The Legendary Spearman Returns

Side Story Chapter 131

Theta, the Sword Emperor, and the others arrived near the east gates of Arcadia using a teleportation spell.

None of them said a word. The three mysterious intruders running down the empty street didn’t even register anymore.

Theta broke the silence.

“What in the world... is all this?”

Living up to his title of the only Eighth Circle human mage, Theta had already cast a levitation spell on everyone else, allowing them to look beyond the gates.

“Aren’t they undead?” Marcus grunted.

An army was assembling near the east gate, dense as a swarm of ants. The party could see monsters drawn from the Black Monster Forest and skeletons by the hundreds. They were a minor issue—the real problem was the dullahans, the headless knights, they could see here and there.

Dullahans were known as the second most powerful undead for a reason. They were sturdy, skilled swordsmen, and had an almost infinite amount of stamina. Thus, only A-Class knights could easily eliminate a dullahan, and it took at least an advanced B-Class knight, an expert, just to kill them.

“I can see... at least one hundred dullahans,” the Sword Emperor murmured. His usual relaxed laid-back expression was flinty and grim. The ever relaxed Valmont looked no happier than him.

“...We have to stop them,” Selim quietly said. “I made a promise to protect this place no matter what it takes.”

Theta chuckled. “Since the client is my superior and he gave me instructions, I guess there’s no other choice. Shit, I now have to fight guys who don’t even die. Wait, are they technically already dead? In any case, I’ll charge Iceline double—no, quadruple the original fee.”

Mana-charged thunder rumbled in the sky, summoned by Theta’s magic.

“Now, let’s begin,” the archmage declared. “There was a man mad enough to fight an insane one against a million battle, so we can at least take on a few ten thousands, considering who’s here right now, can’t we?”

Selim met the others’ eyes one by one, and then nodded.

“We will strike first.”

* * *

-If you have made your decision, let us begin the ritual.

A pool of light spread out from Crevasse’s gigantic body—he was using polymorph, a transformation spell unique to dragons, the supreme creatures.

“Mmm....” Kireua couldn’t help grunting at the very handsome black-haired man that emerged. Although the man’s looks were one thing, his ability to appear right in front of Kireua using a single spell was marvelous.

“I forgot to tell you one thing,” Crevasse said.

“What is it?”

“These undead belong to your father, so you’re free to take as many of them as you wish. The maximum number of undead you can control, however, depends solely on your proficiency.”

“What do you mean?” Kireua asked.

“...I have to be a teacher now too, hmm? ” Crevasse let out a quiet sigh. He gathered his mana, creating several balls of fire. “You know of the fireball spell.”

“Yes, I know that much.”

“It’s a rudimentary magic spell that any Third Circle mages can utilize. However...”

Kireua’s eyes widened as the fireballs grew to ten, twenty, thirty, until a swarm of fireballs filled danced before Kireua’s eyes. His jaw dropped. There were hundreds of them, at least. The radiant heat made Kireua sweat.

“Not all Third Circle mages can do this. Not only do they need to have a large amount of mana available, but they must also be able to calculate multiple magic formulas at once in their heads.”

“...I understand what you mean.” Kireua said, nodding.

Black mages were condemned by the entire continent, and it went without saying that necromancers, who possessed the same abilities as black mages, were treated the same. However, necromancers were rare and weren’t able to control more than a certain number of undead due to their limits in terms of demonic power and abilities.

“The total number of undead gathered here is nearly three hundred thousand, including the ones who slumber in the ground,” Crevasse explained. “You should note that I can control at most ten percent of them without the lichs’ help.”

Even ten percent of three hundred thousand was still thirty thousand. Black dragons were the only dragons who could control demonic power; Crevasse truly lived up to his title.

“I heard a human saying that claims that a tiger does not father a son of a bitch.” Crevasse smiled thinly. “I look forward to seeing your results.”

“Umm, isn’t it supposed to be a ‘dog’, not a ‘son of a bitch’?”

“Are you talking back to me?” Crevasse scowled.

Kireua’s mouth snapped shut. He had heard about how ill-tempered dragons were—like always, rumors exist for a reason. Follow current s on ɴoᴠel ꜰɪre.nᴇt

“Indeed, I have to admit that your temper and the arrogance in your eyes are just like your father’s.”

Kireua had enough and put his foot down.

“...I can’t let you insult His Majesty, even if you’re a great dragon.”

“What?”

Crevasse’s murderous energy overwhelmed Kireua, but the prince had no intention of backing down. He respected the Emperor of Avalon far too much to bear this insult.

Of course, there was something else that he was counting on.

“The ‘Eternal Vow’.”

“...What?”

“Helping me is part of your Vow, so beating me or harming me in any way is a violation of that Vow,” Kireua reminded Crevasse.

An intense staredown began between the two men.

“I really don’t like you. You’re a perfect replica of him,” Crevasse grumbled.

“Thank you for the compliment.”

“Let’s see if you’re as skilled as you are sly,” Crevasse said, allowing his murderous energy to dissipate.

Kireua was surprised to realize that the pressure he had been under was weaker than he had expected. From what he heard, Dragon Fear dredged up terror from deep within the most primordial instincts of its victims. Kireua had a rough idea as to why Crevasse’s Dragon Fear was bearable; there was one big difference between Kireua’s past and current self. The three enormous powers dormant inside him: the Evil Sins' powers.

“Let’s do a test,” Crevasse said.

“A test?”

“I shall test you to see if you are worthy of my help.”

Kireua frowned. “Wait a minute.”

Even at this moment, Arcadia was under attack by the mysterious intruders. Kireua had no time to waste here!

“Isn’t that also a violation of your Eternal Vow?” Kireua asked.

“It doesn’t matter since I don’t have any lingering feelings about my life anyway.”

Kireua gaped at him. Was he serious?

“On a side note, your father can dominate and control all the undead gathered here without a lich’s help.”

“Are you seriously telling me to do the same?”

“Seriously, no,” Crevasse sarcastically answered.

Although Kireua was irritated by Crevasse’s obviously low opinion of him, he had to consider that Crevasse was comparing him to the Emperor of Avalon.

“At least thirty percent.” Crevasse shrugged. “I’ll admit you are worth my help if you can do that much.”

Kireua wanted to shout, “What the hell!” Even Crevasse himself had said that controlling ten percent of the undead legion was his limit, but he was asking Kireua to control the triple what he could do.

On top of that, Crevasse made it clear that the number was not negotiable:

“If you fail to control even one hundred undead less than ninety thousand, you fail the test. I told you before that dying isn’t a bad option for me.”

“Don’t you think you’re making an unreasonable demand?”

Crevasse raised an eyebrow. “Considering the fact that you’re a maniac who possesses three Evil Sins' powers at once, it’s not totally unreasonable.”

But Kireua had never used those powers! Aside from the ebon flame that Coal created, Kireua knew nothing about his Evil Sins' powers.

“There is another reason you have to take this test.”

“What is it now?” Kireua grumbled.

“The lynchpin of this undead legion is twelve death knights and five arch-lichs.”

“Even if you say that, I don’t really understand...”

“They’re people who reached the peak of their art before their deaths, but they abandoned their honor and souls and became undead. Do you think they would be willing to have two masters?”

Kireua recalled that death knights were undead made with the bodies and souls of Masters, and mages above the Sixth Circle had to be sacrificed to make arch-lichs. Even more troubling, making such undead required more than ingredients—it was necessary to get the consent of the bodies and souls’ original owners.

“Joshua Sanders is our original master, and you’re his son. However, all of them will make the same choice as I unless they have a compelling reason,” Crevasse explained.

Kireua bit his lower lip. He couldn’t let them simply disappear from existence because they weren’t willing to obey him. The Emperor of Avalon had trusted Kireua with his legion; thus, Kireua refused to waste even one of them.

“Earn their recognition first. Controlling thirty percent of the legion is the next step.”

“How do I earn their recognition?” Kireua asked.

“There is a good reason why they are called the highest class of undead. Each one has their own personality. In other words, you will need a different approach for each one. Bring them to their knees through battle, persuade them, or win them over with something they desire. Finding the right approach is part of the test.”

Kireua thought for a moment and then took a big step forward.

“I’ll do it.”

“I knew it. Someone else will explain the site of the test.”

Kireua tilted his head.

“Someone else? What?”

But Crevasse had already turned to leave by the time Kireua opened his mouth.

Kireua understood the part about the testing site, since there were seventeen doors interspersed along the walls of the cavern; he assumed that those doors led to the souls of the twelve death knights and the five arch-lichs. But then, who was left to perform this explanation?

As if on cue, Kireua felt something fall on his shoulder. He nearly jumped out of his skin. How could he have not detected someone coming this close to him?

“W-Who is it?” Kireua asked.

He turned around and immediately froze stiff. Someone very familiar was standing right behind him. It had been years, and yet nothing had changed.

“Long time no see, Kireua.”

“Te-Te-Te...!”

A woman of surreal beauty smiled back at Kireua. Her healthy brown skin looked like it was molded from dark chocolate, and her ears were long. Her name was Aisha Sestropi, and she had taught Kireua her stealth technique.

“Teacher!” Kireua shouted.

She was one of the great Nine Stars, the infamous Assassin King.