Episode 164: Investigating the Plague (1)
After driving away the two high-class individuals, Damian headed deeper into the eastern region.
“Do we really need to investigate other villages? We’re just here to deal with the undead, right?” Athena asked as she followed him. It was a fair question. They had come to hunt the undead, not to solve a plague.
“I have something I need to check,” Damian replied.
When he had seen the plague-ridden corpses at the castle, something about them had felt eerily familiar to him. The problem was that the sensation was too faint for him to identify it clearly.
That’s why Damian had decided to investigate further to confirm his suspicions.
“Hey, Damian! There’s a village up ahead!” Athena pointed straight ahead. Damian consulted his map. It seemed to be the village Baron Varro had mentioned.
The two of them entered the village.
It was a fairly large settlement, but there was no sign of life. As Baron Varro had said, the villagers had all evacuated.
In the center of the village was a large pit. The two approached it.
”…This is horrific,” Athena murmured softly as soon as she saw what lay inside.
The pit was filled with the bodies of those who had succumbed to the plague, their faces frozen in expressions of agony.
“They said the situation at the castle was better… and they were right,” Athena said, covering her nose with her sleeve to block out the stench of decaying bodies.
Damian silently observed the corpses.
Athena couldn’t see it, but Damian could. The bodies were tainted with dark magic.
“So that’s what that familiar feeling was—dark magic,” he realized.
This wasn’t an ordinary plague. It had been artificially created by a dark sorcerer.
Creating a plague with such high contagion and mortality rates wasn’t something that could be done easily. Even a group of dark sorcerers from the School of All Poisons would take years to achieve it, and success was never guaranteed.
“Dark sorcerers only commit mass slaughter like this for one reason…” Damian thought grimly.
Dark magic required immense suffering to be generated. The sorcerers had orchestrated this atrocity to harvest it.
“Disgusting bastards,” he muttered.
They had killed so many just to gather dark magic. And even in death, the victims found no peace. Their souls were trapped, suffering until they were consumed by the sorcerers.
“You really are scum that shouldn’t be allowed to live,” Damian thought, his gaze resting on the body of a child as he struggled to contain his anger.
Just then, a massive surge of dark magic erupted from somewhere nearby. Damian and Athena turned toward the source.
In the distance, a storm of black energy was rising from the forest.
“Athena!” Damian called.
“Got it!” she replied.
The two of them sprinted toward the source of the dark magic. But by the time they arrived, it was too late.
There were no undead, only knights.
Damian and Athena recognized them immediately. They were Opis and Valet, the ones Damian had beaten and driven out of the castle.
“You! You again!” Opis shouted, pointing a finger at Damian.
“Fancy meeting you here! Perfect timing! I challenge you to a duel!” Opis yelled, gripping his sword hilt. But Damian had no time to waste on him.
He could sense faint traces of dark magic on both of them.
It wasn’t just them. The other knights were also tainted with dark magic.
“Who were you with?” Damian demanded.
“Stop talking nonsense and draw your weapon! This time, I won’t let my guard down like before—”
“Answer me! Who were you with? Someone must have approached you!” Damian shouted, cutting him off.
The dark magic clinging to them was different from the plague’s. It was thicker, more sinister, with a hint of burnt smell.
No ordinary dark sorcerer could wield such magic.
A grand sorcerer.
Only those known as Transcendents could possess such power.
“There was a young man who found the undead’s location…” Opis stammered, startled by Damian’s outburst.
“Where is he now?” Damian pressed.
“He disappeared suddenly. I don’t know,” Opis admitted reluctantly.
Damian’s brow furrowed. The situation was becoming urgent.
“They’ve already set their sights on Fenrir,” he realized.
The dark sorcerer must have informed the knights of Fenrir’s location to complete him as a true undead.
An undead is perfected through hatred. But Fenrir was too docile.
So the knights were sent to provoke him, to make him harbor hatred against them.
“Judging by the fact that these two are unharmed, the plan must have failed,” Damian thought.
The scene was a mess, indicating that the knights had attacked Fenrir with all their might.
Yet Fenrir had chosen to flee rather than retaliate.
What would the dark sorcerer think upon witnessing that?
“They’ll likely abandon the idea of perfecting him and try to capture him instead,” Damian concluded.
No matter how strong Fenrir was, he couldn’t stand against a grand sorcerer.
He would be subdued in an instant, without even a chance to resist.
“I have to catch him before the sorcerer captures Fenrir,” Damian resolved.
If the dark sorcerer captured Fenrir and left the area, tracking them would become a nightmare.
Damian amplified his senses to follow the trail of dark magic. He could feel its faint traces leading away.
Just as he was about to move, Opis and Valet blocked his path.
“Where do you think you’re going? We have unfinished business!” Opis declared.
“Do you think we’ll just let you leave?” Valet added.
Damian looked at them with a weary expression. He didn’t have time to deal with them. He needed to pursue the dark sorcerer as quickly as possible.
“You seem to be in a hurry,” Athena observed, turning to Damian.
“Is there a reason you need to find the undead quickly?”
“Yes, I can’t afford to waste time,” Damian replied.
Hearing that, Athena drew her spear.
“Then go ahead. I’ll handle these guys,” she said.
Damian looked at her, surprised by her cooperation. He hadn’t expected her to be so willing to help.
With Athena’s skills, he had no reason to worry. He decided to leave everything to her.
“Thanks. I’ll leave it to you,” he said.
Damian left Athena behind and followed the trail of dark magic.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Opis shouted.
“Stop right there!” Valet demanded.
The two knights tried to pursue Damian, but Athena intervened, summoning her lightning power.
With a flash, she appeared before them, driving her spear into the ground.
A bolt of lightning struck from the sky, shattering the earth with a deafening roar. The knights recoiled in shock.
“You won’t get past me,” Athena declared, pulling her spear from the ground.
“Damian trusted me with this. I can’t let him down.”
The knights glared at her.
“Arrogant woman… Do you think you can take us both on alone?” Opis sneered.
“Even if you’re the child of the Mercenary King, your arrogance knows no bounds!” Valet added.
Athena sighed, as if tired of their words.
“There are always those like you who underestimate others without having faced true bloodshed,” she said.
She summoned her lightning power again, white currents enveloping her body.
The knights’ expressions hardened in response to her intimidating aura.
“After today, you’ll crawl on the ground at the mere mention of the Fafnir Mercenary Company,” she promised.
Munch stopped a good distance away, his body covered in wounds. Dark magic oozed from the gashes.
“Whimper…” Munch licked his wounds, trying to ease the pain. The cuts, made by something like a mirage, wouldn’t heal quickly. It would take time.
“Whimper… Whimper…” Munch lay down, waiting for the pain to subside.
Master… It hurts… It hurts a lot…
Whenever he was in pain, his master would hold him tightly in his arms. The warmth made the pain seem to fade.
Master…
Just then, he caught his master’s scent again. Munch sprang to his feet, startled.
Master? Is it Master?
He turned toward the source of the scent, but the person there wasn’t his master.
It was another human male.
“To have traveled so far in such a short time… You’re truly remarkable,” the man said, smiling broadly at Munch.
Munch could tell that the man was smiling.
But why did it feel so ominous, despite the smile?
“And your wounds are already healing? You’re no ordinary undead. I’m sure the master will be pleased,” the man continued.
Munch didn’t understand what the man was saying.
But even if he could, he wouldn’t have cared.
His gaze was fixed on something behind the man.
-Aaah! Stop! Stooop!
-It hurts! It hurts! It huuurts!
-Please! Spare me! Please! Please!
Thousands of souls were bound by black threads, suffering in agony.
The air was filled with agonizing screams. They begged for death.
Among them, one soul caught Mungchi’s attention.
-…
Could that even be called a soul?
Unlike the others, its form was indistinct, like a clump of ashes. There were no features, no way to tell where the head might be.
Yet, Mungchi recognized it. The scent told him everything.
Master!
Mungchi wagged his tail furiously, overwhelmed with joy.
Master! I’ve missed you!
But the master didn’t respond, just floated silently in the air.
“What are you looking at? Surely not this?”
A man pulled on a black thread, drawing the master toward him.
“Oh dear… the soul’s disintegrated, leaving only a shell. This is why I dislike children’s souls. They never last long.”
The man stirred the master with his hand, and the master’s body began to dissolve into dust.
As the master’s form scattered, the scent faded until there was nothing left.
…Master?
Mungchi stared blankly at the scene. The man turned to him with a cheerful voice.
“There, all done. Thanks to you, I found the trash quickly. Now there’s a spot open for a new soul…”
Dark energy erupted from Mungchi’s body.
The ground split open from the force. Trees around them shattered into pieces. The clouds above were torn apart.
Master.
People always said Mungchi looked dumb.
Mungchi agreed. He knew nothing. He was a foolish idiot who didn’t understand why his master was suffering.
Master.
Even so, he knew something had happened to his master.
My master.
That man killed the master. Not only killed but tormented him until the end, leaving no trace behind.
My precious master.
I can’t see my master anymore. Because of that man. He took my master away! From me! My master!
In that moment, the undead completed itself. It established its purpose.
Kill.
Kill the man who tormented the master.
Tear apart the man who took the master from him.
Mungchi lifted his head and let out a mournful howl.