The Grasslands Shall Remember Us Forever (6)
"Woooow..."
As Stella looked around the lower level of the royal tomb, a quiet gasp escaped her lips.
"It's enormous."
"It's unnecessarily enormous."
What lay beneath was a gigantic circular arena.
The walls were filled with murals and sculptures depicting the old empire.
And at the center stood a massive stone coffin.
I slowly approached it.
"...What is this?"
But only for a moment.
Sensing something strange, I examined the coffin again.
'It's empty?'
I swept it once more with demonic energy, but the result was the same.
The owner of this colossal tomb had never been here to begin with.
As if my thoughts weren't already complicated enough, things became even more confusing.
'Then what exactly have all those undead been protecting this whole time?'
I immediately scanned the surroundings.
The structure of the arena.
The undead stationed throughout the tomb.
The corridors that grew narrower the deeper one went, and the countless mechanical devices that still operated smoothly even after two hundred years.
"...This wasn't designed to stop outsiders from entering."
If anything, it was the opposite.
This tomb wasn't built to keep people out—
It was built to keep something inside from escaping.
A prison.
"Wait."
Stella's expression hardened as she stepped in front of me.
"There's something ahead."
At her words, I immediately focused forward.
Step. Step.
Footsteps echoed through the underground crypt where nobody should have been.
A resonance no living human could produce.
The footsteps of undead.
— I wondered who had brought the blood of the descendants.
Along with the deep voice of the dead, the owner of that voice slowly emerged.
A robe woven from rough hemp cloth.
The hands clutching rusted accessories and magical tools were nothing more than dried bones.
— But to think a necromancer would crawl into this place.
Unlike the other undead that had lost all sanity after becoming wraiths, this one still possessed reason.
"You've got to be kidding me."
I muttered in disbelief.
I had sensed the presence of a high-ranking undead, but this was beyond anything I expected.
"There's actually a Lich here?"
A Lich.
A high-ranking undead created when a mage seeking immortality transformed themselves into an undead being.
In exchange for eternal life, it endlessly devoured vitality.
— Why have you come here? To claim the undead within this tomb?
The Lich's voice rang out toward me.
Blue ghostly flames burned inside the empty sockets of its skull.
"That was the plan, but it doesn't look like getting permission will be easy."
— Hwahahahaha.
With a sinister laugh, the Lich's mana surged violently.
— What an unbearably arrogant brat.
Wooooong—!
Mana immediately began gathering in its hand.
But from the moment I sensed it, I had already prepared summoning gates of my own.
— First line, defend the front. Everyone else, prepare to fire.
Clatterrrr—!
Skeletons burst forth from every direction and instantly formed ranks at my command.
— Good, good. A fight is only worth enjoying if it's at least this much—!
But midway through speaking, the Lich faltered as it stared at my face.
— Wait...
Tilting its head, the Lich carefully examined me.
— There should only be one necromancer possessing a soul like this...
As though it recognized me, the light in its eyes slowly changed.
From hostility—
To shock.
— You... surely...?
'...You've got to be kidding me.'
A terrible premonition swept over my entire body.
Undead saw souls, not flesh.
And if this Lich had been alive two hundred years ago, then my identity back then would've been known across the continent.
Which meant that what the Lich saw before it now wasn't Klein Leinrant—
But Archimond.
— It was you!
Shit.
This was seriously bad.
Of all places, I had to encounter someone from my past life here?
— Of course! The only person on the continent who would try to break this seal is you!
Rage flared in the Lich's voice.
'Damn it. If I get exposed here, this becomes a disaster...!'
I remembered Stella standing behind me.
If my identity was revealed now, forget the pilgrimage—
The church factions I had worked so hard to divide would unite instantly just to kill me.
— The Devil of Heidelber—
The moment the Lich tried to say my name—
— Archi—!
Slash!
With a sharp cutting sound, the Lich's head dropped to the floor.
Thunk thunk thunk...
The sheer absurdity of it made strange noises escape my mouth.
What?
Did I just see that correctly?
As I stared blankly at the rolling head—
"I have no idea what Heidelber was supposed to mean, or why it called you a devil."
Thud.
The headless body of the Lich collapsed.
Standing there beside the fallen corpse, casually dusting off her hands, was Stella.
"It looked dangerous, so I killed it first. But what was that Lich trying to say?"
My lips twitched silently for a moment as I searched for words.
Then eventually—
"Who knows? I've got no idea either."
Doing everything I could to keep my smile from looking awkward, I agreed with her.
***
"That was way too close."
The Lich had gone down pathetically easily, but it wasn't actually dead.
Its body was merely a shell.
Somewhere within these ruins, its Life Vessel—the true core of its existence—was hidden.
"So we just need to find something like a jar, right?"
After hearing my explanation, Stella nodded and headed deeper into the ruins where the Lich had appeared.
"Good. Now that there are no more eyes watching us."
Once I confirmed Stella had disappeared from sight, I carved all kinds of runes into the Lich's corpse.
Fwaaaash—!
"Now I can relax."
The connection severed by holy power restored itself, and the Lich's severed head suddenly opened its eyes.
— Ghuuack?!
A scream burst from it as though it had come back from death itself.
The runes I had installed were functioning perfectly.
Its voice could no longer be heard by anyone except me.
— My body is merely a disposable shell! You'll regret attacking me so recklessly—!
But as the Lich continued speaking—
— W-What is this?!
It finally noticed its own condition and stared in horror at the fact that only its head remained.
— Archimond! What have you done to my body?!
"I adjusted the part connected to your Life Vessel a little. You won't be able to use mana anymore."
The moment I said that, the Lich desperately tried to force mana out in panic.
"An undead trying to act tough against a necromancer? Come on now."
As I spoke, I held the Rune of Submission directly in front of its face.
"Answer my questions obediently. Otherwise I'm engraving this into you."
A spell that erased the will of the soul.
The same method I had used on Hector before.
"Understood?"
The instant I asked, the Lich answered immediately.
Nod nod.
— Good. You learn quickly.
Watching the suddenly silent Lich, I formed a hand seal with a satisfied expression.
Crackle—!
— What is it you want, necromancer? This is not a place where you can simply barge in—!
"I said shut up."
I repeated myself and shrugged.
"The nun who chopped your head off earlier is going to bring back your heart. You know what happens then, right?"
A Lich whose heart had fallen into someone else's hands.
Hearing my words, the Lich looked toward its body lying sprawled on the floor and sank into despair.
— To end so meaninglessly...
A Lich that had survived for two hundred years, getting its head cut off without accomplishing anything.
'Even if holy power is the ultimate weakness of undead...'
I glanced toward the direction Stella had disappeared to and thought to myself:
'No wonder she's the priest's daughter. She's a monster too.'
At the same time, I lifted the Lich's head into the air and asked:
"Now then. Looks like you understand your situation, so shall we start talking?"
— Talking about what?
I answered the Lich's question.
"Why you were guarding this ownerless royal tomb."
— Ngh...!
At my question, the Lich's soul immediately fell silent.
"You know better than anyone that trying to hide it is pointless."
— Grrr...
...
I controlled its consciousness, while Stella possessed its Life Vessel.
Apparently realizing the hopelessness of its situation, the Lich let out a defeated sigh.
— Fine. Better this than being discovered by the empire or the church-state.
Muttering that, the Lich—or rather, Anghel's soul—guided me toward the stone coffin at the center.
Wooooong—!
As though sensing the Lich's soul, a small rune engraved on the coffin lit up.
The crest of the imperial family of the Aishingior Empire.
Seeing it, my eyes narrowed.
'A member of the imperial family—or at least a close confidant. And a mage, too.'
The fact that he knew my name meant he was from the same era.
Only one person came to mind.
"Anghel Roxanne."
The last court mage of the Aishingior Empire.
And the man who fled after the empire's final resistance, disappearing into some unknown cavern.
"So instead of hiding away, you were guarding this tomb all along?"
The absurdity of it all left me speechless.
The empire was collapsing, and yet they buried their court mage underground?
— No. Hiding away is exactly what I did.
The Lich—Anghel—let out a regretful sigh.
— It's just that the place I hid... happened to be this royal tomb.
Krrrrrr...
The lid of the massive stone coffin slowly opened, and the object inside floated upward.
"This is..."
What rose from the coffin was a stone slab made from the same material as the tomb entrance.
The writing carved into it was neither modern continental script nor the language of the old Aishingior Empire.
Ancient rune language.
A single spell whose power manifested merely by reading it.
[The dragon that devours the heavens lies in the west.]
[The serpent that coils around the world lies in the east.]
[The whale that swims through the earth lies in the south.]
The moment I read those words—
"What the actual hell...?"
A curse slipped out of my mouth immediately.
— One of the three great calamities said to have scorched the world before recorded history.
As the Lich spoke its name, I covered my face with one hand.
— Jormungandr.
Only now did I finally understand.
The fortress hidden underground.
The army of tens of thousands of mummies.
The thousands of Dullahans.
The Lich.
The reason all of this had been prepared.
"First the black dragon, and now a serpent too..."
And to think I'd discover this in what was supposed to be nothing more than a stopover point.
— It is not here. The slab merely points toward its location.
At those words, I carefully examined the floating stone slab.
The runes pointed toward three locations.
The west, ruled by the Wyverns.
The east, governed by Felician.
And finally, the Island of the Moon at the southernmost edge of the continent.
'This feels like an even bigger reward than the pilgrimage.'
As I stood there unable to take my eyes off the slab—
— What do you intend to do?
Raven's voice came from behind me.
"What do you mean what? I'm burying it again."
Unless I regained the support of the Ice Castle, I couldn't awaken those things or control them as I was now.
"The more I think about it, the crueler this feels."
With a complicated expression, I placed my hand against the slab.
"When I tried to use this two hundred years ago, it never showed itself. So what exactly am I supposed to do with it appearing now?"
If it was going to appear, it should've done so earlier.
Instead of accomplishment at uncovering the secret, irritation surged through me first.
'But...'
That wasn't the only reason I was irritated.
If this body someday reached the level I possessed in life...
If I returned there and activated the Ice Castle with the key...
If that happened, then this time—
— You could shatter the entire continent.
"...!"
At Raven's voice echoing inside my mind, I hurriedly pulled my hand away from the slab.
Raven.
The first knight of Berkel Leinrant.
He stared at me with heavy eyes.
— Do you wish to finish what you could not complete, Archimond?
His voice sounded almost provocative.
"And if I said yes? Planning to cut off my head from behind?"
I replied coldly with a smile.
— Impossible. Even if ours is a mutual contract, I am still a being bound to you.
Yet even beneath my icy glare, Raven merely shook his head slowly.
— Besides... neither Berkel nor the Continental Alliance exists in this era anymore.
Listening to him, I silently stared at the slab for a long moment.
"Tch."
But only for a moment.
Clicking my tongue briefly, I finally tore my gaze away from the floating slab.
"My revenge ended two hundred years ago."
No one knew that truth better than I did.
As if confirming it once more, Raven asked again:
— Do you truly believe that?
My voice did not waver in the slightest.
"Yeah, bastard."
I had screamed while clinging to everything I failed to protect.
I had gone mad with grief and rage and become a monster.
That sorrow.
That fury.
Even the sense of relief I felt when I fell beneath the sword of the knight who stopped me—
Every bit of it remained vivid enough to touch.
Too vivid to deny.
— ...Just as Berkel said.
Having said that, Raven seemed to steel his resolve and spoke to me again.
— Once everything here is finished, go to the Wall.
"What?"
Unable to understand what he meant, I asked back.
But with one final sentence, Raven dissolved his spiritual body.
— Berkel's last words are waiting for you there.