The Path of the King (4)
Fenrir lunged toward Comet, only to freeze mid-stride and stagger. Comet’s spiritual energy pressed down on the beast, demanding obedience.
Comet’s spiritual energy suppresses the target.
“How dare you insult me!” The necromancer’s eyes widened. He summoned his own spiritual energy in defiance. The two forces collided, and the battle for dominance over the spirit body began.
A fight for control of a spirit body was overwhelmingly advantageous to its original owner. The attacker had to analyze the spirit’s structure, exploit its weaknesses, seize control, and simultaneously block any interference from the defender. The defender, on the other hand, only needed to disrupt the attacker’s delicate techniques with raw spiritual energy. To steal a spirit body, the attacker had to understand and completely overpower the defender’s theories and applications.
Comet smiled faintly. If there was one unfortunate truth for this necromancer, it was that Comet’s skill wasn’t lacking in any field. She simply found close-combat builds more useful and enjoyable, so she used them most often.
Part of Comet’s spiritual energy restrained the necromancer’s while another portion probed and manipulated Fenrir. As the chains binding the spirit body began to unravel one by one, the necromancer’s face drained of color.
“No! This can’t happen!”
The necromancer let out a desperate scream. Comet seized the opening and unleashed a concentrated surge of spiritual energy. Fenrir writhed in agony and howled. A portion of its pure white spirit body darkened to black.
It was over.
Comet withdrew her spiritual energy. The necromancer stared at Fenrir in disbelief, then shrieked and fled. Fenrir padded over, panting like any ordinary wolf. Its tail wagged.
Comet reached out and rubbed its snout affectionately. The design was clearly crafted with great care. Even behaviors unnecessary for combat had been taught. While it wasn’t something outsiders of the school usually heard, elite minority builds tended to pour immense effort into spirit body design. After all, that was usually the entire point—and the most enjoyable part.
If a spirit body looked grotesque or hideous, it simply reflected the necromancer’s personal taste. Asking why a tentacle monster had been taught to writhe its tentacles would only leave the creator embarrassed. Close-combat builds had similar quirks—insisting on switching a perfectly good weapon to a scythe for the finishing blow, for example. Among fellow necromancers, questioning such things was simply bad manners. Everyone knew it was the goal. What was the point of mocking someone for it?
Comet glanced at the fleeing necromancer and pointed.
“Fenrir, fetch.”
“Stay back!”
Fenrir charged. Concrete debris in its path shattered. Fangs flashed. The necromancer raised one arm. A spray of blood erupted. He screamed and collapsed. Fenrir chewed and swallowed the torn arm, then looked back at the approaching Comet with an expression that clearly said, Praise me.
“Good boy, good boy. You’re not even picky about your food.”
She stroked its snout again. As she did, Comet casually stepped on the necromancer’s remaining arm. The limb that had been trying to rummage through his clothes let out a sickening crunch. Another scream rang out. The necromancer didn’t last much longer.
Comet examined Fenrir’s design with satisfaction before searching the necromancer’s belongings. She found several items that appeared to be personally crafted through alchemy and tossed them aside carelessly. This wasn’t what she needed. If she was going to scavenge junk, she might as well ask the Chairwoman for proper supplies.
She discovered several Soul Beads and pocketed them. It seemed the necromancer had worked hard during the rift incident; the quantity was impressive. Once she got home, she planned to wash them with dish detergent and eat them. With plenty of emergency souls secured, she could raise her synchronization rate significantly.
“The results are excellent. I’ll have to check the fourth floor to be sure, but this is more than satisfying.”
As expected, the old saying of the School of Necromancy held true. When something felt lacking, killing a nearby necromancer always filled the gap.
“It usually does when you fight a necromancer who isn’t specialized in close combat. In the end, it all comes down to the battle for spirit body dominance. Shall we head up now? Considering what I used in the fight, I doubt there’s much left, but let’s see.”
Comet let Fenrir finish devouring the corpse, then climbed to the fourth floor. As expected, it was a research workshop. The space was large enough to serve multiple purposes. There was even an area dedicated to torture. A body that hadn’t been dead long lay there—most likely the source of the scream she had heard before entering.
“I suppose so.”
Comet stared quietly at the biological chimera created from monster and human parts. It was dead. The necromancer’s alchemical skills must have been lacking; it was clearly a failure. Considering Fenrir’s high degree of completion, it seemed the necromancer had attempted an entity chimera based on biological chimeras. It wasn’t his main specialty, but he had given it a try.
In one corner of the fourth floor stood a table. A map of Seoul was spread across it. Several locations were circled, with notes beside them detailing estimated arrival times for nearby military units and police special forces. Long comparisons of expected soul yield versus risk followed.
“I’m overjoyed.”
It seemed this necromancer had been planning some kind of terrorism. Once he had gathered enough souls, government authority must have started to look insignificant. It was an ambitious attitude, but not a particularly good plan.
After looking around the fourth floor a little longer, Comet descended the stairs. There was nothing else to see. She left the officetel.
#
A few days later, in the morning, Dan Gayeon came to visit. Comet greeted her still wearing pajamas.
“Why are you in pajamas again…?”
She seemed to remember that Comet had been wearing pajamas during her last visit as well.
Comet smiled brightly.
“You came in the morning. I don’t show this look to just anyone. Please, come in.”
“Should I come back later?”
“No, it’s fine. Make yourself comfortable.”
Dan Gayeon hesitated for a moment before stepping inside and sitting on a chair. Comet sat across from her. Dan Gayeon fidgeted, then asked carefully.
“Do you need time to change?”
“If you’d like to watch, I wouldn’t mind.”
Comet gave her a playful smile.
“N-no, that’s not what I meant…”
“Now that I think about it, what do you wear to sleep, Chief Dan?”
“Huh? Clothes?”
Dan Gayeon looked flustered by the sudden question.
“If you sleep in pajamas, would you like me to give you a set?”
Comet stood up and walked to her closet. She pulled out a pair of pajamas.
“These are ones I’ve worn.”
She offered them to Dan Gayeon, who refused to take them.
“Why would you give me something you’ve already worn? I don’t need them.”
“It would make us seem closer, wouldn’t it?”
“That’s weird.”
Comet shrugged and put the pajamas back in the closet.
“They’re one of my favorites, though.”
“I definitely don’t need them now.”
When Comet sat down again, Dan Gayeon pulled several documents from her bag. They were sketches of clothing designs.
“What are these?”
“The Chairwoman promised to provide you with defensive gear, right?”
“She did say something like that.”
“So we’ve prepared design drafts. Pick one, and the government will produce it for you.”
“Is this official support?”
“Um… can something like this even be unofficial?”
Dan Gayeon sounded a bit dazed.
“Ah, I see.”
Comet twirled a strand of hair by her temple.
“Never mind that last question. Did the Chairwoman design these herself? The quality seems much higher than when I ordered gear back in the game.”
“I believe professional fashion designers were brought in. It’s also part of the government’s job creation efforts.”
“No wonder the designs are better than the Chairwoman’s own skills.”
Dan Gayeon let out a small laugh. Apparently she found it amusing when her superior was being criticized.
“I won’t tell the Chairwoman you said that.”
“It’s the truth.”
“That too.”
Dan Gayeon pulled out one more document. As expected from something labeled official support, there were various forms Comet needed to fill out.
“Just fill in the blanks as written. If anything is unclear, tell me and I’ll explain.”
“There’s a section for body measurements?”
“It’s clothing, after all.”
Comet looked at the empty fields and smiled.
“Now that I think about it, I don’t know my own measurements.”
Dan Gayeon froze, then unconsciously glanced toward Comet’s closet. It was obvious why—inside were the dresses and outfits Comet usually wore.
“Those are just everyday clothes. Would you like to take my measurements?”
“I did bring a tape measure as part of the procedure, but…”
Dan Gayeon looked like she was questioning whether this was even appropriate. Regardless, Comet stood up. Dan Gayeon hesitantly took out the tape measure and approached.
“Should I take off my pajamas?”
“Absolutely not! The fabric is thin, so I can measure over them.”
“I see.”
Dan Gayeon unfolded the tape measure.
“Then… I’ll start with the bust measurement.”
“Go right ahead.”
Comet lightly raised her arms. The tape measure slowly approached her chest, wrapping around just below her armpits. The once-loose tape gradually tightened, pressing against her breasts. The soft rustle of fabric and tape filled the quiet room.
Dan Gayeon glanced up at Comet. Comet simply smiled back at her.
“Chief Dan, when you eat strawberry cake, what do you eat first? The strawberry or the cake?”
“…Strawberry cake?”
“Yes.”
“It depends on the day, but I’d probably eat the strawberry first. As an appetizer, I suppose.”
Dan Gayeon wrote down the bust size on the form.
“Do you like strawberries?”
“Doesn’t everyone?”
“You eat what you like first. I’m the type who eats according to my mood, so it’s hard to say what I’d choose. I’ll treat you to strawberry cake sometime. We can eat it together and find out.”
“Yeah. Next is…”
Dan Gayeon finished taking all the measurements and left. Comet had suggested they look at the design drafts together, but she declined, saying she was busy.
Comet rested her chin on her hand and examined the drafts. They were all decent. Since the designers didn’t know her personally, a few didn’t quite match her personality, but the overall quality was excellent.
“This one seems the best. The white base with black accents matches my taste perfectly.”
“Really?”
“The black one? This?”
It was a design based on black with red accents. Comet suddenly recalled the Princess’s epithet: Blood and Shadow. Her taste really was consistent.
“It’s too black. I don’t like it. When I summon my wings, everything turns black anyway, so the color scheme wouldn’t match. I’ll just go with the one I picked.”
The Princess protested vehemently. Comet ignored her and continued filling out the paperwork.
“It’s not like you’re the one who’s going to wear it.”
What a remarkable way of thinking.