Episode 82: Undead

Then Guartes spoke.

“But be careful. Nothing in this world is limitless. Thought Devouring is no exception. That skeleton is impressive, no doubt, but it has its limits.”

He warned with a serious face.

“If you get greedy, it’ll break under the strain.”

“Break, as in… cease to exist?”

“Exactly.”

Even as a cleric, Guartes had dedicated his life to death and necromancy.

Naturally, he knew more about necromancy than I did.

I decided to heed his advice.

“Got it.”

Guartes smiled, satisfied.

“Why not study necromancy while you’re at it? I hear thieves can learn various visions through unique qi gong techniques. With such a fine test subject as your minion, you’d pick it up quickly.”

“I’ll consider it.”

“Heh, consider it favorably. If you want, I’ll lend you my lab for free.”

No thanks.

I’d rather study in a bathroom.

I stood up.

“Anyway, tell Bishop Cristiano to wrap up the internal mess quickly. If this keeps up, I can’t work with you guys.”

“Understood. I’ll pass it on.”

I left Guartes’s lab.

Step, step.

I walked through the sewers.

Clatter followed silently.

Something felt off, so I glanced at him.

The vibe was different from usual.

Silent.

Oh, right, he couldn’t talk.

Still, Clatter usually made those click, click jaw noises.

It’s that zombie bastard.

He must’ve stirred Clatter’s competitive streak.

Before heading to the surface, I opened a subspace.

“Get in.”

Clatter stood still.

I sighed.

For the first time, obedient Clatter defied my order.

Clatter was hitting puberty.

“Hoo. Alright, I get how you feel. But now’s not the time.”

Clatter looked up at me.

Without facial skin, I couldn’t read his expression.

“Why?”

Click! Clack!

Clatter suddenly jumped into the waterway, kicking up water wildly.

Filth and muck splashed everywhere.

Splash! Splash!

I saw his frustration in the act.

Could it be?

I used Focused Gaze to check Clatter’s state.

And I saw it.

Cracks like spiderwebs etched into his forearm bones.

They weren’t mere injuries.

They were scratches on Clatter’s pride.

Clatter had lost to that zombie bastard.

* * *

So that’s why he kept glaring.

I finally understood Clatter’s behavior and feelings.

I’d be pissed too.

The Clatter I knew was a natural fighter with a winner’s spirit.

He never backed down, even against higher-tier undead, and always got the job done.

But he’d met his match for the first time.

A strengthened undead, not some ordinary one like himself.

And that zombie hadn’t even spared Clatter a glance.

Complete disregard from start to finish.

No wonder he’s mad.

I turned my steps.

I’d planned to return to the Academy, but I headed to Lunatic instead.

Entering the office, the side door opened, and Luis stepped out.

“Master? What’s up?”

“Oh, Luis. Still awake?”

I sat at the office desk, pulling out a carefully stored Secret Tome.

[Understanding of Death]

It contained basic necromancy knowledge.

“Why that all of a sudden…?”

“Clatter’s hurt.”

I explained what happened to Luis.

He asked, incredulous, “A zombie like that exists?”

“First time I’ve seen one. Couldn’t even sense its presence. Creepy bastard.”

“Guartes’s ability to make such a thing is impressive.”

Clack—Clatter stomped beside us.

“Oh, you’re impressive too, of course.”

Clatter raised his jaw proudly.

“So, found a way to heal Clatter?”

I closed the [Understanding of Death] tome.

“Yeah, but there’s a problem.”

“What?”

“Skeletons can repair damage with Thought Devouring, but there’s no undead around to siphon thoughts from.”

Even if there were, it’d be an issue.

“If you get greedy, it’ll break under the strain.”

I recalled Guartes’s warning.

If Clatter’s body was too saturated to absorb more thoughts, healing wouldn’t work.

I’d be destroying Clatter with my own hands.

Maybe I should’ve gone back to Guartes earlier.

Then Luis had an idea.

“Why not take him to Dayle?”

“Dayle? Why him?”

“He has an Evil Eye, isn’t he?”

I clapped my hands.

“Right! I forgot he has Evil Eye, with all the money he burns through. Let’s go.”

The three of us descended to Dayle’s underground lair.

The liquor storage had become his workshop and residence.

Opening the iron door, I found Dayle engrossed, tinkering under a single light, oblivious to our entry.

“Hey.”

“Oh, boss? You’re here?”

He barely acknowledged us.

I didn’t care anymore.

“Can you heal undead?”

“What kinda nonsense… Gah! What’s with this skeleton?!”

Dayle, looking up, jumped at the sight of Clatter.

“Don’t call him a skeleton, punk. He’s your senior. Say hi. This is Clatter.”

Click!

Clatter extended a hand.

Dayle stared, dumbfounded.

“…My senior?”

“Yup.”

Dayle’s expression screamed whether he really had to accept this as his senior.

“Anyway, can you heal undead or not?”

“How am I supposed to do that?”

“You’re Evil Eye.”

Dayle scowled.

“What, is Evil Eye some god? If you’ve got undead questions, ask a necromancer, not me.”

“Just take a look.”

“Don’t expect much.”

Dayle’s eyes scanned Clatter, then widened.

“…I can see it.”

“See? Why do you underestimate yourself?”

“Ahem.”

After a minute of examining Clatter, Dayle relaxed his gaze.

“Is the injury on the right arm?”

“Yeah.”

“It’ll heal on its own. The death energy’s flowing there.”

Good news.

I nearly had to go back to the Sewer District.

Going wasn’t the issue.

The problem was facing that zombie again.

Clatter won’t hold back next time.

I’d barely calmed him with promises of a future chance to take that zombie down.

If he saw him now, Clatter would charge instantly.

Anyway.

“Did your part, huh?”

I slapped Dayle’s back.

“By the way, that ‘shock-the-world’ thing you’re making—done yet? Why no updates?”

“Heh, just wait. It’s almost ready. Brace yourself…”

“This guy always says the same thing. Be honest, you’re a spy here to siphon our funds.”

Dayle turned away, sulking.

* * *

A bright weekend.

Normally, I’d grab a sword and head to the training hall, but not today.

After my morning routine, I moved quickly.

I washed, donned a crisp white shirt, tied a tie, and slipped into a tailored jacket with horn buttons and creased trousers, finishing with polished shoes.

Not bad.

No joke, it was the best I’d ever looked in a mirror.

“Gotta put in this much effort to look decent.”

I wet my hands, styled my sideburns, and finished prepping.

“Lulu.”

Humming, I opened the window.

A cool breeze and cloudless sky.

Perfect day for an outing.

Today, I’d planned to go into town with Yuria.

We’d eat, wander the city, and browse.

It looked like a casual date, but it had a clear purpose.

She’ll love it.

Thinking of Yuria’s joy at the gift, I finished preparing.

The meeting time approached.

Before leaving, my longsword by the wardrobe caught my eye.

I considered taking it but shook my head.

Nah, let’s just go. What could happen?

I closed the door without regret.

“Senior!”

At the men’s dormitory gate, Yuria rose from a bench, waving.

I jogged to her.

“Wait long?”

“No, I just got here.”

“Wow, nice outfit.”

“Nice? It’s just my old mercenary clothes.”

Yuria eyed my attire.

“Where’s your sword?”

“Left it. Didn’t think I’d need it.”

“Oh! Then I’ll leave mine too!”

A longsword hung at Yuria’s waist.

Of course she’d bring it.

“Nah, keep it. Let’s go, the carriage is leaving.”

We took a carriage from the Academy station to Icata.

We arrived at a slightly late lunchtime.

After a quick meal at a nearby diner, we strolled the streets, exploring the market.

“Look, Yuria! Horse meat skewers! Let’s grab some!”

“Okay!”

“Whoa, that bread smells amazing, Yuria! Let’s check it out!”

“Sounds good, senior!”

Truth be told, I was the most excited.

Yuria, a former mercenary, had traveled widely, but not me.

I spent my days at the Academy, my outings limited to Lunatic or the Sewer District, always at night.

Wandering the lively, bustling streets felt healing, washing away old worries.

Coming out like this is nice sometimes.

A glance at Yuria showed a smile that didn’t fade.

To others, she might seem expressionless, but her slightly upturned lips told me she was thrilled.

“Here we are.”

We reached our destination.

Palton Workshop

Yuria looked at me, her dark eyes questioning.

“Why a workshop?”

I’d only said we were going out, not why.

No fun if I spill it early.

I brushed it off.

“Just to look around?”

“Look around?”

“Yup.”

Ignoring her puzzled tilt, I opened the workshop door.

“Anyone here?”

“Welcome! Palton Workshop!”

The owner greeted us, arms wide.

Hans Palton.

A retired knight, he ran the workshop with his son.

Workshops weren’t just for artisans.

As a knight, Hans had built ties with blacksmiths, alchemists, and mages, using those connections to establish this workshop.

I used this place a lot in Heroes of Frey*.*

His business style was unique.

“Profit less, people more.”

No rip-offs, and the goods were high quality.

Even now, the workshop buzzed with customers.

“Looking for anything specific? Magitech tools on the right, artifacts on the left. Let me know, I’ll find it.”

“We’ll browse for now.”

“Alright, call if you need me!”

Hans, ever polite even to youngsters, turned to another customer.

“Wow, he’s so nice,” Yuria said.

“He’s my senior.”

“Really?”

Her eyes widened.

“Yup.”

Technically, Hans was from a knight school, not my senior, but we shared the same knightly roots protecting the Frey Empire.

“He probably knows who we are.”

“Oh.”

I didn’t miss the glint in Hans’s eyes as he glanced at us.

A retired knight and workshop owner likely subscribed to Royal Dream.

And he’s playing it cool.

I liked him even more.

“Wanna look around?”

“What about you, senior?”

“I’ve got something to find. I’ll be right back.”

Leaving Yuria, I headed to the artifact section.

I was after a bestseller from the subspace series, the Subspace Ring.

Pricey, but compact, lightweight, and stylish, it was a popular artifact.

I planned to give it to Yuria.

A gift offensive.

Like churches handing out gift cards or taekwondo instructors giving toys at school gates.

My “thing” with Ivan was just a misunderstanding, a funny mishap.

But it doesn’t have to stay a misunderstanding, right?

Yuria, having exploded in growth after overcoming her slump, was a treasure I couldn’t let slip.

A bold investment to secure her early was needed.

How much was it?

I checked the price tag.

20G

The word “insane” slipped out.

With my funds, minus bare living expenses, going to Shadow, it was an unthinkable sum.

Good thing I have the spirit stone.

I planned to buy it with the spirit stone from Marquis Wagner.

Using it like this is a waste, but oh well.

I’d initially intended to use it to upgrade Sylph to a mid-tier spirit.

But I reconsidered.

If Sylph becomes mid-tier, the spirit aura I give off will intensify.

Meeting someone like Marquis Wagner, sensitive to spirits, could backfire.

Besides, I’d never felt Sylph lacking.

I hope she likes it.

Thinking of Yuria’s reaction, I looked for Hans to pay.

“Kyaaa!”

A piercing scream tore through the workshop.

What?

No time to think, I ran toward the sound.

There, I found a man, likely a workshop employee, clutching his torn abdomen, crawling on the floor.

A long trail of blood formed a red carpet behind him.

The horrific scene made my brow furrow.

“Hey! What happened?!”

He grabbed my pant leg tightly.

Like a fading candle, his eyes dimmed.

“Ugh… upstairs…”

“Upstairs…?”

His eyes widened suddenly.

He sprang up, staring straight at me.

Return of Light Reflection?

No.

It was a gaze I’d seen recently.

Foul, unsettling Uncanny Eyes.

Graaah──!

His jaw unhinged unnaturally, and he lunged at me.

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