Chapter 27

All Undead trainees stood in formation on the parade ground.

"66th Class. Effective today, you're on leave."

The Head Instructor's voice cut through the morning air.

"The reason we're giving you leave before assignment is simple: those of you who want to disappear, go ahead and disappear. There's no fixed duration for this leave. It's indefinite."

He tapped the ground once with the butt of his wooden staff.

"But if any of you are stupid enough to voluntarily cut your vacation short, be back by next week."

Then his final words: "Good work. Dismissed."

"Thank you, sir!"

For the first time in eight months, the 66th Class walked out the gates of the training grounds.

"Mago," Kinzo started as they cleared the perimeter, "what the hell did you do in the capital? Why did Captain Simena come looking for you...?"

"Human cannonball?"

"Seriously, what did you do...?" Kinzo repeated the same question.

"...I'll get kicked out as soon as I get back, anyway," Amon muttered beside them.

"I don't even know what I did," he said, his voice dropping. "It was clear insubordination. I must have lost my head for a second." He sank into gloom as the memory of the Second Invasion surfaced.

"Because of you, all your classmates survived, Amon. You went from being the unluckiest guy everyone hated to the most beloved—what's there to worry about?"

"I don't need that. Louise... well, maybe Louise would care, but I've lost my chance to join the Special Forces because of this!"

"I wouldn't be so sure."

"Mago, how can you be certain? I'm on their shit list now. My Personal Competency Evaluation Form is probably shredded to pieces..."

"I'll tell you later."

"Fine. Later for everything. Let's just rest for now!"

Bell looped her arms around Amon's neck and mine.

"Let's go! To my place!"

*

We had been invited to the Red Family estate.

Specifically, the second daughter, Elizabeth Red, had promised to return our kindness.

Everyone came except Louise, who politely declined.

Me, Kinzo, Amon, and Oscar.

I'd spent thirteen years living in the Shua Family's mansion.

Not as a member of the family—as a consumable.

Before Kinzo gave me the Symbol of a Freeman.

Before the war.

That mansion had been my well and my cage.

If it had been the Red estate instead of the Shua's, I thought the well I lived in might actually have been worth looking at.

That was how massive this place was.

No wonder they were called one of the Three Great Families of the Empire.

"The instructors must have had a tough time, too," Oscar muttered, staring up at the mansion. "Are you saying they ignored all this and worked Bell just as hard as us?"

Servants swung the front gates open.

It took three of them just to pull the doors apart.

As soon as the gates opened, El came out to greet us.

"It's... good to see you again."

She offered a graceful gesture of welcome.

"Eat your fill here. Rest as much as you want."

**

**

She greeted him with a bright smile.

As they stepped into the mansion, Mago glanced around—then El approached him.

"Mago."

Her voice dropped to a whisper.

"For you... the family has prepared a special gift."

"Thank you."

"Tell me anything. We'll do our best to... to make it happen."

It was an unexpected reward.

But he answered without hesitation.

There were plenty of things he needed.

And one thing he needed right now.

"I need a weapon. Not something I can buy off a shelf. A custom make."

*

Navy-blue uniforms.

Fallen Imperial soldiers.

They rose again, even after drawing their last breath.

Undead.

That's what they were called.

Some soldiers had limbs bent at unnatural angles.

Others had holes punched clean through their bodies.

It didn't matter how they'd died.

Or how much they'd suffered.

None of it meant a thing.

They still came back.

They opened their eyes again as beings that felt no pain.

It was a curse.

In this absurd, brutal world, magic was something you were born with.

And among those blessed—or cursed—with it, there were special beings. Marjelo Arnis, for example.

And the silver-haired woman standing before him.

"What the hell are you?"

"Hm?"

She tilted her head, her silver hair brushing lightly over her shoulder.

She was so dazzling it hurt to look at.

Maybe even blinding.

Strikingly beautiful.

A face that had no place on a battlefield.

"A Necromancer. The only one in the whole world!"

That much was obvious just by looking at her.

"Some people call me the Ghost King."

She was the Demon King Army's new secret weapon.

She pointed a pistol with a rotating chamber—a revolver—at herself.

In her other hand, she gripped a massive greatsword.

"A king? Who gave you that title?"

"All Undead are my subjects. The sovereignty is mine. No one can stop me—so everywhere I step is my territory."

She stretched her lips into a smile.

**

**

"But how couldn't I call you a king?"

Her tone was theatrical, as if she were mimicking a stage actor.

"If you're a king, why are you serving under the Demon King?"

"Me? No, that's not it. Two kings just joined hands. I'm no Demon King Army officer."

"You hate humans enough to join hands with him? Don't be picky about friends—why not invite our Emperor too?"

Silver Hair burst into laughter.

"Sorry. I think that one's off the table."

She pointed her greatsword forward.

At me.

Every last member of the 63rd Company had me in their sights.

Just a few moments ago, we'd been united, trying to kill this silver-haired woman.

Now they were trying to kill me.

It had been my duty to honor them with a makeshift funeral, but they'd gone and risen back up on their own.

There was nothing more I could do.

Then I'd just have to kill them again.

If I killed them twice—

Then I'd have another job to do.

"And if that fails too..."

Then I'd just give up.

What more could I do anyway?

My 66th Class classmates had been wiped out long ago.

Even Captain Simena Extin, the head of the Special Forces' 1st Unit and the Imperial Army's elite, had died.

Marjelo Arnis, humanity's hope, was dead.

The Imperial Knight Commander. The Sea Combat Division.

Thousands of comrades who had passed through my hands—all of them met the same end.

I was sick of it.

Sick to death of the same old defeats and the same old despair.

I'd endured enough to fill the Silver Tomb until there was no space left.

And when I'd half given up, what came down was both a blessing and a curse.

The power to keep fighting—just one drop—

Spread out with a shockwave.

*

"Haah..."

At the Red mansion, I'd lain down in a wide, comfortable bed. Falling asleep had been easy.

But the nightmare came anyway.

"I know I'm being rushed. Damn it, I know."

It would start soon.

About three years from now.

I'd retrieve my weapon. My magic tool.

"This time, I won't let it break."

Then I pictured their ominous faces.

The seven Demon King Army officers.

They weren't all sworn to the Demon King yet, so I'd cut their throats before they could band together.

"The first one I need to take out is that Vampire. That's what this custom weapon is for..."

Then, after the officers, the top of the chain—the Demon King.

And the one who kept appearing even in my dreams.

"That damn Ghost King too. I know."

I lit the lantern by my bedside.

**

**

The light flickered on.

A piece of paper on the desk caught my eye. The blueprint El and I had worked on together. She'd ended up drawing it herself after seeing my sketches—apparently they were traumatic enough to make her roll up her sleeves and take over.

The nightmare had chased away any hope of sleep.

I went to the lake.

Yes, the Red mansion even had an artificial lake.

The most comfortable place I could think of. More comfortable than a bed, even. Somehow, that's what it had become.

"Mago."

I didn't have to turn around to know it was Kinzo.

He sat down beside me.

"Why aren't you sleeping?"

"Just woke up. You?"

"The bed's too soft... My back hurts. Can't sleep."

"Looks like you've shed every trace of nobility. What are you going to do now that you've adapted to the training barracks' cots?"

"Amon and Bell are probably awake too. Doesn't matter if you're a noble or not. We're creatures of adaptation."

His words hung without context for a moment.

"Someday, we'll adapt to peace again."

"I hope so."

"Well, we made it here in the end."

"What's with the tone, Mago? Sounds like you're closing a chapter."

"It's not a closing. It's a beginning."

"I know. Feels like yesterday that my house got torn apart."

Kinzo hadn't forgotten that day.

"I'm grateful to El. Inviting us here—her brother's classmates. I used to be close with my siblings too, just like her and Bell."

He hadn't changed since the day he swore revenge.

He thought of his family every day.

"Yeah... I know."

"Mago, we have to go to Akuella. Kill them all. Drive them out."

"Yeah."

"I never did find the traitor."

"Traitor? Oh, the Orc Model."

"Yeah. Whoever hid that knife inside it. I searched on my own, but nothing."

"Whoever did it wouldn't be careless enough to get caught. And we don't even know if it was a traitor's work or just a mistake by the shop that supplied the model."

"Mago, how could that be a mistake?"

"Fair point."

"I'll keep looking."

"Actually, that..."

"Hm?"

"Actually, I'm embarrassed I couldn't find anything either. No real answers came to me."

"There's barely any clues. It's still too early... Ah, there is one thing wrapping up. Amon and Bell—this is their last chance. Their scores aren't good enough to apply for the Special Forces. We won't see them for a while. The 66th Class is splitting up. Kind of a shame."

**

**

"I already pulled some strings. That's why I said I had to go down to the capital."

"You actually asked the Special Forces to do that...? So what happened? Do those two know?"

"No. Only El knows."

"If you told El, it must have worked out, right? When are you going to tell them?"

*

Breakfast was over. We were still at the table.

"Mago. Say that again."

Amon's face was a mask of disbelief. For a noble, he sure didn't mind talking with his mouth full.

"You and Bell. Captain Simena is using his discretion to place you in the Special Forces."

"Yeah, right... What are you talking about...?"

"Why? You don't want to?"

"I'm saying you're talking nonsense. I'm ranked goddamn fourteenth. Fourteenth."

"That's why the Captain is using his discretion. Ignoring your scores."

"Even so, the Head Instructor will stare daggers at me—"

"Shut up, Amon." Bell shoved his shoulder aside. "Mago, is that deal with Captain Simena solid?"

"Yes. The Captain gave his word. He did say it was ridiculous to put the forty-first-ranked trainee into the Special Forces, but he's keeping his promise."

"Regardless, it's done now...!"

"But Bell, you already achieved your goal. You killed the ringleader, you got your revenge. Do you still want to join the Special Forces?"

"I don't want to just sit around with my feet up."

"Thank you, Mago... Next time, come to my place too—"

Amon's voice was small.

"I just don't want to let talent slip away. Neither does Captain Simena."

"Talent... hah."

He didn't even try to hide his grin.

"Congratulations, everyone. Not sure if increased odds of dying is cause for celebration, but anyway. Everyone's going to the Special Forces except me. Louise said she's going too..."

Oscar cut in mid-sentence.

"Oh, Oscar. You need to apply for the Special Forces too."

"What? No way! I'm joining the Knight Order. That's why I enlisted!"

"You're being transferred to the Special Forces Technical Team. Captain Simena specifically requested you. Think about it."

"No, no. I hate it. Special Forces means the front line!"

"You ran a smithy back in your hometown, right? All by yourself?"

"By yourself?"

All the classmates turned their heads at once, staring at Oscar.

"Once the war ends and you reopen that smithy, you'll make a fortune. Don't you think so, Oscar?"

"N-no. Mago, don't. Don't make useless assumptions. Don't lure me with hopeful talk."

Oscar flapped his hands frantically.

In his past life, Oscar had manufactured muskets and other firearms for the Knight Order.

They needed him desperately.

The Demon King Army would start using revolvers in the eighth year of the war.

If he leveraged his future knowledge, Oscar might be able to create those revolvers now.

He was pulling the Demon King Army's technology forward into the present.

Before they even got to use it.

**