Chapter 28

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Translator: Ace

Chapter: 28

Chapter Title: The Skeleton Homunculus

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The homunculus, which he'd poured his heart and soul into creating, had shockingly taken the form of a skeleton. But surprisingly, Ian felt relief wash over him before any sense of defeat.

Though it wasn't the shape he'd envisioned, at least it hadn't been a total failure—his efforts hadn't gone completely to waste.

Hey, creating something without failing at all? That's better than blowing it entirely.

Ian kept consoling himself like that, but he couldn't help feeling a twinge of regret.

'Ah, my masterpiece...'

Ian stared at his creation. The manly warrior form he'd planned had vanished, leaving only a bony skeleton behind.

'I thought I'd made it so perfectly...'

How much effort had he invested?

He'd drawn it out meticulously and spared no expense on his prized high-grade materials.

And what was left?

Nothing.

Just bare bones.

'Eh, it's already made. No taking it back now.'

Ian shook off the thought. Dwelling on it would only sour his mood. What was done was done—he should treat this one well anyway. It was still his creation, born from his own hands.

-Are you the one who made me?

"Yeah. I made you."

-I see.

The skeleton stared blankly at Ian. He shrank back a little. The hollow skull, devoid of eyes, nose, or mouth, was eerily unsettling up close. Anyone would feel that way staring into an empty socket like that.

'What's with this guy? Why's he glaring? Is he picking a fight?'

Was it because it was a legendary soul with a strong ego? Would it disobey orders? Refuse to acknowledge him as its master?

Nope, nothing like that.

-You. My father.

The skeleton said that, then suddenly bowed at a perfect ninety degrees.

Ian couldn't help but chuckle at its next words.

-Father. I was born for you. Give me your orders. I will obey.

'Huh. He's surprisingly obedient.'

Ian had half-expected some rebellion.

Guess he'd misjudged.

"Alright, skull. Looking forward to working with you."

-Father. Me too.

It could talk. It was compliant. Despite its looks, it might turn out pretty decent.

Now, let's check its abilities.

Not bad at first glance.

Eight traits, no less.

But what really matters is how they perform.

Excluding Boundless Potential, the five basic traits matched exactly the special attributes from the 'Purified Evil Soulstone'.

He'd been floored when he first saw these options.

Even now, they still amazed him.

An evil-aligned trait immune to extra holy damage? And everything else was top-tier too.

Legendary and Noble grades were on another level, huh?

'Still broken as ever.'

Boundless Potential and Unfinished Journey were things Lara had too, so skip those. That left one.

The original 'Purified Demon Bone'.

The culprit that ruined his carefully built tower.

How impressive could the culprit be?

'Reconstruction? Like regeneration ability?'

Bones break, shatter, but reform good as new. Something like that.

'Not bad.'

Couldn't judge if it was great yet, but one thing was clear.

No need to worry about this one's safety.

'Evolves with each reconstruction? Does that mean it gets stronger every time a bone breaks and heals?'

If so, total cheat.

He'd see if it really worked that way.

'Where to drop this guy to level up fast?'

Couldn't keep it around anyway.

Parading a low-tier undead skeleton? He'd be branded evil and burned at the stake.

Release was a must...

'Where to send it so it differentiates fast like Lara?'

Nothing came to mind.

'Think on it later.'

Anyway.

First, a name.

"Skull. Your name is, uh..."

Ian glanced at it.

Bare bones.

"You're Arkbone."

Arkbone.

Roughly, ancient bone or supreme bone.

-I am Arkbone.

A pale glow emanated from the empty eye sockets of its skull.

After that, Ian pondered where and how to release Arkbone, but no good ideas came.

Where to drop an undead like this? Problems everywhere.

Two weeks passed without inspiration.

One day, while writing a magic facility inspection report as usual, Bren called him over.

"There's a problem at the Southern Ethereal Converter. All operations halted simultaneously."

"What? Completely stopped?"

"Yes."

Ian rubbed his ears. What was that again?

"Sorry? Whose fault is a screw-up that big...?"

"All the Ethereal Cores were stolen."

"Pardon?"

"You know why I called you now, right?"

"You're joking."

"Why would I joke?"

Ian shook his head. Utter nonsense.

Ethereal Converters powered hundreds, thousands of facilities. One stopping made no sense, let alone from core theft.

'How bad was security to let that happen?'

Fell asleep on guard duty?

"Why me? This isn't my assignment. Not an investigation mission."

"The Director specifically named you."

"Huh?"

"He's had his eye on you since the knighting ceremony. Reviewed your mission logs, nodded approvingly. Seems he likes you."

"Damn it."

"What?"

"Nothing."

Ian clicked his tongue. Why was Blake acting out of character? Just schmooze nobles as usual.

"Even without that, I'd have picked you. Few in the Division can recover undamaged Ethereal Cores. Needs your caliber."

"Come on, our empire's mages are skilled. Plenty of talent besides me."

"You're the best among them."

"What nonsense. A green kid like me? Division's full of stronger mages."

"Really? I don't think so."

Bren smiled knowingly. His piercing gaze made Ian shake his head.

'This guy knows too much about me.'

Ian grumbled inwardly.

Should've faked some failures. All successes just piled on more work.

"Just retrieve the cores, right?"

"Exactly."

"I'll head out then."

Serious issue, so off immediately—but Bren stopped him.

"Wait. One important thing I forgot."

"What?"

"Gonna deploy without knowing the thieves?"

"Oh."

Ian realized. Too hasty.

"Here's the wanted posters."

Ian took the thick stack. Detailed suspect appearances and info.

"Catch these guys too?"

"Doesn't matter. Kill or capture, your call. Just get the cores."

"Got it. Anything else?"

"Well... yes. Hmm..."

Bren fidgeted unusually. Ian grew impatient, thumping his chest.

"Spit it out. What's to hesitate? Dangerous foes?"

"Not that bad... but sorry to send you on this."

"Then don't."

"Necropolis."

Ian froze.

"Pardon?"

"The culprits fled to Necropolis."

Ian's jaw dropped. Even he was thrown off by that place.

Necropolis.

City of the Dead. Den of dark mages and necromancers, swarming with undead. Shadowy land so dangerous the Emperor banned approach.

Thieves there meant Ian had to go too.

Lawless hellhole.

"Joking, right?"

"No reason to."

"Ugh."

"Can you handle it?"

Ian grimaced, shaking his head.

'Now I'm getting every damn mission. Necropolis deployment...'

Then it hit him.

'Wait. Necropolis?'

Sudden great idea. Ian's lips curled up slyly.

Finally.

Perfect spot to release Arkbone.

"Fine, I'll do it."

"Really?"

"Of course. What choice? Facilities stop, losses skyrocket."

Ian covered his mouth. Excitement bubbling over—but Bren misinterpreted as nerves.

He stood, patting Ian's back.

"Sorry. Been overworking you lately. Succeed, and I'll reward you handsomely."

"Understood."

"For real?"

"Yes. Off now."

Necropolis lay in the heart of the continent's far west, the Black Wasteland—no shared border with the Empire. Ian hurried.

Five long-range warp portals, five days by carriage, two days on foot.

Skipping four nations, then hiring a local guide for another full day.

Before the particularly black wasteland, the guide halted.

"Th-that's as far as I go."

"What? Still ways from Necropolis."

"C-can't. Too dangerous."

Ian pleaded, but the guide refused flat-out.

"More money, come on."

"No! Double pay, still no!"

"Why?"

"You know why? Can't guarantee your life!"

"Ugh. Directions then."

"Straight that way. Bye."

The guide bolted, hating even a moment longer.

'Sigh. Good company wasted.'

Regrettable, but solo it was.

Ian crossed the dark soil. Everything ahead was pitch-black. The Black Wasteland.

Death aura everywhere. Undead hordes, not monsters.

Yet people lived here: vicious criminals with nowhere else.

Dark mages, necromancers, bandits, fugitives—scum flocked, forming a city.

Necropolis.

Thieves surely there.

Enter it, yes—but first, something else.

Light swirled, summoning a skeleton before Ian.

-Answering Father's call. I am here.

Arkbone, cooped up nearly a month, bowed to Ian, then scanned around curiously.

Outdoors must be novel.

-Where is this? First time.

"How's the vibe here?"

-Vibe... familiar somehow. Comforting.

Arkbone sniffed. Well, no nose—more like mimicking the motion.

As if truly smelling.

'Familiar? Because it's a skeleton.'

Technically homunculus, not undead.

But looked the part.

Stick a low zombie nearby, no oddity.

"Like it here? Decent?"

-This place, good. Not bad.

"Glad. Figured you'd like it, brought you."

-What does that mean?

"This is your home now."

-...Home?

"More precisely, your territory."

-My territory.

"Got anything you wanna do? How to live, experiences?"

-I...

Pause.

Arkbone continued.

-I will grow strong. Must. Weakness is shameful.

'Shameful, huh.'

A skull saying that.

'Soul's influence?'

Demon origin, maybe.

Demons prized strength.

Purified, but traits lingered.

"Want that? I can make it happen."

-Do it?

"Yeah. Black Wasteland's full of foes for you. Beat them, grow strong. Sound good?"

-Wrong.

"Huh?"

Wrong? What?

-Defeating foes is second best. Best is breaking.

Breaking? Bones?

-I grow strong by breaking. That is my fate.

Hm. Unlike Ddol Ddoli, it had opinions.

Good trait.

Smart subordinates were useful.

Pale glow from empty eyes.