Chapter 195

195th Episode

Dark Star Necromancer Hassan

At a corner of the Southodomora East Street lies Hippolyte’s home.

Properties located on East Street have monthly rents exceeding fifty silver coins, making it impossible for just anyone to live here. Consequently, both the people roaming around and the buildings are all dazzling. The neatly organized roads and streetlights made of luminous stones make it impossible not to compare this area with the West Street, where Luna and I have set up residence.

When will Luna and I ever live in such a place?

How does Hippolyte manage to afford the rent for this house?

With these thoughts in mind, I knocked on the elegant ivory-colored door.

Waiting there, the pleasant-smelling Hippolyte would soon open the door and proceed to put us through her absolutely grueling daily training—so I thought.

However, no matter how long I waited, Hippolyte showed no signs of opening the door.

I knocked again.

“…”

Still, even after waiting further, there was neither a reply nor anyone coming to open the door.

On a whim, I pressed my ear to the door to listen for sounds from inside, but there were no noticeable signs of life.

Had she gone out for some errand? Perhaps patrol duty?

When I tugged on the doorknob, the door gently slid open. Since the door wasn’t locked, it seemed she hadn’t gone far.

So, I decided to enter Hippolyte’s cozy home to wait for her. Being alone in a woman’s room…

It was exciting to the point where my excitement swelled.

I briefly thought about rummaging through the drawers but quickly dismissed the idea when I realized why I had such lecherous thoughts. Was it due to an excess of energy in my body?

Having too much energy can also be a problem. While waiting for Hippolyte and preparing to exercise with the thought of swinging a club at the straw dummy in the backyard, my mind wandered.

“Huff…”

In the spacious backyard, under the scorching sun, Hippolyte sat cross-legged, clad in a short training outfit, silently perspiring.

Why is she sitting like that? Is she enjoying the heat?

Suddenly, I recalled that she spends a couple of hours daily basking in the sunlight. She utilizes the light she stores during the day to briefly regain her strength on moonlit nights when she grows weak.

It’s like a solar-powered robot, no doubt.

Hippolyte is an eco-friendly woman.

Thinking that I shouldn’t disturb her meditation, I simply sat under the shade of a tree in the corner and watched the scene.

Wheee…

Occasionally, bees would land on her body, yet Hippolyte remained still, her muscles not moving an inch, her eyes closed, maintaining silence.

Is it even possible for a person to remain so completely still, preserving such a serene silence?

At this point, it seemed less like sunbathing meditation and more like ascetic practice. Is it similar to what hermits on high mountains endure during their meditation and yoga training?

Drip, drip.

Thick beads of sweat dripped down from her neck, flowing into the hollow of her chest before disappearing. Before long, her body began to emit white smoke.

Is it possible for a person’s body to emit smoke?

Of course, it is.

In the middle of winter, if you exercise until you’re drenched in sweat, for some inexplicable reason, steam rises from your body.

But it isn’t winter, nor is it summer, is it? How can someone emit smoke in the full heat of summer? Could she be burning up?

Mo-k, Mo-k.

The smoke emanating from Hippolyte’s body eventually turned dark and ascended high into the sky. It was like a beacon fire.

Is it possible for a person’s body to give off black smoke?

Is Hippolyte burning right now?

I recalled a book of mysteries I secretly read in my father’s study during my childhood. It mentioned a story about a woman who spontaneously burst into flames and burned to d*ath without any warning.

A case of spontaneous human combustion had actually occurred on Earth, even in a world where magic and superstition might be dismissed as trifles. If such mysteries exist here, then in a bizarre world like this, it goes without saying.

Hippolyte must be saved…!

“Hippolyte-san!”

I quickly ran back into her house and rummaged through the drawers.

Is there any water around to cool the burning Hippolyte? As I searched through the drawers, I was utterly astonished to only find underwear for a rather large bust size.

This is insane! With someone on the verge of burning to d*ath, how can there only be such scandalous-sized underwear in this house? How does she live in a place like this?

Eventually, I found a small flower vase in her house. A small, transparent glass vase filled with water.

I rushed over, carrying it, and sprayed all of its contents forcefully onto Hippolyte’s smoky body.

Whoosh!

Sizzle!

It felt as though the fire had truly gone out—the smoking sound was evident. At the same time, the dark smoke rising from her body also dissipated.

I—

I saved Hippolyte!

Slurp.

The eyes that had been closed for a while finally opened. With rivulets of water dripping, Hippolyte, now drenched, was an unexpected sight.

Admittedly, women look beautiful when wet. Like how grilled pork belly tastes amazing when eaten with cooked kimchi, it can’t fail.

Water and young, pretty women are a foolproof combination. Hippolyte must have been more absorbent than I thought.

Slurp.

Her eyes eventually turned towards me.

“…Why did you splash water? What the hell are you doing?”

“Because Hippolyte-san was burning due to the sun, I tried to save you.”

The sense of satisfaction at having saved someone filled my chest. So, with a slightly bashful demeanor, I rubbed my nose with my thumb when—

Hippolyte, furrowing her brows at my fuss, wiped the sweat from her forehead with her palm.

“…Burning? Saving me? No, the dark smoke wasn’t fire—it was polluted mana being purified and sent away.”

“Polluted mana?”

“It’s Hell’s magic. Lately, for some reason, Hell’s power has filled my body. Is it because of the Haji Festival?”

Eventually, Hippolyte stood up.

“I see, you’re here for training again today, I presume. I thought you’d run away after a few days.”

Hippolyte talked as if she were quite surprised to see me coming back every few days to this training ground.

Honestly, her training is so hard that during the hours of avoiding attacks, falling into mud, I think of running away about four or five times.

So I considered quitting, but the one gold coin I paid Hippolyte as a tutoring fee couldn’t be refunded, so I decided to focus on learning.

Also, whether it’s by Hippolyte tampering with me or due to her incredibly impressive training plan—despite feeling like I might d*e during each session, I wake up the next day feeling okay, leading me to consider coming back again.

Not to mention, merely getting to observe Hippolyte’s free-flowing private life like this feels like I’m getting my money’s worth.

Actually, I suspect I should be paying her even more, but I’ll keep quiet about it for now.

*

Splat, pat, pat!

Hippolyte’s fists continuously strike my right cheek, then my left cheek, and again my right cheek.

She likely wasn’t tampering with me on purpose, and it’s because I was really squinting, trying to dodge her attacks.

Hippolyte’s training is always straightforward—dodge three consecutive punches from her, and you pass.

Thus, my body is always covered in bruises and contusions.

However, the fruits of the last few days of training seem to have borne some results, as I managed to continuously dodge her three strikes before my body accumulated more than eight bruises.

“Huff—”

Still, the fatigue is unbearable. As I caught my breath, huffing and puffing with my shoulders, Hippolyte approached with a towel and casually commented.

“Your form has improved. Antiope needed at least a year to reach that level. Perhaps Samaritans do have talent after all?”

“Is that so?”

“By the way, you have quite a few minor injuries and scars.”

Hippolyte’s gaze directed toward my bare upper body. My torso, besides the injuries from Hippolyte’s punches, has several fresh scars, likely due to sparring with minions I summoned during my necromancy practice.

Perhaps it’s because of that experience that I passed today’s training more easily.

Even I think that I’m putting in the effort lately. When was the last time I worked this hard on something since being born into this world?

I sighed, thinking that if I had studied this passionately, my mom would have been very pleased.

During this thought process, Hippolyte spoke up.

“You must have gotten hurt from something quite severe. Are you doing part-time work as an adventurer?”

“Just catching some goblins.”

Of course, the wounds were due to the pack of bone goblins, but that’s something I couldn’t mention. Just as I was about to casually evade the question, Hippolyte frowned.

“Goblins, goblins… getting injured by goblins? I wonder if there’s any meaning to the training you’ve just endured.”

She seems disheartened that I was injured by goblins despite enduring such difficult training.

Then, it appeared she thought of something and added a comment.

“By the way, goblins have changed from their typical nature recently. There have been quite a few hobgoblins that match D-grade. There were even mentions of bone goblins appearing in the eastern forest recently.”

“Bone goblins in the eastern forest?”

“Yes, though it’s said the rookies of the Minerva Guild defeated them, bone goblins and hobgoblins… They are the foul offspring of Tartarus, showing up fearlessly.”

Hippolyte seems to have given a lot of thought to the increasing numbers of goblins recently.

So I asked, wondering if someone of her level, a high-ranking adventurer, might have any leads on the cause or reason.

“By any chance, do you have a clue as to why goblins are increasing so much?”

“A human doesn’t know other humans’ affairs, let alone monster affairs. However, according to some rumors…”

Hippolyte paused speaking suddenly.

Then, she dismissed it with, “No, this isn’t confirmed, so let’s pretend you didn’t hear it—”

What? She starts speaking and cuts it off?

Her tongue is sharper than the relentless fists she used on me earlier.

“What about the goblins? What were you going to say?”

“It’s a secret. Consider it unheard.”

However, Hippolyte had a solid guard, and it seemed there was no chance she’d tell me.

Because of this, my curiosity peaked, and I finally resorted to a forbidden method.

Sleek.

I held up my index finger to show her.

“If you don’t tell me soon, I’ll use the ‘Lord of Hell’ technique.”

“Kuh, t, that…!”

As I made a spinning motion with my index finger in the air, Hippolyte looked flustered and started fumbling around.

Flap.

Soon, something sharp and firm began to stand out in her wet crop top, damp with sweat and water.

“Hmm?”

“Hmph!”

After clearing her throat, Hippolyte crossed her arms, as if shielding her chest.

“Fine, I’ll tell you. But remember, don’t say you heard this from me.”

Hippolyte seemed to gather her composure and glanced around as if confirming no one else could overhear our conversation. Only after ensuring no one else had heard did she continue speaking.

“There are rumors that the king of the goblins has appeared. The king of goblins and orcs, the owner of the loathsome green skin.”

“Is that true?”

“It’s uncertain. However, if that guy really has appeared, Actaeon and I will need to head out for extermination. He’ll be extraordinarily powerful, without doubt.”

If it required Actaeon and Hippolyte to take on, it was much stronger than I originally thought.

“Perhaps, Antiope might move first. The Shrine Knights are sensitive to such matters.”

“Antiope? Don’t the Shrine Knights only deal with matters related to Hell magic?”

“Hence they’re moving. The king of the goblins, according to what I’ve heard, is allegedly of the lineage of Tartarus, a descendant of Tatarus, so my younger sister—.”

Suddenly, Hippolyte stopped speaking mid-sentence. She then opened her narrow eyes and looked into the sky, or, more precisely, at her house visible beyond my shoulder.

“Just checking, but is anything happening with Antiope? Or do you know of any issues with my younger sister?”

“Uh? Antiope? What suddenly—?”

“No, my younger sister has been acting strange recently. She’s always gone for long periods, which isn’t unusual for her, as she often came and went unannounced. She’s also been cutting her hair or drastically changing her appearance whimsically. But lately—”

Hippolyte seemed to suspect something had happened to her younger sister, Antiope. Of course, I knew quite a bit about that.

Indeed, was she a Gold-Tier Adventurer?

Her intuition was sharp—right down to questioning and probing my secret.

Of course, I couldn’t respond with, “I’ve turned Antiope into my slave under the name ‘Holy Knight’!”

So, I lied.

“Well, I’m not sure. I don’t know much about it.”

It’s strange how telling lies works. The first couple of times feel like a sin, and I’d worry about getting caught, but now, I can confidently tell tall tales without any change in expression.

Perhaps I have a talent for lying.

A talent for necromancy.

A talent for lying.

d*mn, I seem to have acquired all the bad stuff.

At this point, I started to feel a little terrified of my own potential.

What is this world trying to make me into?

While I trembled at how far I had fallen, Hippolyte added one more thing.

“By the way, Antiope said she’d like to meet you tonight.”

“Me?”

“Probably regarding cult matters. Since you’ve been deeply involved with the cultists, that’s likely the reason. Besides, where is there any other reason for my younger sister Antiope to want to meet you?”

“That’s likely.”

I made a vague reply. However, Hippolyte’s eyes were watching me carefully, clouded with ambiguity.

It feels kind of like…

A meeting between a sister-in-law and me.

Of course, that’s completely absurd.

Thus, as the evening passed,

Before returning to my hut, I headed to the inn near the North Gate of Southodomora, where Antiope had arranged to meet.

The North Gate of Southodomora is quiet and lacks visitors, making it a perfect place for secret rendezvous points.

For Antiope to call me here…

Why?

With some tension, I approached the inn at the North Gate. The old, shabby inn was nowhere one would suspect to find part of the Shrine Knights, with its highest and most secluded room.

After knocking on the door twice, I heard movement inside.

Shuffle, shuffle.

“It’s me.”

After briefly saying that, I opened the door and stepped in.

Inside was a small, rundown bed with a woman on it, fidgeting anxiously, leg twitching while smoking a pipe.

Tat-tat-tat.

She was clad entirely in black leather, from her wrists to her ankles, making her look like a motorcyclist waiting to ride. The tattoos, smoking, and tanned skin made it clear she was quite a wild type. Motorcyclist vibes.

Antiope was truly a delinquent.

Still, the long, bleached hair, bronze-colored skin, and black leather ensemble suited her well. It looked expensive, fancier than the alligator leather clothes I wore. d*mn, it was enviable.

“So, why did you call me here?”

I asked Antiope indifferently, showing absolutely no nervousness and maintaining the air of someone giving orders. After all, I must be a god-like figure to her at this point.

Though I’m not sure if my act is convincing.

While Antiope was nervously smoking her cigarette, she flinched and muttered.

“I, it was said I should… report back once a week…”

“Oh, that’s right.”

The casual way I mentioned it seemed to confirm she hadn’t forgotten. Smarter than I thought?

“So, what do you want to report?”

As I closed the inn door, Antiope began shaking her legs anxiously again before suddenly standing up.

She began unbuttoning the buckles attached to her leather outfit, one by one.

What is this? What’s happening?

Honestly, I had no choice but to feel flustered.

Soon, her well-toned torso was revealed.

“…A report about not removing the tattoos…”

Indeed. This was the report.

The sight of this efficient woman baring herself while enduring great embarrassment was quite something.

While she was covering the vital areas with her hands and arms in a teasing manner, the act was even more provocative, sending a rush of bl**d straight to my head.

I hadn’t expected her to go this far.

If I were truly a cruel deity, an evil villain, what would I say at a moment like this? After contemplating, I chose a detached demeanor.

“I must check to confirm. Remove your hands.”

[Author’s Note]

The 77th Festival has started, and lots of interesting articles have been uploaded. I, on the other hand, missed the timing and never got to participate in this event.

Nevertheless, many readers are paying to read, and I hope they might also take a look at my content! I’m also striving hard toward writing 14,400 preferred works!

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