**Chapter Twenty-One: The Weak**
A blinding light, so intense it seemed to swallow even the sunlight, flickered repeatedly. A roar of rage, so powerful that it sent shivers through my body and awakened my instincts of impending death, reverberated through the forest. The light obliterated the mansion, and the darkness that spilled forth trampled over the world.
It was a battle worthy of myth.
I hid in the branches of a massive tree at the edge of the forest behind the mansion, observing the chaos unfold.
The Necromancer could sense the location of his undead minions. While the precision of his awareness was not particularly high, I couldn’t afford to distance myself too far from the mansion, lest the Lord notice my presence.
Not until the Lord was dead.
The creature birthed by the Lord was a colossal black dragon.
It was likely that Fang had served as the catalyst. Its dark body evoked the very essence of shadow, with muscles that rippled like veins across its form. Its tail stretched like a shadow, easily demolishing the mansion, while the black flames unleashed from its maw engulfed the surroundings like a tidal wave, incinerating everything in their path.
This monster was unlike any undead I had witnessed under the Lord’s command. Its soul burned a deep black, hinting at an abyss that could consume light itself, a stark contrast to the others. Had I known the Lord possessed such a trump card beforehand, I would have approached the situation with far more caution.
Yet, that massive, dark form was effortlessly obliterated by an overwhelming surge of light. I was certain that even a mere brush with that force would spell my end a hundred times over. An immense energy of life extinguished the dragon’s breath, incinerating most of its colossal body and consuming the Lord in the process, continuing its path and piercing through mere meters from the tree where I hid.
The one responsible for this was a small girl—one person.
Senri. The second-tier End Knight stood her ground before the world-devouring dragon, swinging her sword without retreat.
The energy enveloping Senri diminished with each strike, yet it seemed to replenish itself as if by magic. The Lord was unfathomable, but so was Senri. If this was the power of a second-tier Knight, I could only imagine the might of a First-Class Knight.
The dragon, its body mostly obliterated, regenerated in an instant, returning to its original form. The Lord, who should have been consumed by the light, remained eerily calm.
The Lord’s furious voice clashed with the roars of Senri’s companions.
Advantage, disadvantage. I could not discern which side held the upper hand.
I was weak. Among those present, I was the weakest by far. A blow from the dragon’s tail or a strike of light would reduce me to dust. The regenerative abilities I had gained as a ghoul would prove useless against such overwhelming power.
Yet, despite this, I remained calm. I had long since accepted my own weakness. This was the only course of action I could take. And that decision was a matter of life and death.
Even now, as the assault unfolded, the battle remained in a stalemate. If I had given the Lord more time to prepare, he might have easily dispatched Senri.
The End Knights were the strongest. I had read countless tales of their exploits while bedridden, and I held that belief firmly. In my plans, I had expected Senri and her companions to dispatch the Lord with greater ease. Even if the Lord possessed one hundred twenty lives, they were seasoned fighters against such a necromancer.
I tightened the collar of my sunshade cloak and gripped my shadow amulet.
I was not betting on the Lord. I was betting on Senri.
I judged that it would be easier to escape from the End Knight than from the Lord, who possessed numerous privileges, including absolute authority over me. If I, as a ghoul, could still move under the sunlight, if I retained my reason, if I could conceal my negative presence with the amulet, then I could scatter the Order of the Final Knights.
I wagered everything. If the Lord were to win—he would surely harbor discomfort towards me for not returning as ordered. Before he realized that the Order had not reached me, I had no choice but to believe he was exhausted and strike.
The sounds of battle never ceased. The mansion where I had spent nearly a year as an undead crumbled around me.
To flames. To light. To swords. To the dragon’s strike.
I watched in silence, recalling Ruu.
—
The sun hung high in the sky. And at last, the moment had arrived.
A voice echoed before me as I lay hidden.
“HAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”
“NO WAY!?”
Senri let out her first roar.
From her silver sword erupted a colossal light reminiscent of another sun, incinerating the dark dragon. It was a miracle. Her voice carried the weight of life. There was no way Senri, who had unleashed energy in rapid succession, could wield such immense power. Yet, she did.
The dragon, perhaps attempting to shield the Lord, spread its wings wide but was reduced to dust without a chance to react. The light faded. Among the rubble, only Senri, kneeling, and her battered companions remained.
And then—
“Impossible… Why… such power… it cannot be…”
The Lord groaned, his expression twisted in disbelief. The dragon showed no signs of revival.
Its body began to turn to dust from its feet. Had it exhausted all one hundred twenty lives? The staff slipped from his grasp as he stared blankly at his vanishing hand.
There was no fear in his expression. Without tears or cries, the Lord remained the image of the necromancer I had envisioned until the very end.
Senri, breathing heavily, fixed her sharp gaze on the fading enemy.
Sweat clung to her silver hair. It seemed she had indeed exhausted her strength, for I could no longer sense any energy from her.
“This is… the end.”
“How frustrating. If only my wish had been fulfilled, you would have… if only it were… night… ah—”
And just like that, the Lord vanished, without uttering a curse at the one who had destroyed him, without even looking her in the eye, disappearing as if everything had been an illusion. Nothing remained. His robe turned to dust along with his body, leaving only the staff that lay on the ground as proof of his existence.
I had won. I had won the wager. The Lord had been both benefactor and natural enemy, a formidable foe I could never hope to defeat.
There was no sense of achievement. No great resentment lingered. Perhaps that was why I felt a twinge of loneliness alongside my relief.
I was the sole survivor. No one could bind me anymore.
Senri and her companions from the Order of the Final Knights were exhausted. Yet, I had no intention of attacking.
Perhaps due to their fatigue, Senri suddenly collapsed, as if the strings holding her had snapped. One of her companions caught her, wearing a bemused smile.
The presence of comrades—this was the significant difference between the Lord and Senri’s group.
The Lord had minions but no true allies. If the Lord had had companions, how might the battle have changed?
No, there was no point in speculating. The Lord had given his all, adhered to his beliefs, and had ultimately fallen. I had no right to speak.
One of the End Knights picked up the staff left behind by the Lord, effortlessly snapping it in two before incinerating it with light.
Supported by her companions, Senri and her group departed the ruins of the mansion. I remained still, watching them leave.
I stayed until their presence faded completely.
—
Once I confirmed that no one remained, I leaped down from the tree.
After spending several hours perched above, my body felt stiff. Stretching my spine, I made my way toward the remnants of the mansion.
The mansion had been utterly destroyed. The roof and walls lay in ruins, devoid of any trace of undead or living presence.
Even if, by some miracle, it hadn’t been destroyed, I couldn’t remain here. This was the stronghold of the Necromancer.
The End Knights had retreated for now, but once they regained their strength, they would surely return to clean up the aftermath of the mansion. In tales, the lairs of necromancers were often set ablaze.
Now, what should I do?
I was a ghoul. I knew no luxury, and any life would be better than my previous one, so I was confident I could survive as long as I had raw meat. Unlike typical undead, I had no intention of attacking humans. However, I would need to live without drawing attention to myself.
One thing was certain: I had to leave this forest immediately. The End Knights showed no mercy. If I were discovered, death would be inevitable.
But before fleeing, I had a promise to keep.
Ruu’s body lay beneath the rubble where the former hallway had been.
Miraculously, her body showed no significant damage. The silver arrow that had pierced her chest, purifying the darkness, was likely the cause of her death.
I wiped the blood from her lips. Her expression was peaceful, as if she were merely sleeping.
Had she ever worn such a serene expression in her previous life?
At least, the looks she had given me were always filled with anger or fear.
From her corpse emanated an enticing, fragrant aroma. For a ghoul, a human corpse was a feast.
But I had no intention of eating. I had never consumed a human.
“I… am a man of my word, even so. You need not worry.”
I gripped the silver arrow tightly. White smoke rose from my hand, and a sharp pain coursed through me—one I hadn’t felt since becoming undead. With sheer force, I pulled it out and discarded it, then hoisted Ruu’s lifeless body onto my shoulder.
Ruu’s physical form felt incredibly light. I couldn’t tell if it was because something essential had been stripped away from her as a human, or if my own strength had simply increased.
Her soul was surely no longer here.
Ruu was destined to die. She had sensed it herself and would have met her end somewhere else if not here. She lacked the vitality to live, yet she also didn’t possess the courage to embrace death.
She was far too weak. Thus, I understood what she sought from me.
Upon hearing my proposal, Ruu shed tears. She referred to me as the object of her hidden desires, the one who had unveiled the wishes of a weakling.
There had been a chance. I had suggested saving her, and perhaps there was a way to help her. In truth, the Lord had kept Ruu close until the very last moment, leaving me powerless. However, when I proposed to escort Ruu to the city, she had the option to nod in agreement.
Yet, she lacked even that much strength.
Ah, how ironic it was that I, who had once died and returned from the grave, burned with a desire for life, while she, still living, had lost all will to fight.
I spoke to Ruu, who lay sleeping with a look of relief on her face, as if she had found peace in death.
“Just as I promised—I’ll make you a grave. And while I’m at it, I’ll pray for your peaceful rest. You’re glad you made a contract with me, right?”
§
Regrettably, there was no time to search for a proper burial site.
I could only manage to get her outside the estate’s confines. Well, since we hadn’t made any promises about the location, I supposed it didn’t matter. Ruu must have known that I wasn’t the type to fuss over graves. I understood her feelings as a weakling, but I never truly empathized with them.
Once outside the enclosure, I chose a spot that at least had some sunlight and began to dig a hole. Thankfully, Ruu’s body wasn’t particularly large. Using scraps of wood from the remnants of the estate, I dug a hole just deep enough to accommodate her form comfortably, then placed her body inside. I gently laid some flowers I had picked nearby on her chest.
I regretted that there was no time for cremation. However, with the evil necromancer gone, there was little chance of her being raised as an undead.
“Sorry about this. I’m not well-versed in burial customs… I’ve been buried before, but I don’t remember much of it.”
As I made excuses, I carefully covered Ruu’s body with soil. It was certainly better than being forced to work for the Lord after becoming undead. As her legs and body were buried, only her face remained visible.
I hesitated on how to say my final farewell, ultimately opting for my usual words.
“Ruu, you’re luckier than the Lord. At least you get a grave. Well, I think the Lord brought this upon himself…”
I buried her face firmly in the earth and compacted the soil. Standing up, I felt a twinge of sadness; this hardly felt like a proper grave. More importantly, if I ever decided to visit her resting place in the future, I wouldn’t even remember where I had buried her.
I should leave this place quickly, but I feared that Ruu’s spirit might scold me for not giving her a proper burial. If she were to accuse me of breaking my promise after I had gone this far, I wouldn’t be able to face her.
I hesitated for a moment but then remembered something useful and returned to the ruins of the estate. The silver arrow.
I bore the pain as I retrieved the silver arrow I had pulled out earlier and drove it into the ground where Ruu lay. Silver is said to ward off evil. While it wasn’t a cross, I feared that if I fashioned it into one, I might mutate and become weak, making it impossible for me to visit her grave in the future.
Additionally, I brought back a relatively clean and large stone from the remnants of the estate and used my claws to carve Ruu’s name into it. Not knowing her second name left me feeling a bit lonely, so I reluctantly inscribed my previous life’s second name instead. It was better than nothing, I figured.
I wasn’t entirely sure if I had spelled Ruu’s name correctly, but I hoped for her understanding.
Finally, satisfied with my work, I clasped my hands together and prayed. Surely, I was the first to pray for a dead person who had become undead.
Please—may Ruu rest in peace.
“What are you… doing?”
“!?”
At that moment, I heard a voice from behind—one that should not have been there. I cut my prayer short and slowly turned around. My fingertips trembled as if a knife were pressed against my throat.
I turned to face the source of the voice, praying not for Ruu, but for my own sake.
There stood Senri, who had just departed with the others, gazing at me with piercing eyes.