rest to Clara… Urgh…"
Without the Apostles of Death, Veronica no longer needed to draw magical attacks onto herself. Clara could freely rain down magic now without worry.
"…Understood. …If your condition gets any worse, you must tell me."
"Ah… and also…"
"…The elf elders, I take it. …It won't be easy, but if I find them, I'll only subdue them."
Veronica moved away from me, heading toward the carriage where Clara waited.
Among those shambling corpses, there were surely elders who had become thralls of the Undead King. Without them, we could not enter the Black Swamp. Crushing them the way we had the other thralls was out of the question. My creations might already have pulverized them, of course — but I thought it more likely the Death Warrior had kept them stationed at the center of its formation.
"Hah… hah…"
I had said I wasn't pushing myself. But I doubted I could move any further today. My body was frail to begin with, and the curses were draining my life force dry. Dorothy shared the burden through the Heretic's Offering trait, but with one more curse added to the load, the overall consumption had grown that much heavier.
The day had already grown dark. No one would suggest heading into the Black Swamp right away.
— Kieeeeek!
The aged elves thrashed about with their arms and legs severed. By sheer luck, we managed to find all three elders before Clara's lightning could sweep them up.
They had been dead a long time, yet still moved as slaves of death.
"How did the elders end up like this…"
"We need to enter the Black Swamp… Will that be all right?"
"Do as you please. They're already gone, aren't they? Just cremate them when you're finished."
With the somber elf's permission, I drew my silver dagger. It was the catalyst for the Curse of Obsession, but right now I meant to use it purely as a blade. The moment I brought the edge close, though, I hesitated — I had no idea how to proceed.
"…Young master?"
"I, uh… I need the eyeballs. I've never dissected a person before, so…"
"…Alexander."
"Ah, r-right… Young master, c-could I… borrow the knife?"
I handed the silver dagger to Alexander. Even as the thrall-elders shrieked and thrashed, he extracted their eyeballs with practiced, clean precision. And through the entire process, he kept grinning to himself.
He had always seemed so lacking in confidence. Yet earlier he had faced the Death Warrior without a moment's hesitation. He was a harder man to read than I'd thought.
When he finished, Alexander produced a leather pouch and dropped the eyeballs inside. The elf added something that looked like medicinal herbs, saying it would keep them from rotting.
"To enter the Black Swamp, you need three eyes from elf elders. It seems the Death Warrior simply turned these three into thralls and brought them along."
"…Does that mean every time someone wants to go in, the elders pluck out their own eyes?"
"Not quite. Ordinarily we use the eyes of previous elders who have already passed on. And even those aren't handed out to just anyone."
"Six eyeballs, then. Only two people can go in."
"Finding more of the elders' eyes will be difficult. Those undead left nothing behind."
"…Then it would be best if you and I go in, young master."
"…What? No. I'm fine, really. The Special Task Force should go among yourselves."
When I refused, Veronica tilted her head as though caught off guard.
"…Why?"
"You were the ones who wanted to meet the Goddess from the start. I just came along to help."
"…But I've never been to the Black Swamp. …As someone with experience, you should come…"
"I've never been to the Black Swamp either."
"No. You have."
"Excuse me?"
The elf cut in at a moment I hadn't expected.
"Didn't I tell you? Lady Manfred brought you to meet the previous elder. Or rather — the one before that, now."
"But you said you didn't know why she came…"
"What else would a human meeting an elder mean, if not entering the Black Swamp? What I meant was that I don't know why she wanted to see the Goddess."
"…I was a baby. You can hardly call that experience…"
"I wasn't trying to say that. I was simply contradicting your claim that you'd never been."
I had the distinct impression that the corner of Veronica's mouth had curled upward, ever so slightly. Mine, on the other hand, was in no position to do anything of the sort.
"…If, by any chance, you were refusing to come with me because it would put your life in danger…"
"…"
Veronica's read was dead on.
I had planned, if she kept pressing me to enter the Black Swamp, to refuse on the grounds that it was too dangerous. The condition I had set from the beginning was that I would run the moment things turned deadly — and she had accepted it.
In Luke's Biography, the Goddess of the Black Swamp was a mindless monster, for reasons no one could explain given the title of "goddess." She appeared as a considerably powerful field boss, and at my current level I considered meeting her a genuine risk.
That didn't mean I intended to leave the Special Task Force to die. Veronica had altered the Curse of Severance so that no attack could harm her. She would make it back alive without trouble. For the second person, they could take Alexander — erase their presence and flee from the Goddess. With luck, they might even learn why the Undead King was interested in her. Even if they didn't, confirming the Goddess's existence would be harvest enough.
For my part, eliminating the Undead King's thralls so close to the territory was more than sufficient.
"…Only I need go from the Special Task Force. …So come with me. …Young master."
"…"
But now I couldn't use the "life in danger" excuse.
Lady Manfred — an ordinary human with no combat ability whatsoever — and I, a mere infant, had both returned from that swamp and lived perfectly well ever since. At least at this point in time, the Goddess did not seem to be so dangerous a being.
And now, I couldn't help but be curious myself.
"The reason Mother took me to meet the Goddess…"
I could simply go home and ask Lady Manfred. But the baron's unfinished words came back to me.
If your mother finds out you're going to the Black Swamp…
There was clearly some secret involved.
"All right. I'll go with you. …We're not heading there right this moment, though, are we?"
"…Of course not. …The day has grown far too dark. …We should rest in this village tonight."
"A pity there isn't a single intact house left. You've done us the kindness of sparing the elders further humiliation, and I can't even offer you proper hospitality."
The elf surveyed the burned-out village as he spoke. He was right — every building had either collapsed or was on the verge of it. Nowhere was fit to spend the night.
"The underground larder should be all right, though. Care to try it? Not enough room to lie down and sleep, mind you."
"Oh! You wouldn't happen to have any meat, would ya? I've been starvin' all day."
"Brother. I think we need to feed Dorothy something as well."
— Grrrrrr…
Dorothy, who had spent the entire day in her wolf form, was drooling freely. Clara stroked the great wolf's cheek with a look of pity. If I hadn't been controlling her through the Curse of the Puppet, hunger might already have driven her mad enough to attack someone.
Agnes, having altered the Curse of the Mad Bear, seemed able to transform at will. Dorothy, however, could not return to human form until she had filled her belly.
"If dried meat will do, I have some."
"Ohhh! Better than nothin'!"
"…Then the rest of us will lodge underground. …Young master and the young lady should eat and then rest in the carriage. …It will be more comfortable there."
After first cremating the thrall-elders, we followed the elf's guidance to the underground larder, where a fair stock of jerky awaited. Dorothy and Agnes polished off the entire supply in moments, before anyone else got a taste. The rest of us had to make do with hard bread and a thin, watery gruel.
"Mmm… Master…"
Clara, Dorothy, and I climbed into the carriage. Dorothy, back in her human form, had wrapped herself in a blanket and fallen asleep leaning against me.
"I wonder why Dorothy only ever listens to you, Brother…"
Clara looked at me with thoroughly envious eyes.
"I don't really know either."
I understood that she served me as her master because I held the catalyst for the Curse of the Puppet. But why she trailed after me alone like a puppy was beyond me. Telling her it was fine to spend time with other people never did any good.
"We survived at the end thanks to you stepping in. Thank you."
"You and the Special Task Force handled most of it."
"How did you know to follow us, though?"
"I asked Father. What the two of you had talked about."
"…And he actually told you?"
"Yes. Everything — about the Undead King and the Goddess both."
"Hah…"
The baron was overflowing with love for his children in general, but he seemed especially weak when it came to his daughter.
"…If you're going to do something dangerous with that body, I'd really prefer you consult me first."
Of course she was unhappy that someone was throwing the body of her precious older brother into situations like this without a word. But it wasn't as though I had been deliberately hiding things from her.
"This time it was classified. I couldn't say anything. At first they even told me not to tell Father."
"Hmm… Well, if that's the case…"
Clara seemed to have no further desire to press the matter, and closed her eyes. I closed mine as well, ready to sleep — but she spoke again.
"The reason Mother took you to meet the Goddess… do you think it has something to do with your curse…?"
"It might."
Perhaps she had followed the superstitions of the territory's people all the way to the Goddess, desperate to save a son born under a curse.
"Whatever you hear… you have to tell me too."
"All right. I promise."
When morning came, I would learn something about Karl's past that Luke's Biography had never revealed — truths lost forever when Karl the demon-worshipper died alone. And I had a feeling those truths would not be unrelated to the reason I had come to this world.