Necromancer Of The Black Bible (76)

The interior of the Citadel of Wraiths was saturated with a chilling atmosphere.

Countless wraiths brushed past Verdin, and from every corner nearby, eyes watched him as he entered with Zer.

Large eyes, small eyes.

Some were bloodshot, others glowed with an eerie crimson light.

Their forms were so grotesque that no trace of their living appearance could be guessed.

Yet strangely, Verdin felt no emotion—no unease, no fear.

He simply registered their existence; nothing more.

‘Right. I’m dead.’

Verdin thought, staring at his increasingly translucent hand.

At that moment, Zer wrapped a grotesquely shaped arm around his shoulder and spoke.

-Stay sharp. Not every spirit in the Citadel is as kind as me. See that one over there?

Zer pointed to a massive wraith staring at them.

Its eyes were enormous—so large they were visible even from a distance.

Veins bulged thickly within them.

Beneath the eyes were small holes lined with jagged horns that wriggled constantly.

Zer pointed there and continued.

-That’s Obsiclus. See those little holes on its belly? Those are mouths. Mouths that devour wraiths.

-It… eats wraiths? Why?

-Because ordinary spirits like us slowly dissipate in this state. Like old memories fading away.

At Zer’s words, Verdin looked at his hand again.

It had become much fainter than before—Zer was probably right.

-High-tier spirits are different, but lowly ones like us fade faster the farther we are from our corpses. Because we lose memories. The more memories we lose, the more reason and intellect vanish. When we forget everything from life, we cease to exist entirely.

-So it eats other spirits to avoid disappearing?

-Exactly. By devouring others, it recalls its form from when it was alive.

At first glance, it made no sense.

To remember one’s living self through the act of devouring.

What kind of memory could possibly be recalled through consumption?

Zer, as if reading Verdin’s confusion perfectly, grinned and whispered.

-The agony and screams of being torn apart in its final moments. That’s what it remembers, apparently.

-That’s what it remembers from life?

-How would I know?

With that, Zer pulled Verdin along.

As he was dragged forward, Verdin stared at the giant-eyed wraith and thought.

‘What kind of memories can be sustained by devouring others? If that’s what keeps me here…’

The thought could not continue.

For some reason, focusing on a single thought was difficult.

‘Is this because I’m getting farther from my corpse?

‘Or is something somewhere slowly draining my spirit?

Unable to decide, Verdin simply followed Zer.

After passing the second gate, the scenery changed dramatically.

Where before grotesque, indescribable wraiths had swarmed, now the spirits appeared almost normal.

They retained the forms they had in life.

Some looked so human they seemed alive.

-These ones…

-Pretty normal, right?

When Verdin nodded, Zer laughed loudly and continued.

-These are the chosen spirits.

-Chosen? By whom?

-By the Honored Lord, of course.

Zer cackled and pointed to their necks. Every one wore the same crimson iron collar as Zer.

-We call that “Freedom.”

A slave collar called “Freedom.”

A faint sense of wrongness brushed against Verdin’s fading senses and vanished.

Zer spread his palm before Verdin’s eyes.

-Look closely. This is what happens when you wear “Freedom.”

Verdin quietly examined Zer’s palm.

Broad and large.

It glowed faintly crimson.

Comparing it to his own, Verdin understood what Zer wanted him to see.

‘It’s solid.’

And not only that.

When he touched it, he could feel it.

A spirit able to touch another spirit.

Only then did Verdin realize Zer had been touching him all along.

-You can touch me.

-Hehehe. Now you get why it’s called Freedom, right?

Zer toyed with the chain on his collar as he spoke.

-You can have one too. Then you’ll be just like us.

Zer gestured to the spirits watching them.

They smiled faintly in their direction.

One of them shouted.

-Fresh meat!

Zer replied.

-Something like that! Says Calix sent him.

-Calix!

At the name, the spirits snickered. Though they whispered among themselves, Verdin heard every word clearly.

-Liar Calix.

-He lied to the Lord.

-Lost his Freedom and got kicked out about a week ago, right?

-And in just one week he brings back an atonement “friend”!

-Interesting. Very interesting!

-I’m heading to the Citadel. The atonement ritual should be starting soon.

At the mention of the atonement ritual, most spirits began moving.

They headed toward the massive fortress at the end of the path.

Verdin couldn’t fully grasp their conversation.

So he asked Zer.

-What were they talking about? And what’s this atonement ritual?

Zer grinned and whispered low.

-Exactly what you heard. A week ago, Calix lied to the Honored Lord. The Lord saw through it, stripped him of his Freedom, and cast him out. That’s when he found you.

Verdin’s spirit briefly sharpened.

The memory of meeting Calix not long ago resurfaced.

<I’m interested in you.>

<Somehow, I feel you’ll end up with us.>

Back then, Calix had approached him claiming interest.

And that interest had been this.

Chewing over the memory, Verdin asked Zer.

-Why would a banished Calix show interest in me?

-Hehehe. That’s because…

Zer paused, then pointed toward the fortress.

-So his banished “comrade” could regain Freedom.

-You don’t mean…

He already knew without hearing more.

Calix’s crime, his lost Freedom, and the atonement ritual.

All pointed to one thing.

Zer, watching Verdin silently, spoke.

-Smart. That’s right. A duel. You’ll fight Calix before the Lord inside the Citadel.

-He deceived me.

Anger rippled gently through his spirit.

He had come only to find Princess Lillian. Not to fight a meaningless duel.

Verdin stopped walking.

-I’m leaving.

-Tsk. Too hasty.

Zer approached and continued.

-This is an opportunity for you too. A chance to catch the Lord’s eye.

-What sort of opportunity?

-The chance to gain Freedom.

Verdin stared at the iron collar on Zer’s neck.

The collar called “Freedom.”

He fully understood its importance.

Even in death, it allowed touch as if still alive.

With Freedom, one could live as if reborn.

Already dead—perhaps even eternally.

‘But…’

Living forever was not Verdin’s goal.

Even in death, he desired only one thing.

‘I must find Princess Lillian.’

With his original purpose clear once more, Verdin asked Zer.

-If I win the duel, can I ask the Honored Lord of Wraiths for something other than Freedom?

-Something else?

Zer’s eyes gleamed.

-Ah, right. You said you had a separate reason for wanting to meet the Lord.

Verdin remained silent, and Zer continued.

-If you forfeit Freedom, the Lord will gladly grant it. Though in my opinion, it’s an utterly foolish choice.

Zer looked at Verdin’s fading fingertips.

Verdin noticed the gaze but his eyes did not waver.

Seeing this, Zer pulled Verdin along.

-Come on. You don’t have time. If you don’t want to fade away, fighting before the Honored Lord is your best option.

Verdin could not refuse that.

In the end, he followed Zer into the fortress.

Spirits lined both sides of the inner corridors, eagerly awaiting the duel.

Their glowing crimson eyes looked far more sinister than those of the first wraiths he had met.

As they walked the corridor, Verdin asked Zer.

-How is the duel conducted?

-Look there.

Zer grinned and pointed ahead.

There stood Calix from before, in front of a sword embedded in the floor.

-We fight with swords?

-All duels are like that. First to kill wins. Sword, magic, whatever you were good at in life. Confident?

‘Confidence…’

Verdin recalled his final moments.

The time he was defeated by a young-looking boy.

That boy had felled him with a single rusty iron sword.

Afterward, the boy had even offered to teach him swordsmanship.

Recalling that scene, Verdin gave a wry smile and spoke.

-Hard to say. In life, I was so bad a child had to teach me.

-Tsk.

Zer shook his head in disappointment.

-You were that terrible?

-……

-Damn it.

Zer bit his lip and whispered something to a nearby spirit.

From the talk of bets, it seemed he was trying to switch his wager from Verdin to Calix.

But the other spirit immediately shook its head.

-No can do, Zerdak. You know you can’t switch sides once inside the Citadel.

-But there are exceptions.

-Not even for you.

At the firm refusal, Zer approached Verdin with a scowl.

-You. You better win. I bet a lot of coins on you.

-Coins?

-Currency here. That’s all you need to know. Useless info if you’re just gonna die anyway.

Zer spat the words and vanished with a whoosh.

Now Verdin stood in the very center of the throne hall.

Before him was a single rusty iron sword embedded in the floor; far to his right stood Calix.

Calix looked even fainter than before.

Calix, face desperate, spoke.

-Sorry about this. First time meeting like this, huh?

-Don’t be.

Verdin shrugged.

-I didn’t expect kindness anyway. The world’s always been like this.

In the world he had lived in, no one helped without a price.

And those who gave something for free always took far more in return.

If the living world was like that, there was no reason the afterlife would be different.

‘If you want something, you pay the price and take it.’

Reciting his old survival principle, Verdin reached for the sword.

But his translucent spirit hand passed right through the hilt.

Then a voice rang out.

“You’re in quite a hurry.”

A living human voice.

Looking up, Verdin saw a grotesquely shaped being gazing down at him.

The crown atop its head revealed its identity.

It was the Lord of Wraiths.