Ch.190Chapter 190

The unjustly killed emperor received divine selection and began his revenge with an army of the dead!

…such rumors began to spread throughout Manheimr. However, few people paid much attention.

The Empire and Manheimr had little connection. Why should they care about problems arising in the Empire?

“Tsk, tsk. Those empty-headed fools who only spout meaningless words are good at starting civil wars. And what? A dead emperor returning?”

“That’s what I’m saying. What could possibly drive people living in year-round warmth to start fighting?”

“Um… brother, we also had a civil war recently—”

“Come on! That was a war started by those Imperial bastards pretending to be loyal like Northerners! That scholar I met the other day told me so!”

Most Northerners harbored no good feelings toward the Empire. The history of raids and subjugation, written in blood, had gone on far too long.

Of course, everyone knew that reconciliation begins with compromise.

But why should our side be the one to compromise?

Both sides believed the other was more at fault, so compromise was impossible, and over time, festering emotions manifested in petty ways.

The Empire sold grain at exorbitant prices, thinking, “These barbarians have no way to make money except through raiding anyway.”

The Northerners attacked the Empire, thinking, “If we can’t buy grain even when we have money, we might as well risk our lives raiding.”

At least Wendigo had solved the North’s food problem, allowing Northerners to break free from this vicious cycle…

“Let the Imperial bastards deal with their own problems.”

Northerners showed no interest. Breaking the cycle of hardship didn’t heal the emotional wounds that had formed.

Besides, all of Manheimr’s citizens were focused on the king’s marriage. Wasn’t a good king’s wedding a more joyous event than news about an Imperial emperor?

Most people dismissed the rumors from the Empire as just that—rumors.

Except for the nobles near the border and Manheimr’s high officials.

“We can’t confirm the appearance of an army of the dead, but it seems true that the Empire is facing major problems. Refugees are crossing into Manheimr from various regions.”

“Hmm… Something is definitely happening.”

Wendigo responded glumly to Geron’s report.

In a world where giants hurled lightning and talking trees possessed mysterious powers, was the movement of the dead really so extraordinary?

‘Come to think of it, in this world, they should be quite common… yet I’ve never seen one.’

In this mysterious world where even human-made trees could be stolen, summoners were a breed that would take anything with potential.

They had even recently captured Dencan’s ancestor, who was ghost-like, so the existence of the dead—undead—wouldn’t be strange.

But why had Skadi and other summoners never mentioned such beings?

“I hate to bother Skadi with bad news, but there’s no choice. Call for Skadi.”

Shortly after, Skadi arrived, summoned to the audience chamber. Upon seeing Wendigo’s face, she smiled warmly, clearly pleased about something.

“Lord Wendigo.”

“Beautiful as always. I’m truly sorry to bother you when you must be busy with wedding preparations.”

“Not at all. I’m not so immature that I can’t distinguish between public and private matters. Besides, Walton is handling most of the university affairs.”

Recently, Skadi had transferred most of her university duties to Walton.

Walton himself had wanted to focus on teaching students, but he had no choice. When the university voted for the most capable person, Walton was chosen.

Still, living up to his nickname “The Wise,” Walton managed both education and administration, taking responsibility for the university. One never knows a person’s limits until they try.

Having stepped down from her chancellor duties, Skadi had been rushing wedding preparations, meeting with elves, Manheimr officials, and even dwarves.

Not that she wanted to. Typically, weddings create more chaos for those around the couple than for the couple themselves.

“Meeting three races in one day—saying you’re not busy must be a lie.”

“Hehe, now it’s four, not three. Lord Miloshi has sent fox beastkin.”

“Fox beastkin?”

As Wendigo tilted his head in confusion, Geron answered on Skadi’s behalf.

“They’re famous for creating the most beautiful embroidery and ornaments among the beastkin. It’s one reason they’ve survived in the harsh eastern regions.”

Craftsmen were respected everywhere, and fox beastkin were the most aesthetically conscious among all beastkin.

“They’re a meticulous race where everyone, regardless of gender, begins their day by carefully grooming their fur. Given that Lord Miloshi sent them, their craftsmanship is beyond question.”

“Lord Miloshi has done well. When he visits for the wedding, we’ll discuss a suitable reward.”

Skadi nodded and moved to find her place. As if it were the most natural thing, she climbed onto Wendigo’s lap.

“Huh?”

Wendigo made a dumbfounded sound in his surprise. Skadi found his reaction quite cute and covered her mouth as she laughed softly.

“Are you uncomfortable? I can get down if you are.”

“I’m not uncomfortable, so don’t worry. I was just surprised by how much more forward you’ve become.”

“It doesn’t matter anymore, does it?”

A woman in love is beautiful indeed.

Skadi leaned against Wendigo and smiled as warmly as sunlight.

Wendigo carefully embraced her. Though the cold emanating from his body prevented him from feeling it precisely, he sensed her warmth being transmitted to him.

“Ahem, while I’m pleased to see you two getting along so well… Your Majesty, you haven’t yet told Skadi why you summoned her.”

“Ah.”

Wendigo recalled why he had called for Skadi at Geron’s reminder. Being with her made such trivial(?) matters seem insignificant, and he had forgotten.

Still, duties couldn’t be postponed.

“Geron, please explain to Skadi. You can probably provide a more detailed explanation than I can.”

“Understood.”

Geron neatly summarized the information received from various sources for Skadi.

Initially thinking it was just a civil war in the Empire, Skadi showed a bewildered reaction when she heard about the army of the dead.

“An army of the dead… It sounds preposterous, especially since no one has seen it firsthand.”

“Is it really such a remarkable thing?”

“Pardon?”

Skadi looked at Wendigo in confusion at his innocent question. He was essentially asking why something obviously impossible wasn’t impossible.

Bringing the dead back to life—even just hearing about it made it sound difficult.

“There are beings like Dencan’s ancestor who exist as spirits. Resurrection might be difficult, but it doesn’t seem impossible. Moving dead bodies doesn’t seem particularly challenging either.”

“While I believe nothing is truly impossible… in my personal opinion, moving a few corpses might be feasible, but creating an army approaches impossibility.”

Skadi began to methodically point out the flaws in Wendigo’s argument.

First, Dencan’s ancestor existed as a spirit but wasn’t actually dead. Rather than being resurrected after death, his soul had been transferred to his bloodline as a vessel instead of a physical body.

Dencan’s ancestor was a case of transferring a soul to a new vessel rather than resurrection.

“Then what about the souls of the relatives he absorbed?”

“Those who directly participated in the ritual willingly offered their souls… The rest were probably just remnants left after their souls departed.”

Evil gods demand souls as payment for contracts precisely because it’s difficult to force souls to do anything.

One might use their own soul freely, but using another’s soul is nearly impossible.

So how could someone resurrect the dead to form an army? How could they persuade souls one by one and force them into dead bodies?

“Even if you somehow managed to force souls into dead bodies, that would be problematic.”

If a soul entering a body were enough to make it move, why would Wendigo have gone through the trouble of creating mystically infused wooden dolls as avatars and vessels?

“In my personal opinion… forcing a soul into a dead body would probably be like killing it twice.”

Just as a living creature dies without food, every action has its price.

If you force a soul into a corpse without preparation, it might move briefly, but wouldn’t the soul be worn away as the cost?

At least according to Skadi’s experience and knowledge, no other possibility existed.

“The only possibility would be if the emperor gained immense mystical power like you, Lord Wendigo, filling corpses with mystical energy to control them.”

But what use would that be?

Controlling something depends heavily on individual capacity. With bad luck, one might not control any; with exceptional ability, perhaps twenty at most.

An army of twenty corpses… bizarre, certainly, but obviously not very useful.

“So the undead army of the dead emperor is false.”

“Undead… If the dead could be revived as you suggested, Lord Wendigo, that would be a fitting term.”

“Based on Skadi’s explanation, it seems the rumors were distorted. Perhaps an injured emperor gathered a new army and re-entered the civil war.”

“Or as Skadi said, the dead emperor transferred his soul to a new body.”

“Geron is probably right. Though evil, Dencan’s ancestor was indeed a remarkable summoner.”

The conclusion was that it was a false rumor created by terrified refugees, but…

Even if exaggerated, the fact that news from the Empire had reached Manheimr suggested something significant was happening.

Some measures would be necessary, if only to reassure the border nobles and citizens.

“We should have Jacken gather the wolf riders and send them to the border.”

“Hiring idle warriors wouldn’t be a bad idea either. While there’s no shortage of work for warriors as guards or escorts, still…”

“The best-selling commodity from the North has always been warriors, so what can we expect? We should issue an official order for officials to hire warriors and send them to the border.”

Vigorous warriors looking for opportunities were abundant in Manheimr. Few warriors put down their swords even when living conditions improved.

“While we’re at it, we could grant villages to capable warriors to connect different parts of Manheimr.”

With food concerns diminished, the population would grow, so having warriors establish pioneer villages wasn’t a bad idea.

“I’ll discuss this with others and develop a plan. I’ll take my leave now… enjoy your time together.”

“?”

After noting the instructions, Geron left with the attendants like an ebbing tide, leaving Wendigo and Skadi alone in the empty audience chamber.

Well… that was that.

* * *

Unlike before, not many people visited Wendigo’s palace now.

Those seeking judgment met with judges who used artifacts created by Skadi to determine the truth.

Merchants haggled with administrative officials rather than Geron or Wendigo.

And nobles, fearing unnecessary trouble, rarely visited the palace.

So anyone visiting to meet the king was either someone important or…

“…We seem to be meeting again rather soon.”

“Hmm, I tried my best to avoid seeing you too. But you know how some things in life can’t be helped?”

…someone who didn’t need to mind social niceties.

Alfodur cleared his throat awkwardly, avoiding eye contact. The one fortunate thing was that he hadn’t brought Frigg along this time.

“Tea, sir.”

“Ah~ So this is the tea the elves drink these days. In the old days, it was hard to taste because the World Tree controlled the races so tightly. The world has certainly improved.”

The terrified servant offered tea, and Alfodur stirred it vigorously with a spoon while chuckling.

Wendigo watched this carefree behavior with a blank stare as he tilted his teacup.

“So why have you come? You don’t seem to have brought a god with you this time.”

“What else? I’ve come as your close friend to warn you of a threat.”

“……”

Was it rude to feel uncomfortable at being called a close friend, or was it just a natural reaction?

Probably the latter. The way Alfodur smiled, pleased at Wendigo’s speechlessness, was truly irritating.

After removing the spoon he had been stirring with and tapping it against the teacup, Alfodur sipped his tea and asked:

“Have you heard the ominous rumors circulating in the Empire?”

“If you mean about the dead emperor’s corpse army appearing, yes, I’ve heard. Skadi said such a thing would be impossible for a mere human.”

“As expected of an excellent witch, she knows well. Indeed, an ordinary… no, even a great hero couldn’t accomplish such a thing.”

“Obviously.”

Wendigo smirked at Alfodur’s praise and savored his tea.

The milk tea made by Osa, the royal chef, with elven black tea, milk, and fruit jam, was quite nice…

“But you see, it wasn’t the emperor who did it—it was the owner of your head who committed this act. It’s a bigger problem than you might think.”

“PFFFT!?”

The milk tea Wendigo spat out covered Alfodur’s face.