Chapter 96

Chapter 96

Investing Through the Status Window.

Episode 96: The Spirit Realm (1).

The seemingly eternal damned night of the mercenary city finally began to recede.

It was dawn, when the pitch-black darkness just started to mix faintly with shades of gray.

The Allen-Mercenary Group stepped out of the building, breathing in the cool dawn air mixed with all sorts of sins from the night. Their luggage, usually bulging like a grumpy chin, was considerably deflated… This time, it wasn’t for a mission, but simply a brief visit to the city.

The group of nine was no longer a mere ragtag band of mercenaries. Now, the Allen-Mercenary Group had risen to a status in Vermandois where, upon mentioning their name, people would recognize them with an ‘ah’. Of course, the Viola-Mercenary Group of the Top 10 had contributed significantly to this, but in any case, making a name for oneself was what mattered…

Allen’s group leisurely walked down the road bustling with people hurriedly preparing for a dawn departure. They arrived at the carriage station just as the sky over the horizon began to blush with dawn.

There, groups of merchants and mercenaries were swarming busily in preparation for departure. Allen glanced around and headed towards a boy holding a sign that read “Orphenil Merchants.” A plump middle-aged merchant, with a dull and dry beard stretching down to his chin, greeted Allen with a warm handshake.

“You’ve arrived. Please, get on. We’ll be departing shortly.”

The Allen-Mercenary Group all climbed aboard a large carriage pulled by four horses. The caravan, preparing to head south after selling off everything they brought to Vermandois, was almost completely empty. There wasn’t exactly a specialty product in the mercenary city, and the cost of goods was so high that buying anything to take back would only result in a loss…

Of course, the absence of goods didn’t mean they were safe from bandit attacks. In fact, bandits preferred cash over having to dispose of goods. Especially a caravan like this, returning after selling their wares, was a prime target for bandit groups. So, they probably had to be a bit more careful than usual.

With nothing else in particular to prepare, the caravan set off as soon as the Allen-Mercenary Group boarded the carriage.

The carriage, making the sound of horse hooves, moved away from the wall-less mercenary city, becoming more distant. The newly joined youngest member, Kori, looked endlessly at the departing Vermandois with a heart full of anticipation.

Although it had already been explained, Allen recited the plan once more to the members for the last time.

“Though you all might already know, we are heading to Malziel to initiate a trade. It’s said that there’s a nice lake nearby, so take a look when you can.”

“Then, is there no separate bonus?”

“If there’s nothing to do, why would there be, you brat?”

Furball Geese asked with a greedy face, and Money-Grubber Allen snapped back at him. Then, everyone laughed softly.

“Still, this route has far more bandits than others, so don’t let your guard down on the way.”

In the southern cities near the central region, where grains were abundantly produced, naturally, there were far more bandits compared to other places. It was like how flies swarm where there’s plenty to eat.

Especially notorious was the continent’s worst bandit group, the Martolo Gang, known for frequently making their appearance. Hence, complacency was not an option.

At that moment, the furball laughed loudly with a “keuheuheu” and thumped the back of the youngest newbie, Kori, who was sitting next to him.

“There’s such a thing as beginner’s luck, so there shouldn’t be any problems. This guy seems to have luck on his side!”

“Hehe, well, I guess I am a bit lucky.”

Allen felt a bit of a chill at that.

…Somehow, it felt like he heard something he shouldn’t have.

A gloomy basement.

Someone lay atop it, as if asleep, over all sorts of bizarre symbols drawn there.

It was the corpse of the youngest son, whom Baron Turus, the lord of the small town of Ampeur, dearly loved. It seemed he had been dead for quite some time, as decay was significantly advanced in various parts…

An elderly mage, with a full head of white hair, meticulously checked one last time to ensure no items were missing. All the offerings were perfectly prepared without exception. The old mage, who habitually stroked his long beard, informed the Baron that everything was ready.

“Everything is prepared, Your Excellency.”

The middle-aged Baron nodded with a determined expression.

“…Begin.”

What they were about to do was open the gates to the Spirit Realm. And thus, they intended to resurrect the Baron’s dead son. Realistically, it could be dismissed as nonsense, but the story of this brilliant old mage from the Western Magic Tower was different.

-If it were possible to open the gates of the Spirit Realm and bring back your son’s soul, reviving him wouldn’t be entirely impossible.

When the Baron heard that such experiments had been attempted several times at the Magic Tower, and had even succeeded a few times, he could no longer contain himself. A father who had lost a child he loved more than his own life was ready to do anything, regardless of the cost, to bring his child back to life.

Thus, the old mage agreed to open the gates of the Spirit Realm and revive the Baron’s deceased son in exchange for a promise of generous support and a tremendous reward in the future.

They committed all sorts of horrific acts and prepared numerous sacrifices. Since the magic to open the gates to the Spirit Realm was derived from demonic dark magic, the sacrifices themselves were already vile and wicked. They needed large amounts of various animal hearts and blood, as well as human skulls, hearts, and even blood.

The mage first sprinkled the prepared blood over the corpse and the ground. It was like a medium to easily connect with the Spirit Realm.

And then, the mage began to chant the spell in earnest.

——————————.

The mage, chanting a sticky and vile spell, circled around the edge of the magic circle, stabbing the hearts laid on the ground with a long staff. Each time, the blood splattered.

The spell was very long… And at some point, the space started to feel strange.

Ah…!

The Baron, who had been staring at the magic circle as if his eyes would pop out, felt the area around his son’s corpse begin to ripple. A phenomenon hard to believe even when seen with one’s own eyes. However, at the same time, an uncontrollable hope surged within the Baron’s heart.

Just as the mage had said, it seemed as if the gate to the Spirit Realm was about to open.

My son, my beloved son. Please, I beg you, return to your father’s arms…!

The Baron, witnessing the wicked magic, prayed and prayed to the holy god.

…Then, slowly, from the ground, strange black hand-shaped objects began to rise. Shaking like a mirage, they appeared one by one, until suddenly there were enough to densely fill the magic circle.

They gathered in the center as if they were opening a door, then slowly split to the left and right.

The voice of the mage chanting the spell grew a bit louder. At the same time, he circled the circle faster, stamping the ground more forcefully with his staff.

…Truly, the gate to the Spirit Realm was slowly opening. Countless black hands pushed the gate open, and through the gap, wispy smoke began to seep out. Eventually, it filled the entire basement.

——!!

…And after a long wait, the gate to the Spirit Realm finally swung wide open.

Ohhh.

The mage shouted in ecstasy.

“Spirit Realm god, please return this soul back to us!”

The old mage shouted so. As he did, the corpse sank into the pitch-dark gate of the Spirit Realm, like sinking into a swamp.

“Spirit Realm god!”

The Baron, with eyes bloodshot, also shouted as loudly, looking at the gate to the Spirit Realm where his son was taken, following the mage.

…However, no matter how long they waited, the son’s body did not resurface. The Baron shouted at the mage, asking why he wasn’t coming out.

“No, that, why this…?!”

The mage appeared flustered. But it wasn’t because the Baron’s son’s body wasn’t coming back up.

…If the gate to the Spirit Realm was left open too long, it could lead to a major accident, so he tried to close it, but it wouldn’t budge.

The old man kept tapping the ground with his staff and chanting spells, hoping it would close, but like the maw of a monster, it remained wide open without any sign of closing.

“Mage! What on earth is this?! Where is my son? Where is my son?!”

“Would you shut up for a moment?! That’s not the issue right now!”

“What?! Give me back my son! Bring my son back to life!”

The Baron climbed atop the wide-open gate of the Spirit Realm, knelt down, and pounded on it with his fists as if he were mad.

“My son, my son, oh god of the Spirit Realm, my son, return my son to me. My son!!”

Then, a black hand rose smoothly from the gate of the Spirit Realm, wrapped around the Baron’s body, and swallowed him inside.

Only then, convinced that something major had gone wrong, the mage felt fear and, abandoning his staff, dashed towards the basement door, but… the door that should have been there was nowhere to be seen.

Ah…!

The basement, shrouded in fog, was no longer reality. This place, too, had already become part of the Spirit Realm.

“No, save me, save me! I don’t want to diieee!!!!”

However, the mage’s cries of despair were merely echoing through the fog.

…And, over the small town of Amper.

A thick fog had settled heavily.