When he had inspected the skill at the Tetradia Magic Tower before, the atmosphere had been gloomy and the appearance frightening, but compared to now, it had been child's play.
The world had grown several shades darker simply from its appearance alone.
The tightness in his chest was surely due to the powerful aura of death radiating from the Grim Reaper.
A specter seemingly composed of death itself.
The Grim Reaper, wielding a crimson scythe and looking down at Hio with dark red eyes.
"Hehe... that is truly... You, quickly take that to the Tower so we can research it together! Our Necromancers could make tremendous progress......"
By now, he was quite used to letting the buzzing voice echoing in his head wash over him, so he ignored the highly agitated Purnell.
While doing so, he stared straight into the Grim Reaper's red eyes.
The first evolved apex skill, Thunder Emperor.
The second evolved apex skill, Blue Flame.
Unlike the two skills he had to wield directly, this one was the concept of summoning.
But there was little difference.
Because the moment his eyes met the Grim Reaper's, he knew.
His thoughts reached that specter immediately.
And indeed.
The Grim Reaper, which had been staring fixedly at Hio, moved its ghostly body.
The black form, holding its red scythe, headed toward the carriage.
Though it was easily twice the size of the carriage, it made not a single sound—truly befitting a ghost.
Having arrived before the carriage in this manner, the Grim Reaper looked at Hio once more.
Feeling as though it were asking, *Is this what you meant?* Hio nodded.
"Yeah. Strip every last bit of death qi from the body in there."
At Hio's words, the Grim Reaper looked at the carriage for a moment before turning its head again to stare back at him.
"What are you doing? I said that's the one."
Even so, the Grim Reaper's red eyes simply looked down at Hio in silence.
"...Don't tell me."
Hio urgently opened the carriage door and entered.
A silver-haired girl lying quietly.
Even breathing.
A peaceful expression.
Looking with the Ghost Eye, Silvia's body showed not a trace of death qi, even upon the closest inspection.
It was clean.
"Ha......"
He slumped down onto the opposite chair.
"To think it was this easy."
That it could be resolved so easily with just a single glance from the Grim Reaper.
"If only... if only you'd held on a little longer."
Just hold on a little longer, Teordo.
If you die like that, how am I supposed to handle everything alone?
What am I supposed to say to Silvia when she wakes up? And how am I supposed to show her that horribly mutilated corpse...?
Leaning back in the chair, he stared blankly at Silvia.
Not the weak, dying breaths and a face twisted in pain, but a peaceful expression.
A journey that started in the South, passed through the East, and reached right beneath the capital.
Three had come together, but two remained and one was now gone.
Just a few days ago, they had been exchanging words right inside this carriage.
I told you to do what you could.
Recalling that, a chuckle slipped out before he even realized it.
"You did your job a little too well, didn't you?"
Just as you'd expect from a foolishly stubborn knight.
Who told you to try that hard?
His heart felt... empty.
"...I said it! This brat is completely ignoring me! Heavens above, seniors! The world has changed so much, seniors! What kind of student ignores their master like this and treats them like a ghost in the back room! Oh my, in my day, if there was a bastard like this, word would have spread among the senior mages immediately, and he'd be a damn dog who couldn't even set foot in these parts......"
"A damn dog?"
After a brief silence.
"...I'll try an acrostic poem with that."
Purnell coughed awkwardly.
"Ahem. So you weren't ignoring me after all?"
"A student must always listen to their master's words."
"Of course. As expected, your attitude is proper. Anyway, instead of this, hurry outside. This is truly an unprecedented opportunity in this world."
"...An opportunity?"
"You'll know when you see it. Hurry and look."
Unable to resist Purnell's urging, Hio forced himself up and opened the carriage door.
"Look with the Ghost Eye."
The world seen through the Ghost Eye was a colorless world where gray souls and black death rampaged wildly.
Amidst it all, the overwhelming presence of the Grim Reaper.
......And.
"What do you think? You've never seen something like that before, have you?"
Something that shone alone, the only thing glittering in that colorless, stained world.
The intensely brilliant light inevitably drew his gaze.
"It's a Noble Soul. A rare soul, indeed."
"Noble... Soul."
"The soul of one with high pride. The soul of one who never bent to anything and saw their will through. Who do you think it is?"
He slowly approached that shining soul.
As if there's any doubt.
Isn't it an obvious question?
A knight of high pride.
"Teordo Ricarte."
"Hehehe. Correct, correct. Lofty pride and a pure heart. Even the rank of his soul is quite high. Now then, what must we do?"
Purnell's voice whispered, as if tempting him.
"We shall dye that Noble Soul black."
Hio's expression instantly twisted.
"Hey now. You're thinking about evil Necromancers again, aren't you? That's not it. This is giving him another chance."
To help Hio understand, Purnell explained step by step.
"Dyeing that Noble Soul black is not necessarily a bad thing. If it truly were an evil deed, Necromancers would have been branded public enemies of the continent and exterminated long ago. Of course...... there have always been a few who went overboard, but let's set that aside."
It is not denying the laws created by God.
It is not defying death.
This, too, is one of the laws.
It is but one of the many types of death.
"That is why Necromancy is respected as a complete school of magic. Moreover, that soul is still lingering here, is it not?"
The prouder one is, the higher the rank of their soul, the less they cling to death without attachment, leaving this world without hesitation.
Indeed, he could see countless souls fading away even now.
But Teordo's noble soul showed no intention of leaving, not budging an inch.
"A newly formed soul usually falls into confusion with its memories all jumbled. Yet the fact that it remains so firmly in place means an enormous amount of lingering attachment remains."
"So you're saying we should revive Teordo as an Undead?"
"Not an ordinary Undead. A high Undead—a Death Knight."
"But the only Necromancy I know is Vampiric Touch?"
As a 2nd Circle Necromancer, he had firmly engraved the foundational runes.
But he had yet to learn Undead creation, which could be called the basics.
"That's exactly why this is an opportunity. To be precise, a perfect opportunity unlike any other."
Excitement began to creep into Purnell's voice.
"A Noble Soul! High rank! Death qi overflows in this place, and the noble soul cannot leave! And most decisively...... look beside you."
Hio turned his head, and the overwhelming presence naturally filled his vision.
Because of the Ghost Eye, he could feel death itself all the more vividly.
"The Grim Reaper, said to control all auras. That is a miracle. If a being like that obeys your words, what could you possibly fail at as a Necromancer?"
"The Grim Reaper can do even that?"
"No. No. That ghost probably only has the ability to control auras, just as the description says. But what is the reason one must raise their realm as a Necromancer? There are many reasons, but the most important is to handle death qi—to achieve maximum efficiency with minimal amounts."
Listening to Purnell, Hio looked around with ashen eyes.
Death qi spread throughout the vast area.
"You haven't yet learned magic to handle death qi. But doesn't that otherworldly ghost stand in its place?"
This time, he looked at the Grim Reaper.
The Grim Reaper's red eyes also looked at Hio.
"You don't know how to use death qi efficiently. You don't have the related runes either. But right now, there is no need for that. Isn't death qi overflowing?"
And finally, he looked at the shining soul.
"You don't know the magic to create Undead. But you have an excellent master. Excellent materials...... no, an excellent soul. Overflowing death qi, and a being to control it."
He quietly looked up at the shining soul.
"All the conditions are perfect. It couldn't possibly be better than this."
Still, it was hard to believe.
"You're saying making Teordo into a Death Knight is that easy?"
"The situation itself is favorable, but in fact, your role is the most important. It cannot be forced through magic, so you must persuade him. That Noble Soul."
"Persuade?"
"Perhaps 'contract' is more fitting than 'persuasion.' Let me explain calmly. If he just comes over willingly, we'll slam him full of death qi and make him a Death Knight right aw—... ahem. Anyway, do you understand?"
"...Well, roughly."
From deep within his soul, Purnell's laughter could be faintly heard.
"What are you doing? Hurry and command the Grim Reaper to draw in all the death qi."
"...Right now?"
"It must be done immediately. Remember this. With your current skill, you cannot make a soul of that caliber into a Death Knight. Only because death qi overflows, and because that overflowing qi can all be controlled, can you attempt this—and even then, the soul must give its permission."
"Got it."
Hio's gaze turned toward the Grim Reaper.
The Grim Reaper, which had been staring intently at Hio the entire time.
There was no need to open his mouth and speak.
Hio's will was conveyed to the Grim Reaper immediately.
The Grim Reaper slowly raised its blood-red scythe.
Darkness deepened in response.
All death qi within the range the Grim Reaper could control surged forth.
Fresh death qi gushing from recently deceased lifeforms.
Because the range was incredibly wide, the amount of qi gathering was enormous.
A majestic yet pitch-black procession of death, visible only to Hio's eyes, gathered at the scythe under the Grim Reaper's guidance.
That massive darkness all aimed toward the Noble Soul.
"If you can handle spiritual power, the Ghost Eye is not merely an eye that sees souls. Focus spiritual power into your eyes."
Concentrating spiritual power into his eyes, just as instructed, he began to see something different in the soul that had simply been shining.
"Much information is engraved within a soul. Look closely into it."
Teordo's soul emitting light.
Darkness endlessly pressing toward it. Death qi.
Even while receiving such endless darkness, the Noble Soul did not lose even a bit of its light.
It did not waver one bit.
Just as he had been in life.
"If you keep at it, you will be able to reach it."
He raised his spiritual power a little more.
Things became clearer.
"To Teordo Ricarte's essence."
Those were the memories comprising Teordo Ricarte's soul.
* * *
He had first held a sword on his seventh birthday.
Not a wooden sword, but a real one.
A plain, unadorned sword.
But he had been so fond of it that he slept with it in his arms, scabbard and all.
One of the few intense memories and happy recollections of his life.
He had entered the Imperial Palace as an apprentice knight at seventeen.
Because he had graduated from the Knights' Academy with outstanding grades and caught their eye.
Had that not been the case, he might have entered some noble house as an apprentice knight or wandered the continent as a free knight.
At nineteen, gloriously, he had been able to enter under Sir Vitalianus Mahel, Commander of the Imperial Palace's 1st Knight Order.
An incredible person who made his name known throughout the continent with a single sword.
He belonged to the same place as that person, who was said would soon obtain the title of the Star.
It might have been the happiest time since the day he first held a sword.
He was twenty-eight.
"I intend to create an imperial guard that follows only His Majesty the Emperor. The name is Royal Knights. Those who do not wield swords but have Awakened shall also join. It shall become the strongest military force on the continent."
Commander. No, the great Sword Saint who had ascended to the 8th Circle and obtained the title of the Star, Vitalianus Mahel.
"I believe you are well suited for these Royal Knights. What do you say? Will you not join me?"
It was an offer of pure honor.
What knight would refuse such an offer?
"...Would you grant me a little time to think?"
Perhaps it was because he was at an age when he had many thoughts.
I asked him to wait just a little longer, and thankfully, Lord Vitalianus readily said that he would.
“Get some rest. You’ve seemed to have a lot on your mind lately. I’ll speak to His Majesty and see if I can arrange for you to take a break.”
I did not wish to impose on Lord Vitalianus any further, so I told him it was all right, but—
“If you refuse even this, I’ll have no face left.”
“······Thank you for your consideration, Commander.”
Lord Vitalianus smiled and patted me on the shoulder.
“You must be thinking a great deal about the sword. You’ve already passed the stage where you simply swing it, so take some time to rest and think it over.”
And with that one casual remark—
“In my eyes, a sword that protects suits you best.”
My thoughts only grew more complicated.
A few days passed after that, and through Lord Vitalianus’s consideration, I was able to leave the tightly packed schedule of the Imperial Knights and take on a different duty.
None other than serving as the escort knight of Her Highness Princess Sylvia Verden.
I left the knight order while receiving the envy of my fellow knights all at once, but I had no intention of taking it easy as they imagined.
An escort knight to the princess.
Was that not a grave duty in which one could not let down one’s guard for even a moment?
And so I began my duty as Her Highness Sylvia’s escort knight, and yet······.
There was truly nothing to do.
Had I been with the knight order, I would have been rolling across the dirt in training without a moment to spare by now.
I would have swung my sword and grown even a little stronger.
Yet my entire duty was simply to stand still all day long.
It was because Her Highness was still far too young.
The work I did standing there all day was merely watching Her Highness the Princess.
When the nanny told me to smile a little, I would awkwardly smile whenever my eyes met Her Highness’s.
That was all.
How could she be so small?
Her hands, her feet, her face.
She was so small and delicate that if she were to roll over and fall······.
Whenever such thoughts came to me, I would tense up and try not to take my eyes off her for even an instant.
Like that, a month passed. A year passed. Two years passed.
“When do you intend to give me your answer?”
At Lord Vitalianus’s words, I could only lower my head deeply, feeling terribly sorry.
“······I apologize.”
“That means you intend to refuse my offer to join the Royal Knights, does it not?”
“I am truly sorry. I will certainly repay this discourtesy······.”
“Enough. Enough, so just go. Do you know how many knights wish to enter this place···? I will remember you clearly as the most foolish knight in the world.”
“Yes. Even if I had ten mouths, I would have nothing to say. I apologize.”
Someone like me had dared refuse the proposal of the great Sword Saint, Lord Vitalianus.
And after he had waited as long as two years, no less.
But truly, there was nothing I could do.
Those tiny, wriggling hands.
The smile that came when my eyes met Her Highness’s was no longer awkward, and though I merely stood there all day, I was happy.
When her little hand wriggled and wrapped itself around my finger, my mouth would open in a helpless grin before I even realized it, and more than once passing maids had giggled at me.
I would try to straighten my expression in shame, but when I faced Her Highness’s beaming smile, I would melt all over again.
And so, there was nothing I could do.
I had no choice but to refuse Lord Vitalianus’s offer.
As I turned away with a heavy heart—
“It seems you have found something you must protect.”
At the words of the Sword Saint, who was probably smiling as he always did—
“My sincere congratulations, Theordo Ricardt.”
Only then did I admit it.
That perhaps I would spend my entire life for this little princess.
That for the sake of that beaming smile, I would take up my sword and grow stronger.
Even the moment I made that vow was happy.
Surely, this was a pleasant, satisfying memory.
Surely, surely it had to be such a memory.
Then why, exactly······.
Why was one corner of my heart so heavy?
How could merely recalling it hurt this much?
What······ What was I doing?
Your Highness. I must protect Her Highness, but where is she?
Why is there only darkness thick on every side?
Move aside.
I must find Her Highness and escort her.
You wicked, cloying darkness.
Move aside at once.
Her Highness must surely be searching for me in desperation.
Take up my sword······ my sword······?
Sword.
Where has my sword gone?
—Theordo Ricardt.
Quiet!
Do not call me.
I must return to Her Highness’s side as quickly as possible.
—Noble knight, already dead.
······What?
—Knight who raised his sword until the very end to save Sylvia.
At those words, my consciousness somehow began to grow clearer.
The black mist slowly······ began to lift.
—Open your eyes.
The mist that had covered my eyes cleared, and my consciousness sharpened.
My awareness, which had been buried in the past and swept away by memory, had been drawn back up.
And only then could I see the owner of that voice clearly.
Ashen, gleaming eyes.
A hat still comically large, and a robe somehow stained with a little blood.
The mage, Hio Pavlenko.
······I see.
The memories from just before began to return to me.
All of them, even my own end.
So I··· truly died like that.
Then how is this mage able to see me?
When I looked around, the whole world was achromatic.
A bizarre, chilling world.
And in it, darkness was gathered particularly thickly around this place alone.
Was this the kind of world the mage had always been seeing?
My gaze, which had been looking around, turned back to the mage··· and suddenly, my body trembled.
No, my soul trembled.
A shudder ran through me.
Because I was now in the complete state of a soul, I could know it all the more clearly.
The red-eyed ghost standing behind the mage.
A death reaper holding a massive scythe.
An existence beyond rank, outside all standards. A vast presence.
Its master was undoubtedly the mage, Hio Pavlenko.
I had thought I knew something about him······ but only after dying did I realize how absurd that thought had been.
It felt as though I had glimpsed even a little of his true nature.
—Theordo Ricardt.
The mage’s voice resounded through my soul.
—Your duty is not yet over.
My duty is not over?
What could that mean to one already dead, mage?
Do you intend to console me?
—I will grant you one more chance.
At the mage’s words, the reaper with an overwhelming caliber raised its red scythe.
In truth, there were so many things I wanted to ask.
What had become of Her Highness?
Mage, did you accomplish what you had to do?
I wanted to ask, but the words would not come out.
—Do not resist.
A cloying darkness that began from the reaper’s scythe rushed toward me once more.
—Accept that power in its entirety.
It sounded just like a devil’s whisper.
As if telling me that I could learn what I wished to know.
That I could see Sylvia once again.
—Knight Theordo Ricardt.
And as though he had read that thought—
The mage’s final words shook Theordo’s soul.
—Return from death and take up your sword once more.
The darkness came rushing in.
Sticky and dense.
A power like death itself.
—For the princess.