**Chapter Twenty-Three: The Phantom**
It was impossible. Horos Carmen had perished at Senri’s hands. He had exhausted every means, even summoning a wicked dragon to resist, only to vanish into the light with ease.
Yet, floating before me was undeniably Horos Carmen. His form was pale blue, with outlines that faintly shimmered, embodying the very essence of the Horos from a previous life—his staff, which should have been shattered by holy power, and the robe that had vanished along with his physical body.
However, the aura surrounding him was astonishingly faint to someone who knew the Horos of that previous life. After all, the Horos I knew would never float in the air like this.
The Lord crossed his arms and spoke with an air of pretentiousness. His voice was not a sound in the traditional sense, yet I could hear it clearly.
“Surely, my physical form has perished… But, the fragments of my soul that I had prepared in advance have proven useful…”
“……..”
I was on the brink of death. Regaining my composure, I tightened my grip on the hatchet and assessed the current situation.
This was the Lord’s final contingency plan. During the battle with Senri, the Lord had undoubtedly exerted his full power. Whether this was a fragment of his soul or a resurrection as a spirit, the Lord before me was merely a remnant.
How cautious a necromancer could be! A terrifying practitioner capable of deceiving even the experienced Senri and the Order of the Final Knights.
Could I win…? The question was whether any privileges remained for me. If they were still present, I would—
No, I would win.
As I calmly observed the Lord, I solidified my resolve within my heart. Otherwise, what was the point of using the Order of the Final Knights to bring about the Lord’s demise?
I had maneuvered cleverly without taking direct action. It was time to handle this myself.
Very well, I would do it.
I opened my eyes wide and gazed up at the Lord. The information Senri had mentioned about the “King of the Dead” echoed in my mind.
The Lord’s past words and actions came flooding back. He had referred to me as the vessel for the “King of the Dead.” Yes, the vessel!
Even a fool could understand. If Senri’s words were true, then the Lord’s objective was—
“Lord… You survived.”
“End, I had embedded my final soul fragment within you. It was necessary for the ritual. Your survival is fortunate.”
He embedded it in me… And that’s how I’m still alive.
There was no hint of doubt in the Lord’s words. It seemed he had not overheard my conversation with Senri. Perhaps he had been dormant until nightfall, until that power could be heightened. If that were the case, there was still a chance.
“Wait a moment… Then why did you intend to use me in the battle against the Order of the Final Knights? Wouldn’t it be a problem if I died?”
“Ah? It seems there is a misunderstanding. I did not intend to use you, the vessel of the King of the Dead, in battle.”
“……..”
That was… unexpected. Indeed, upon reflection, the Lord had never given me such instructions. The directive given at the last moment had been to return to the hall, and perhaps he had intended to issue an order to conceal me after that.
But it was fine. Regardless, my decision remained unchanged.
This time, I would ensure the Lord’s death.
“I shall perform the ritual. The birth of the King of the Dead… Hmph… There are lingering concerns, as it deviates from the original plan, but it cannot be helped… My life is now but a remnant. Hehehe…”
Even at this stage, the Lord still laughed defiantly. I steadied my breath. The opportunity would likely come only once.
In the darkness of night, the Lord floated boldly, issuing orders with arrogance.
“End, your physical form is… a masterpiece. My soul is the final key… When my long-held wish is fulfilled, you will become a king who overwhelms all that is connected to the light. End, resistance is not permitted. Halt your movements.”
Under the Lord’s command, I found myself unable to move. Horos Carmen’s movements were slow. He had not employed any spirit-based undead techniques, so I had never seen a wraith, but if the descriptions in the bestiary were accurate, it would be something like this.
Horos descended, radiating a pale blue light, approaching me. What would happen the moment he touched me? It was a terrifying thought. Yet, I was not afraid. My hands did not tremble.
Such moments would never come—
Horos came within a meter of me, entering my attack range. I tightened my grip on the hatchet. The opponent was not on guard. It would be easy.
With all my strength, I poured every experience I had into a single strike, swinging the hatchet to sever his neck.
“N/A!?”
There was no resistance. It was as if there had been no resistance at all. I spun around from the force of my swing, stumbling slightly. The hatchet had indeed pierced the Lord’s neck. Yet, he remained there, his head— which I had surely severed— was still attached, and he rubbed his neck with a disgruntled expression.
“Hmph… Has my power weakened too much? That my orders do not take effect… To pretend that my orders are effective, you are a most cautious man.”
My strike was powerful. It could easily shatter the sturdy skull of a magical beast and cut through flesh and bone. The wound from the silver arrow had already healed. There was no hesitation.
Without taking a breath, I swung the hatchet at the Lord in rapid succession. He offered no resistance.
Diagonal slashes, reverse diagonal slashes, and downward cleaves. I unleashed lethal strikes from every direction. Yet, there was no resistance to any of them.
It felt as if I were attacking something that did not exist. With each attack, the Lord’s body would scatter for a moment, only to return to its original form immediately.
“Futile. It is futile, End. You are intelligent. You have courage and caution, but… you lack knowledge. Attacks against me now… will not work.”
Even as I scattered his visage, the Lord’s voice continued unabated. There was no sign of pain or discomfort on his face.
Intelligent. Courageous. Cautious. Lacking in knowledge.
The Lord’s words struck true. I pressed forward, attacking the Lord relentlessly. My strikes showed no signs of fatigue, and I did not require breath.
I had known from the first strike that my attack would not connect. I continued my assault to buy even a moment of thought.
My knowledge was indeed limited, but I had seen the undead bestiary. Undead creatures have high resistance to physical attacks. Wraiths. They exist without a body, harming others solely with their souls. The Lord now… was, as I had initially thought, something akin to that.
It was unexpected that physical attacks would be so ineffective, but the battle was not yet lost.
I dug into my memories.
Wraiths possess powerful resistances, but on the reverse side, lacking a physical form, they are extremely vulnerable to spiritual energy and magical attacks compared to other undead. The reason the Lord had sent flesh and bone against the Order of the Final Knights without using his soul was likely because they could not pose a challenge to the Order.
However, I could not use magic, nor could I wield spiritual energy.
Should I seek help from Senri? Impossible. The distance to the city was too great, and there were First-Class Knights there. It would be tantamount to suicide.
As I unleashed a flurry of attacks, bones creaked, and flesh cried out in pain. Yet, it was fine. I felt no fatigue, and my regeneration could keep up with this level of damage.
Gradually retreating, I scattered the Lord, who sought to dominate me even in death.
“Cease your futile resistance, End. You were created for this purpose.”
What a selfish man until the very end. It was clear that I could never understand the Lord. From the moment he issued orders, it was doomed to fail. He spoke of vessels, and eight or nine times out of ten, my consciousness would likely fade.
Perhaps the Lord had refrained from imparting knowledge to me because he saw no need for it.
I was merely a vessel, not the contents. What he needed was a sturdy vessel overflowing with talent, while he intended to bear the contents himself.
Perhaps my instincts had sensed the Lord’s true objective, the truth of the “King of the Dead.”
There had been hints. To the Lord, my will was inconsequential.
But I could not yield. I felt my survival instinct ignite. There was no fear. What I felt was—anger.
I would kill him. Absolutely, without a trace of mercy. I would slay the being that even a Second-Class Knight could not defeat.
Horos Carmen, your tragic ambition shall be crushed here and now. You will be killed by your own vessel.
Amidst the storm of slashes, the Lord advanced, even as he was being cut apart.
It seemed my attacks could not buy even a moment of time against him. The reason he had not yet lunged at me was likely due to his curiosity as a necromancer, choosing to observe me instead.
“Have you gone mad with fear…? Well, it matters not. What is needed is a vessel that shows extraordinary aptitude against the power of death. I shall be the strongest ‘King of the Dead.'”
Even with my eyes closed or my nose severed, the Lord recognized me. Even with my throat cut, his voice reached me. I slashed at him from every conceivable angle, yet there was no sign of urgency from the Lord.
He was the strongest. Truly, the strongest. Cunning and arrogant, a dark mage whose existence was not permitted in this world. It was only natural that Senri had killed him.
But I, too, was not attacking recklessly without thought. Of course, I was not mad.
――I was skilled at thinking. Contemplation and enduring pain were the unique acts permitted to me during my previous life, when I was bedridden.
Finally, perhaps tired of merely observing, Lord descended swiftly like an Element. The moon illuminated his ghastly visage. I leaped sideways, evading him, and dropped the hatchet I had been wielding until now. Lord’s eyes widened in surprise.
“Horos Carmen. Your weakness is—your narrow perspective.”
“What?!”
That’s why I was deceived. That’s why Ruu didn’t realize he had formed a contract with me. That’s why I was cast aside by Senri. He alone existed in the world of Horos Carmen.
Does he not understand where this place is? Did he think I was retreating without a thought?
A large stone engraved with Ruu’s name. Once unearthed, it had solidified into the ground.
This is—your slave’s grave.
Indeed, I had no means to utilize Sei energy. I couldn’t use magic either.
However—here lies the weakness of the Undead.
I gripped tightly the silver arrow, which had been thrust like a crucifix, from its shaft to its tip, and pulled it free. A searing pain surged through my palm, which had finally healed, and the sound of something melting echoed through the night.
The silver weapon is a general weakness against malevolent spirits. Though it is not an object capable of killing me outright, it is highly effective against incorporeal malevolents (Wraiths).
He must have realized the nature of the object in my hand. Lord’s eyes widened, and he lunged toward me at a speed akin to the wind.
But it was too late.
Though he moved with considerable speed, had I been my previous self, I would have had no time to react. But as a Shiki (Ghoul), I found it to be no significant obstacle.
The protruding silver arrow pierced through Lord’s forehead as he dove in headfirst. His scream, which had not faltered even when attacked by Senri, reverberated through the darkness.
“GUAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”
“Did you think I would say something like that?”
“N-No way!?”
Lord remained unchanged. He neither vanished nor showed a hint of pain or discomfort. With the arrow embedded halfway into his forehead, he spoke with a voice tinged with a strange pity.
His bony fingers reached toward me. His murky, pitch-black eyes peered into mine. There was no way to stop him.
“That is why you lack knowledge of magic. I am not merely a malevolent spirit (Wraith). My essence is embedded within you. As long as that remains unbroken, I am immortal. My resistance to the principles of Wraith-type objects is not perfect. The moment you were influenced by that ‘Light Eater (Blood Ruler),’ you should have realized.”
“…”
“How pitiful. But take comfort in this: your vessel will become the mightiest ‘King of the Dead.'”
“…Die.”
At my words, laced with murderous intent, Horos frowned as if he had heard a ridiculous joke.
“I am already dead. You are, too—both I and you.”
I never expected Horos Carmen to have a sense of humor.
Horos’s spiritual form overlapped with my body. My vision flickered, and a torrent of pitch-black essence surged into my consciousness.