Chapter 33
Chapter 33
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 33
Chapter Title: Infermer, the City Where the Dragon Sleeps (3)
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The lowest level of the underground cavern resembled a construction site. Fernandez carefully tested each wooden stair with his foot, scanning the ground below.
‘Fifteen of them.’
-All wizards. One’s got some real skill.
‘I’ve never seen such a perfect corpse before.’
At the center of the lowest level lay a dragon skeleton, its upper body exposed. The rest of the remains appeared to still be buried in the floor.
Even accounting for its short spines, the dragon was so massive it couldn’t be taken in at a glance. Wizards in hooded robes scurried about, busily etching magic circles and runes into the dragon’s bones and the floor.
One of the fangs attached to the dragon’s skull was the size of an average young child. Thick mana permeated the cavern like drifting mist. Fernandez drew a deep breath, the density so intense it made his head spin.
‘It’s almost done. A resurrection ritual. Can they really revive remains that have to be at least two thousand years old?’
-Theoretically, yes.
‘Right. Theoretically.’
Was there any branch of magic as diverse as the spells to revive the dead? In the necromantic schools focused on resurrection, the key factor was always ‘scope.’
The tier of the Spirit (Yeong), the experiences and memories of the Soul (Hon) and Po (Vital Soul), the presence of Seong (Nature). How far did the revival extend? Naturally, the closer it came to the subject’s state in life, the more difficult it became—recreating them exactly as they were before death was practically impossible.
Thus, even if these fools succeeded, it wouldn’t be the original ‘dragon.’ At best, they’d birth a monster—a lowly knockoff of a dragon.
Even so, a creation bearing even a fragment of draconic power would still be a dire threat.
-They’re more competent than I thought.
‘With skills like that, why haven’t we heard of them?’
To Fernandez’s eye, their magic was remarkably precise. But necromancers—experimental ones especially—weren’t built for combat. He gripped his dagger tight.
-Screeeeech!! Splurt!!
A wizard bent over, inscribing a magic circle on the floor, collapsed as if his spine had snapped.
“?!”
The wizard beside him, adjusting mana flows, recoiled in horror and checked on the fallen man. A dagger was buried deep in the center of the victim’s forehead.
“Byne!!! W-What the hell?!”
“Stop right there!”
Fernandez leaped from the wooden stairs, landing lightly on the cavern floor. The wizards’ startled gazes converged on him.
“A h-human?! You Franzrit bastards!! What the hell do you think—”
“Easy now. They put up a good fight too.”
The wizards hastily backed away from Fernandez. His tunic was soaked through with vampire blood.
“Who are you! Why are you—Guh!”
-Crack.
Fernandez hurled a dagger at the wizard pointing at him. The others flinched and fell silent.
He’d expended both of the Church’s combat throwing knives. Clutching his notched longsword, Fernandez swept his gaze over the wizards.
“Who’s in charge here?”
“...”
The wizards exchanged uneasy glances, saying nothing. Then, from behind the dragon’s skull, another wizard emerged.
“What’s all this commotion? Who the hell are you!”
“Ah, that’d be you.”
Fernandez smirked. Heretical sects or black mage cabals, their leaders always had to announce themselves. It was a trait born of scraping by in oppressive societies, always watching their backs.
“The RuneRaven school, right?”
“...Who sent you?”
Fernandez thrust his longsword skyward. The wizard’s lips twisted at the sight.
“An Inquisitor?! How’d you sniff us out? No way the Pantheon sends investigators into elven lands. Did the Holy Pantheon of Good Gods ally with the Elfin Serpent King? Seemed wise, did it?”
The wizard retreated a step, placing a hand on the dragon’s skull. He eyed Fernandez warily.
“Elves are never on humanity’s side! Demons might want to rule us, sure. But elves? Their endgame is reconquering the continent! They see humans as less than parasites—more, even!”
“So you think demon worship is justified?”
“That’s why the Holy Pantheon of Good Gods are blind fools! They can’t see past the end of their noses!”
“No. That’s not what I meant.”
Fernandez advanced slowly on the wizard. Bluff or not, it was time to intimidate. The wizards were rattled by the surprise attack, gripped by fear.
He had to buy time and end it in one swift stroke. He lacked the gear to cut them all down at once. Meanwhile, their ritual was nearing completion.
“The Pantheon’s gods aren’t benevolent toward humans either. They just want to herd us like sheep and harvest our faith.”
“...?”
The wizard blinked in confusion. That was downright heretical for an Inquisitor. Fernandez tensed his body, closing in.
“But demons? They crave our Spirit (Yeong) and Soul (Hon)-Po. That can’t be undone. Demon rule? We’d survive only as soulless puppets, toys to be played with and discarded.”
“Complete the ritual!!!”
-Crack.
Fernandez seized the shouting wizard by the collar and smashed his jaw with the longsword’s pommel. The man went limp without resistance.
“Ah, but the control incantation isn’t finished yet...”
“He’s gonna kill us all! Hurry! Do it!!”
Fernandez flung the unconscious wizard aside and whirled around. He growled low.
“First one to move dies.”
“!!!!”
Overwhelmed by his presence, the wizards froze. As Fernandez turned toward the nearest one, another bolted in the interim.
“Don’t move.”
-Crack!
“Told you not to.”
“Guhh...”
Fernandez’s longsword plunged into the wizard’s gut. The man crumpled, gasping in agony. Blood pooled on the floor. Fernandez reached to retrieve his blade.
-Crackle.
In his final moments, the wizard scrawled something in his own blood on the ground. An activation word. The keyword to ignite the magic circle’s circuits. Gritting his teeth, Fernandez spun around.
“It’s starting!!!!”
-Ruuuumble...
-Groooowl...
The cavern shook violently as the mana saturating the air began to writhe. Fernandez dashed straight into the center, where the mana circuits glowed red-hot.
‘Feizashi! Needing a control ritual for undead resurrection means...’
-They’re reviving the dragon’s spirit too.
‘Damn it all.’
With his current mana reserves, driving in a mana spike to disrupt it was out of the question—a grand ritual beyond him. Fernandez bit his lip.
At least their ritual was incomplete. That was the one hope: unlike his past life, this flawed incantation might let him seize control of the resulting dragon.
Unintended gamble, but no choice. Fernandez formed hand seals, feeling mana bore into him like fire.
-Necromancy... Gives me chills.
‘Necessary. It’s necessary.’
He said it to himself, not Feizashi. The thought of necromancy and undead chilled his blood too.
Fine, call it for his son. Finishing the seals, Fernandez stared ahead. Within the dragon’s skull, a blue ghostly flame began to spread.
Two thousand years later, at last. The dragon was reviving.
*
Kirhas darted through dark alleys, keeping to the shadows. She sensed heretics dashing about with torches here and there. She could take one or two, but... their numbers were beyond expectation.
‘Why are there so many heretics hiding in an elven city?’
-Crash!
“HuHe... Xiche!”
“Eek!?”
The wall Kirhas hid behind exploded, and a muscle-bound brute appeared, bellowing a laugh. Complex tattoos on his body emitted an eerie blue glow.
Behind him loomed the shape of a crow.
“Xiche... Caught you, wench!”
The brute slurred in a thick accent, unfamiliar with the continental tongue. Kirhas swiftly backpedaled, drawing her sword.
-Shing!
“Guh! What strength?!”
“Pathetic rat!”
The brute drew a blue dagger and parried her blade. His bulk negated her weapon’s reach advantage, evening the odds.
-Clang! Clang!
“Not bad! Wench!”
Kirhas parried his dagger strikes repeatedly, retreating. His raw power and momentum were violence incarnate. It felt like sparring with Demonica brethren.
Sparring with Demonica—monsters who overwhelmed technique with brute force and instinct. To her, hardened by such bouts, the brute’s heavier movements were...
‘Familiar!’
She was used to foes larger than herself! Spotting the arc of his dagger, she slipped inside it.
“What?!”
-Whoosh!!
His forearm whistled over her head. Kirhas rolled, emerging behind him. Her blade flashed in the moonlight.
-Boom!
“Urk?!”
Just as her sword bit into his back, the crow-shaped aura orbiting him shoved her away roughly! Kirhas twisted midair, landing gracefully.
The brute glared, panting. He pointed at her with one hand, fingers bent at unnatural angles.
“Wizard!”
“Chreat! Xixe Charka!”
-Fwoosh!
Blue flames erupted from his gesture toward her. Kirhas rolled backward, evading the blaze. Where she’d stood, fire caught and raced up the wall, igniting the alley!
“Tatch, Oraion!”
“??”
As the flames closed in, a robed heretic stumbled into the alley mouth, yelling. The brute whipped his head toward him.
In that instant, a silver gleam rent the air.
-Slash.
The heretic’s head flew up.
Terror and shock etched clear on his face. Blood jetted high, then fell.
-Thud.
The head hit the ground and rolled; a beat later, the body collapsed.
“Sir Basil. Taking your evening stroll in rough parts?”
Behind the heretic, silver hair fluttered in the breeze.
-Clink.
Leia sheathed her longsword and stepped forward. Her sharp eyes fixed on the brute. He froze, stunned by her sudden arrival.
“Douse your magic, human.”
“Eld?! Eld ridare Bane!”
“Northern barbarian tongue. How’d you cross the North Sea?”
“Elven warrior!! Useless vampires!”
Leia tensed toward the brute, hand drifting to her sword hilt. Elven swordsmanship. Kirhas recalled a manual from the Inquisition library.
The style of ship-dwelling elves—tailored for chaotic melee on cramped decks. A single, piercing thrust aimed at the enemy’s core!
“Eld Victi!! Wrela!”
Leia’s eyes widened at the brute’s words; she halted. Seizing the moment, he roared in fury and vaulted up the alley wall.
“P-Princess Leia! He got away!”
“After him, Sir! I-I have urgent business!”
“Huh?”
“I must see General Aildern!!”
Leia bit her lip and fled the alley. Grand General Aildern—King Gaimern’s closest confidant and Royal Guard Captain! If he’d betrayed them, the king’s safety was in peril!
“Uh...”
Kirhas stared blankly after Leia. The flames licking the wall had died down. With a sigh, she slipped a hand into her tunic.
Her censer was there. Time to regroup with Silverlight anyway.
*