Even If You Insult Him, Let Me Do It!

Good, let’s give it to Thrag.

No matter how much I dislike being a ‘Necromancer’, wouldn’t bestowing an item of this grade raise my faith level?

It’s a godly artifact, no less. It wouldn’t be surprising if my level of divinity jumped a tier with this.

* 〈Faith Level: 3 [Thrag’s Missionary]〉

Having checked my current “faith level”, I was filled with anticipation.

Honestly, if I offer this as a sacrifice, the least he could do is grant me one more authority. Or is that only for mortals? Well, whatever.

“Is the ritual circle reacting to the orb?”

Serena, who had been watching the orb and the ritual circle react right next to me, must have realized her involvement and asked.

“That’s right.”

“Don’t tell me—the reason Necromancers went around drawing ritual circles like these…?”

“More precisely, it’s the followers of Mortis. Her followers seem to be searching for this.”

I put the orb I had been holding into my pocket. The orb and the ritual circle, which had been glowing as if resonating, slowly lost their light.

“A-amazing. There was something like this in Lord Lormond’s tomb? That can’t mean he was a Necromancer himself, right?”

I’d thought the same thing back in Lormond’s tomb. I guess it’s inevitable everyone makes that connection.

“His blood relative Edmund said he was not. Only the man himself would know the truth.”

Besides—

“Even if he were a Necromancer, he’s already dead.”

There’s really no need to investigate further. Lormond, that fellow, is already dead and buried.

《Dungeon God》 may be a game based on fantasy, but it upholds at least one absolute truth.

Perfectly resurrecting the dead is impossible.

You could get zombies or skeletons, but bringing someone back with all their memories intact? Impossible.

The only close exception might be becoming a lich through magic like “undead transformation” — but we saw the body with our own eyes.

“Th-that’s true.”

Serena nodded.

“But, brother Dmihtan.”

“What is it?”

“What kind of god is Mortis, anyway?”

Well, the god of Necromancers, that’s what. I was about to say that, but stopped and started piecing together my thoughts.

A major evil god. The god of necromancy.

I’d heard that much, but as for the doctrine Mortis actually declared—I had never heard of any.

“Even though she’s an evil god, I’ve never seen her do anything to increase her followers. I’ve never seen a cult for her in any dungeon, either.”

That’s true.

For most gods, increasing their followers is their top priority, scattering cults all over dungeons.

But I’d never seen a cult for “Mortis”.

“Maybe she’s actually a very timid god?”

I wanted to laugh at Serena’s impression, but it actually made some sense.

Thrag and Mortis.

Having witnessed those two fight firsthand, I could say Mortis was on the receiving end of a one-sided beating.

There’s no way I could explain that, though.

“Wait a moment.”

While I was struggling to come up with an explanation, Serena quietly stepped up to block my way.

Only then did I begin to sense someone approaching from across the way.

As expected, these instinctive senses really are better in melee classes. Wait—come to think of it, Serena isn’t a melee class.

“Hm?”

Thankfully, the presence was not a monster. In hindsight, that was obvious.

After our sweep, the ratmen would’ve all fled deep into the sewers.

“Aren’t you the Barbarian from the Dungeon God adventurer party?”

Making their appearance opposite us was a pair of a woman and a man in heavy armor.

Not knights—there was an adventurer’s air about them.

They looked familiar. Ah, these guys! They’re the adventurers we met earlier.

“Didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Same here.”

Were they called “Judges of Light” or something? Even now, the name sounds grandiose—they’re probably a “Gold-ranked adventurer party,” as I recall.

The woman addressing us was the one who’d been by “Balder”, the leader’s side, when I first met the “Judges of Light”.

I didn’t know her name.

“I just realized, although I exchanged words with Leader Balder, I never introduced myself to you. I’m Rowen. Remember the name, barbarian.”

Rowen spoke in a brusque tone, and the way she glanced at me really got on my nerves.

Does she dislike Barbarians? Does she have to make it so obvious?

“Brother Dmihtan, do you know them?”

Serena asked beside me. I shook my head.

“We’re not acquaintances. We just exchanged a few words.”

I wouldn’t call us acquaintances. You don’t become close with someone just because you exchanged words with some random missionary on the street.

Serena narrowed her eyes at Rowen for a moment. Sensing her gaze, Rowen glanced back.

“It’s not the same big Barbarian I saw last time. Is she your companion?”

I nodded. Then, as if introducing herself, Balder approached Serena and extended a hand.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Rowen, a servant of Hyrat, the God of Judgement and Virtue. I’m a gold-ranked adventurer.”

Serena gave a smiling nod and accepted Rowen’s handshake.

“N-nice to meet you. I’m Serebrina, a servant of Liberas, Goddess of Love and Virtue.”

For a moment, I wondered who Serebrina was—turns out Serena’s full name was Serebrina.

“Oh, a follower of Liberas? No wonder you seem so refined for someone on the battlefield.”

“What kind of battlefield values refinement?”

Serena replied, forcing a smile, her voice echoing through the underground waterways.

What’s up with these two? They’re both followers of benevolent gods; shouldn’t they get along?

Maybe it’s just my imagination.

Or so I thought, until I saw their clasped hands trembling slightly.

Now that I look, their handshake is actually a contest of grip strength.

“U-ugh…!”

“Heh, hehehe!”

Should I be relieved, or not? Serena started to overwhelm Rowen in their grip contest.

She’s not winning with pure strength; it’s not like she’s using a “Strength Blessing” buff.

Pure technique—Serena overpowered Rowen.

Fine, if both of you want to be weird, then Serena, at least be the weird one who wins.

“Are you okay?”

As Rowen bowed her head in agony, Serena gazed down at her with a smug smile.

I read the emotion in Serena’s eyes at that moment—an unspoken declaration: “I’m on a different level than a rookie like you.”

“I haven’t heard your reason for being here.”

As Rowen looked to challenge Serena, I cut in and redirected her attention.

“A-hem.”

Red-faced with embarrassment, Rowen cleared her throat and spoke.

“I heard a Necromancer was killed here, so we came to check.”

Because of the Necromancer? Not the underground dungeon?

“We had already taken another job when the dungeon appeared underground.”

Seeing my expression, Rowen must’ve realized what I was thinking, and answered.

So they were on a different quest. Now that I think of it, Blaz did say there were no gold-ranked adventurers in Iushil.

“This is strange, though.”

“What is?”

“Doesn’t it feel like Necromancers have been appearing more often lately?”

I thought to myself, ‘There’s one right in front of you, you idiot,’ but didn’t say it aloud. No need to make things complicated.

“I think so as well.”

“It’s a bad omen. Scum like that should be rooted out before they even show their faces.”

Rowen frowned hard and looked at me.

“Did you find out anything here?”

“No.”

You shouldn’t expect to get something for nothing, pal.

Besides, I’d rather not get involved with “Hyrat’s followers.”

They’re looking for Necromancers like those from ‘Dark Shade’, but their fanaticism is on another level.

Dark Shade targets only “Necromancers.”

Hyrat targets “Necromancers,” too.

Get entangled with them, and if your secret is revealed, it’s not unlikely you’d get torn limb from limb for all to see.

Besides, she doesn’t even have manners. Balder, their leader, seemed rather gentlemanly.

“I’m not asking for free.”

Not for free? She’s saying she’d give me something if I told her?

That’s a little tempting. The Hyrat Order is a sizable religion.

One of those so-called “majors.”

“A cardinal is coming to Iushil soon. I’ll ask them to bestow a baptism upon—”

“No need.”

I flat out refused, appalled.

I’ve run into a lot of missionaries before, but this one’s the real deal.

Do it yourself. Oh wait, she already has.

There was nothing left to say, so I walked past Rowen.

“Wait.”

Now what?

“What’s that you’re hiding?”

Hiding?

As I looked down at Rowen’s words, I saw a faint red glow leaking from inside my clothes.

The same glow as earlier, when I approached the ritual circle.

What’s wrong with this thing now!?

“Trying to hide something? Did you get it from the Necromancer?”

Rowen began approaching slowly, her gaze sharp as a blade.

That look—that anything taken from the Necromancer belongs to her by right.

If she really is Hyrat’s agent, she’d realize what “Right Eye of the Ascended Maiden” is in an instant.

How troublesome.

I reached my hand inside my coat. What met my hand wasn’t a gemstone, but the hilt of the ‘Blood-Colored Awl’.

“This.”

When I pulled out the “Blood-Colored Awl” to show her, Rowen looked confused.

“This dagger doesn’t emit any light.”

Even to me, the “Blood-Colored Awl” doesn’t glow. If anything, it looks quite crude.

“Look closely.”

I gestured for her to take a closer look at the ‘Blood-Colored Awl’.

Rowen, half in doubt, slowly leaned in closer to it.

“I told you, there’s no light… Kyaaaa!”

As she brought her face close, I released blood from the ‘Blood-Colored Awl’.

Blood splattered everywhere along the blade, drenching Rowen’s face in crimson.

“Cough, cough—! What the—? This is blood!”

“This is the blessing bestowed upon us by our god, Thrag.”

“Blessing!? This!?”

“That’s right. His blessing is imbued in this dagger.”

Rowen was bleeding from her eyes, nose, and mouth—quite a sight, and I couldn’t help but chuckle.

Serena was the same.

“Ptui! Ptui! Is this what you call a blessing? What a moronic god!”

“How dare you insult my god Thrag, Rowen! That I cannot abide!”

“W-what…!?”

“I have tried to respect you until now, but you are exceedingly rude!”

How dare you insult Thrag?!

Insulting the god I serve—Thrag?

“Thrag is a great god!”

* 〈Thrag sends you applause.〉

“The patron god of the Red Wolf tribe! God of Struggle!”

* 〈Thrag smiles at you.〉

“He’s a petty, narrow-minded god!”

* 〈Thrag tilts his head.〉

“An id-I-ot!”

* 〈Thrag frowns.〉

“He’s always telling people to go to dungeons! Always demanding sacrifices! There’s never been a brat like this brat!”

The more I spoke, the more my chest tightened for some reason. There were so many grudges I had against Thrag.

“Look! Even when he’s insulted to this extent, he can’t say anything back! He’s that petty! And you dare to insult my god!?”

“You—you said it was your god. Why are you angry at me…!?”

“I am the only one who can insult my god.”

I tucked the “Blood-Colored Awl” back into my coat.

“There won’t be a next time.”

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep