Chapter 332 - Invitation (3)
The term abnormal species refers literally to beings that are alien, a classification for those unlike the norm.
They are generally perceived as monsters beyond common sense and understanding, though a few individuals possess intelligence, sometimes even being able to converse or coexist with humans.
Like Blue, the spirit accompanying Perne, according to the informant.
Among them, the Undead are the most representative and inclusive of the abnormal species.
Creatures born from corpses, malice, and emotions, a paradoxical life born within death.
They carry an intense hatred for the living.
They are also sometimes commanded by the black magic that is the mystery of death, and those Undead born from black magicians possess a deep loyalty to their creator.
They are diverse.
As varied as the causes of death themselves.
Step... step...
The dead draw near.
An ominous aura flowed from their lifeless bodies.
Sensing it, the demi-humans and beasts swiftly fled, while the plants and trees with weaker life force could not endure, their leaves and roots withering in place.
The winter forest blackened.
'Roughly a few hundred, perhaps.'
The miasma was thick.
From the way they seemed intent on encircling the village, they were not natural-born entities.
Had they been, the moment they sensed life they would have lunged without hesitation.
That they could wait meant there was at least some chain of command.
"As you said, it seems they are not here for a sudden ambush."
Though there were a few other kinds of creatures present, none strong enough to threaten Archbishop Joseph and the paladins.
And then it was felt.
Within the aura of the Undead, concealed, was the magic power of a black magician.
Despite the distance, Verden's insight pierced through the situation, and Archbishop Joseph nodded.
"As expected, you have changed greatly since last we met. It has been only half a year."
"Time flows differently for each of us, does it not?"
"To you, the past months must have been long and dense indeed. I wonder, what experiences have you gone through? Your presence feels not merely changed, but as if you have become an entirely different person..."
In Joseph's eyes gleamed intuition.
The man beside him now could not be compared to the past.
No longer the reckless young mage who once challenged the Transcendent tower master of DarkWarton, attempting to endure a being of transcendence with insufficient skill.
His level could not be gauged.
Which meant, the magical height he had built now nearly rivaled that of Joseph himself, an archbishop.
'No, perhaps even surpasses it.'
It was growth beyond comprehension.
Suddenly, he recalled the words spoken with the Necromancer in the carriage.
───Soon, a new transcendent of magic will be born.
It was the insight of a Transcendent, so he had remembered vividly, but never did he imagine he would realize those words so soon.
To meet him here, was it truly the guidance of Light? Or a circumstance unforeseen even by the world itself?
Unless he asked the goddess Luas directly, there would be no way to know for sure.
But Joseph believed.
That the light of the goddess guiding the world pointed toward humanity's future.
To pray for that radiance, to follow it, was the duty of the archbishop, no, of every believer.
Even now.
"Paladin, Shane."
"Yes, Archbishop."
"Open the village gates."
Though the Undead surrounded the village, he ordered the gates opened.
Yet no one questioned it.
Shane drew the sword engraved with the symbol of the Luas Church.
It was the zweihander strapped diagonally to his back, a blade towering over a grown man's height, which he raised and slashed downward.
Whooong.
A blade of light formed from holy power.
It struck precisely, shattering the thick wooden planks barring the main gate, cutting through the seams.
Meanwhile, priests and holy knights took their positions, forming formation.
Adrian stood by Verden's side, while Leira raised her sword to guard Bishop Lena.
Creak...
The gate slowly opened.
In the pupils of the Undead standing outside, blue flames ignited.
Footsteps echoed, as the horde of the dead parted to the sides.
But it was not the black magician of the Glory of the Dead who revealed himself.
Instead, it was a child, no older than ten.
[Aaah... ah...]
Naturally, it was not alive.
From the rotting flesh, it was evident the child had become a Zombie.
Step... step...
The Zombie advanced with small, sluggish strides.
Crossing the village boundary with its characteristic slow gait, it came face to face with Verden and Joseph at a distance.
And then.
Boom.
The Zombie pointing at Joseph burst apart.
The explosion was so small it needed no defense.
Black blood soaked the ground, rotten flesh scattered.
What did it mean?
It was simple.
A provocation, a mockery directed at the Church of Luas.
"...It seems the black magician who has come here wishes for me to step outside the village."
"I will capture him immediately."
Paladin Railver leaned forward.
With his massive shield and mace, a halo of light emerged around him.
But he did not step outside the village.
"I will go."
Verden stepped forward.
All eyes turned to him, Joseph included.
"Asher, you will go... may I ask why?"
"There is no reason to waste time."
Which meant, he could capture the black magician faster than a paladin could.
Just as Railver and Shane were about to object, Joseph spoke first.
"Very well. Then I leave it to you."
Verden nodded, summoning Orient.
In an instant, he soared into the sky, shooting off toward the far side of the forest.
"In the meantime, while Asher is away, we too must act."
Joseph clasped his hands behind his back.
Facing the pitiful dead who stared at him, he declared firmly.
"Purify the death."
[Aaaaarghhh!]
The horde of Undead screamed as they charged.
In response, the Luas Church, Adrian, and Leira moved.
***
Unless one borrowed the power of a magic circle or special magical artifact,most magicians could not escape Verden's senses, heightened by his realm and his
Tap.
Verden landed upon the ground.
The forest was polluted with death.
Undead swarmed everywhere.
Among them, higher beings exuded their hatred.
[...]
Three Liches, capable of wielding magic.
Different from those he had encountered before, it seemed they were some variant of Lich.
Ignoring them, he raised his gaze.
Someone stood atop a bare branch, its leaves long gone.
"Hm? I thought a paladin or holy knight would come, but instead a mage has arrived."
The black magician, ragged in appearance.
From the magic power he emanated, his level was that of a 4th-tier middle rank.
"Glory of the Dead, are you?"
"Oh, you know the name? Then you must have deep ties with the Luas Church. No need to summon any other clergy. I have come bearing an order from the Fourth Servant, to deliver a message to your archbishop—"
The black magician rummaged in his robes as he spoke, with an air of leisure.
He was relaxed.
Dozens of Undead at his command, three variant Liches capable of 4th-tier spells, and an escape plan prepared while the dead bought him time.
Even should a paladin arrive, he believed his life secure.
But he overlooked two things.
First, Verden's strength.
Second, that there was never any room for negotiation.
It was confirmed, he was part of the Glory of the Dead.
At once, Verden activated his mana circuits, opened his Mado, and his Mystic Eye flashed.
Gravitational pull.
Ordinarily, resistance to magic meant one could not forcibly drag a living being directly.
But if he pulled at the very space itself, the story was different.
"What the... ugh?!"
The black magician sensed something strange, but reacting was meaningless.
According to Verden's will, the black magician bound by space was dragged forward.
The variant Liches behind him cast ice-element spells, but there was no need to even bother blocking them.
With that level of power, they could not so much as scratch [Ainber].
The black magician rapidly drew closer.
Staring at him, Verden swung Orient.
Craaaash!
The impact pierced through his abdomen.
The black magician's eyes and mouth tore open as if they would split, before he was slammed into the ground.
Though Verden had moderated his strength with the intent of capturing him alive, it was still far too much for the frail body of a black magician to endure.
"Gghhk... gkek...!"
His breathing twisted.
The breath surging up from within burst outward uncontrollably.
Above that, Orient descended.
A strike to the face.
The moment after feeling the dull pain, the black magician's consciousness was entirely blown away.
Of course, he did not die.
He still breathed, albeit faintly.
'With this, the black magician is secured.'
His magic-infused blue eyes turned to the surroundings.
[Aaaarghhhh!]
[Keeeeeek!]
With their commander attacked, the Undead immediately surged forward.
The Liches, realizing their spells had no effect, began calculating far stronger magic.
Overall, the numbers were quite large.
In the past, back when he had faced a 3rd-tier foe like the Wailing Knight, he might have struggled somewhat, but now…
'They're small fry.'
Verden slammed his staff to the ground.
Flames erupted from the earth, spreading in every direction.
6th-tier focused spell.
Fwoooooosh!
Vast scarlet flames roared up, engulfing the dead forest and the Undead all at once.
***
Holy power was the weakness of the Undead and Demons.
For priests and holy knights wielding it, they were nothing short of natural enemies to the dark.
"O Luas!"
Holy light rained down upon the Undead.
Skeletons and Zombies unable to withstand it vanished on the spot.
Those that resisted were cut down directly by the holy knights.
Crunch! Crack!
It was nothing less than a one-sided hunt.
There was no need for the archbishop to act personally.
Especially here, where numbers meant nothing against the gathered faithful.
Just then, one of the distant Liches aimed at the archbishop.
A rushing 3rd-tier sphere of flame.
Paladin Railver instantly blocked it with his shield, then hurled his holy power-infused mace.
Kwooooom!
The Lich's upper body exploded as if blown apart, completely gone.
Retrieving his weapon from afar, Railver again stood guard by the archbishop's side with Shane.
[───!]
[───!]
Next, Undead cavalry leapt over the village palisade from both flanks.
Left and right.
Each group raised their blades and charged toward the other, converging on their targets, the archbishop and the two paladins.
Yet before they could take more than a few steps, they were cut off.
Shraaaash!
A crimson sword drew dazzling arcs.
The moment the red threads flowing from its tip touched, bones split apart.
The charge was annihilated by Leira, who cut straight through the center.
"Wow! That was amazing, Lady Leira!"
From behind, Bishop Lena clapped.
Leira glanced back briefly in acknowledgment, then turned her eyes to the opposite flank.
'...As expected, strong.'
A man concealing himself in robes, his lower face hidden by a metal mask, Adrian.
Already, not only the Undead cavalry but also the nearby dead had all been slaughtered by him.
'So he's not accompanying Asher for nothing.'
Calling him lord meant he was closer to a subordinate than a companion.
Or, perhaps, since he was a noble count, Adrian was more like a knightly guard?
'What exactly is their relationship...'
She wondered for a moment, then shook off her thoughts and refocused on the situation.
The hundreds of Undead were nearly gone.
Naturally, not a single death, nor even a notable injury, had occurred among the faithful of Luas.
'Now, all that's left is for Asher to return—'
It was then.
From above, a familiar presence approached rapidly.
Verden descended into the village center.
Floating beside him, bound firmly by stone, was an unfamiliar black magician.
"You have done well, Asher. You truly returned quickly."
Joseph smiled benevolently as he looked over the captive.
A crushed nose, broken teeth.
The word "battered" was far too mild to describe him.
"You have left him nearly half-dead."
Verden shrugged.
In such a case, perhaps it was more fitting to say he had left half alive.
***
The interrogation of the black magician was entrusted directly to Paladin Shane.
Screams echoed from within the building.
Before long, silence followed.
The door opened, and Shane emerged with the black magician, now even more mangled.
"What is the result?"
"Yes, Archbishop. Though we could not extract detailed information about them, we did find this in his possession."
It was a letter.
Joseph immediately broke the seal and checked its contents.
───Archbishop Joseph, come to the city of Kailiens, to Surdmil.
A very simple sentence.
"It seems he was a messenger."
"A messenger, hm..."
Joseph fell briefly into thought.
Mulling over the words, he soon sought out Verden's group.
And without hesitation, he shared the letter's contents.
Leira asked.
"It's almost like an invitation... Will you really go to Surdmil as it says?"
"It is a valuable lead, I cannot ignore it."
Joseph nodded as if it were natural.
Though it was most likely a trap, he showed no concern at all.
It was clear he held some hidden card in which he placed complete faith.
'And yet, he revealed the letter.'
Not only to Verden, but also to Adrian and Leira.
The intent was obvious, and as expected, the archbishop continued.
"In that sense, I would like to request your aid. Would you not accompany us to Surdmil?"
"...!"
"Archbishop, that..."
The two paladins voiced their concern, but Joseph raised a hand to silence them.
"As we received your aid in Riverungr, so too do we need your strength now. Of course, you shall be duly rewarded for your efforts. What say you?"
Leira and Adrian's eyes turned to Verden.
It meant the decision was his.
Verden stroked his chin.
More than the Church's reward, he considered the influence of accepting such a request, the aims of the archbishop, and of the Glory of the Dead.
Then he asked.
"If we aid you, will that hasten the lifting of the bounty upon us?"
The bounty issued by Kailiens may have already reached even the Republic of Beldirn.
If so, Leira's adventurer authority for spatial teleportation would be hampered.
"Of course."
"Then we accept."
Verden agreed.
It was a decision grounded in many reasons.
Joseph smiled warmly.
"Thank you, Asher, Leira, and the one whose name I do not know. Then I shall entrust you with the journey to Surdmil."
Naturally, Bishop Lena would accompany them.
Returning to Riverungr was out of the question, and only the archbishop's holy power could lift the curse upon her hand.
Thus, their destination was decided.
But before that.
"The black magician who slew a child to make him Undead, execute him."
Joseph's sentence of death was delivered.
The paladins moved.
From above, the mace fell, from below, sharp blades surged.
Crunch! Slaaash!
The life of the wicked black magician was cut away.
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