Chapter 673
Still, since they offered him a seat, it felt too rude to reject them outright, so Simon sat down for now.
A war necromancer and a frontline commander. They were not people Simon could deal with lightly.
‘…Strange, though.’
This was nothing more than an inn’s dining hall, yet the scenery outside the window kept changing—city streets, a lake, the middle of a desert. It seemed to shift according to the whims and moods of Chronos, the war necromancer.
He even reproduced the wind, humidity, and smell. It was illusion magic of an extremely high level. Simon judged it to be the most remarkable illusion he had seen, second only to Seiyur’s.
“Junior, what year are you in again?”
Chronos asked casually.
“Second year, sir.”
“Oh~ really? Then you’re halfway through now.”
The moment Chronos called him ‘junior’, Simon had a hunch, but sure enough, Chronos turned out to be a former Keyzen student. From what he heard, Chronos dropped out early in his second year.
According to him, during a mission evaluation in Carlos, he discovered he loved this kind of work far more, so he ditched school and immediately found employment.
“If you’re curious about life in Keyzen, ask me anything!”
Chronos slapped Simon on the shoulder and laughed heartily. Simon followed with an awkward smile.
‘We probably spent about the same amount of time in Keyzen anyway.’
“Enough small talk.”
Romario cleared his throat, his thick white eyebrows twitching with authority.
“Before we get to the point, I am curious: why is a Keyzen student wandering alone in such a perilous region?”
Simon’s head snapped around.
Was it bothersome to them that a Keyzen student had entered the northern territories?
Even Count Voldemont tried to recruit him first thing.
Since he couldn’t gauge their true intent, Simon decided to draw a line.
“I must ask for your understanding, but extracurricular assignments are classified. I cannot discuss the details.”
“Ehh~ don’t be so cold.”
Chronos waved his wrist dismissively.
“Can’t you at least say whether it’s a mission evaluation or a field assignment? It’s not like anyone’s going to punish you for telling us that much.”
“I’m with the student council, senior.”
Simon put on a perfect business smile.
“If the student council doesn’t uphold principles, who else will?”
At that, Chronos paused, then burst into cheerful laughter.
“Hahaha! You’ve got a sharp tongue and won’t give an inch! No wonder you’re Student Council President—takes a special one to fill that role!”
Romario shot Chronos a look as if to tell him to shut up.
“Very well. I won’t press that matter further. The reason we called you here is to seek your cooperation.”
“Cooperation?”
“Yes, and in return—”
Romario flicked his arm, and runes lit up along the inn’s walls as a magic circle activated.
A soundproofing spell for security.
“—His Majesty the King will compensate you.”
The sheer scale of the conversation made sweat run down Simon’s spine.
‘I shouldn’t have sat down.’
He hadn’t expected them to invoke the king directly.
Even in this era of the Dark Alliance, the power of the four reigning kings on the continent was still overwhelming.
Ordinary nobles wouldn’t even have the luxury to express their own will. They’d have collapsed to their knees the moment a royal command was mentioned. In Carlos, even foreign nobles weren’t free from the king’s authority.
‘One wrong word could be interpreted as defiance against a royal decree.’
The only safe route here was to give the most orthodox answer possible.
“I’m merely a student following orders from Keyzen. If you wish for cooperation on this mission, please file a formal request with the school.”
He used Keyzen as his shield.
King or not, in the face of Keyzen and Neftis, all else paled. What could anyone say against being a student of Neftis?
And his position as Student Council President gave him the authority to cling to principle in dealings with adults.
Whether effective or not, Romario’s expression darkened slightly.
“Fine, fine. Then as a dropout senior, let me give you some advice.”
Chronos suddenly cut in.
“Right now, school probably feels like your whole world, doesn’t it? Professors seem incredible, you’re running yourself ragged with assignments, and if your ranking drops even once it feels like the world is ending. But once you step outside? It’s all meaningless.”
His tone carried a faint bitterness.
“School lasts only three years at most. Whether you flunk out or scrape by to graduation, the moment you’re out, you’re shoved back to your original station. You kids sneer at the lowest-ranked squads now, right? Later, you’ll be bowing to those same idiots. And that pretty little duke’s daughter calling you ‘senior, senior’ now? Three years later, she’ll be using you as her footrest.”
He brushed back his drooping bangs.
“The point is, you’ve got to carve out your own survival. School is just a stepping stone. Think of your three years at Keyzen as nothing more than a chance to mingle with people you’d never even dare look in the eye otherwise. Build connections, lay your groundwork, secure your path after graduation and you won’t need to stick it out all three years.”
Then, with a snap, he pointed at Simon’s forehead.
“And that’s why this chance to connect with our king is something you shouldn’t throw away. If things go well, I could even—”
“If that’s all you have to say,”
Clatter—
Simon rose from his seat.
“—I’ll be going.”
Without hesitation, he turned coldly and headed up the stairs to the guest rooms.
Chronos and Romario stared after his retreating back until the distant sound of a door shutting echoed. Only then did they look at each other.
“Didn’t you say you were confident in handling Keyzen brats?”
Romario’s tone was scolding.
“Sometimes you get kids like that.”
Chronos scratched his head.
“Ones who refuse to acknowledge reality, no matter what you tell them. Let’s just say we didn’t match wavelengths.”
Snap!
Chronos flicked his fingers.
The soundproofing magic expanded, and the inn glowed red, sealing Simon’s room and the lobby apart completely. No sound would get through now.
“Hey~ innkeeper. Another beer here.”
“Yes, sir!”
“And another plate of roast quail.”
“Right away.”
The innkeeper couple shuffled off to the kitchen, their eyes glazed as though under a curse. Romario sighed.
“You’re not returning to camp? Planning to drink more here?”
“This place has good food. What’s the point of going back to camp for that same old soup? I’d rather enjoy this.”
Chronos tore into a quail leg and washed it down with a hefty gulp of beer.
“Ahhh, perfect.”
He grinned as he set the cup down.
“So, what’s next?”
“I never had much hope of recruiting Keyzen’s Student Council President. We proceed as originally planned.”
Chronos shook his head.
“Why don’t we just crush this place with our strength? We’ve entered Bilkenos without bloodshed—why not seize the opportunity?”
“Don’t underestimate the Grand Duke’s might. She has defended the north alone for over twenty years. She is a true hero. And without her, who would slay the North Star?”
Chronos shrugged.
“But isn’t that ‘Three Brothers’ gone now? I’m sure we could take down the North Star ourselves.”
“We don’t even know the road to the North Star yet. We must wait until the Grand Duke guides us.”
Tch.
Chronos clicked his tongue in dissatisfaction.
Just then, the food arrived, and the two ate leisurely.
“Speaking of Keyzen.”
Chronos began,
“These days I’m praised as the ‘Necromancer of Ten Thousand Troops’, right?”
Chronos, the Necromancer of Ten Thousand Troops.
His specialty was wide-area curses targeting up to ten thousand at once.
He cursed allies, not enemies—erasing fear and distractions, reducing them to killing machines, or forcibly awakening latent abilities to push their strength several times beyond normal.
Any army he commanded had never once been defeated.
Of course, no soldier had ever returned with body and mind intact either.
“But back in Keyzen, I was nothing. Whether duels or missions, wide-area curses for allies were useless.”
“That makes sense.”
Chronos stretched his arm.
“But once I joined the army, I blossomed. Now there’s only one step left.”
He ran his tongue slowly across his lips.
"To become a Legion Commander! If I personally command the Infinite Army and cast curses, then an invincible Undead Army will be born, right? Can you even imagine how strong it would be?"
Romario closed his eyes.
"Are the Summoned Undead you command not enough?"
"The heavens are heartless. Born with such an ability, yet I was hopeless in Summonology."
Chronos chuckled self-deprecatingly.
"Maximum number of undead I can move: three. A despairing figure. And even now, that number has never risen."
"Regrettable."
"I consider it the curse laid upon me."
He flicked his tongue and stared at Romario.
"Keep the promise, Romario."
"What promise?"
"If by some chance―truly by the slimmest chance―the Grand Duke dies in this war―"
"Then the 2nd Legion will be yours. Though it lacks much in realism."
Heh heh heh.
Chronos shook his shoulders, laughing.
Then slumped down.
"It’s exhausting. If only we could just find the 7th Legion Commander, everything would be solved so much more easily."
"Do you mean the Traitor Legion’s Commander who stirred up trouble in Keyzen this time?"
"Yeah, even my friends are subtly searching for him. All wanting to become Legion Commander."
Chronos leaned back, muttering irritably.
"Ah, damn! Why doesn’t the 7th Legion Commander just drop out of the sky!"
At that moment―whooom! The barrier quivered.
Without even turning around, Chronos snapped his fingers. Instantly, someone stepped inside the reddened inn barrier.
"It is good to see you again, Commander Romario, Lord Chronos."
Chronos grinned and waved.
"You came?"
Romario also nodded.
"Come in."
The one who entered was none other than Count Voldemont.
"I have something urgent to propose."
* * *
The next morning.
A tense air hovered over the North.
A sharp atmosphere could be felt everywhere. The Northerners, who were usually drinking noisily and dueling, had halted all such activity, and were casting cold gazes at the Kingdom Army camped on the outskirts.
To prevent further chaos, the Grand Duke had preemptively ordered the warriors not to provoke the Kingdom Army. Romario likewise instructed the soldiers to stay in their barracks and avoid unnecessary movement.
Still, there were northern warriors who couldn’t control their temper and tried to pick fights with the soldiers. If others hadn’t stopped them, serious battles might have broken out more than once.
Amid this unrest, Simon still went to the Grand Duke’s castle and focused on his Legion Commander training.
The Three Brothers were dead, and the remnants had been dealt with, so she no longer needed to shoot the Bow of Tempest. She devoted herself to teaching Simon instead.
"Begin."
That day, Simon practiced freely controlling Legion-type undead from long distances.
‘Feel it. Even without directly linking to the undead, you can command them with thought, like a scent carried on the wind.’
Simon scattered his skeletons throughout the city and gave them missions to buy items.
The residents, accustomed to the Grand Duke’s undead, willingly handed goods to skeletons holding notes and bundles of money.
But the marketplace was complicated, crowded, and full of variables.
"…I told you to buy arrows."
He had ordered a skeleton to buy arrows from the forge, but what it carried was a huge fish caught from the northern lake.
The Grand Duke chuckled.
"Better this way. Today’s lunch will be fish."
There were many errors. At first, Simon often forgot or lost the mental link with the skeletons, but over time, he adapted.
Later, Simon even demonstrated reassembling a skeleton that had been smashed in the crowd, remotely restoring it with Restoration.
Gathering all the purchased goods, they took a short rest.
‘Ah.’
From the marketplace, Simon spotted Kingdom soldiers.
Their morale didn’t look high. Their eyes were sunken, cheeks hollow, and bodies frail.
The Grand Duke also saw them.
"That is the work of Chronos’ curse."
Chronos was a meticulous war necromancer who cast broad curses over entire armies. All soldiers grew stronger, but since it was power granted by curses instead of priestly blessings, the side effects were inevitable.
"No different from a necromancer handling undead."
Said the Grand Duke. Seeing the lifeless, will-drained soldiers, Simon nodded.
"Will it really be alright? This campaign against the North Star?"
"It will."
The Grand Duke answered calmly.
"No matter what happens, I am here. If they show the slightest sign of scheming, I’ll erase them without a trace. And if they faithfully assist us, I’ll simply share a portion of Frost Field’s rights with them."
She closed her eyes.
"What matters now is only the North Star. Do not concern yourself with other things, but focus on improving your ability."
"Yes!"
Simon smiled brightly.
"And while speaking with your disciple, could you not look me in the eyes?"
"…I did once, earlier."
Her strange condition still persisted.
Just then―
"Grand Duke."
Steward Godrick rushed in personally. After greeting Simon with a nod, he whispered into the Grand Duke’s ear.
Her expression grew serious.
"So it is, Hate."
"?"
Simon blinked at the two of them.
* * *
Whoooosh!
The northern mountain range.
Among the unmoving corpses of the North Star’s undead, a faceless knight kept watch on the front.
Step.
It was Hate, Master of the 2nd Legion.
From his vantage point, far beyond the mountains, a pitch-black abyssal hole could be seen.
[Location of the Abyss confirmed. I shall return.]
Hate issued the command and turned his mount. The 2nd Legion’s Phantom Dullahans began descending the snowy mountains with him.
[…]
And from atop a tree, a single ghoul watched their retreat.
The ghoul’s thoughts stirred.
Srrrrrr―
Through a narrow, tunnel-like passage.
To the farthest depths of thought.
[Leave them. They shall soon come of their own accord.]
The voice of the one who ruled over all the undead of the North resounded.
Srrr―
From the darkness, glowing eyes opened.
[I shall be waiting. Son of Yona.]
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