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Is it Reincarnation if I'm Still Dead?
Arc 3, Chapter 111: In-Spectre Enbos

Arc 3, Chapter 111: In-Spectre Enbos

Twenty-two-hundred hours. The base of Rever Point. Our forces are currently occupying the camp directly outside the mouth of a cave. From the moment Maximillian’s descended on the battlefield, the cultists’ defeat became a foregone conclusion. Their first line was completely decimated while their second took heavy casualties before deciding to retreat. All of them are now holed up inside this cave, and according to the scouts, they have nowhere else to run.

On paper, it should be an overwhelming victory, and yet there are several problems with the actual picture. For one, we have not seen Tascus or any member of his inner circle. Second, the entire third enemy line and the remainder of the second line made an early retreat, which means there is a sizeable force lying in wait within those caverns. Finally, morale has hit rock bottom in the aftermath of the recent battle.

After Tascus’ infiltrators made themselves known, tensions are high as adventurers and guards keep to their own groups. There is plenty of resentment towards Maximillian and his men too. Their unannounced “cleansing” has proved unpopular, although most were cowed upon tearing the flesh masks from their deceased “friends”. While some found renewed strength through anger, many have simply broken down from the revelation of it all. Thinking back, Maximillian and his men must have secretly screened everybody over the past few days and stuck all the most suspicious parties on the frontline. Their blatant distrust has also lent credence to the belief that they value their brothers over the lives of everybody else, as exhibited by their lagged response despite their overwhelming might. Playing devil’s- well, god’s advocate, I understand that for the sake of taking down a goliath like Tascus they will want to conserve as much strength as possible, especially when he has yet to rear his gaudy head.

As for me, I’m sitting alone by a campfire. The rest of my teammates are all incapacitated… or dead. A dozen metres or so away, Sen, Minna, Norf and Sig are looking at me with concern, but a patrolling knight walks between us as they look away. Maximillian has clearly told his men to keep an eye on me, although the recent battle and my miserable mood makes me feel like some war criminal.

Name Enbos Race Undead Class Dark Acolyte Level 11 HP 183/183 MP 168/168

Base Modifiers Total Max HP 183 (↑5) 183 Max MP 168 (↑6) 168 Attack 48 (↑2) +20 68 Defence 35 (↑2) +25 60 Magic 138 (↑4) 138 Resilience 66 (↑2) +2 68 Agility 70 (↑3) -4 66 Integrity 416 (↑58) 416

“*Sigh*, not helping.”

(I-I’m sorry, Enbos. I’ll contact you later.)

(No, no, Hachirou. I was just talking to myself. What’s up?)

(I just wanted to ask. Are you okay, Enbos?)

(… Not really. And you?)

(I feel the same. It was an ugly battle. I said that we shouldn’t disrespect their resolve, b-but… not all of them were warriors.)

(Yeah. I’m almost glad all of them were masked. Once the arrows rained and the swords crossed, nobody on the ground was fighting for justice, duty or even money. They were just desperate to survive.)

(T-they?)

(… Although it was nowhere near the scale of Maximillian’s men, I was snuffing out multiple lives – desperate, struggling, fragile lives. There was not a single moment I truly felt in danger, and before my hesitation, I was still deciding the fates of those putting everything on the line.)

(There was nothing we could do. I loathe to say this, Enbos, but their fates were long sealed.)

(Perhaps, Hachirou, but not all those cultists were as incorrigible as the whole. For some… I may not have had a good enough reason for killing them.)

(I see. Truthfully, I found myself questioning my resolve as well. Although my blade is still spared from human blood, me suppressing them led to their deaths nonetheless. T-there was even a moment I-I… I had to confront the same foe twice.)

(Twice…? Ah, I see.)

(…)

(… Let it out, Hachirou. Just let it out.)

(I-I know. May the World Stream guide their souls to a better place.)

(How is Lili?)

(She has been very quiet. The battle has clearly shaken her, perhaps more so than either of us.)

(I see. The desperation and cruelty on display is not something anyone should witness.)

(I don’t believe that is all. I-I think the betrayal and mistrust amongst our ranks is upsetting her more than the brutality of the fight.)

(Were there any imposters in your group?)

(N-no, but everybody is on guard, nonetheless.)

(You and Lili best stay away from everybody else, including me. I’m expecting accusations to fly at the drop of a hat.)

(A-about that Enbos… there is something amiss I noticed about one of the adventurers.)

(Wait, really!? You found an imposter?)

(I-I don’t know, but it’s someone we have already encountered, yet their scent has entirely changed. I-I could be wrong since we only crossed paths briefly...)

(No, I trust your judgement, Hachirou. Who is it?)

(Y-you see, it’s…)

----------------------------------------

“Are you certain, Brother Evans?”

“Yes, prior. I’ve cast again like you asked and it’s still the same result: there are no more life signatures within the caves.”

It has been twenty minutes since we routed the enemy and occupied their camp. Twenty minutes since we drove five hundred cultists into these caverns then held position outside the entrance. Brother Evans had cast his spell the moment we reached the cave, and at first, he could sense all the cultists squeezed in the furthest ends. However, little-by-little, the life signatures mysteriously vanished until none were left. While it is entirely possible that they managed to escape, the Labyrinth Shrouds are still active and our scouts are scattered across the mountain. They can only be inside that cave, waiting to ambush us from places unknown. However…

“That is not possible, Brother Iudico. I’ve mapped the entire cave system with my magic and I am telling you now it is far too small to accommodate 600 cultists.”

“Hm, could they have closed off some passageways with earth magic?”

“While it’s possible, my magic can permeate the walls by a few feet. It’s all solid as far as I can tell. Also, I’ve been tracking their movements since they entered. Every one of them has disappeared around this spot,” indicates Brother Evans on a rough map scratched in the dirt, “at regular intervals. If they had opened a secret pathway, my wind magic would have scattered or be cut off, but there is no such sensation.”

“… Which means they must have opened a portal.”

“I’m afraid so. If I must infer, there is probably a great hollow within this mountain, and if they destroy the portal, we won’t be able to reach them unless we dig through hundreds of metres of solid rock.”

“That does sound likely. Even for a geomancer it would be hard to breach. I may be able to breakthrough with the full power of Horizon’s Edge, but I will need to investigate the portal to determine the trajectory.”

“Are you really capable of another attack of that scale, brother? You would only be at a third of your strength.”

“I will do what I must. Besides, even without me I have faith in all of you to execute our duty. Let us be wary whilst we enter the cave.”

“Yes prior.”

The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

Nevertheless, if there really is such a space, why did the cultists first engage us in combat? It would be more prudent to barricade themselves within the isolated cavern then await our arrival. There must be something I am overlooking and I can’t afford to miss such a detail now.

As I ponder these concerns, I suddenly spy Agnes approaching us at a brisk pace before casting a soundproof barrier around the three of us. She hands me a scroll from the outer scouts, and as I read the report in silence, the tiles suddenly fall into place.

“… More than twenty convoys in the area suddenly changed course and are approaching Rever Point from all sides. A dozen unidentified groups have also made themselves known. They are all suspected to be cultists, and combined… are estimated to be almost two thousand in number.”

“… I beg your pardon?”

“That’s impossible!” exclaims Brother Evans. “The largest cults have only ever been a thousand strong! How could such a large scourge go undetected for so long?”

“The enemy has hidden themselves well. However, I suspect they are cooperating with other cults for the chance to eliminate their most feared, common enemy: us.”

I see, it all makes sense now. If they had come at us all at once, it would have only made our duty that much easier. But weaken our men and lure us into a situation where we have to divide our forces? Focus too much on defending it will buy their hierarch precious time. Focus too much on attacking their stronghold and our perimeter will break, giving the cultists a chance to escape. Moreover, the second force is still spread out across a vast area, making it difficult to launch a decisive, pre-emptive strike. Once we commit, they will likely seal the cave by some means and launch a combined assault whilst triggering whatever trap they’ve hidden within the occupied camp.

“We can hold out against any number of cretins, prior. Just take our core members and cut off the head of the serpent.”

“I know. Now, let us make haste. I will get in touch with our scout master to plant Labyrinth Shrouds in more defensible positions. Sister Agnes, gather all the B rank adventurers and guard heads at the mouth of the cave and give a confidential debriefing while I’m away. Brother Evans, inform the healers to prioritise the least injured after tending to the critically wounded. We need to get as many able bodies for the coming battle.”

“Yes, prior!”

“Brother Michael,” I call out to as Agnes rescinds the soundproof wall, “I need you to sweep the grounds and find any traps left by the previous occupants. Also, this may be redundant but I need you to keep a closer eye on our forces. Tascus is surveying us, so there must still be a-”

“I have uncovered a cultist!”

“Hm?”

----------------------------------------

Oh boy, here it comes. I knew he was going to try something, but I had hoped the reality of the situation would have knocked some sense into him. Unfortunately, his head is much too thick for him to notice.

Amongst the crowd of dire and grieving adventurers, Dion the Dense- I mean, the Destroyer, has dramatically step forth to make a declaration. Quite a few heads turn in his direction, each tightly gripping their weapons. I can already guess everything he is going to say, so I only pay half a mind while working on the parchment in my hand.

“What do you mean?”

“Who could it be?” says his lackeys in a painfully cringey manner.

“My friends and fellow brothers-in-arms, the cultists cowardly tactics have turned us on one-another. Although Sir Iudico’s decisive actions have culled the imposters, I fear he has not uncovered them all. Like everyone else, I stayed my tongue and harboured my suspicions, but after everything I have seen, I have no doubt in my mind that the enemy among us… is him!”

To everybody’s surprise except my own, he points his finger to me. I don’t say a word and flat out ignore him as I continue to write. However, I can hear the whispers among the crowd with some expressing doubt given how much of an easy target I am. Naturally, Sen jumps to my defence but in such a timely fashion that I begin to wonder if he’s also in on the act.

“How dare you! What proof do you have Enbos is one of Tascus’ spies? He fought against him to the death!” yells Sen as Minna tries to pull him back by the collar.

“The truth is plain as day. Look! Only his group has been completely annihilated, with him as the only survivor,” he boldly claims, taking advantage of the fact the actual survivors are currently with the healers. “I saw with my own eyes that he abandoned them! He cast aside his duty of shielding his companions to “fight” the enemy, despite strict instruction from Sir Iudico.”

“And fight he did, you dumb drake,” says Sig unexpectedly. “Your eyes are mupped and your words are krakenpot. So hear me, my jobbers: his pals went boom and the rest sat doomed. But not Enbos. Enbos was roc’ing, smite’n fools like an absolute wurm.”

Er, look Sig, I appreciate that you’re trying to help me, but I don’t think anybody understood even half of what you just said.

“… Or so you say,” responds Dion with a vicious smile, “but I saw him spare an enemy with my own eyes. Moreover, while he chose to abandon his companions, he deemed fit to shield that cultist.”

Ah, so he saw that.

“After that suspicious act, he proceeded to charge towards the enemy’s main force, alone. Clearly, that would be a suicidal decision unless he knew they wouldn’t attack him. It was only after the holy knight’s intervention that he fell in line and all his bravado mysteriously disappeared. Do you understand now, my brothers? He’s an enemy hiding in plain sight!”

Although over dramatic, everybody is too on edge to notice as they direct all their attention towards me. Sen, Minna, Norf and Sig move to defend me as the whispers grow louder. In the back, I can see Maximillian completely ignoring this development, knowing full well how blatantly false it is yet not inclined to defend my name in the slightest. Still, at this rate I might end up confined to the camp and unable to pursue Tascus. Worse, my friends will probably be stigmatised as well. On the bright side, I’m thankful that the one making these accusations is this short-tempered attention seeker.

“Come on, Dion. I know I allegedly knocked you out in one blow back in Catorrem, but can you please not make such wild accusations? Doing so now is in bad taste.”

“S-shut up, that never happened!”

“That’s not how the songs will go for the next ten years,” I say while putting a hand on Sen’s shoulder.

He nods in response and relaxes his guard as I walk up to Dion’s face.

“… and nothing you do here is going to erase that. Oh, and in case anybody is wondering, I am Enbos the Black while this gentleman is Dion the *ahem* Destroyer. You can probably figure out the rest.”

As expected, most of the adventurers here are familiar with Dion’s bad rap as they turn to him with looks of disdain. Like a cornered rat, him and his lackeys are now looking about, trying to convince the crowd to believe him, but already they are turning away. He turns to me red-faced, but before he can do something that would elicit another beat down…

“Nevertheless, I do feel partly responsible for your current distress. After all, we never met each other in Catorrem.”

“Eh?”

My sudden backtracking elicits confused reactions from everybody in the vicinity, especially from Dion himself. Without missing a beat, I offer the parchment I’ve been working on recently, to which he snatches and begins reading.

“I don’t know how such an outlandish rumour propagated in the first place,” I continue. “It may be too late to stop the stories, but I hope this goes some way to restoring your reputation. Once you sign it, with your companions acting as witnesses, it will serve as indelible proof of your claims.”

That and promised reparations worth up to 30 whole fablars for reputational damages, but let’s not tell everyone to save what little face he has. Feeling apprehensive, Dion looks between me and my signature at the bottom of the parchment.

“It’s a trick. You’ve cursed the contract to get back at me.”

“That’s not how curses work, and besides, there are perfectly good clerics at hand if that were the case. What reason do I have wish ill on someone I have never met? Although you were sorely mistaken about your reasoning, certain parties may take interest in your observations and ask for excruciating detail. Details that are very easy to misunderstand.”

“… I suppose I was mistaken in the heat of the battle. Pass me that quill.”

“Of course.”

“What the- the accursed thing is dry!”

“Whoops, my apologies,” I say while secretly rescinding . “Here.”

After offering them a pot of black ink, he and his pals gingerly sign the contract. Carefully, I position myself with my back to the nearest campfire and watch as they write their signatures. Sure enough…

“Huh? Why is the ink turning re-”

Two strikes.

!”

Before he can finish the last syllable, I cast and pop out of their midst to deliver a powerful uppercut… to one of Dion’s followers. It takes Dion a few seconds to comprehend as his “pal” comes crashing down on his back.

“ENBOS, YOU BAST- Huh!?”

“Just stay there and watch,” I tell the pair as they grapple with my .

Naturally, he breaks free and goes for his axe, but not before I walk over to the unconscious man and reach behind his ear. Sure enough, I feel a catch… and peel a layer of flesh off his face, revealing an entirely different person underneath. The revelation sends Dion stumbling back as I place the last remains of his associate to the side. Grimly, I watch as his remaining companion screams his friend’s name and Dion’s dazed eyes flicker with flashes of the recent past. Even for a man like him, I can’t help but offer my deepest sympathies as all his arrogance is replaced with genuine anguish. I look away with the parchment in my hand and a gut full of remorse, only to greet Maximillian the moment I turn around. Sighing under my imaginary breath, I follow him to the side as the holy knights keep everybody else at bay.

“Do you mind telling me how you were able to discern and then expose that cultist?”

“I’ve met them before and thought he was acting differently since. Of course, I had no definitive proof so I tricked him into signing this,” I say as I raise the parchment for Maximillian to see.

The last signature is a deep red instead of black.

“I see. A sincerity contract.”

“As one would expect from a mageline that specialises in trade.”

“So why did you neglect to mention such a critical item?”

“I can bear no responsibility for your ignorance, Sir Iudico. After all, you confiscated my possessions and had ample opportunity to inspect them. It’s your own fault for overlooking it.”

“… *Sigh* I don’t have time to get into another argument with you. Your house has probably imposed strict conditions to entrust such a valuable tool, however I am willing to compensate. Will you hand me the sincerity contract?”

“Of course,” I oblige as I pass the papers and ink pot onto-

!”

A column of fire suddenly erupts between us, but even more astonishingly, Maximillian manages to react faster than the ravenous flames to throw such a heavy thrust that I’m pushed well out of harm’s way. The culprit is a mage from one of the adventurer groups, and before anyone of his companions can tell what is going on, Maximillian is already swinging his glaive. A blade of light flies through the air and passes through the mage, and after a second of silence, he falls into two clean pieces from the shoulder to the hip. It’s a grisly sight, and naturally, it leads to a ruckus amongst the adventurers. Unconcerned, Maximillian casts a spherical barrier around me before facing the unsettled crowd.

“Enbos, report!”

“I’m fine, Iudico.”

“Irrelevant subject. Your apparatus.”

“The parchment is a little singed, but otherwise-”

“Enbos, behind you!”

Heeding Minna’s sudden warning, I turn on my heel and barely deflect an attack from a “swordsman” sticking half-way out of my shadow. Trapped inside the barrier, he continues his barrage of attacks while keeping me between him and Maximillian, blocking his line of sight. I almost , when all of a sudden, something incredibly bright whooshes between my arm and my side before flying straight through my attacker’s chest. The “swordsman” crumples to his knees with a gaping wound while I look back through the hole in the barrier.

“Maximillian, you son of a-!”

“Fool! Don’t look away!”

Too late. As I turn back around, the dying cultist lurches forward and grasps my wrist with the last of his strength.

“For… Maleosis!”

Damn it, this guy is rigged to blow!

!”

Agnes shouts out from the side as three triangular walls erupt from the ground and trap the “swordsman” in a translucent pyramid, slicing off his arm in the process. I immediately jump back, but despite Agnes’ best efforts, she is unable to contain the full blast. Although I manage to stay on my feet, the damage has been done. I curse under my breath at the sight of the shattered bottle in my palm and the black puddle at my feet.

“… I don’t suppose you are withholding more?”

“No, Maximillian. That was all of it,” I say with a stained fist.

“*Sigh* So be it. Knight Sergeant Michael, detain the deceased suspect’s party for questioning. Lieutenant Gregoria, provide detail about the two attackers.”

“They were under the guises of Norm Canis and Pike Richardson. Both were B rank adventurers.”

What!?

“I see.”

“By the spirits, even the B rankers…”

“… How could he not notice for so long. Isn’t he an inquisitor?”

“… A-are they all prepared to blow up like that? H-how can we…”

“… Everyone, at ease!” bellows Maximillian. “The fact we have forced the hand of their most dangerous operators means it was a last act of desperation. We will maintain patrols but please rest assured. Our expedition is sound.”

No, you know as well as I do that isn’t the case at all. If anything, the situation is far worse than any of us expected.

They were B rankers, the most decorated fighters among the adventurers and guaranteed to be in higher positions along our chain of command. If the cultists are willing to sacrifice two well-entrenched infiltrators just to destroy my sincerity contract, then who were they covering? Either they’re shielding an even larger crop of B rank imposters, which is unlikely given the small number left, or there are more important hidden agents that will be crucial to Tascus’…

… Oh god. God, please, no.

“Enbos, are you alright!?”

Petrified, I slowly turn my head to see Sen, Minna and Norf running towards me, filled with apparent concern.