Chapter 83

Chapter 83

“Hey, Vivian agreed to let us go.

How about clearing the path for us?”

Fortunately, Vivian wasn’t around.

She must have decided it was fine as long as she didn’t get directly involved.

Was this her way of keeping her word, even in such a half-hearted manner? Or was this whole situation something done against her will?

Whatever it was, as expected, we were betrayed.

The men gritted their teeth, their faces full of rage, as they pointed their crude weapons at us.

“It was Vivian’s idea to let those monsters, who are no better than demons and have killed countless people, go free. Not ours.”

“Lapdogs barking when she commands and dying when she orders—a fitting role for you.”

“Says the whore of a dark sorcerer.”

This wasn’t a situation where we could exchange pleasantries.

I stepped back slightly and spoke quietly enough for only Evan to hear.

“We’re going to run. Even if we fight, the first priority is to escape. Got it?”

Evan nodded.

Together, we raised dozens of skeletons from the ground and ordered them to scatter decaying flesh all around.

In an instant, the nauseating stench filled the air, creating a gruesome scene resembling a massacre.

Ivan scratched his nose with his front paw, clearly bothered by the foul smell.

I conjured a small breeze to block his nose, and he growled contentedly, seeming pleased with the makeshift solution.

Just as I thought the tension had eased slightly, the flash of a blade approaching me brought my body to a standstill.

A towering beast—easily 190 centimeters tall—was charging at me with a sword in hand.

The black brute in the lead cleaved through several skeletons as he barreled toward me, aiming for my neck.

Two skilled knights, one mage, and one versatile fighter who could wield both magic and a sword.

Four opponents. Escaping would be tricky, but not impossible.

“Evan, I can only distract that brute. The rest are up to you.

When you get a chance, crush this with your fingers.”

I handed Evan a gemstone, the kind he’d once told me to break if I needed his help.

Evan stared at it for a moment before nodding and moving away to engage the other three.

Thankfully, I didn’t have to face them.

If I had, I’d likely have been sliced in half by now, thanks to their magic and flailing blades.

“No matter how far I’ve fallen—from a noble to a wretched dark sorcerer—I won’t lose to a mere beast.”

The brute roared like a savage as he cut down five skeletons in a single swing and raised his sword high above his head, charging at me.

I drew my pistol, aimed at him, and pulled the trigger repeatedly.

The bullets hit, but they only grazed the surface, leaving small, insignificant wounds.

That’s fine.

The distance was my advantage.

If he closed in, I could back away. If he retreated, I could move closer.

He roared like a lion, sprinting toward me with all his might, but it was futile.

The field was littered with decaying corpses, the air reeked of dirty water from the sewers, and bone dust—ground so fine it could be called powder—floated about, laced with curses. All of this worked against him.

“I can’t kill you; I don’t have the power.

But you can’t kill me either; you don’t have the ability.”

From the swamp of corpses, a hand suddenly emerged, grabbing the brute and pulling him down.

I hadn’t expected that.

Could it be that those who died without receiving a priest’s blessings all shared a grudge against the living?

“So, why don’t we call it quits here?

We’ve already seen far more of each other than we ever wanted to.

Unless, of course, you’d rather hold your breath to avoid inhaling the bone dust, wade through this mire, and try to slice my neck—only for me to keep running, forcing us to repeat this nonsense forever?”

I glanced toward Evan. His situation didn’t look much different from mine.

The number of skeletons was practically infinite in a space like this.

I remembered hearing slave traders say that they’d never seen a civilized black tribe, nor individuals with exceptional reasoning or behavior.

Maybe that’s why these brutes couldn’t grasp the concepts of compromise or agreements necessary for society.

The only reason we’re even able to communicate is probably due to some mixed blood.

I was starting to want to run.

I didn’t want to stay in this unpleasant place any longer.

“I’ve seen plenty like you.

Filthy, despicable, cowardly humans. The kind who don’t even blink when an acquaintance dies, so long as they’re not close.

That’s why you don’t hesitate to commit such cruel acts.

Let the dead rest in peace.”

“Sure, you’re too weak to charge at me or replenish your stamina.

This conversation is amusing, though. If you come at me, I’ll just run again. Ha-ha.”

But this brute seemed to view humans as a broad category, as if he didn’t consider himself one.

“Would I become your hero if I told you this story?

The skeletons in armor with swords are knights who hanged peasants for resisting when they came to take their grain. They called them rebels.

The ones with spears and leather armor are deserters who ate human flesh for fun.

As for the unarmed skeletons, well, there are too many stories to count.”

I didn’t feel like explaining any further, nor did I want to justify myself to that brute.

Yes, he lacked the power to impose his morality on me.

If it had been Vivian here instead, I wouldn’t be the tragic victim but the vile and wretched murderer—or maybe just the limping witch.

Even now, I wonder, what is she trying to achieve by hunting down someone who just wants to live quietly in a corner?

“…”

“Look at you, too dumb to even respond properly.”

I wondered if he truly wanted to be in that state.

Sinking into the mire, his legs stuck with every step, flesh sticking to the muck, and the stench of decay rising thickly around him.

“You’ve probably left all the dirty work to your underlings, haven’t you? Just like these fools.”

At the same time, skeletons clad in polished armor, clinking as they moved, advanced toward the brute.

His face showed a flicker of unease before he stopped trying to talk to me altogether and went back to smashing skeletons with a fervor.

It’s frustrating.

I’d rather be in a place with fresh air and a nice view, smoking a cigarette and sipping coffee.

Evan must have been feeling the same, as he scooped a handful of water from the sewer—murky enough to be mistaken for blood or filth—and used heat to cause it to burst explosively.

The nauseating smell of blood and filth thickened in the already foul air, and a faint mist began to form.

I, like a shameless fool resurrected after three days, stepped into the water and began walking.

Ivan, afraid of the water, refused to step in despite my attempts to coax him with magic, so I carried him.

Useless mutt.

Soon, Evan came over to me.

We clasped hands and began walking forward, almost as if we were waltzing.

“I’ve been checking the surroundings for a while, and Vivian’s not here. It seems she only sent these men to stop us.”

“That’ll make escaping much easier, right?”

“Exactly.”

“So, what’s the plan?”

In response, Evan silently began forming something round in his right hand, speaking as he worked.

“If Vivian were here, she wouldn’t have given me the time to make something like this. She’d just bombard us with spells.”

Evan continued crafting until the sphere was about the size of a child’s head. Then, tying it off like a balloon, he flung it into the air.

It soared slowly before detonating with a loud explosion, scattering what looked like bloody remains—rotted beyond recognition—in every direction.

I glared at Evan, pinching my nose between my thumb and forefinger as if to say, A little warning would’ve been nice.

Evan chuckled sheepishly and offered an excuse.

“It’s not clean, but it’s efficient.”

Since I couldn’t see much through the lingering mist either, I held Ivan tightly in my arms, grabbed the hem of Evan’s coat, and followed closely behind him.

Once we emerged from the sewer, I poured some water over myself and then mounted Ivan.

“So, where should we go now?” Evan asked.

I didn’t have a specific place in mind, so I gave a vague answer.

Hmm, maybe the cabin where I’d waited for Evan for a year would work.

But it felt too small to live in with more than one person.

Even on my own, it sometimes felt stifling.

“Somewhere with clean air and clear water would be enough for me.”

“What are you, an old man?”

“You’re the old man, Evan. You’ve lived far longer than me.”

“That’s true.”

We fell silent for a long while.

Was it a sense of emptiness or futility?

Or perhaps an overwhelming feeling of relief from finally gaining freedom?

“Was I really worth this much?”

“Yes.”

Evan answered as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“Well, thanks. Let’s get moving.”

Maybe this self-loathing was the result of having used the suffering of so many others just to save myself. Now that everything was over, it was finally rising to the surface.

The bitter taste lingered in my mouth.

I didn’t regret it.

I wasn’t someone who could afford to.

My thoughts grew scattered.

Thinking back, there were still fools trailing us, pursuing relentlessly.

“For now, let’s head somewhere without people.”

Somewhere where no one could point fingers at me.

I swallowed the rest of the words, as always, lit a cigarette, and exhaled the unspoken thoughts into the smoke.