Barbarians Don’t Hold Back

After dealing with the skeletons, I began inscribing “tattoos” on Barkal and Serena to prepare for the battle against the ‘Necromancer’.

There was no place to get new blood, but it didn’t matter. The blood stored in the “Blood-Colored Awl” was more than enough to inscribe tattoos on all three bodies.

“Every time you engrave a tattoo, I feel my connection with Thrag! Thank you, Dmihtan!”

Barkal was grateful at the thought that he could once again be blessed by Thrag.

That’s not a blessing, it’s necromancer magic. I wondered how Barkal would react if I told him the truth.

For now, I never want to find out.

After finishing preparations, I headed for the wagon Jillan had been riding in.

My heart ached at the sight of the brutally fallen Jillan and his companions.

A friend who ended his own life just before becoming undead and gave us a clue about the “Necromancer’s” location.

He helped us, yet there’s nothing I can do in return. So, as a token of gratitude… Huh? A coin pouch? Five gold coins—there’s quite a lot in here.

After moving the five gold coins into my own money pouch, I looked back at Jillan.

I felt a little pang of conscience, but what could I do? It’s an adventurer’s nature to take what’s useful.

“… Is it alright to take the money?”

“Serena, the dead have no use for money.”

“That’s true!”

Serena looked at me with concern. It was a question befitting someone devoted to the path of a ‘cleric’, yet she seemed quickly convinced by my answer.

None of us are normal.

Honestly, I wanted to grab their gear too, but in ‘Dungeon God’, it’s customary not to take the possessions of the dead unless the equipment is of tremendous value.

Out of morality?

If I had any, I wouldn’t have taken the money in the first place.

The gear of the dead often carries a ‘curse’.

That’s why the rule is to only take it if it’s truly rare or valuable.

“He helped us. This is a funeral for him.”

Using the oil they had, I set the wagon on fire.

Partially to prevent them from becoming undead, but cremation seemed the only way to express even a grain of thanks.

“By the way, brother.”

“What is it, Barkal?”

“Why do you burn the bodies?”

You don’t know about cremation?

Barbarians have many funeral customs; cremation surely must be among them.

I explained to him: it was to return their spirits to nature and bring them peace.

“But this is not nature. We are inside a dungeon.”

He was right. This is a dungeon.

“If you burn their bodies here, wouldn’t their souls wander the dungeon instead of returning to nature?”

“Barkal.”

“What is it, brother?”

“This is a funeral. Be quiet.”

Barkal quietly nodded.

* * *

After the funeral for Jillan and his party, we continued deeper into the dungeon, which resembled a forest.

If I remember Jillan’s words, there were stairs going underground near a rotten maple tree. Apparently, that’s where the Necromancer is hiding.

But how do you find a rotten maple tree in a dungeon this large?

We’d been wandering in circles, unable to find our way up until now.

“… Disgusting!”

Barkal began to shudder at the sight of the fallen skeletons.

My summoned “skeleton exoskeleton” is just like those skeletons—why is mine ok, but not theirs?

“Such disgusting magic! Magic that insults the dead! The stench is absolutely revolting!”

“Barkal, brother, I feel the same!”

It seemed Serena was now comfortable calling him ‘brother’.

From her easy manner, she seemed to think their relationship had improved.

But Barkal seemed to be slightly avoiding Serena. Maybe seeing her enjoying herself smashing skeletons put him off.

“… A disgusting stench.”

I took a closer look at a skeleton. Barkal and Serena both said the broken skeletons smelled bad, but I couldn’t smell a thing.

Maybe because I’m a necromancer too? They say people who share the same smell can’t recognize it on each other.

Anyway, how on earth do I find the rotten maple tree…huh?

I approached one of the collapsed skeletons. Looking carefully, I noticed something thread-like.

“Brother! The skeleton could rise again!”

“Calm down, Barkal.”

Barkal fussed, while Serena watched me curiously. I pointed to the “black thread” coming from the skeleton.

“What is that thread?”

“Thread?”

“What thread?”

Neither of them could see the ‘black thread’.

What was this, really?

I touched the ‘black thread’.

* 〈You have acquired the ‘Necromancy Tracking’ trait.〉

Necromancy Tracking [1]

Suddenly, words flashed before my eyes. So this was a necromantic trace.

In ‘Dungeon God’, magic requires a source of energy called ‘mana’.

Necromancy is magic too, so it uses ‘mana’.

Only other necromancers can detect such traces, according to the lore.

“So this is what it looks like.”

I stroked the “black thread” again; the traces of necromancy began to fade. It probably wouldn’t last long.

“This way.”

I told Barkal and Serena to follow me and moved on.

“Where are you going, brother?!”

“The necromancer is ahead.”

If you follow the necromantic traces, finding the necromancer’s location is easy. Thinking that, I kept following the thread.

“Sage Dmihtan! How did you figure it out?!”

I can’t say, “Because I’m a necromancer and can see necromancy traces!”

“The smell!”

“Smell!?”

“That’s right. Necromancers stink!”

“Necromancers really do smell foul.”

Surprise flickered in Barkal’s eyes between the holes of his skull helmet.

“But you can’t normally track someone by smell.”

“Don’t you trust me?”

At my question, Barkal shook his head.

“Brother! I am not smart! So I will follow the sage’s words!”

With Barkal’s doubts settled, we continued tracing the signs of necromancy.

The deeper we went, the thicker the trees became, the dense foliage blocking more and more sunlight.

Eventually, it got so dark that we had to use a lantern, but we kept pushing through the forest.

Strangely, there were no monsters.

As a necromancer, my senses tend to be dull. By contrast, Barkal and Serena (the cleric) had superhuman senses from intense physical training.

Maybe those senses picked something up, because both of them started surveying the area warily.

“It feels like everything’s scared…?”

“Are the monsters afraid of the necromancer?”

“I don’t think so…”

Serena denied Barkal’s suggestion. Monsters are just monsters.

They’re more like beasts; they shouldn’t be so easily cowed.

“There it is.”

At last, we found the rotten maple tree. Just as Jillan said, nearby there were steps leading underground.

But there was a heavy, unsettling air.

The chill was like seeing a cockroach crawling in your kitchen. Even as a fellow necromancer, I found it chilling; I couldn’t imagine what others must feel.

“Finally!”

Maybe Barkal felt it too, because he raised his axe and moved to the forefront.

As we walked down the stairs to the underground, a chilly dungeon prison started coming into view.

At that moment, I remembered Thrag being so agitated.

“Barkal, be careful as you go.”

“I will, brother!”

“Barkal, brother, I can take the lead if you want.”

“This is a trial I must face!”

Barkal said this with a voice filled with determination. Maybe it was related to his family’s death—he seemed emotional.

By the way.

It’s freezing.

Why is it so cold?

I shivered, feeling the cold go beyond chilly to bone-aching.

Hoo.

You could even see my breath—it was the biggest puff I’d ever seen in my life…

“Dmihtan, brother! It’s a specter!”

What?

Startled, Serena pointed at the wall, where a pure white sheet was floating in the air.

A specter.

A floating, ghost-like monster that attacks mentally—an absolute nuisance.

The cold I’d been feeling was from that thing.

“The soul of the dead! Move aside! Otherwise, I’ll kill you again!”

Even barkal’s sharp voice caused no reaction from the specter.

“Be careful, Barkal. That thing curses its targets!”

The specter’s main feature was mental attack—a curse.

I, as a necromancer, could resist to a degree, but others were not so lucky.

“Then I’ll smash it!”

Wait, Barkal!

Even before I could finish the thought, Barkal launched himself at the specter.

Barkal’s axe swung through the air, but it couldn’t touch the specter; he just swung right through it.

“Specters are monsters without a physical form!”

“I don’t understand hard words! Explain simply!”

“Barkal, it means you can’t kill specters.”

Ghost-type monsters like specters can’t be hurt with physical attacks.

To damage “ghost-types,” you must use magic or an item bestowed by a ‘god’.

That’s what makes them so tough.

At my words, Barkal froze on the spot, like he’d been struck by lightning.

― Kiiiiiiaaack!”

Just then, the specter shrieked and lunged at Barkal.

* 〈Using Skeleton Summon.〉

With “skeleton exoskeleton” fortifying my abilities, I promptly slashed at the specter with the ‘Blood-Colored Awl’.

― Kiiiiiiiiyaaaaaro!”

With a hateful scream, the specter turned to dust and vanished.

“Thank you… brother.”

Barkal thanked me, but didn’t look happy.

“I may not be able to kill ghosts, but I’ll do my best to kill other enemies!”

Barkal said, steeling his resolve.

However, the deeper we ventured, the darker Barkal’s expression grew.

More and more ghost-type monsters appeared.

Serena, as a ‘cleric’, wrapped her hands in divine power and grappled the ghosts, but Barkal was no help at all.

Each time, Barkal looked gloomier.

“I am trash.”

“Don’t lose heart, Barkal.”

“Yeah! Brother, you’re always a huge help!”

Despite my and Serena’s encouragement, Barkal’s spirits didn’t recover.

All I could see were his eyes behind the skull helmet, but his emotions were painfully clear.

Cheering up the dispirited Barkal, we finally reached the end of the dungeon prison.

A massive door.

Beyond it, a tremendous energy could be felt.

I began to feel uneasy.

“This isn’t a normal opponent…”

It was certain the necromancer was beyond the door. But my instincts were warning me.

That opening the door was dangerous.

That Thrag had good reason to be alarmed.

Creeeaak──!

Ignoring my worries, Barkal began to throw the door open.

Well, we’d come this far, no turning back. We had two apostles on our side.

Apostles of Thrag and Liberas.

Both are major gods, so their apostles are extremely powerful.

― So, you crushed all those skeletons?

Inside stood a ghastly, corpse-like man with a hideous expression. It was obvious at a glance: he was the necromancer. My instincts told me so.

The necromancer, staff in hand, was writing something on the ground.

I’d never seen those symbols before.

Yet, strangely, I could “read” them.

― Within this dungeon, our god resides. You ignorant outsiders, stepping with muddy feet—…

CRACK.

A sound of something shattering.

The direction was where the necromancer had been writing.

The source was Barkal’s axe.

As soon as Barkal saw the necromancer, he hurled his axe and buried it in the necromancer’s head.

“Kahahahahah! Hahahaha!”

Maniacal laughter spilled from behind Barkal’s skull helmet.

“Brother! Wasn’t I helpful too?!”

————-= Clacky’s Corner ————-=

Usually, necromancers have phylactery.

Also, I like that although Barkal is simple-minded most of the time, he sometimes make MC lost for words with his logic…

【ദ്ദി(⩌ᴗ⩌)】

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