Chapter 221

Episode 221

The Uncle Who Was a d*ath Knight

Episode 221 – The Uncle Who Was a d*ath Knight #1

Clang, clatter, creak.

In the darkness where the Manticores had fled, there were loud sounds of metal clashing against iron plates.

These didn’t sound like the natural noises animals would make; it was clearly artificial, tools or equipment of some sort, rattling noisily in the desolate ravine cliff where few people ventured.

Who could be here in such a desolate place?

Such thoughts had barely crossed my mind when—

Flash.

Two pale blue lights shining brightly in the dark resembled ghostly flames. The scene was strange, but seeing this, I managed to shake off some of my frozen stupor.

No matter what it is, there’s a dangerous creature here. Pulling out my club, I adjusted my stance like an experienced swordsman.

You there, I see you have one hand holding a torch, the other a weapon. That’s well-balanced, though it’s for the better if you don’t intend to fight me. If you come at me, I’ll have no choice but to k*ll you, necromancer.

The voice emanating from the darkness was deep and chilling, like a cold hand running along your spine.

It was undeniably the eerie sensation that creatures from the undead or monsters exuded. And, its manner of speech was eerily coherent, much more so than I expected, which made me even more tense.

If there’s a creature this logical in a place like this, it’s natural to be even more cautious.

Clank, rattle.

The blue lights grew closer, finally reaching a distance where I could clearly make it out with the light of my torch.

It turned out to be an eerie pair of blue eyes through a skeletal eye hollow.

Amid the corroded brass armor stood a skeleton, its blue eyes gleaming as it approached me. This was clearly a d*ath Knight, one of those infamous undead warriors, I realized.

It felt less like a skeletal soldier, and more like a knight or even noble skeletal figure—perhaps even appropriate for Baron Rane, the nobleman I’d encountered previously. Yes, this was definitely a Skeletal Knight.

What startled me was that, rather than the mindless monster I had imagined, this creature was talking to me with logical clarity.

An enemy?

Or perhaps one I don’t necessarily need to fight?

As I hurriedly thought over distinguishing friend from foe, the Rusty Brass-Armored Skeletal Knight swept its bone fingers over the dead Manticore at its feet.

“A juvenile specimen. Still, knocking down even this one indicates some skill. You’ve got decent pawns at your command, youngster.”

This Manticore was juvenile?

And “youngster,” was that referring to me?

“Are you calling me a ‘youngster’?”

Who else could it be? To be honest, with some luck, you might qualify as one.

The absence of warmth or flesh seemed to make the Skeletal Knight’s manner somewhat chilling.

Still, it didn’t show any overt hostility toward me and was simply dragging the young Manticore carcass somewhere with a skeletal hand.

It didn’t feel as though the knight perceived me as an enemy. It was as if it didn’t even consider me worth noting.

Fortunately, it seemed I wouldn’t have to confront or defeat this skeletal knight. After all, this creature had easily frightened off young Manticores that I could barely defeat even with all my strength—it was undoubtedly immensely powerful.

“Hey, what are you doing? Follow me.”

“Huh?”

I’m offering this Manticore you killed as an offering.

An offering?

Was it going to perform some kind of ritual?

I understood what he was saying but couldn’t comprehend why I should follow this bizarre undead creature or why I should participate in offering.

If you stay here much longer, the scent of bl**d might attract monsters from deep underground. If you’d rather end up as monster bait, feel free to stay.

Now it made sense.

This skeletal knight was, unexpectedly, an excellent teacher.

Still, a hint of hesitation lingered about following this strange Undead creature.

Gruh…

Agumon, the Bone Wyvern I had just named, started following the Skeletal Knight, and realizing I’d be left alone, I reluctantly followed.

“Hey, Agumon, wait up!”

*

How far had we ventured into the deep recesses of the cave while following the skeletal knight? When the blazing torch extinguished, I activated a light spell, “Graceful Radiance,” to survey the surroundings.

All I could see were hard, cold stone walls, strange moss, some terrifying spiders, and lizards—nothing more.

After descending into lower slopes of an ever-decreasing tunnel system that went deeper into the mountain, I couldn’t help but reflect on whether following this skeletal knight had been the right choice.

Is he planning to eat me or something?

While pondering this, I boarded a gondola-like contraption.

Creeeaaak.

Hanging precariously by some old rope, the gondola was filled to capacity with the skeletal knight, me, Agumon, and the juvenile Manticore’s corpse.

If this were an elevator, one might expect lights indicating overload, but the skeletal knight acted as if weight was no concern, slowly pulling on the rope to descend.

Creeeeak, creeeeak.

The old, worn pulleys and the frail rope gave the impression of breaking at any second. Looking down into the infinite abyss below us, I couldn’t help but feel a pang of fear—would this descent end in disaster?

Don’t stare into the abyss too much.

“Huh?”

When you concentrate on the abyss, Erebores also stares back.

I wasn’t sure what exactly he meant, but it seemed the knight was advising me not to look down. It reminded me of the time my instructor trained me not to look down while standing at great heights during military exercises.

Creak, groan.

As the terribly old gondola threatened to collapse or snap at any moment, I clutched tightly onto it, when the growing light began to relieve my anxiety.

The deeper darkness revealed a strangely glowing blue world. Fungi and moss glimmered in eerie blue light. Bat-like creatures flitted gracefully through the air, themselves radiating faint lights.

Jellyfish-like creatures and various glowing birds filled the void, and a pleasant breeze wiped the cold sweat from my forehead.

This is the Manticore Valley, or as we call it, the Valley of Life. Many creatures thrive here, living off the remains of a colossal being.

“Hmm, remains?”

This canyon and cliff originate from a part of Great Beast Typhon’s massive corpse. Can you see it there?

The knight pointed to a towering structure that pierced the darkness, almost resembling a massive beam extending from the stars to the ground.

That’s Typhon’s leg bone.

“Wow, unbelievable.”

Whatever creature it was, it was incredibly powerful and massive. Just imagining its hundred-meter shin bone brings forth a feeling of awe. The thought of such a beast roaming around outside inspires sheer terror.

Still, despite such fearsomeness, the surrounding scenery was surprisingly beautiful. Even in such a harsh environment, life persists, creating its own ecosystem.

Adapting and evolving.

Just as I have managed to survive and adapt to this world, these creatures make the most of their circumstances.

Creeeak, thud.

As I reflected on this, the gondola halted. In front of us lay a slanted path carved into the cliffside.

It had ample space.

Beyond it stood something that resembled a modest cabin, patched together with huge bones like dinosaur ribs, moss, and rough hides.

Although the skeletal knight hadn’t explicitly explained it yet, I instantly recognized this as his hideout.

Sweep.

The skeletal knight arrived at its hideout with the corpse of the Manticore in hand.

The necromancer. You may not understand now, but both life and d*ath deserve respect in their own way.

He then placed the Manticore’s carcass on a strange altar, lighting a fire.

Fwoosh.

As the fire caught, long-necked bird-like creatures descended from the shadows, tearing into the Manticore’s flesh.

Eek, eek.

I couldn’t reconcile how any of this behavior showed respect.

And yet, to think an undead would preach about respecting d*ath felt absurd, almost like a chicken mascot lecturing about respecting chickens.

I asked, “Are you the famous named monster, the d*ath Knight?”

At this, the skeletal knight, whose cold, blue eyes flickered as the corpse burned, clenched its jaw. Was it smiling? Hard to tell.

“d*ath Knight, named monster. I’ve apparently become quite the figure out there in the world, merely due to chasing off some greenhorns who ventured this way.”

The knight clenched his fist toward the sky as if in some silent gesture.

What’s the name they use for me out there in the world?

“Uh, I actually don’t know.”

Is that so. Well, names aren’t that important anyway. d*ath fades memories, and eventually all deeds and glories become distant pasts.

The blue lights in his skull flickered as he appeared to be lost in thought.

Even though this knight now wore tattered, rusted armor, I couldn’t help but imagine that he must have been someone important or a famous knight in life, perhaps even a noble.

While pondering this, Agumon, the Bone Wyvern I had resurrected, rubbed its head against the skeletal knight’s body.

Skrrrr, skrrr.

Strange. You are my follower now, yet it seems you follow this skeletal knight more closely than me. Do you feel a sense of kinship because he’s also skeletal? If that’s the case, I can respect that.

This Bone Wyvern seems to have its own will, a rare trait among the undead. The necromancy you wield feels quite different from what I’ve encountered before.

“Feels different?”

The knight, who had been stroking the Bone Wyvern’s head as though taming a mighty beast, continued.

It’s not about raising irrational minions but more like infusing life to birth something new.

“Birth?”

He means this creature is closer to a living Bone Wyvern than an undead.

Could it be understood as an Undead-form life or something similar? That’s what I gathered.

Swish, what?

You have abilities you’re unaware of?

The knight’s reaction indicated he seemed unfamiliar with his own powers. Was it an innate ability, or did he acquire it later? Perhaps through some relic?

You’re proving to be insightful.

With these thoughts swirling, the knight stood and said,

“Good timing. You might consider helping me with something. If you do, I’ll teach you some skills as a favor.”

“Skills? What kind of skills?”

… Are you here to seek knowledge from this body like others?

“No, not me.”

Then why are you here? How did you find this forbidden part of the demon’s realm?

Claiming I’m here to exterminate the d*ath Knight, would feel suspiciously like getting my skull bashed in by his skeletal fist.

“I followed a snake and found this hole.”

A snake? By following a snake? That sounds absurd—this area isn’t something anyone could stumble upon easily.

The skeletal knight expressed incomprehension with a “Hmm” sound, and I felt the same way. We were speaking the same language, but understanding wasn’t clicking.

Nevertheless, it was fine. If you help me, I’ll ensure you become a warrior unmatched in the world—a rule I’ve set for myself. Rules must be followed.

In short, the skeletal knight seemed to need help and offered to train me in return.

Training, yet again. Though I’ve already gone through it with Hippolyte until I couldn’t stand it, I found myself in this dark corner again.

This skeletal knight radiated confidence about his skills, and I couldn’t help but wonder what kind of training he had in mind.

“What can I do to help you?”

I’m nurturing flowers. I’d love your help in planting their seeds. This isn’t an easy task. Follow me into my abode; leave the Bone Wyvern outside.

Thus, the knight led me into his humble cabin. Inside, there was an old cauldron, signs of a fire having burned, and an aged leather bed.

Closer inspection revealed a small flowerpot on the desk, filled with soil.

The sense of life here made it evident that the knight had quietly lived alone for a considerable time.

At least more than a year, I would guess.

How could someone endure solitude this way? Is it possible only because they are undead? Don’t they feel lonely? And why grow flowers?

While pondering these questions, I noticed a leather canvas in a corner, upon which was a black charcoal sketch of what seemed like a woman with long hair.

Before I could examine it more closely, the knight draped a piece of cloth over it.

So, can you manage this?

“Grow flowers? Isn’t it just about watering and waiting?”

These flowers are special. They require the affection of nymphs to bloom. Without it, they’ll need essence from Ceres or something equivalent in vitality. Given your unique kind of necromancy, I believe you might be able to achieve it.

Ah, so it’s some special flower.

Does it require magical abilities?

Still, I have no idea how to do that.

Saying things like “Wake up, flower!” wouldn’t likely do the trick.

So, when I picked up a watering can and sprinkled the soil generously with water…

Idiot! You watered it too much! That’s the water from the River Styx! Overwatering like that could k*ll the seed!

It was only about a cupful, yet the knight was startled and visibly irritated.

Though he had invited me to try, he now seemed upset. Typical stubborn undead.

I, feeling quite embarrassed, recalled his mention of nurturing affection from nymphs.

Then, I pulled out a vitality potion Luna had given me and dripped a few drops over the pot.

At that moment,

Psschh.

An odd transformation began in the flowerpot, as a sprout broke through the coarse soil.

What is this?

[Author’s Note]

Caffuccino, Goest, Yanggangmaster, Joychang, KuandIceCream, laureled, Sahanaemal, Goyangshi, YeonjibKimssi, Quickstand, Kadeom, Dolkingkong, Potatoserver, thank you sincerely for your support with the patron coupons…!!!

Both the manuscript coupons, recommendations, and your comments serve as great motivation for feeding the little monsters…

You are truly feeding the monsters…!!!

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