Chapter 653
Three days later, Neftis enforced the “special class”.
The very system of special classes wasn’t something urgent enough to be conducted right after the Dark Emperor, so a few professors who wanted to speed up their syllabus voiced complaints. But Neftis’ decision was unshakable.
Simon also kept a low profile until the day of the special class.
Especially that journalist, Wedian Benchinio, was persistent. Whenever Simon was speaking with someone, she would suddenly pop out and start hammering the button on her magical camera.
—Found you! Simon Follentia! You must have been conspiring with Ancient Undeads, weren’t you?!
—.......
Most recently, she had popped out of a roadside trash bin.
Onlookers reacted like, “What the hell is that idiot doing?”, but truthfully, Simon had felt his blood run cold more than once.
There were times when he was conversing telepathically with Feer’s avatar, or receiving regular reports from Erzebet through Corpse Spiders. At such times, if she happened to be sharp, it was a close call.
Of course, Simon didn’t just take it lying down. As a member of the student council, he contacted the contest organizers, requesting that they restrain journalists from forcing interviews or invading student privacy outside of contest-related matters. The organizers accepted.
But Wedian behaved as if she were driven by some sacred mission. Even after her superiors disciplined her, she didn’t quit. She even broke out of confinement during her detainment.
Because of her persistence, Simon found himself impatiently counting down the days until he could depart for the north.
And that day was today.
From early dawn, Simon visited Feer’s ruins.
“Everyone’s inside now, right?”
[Yes. It’s all done!]
It had been a long time since the Legion had moved on such a large scale.
Feer, Erzebet, Prince, Akemius, Herseba—and their core forces all entered a massive subspace. They would all head north together.
While the troops were moving, Feer completely sealed the entrance to the ruins with a barrier.
“That reporter won’t be able to break into the ruins, right?”
Simon asked nervously, but Feer laughed heartily.
[She’s just a regular human, not even a necromancer. Nothing to worry about, boy!]
Still, after being ambushed by her so many times, Simon felt like he was developing paranoia. Even a passing bird startled him now.
[Reporting, my Legion Commander.]
Crack!
From the tree above, Erzebet dropped down, hanging upside down by spider silk.
[That reporter wandered into the Forbidden Forest and got caught in the web traps my children set.]
Right on cue, her voice could be heard echoing in the distance.
—Let me go! Let me go, I said! If you think this will make me quit, you’re wrong!
[Shall I kill her? I can erase the corpse without leaving a single trace.]
Erzebet’s eyes gleamed with a murderous light, but Simon shook his head.
“If a reporter who was investigating me suddenly disappears, it’ll only make things more suspicious. Once we return from the north, there won’t be any outsiders around, so it’ll be fine.”
[If that is the Legion Commander’s will, this girl shall obey.]
Of course, Simon was still uneasy. Leaving behind an Ancient Undead to guard the ruins would have been reassuring, but the whole point of going north was for the “Legion Commander Class”.
If even one of them stayed behind, it would lose its meaning. The goal was to raise the capability of all the Ancient Undeads at once.
Simon opened the massive subspace one last time, letting Erzebet and Feer inside, then stepped forward.
‘Let’s go, to the north!’
* * *
The North
In the Dark Alliance, when one thought of cold regions, the Shahed Kingdom usually came to mind. But since much of the Shahed Kingdom’s territory was in northern lands, calling it simply “the north” was ambiguous.
When people in the Dark Alliance mentioned “the north,” what most of the continent thought of was the northern Calos.
There stood the famous Duke of the North, humanity’s hero, guarding Bilkenos Castle and the Frost Field.
The monsters and undeads of Frost Field were vicious beyond comparison. Some individuals were powerful enough to burn down a fiefdom singlehandedly, and they frequently invaded human lands to prey on their staple food: mankind.
Thus, Frost Field was humanity’s front line against these horrors, a land no army in history had ever conquered.
At the same time, it was barren land with a frigid climate unfit for proper agriculture, a troublesome territory.
And that was exactly where Simon arrived.
‘So this is it!’
As soon as he stepped through the last teleportation array to his final destination, the sound of rattling wagon wheels echoed around him.
It wasn’t the picture-perfect snowy northern cityscape one might imagine.
The ground was a muddy slop with patches of snow. People coughed and spat, the air smelled of horse dung, and bearded men with axes or halberds strode past.
The atmosphere could be summed up in one word: battlefield.
It felt like stepping into a military encampment. Everyone was busily moving about.
‘It’s bigger than I thought.’
This was the very heart of northern Carlos, the most developed city of the north, Bilkenos.
Far ahead, Simon saw the towering outer wall encircling the entire city. Beyond it, jagged white snowy peaks rose into the sky.
The scenery looked beautiful at a glance, but the thought of how many monsters and undeads infested those mountains sent a chill down his spine.
‘Let’s go.’
The direction was obvious: the tallest building dominating the city skyline—the inner castle at Bilkenos’ center. That was where the Duke lived.
Rustle—
As he walked, Simon pulled a letter from his coat. It bore the seal of Keyzen and was even written by Neftis herself.
Simon recalled their conversation.
—Oh, by the way, I didn’t get permission from the Duke to send you there!
When he first heard that, Simon felt his heart sink.
—Then… I’m not going as a guest, but as an intruder?
This special class was still officially part of Keyzen’s curriculum, with its conditions and missions. Slacking off wasn’t an option, he’d be flirting with a semi-expulsion-level handicap.
Seeing his panicked expression, Neftis smiled.
—Hey, no need to worry. Just earn the Duke’s recognition!
With that, she handed him the letter.
—It might feel daunting at first, but once you earn the recognition of the north and its Duke, things will get much easier. Here! As long as the Duke reads this letter, everything will go smoothly!
Returning to the present, Simon tucked the letter carefully back inside his coat.
The die was already cast. Whether it ended in failure or success, he had no choice but to face the Duke.
In truth, Simon was deeply curious as well.
He had met several Saints of the Holy Federation, but among the seven Legion Commanders who opposed them, he had only encountered Magnus.
‘And now, humanity’s hero, huh.’
A legend who had held back the expansion of Frost Field, one of the fiercest battlefronts on the entire continent, for decades—defending the North.
Simon wanted to know the power and experience of such a man. He wanted to know what kind of person he was, and also which Ancient Undeads he possessed.
If by chance the Duke coveted Simon’s Ancient Undeads, there might be a fight. But both Neftis and Feer agreed for once: “He’s not that kind of man.”
If those two drew such a firm line, Simon felt he could trust it.
Thud!
Lost in thought, Simon suddenly bumped shoulders with someone.
“Hey! You should watch where you’re going!”
A burly man grinned coarsely, eyebrows raised, gripping a battleaxe larger than his own torso.
His companions also smirked as they walked past.
‘What the hell was that about?’
Before Simon could say anything, a troop of undead soldiers surged between them.
Clatter!
Clatter-clatter!
More than twenty fully armed skeletons hurried down the street. Simon’s eyes were immediately drawn to them.
‘Wait a second… who’s controlling those?’
They weren’t Natural Undead. They clearly seemed under a necromancer’s command, yet there wasn’t a necromancer in sight.
The undead moved as though following a predetermined route, marching straight down the road.
‘Fascinating.’
Simon longed to unravel the secret of these northern undead, but finding the Duke came first. For now, he pushed down his curiosity and kept walking.
“Hey, Reker! You planning to smash down my house?!”
“Ah, sorry about that!”
“Hahaha! Raising hell from broad daylight, huh!”
The northerners all looked like descendants of dwarves—thick-bodied, muscular, and hairy.
Besides them, various races discriminated against elsewhere on the continent were common here. Cat beastmen leapt effortlessly across rooftops. A bull-like beastman with fur-covered arms snorted in amusement as he glanced at Simon.
Though busy, people still gave Simon sidelong glances, clearly aware he was an outsider.
“Excuse me, which road leads to the Duke’s castle?”
At his question, the beastmen vanished like wary cats, avoiding him.
So Simon wandered on, slogging through muddy roads.
‘Ah.’
At last, he arrived at the inner castle.
It wasn’t exactly a luxurious residence for the man second in power only to the King of Carlos. Rough gray walls and towering pillars jutted upward like mountains, with rooster-shaped ornaments dangling from the rooftops.
Simon hesitated in front of the castle.
‘Whatever happens, I’ll face it head-on.’
The Duke wasn’t someone he could expect to just stumble upon waiting politely. He would have to meet him directly, proudly, face to face.
Just as Simon moved toward the castle gate—
BWOOOOOO—!
Suddenly, a horn’s blare rang out.
The sound spread quickly across the city, echoed by horns answering from residential quarters.
Simon covered his ears.
‘What’s going on?!’
Thunderrrr—
The ground trembled. The sound of hooves grew sharper as something poured down the castle’s slope.
It was mounted undead.
‘Don’t tell me those are all Dullahan?!’
Upon Skeleton Horses that billowed Darkness like smoke, rode knights clad in black armor.
Their necks were hollow, their heads replaced by ghostly flames that blazed where skulls should be.
Those flames even took on jack-o’-lantern-like faces. Each one carried an enormous lance, and northern banners fluttered among them.
Clank!
Clank!
Hundreds of undead cavalry lined up in flawless formation, the sight chilling Simon’s bones.
[Those aren’t Dullahan. They’re a special breed called “Phantom Dullahan”!]
Feer explained.
[They don’t occur naturally—they are born only from Ancient Undeads. That must be the Duke’s own elite troops: the undefeated undead knight order!]
They indeed looked far different from regular Dullahan constructed through Guardians.
Clop—clop—
Then it happened. A towering knight on a Skeleton Horse thundered past Simon. He instantly sensed it.
‘An Ancient Undead!’
Cold sweat trickled down his back.
This seemed to be the general of the Phantom Dullahan. But where the severed neck should have been, there was nothing. Instead—the Skeleton Horse’s face was human.
The knight’s head was fused with the horse’s—grotesque beyond words.
The Ancient Undead didn’t even glance at Simon, simply joining its troops. The cavalry parted as if opening a path for Moses, raising their lances.
Clank!
Clank!
As their lance tips pointed skyward, Darkness streamed upward like smoke. Every motion was precise, disciplined, terrifying—like a black tide writhing.
And then—two hooves echoed differently.
Clop—clop—
Someone appeared between the ranks.
A man clad in flawless full plate armor.
The instant Simon saw him, every Phantom Dullahan and even the Ancient Undead vanished from his awareness.
The sheer force of spirit.
Could such an aura really come from a human? Even standing near him made Simon’s blood boil as if ignited.
There was no doubt. This was the famed Duke of the North—Jin Arskalt.
[The battle status.]
A cold voice resounded from within the helm.
“The enemy’s undead forces are attempting to break into Dondra.”
[We’ll pierce through to Dondra within an hour.]
Simon hesitated—but then clenched his teeth. Now or never. He might not get another chance.
“Excuse me for a moment!”
Simon boldly approached the Duke.
The Duke’s gaze shifted to him.
[Who are you.]
From between the helm, ominous eyes glimmered.
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