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C.43 Tolg used Perish Song

Ever since that day, it observed the boy from afar.

It didn’t know why. It just felt like it needed to do so.

Perhaps it was out of curiosity, or maybe, out of desire.

It was a monster, after all.

But, without knowing how it started, it wanted more.

Observing wasn’t enough.

It wanted to walk alongside the boy.

But, it somehow knew that it couldn’t.

Not with how it looked like.

So, it found a solution.

In the form of a little girl.

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The shock he felt couldn’t be expressed in words.

There, before him, stood the “enemy” he thought he was fighting. The feeling of betrayal that wracked him with guilt had, itself, been betrayed.

Was he the same person Matthias had spent many hours with, fighting against common enemies with their backs against each other’s? He didn’t know. He was overcome with confusion that he himself couldn't make sense of.

What should he ask? Where does he even begin? Tormented by these thoughts, his mouth could only flap uselessly.

As if Tolg sensed his troubles, he smiled reassuringly. Or at least, as far as he could do so with a mouth full of sharp canines. And then, he said,

“Don’t worry, Sir Matthias. I am not your enemy. Not me.”

He paused for a moment, and then pointed towards “Tolg”, the other “him.”

“I told you once that I travel in search of someone, correct? That person is “him.” But also, not him.”

“... That’s really vague.”

Tolg chuckled and nodded his head. “True. I apologize. But now isn’t the time to explain things. We need to save your friend first, right? I’ll take care of the “other me”. Please put in your all to take your friend back. These two children will help you.”

By his beckoning, the red-haired one with a sword and the gray-haired one with a shield shuffled their way towards them. Unlike normal undead, their gait was normal–dignified, even. They carried themselves in such a way that wouldn’t shame living warriors. And their facial expressions, despite being ruined in some form or another, were fierce and full of “life”, if not a bit stiff.

But regardless, Matthias knew that they were still undead. There was no way someone could still be alive with an open skull, regardless of how small the fracture was. So he couldn’t help but flinch and be on guard against them.

“Please don’t worry, Sir Matthias. These children won’t harm you.”

“... Are they…?”

Tolg nodded with a forlorn expression.

“Yes. They were the ones who had died that night–the ones we weren’t able to save. I had… reanimated them. Of course, with their permission.”

“So… you really are a necromancer?”

The sound of leather rubbing could be heard clearly as Matthias tightened his grip on his sword. His face contorted slightly with rage and indignation. At that moment he was all but ready to strike Tolg down. It took a lot of self-control for him to not do so…. because he didn’t want to portray the beastkin in front of him as a bad guy.

After all, the anger he displayed during that time inside the bandit hideout was genuine. He was genuinely distraught by the deaths of those girls. But of course, he had lost some measure of faith in him.

Necromancers were such people, after all. There was no reason to practice one of the greatest taboos there was aside from some psychotic need.

Yet despite the hate Matthias openly displayed, Tolg replied with an understanding, melancholic smile.

“Yes. I am a necromancer. That was the reason why I could sense this ritual even from such a great distance… and why these children became undead so quickly.”

And then, he did something that was completely in character with his nature, but still came as a total shock to Matthias.

Tolg placed his right hand on his chest and bowed.

“I apologize for not telling you sooner. If all of this had not happened, you wouldn’t have known until the end. But at the same time, my not telling you my real profession caused me to lose your trust.”

Following his example, the two undead turned their glassy eyes towards Matthias and bowed as well.

It was then that he realized the implications of Tolg’s tale. Despite raising them from the dead by his own hand, he wasn’t controlling them. Perhaps it was because of the way that they bowed at different timings and at different angles, Matthias couldn’t quite understand what led him to that conclusion.

But the look in both of their eyes seemed to tell him one thing;

“Please forgive him.”

He sighed and took multiple deep breaths to calm down. Each exhale managed to loosen the tension of his mind and body. It didn’t take long for him to regain his cool; a fact that he was surprised with himself.

“Fine,” he stated firmly. “You owe me an explanation after this. And… I want you to tell the families of the girls what you have done.”

Tolg’s ears perked up from his words. When he raised his torso, he stared Matthias directly in the eyes and said, “I promise.”

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The group quickly came up with a battle plan.

Tolg and the two undead clerics would hold back the necromancer while Matthias and the two zombie warriors would attempt to incapacitate Soleil.

He wasn’t sure how well they would do considering he and Manna had been defeated regardless of their perfect coordination. But, according to Tolg, all four undead he had brought were “strong enough to do the job”.

Certainly, none of them seemed like ordinary undead. It wasn’t just their apparent autonomy that interested him. Even as they were simply standing still, they had a presence that was distinctly more oppressive than a regular undead.

Anyway, they were at least unlike anything he had ever read from books. But then again, all of the books regarding necromancy that was available to him at the mansion were all old relics. Who knew how much the art had improved over the years?

That was especially true with the two zombies that were to work together with him. Instead of simply carrying themselves upright like most zombies did, which made them look awkward when they walked, the two had postures that were ramrod straight. Their chests were held high and their gazes carried a calm conviction completely uncharacteristic of undead.

It was almost like they were proud of what they were.

Curiously, he glanced at the other ones that were on Tolg’s side. They were a different sort from the ones that accompanied him in that they had softer features and much more serene countenances–despite being mangled in different places. The pressure they gave off was also of a different kind compared to the others. If the two with him were like a raging waterfall, then the two clerics were like a giant glacier.

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“... What in the world are you girls…?”

He shook those thoughts out of his mind. He needed to concentrate. There was no need to distract himself from what he needed to do. It was possibly his last chance to set things right. And for providing him with that opportunity, he even thought of treating the “good necromancer” to a meal after everything was over.

“Sir Matthias. It’s time.”

The only reason why they were able to have the time to talk like that was because the other “Tolg” had been busy repairing Soleil’s body. Perhaps it was because Soleil just had a really awkward body structure which explained her power, it took even such a powerful necromancer a long time to do so. But none of them even thought to disturb them as it happened.

“The farther a necromancer gets from his undead, the weaker his control over them becomes. And at the same time, their undead can manifest the most amount of power if they are near their masters. If you want to be able to hold your friend down, we need to pull them away from each other.”

Those were Tolg’s words as he explained the intricacies of how necromantic control worked. But it wasn’t like they could just lure Soleil away through the passage where they had come from. Obviously, the necromancer would summon her back if they had tried to do that. So the most they could do was to fight her at a distance that seemed normal, without going past a point where the enemy would realize what they were doing. That was easier said than done, of course, but that was exactly what Tolg’s job was.

“Don’t worry about it. If anybody can distract him from anything, that would be me.”

There was obviously some deep history between the two. Otherwise there was no way the two would look so much alike, and even, in a way, act like the other. Not only were beastkins relatively uncommon in that continent in the first place, the dire wolf species were particularly attached to their homeland, so it was extremely difficult to just happen upon two of them outside the continent.

They observed Soleil’s repair process from afar. She still had his sword on her hand, which slightly unnerved him. But as far as he knew, it was impossible for just anybody to use the sword’s effects anyway. The only thing that troubled him was that he didn’t know how to fight her when she had a weapon. Though, he was quite sure that she was at least competent with it. There was no way that such a strong fighter could just utterly fail at something just because she was given a different tool.

And soon, the recovery was completed. Tolg signaled the start of the reengagement by casting the strongest Fire-type magic he had.

“Hark! The glorious death of the salamander. Echo, the radiant voice. [Throes of the Pyre]”

Triple-line magic. It was something that even he had difficulty performing. While he was able to simply skip the preceding lines as part of his blessings as a hero, he doubted he could perform such a high-level spell without doing the same thing. Worse was, his blessing didn’t work with Demon Culling, so he still had to recite preceding lines in order to activate its stronger effects.

Tolg struck the ground with the head of his staff. Immediately, a powerful wave of heat expanded from where he stood. But its real effects manifested underneath the necromancer and Soleil’s feet. A circle of molten rock bled out from the soil before the entire area exploded into a giant tornado of fire. As it burned the air and magic around it, it produced an extremely loud noise that sounded like a mix between a siren and metal being grinded down.

Matthias watched with awe… and a bit of jealousy. If only he could also cast fire magic, then he would be able to create some really impressive displays with the amount of modern knowledge he knew.

The magic only lasted for around five seconds until it abruptly burnt out. The surroundings darkened slightly while everybody’s eyes adjusted to the previous levels of light in the cave.

And as expected, both of them were fine. But they were not unharmed. Fire was the natural weakness of all zombie-type undead. Soleil in particular looked the worse for wear, with much of her skin a smoking, charred mess.

Tolg snorted with dissatisfaction and pretended to prepare another spell–the bait. Because of course, they wouldn’t allow that to happen.

Soleil rushed towards them with frightful speed, kicking up dust and embers behind her wake. She arrived by Tolg’s feet almost instantly, which would have normally meant the death of anybody unprepared to take her attack.

But at the same time that she moved, the gray-headed undead also kicked off to intercept her. With her massive shield, she managed to block Soleil’s fist in a nick of time, which resulted in a loud peal of thunderous noise echoing around them.

Next was the red-haired one. She came right from behind her peer and thrust her sword towards Soleil right as her fist made contact with the shield. That sight reminded Matthias of the two beastkin siblings he had a spar with. That maneuver was exactly the same as theirs, with the smaller one hiding behind the person who led the charge.

As she pushed her sword towards Soleil, he noticed that the sword started to glow red slightly. He quickly realized that it was a fire enchantment.

But despite their concerted efforts, Soleil managed to easily dive out of the way, rolling over a short distance before stopping on her knees.

–And then, a look of confusion appeared on her face. She brought both of her hands up to her face and slightly tilted her head. Then, she looked back towards the two undead that had blocked her earlier.

One of them, the one who carried a great shield, had Demon Culling in her hand.

Within an instant that barely lasted a fraction of a second, she was able to defend Tolg from an attack that came at them at an incredible speed and then steal the weapon on her hand right as she dodged the retaliation that followed.

Even Matthias’ jaw dropped from what he saw–because he didn’t even see it happen.

The shielder wordlessly lobbed his sword to him. Just like that, he had his sword back. He stared at it in pure shock. His eyes traveled upwards back to the two who had pulled off such a feat.

They were undead. Undead did not possess any emotions. Undead did not possess any souls. Other than to feed and kill, they felt no other desire. That was what all of the stories he had heard of in the past had taught him.

But right at that moment, he saw something else on the faces of those two undead.

He saw excitement.

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Spear stood alone in the middle of a vast sea of shattered bones and rock.

An insurmountable challenge faced her that moment. It came in the form of a massive creature of bone, shaped like a reptile with wings. If only dragons weren’t known to be extinct, then it would have been easy to mistake the monster in front of her to be one.

Though she was but a little girl not larger than a human child, she was able to face the fearful undead with her chest held high and her chin raised. Arrogance and confidence bled through every orifice of hers, perpetuating an incredibly condescending sneer on her face. It was of such propensity that even a monster, which held no concept of reading expressions, could understand that, despite their overwhelming size difference, it was he who was being looked down upon.

And it enraged him further… Yes, further.

“I pity you, lizard,” she said with careless abandon. “I guess this isn't your fight. But regardless, it had become yours through not of your own will. Pity. A pity.”

The drake bellowed in rage. He attacked with his claws; strong enough to batter castle walls--

But, all he could reach was the very tip of her flowing robes.

“Frustrating, isn’t it? For you to feel so powerless even when you’ve become so powerful.”

The drake released toxic fumes from his mouth, enveloping the entire area with flesh-rotting poison.

But, with a single twirl, the girl dissipated everything to the wind.

“You have so many things to do, so many things to get revenge on. But yet here you are, stuck with someone you’ve never met. How do you feel, child?”

The drake released a hateful cry. From his own body, several powerful skeletons crawled out. Each of them were strong enough to overpower an experienced adventurer in solo combat. They were fast, powerful, and were even capable of teamwork to a limited capacity. Shaped like beasts, they lashed out towards the little girl less than a quarter of their size with primal fury–

But they were just left behind and ground to dust with a single step.

“Sorry, child. I can’t afford to die right now. My life is no longer my own, at least right now.”

She vividly recalled the scene from around half an hour ago.

It was just before Matthias and Manna left to fight Soleil on their own, and right before the drake had run out towards her in rage.

She had told what Matthias needed to do. She had prepared everything he needed in order to win–even having to cause a disturbance up on the surface to make him notice.

As a hero-to-be, what he had been provided with was surely more than enough for him to pull a desperate victory.

While she certainly could give him far more that what was necessary in order to win easily, where was the significance in that?

Heroes were born in hardship. No good hero ever appeared out of thin air. They must all suffer, be forged in the fires of pain and loss. The more they felt desperate, the higher the cliff they must climb out of, the stronger they would be, the more resolute their heart would become.

But–there was a problem.

The hero, just like her, also didn’t have a life that belonged entirely to himself.

“If Matthias dies, I’ll kill you. I swear I will. Even if I have to climb out of hell to do it.”

Spear laughed.

She hadn’t had a good laugh in ages.

In the many hundreds of years of her life, that was the first time someone threatened to kill her even when she knew that failure resulted in all of their deaths.

Ahh, she felt wonderful. She wondered what kind of life she would have still been living if she hadn’t been ordered by her good friend to come to that town. It would probably be a really boring life, no doubt!

But, on a whim, she accepted the challenge. To the monster who guarded the hero’s shadow, she swore to it that the hero-to-be had what it took to become the real thing.

Pain becomes power. Suffering becomes strength.

As Spear walked the lonely path of being a guide, she finally felt alive.

“A hero who didn't know what true heroes are;

A monster in love with its mortal enemy;

The primal one, lost in foreign lands;

And a necromancer, who looks at the dead with kind eyes.”

Ahh, what fun it would be to serve as their guide.