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 athunk, 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.
