The Grasslands Shall Remember Us Forever (4)
"So I sent them out to clear the roads before the hunt even began."
Count Terein bared his teeth as he read the report and laughed.
Nakyeop, who had boasted so confidently, had failed spectacularly, and he had even lost a knight.
That much was fine.
In a way, it meant those arrogant murderers had finally been put in their place.
"And now they're trying to bite their master before running away."
But what exactly was this situation?
The mercenaries he had used like his own hands and feet had betrayed him instead?
"Interesting. Very interesting..."
It was a tribe he had spent an entire generation taming.
He had killed the previous chieftain and severed the pathetic tradition of being descendants of the old empire.
They were people he had turned into his personal tools by dangling wealth before them.
"My lord. The knights are fully prepared."
"Mm."
Suppressing the irritation welling up inside him, he rose from his seat.
When he headed to the training grounds outside the castle, the knights were already waiting for him.
"It's been a long time, Count."
"You all look better than the last time I saw you."
Imperial knight armor modified to suit the desert terrain.
Most of the plate armor had been removed, replaced instead with cloth and leather.
"We heard about Tumen."
"They said the opponent didn't even have mana. Looks like that fool finally hit rock bottom."
The knight whose wrist had been severed by Young Master Klein spat curses toward him, but Count Terein calmed them with a smile.
"The enemy uses both necromancy and swordsmanship. Don't let your guard down."
"Hahaha!"
"That goes without saying!"
Leading the loudly laughing knights, Count Terein mounted his horse.
Hiiiiiing—!
With the horses neighing, the count and his knights rode out beyond the castle walls.
The desert stretched out the moment they passed through the gates.
The empire did not care for this barren land.
And because of that, House Talik and its knights did not care for the empire either.
They belonged to the empire, but they were not loyal to it.
Just as was often the case with one of the empire's three great ducal houses like Leinrant.
"Just when things were getting boring, a new job has appeared!"
As Count Terein shouted while galloping through the desert, smiles spread across the knights' faces.
Power? Honor?
Those who desired such trivial things had long since left this land.
What the knights of Terchin desired was battle that made their blood boil—and gold.
And Young Master Klein would surely satisfy all of those desires.
By the next day, they had returned to the center of the eastern desert.
The entrance they had dug out with great effort yesterday had once again been buried beneath the sand as if nothing had happened.
— You know what to do?
— Kiiiik.
After leaving the construction work to the skeletons, I watched the royal tomb entrance gradually reveal itself.
Look at those skeletons.
Even without flesh, you could practically see the misery on their faces.
Well, what are you looking at?
If you hate it that much, become a necromancer yourself.
"Brrrrrrrr..."
While I was busy working, Stella—wearing every piece of clothing she could find in the luggage—was shivering like she was about to freeze to death.
"I came here at night so you wouldn't slack off during the day, and now you're trembling nonstop?"
The desert had no middle ground when it came to weather.
During the day, the blazing sun and the heat-soaked sand roasted people from both sides.
Then at night, it completely changed its face and brought a cold as harsh as midwinter.
"It's not even cold."
But unlike before, my voice was much brighter.
Unlike the sweltering daytime, the midnight desert was incredibly pleasant to me.
"How is this not cold? Young Master, are you secretly undead or something?"
"I'm reporting you for insulting a noble."
I ignored Stella's nonsense despite her shivering.
Getting locked in a reformatory over those Archimond accusations was already infuriating enough, and now I was being treated like undead too?
"My hometown is far colder than this."
As I said that, I looked toward one corner of the night sky.
Try living for a month at the Northern Great Wall.
I was born and raised in that frozen land—this level of cold was child's play.
— Kiiiik!
Meanwhile, the skeletons that had finished their work vanished one by one.
"Wow! Young Master, look at that!"
Just like during the day, the black stone slab had fully revealed itself.
But at Arin's voice, even I couldn't help letting out a gasp when I looked over.
"Wow, this is really..."
The plain black slab was glowing.
A faint light appeared in response to the moonlight.
And the light traced the movements of countless stars decorating the sky.
"How fascinating. I can't believe technology like this exists."
"Unlike the empire or the church, Aishingior worshipped the moon and stars."
Nomads of the grasslands who wandered their entire lives.
To people like them, the moon and stars of the night sky held special meaning.
Celestial markers guiding those who had lost their way.
The benevolent moonlight that illuminated the desert nights where one could not see even an inch ahead.
Fwaaaash—!
As I continued explaining, the patterns carved into the door began glowing even brighter.
"What's this?"
"It noticed that I'm here. Start getting ready."
After saying that, I approached the slab and pulled a glass bottle from my coat.
Drip—
Inside the bottle was the blood of Timur, chieftain of the Blue Leg Tribe.
The moment the blood of an old imperial descendant touched the wall, the droplets gathered together and began climbing along the patterns engraved into the door.
— Open.
I spoke with the voice of the dead, infused with demonic energy.
The blood I offered was not the blood of a corpse, but blood filled with living vitality.
If I had killed Timur and sprinkled his blood here, this door would never have opened.
Krrrrrrrr...!
Just as expected, the ruins recognized Timur's blood, and the door slowly began opening to both sides.
"It's been a while since I've used this thing."
As I said that, I slowly drew my sword from its sheath.
Shrrring—!
What I drew was not Nordvind, but the crystal sword.
Its transparent blade glowed beneath the moonlight, making it look as though the sword had been carved from a jewel.
"A sword made of glass..."
"You can admire it later."
After saying that, I turned toward Stella.
"Just because the door opened doesn't mean what's inside is safe."
I looked into the pitch-black passage leading underground.
A royal tomb belonging to an empire destroyed by the Meldir Empire.
— Aaaaaah—!
I summoned a banshee and sent it inside, and a reaction came immediately.
The royal tomb was larger than an average small city.
And at its center... they were there.
"Tch. Guess they don't plan on making this easy."
The moment I sensed them, the banshee vanished.
It had been attacked.
Royal tombs were always filled with traps and mechanisms to prevent grave robbers.
This tomb too would still have countless traps intact, their blades gleaming in the darkness.
Crackle—!
Thinking that, I formed a hand seal and summoned the undead.
— Grrr...
— Woof! Woof!
Skeletons to take the lead in my place, and Grave Hounds for scouting.
"And on top of that, I even prepared this little guy for situations like this."
Tsstststst...!
The small magic formation infused with demonic energy began to glow.
The faint blue light grew brighter as it circulated through the pattern, eventually becoming a fist-sized orb of light.
Wooooong—!
A soul lantern that guides wandering dead through the darkness.
A Will-O'-Wisp.
"Huh? Then we don't need this?"
As she said that, Stella waved around an unlit torch.
"If you carry that, one of your hands is occupied. In an enclosed space like this, that alone can be fatal."
This was exactly why skilled necromancers were so versatile.
Unlike mages who had to constantly spend mana maintaining illumination spells, all we had to do was summon something once and be done with it.
"We have no idea what's inside this royal tomb. Don't act recklessly."
After arranging the undead formation, I gave one final warning.
"You don't need to worry about me."
Meanwhile, Stella answered while putting on her gloves.
Clank!
The combat gauntlets Miriam had used before.
Wearing them, Stella loosened up her hands and spoke with a resolute expression.
A priestess of the Holy Church standing before undead.
It seemed the moment had finally come for her to fulfill her true duty, because her eyes burned with zeal and a sense of mission.
"I am a nun personally trained by two Executors. There's no need to protect me—"
"No, not that."
I cut Stella off immediately.
"Huh?"
We both tilted our heads as if we couldn't understand each other.
Then Stella asked, as if confirming something.
"Weren't you about to say, 'It's dangerous, so stay close to me'?"
And after hearing that, I naturally replied:
"Did you take something? Me protect you?"
I frowned deeply and stared at her in disbelief.
'Who exactly is supposed to protect whom?'
If Miriam and Garrison had personally assigned her to stay by my side, her combat ability was obvious enough already.
I should be the one getting protected—what did she mean by sticking close to me?
"Then what did you mean by not acting recklessly...?"
Looking at Stella, who asked that question with confusion, I spoke with a thoroughly unimpressed expression.
"The gold, relics, and all the other valuables inside this tomb."
Flinch.
"I'm telling you not to pick up random stuff because it'll bring bad luck."
The moment I said that, Stella's face—which had been full of enthusiasm—instantly froze over.
"..."
"...W-What are you talking about?"
A brief silence followed.
Then Stella carefully avoided my sharp glare and spoke.
"A nun of the Holy Church looting the tomb of heretics? T-That's absurd..."
"Look me in the eyes and say that."
After saying that, I let out a short sigh and emphasized it again.
"I'm not joking. Seriously, don't take anything."
"And what happens if I secretly take even one thing?"
As I kept stressing it, Stella asked me.
'Good thing I warned her beforehand.'
Thinking that, I slowly descended the stairs.
"You know the communion ritual the church performs every quarter?"
At that, Stella nodded.
The communion ritual.
A kind of holy festival where offerings of food were made in gratitude to the Lord God for the harvest.
"If someone eats the food placed on the altar before the ritual begins, what happens?"
"They get scolded by the sisters."
An immediate answer that strangely didn't fit the mood.
Judging from Stella's pale face, it was easy to guess exactly which "sister" she was talking about.
"The items inside here are the same. If you take them without permission, you'll get punished."
Of course, I hadn't gotten permission yet either.
Swallowing the rest of my words, I continued descending the stairs leading into the royal tomb.
Four thousand gold spent on the Blue Leg Tribe, plus another four thousand on top of that.
I was going to make every last coin back from this tomb.
***
Fwaaash—!
Inside the underground teleportation gate beneath Felician.
The face that emerged there belonged to Glek, and it looked like that of a demon.
"Failure, failure. Another failure."
Every time the word "failure" left his mouth, the members of Nakyeop swallowed nervously.
What Glek held in his right hand was the head of the operative who had reported the mission failure.
It hadn't been cut off with a blade—he had ripped it off barehanded the moment he heard the report.
"How is it that the moment you idiots get involved with that brat, nothing ever goes right? Huh?!"
Even then, it seemed his rage still hadn't subsided, because Glek's voice kept growing louder.
"Answer me, you worthless bastards—!"
Smash!
With the sound of a watermelon exploding, the head in his hand burst apart.
Blood and brain matter splattered across their faces, but the assassins standing in formation did not move a single muscle.
Because if even one finger twitched the wrong way, the next thing exploding would be their own heads.
"Leader of Unit One."
"Yes, sir."
At Glek's growl, the man immediately bowed his head and spoke.
"We've secured a safehouse in the capital of Felician and completed the construction of an information network."
"Good. So not every single one of you is completely useless."
Hearing that at least one mission had succeeded, Glek clicked his tongue as though his mood had improved slightly.
"So who's the new source of funding? I heard they're a pretty big figure."
At those words, an unexpected name came from the reporting man's lips.
"Elfran Aylasis. The former Duke Aylasis."
"...What?"
As if he thought he had misheard, Glek asked again.
Elfran Aylasis.
One of the empire's three great ducal houses, and the head of House Aylasis—the greatest magical family on the continent.
"What kind of bullshit is 'former' duke supposed to mean?"
Elfran was around the same age as Heinkel, Duke of Leinrant.
Old, yes, but certainly not so feeble that he would hand over the ducal title.
And according to the information they had, wasn't the heir, Aigin, still far too young?
"He was stripped of the ducal title and forced to flee to Felician."
That answer only made Glek more confused.
"Stripped of the title? Then who the hell is the Duke of Aylasis now?"
When he asked that, the man answered with a rigid expression.
"Siel Ra Aylasis."