Chapter 83
Chapter 83
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 83
Chapter Title: Necromancer Tabul's Grievance
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Necromancer Tabul was utterly pissed off right now.
"Why here, of all places?"
He had a decent grasp on the humans of this world. He hadn't slacked off when it came to gathering knowledge, either.
Pretty much every other country was in ruins, half-destroyed. The only nation still functioning properly as a country was this one called South Korea.
"But the distance!"
He knew exactly where that country was located. The place where he'd set up his lab, this city of Harbin, wasn't all that far from Korea—but it wasn't exactly close, either.
To begin with, there was an Erosion Zone sprawled between Korea and Harbin that you'd have to cross.
"They're seriously gonna cut off their own waist just like that?"
Those crazy bastards. He'd chosen this spot in the first place because he was certain Korea's forces would never pull some reckless stunt like this.
They'd never done it before, and he figured they never would. It had been their longstanding policy for ages.
"Did they get a new king or something? Nah, that country doesn't have a king."
What a ridiculous world. Letting a bunch of idiot commoners elect their own leaders.
It was a stupid system where the only choices were con artists sweet-talking people with extra candy. Not true leaders, but smooth-talking swindlers who became kings.
Anyway, that wasn't the point.
The issue was that this laughable country with its clownish political system had suddenly chugged some kind of potion or whatever and whipped their forces around on a dime.
And then they'd ignored the Erosion Zone right over their heads and come charging straight into Harbin.
"Goddamn it, why are they so strong?!"
In the countless floating images in the air, the undead he'd created were getting absolutely shredded.
Massacre, pest control, cleanup, incineration. Any word you slapped on it fit the scene perfectly.
"I wasn't expecting much from them anyway!"
But getting curb-stomped like this was unacceptable. In fact, he was holding off those hundreds of troops pushing in without any real issues.
Lots of bodies, all disposable. Just trash you used up and tossed.
"But what the hell are those two?!"
What was really grinding his gears were the two operating separately. One female, one male. The female was coming down from the north, the male pushing up from the south.
Not putting up a proper fight? Fine. But this wasn't just failing to resist—it was a total non-event. Especially the male.
"..."
His undead froze solid before they could even get close, shattering on their own. At least the female had the decency to swing a sword now and then, but that male punk didn't even have basic manners for facing an enemy.
"Why are they heading straight here? Damn it all."
Even more ominous was that the male and female were moving in a perfect straight line toward the island where his lab was.
'Bet you're here, right? You're dead meat.'
It felt like ice creeping up his spine, already dried to the bone. His bare jawbones, stripped of flesh, chattered faintly.
If they found the lab, he was in trouble.
He quickly reviewed his research subjects 1 through 12. Each one crafted with the utmost care. Masterpieces, if he said so himself.
"This is insane."
But watching those two beasts racing toward his lab island now, he couldn't shake the doubt.
Like a commoner invited to a noble party, pulling out his best clothes from the closet and staring at them.
He'd done his best, but his gut screamed it wouldn't be enough.
"What the hell is this?!"
A massive boom shook the entire lab ceiling, cracks spiderwebbing across it.
And there, through the shattered ceiling—just moments ago, he'd been agonizing over them—were the male and female, dropping right in.
Arriving in the musty underground lab, I brushed the dust off my shoulders and eyed the skeleton in front of me.
"Hey there."
"You lot—there was still some distance left!"
I gave a pitying look at the voice ranting from the skull.
"Decoy bait to fool detection spells. You telling me you don't know about that?"
A trick to fool mages' detection magic. Hell, it wasn't even worth calling proper magic.
"As if trash like you could pull that off!"
What a whiner. Results were right in his face, but he couldn't accept it. Not a great habit.
Even waving proof under his nose, he tried to ignore it. Pathetic. As he floated magic circles around him and waved his hands, nearby glass tanks shattered one by one, spilling their contents.
"Ever heard of design?"
What burst out were undead. And every single one was hideous. Skilled necromancers cared about aesthetics. Even patchwork corpses could be made cool or pretty if you had the chops.
The necromancer I'd fought before had Death Knights that could've been runway models.
But these, lining up to protect their master? Total duds.
Proof he lacked the skill to even bother with looks.
"Being pretty makes them stronger?"
Han Sang-ah's question got a nod from me.
"Generally, yeah."
Most undead were fueled by resentment—a base jealousy of the living. Jealousy meant wanting what others had.
Undead hated all life, but paradoxically, that meant they craved the same forms as what they despised.
"Animal, human—doesn't matter."
The more perfect the form, the stronger the undead.
A well-made one could hold saintly conversations, and aside from pale skin or a faint rot smell, you'd never clock it as undead.
"Spray on some cologne, good makeup—normies wouldn't have a clue."
"Shut your trap! I've got talent!"
Clinging to denial. I stared at the skeleton-slash-necromancer wannabe.
"Buddy, you've got no talent. You know it—why spout crap that won't land?"
He had a massive mana pool. Enough to turn the city's corpses into undead. But his control? Laughable.
"Kill them."
His lid fully blown off, he ignored me and ordered his minions.
Twelve undead charged us with roars, targeting me and Han Sang-ah. One had jaws big enough to swallow a house; another had one freakishly oversized arm, like I'd seen before.
A whole menagerie of grotesque freaks came at us.
"Jeez, it's not like they're ice cream flavors."
Variety pack, huh? Still, they seemed about Grade 2 Erosion Core level.
A brute with massive hammers instead of hands swung wildly at me. My spear clashed with its hammer, cracking the floor deep where we stood.
"Whoa, kid's got some power."
With its hammer locked against my spear, its muscles bulged, pushing hard.
I timed a subtle wrist flick, and its body flipped up, slamming into the wall. Meanwhile, the others hustled.
A squishy tentacle whip lashed at me, tipped with razor blades.
But before it reached, a flash—tentacles sliced, wriggling on the floor like squid legs.
"Deep-fry those, they'd be killer."
"Corpses aren't hygienic, dummy. You'd die."
Han Sang-ah parried six incoming scythes, severing the undead's legs.
Its "masterpieces," so proudly unveiled, shattered one by one in our hands. The owner's face filled with despair.
"This is starting to feel like we're the jerks raiding someone's liquor cabinet."
Thwack. Paradox Flame backflowed from my spear embedded in an undead's skull. That was the last one.
"You bastard...!"
Through the roaring black flames, past the fallen corpses, I strode toward their owner.
"Any last words, pal...?"
I accelerated in a blink, smashing his skull.
"Nah?"
I floated the headless skeleton, pulverized it, then incinerated it fully with Paradox Flame.
"Sorry, no plans to let you do jack."
Give 'em an opening, variables pop up. Variables mean risking the win.
Nobody likes losing a sure thing. Hear their dying words? What am I, a chaplain at a hospice?
I came here to kill him. So that's what I do.
"Target eliminated."
Confirming he was toast, I radioed the Seagull Team to report mission complete.
Harbin's undead were now just wild animals, nothing special.
"Let's regroup."
"Got it."
Han Sang-ah nodded and stood. That's when a chill shot up my spine—I froze, face hardening.
"What the fuck is this."
Beyond disbelief, I bolted out of the lab, staring west at the sky.
Into my earpiece:
"Jeong No-hun, evac that spot east now, or you're dead."
If he questioned it right now with a 'What?'—instant death.
Lucky for him, not his day to die. The moment he bailed, a flash from the west swept the top of the Harbin Lungta tower where he'd been.
No explosion, no shattering. Just the pinnacle melted and corroded badly in the light.
Yeah, that's magic. I thought, then spoke up.
"All other hunters, retreat along designated routes effective immediately."
But pulling everyone back left no blockers. I turned to Han Sang-ah.
"You're stuck with me for the hard part."
"Fine."
She pondered a sec, then nodded. Not just her—Jeong No-hun, fresh off escaping the tower, needed to join too.
Insane. I made a dumbfounded face.
"Just 50 putting out that much mana?"
Impressive. I gave Seagull a quick assessment.
They're masking their presence. And not amateur-hour—expert level. 50, huh? Means at least one handles mana like a certified state mage from my old world.
Or a squad of solid casters.
"This is dangerous. Remember what happened when you ignored my warning during the Sohwi incident?"
With precedent on their side, Seagull Team didn't question me and acted fast.