218. Annoying Swarm of Mosquitoes (3)
-Whirr.
At the edge of the desolate village, the horse snorted and stepped back, as if refusing to go any further. The evening glow had completely faded, and the sky cast long shadows of deep blue. Fernandez clicked his tongue and dismounted.
“Your Excellency. This place…”
Even she, who was sharper than words in the realm of instinct, frowned and hesitated. As soon as they fully dismounted, the horses snorted and galloped back the way they came.
“Ah!”
“Let them go. They’re warhorses; they’ll find their way back to the camp.”
The bandits in this area had already been wiped out. The warriors of the Federation of Beastmen Nobles had scoured the area under the orders of their chieftain. There might be a few remnants disguised as tenant farmers, but such small-time bandits wouldn’t dare steal a warhorse bearing the Duke’s seal.
So, there was no need to worry about the horses. Fernandez gazed at the nameless small settlement at the edge of the territory. It had been desolate during the day, but at night, it looked downright eerie.
“I smell something.”
“That’s strange.”
It was unusual for Kirhas, who wasn’t a priest of Vaitas, to detect the scent of dark magic. Fernandez chuckled softly and stepped into the village entrance. His keen ears began to pick up noises.
The night in the wasteland is noisier than the day. Humans are diurnal creatures, but most wasteland creatures are nocturnal. The wasteland’s day is excessively hot and dry. That remained true even after the wasteland had momentarily turned into a lush plain.
Thus, at the onset of night, Fernandez found himself amidst the white noise of countless creatures stirring. The clattering, the squeaking, the occasional bursts of sound and death throes. The sounds of life being born.
And then.
“They say ghosts and skeletons roam at night.”
The dry sounds of bone fragments clashing without flesh. Fernandez laughed as he stepped into the heart of the village.
* * *
Kirhas’s longsword reflected the moonlight, glinting brightly. She whispered in a low voice, oddly cheerful.
“This reminds me of the old days.”
“Old days?”
“Back when we first went to hunt the vampires of Franzrit. A desolate village, dozens of ghouls, and a vampire hiding somewhere. Good times.”
“…Good?”
“Good because we were together.”
Kirhas smirked and swung her sword, striking a corner of the wall. With a *thunk*, blood splattered onto the blade. She clicked her tongue and wiped the blood on her sleeve.
“Just a rat. I thought it was a monster because of the strange presence.”
“Don’t rely on sound, Kirhas. A dark mage lurking in a workshop with traps laid wouldn’t leave such careless clues.”
“Then how should we find them?”
“With magic.”
-Swish.
Fernandez crouched and touched the ground. Slowly, with his fingertips, he drew a circle. Soon, small silver sparks trailed from his fingers onto the ground.
The three principles of modern magic are incantation, ritual, and mana. Strictly speaking, it’s a bit more complicated, but incantations and rituals can be adjusted depending on the situation.
Like how combat mages or wandering mages might skip rituals and just focus on the incantation. For sufficiently skilled mages, simple spells don’t even require incantations.
When there’s no need to rush. And when the target is also a mage. One must be more careful—
-Whirr!
A silver magical formation spread out around him. After briefly crossing his hands and bowing his head, Fernandez pointed his finger toward the center of the road.
“Reveal yourself.”
-Pssst…
As he spoke, the silver flames flickered out. Then, *flicker*, *whirr*. Tiny dots of light began to appear along the road. More and more. Densely…
“Your Excellency, what is this…?”
“A spell that reveals traces matching specific conditions.”
Fernandez smiled as he moved forward. Specific conditions. Blood, undead, and the unique traits of the caster’s magic circuit—a very precise formula.
-Manderson of the Corpse Tower…
He’s a dark mage from the same academy as Faijashi. A necromancer who had, or rather, was about to make a name for himself in the eastern regions of the Empire. As the former head of Calmburg Magic Academy, Faijashi knew exactly how Manderson’s magic circuit was structured.
Thus, finding traces of his magic was easy. The silver dots lined up like a compass, pointing in one direction. Fernandez walked along the road, maintaining the incantation with his left hand.
-Whirr!
Soon, at the edge of the village, the sparks stopped in one direction. A cat tilted its head, staring at him.
The cat didn’t seem to notice the silver flames clinging to its body.
“Manderson. Are you well-prepared?”
-Ssshhhaaa!!
“That won’t do. Didn’t I tell you to prepare for me? Time is running out.”
Fernandez flicked his finger in front of the cat. The cat let out a sharp screech, stiffened, and then slumped. The silver sparks that had been clinging to its body shot off like an arrow, leaving a long trail.
“Is that… the soul of a dark mage?”
“A familiar. A low-grade minion spell. My magic rode on the traces of his mana. Follow that trail, and he’ll appear.”
“Your Excellency. It seems the guest has arrived.”
“Good. That’s more like it.”
-Click.
Fernandez smiled and gripped the hilt of his sword. Soon, skeletons began to crawl out from the edges of the village, from the walls, the cracks, the rooftops, and under the eaves.
The skeletons clattered their jaws, their blue flames flickering. Fernandez drew his sword, spun it, and adjusted his grip, ready to face forward.
He stepped forward.
“Where did so many corpses come from…?”
Sparks flew from Kirhas’s eyes. The vanished villagers, the undead that appeared with the incantation, the abandoned village. There were countless small settlements like this in the territory. The frontier villages of the western war were so numerous that even the royal administration couldn’t keep track of them all.
Therefore, the victims of this mage were uncountable. How many innocent people must have been sacrificed by the mage’s hand? Kirhas gritted her teeth and charged forward. Fernandez laughed as he fended off the occasional skeleton that lunged at him.
‘This isn’t enough.’
-They’re buying time.
‘Even if they buy time, does he have another plan?’
-Well, Manderson isn’t a complete idiot. He might have some other scheme.
‘He did. Everyone has at least one good plan.’
Until they met the Inquisition Officer. Fernandez and Kirhas crushed the skeletons and corpses that came at them and escaped the village.
* * *
The once barren wasteland was now covered in green grass, shimmering under the moonlight with the night dew. A silent wind blew. Fernandez and Kirhas ran, following the trail of silver sparks scattered beneath their feet.
This direction… Fernandez frowned. It was too far from the territory. A small settlement on the outskirts of Ribue, and then several kilometers further into the wasteland.
-It’s strange for Manderson’s work.
‘But the magical composition matches Manderson’s.’
-Exactly. That’s what makes it even stranger.
Manderson was the type to dig into urban areas or villages to set up his workshops. He usually set up near crypts or communal graveyards, conducting his grim experiments and training.
He was like a sewer rat or a corpse fly. And such creatures never stay in desolate places. But this direction… You’d have to go much further to find just a few nomadic tribes.
‘It doesn’t add up.’
Most nomads are beastmen. Beastmen form closed, tribal societies, and it’s nearly impossible for a human like Manderson to infiltrate and operate within them.
Moreover, it’s too far from Ribue territory. Both Kirhas and Fernandez had physical abilities that somewhat surpassed human limits, allowing them to cover such distances on foot, but for an ordinary person, it would be unthinkable.
If the nearest human settlement is where they last passed through… This is excessive. Excessively far. It’s as if they’re being lured…
‘Did he prepare a contingency?’
The warning Fernandez gave Manderson during the day was of the “prepare with all your might” variety. If the guy just ran away, that would be one thing, but leaving loose ends and dealing with him ambiguously wasn’t an option. If they were going to do it, they had to root him out completely.
So he warned him to do his best. If they caught him carelessly, without destroying his hideout, his tools, or the countless undead he might have created, it would leave a lingering threat somewhere in this territory.
And the residual thoughts of abandoned undead would inevitably give rise to stronger undead, demons, or dark mages drawn to them. Like cockroaches, if you don’t destroy the nest and wipe them out in one go, they’ll always hide in the sewers and thrive.
But to his question, Faijashi shook his head.
-His specialty is creating creatures from human corpses. There’s nothing he could prepare in an empty field. If he prepared a trap with all his might, it would be a hostage situation in the heart of the city.
Recalling the Walker incident in Phaeirn, Fernandez nodded. If a Walker incident, or this kind of undead or plague situation, occurred in the heart of the city, most of the time, they’d be more focused on calming the situation than catching the mastermind.
That’s why dark mages, when cornered, usually cause chaos in the city. Like the Bronze Scales did. So this now…
“Your Excellency!”
“Yes, we’re almost there.”
The silver-white sparks trailed off and soon disappeared. The moonlight stretched over the low hill. A flag fluttered in the cold night wind on the hill.
“Uh… um… Are you sure that’s the right place?”
“Let’s check.”
“It would be better to get military support. If we go just one more day, we’ll reach the beastmen tribes. If I give the order, they’ll send warriors!”
“One day is too late. By noon tomorrow, Brother Pascal will start the inquisition.”
A large, official inquisition will begin. As much as they’ve been given a day’s grace, it will be even more spectacular. It’s less about expressing dissatisfaction with Fernandez and more about the priest’s characteristic diligence, as if to say, “We rested for a day, so we’ll work even harder.”
And the diligence of the Inquisition Officer inevitably leads to victims. If the victims’ screams become public, the Empire’s envoy will surely raise an issue about it.
If that happens, it will be too late. They’re already on the verge of a breakdown in coordination with Partak. They can’t afford to waste any more time. Any kind of uncontrollable variable is a threat.
“Let’s approach on our own.”
So. Fernandez took a step forward toward the camp stretched over the low hill. The silver-white sparks led to the camp where torches were blazing.
It was the military force of a border noble. Fernandez recognized the emblem. He had thoroughly investigated everything about Ribue.
The lord near Ribue. Count Alberda of Bramdon. A powerful military noble, a vassal of the Duke of Ribue, and one of the border nobles who had withdrawn their troops after the last meeting.
‘This makes sense.’
A count who desires the Duke’s downfall and a capable dark mage seeking experimental materials join hands, and to counter the Empire’s envoy, who would be the Duke’s driving force, the count uses his authority to preemptively request an inquisition, and at the right moment, the dark mage sets a trap to ensnare the Duke?
‘It makes sense…’
-Impossible.
An astonishingly elaborate trap, but impossible. For it to work, one of the four—the Duke, the lady, Fernandez, or Kirhas—would have to be in league with them. The trap would only work if they knew about the deal between the chieftain and the Duke.
Excluding Kirhas and Fernandez, the Duke wouldn’t sell out his own trap to commit suicide, so that’s out too. The lady…
‘No way.’
The lady is the one who desires the Duke’s success more than anyone. Fernandez narrowed his eyes.
‘Whoever it is. Whatever happened. We’ll settle this today.’
-Annoying things.
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