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A Weakling Who Died a Million Times - Chapter 13.2, 14.1, 14.2
🕑 Added 2024-12-08 08:00:13 +0000 UTCYear 141_Keireki Era_Spring/08
"Nasda, Thomas, Vilgram. You will stay here for two nights and wait for my return. If I do not return within those two nights, head back to the town. Report that I went into the mansion alone and did not return."
"What? … No, but—"
Thomas and Nasda both had a faint suspicion.
This mission was not a simple exploration task.
Ginesis was one of the top combatants in the Luluciette Adventurers' Guild.
Although he could handle exploration through experience, it was not his area of expertise.
Likewise, Nasda and Thomas lacked any skills relevant to scouting.
From the beginning, they had sensed there was no real intention of exploration.
That’s why they were filled with unease.
However, the directive given to them was to wait and return.
Abandoning a mission midway is problematic. This was explicitly stated in the prior mission contract.
If done intentionally, it could lead to punishment.
Ginesis understood this, which is why he had kept it hidden up to this point.
To avoid implicating them as much as possible in his actions, while coldly pursuing his own goal.
This was the only option he could take.
"Boss, are you leaving us behind because we're weak?"
"Sure, we had a contract, but even without that, a favor is still a favor. We’ll make sure not to get in your way, so—"
"… Wait here. Didn’t I say before that I’d come back after saving your comrades?"
He did not yell but reinforced his words firmly.
The plea, "Don’t throw your lives away meaninglessly," was understandable.
And it conveyed how dangerous this mission truly was.
Nasda and Thomas reluctantly lowered their packs.
"Boss, we bought the ingredients for curry. We ate it the day before heading back to Luluciette, remember?"
"We’ll make curry and wait for you."
Despite being threatened earlier, the two showed mercy toward Ginesis.
Acknowledging the gravity of their actions, yet choosing not to show it.
They understood that threatening others for one's own purposes was unacceptable.
The thin-faced man gave a small nod and said with a smile, "Make it mild."
He thought, perhaps this one request might be forgivable.
The two began setting up camp.
Ginesis headed further into the depths of the forest.
Vilgram stood in the gap between them.
───────────────────────
Ginesis' departing figure seemed especially forlorn.
As long as the curse persisted, a short life was unavoidable, and there was no time to form bonds with companions to lift it.
Days filled with coercion to move forward, even at the cost of alienating others.
That is what one might call solitude.
Perhaps I felt empathy for it.
Even I, resurrecting into a new body after death without retaining anything, shared the same loneliness as that figure.
I can not save him.
Just as no one can save me.
Even so, it didn’t mean there was nothing I could do.
If I did for someone else what I wished for myself, maybe one day it would be rewarded.
… Well, such actions are ultimately self-satisfying.
One must also be prepared for the possibility of an unpleasant outcome.
───────────────────────
Ginesis, the Black Blade.
He was said to be among the strongest in the Luluciette Adventurers' Guild.
His specialty, the Formless Blade, was similar to the techniques used by cathedral knights.
By using a sword as a focal point, he could instantly create an intangible blade.
It was rumored he could even cut down fully armored knights.
Though such tales might have been exaggerated by Roam’s drinking stories.
However, the rumors surrounding him were mostly dark.
He was known to accept quests and complete them solo, leaving his companions to wait elsewhere.
This led to suspicions from the guild that he was embezzling rewards from missions.
Yet, he remained neither banished nor dishonored, and was generally seen as quiet and unreadable.
Seeing him raise his voice like earlier was a first.
However, in the world of adventurers, such incidents were not rare.
The issue lay in who had intervened—Vilgram.
I… Felicity, an adventurer, though older and more experienced than him, had taken a liking to him.
Once a bandit, he had saved his benefactor, Iserina, and later Kagnat.
While I was glad the medicine I had gifted proved useful, I also worried about his disregard for himself.
He was someone who would sacrifice himself for others.
A trait I had seen in many people at my former haunt. All of whom had died young.
The gallantry shown by this younger man was one of the reasons I aspired to be an adventurer.
I, too, desired such resolve.
When I was a Hound of the Cathedral, I lived a life of coercion, forced to fight and survive. It was unbearable.
I yearned for a steadfast will to save others by my own choice.
But the boy who possessed what I sought was heading into certain danger.
The Adventurers’ Guild had clear rules.
One of them prohibited following another party’s mission without permission.
This rule was established because, in the past, people had interfered with missions, either stealing credit or causing harm.
Breaking this rule led to severe punishment.
But, if Vilgram were in my place, would he hesitate to act out of fear of the consequences?
Is gallantry something that fears sacrifice when it’s for someone you care about?
Before I knew it, I was fully equipped and outside the city.
The Wandering Manor was a widely discussed topic. The rumors, mostly trivial—hidden treasures or a beautiful lady awaiting her master—were common fare.
But over time, the rumors gained substance, eventually pinpointing its location.
That was why the mission was issued, though only a few knew the manor’s exact whereabouts.
I was one of them.
And so, I could pursue him.
Not even half a day had passed. I could still catch up.
───────────────────────
I believe this is for the best.
The curse passed down from my ancestors.
To lift it, I could not involve others in this fight.
There was no justice in this battle, nor in myself.
The ancestor who was beheaded had been a pawn of a ducal family.
At the time, the Boy King was beloved, and no one dared to dirty their hands, so he wielded his blade for money and power.
In the end, he was killed by a loyal maid, and his lineage was cursed.
A fitting fate for one who succumbed to greed.
The curse that persisted in his descendants would end with me.
For that purpose, I had threatened and used Nasda and Thomas.
I would likely meet the same fate as my ancestor. Such is the nature of retribution.
I already knew how to enter the Wandering Manor.
By following a specific sequence of steps, the appearing and disappearing manor could be fixed in place.
And I succeeded.
For that, I must thank Nichirin.
The scout, rumored to have come from the eastern demon country, had proven to be more skilled than the rumors suggested.
I entered through the front door.
I had no confidence in stealth. So I proceeded boldly, with a battlefield mindset.
The interior seemed frozen in time.
There wasn’t a speck of dust.
Yet, there was no sign of life either.
"Wow, it’s so dark… I’m glad I borrowed a full set of lanterns from Nasda. There we go… All right, it’s brighter now."
"… Why are you here, Vilgram?"
Ah, no doubt about it.
I realized I had just let out the biggest sigh of my life.
----------
Year 141_Keireki Era_Spring/08
Yo.
Here I am, letting out a massive sigh.
… Yeah, I get it.
The one who tagged along is the most inexperienced, after all.
Arrogant, too. I get why you’d be disappointed.
But if I left you alone, the loneliness might just erupt inside me.
So, I had no choice but to come.
I know it’s dangerous.
I know I’m blatantly breaking my promise to Iserina.
And this is the second time, no less. Breaking it, I mean.
Even as an ex-bandit, I think I’ve hit a new low.
But seeing Ginesis, dancing on some unseen hand’s strings just like me, I can’t help but see myself in him.
If he survives and breaks free from those bonds, maybe I could change how I think about my own resurrection too.
A selfish, faint hope, but it’s not nothing.
Ginesis muttered, "I’ll commend your reckless courage."
"… Stay close but not too close. Focus on evasion and defense. I’m not great at protecting people, but I’ll try my best."
"Got it."
The lantern lit the mansion.
"Ugh…"
A small, pained sound escaped from Ginesis.
He was clutching his arm—or rather, that vine.
"It seems to be this way."
The curse seemed to pull him deeper inside as he walked forward.
Eventually, we came to a large door.
It opened without him touching it.
"Are we invited in, or being lured?"
"Doesn’t matter."
Ginesis clenched his fist, suppressing the pain, and drew his sword.
I’d expected him to draw it immediately upon entering, but he hadn’t.
Until now, I hadn’t understood why.
When he unsheathed the blade, it finally made sense.
From the scabbard seeped a viscous, mist-like substance—the source of its power,
spilling from the sword and its sheath.
He had been tempering the ink inside.
I don’t fully understand the details—whether it’s essential to the formless sword
or just an important routine for him.
Regardless, the sword was drawn.
And that could only mean one thing.
"Vilgram, you ready?"
"Yeah. Not like I want to die either."
When I let that slip, Ginesis gave a small laugh and said,
"Neither do I."
───────────────────────
Beyond the large door was a vast chamber, spacious enough to host a ball.
The scale was unmistakably off.
Perhaps it was something conjured from ink.
Either way, this isn’t a place for some ex-bandit like me to be.
This calls for heroes and champions.
At the center of the room stood a table.
On it was something resembling a birdcage.
"You have come. At last, you’ve come."
A voice emanated from the cage—not a groan, but an unsettling sound
that prickled at the skin, like an auditory discomfort.
"I feel the branches of destiny. Oh, yes, you have come, my descendant."
One by one, the room's candelabras lit up, pushing back the darkness.
"Ugh, what the hell is that?"
"Most likely… an ancestor."
Inside the cage was a severed head, its eyes staring vacantly into the void,
murmuring words in a pained voice.
Ginesis identified it as an ancestor because vines similar to the one
pulsating on his arm extended from the cage's bars.
Only, they weren’t connected to its face—they sprouted outward from the severed neck,
like tendrils seeking prey.
"I fulfilled my promise! My promise has been kept, for the strong descendant has finally arrived."
The head continued its lament.
From the depths of the room, beyond the reach of the candelabras,
a shadow glided into view.
It moved silently—not like a skulking thief but with the presence of a servant
designed to exist as a shadow.
Soundless, imperceptible. The ideal embodiment of a concept.
Wearing a frilled headband and an apron dress.
A long skirt that didn’t sway lightly.
A high-collared inner layer, gloves—barely an inch of skin exposed, save for the face.
She was the very image of a first-class maid.
Her long hair was tied in a ponytail, the ends faintly glowing.
Closer inspection revealed the hems of her clothes doing the same,
flickering between transparency and solidity.
This made it abundantly clear—she wasn’t a mortal body.
She was a ghost, or some other revenant.
"My descendant, fight. Fight for me. Free me from this torment, my bloodline.
Fight! Fight! Redeem! Redeem! Redeem through victory—"
The deranged muttering of the head was abruptly silenced when the ghostly maid struck the cage with a backhand.
The cage didn’t break, but its contents were knocked rolling,
accompanied by a pitiful groan.
"Now, defeat me. If you do, you and your ancestor's head will be freed from the curse."
She didn’t wait for the formalities of her speech to conclude.
Having sized up my abilities at a glance, her focus was mostly on Ginesis.
That left me with one option.
Pulling a stone from my pocket, one I’d picked up earlier,
"Take this!"
I hurled it with all my might.
"A good aim," the maid remarked, shattering the stone mid-air.
The next sound was the metallic clink of a utensil dropping to the floor.
"Shadow, my blade; pierce the lifeline, my black fang."
The moment I acted, Ginesis followed suit, beginning his incantation.
It seemed to imply some knightly code against sneak attacks.
He’d waited for her to act before moving himself.
That was probably his way.
As a scion of a house that could decapitate kings,
he clearly wasn’t your average adventurer.
After his words, he swung his sword.
The distance made it clear the attack wasn’t meant to slash her.
In an instant.
A massive sword, larger than her entire body, erupted from the ground beneath the maid.
She leaped back to evade, but part of her clothing tore and dissipated into mist.
She wasn’t human. Her form, including her garments,
constituted her being, meaning any damage directly harmed her.
"The formless sword… you’re more talented than your ancestor, it seems."
"So, you’re the Final Bulwark, Senia?"
"I don’t deserve that title, having failed to protect my lord, but yes, I am Senia."
A name entirely foreign to me.
Though her stature and bearing were grand, it likely wasn’t what the title meant.
"If killing you lifts the curse, I’ll do it."
"If you are strong enough to defeat me, my grudge will have no choice but to yield."
The Final Bulwark. Resentment.
… An undead.
A Boy King, slain by treachery.
An executioner who carried out the deed.
I didn’t know their exact relationship, but I understood why she lingered as a ghost.
Ginesis’ attack, aptly named the formless sword,
manifested a blade at the strike’s endpoint.
Whether through technique or magic, I couldn’t tell.
Senia was cautious in dodging, likely because the earlier grazing proved the attack could kill her.
I didn’t understand all the circumstances.
But dying here with Ginesis wasn’t an option.
The only thing I could do was pave the way for his victory.
And so—
I pulled another stone from my pocket.
Three left.
Given she deflected the last one with a utensil, she might share my throwing skills.
Against such a foe, my chakrams were a last-resort weapon.
"Seniaaa! Why’re you so angry!?"
I shouted, loud enough to be heard without the need to yell.
Though she betrayed no annoyance, she briefly glanced my way.
"You regret not protecting your king, don’t you?"
----------
Year 141_Keireki Era_Spring/08
If she looked at me, next is a quieter voice.
I'm not here for conversation.
My job is simply to distract.
Provocative actions, prodding with information that feels insightful.
Not elegant?
Well, I was born and raised a bandit.
Even a brief glance gave Ginesis's intangible blade the opening to slice a part of Senia's body.
Ginesis capitalized on the gap my words created.
As Iserina said, there seem to be few battles that man can't handle alone.
Senia took a step back to create distance.
I thought she was refocusing on the battle—but no.
"Do you know my master's name?"
A conversation.
I always thought undead were driven by resentment and would just spew hateful words, but even my understanding of undead was based on fragments of memory of unknown reliability.
Not trustworthy at all.
"No, I don't."
"Then do you know how they died?"
"Ginesis just told me that. But that's all. Nothing detailed."
"… It seems you are quite uneducated."
"Sure, I can read and write, but learning's not my strong suit."
"If you had studied properly, you might have managed a more refined provocation."
Point taken.
… Perhaps I should study while I can, instead of moaning about it.
But that's for after I get out of this alive.
"If you are willing to teach, I might just learn something."
Her expression flinched.
Ah, I see.
She projected me onto her master.
With the title "Boy King," I'd assumed someone younger, but this might be unexpected fortune.
"Senia, is there any way you can let go of your resentment toward Ginesis and his ancestors?"
If not, it's time for some verbal jousting.
Senia's face twisted bitterly.
And into that bitterness, Ginesis's intangible blade mercilessly flew.
A dark, semi-transparent blade attacked the maid spectacularly.
This wasn't just provocation.
Ginesis hadn't struck before the battle began, but it seemed conversation during battle was a different story. Honestly, that was a relief.
Senia dodged before responding.
The flickers at the edges of her body… they seem to follow a pattern, like they're directed.
… The flickers appear to lead or connect toward the direction of the severed head.
Let's test it. If my guess is right, the anchor for Senia's existence is...
I gripped a stone tightly and hurled it with all my strength.
Timing the throw perfectly with the ghostly maid's evasive maneuver against the intangible blade, even a skilled thrower would struggle to counter at that instant.
And precisely because it's the same kind of skill, I knew what she'd hate.
"Aaagh!"
The thrown stone shattered the basket and struck the neck.
"What are you doing? Why do you not protect me? If I disappear, then you..."
"Be quiet."
Senia may no longer be affected by taunts.
But the head seems different.
I have one stone left.
As Ginesis closed in and resumed his fight with Senia, I circled widely around toward the head.
If Senia turned her attention to me, it would create an opening for Ginesis to finish her.
My job is to create openings.
"Hey, ancestor-in-a-head. Why are you helping Senia?"
"A foolish question. I am not helping her. That woman has cursed this head."
Seeing me take another stone out of my pocket and making it visible, the head engaged in conversation.
Apparently, being hit with a stone still hurts, even as just a head.
"A curse?"
"She sealed my consciousness in this head and deprived me of death. Through a forbidden magic passed down to a few in the kingdom. This magic also affects the one who casts it."
"Curses come with their own cost, huh?"
For Senia, it was a double win.
She cursed her ancestor while making herself undead.
"This forbidden magic will only vanish when that woman is satisfied. If she doesn't disappear, neither can I. Isn't it audacious for a mere maid to use such magic on me? I was born under the star of a grand knight, yet this is my fate."
"Born under the star," meaning they weren't a prominent noble at the time?
If they had a clear title, they'd likely boast about it.
The head groaned wordlessly.
Then, continuing with an unpleasant sound, it spoke again.
"Why must I alone be cursed? Yes, I created a gap in the defenses under the Duke's orders that day. Yes, I slightly altered an order. Exploiting the complacency of peaceful fools was child's play. If the king was abducted, isn't the abducted king at fault? Isn't the maid who failed to protect him to blame? No executioner wanted to kill their own king, so I simply carried it out. What was wrong with that? I did what was required of me. I acted for my glory. Why am I condemned for it?"
As expected of one who is cursed, they began spewing appalling things.
I'd assumed someone involved in executing a king would hold a significant position, but they were just a Duke's lapdog?
The succession war is said to have been a dark age, but even the events leading to it were pitch black.
When given a chance to vent such curses, they spewed freely, devoid of self-restraint.
This is the undead I know.
"What are you…"
Hearing this, Ginesis faltered in both words and actions.
If they had merely been glaring at each other, it might have been fine.
But stopping mid-battle was a mistake.
It happened amidst their close-range clash.
Senia's hand struck through Ginesis's body, crushing his life.
"… Generations fought to free our ancestors, but this curse was a punishment for the folly born of our bloodline…"
Falling to his knees, Ginesis collapsed.
"There is no longer any reason to fight…"
No, it wasn’t a mistake.
Ginesis willingly gave up the fight. He surrendered his life to Senia.
"No… ah, this is not the outcome I wanted. I only wanted to be killed, to prove my existence was meaningless. Why—"
The ghostly maid, full of undead-like resentment, muttered in anguish.
Ginesis's sword fell from his hand, and as his body hit the floor, a dry sound echoed.
The source of the sound was the basket shattering.
Vines sprouted from the severed neck, skittering like insect legs.
The grotesque motion momentarily derailed my thoughts.
I realized I had two options: flee immediately or move toward Ginesis.
But the latter was soon ruled out.
───────────────────────
I had been waiting.
Waiting, waiting, waiting.
I had been waiting for this moment.
Using the forbidden magic on numerous descendants, offering curses and invitations, drawing them to this haunted mansion.
But most died before reaching the place.
Only this man.
This man alone reached the maid.
And beyond that, such strength.
Strength unimaginable for this bloodline. It was extraordinary.
This was an unexpected delight.
The blood descendant was magnificently killed by Senia.
Into the deep wounds, I slipped.
The cursed vines of forbidden magic were bestowed by the Duke.
Originally meant to immobilize the king and his entourage, they matched me perfectly.
The power of these vines was far more precise than my body, functioning as muscle substitutes.
But even with them, I was killed by Senia because my body was weak.
Senia's forbidden magic forced me to be a tool ensuring her existence until her grudge was satisfied.
Disguising the cursed vines as hers, I lured descendants.
Those lacking promise were cursed to death from afar—crushing hearts with the vines was simple.
This power affected only those of my blood, which was how I brought them here.
It felt like destiny, drawing them to this place.
Finally, a vessel capable of killing Senia had appeared.
Sliding into the wound, I removed the unnecessary organs and re-grew my head in its rightful place.
The descendant's head burst apart. Useless. Such a thing is unnecessary.
"Grh… grhr… grga… g, gill…"
It was difficult to speak without ink, perhaps from not having used my body in ages.
But the intent should be clear.
"Zenia, I will gill yo. What wrong wit gilling da king? Pwove that I was wight!"
───────────────────────
The situation twisted and turned.
Stay calm. Understand the situation.
Chronology. Compile it chronologically.
Piecing together the puzzle will help me stay composed.
The royal's death triggered the Succession War.
The executioner was deeply involved.
The executioner severed the Boy King's head.
The Boy King's loyal maid then cut off the executioner's head in revenge and disappeared.
From here, my thoughts contain much speculation.
Think, think. I don't want to die easily in this life.
The maid believes that if she had been there she could have protected the Boy King.
But in reality she wanted to be killed by the executioner because she wanted to believe that her existence was meaningless (hypothesis).
However, the executioner was killed so easily that she wanted his descendants to fulfill that desire (tentative).
Ginesis arrived here after many years of twisted revenge story (confirmed).
However, Ginesis was killed by Senia when the executioner told him the truth (confirmed).
The executioner took his body (confirmed).
The executioner's goal is to take revenge on Senia for treating him as a tool for so many years and for being angry that his leisurely life as the Duke's dog was stopped (almost certain).
...
Okay, Ginesis who wanted to complete this request is no longer there.
This incident no longer has anything to do with me at all.
Let's run.
Let's get out.
Next: https://www.patreon.com/posts/117542091
