“Huh? Can’t you all hear it? It’s clearly audible. I’m so frustrated! I curse the king who cut off my arm and killed me! I’m screaming for him to return all my swords! How can you not hear this?”

“Stop joking around, Yulia. I’m scared...”

“Uh...?”

Only then did Yulia’s expression gradually harden as she seemed to grasp the situation. She could hear a sound that no one else could. But instead of the beautiful songs of spirits, it was the deep wails of a ghost filled with resentment...?

Something serious was happening.

“No, look out the window! You can see it outside! Can’t you see that old dwarf man with the white beard? Ah? He doesn’t have hands!”

“What do you mean, Yulia? There’s no one on the street...”

The street Yulia pointed to was empty. There was no sign of a white-bearded dwarf man, not even a hint of one. Realizing that she was the only one who could both hear and see it, Yulia’s complexion turned pale.

“Am I hallucinating from lack of sleep!?”

“I’ve been sleeping well these days. Thanks to Aslan...”

“Hmm? What does you and the uncle sleeping well have to do with this?”

“Ah! Just drop it! It’s not important! But am I really hallucinating? That’s gotta be it, right?”

Hallucinations.

Honestly, I would prefer that. I didn’t want to believe that Yulia had awakened as a necromancer instead of a spirit mage.

‘Is it my fault?’

If Yulia had really awakened as a necromancer, could I have had no influence on that?

Of course not. There’s no way it didn’t have an effect. A character who should have awakened as a spirit mage ended up being tainted by evil and turned into a necromancer because of my advice. Was that what was happening...?

Suddenly, a throbbing pain began in my head.

For now, confirming the facts was the priority.

“Yulia. Recite every word that old man is saying without leaving any out.”

“I curse the dwarf king who cut off my arm and killed my son. Return all my holy swords. And... complete the final holy sword, Jacob! He keeps repeating these words...”

“Ha...”

“Why? Do you understand? ...Do you?”

I do. How could I not? I had possessed a character and spent days looking into this without rest. That was newspaper clippings. Thanks to that, I was familiar with all the significant events of the past 100 years.

Since I had only cleared the first chapter of the game, the lack of information necessitated gathering details in this way.

And the old man Yulia described was definitely among those events.

“The legendary blacksmith Zain. He is known for founding the forging method using mana. He is also famous for creating six holy swords. However, when he refused to sell them to the dwarf royal family, the dwarf king cut off his hands, preventing him from completing the seventh holy sword.”

“Whaaat!? He was a real person? How did he die...?”

“Zain fled to the empire, attempting to pass on his skills to his son, but he was discovered by an assassin and killed along with his son. Along with them, the six holy swords were also stolen and have spread throughout the world.”

“Seriously!? There’s a real ghost! Why can only I see this!?”

“Have you successfully managed your mana recently? Speak honestly.”

“Yesterday... I tried separating the mana like you advised. Thanks to that, I managed to reach the last stage, but I failed. Nothing happened...”

“That was probably the moment you awakened as a necromancer. Both necromancers and spirit mages usually have their first spell be a naturally awakening spell.”

“N-Necromancer!?”

Yulia jumped in shock. Her reaction was almost like a teenage girl hearing that her laundry had been mixed with her dad's.

“I don’t want to be a necromancer!”

“If you can communicate with the dead, what else could it be?”

“W-Well, I might not be able to talk to them.”

“Why not try talking to one?”

“Hmph? I don’t think I can! It’s impossible! There’s no way I could be a necromancer... Ah! I made eye contact! I made eye contact! It looked at me! Uwaaaaah!!!”

Before long, Yulia wailed and rushed into my arms.

She sobbed uncontrollably, burying her face in my chest, her tears and snot streaming down. Wrapped around me like a koala, I found myself completely immobilized.

‘This is quite the predicament.’

A necromancer who is afraid of ghosts. I had never anticipated such a scenario.

No, it’s true. The very fact that Yulia had become a necromancer was an unexpected incident.

She was destined to be close to cute, pretty, and charming spirits. Yet here she was, witnessing the wailing spirit of a dwarf man who had lost his arms. It was no wonder she was terrified.

‘If it’s a spirit unable to ascend, isn’t it just a malicious ghost? Then maybe my misfortune can work on it.’

Since this happened because of me, I should take responsibility for it.

It can’t be helped.

For now, since Yulia is so scared, I have no choice but to exorcise the spirit.

“Why is it me? Why does it have to be me! Huhuuuh!”

“If you’re scared, I’ll just exorcise it.”

“No, don’t!”

“...?”

As I tried to take charge, Yulia grabbed my wrist, stopping me. What on earth does she want?

“Exorcising it is too cruel... It’s already pitiful enough...”

“So what do you suggest we do?”

“If it’s something that needs to be done... I guess it would be that?”

With a hint of courage, Yulia’s gaze hardened. If it’s something a necromancer has to do, then it was certainly defined.

Controlling the spirit to use it as a servant. Transforming the spirit into mana for storage. Using the spirits that remain in this world without being able to release their grudges is precisely what a necromancer does.

“I need to release its lingering feelings and allow it to ascend...”

“...What?”

No, what is she talking about?

It seems Yulia doesn’t really understand what being a necromancer entails.

In a dark shop, empty liquor bottles rolled around, and the smell of alcohol permeated the air. A young dwarf was slumped over the table, unable to gather himself.

As he fumbled around, his hand reached for a liquor bottle.

“Hey! Get out here, owner!”

“This forge is not open! It closed down 30 years ago!”

“Stand up straight. I am Jacob, grandson of the legendary blacksmith Zain.”

“...!”

In that instant, Jacob’s eyes widened. The effects of the alcohol vanished in an instant, and his back straightened.

That chilling voice—one I could never forget—was the voice of the reckless Aslan.

“What is it this time? Didn’t you confirm last time that I have no talent or abilities? I can’t make holy swords like my grandfather!”

As old memories resurfaced, Jacob trembled. Once, the count had forced him into labor to create a holy sword. The problem was that Jacob was just a one-year-old baby when Zain was murdered.

He grew up without knowing anything about blacksmithing, having never received any training or knowledge passed down. Even when he claimed he didn’t know anything, the count didn’t believe him and assumed he was hiding it. After a great deal of suffering, he was finally released, but that experience left him with lingering PTSD.

Hadn’t that all ended back then? Why was it coming back now? Why was a worthless dwarf like me, who squandered my grandfather’s legacy drinking away, being harassed again?

“It’s a misconception. You, who carry the blood of the legendary Zain, surely possess the same abilities.”

“Didn’t we confirm that long ago? My mana purity is too low to even mimic mana power.”

“That’s just your opinion. Your grandfather said it was possible.”

“...What?”

Aslan gestured, and Sylvia stepped forward, stabbing the wooden floor with her sword.

While Jacob stared in shock, Sylvia pried up the floorboards and pulled out a box from underneath.

Inside the box was a longsword with a broken hilt. It was just an ordinary longsword. There was no special energy or aura indicating it was a holy sword.

“This is an incomplete holy sword. Finish it.”

“H-How did you know something like this was hidden under our shop floor?”

“Do I need to know that?”

“No, I suppose I don’t really need to know.”

In the chilly atmosphere, Jacob turned serious. He understood that he shouldn’t pry too much into noble affairs. His father and grandfather had died for crossing the dwarf royal family...

From a young age, Jacob had learned to live with his face pressed to the ground, like a frightened mouse.

“But even if you say that, I can’t just complete a holy sword like this. I don’t know how to do it...”

“There is a way. If you use mana cultivation techniques to increase the purity of your mana, you’ll be fine. Then, as one who carries the blood of the legendary Zain, you’ll be able to use mana power without any difficulty. I’ll teach you the mana cultivation techniques, so hurry and start.”

“B-But...”

“Stop hesitating! Because of your grandfather, my slave is trembling in fear!”

Roaring!

The murderous intent emanating from Aslan froze Jacob in place.

No... I don’t understand at all what he’s talking about!