Oh Right, I’m a Necromancer

Sunlight poured in through the window. Blinking drowsily, I barely managed to turn my gaze outside and caught sight of the sun rising sluggishly over the horizon.

I had fallen so deeply into sleep that a new morning had already greeted me.

“Haaa—yawn.”

A good bed really does make a difference. As I stretched, sunlight began to creep over the window and peek into my room.

A gentle orange glow, like a dimming ember, shone through the window, and the light slowly spread.

Wooden frames inlaid with gold. Ornaments carved with intricate details cast shadows and came to life in three dimensions.

At the same time, pure golden rays began to cover the floor of my room.

Seeing the sharp boundary between darkness and light, as if cut by a knife, I couldn’t help but admire it.

The decorations placed around the room weren’t just for atmosphere. They were arranged to create a work of art with the rising sunlight.

I thought to myself in awe at this impressive sight.

Money really is the best.

If you throw around enough cash, you can make things like this possible.

“Are you sure that person is on this floor?”

Maybe I should sleep a little more—I was just about to lie back down when I heard voices out in the hallway.

This Inn really doesn’t live up to its price when it comes to soundproofing.

“Yes, the most luxurious single room is right below the VIP suite.”

A woman’s voice. Someone answered. From the polite tone, the person asking if this was the right floor sounded like a noble.

“So it’s true—the hero who saved Belhaim is here?”

The hero who saved Belhaim?

Who’s that supposed to be?

Hearing them whisper, I was lost in thought for a moment.

There’s only one guy who comes to mind when I hear the word ‘hero’.

Leonhart, commander of the Golden Wind.

If it weren’t for him, we definitely would’ve had trouble killing the Medusa, the master of the dungeon.

“Do you think we might get to meet him?”

“That would be wonderful…”

Leonhart sure is popular.

But still, why are they whispering right outside someone else’s door?

As I listened, I figured it out. The soundproofing of this deluxe single wasn’t great—though, judging by the volume, these voices sounded very close indeed.

Which meant they were right by the door.

Noble or not, I should drive them off. I didn’t want my comfort disrupted. With that in mind, I got out of bed and walked to the door.

“Huh, wha—?”

Opening the door, I realized instantly that there wasn’t just one or two people whispering.

Now that I looked, this single was actually well-insulated after all. There were at least a dozen people gathered in the corridor.

People dressed in fancy clothes. Well-groomed, with women wearing gown-like dresses. Clearly, most of them were nobles.

As soon as I opened the door, the noise in the hallway stopped. Every eye turned to me at once.

“Ah.”

A noblewoman let out a small gasp. In that moment, the corridor buzzed again.

“That’s him…”

Someone murmured.

“Dmihtan?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

What the hell?

Don’t tell me all these people are here to see me—not Golden Wind?

“He’s the commander of Dungeon God, the adventurer party that conquered the Lagmor Mountain dungeon.”

A man who looked like Inn staff spoke, and silence fell over the group.

A short but meaningful silence. Then, the evaluations started coming from the nobles.

“Hm…not what I expected…”

“Isn’t that right? I thought so too.”

The nobles trailed off. What was ‘not what they expected’, these snobs?

“I thought a hero would look flashier.”

“Exactly.”

“And isn’t he supposed to be a barbarian? I thought he’d be more muscular. I like them that way.”

“He looks too ordinary.”

As one person commented, the murmuring grew louder.

“No, he’s not ordinary. Look! He has a different look in his eyes!”

A noblewoman spoke up.

“Yes, those are eyes that have witnessed death.”

With those words, the nobles’ eyes narrowed.

“Puhaha!”

Listening to their serious conversation, I burst out laughing.

Not because it was funny, but because it was absurd.

Nobles, dressed in expensive gowns, living safely in splendid mansions.

And they spoke as if they understood death.

I haven’t had that many experiences myself, but to hear these hothouse flowers speak of ‘witnessing death’—all I could do was laugh.

“That smile suits him much better.”

“Exactly.”

“He almost looks like a real hero now.”

“Still too little muscle, though.”

One remark after another.

But why are these nobles gathered outside my door, anyway?

I wanted to ask why but recognized none of their faces.

“Brother!!”

Just as I was at a loss, not wanting to shove nobles aside, I heard a booming voice from down the hall.

“Can it be—so many here as well!”

When Barkal appeared in the corridor, all the noblewomen’s attention shifted to him.

“Oh!”

A noblewoman opened her mouth in surprise.

A muscular body and a massive physique.

Scarred arms and a skull helmet.

Anyone could see Barkal was not ordinary; he must have made a strong impression.

“Now that’s what a hero should look like!”

“Yes, yes.”

Watching the nobles nod at Barkal, I frowned.

Maybe this is how animals in the zoo feel.

Still, since Barkal had arrived, I figured I’d get the details from him.

“Barkal.”

“What is it, brother!”

I spoke to him, grabbing Blood-Colored Awl and my leather armor.

“I’ll be out again. Try not to rough things up too much.”

I told him as I stepped back inside to fetch my things.

“Kyaaah!”

“Wha—what are you doing?!”

“Soft flesh, make way!”

Behind me, I could hear the nobles’ startled voices and Barkal creating chaos.

* * *

As expected, leaving things to Barkal, the situation was resolved quickly.

Once I had gathered my things and came out, I saw that the nobles had been neatly moved next door.

When I emerged, Barkal followed close behind as if he’d been waiting.

“Barkal, my brother. Do you know why those people were waiting for me?”

“Hm.”

At my question, he let out a short sigh. Stroking ‘Erindal’ slung over his back, he answered.

“Serena will tell you!”

After much thought, all he said was ‘Serena will tell you.’

When I heard that, I sense Barkal’s personal growth.

You can’t trust your own words.

Barkal must have reached that conclusion after much consideration.

Serena and Miriam.

Finding them was easy. I went down to the lobby, looked around, and they soon found us.

“Hm?”

But someone else was trailing behind as well. First time seeing him. Who could it be?

“Pleased to meet you, commander Dmihtan Elvar of Dungeon God.”

A man introduced himself. When I didn’t respond, he gave an awkward laugh.

“Your caution is understandable, of course. I’m a Belhaim Adventurer’s Guild officer.”

The man from the Adventurer’s Guild explained his reason for seeking me out.

Among the adventurers who conquered the Lagmor Mountain dungeon, Dungeon God now had the highest renown.

Because of that, the commander of ‘Dungeon God’ was now being called a ‘hero’, and would be awarded a medal in a ceremony.

“So that’s why the nobles were gathered at the entrance.”

Nobles exchanged information quickly through their social clubs, so they would’ve heard the rumors faster than anyone.

That must have piqued their interest and brought them here to see me.

But really—so what?

What good is getting a medal? Unless it’s pure gold, I can’t imagine there are any benefits.

“They call it the ‘Hero’s Medal’!”

Unlike me, Serena looked genuinely surprised.

“Now the world will really get to know Dungeon God even better!”

Really get to know us, huh.

Well, that doesn’t sound so bad.

After all, the reason I picked ‘Dungeon God’ for our party name was so that more ‘Players’ would be drawn to us.

“Plus, I hear that adventurer parties who receive the Hero’s Medal are given priority on commissions, exemptions from public facility fees, legal privileges, and even annual financial support!”

Serena rattled off the perks of the medal rapid-fire.

She sounded just like those noblewomen from the social club upstairs, listing all the info she’d picked up.

Right, she really is a noble. She’s even good at the kind of dances they do at those balls.

Wait a minute.

“Financial support?”

I asked, and she nodded. Then, the guild officer interjected.

“Yes, once a party earns a Hero’s Medal, the guild provides an annual financial reorganization support!”

“How much?”

“Well…”

The guild officer came closer and whispered in my ear. Not that I cared if the others heard.

“It’s about 100 gold coins.”

“When is the medal ceremony?”

I abruptly asked about the medal ceremony date, and the officer looked at me in surprise.

No wonder—just a minute ago, I was looking unimpressed, but now I was interested.

“Ah, um, probably in five days, at 10am. It’ll be in the grand hall of the royal palace.”

The officer said, opening his documents.

“Would you like me to briefly explain the process?”

When I nodded, he continued.

It was simple.

Arrive two hours early, at 8am, and change clothes before the 10am start of the medal ceremony.

You have to wear a red cape—that’s the kingdom’s symbol.

Then the ceremony itself.

A prince of Kerval will come in person to present the medal.

Afterward, there’s a blessing from two benevolent gods:

The God of Judgement and Virtue, Hyrat,

and the God of Freedom and Good, Creana.

You have to immerse yourself in holy water blessed by them, and then, recognized by the royal family, you’ll be given the medal to wear around your neck.

“Holy water?”

Had I misheard?

I asked, and the officer nodded.

“Yes, holy water.”

He answered as if it were the most obvious thing.

I hadn’t misheard.

They expected me—a necromancer—to immerse myself in holy water.

What’s this?

A roundabout way of telling me to drop dead?

—

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep