Running Away Because I’m a Necromancer

Holy water.

It is said that this water, imbued with divine power, has effects akin to a miracle elixir.

First, it acts as an antioxidant.

By taking it or drinking it, it supposedly slows aging, or something like that.

At the same time, it is said to greatly aid in healing wounds.

The blessings of the “benevolent gods” have a strong influence on regeneration, and they “purify” dirty things.

And, when it comes to this category of “purification,”

I can say that it includes various things.

Dirty things.

Ugly things.

The things that use necromancy.

Necromancer.

That’s right. Refined “holy water” will even purify necromancers.

Supposedly, the moment it touches their skin, it acts like hydrochloric acid, melting and causing intense pain.

And I’m supposed to clean my body with such “holy water”?

Are they telling me to die?

“Hm.”

No,

Maybe I’m just overreacting.

During my time playing “Dungeon God”,

I never saw a necromancer or devil who died from “holy water.”

In other words, maybe being this scared of “holy water” is just an overreaction.

Really, giving up my pension and support just because of something uncertain would be a dumb move.

“Please don’t worry too much. There will be a rehearsal, so you don’t have to be so nervous.”

The guild staff apparently thought my hesitation was because of nerves over the medal award ceremony.

But, there’s a rehearsal for the medal ceremony?

That means I’ll have a chance to test out any dangers of “holy water.”

“When can I do it?”

At my question, the staff began looking through a notebook. Not long after, finding the section with the rehearsal time, they responded.

“If you’d like, it can be as early as this afternoon.”

In that case, sooner is better.

I let the staff know that I was free this afternoon, so there was no problem doing a rehearsal.

Hearing that, the guy gave a polite bow and left.

“Brother, what will you do?”

Barkal asked, and I nodded.

Of course I have to participate.

“They even do rehearsals for big events like the medal ceremony!”

Serena seemed very excited about the medal award ceremony.

“Of course. The royal family is involved, so mistakes absolutely can’t happen.”

Miriam didn’t seem to like crowded places.

But, how long are you going to keep following me? You’re not even a “Dungeon God” staffer.

Either way, I’m a bit looking forward to the rehearsal.

To be precise, I’m looking forward to the rewards and support after finishing that medal ceremony.

Holy water?

Come on, could they really purify a “necromancer” class?

Even if it hurts, I’ll just endure it.

* * *

“Kuaaaaaaagh!!”

Medal ceremony rehearsal.

The moment my body touched the prepared holy water, a ridiculously burning sensation flooded through my body.

“Huff, huff…”

I stared at the water bottle before me. The bottle containing “holy water.”

I’ll die.

The moment I immerse my body in this, I’m dead.

That thought filled my mind.

“Brother, what’s wrong?”

Perhaps hearing my howl, Barkal, who had been waiting outside the waiting room, came in.

I hastily answered.

“It’s nothing.”

“I definitely heard the squealing of a pig coming from in here!”

Where are you hiding, pig!

Barkal looked around as he said that.

“Really, it’s nothing.”

I barely managed to send the guy back out.

After that, I looked at the finger I’d dipped in the holy water bottle.

The skin was bright red, as if it had suffered a burn.

Holy water, was it really this effective? With something this potent, couldn’t you just pour holy water to identify who the necromancer is?

That thought came to mind, but now that I considered it, that wouldn’t work.

“Holy water” can only demonstrate its full effect in regions blessed by the benevolent gods.

If you go even a little beyond that, the effect is reduced to a fraction of a fraction, so you’d never find a necromancer this way.

Still.

“I almost died.”

Did they say you’re supposed to pour or immerse yourself in this water during the medal ceremony?

Absolutely not.

I’d ascend on the spot and be reduced to ashes.

The fact that I have to live like this… Sometimes I really resent my past self who used to post about necromancer being an OP class.

“What should I do about the medal ceremony?”

Muttering to myself, I tightly shut my eyes, but honestly, the answer was already clear.

Give up the support, and give up the medal ceremony.

It’s practically a life-or-death decision.

Even if I survive plunging into “holy water,” people will witness that sight.

It’s only natural that they’d notice something strange. So, there’s really no choice for me to attend the ceremony.

“I’m not going to participate in the medal ceremony.”

They say you should strike while the iron is hot. I immediately called for the Adventurer’s Guild staffer of Belhaim and told them.

“Y-yes?”

The staffer’s eyes went wide with shock, their mouth opening and closing.

“I said I refuse the medal.”

“A-are you perhaps dissatisfied with the ceremony in some way?”

Trying hard to stay calm, the staffer asked. They probably thought I was unhappy with the formality or procedure.

“I understand your concerns about the holy water. There’s not much that’s clearly known about it… well, as a religious item…”

At the staffer’s words, I briefly wondered.

Holy water.

Is it possible to omit it?

“But, due to the relationship between the Kerval Kingdom, Hyrat, and the faithful of Creana, I’m afraid that’s not possible.”

No, it seems not.

“Still, please don’t worry. Since the royal family is directly hosting, I assure you it will go perfectly.”

“That’s not the problem.”

“Then is there a scheduling conflict?”

With a desperate look, the staffer asked. They seemed to believe this would be a failure on their part if I refused.

“No problem with the schedule either.”

“Then what’s your exact reason…”

The staffer stepped closer. Sweat was already beading on their forehead.

It seemed my refusal had gone past the point of surprise and into resignation.

“Dmihtan, this medal is more than just an honor. It’s the official recognition of the Kerval royal family and will significantly help your future activities as an adventurer. Not just support, but…”

“Still, I’ve changed my mind.”

When I coldly cut him off, the staffer fell silent. But in their eyes, I could still see the spark of persuasion.

“Why are you so intent on refusing the medal?”

Why?

Because I’ll die!

If I immerse my body in holy water or let them pour it over me, I’m dead!

“There’s still time before the ceremony. If you’d just reconsider…”

I don’t want to give up, either. If I could reconsider, I would.

“I’ve nothing more to say.”

My words made the staffer’s lips tremble. But unlike earlier, my firm tone convinced them that persuasion was truly impossible, and they simply lowered their head.

* * *

Belhaim Adventurer’s Guildmaster’s office.

Alona let out a sigh as she listened to the report from her secretary.

On the desk was the final list for the medal ceremony—and one blank spot.

“Dmihtan Elvar refused?”

At Alona’s question, the secretary nodded.

“Yes, guildmaster. However…”

Under Alona’s sharp gaze, the secretary flinched.

“However?”

“Dmihtan didn’t give a concrete reason.”

“He didn’t give a reason?”

“No.”

Alona’s eyes narrowed.

She began tapping her fingers on the desk.

Tap, tap, tap. The rhythmic sound filled her office, and the secretary unconsciously tensed with every tap.

“He didn’t give a reason, huh.”

As the newly appointed guildmaster of Belhaim, this medal ceremony is crucial for her.

If this event, which the royal family directly involves itself in, succeeds, it would raise the guild’s status and cement her position.

And yet, there’s no lead character.

And without a clear reason.

“What exactly did Dmihtan say? Word for word.”

In response, the secretary said,

“He just said, ‘I have nothing more to say. My decision will not change.'”

His decision will not change.

“A staff member who spoke with him directly said he was very firm…”

Listening, alona brushed back her green hair as she fell into thought.

Her hair shimmered gently under the office lights.

Her mind worked quickly.

She tried to read something from the bad news labeled “Dmihtan’s refusal.”

Resolute.

Refusing discussion.

Alona knew that type of line was often a lie.

‘Could it be… he wants something more?’

Alona’s eyes sparkled.

“How much was the support?”

“Support fund, Ma’am?”

“Yes.”

“With the medal, it’s 100 gold coins a year and…”

As the secretary recited the benefits, alona closed her eyes.

They were substantial. For an average adventurer party, these benefits would be dizzyingly generous.

And yet, he still had the resolve to refuse. Or, more precisely—

“So, he’s saying money can’t sway him.”

Barbarians live and die for honor. Dmihtan Elvar is a bit different from typical “barbarians”, but he’s still a barbarian.

Alona began to feel slightly embarrassed at the fact she’d tried to use money to sway someone like that.

“There are still adventurers like this.”

She had intended to use “Dungeon God” and Dmihtan to solidify her own standing; thinking of that, alona felt somewhat ashamed.

Then, it just means she has to change her approach.

If the reason he refused the medal ceremony was “honor”, then she’d just have to create a position that suited his honor.

—

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep