16. To The Pantheon

He had reinforced the Skeleton for defense. If Fafnir was the sword, this one was the shield.

If I’m going to lean hard on Life Drain, I’ll need a bodyguard.

There wasn’t much life force to be wrung out of the dead. Using Life Drain on the Orcs, he’d learned there was a ceiling on the stats he could absorb. But boss monsters like the Goblin Shaman gained at a different rate, didn’t they?

Maybe the System treats a boss monster’s biometric data as a separate category.

It was worth testing. The trouble was that Life Drain only worked at close range.

“Guard me well.”
“Kerrrrk!”

The Skeleton worked its jawbone.

— You look about on par with an Armored Zombie. Didn’t you put a touch too much effort into him?

“In terms of pure combat power, there’s not much difference.”

Yujin didn’t deny it.

— Sounds like you mean there’s another reason.

“He’s bone, so he’s light, and there’s no embalming to redo — no flesh to rot.”

Unlike a zombie racing its own decay clock, this one would keep working as long as he fed it spirit-power now and then. Shatter the bones to pieces and they’d mend in no time. A minion he could run indefinitely, so long as it didn’t blow apart or melt away.

— Oho. So my master has it all planned out.

“Master?”

— I can hardly go on addressing you with no title at all, can I?

“Sounds like it’d wound your pride.”

— With my grudge against Baek Seonghyeon still unsettled, I haven’t the mind to stand on pride or anything else.

Fafnir’s answer came brisk and clean.

“My business partner. I’ll leave this fellow with you for a bit.”
“Where are you off to?”
“The Pantheon. Now that my level’s up, they want me to come collect a holy spell.”

Shin Junseok blinked, over and over. A moment passed.

“Y-you, you-you-you. You were in the Priest job class?”
“Yeah. A devout believer, in my own way.”

A Saint, apparently, in his own way. The only worshipper the Giant of Defiance had was Yujin himself, so he prided himself on a faith deeper than any other Priest’s.

“God damn… What an outrage to heaven and man! It wouldn’t be strange if a bolt of lightning struck out of a clear sky!”

There was no need to deny it that hard. Yujin gave the back of his head a hard scratch at the violent reaction.

“Fafnir. Say something.”

— Oh. Lord. I repent that I failed to keep Your word that we must not doubt our brethren.

For fuck’s sake.

He gave up trying to win the two of them (?) over and changed the subject.

“Did you register the patent for the Mid-grade Potion?”
“Ah. It’ll go up for review before long.”
“Fast.”
“Take my time with it and all I’d do is breed competitors, wouldn’t I? I can’t stand dragging things out.”

Yujin let out a short snort.

“I really did pick a fine business partner.”
“There’s still the blending apparatus to build before I can run it as a mass-production line, but that’ll be sorted soon.”
“That part’s on you.”

Even before the regression, he’d never had any interest in the Grand Alchemist’s head for business. Left alone, the man would handle it just fine.

The only thing I’ll get involved in is the alchemy recipes. Make your own money, too, and put in the labor whenever I need alchemy done.

I really have landed myself a splendid sla— no, a splendid business partner.

“The trouble is publicity, though. The expo isn’t until next year, so I’ve no way to get the word out.”
“Well, just in case, set a few potions aside for me. If the chance comes up, I’ll do a little advertising.”
“Understood.”

Shin Junseok handed over a single Mid-grade Potion with the air of a man not expecting much of it.

“When’s the Darkness Orb coming in?”
“It’s on order, so soon. But are you really sure you mean to pay me for it…?”
“Two days and it’s done, so just hang on a little.”

To rest, and to take stock of three days’ worth of takings, he gave [the Scraps] a holiday. There were hundreds of D-grade mana stones, and once he unloaded the Blood Axe it would bring in hundreds of millions at the least, more than enough to clear the sum he’d borrowed from Shin Junseok over the past week.

“I’m begging you. The loan capital is running dry!!”

Shin Junseok pleaded, desperate, his voice all but breaking into tears.

On the way to Seoul, alone for the first time in days, Yujin glanced out the window. The scenery slid past at speed, and he sat there savoring the ease of the taxi.

— Is it really so pleasant?

A single thread of thought brushed past Yujin’s ear. It was Fafnir, tucked away inside the Ring of Black Darkness, and the thought carried a discontent he couldn’t quite hide.

— It is. Camping out to come pay my respects to you cost me no end of grief, you know.

Yujin replied in kind, channeling his mana to project the thought back.

— Hmph.

A brief silence. How long did they pass that way? At length Fafnir, dwelling in the ring, sent his thought once more.

— What a thoroughly disagreeable man. Won’t you grant me one small wish and let me see the scenery outside?

“With that bulk, you riding in a car would be a public nuisance.”

The Draconian’s body was as big as the taxi itself. Short of tearing off the roof and turning it into a convertible, there was no way for Fafnir to ride.

— Then rent something like a truck!

“I can’t drive.”

— Even a rust-bucket clunker will do. I’ll talk you through the lessons.

“What lessons, from a man thirty-five years dead? You think the road laws haven’t changed since?”

— Grghhh.

Fafnir ground his teeth as if in vexation. Yujin drove in the final nail.

“I don’t even have a license. So forget it.”

— I’m begging you, at least get a license. I have a right to watch over a changed world.

“For free?”

— Fine. I’ll turn a blind eye to one round of private retribution.
— To think the vow that I mustn’t lay a hand on the innocent could be sold off this cheap.
— …

Hey. You crying? Are you crying?

Heh heh heh. Did I needle him too hard?

Before the regression Fafnir had never been this expressive. His longer stint as an earthbound spirit this time around must have worn his emotions thin, too.

Chatting with Fafnir there in the ring, before he knew it he’d entered Seoul.

The Pantheon had appeared out of nowhere after the Great Cataclysm. The gods’ dwellings had revealed themselves all over the world, six of them in Korea alone. The one Yujin was making for stood north of the National Assembly Building on Yeouido.

Strangely built thing, truly.

Columns reminiscent of the Parthenon. Roof tiles that blended Korean and Japanese temple styles. The pillars shooting straight up into the sky called the Tower of Babel to mind, and beyond that, the whole place was a bizarre design that folded in countless other religious and cultural styles.

“Cheap, cheap! A relic that boosts the power of Aesir-line holy spells, just five million won!”
“An owl carving beloved of the war god of Olympus, seven hundred and fifty thousand won!”
“A saint’s relics, going for…”

The stalls were thick enough to bring a traditional market to mind. The wares the merchants had spread out snagged the eyes and the feet of the pilgrims headed for the Pantheon. “Pilgrims,” though, was the generous word; most of them had come with thoroughly worldly aims, to coax more holy spells and blessings out of the Pantheon’s Constellations.

What’s worldly is the Constellations, the way they demand offerings from their faithful so brazenly.

A moment ago you were telling me to bring you tribute.

The Priest class drew its power from the society of worshipped gods, the so-called stellar field. Maybe that was why: unlike the other classes, it had a way to grow stronger that didn’t hinge on leveling up.

That way was offerings, or tribute. One presented gold, silver, and treasures that passed as currency among the gods one served, or some article a particular Constellation was likely to favor. Even something like the “saint’s relics” from that vendor’s cry just now had no value beyond its religious meaning, yet in a society of gods like Nirvana it was prized as something tremendously precious.

You think they’d lay something worth real money out on the roadside?

Swindlers, the lot of them. He ignored the touting pouring in from every side and headed straight for the Pantheon.

The Pantheon’s entrance came into view only after a climb of one hundred and eight steps. Not an escalator in sight, never mind the elevator no high-rise would be without.

The idea being, learn a little humility if you’d receive a great and mighty Constellation?

— At this rate it’s a downright bumper crop of bullshit.

Yujin held no warm feelings toward the Constellations.

Voyeurs, the whole lot of them. Peeping is all they ever do.

Forcing down the displeasure boiling up in him, he pressed on.

In that instant, as if someone had hit a mute button, the noise outside cut off, and the Seoul cityscape mirrored at his back drowned in darkness. Inside the dwelling of the gods, a heavy silence hung. The countless constellations carved in relief across the dome-shaped roof began to glow.

Negative waves came pouring down over Yujin.

He was a Necromancer, and for wielding a power that defied death, the Constellations rejected him.

I’m in a foul mood, so do be quiet. Constellation.

The stars winked out fast. The moment the Constellations read the spirit-power lodged in Yujin’s body, they withdrew their interest. The sky emptied of all light and dyed itself in darkness.

Kronos set a single dot upon the empty sky, a star that kindled into a soft radiance.

Is it done?

So you’re as useless as ever, you mean.

Ho-oh.

An exclamation of admiration slipped out of him before he knew it.

Not bad at all.

Unholy Blessing was an outrageous buff that boosted the undead’s combat ability. Not an instant-activation skill but a conditional one, and on top of that came Wedge of Retribution, which could serve as buff and attack both. Skills with character, and superb in effect besides.

How’ll they hold up in actual combat, I wonder.

Unholy Blessing was the buff-type skill handed to ordinary Priest classes, a holy spell granted when a Priest chose the mythos he’d serve. Yujin had chosen the being he’d serve by irregular means, which was why it had only been added now. Wedge of Retribution, by contrast, was an uncommon skill that carried both properties.

Best to get a feel for it as I go.

So a Constellation nobody even knows exists can’t grow its following, either.

Constellation. From here on, live a little harder. Maybe then you’ll shed the “useless” label.

Kronos thrashed about wildly.

For all his talk, the more ways to grow stronger the better. An unexpected windfall. He kept his swelling chest in check, yet couldn’t stop the corners of his mouth from twitching the whole way.

On the way back down the steps, Kronos had gone abruptly quiet, for some reason, the moment they left the Pantheon. Only moments before, he’d been chattering away with all his energy.

Well, he’s got plenty to chew over, I suppose.

Kronos had been registered in the Pantheon as a Constellation governing a new domain. Which was to say, there was no going back to what had been. Even if, by some stroke of luck, he dragged Zeus down from the throne and became king of the gods once more, he would exist as the Giant of Defiance now, not the Harvester.

It’s not as if he didn’t already know that.

He’d need some time, at least, to untangle the snarl of thoughts. Leaving the silenced Kronos to himself, Yujin reached the bottom of all one hundred and eight steps.

— Hmm. Truly curious.

This time it was Fafnir who sent a thought.

— What is it you saw that you’d call curious?
— I’ll tell you later.
— Even a minion’s entitled to a secret or two, I suppose.

Yujin didn’t press. It wasn’t as if Fafnir could do him any harm. They’d come to terms because their interests lined up, had even gone so far as to strike a contract, so he’d grant him that much.

“Hey. Fancy seeing Cheon Yujin coming out of the Pantheon.”

Hold on.

A voice that stirred old nostalgia and displeasure both at once stopped Yujin in his tracks. He turned his head to find a man whose face was strikingly spattered with freckles glaring at him. The corners of the man’s lips curled up faintly. An expression of scorn and malice.

“Who was it again?”
“Wow. Barely out of the orphanage and already you’ve forgotten me, looks like.”

The man swaggered closer.

“It’s me. Park Seonguk. You ought to at least remember your big bro’s name.”

Killing intent he couldn’t hide gleamed in his rolling, bloodshot eyes.

Ah. Now I remember.

Memories of the distant past streamed through Yujin’s mind like a panorama.