She Professed Herself The Pupil Of The Wiseman (LN) - Volume 11 - Chapter 1

Chapter 1

WAITING IN THE SUBTERRANEAN DEPTHS of the Ancient Underground City was a giant, mechanical abomination, the Machina Guardian. Its body was a full fifty meters long, and its inorganic yet animalistic form constantly whirred with motion—specifically, the rapid movement of its eight metallic legs. It was surprisingly agile for a machine, rampaging whenever any intruder visited its chamber.

Confronting it were countless skeletons and a golem army of all sizes and shapes. They were controlled by one man: Soul Howl, the Great Wall himself.

And now, new forces had joined the battle: Eizenfald—an Imperial Dragon boasting a size equal to the Machina Guardian’s—and the seven Valkyrie Sisters. They weren’t all. Running through the battlefield was the summoner once known as the One-Man Army, now in the form of a little girl…Mira.

Towers and forts lined the battlefield, courtesy of necromancy. At the very top of the largest one, Mira landed lightly behind Soul Howl and approached.

Before she could speak up, Soul Howl gazed at the battlefield and said ominously, “Eizenfald, the seven sisters… Is it just a coincidence that you’re here, Elder?”

He turned to face her with a nihilistic smirk, but his composure instantly shattered into unhinged confusion.

“Huh? Wha—?” Having turned fully around, he let out a confused gasp and gazed at Mira. That was natural, since the girl he saw was entirely unlike the person he’d imagined.

Mira took his confused gaze in stride and waved wryly at him. “Oh, hi. Been a while, Soul Howl.” How she’d ended up this way was a bit of a sore subject for her, so she hoped inwardly that he wouldn’t press the matter too much.

Soul Howl dashed her hopes instantly. “Sure has, Elder. It sure has. Did you use a Vanity Case? Why? Did Lumi inspire you?”

It was well known among Mira’s circle that she’d loved her look as Danblf. Now she was a different person entirely; it would be silly to expect anyone not to wonder why. “Lumi” was, of course, Luminaria—though Soul Howl used to call her “Lumanaria” as a joke. Incidentally, “Elder” was Soul Howl’s nickname for Danblf.

“Well, it’s a long story. Allow me to share it later,” Mira answered firmly, giving Soul Howl no time to speak before changing the subject. Though she said she’d explain the matter, she obviously planned to brush it under the rug as long as possible. “For now, let’s prioritize the battle at hand. You need to press on, don’t you?”

“So it’s not a coincidence that you’re here, after all,” Soul Howl intuited from Mira’s behavior. He looked at her dubiously.

“That’s a long story too,” Mira replied with a small shrug of the shoulders. “So do you think you can win?”

“Yeah, of course.”

Setting the details of Mira’s appearance aside for now, the duo looked upon the battlefield again. With Mira’s forces having joined Soul Howl’s, the battle raged even more intensely.

Eizenfald’s blows bore into the Machina Guardian’s plating, but the enemy would not fall so easily. It used its many legs to the fullest, taking advantage of any opening to attack. It had already halved the durability of Eizenfald’s defensive barrier.

And although Alfina and her sisters fought well, they were plainly struggling against the Machina Guardian’s overwhelming defenses.

The impressive Soul Howl continued adding turrets and golems now and then, even as he spoke with Mira. His forces thus remained in perfect condition, save for the hundreds of skeletons the Machina Guardian had culled to only dozens, leaving them unable to fulfill their role as bait.

Soul Howl quickly assessed the situation and decided, “Time for a temporary retreat. Elder…dismiss your summons and fall back to the entrance.” It seemed he’d decided to stick with his original scheme regardless of whether he had an ally.

“Hm. Very well.”

What was Soul Howl planning? Mira didn’t know, but she knew he wouldn’t do this without reason. She readily agreed, dismissed Eizenfald and the Valkyrie Sisters, and returned to the entrance.

When Mira looked again, the battle had shifted dramatically. Since the bait skeletons and Eizenfald and the Valkyries had disappeared, the Machina Guardian was free to trample the remaining forces. Dozens of turrets collapsed almost instantly, and even the giant golems were helplessly scattered. All that remained was an armored-fortress golem below Soul Howl’s feet.

Having destroyed its nearest targets, the Machina Guardian turned its sights on Soul Howl. Its eight legs skittered across the battlefield.

Soul Howl now faced one of the top raid bosses—fighting it alone would be nothing short of reckless. But Mira watched without concern, because she knew exactly what Soul Howl was planning.

The Machina Guardian’s leg pierced the thick armored-fortress wall with ease. It repeated this once—twice—more, punching multiple holes in the armored-fortress golem. At once, Soul Howl boarded his Bicorn skeleton and jumped away. The fortress suddenly shone red, and lava spewed from it like an eruption.

The power of the necromantic branch of Internment Arts depended on the size of the golem it was based on. A spell cast using an armored-fortress golem—often bigger than a house—created an explosion of heat that rivaled a real eruption.

Lava instantly engulfed the Machina Guardian. Soul Howl, meanwhile, returned to the entrance, where he jumped off his Bicorn without looking back at the immolated boss and began arranging golems at the entrance again. These golems were the most basic of basic necromancy, only a meter tall at best.

“Is that your strategy for interfering with the raid boss’s healing?” Mira asked.

“Exactly,” Soul Howl replied.

Just as Mira expected, he was using the method Danblf had once proposed but never put into practice. It seemed Soul Howl would send one golem toward the Machina Guardian every nine minutes and have it self-destruct. That strategy was only possible because they were “laborer mages”—the common term for those that created or summoned minions.

If a certain amount of time passed during which nothing showed hostility toward the Machina Guardian, it would begin repairing itself. But if anything attacked within that time period, the clock reset.

Since the Machina Guardian’s wait time to self-repair was ten minutes, Soul Howl could impede its recovery by attacking every nine minutes. The golems lined up here were ready for that task. In other words, as long as Soul Howl kept making golems, he could buy time to rest indefinitely. That made it possible to enter a long-term battle against this raid boss.

“I’m making use of your strategy, Elder. It’s going quite well so far,” Soul Howl confirmed, lining up five golems. He glanced at the battlefield and muttered, “Only 20 percent so far.”

“I’m happy to hear that.” When Mira looked to the battlefield, she saw the Machina Guardian—who’d been submerged in lava until moments ago—standing there as if nothing had happened. Its exterior was damaged, however; indeed, the damage Soul Howl had dealt so far was still evident.

“This way. Come with me.” Soul Howl promptly walked away.

“It’s about dinnertime, no?” It was already nighttime. “How about I give you the dessert I’ve been saving?” Mira offered as she followed.

“If it’s that red fruit, I’ll pass,” Soul Howl replied, glaring at her. It seemed he already knew about the nameless fruit.

Mira clicked her tongue in annoyance.

***

Soul Howl took Mira to a large room about half a kilometer from the depths the Machina Guardian protected. When Mira asked why he’d set up camp so far away, he explained that he couldn’t sleep with all the booming. She found that convincing.

His camp was in the second-biggest room on the seventh level. It didn’t spawn monsters and was often used for final strategy meetings. He must’ve been expecting a long battle, since there were cooking utensils and more inside.

“So…Elder. You don’t mind me calling you that, do you?” It seemed Soul Howl also used a Dinoire Trading sleeping bag. Sitting down on it, he grabbed a random drink from his Item Box and gazed at Mira dubiously. “Why are you here?”

“I call myself Mira now. Feel free to use my new name,” she answered, brushing off his gaze as she likewise set out her sleeping bag and sat down on it.

“All that’s changed is your appearance. What’s wrong with ‘Elder’?” Soul Howl seemingly found it much easier to use the same nickname than a new, unfamiliar name.

“Give me a break.” 

He never changes, Mira thought, before telling Soul Howl about the events so far: how the non-aggression pact’s deadline was closing in, how she had visited the Ancient Temple Nebrapolis because it was the easiest part of Soul Howl’s trail to track, and how they’d traced clues they found there to locate him. And, finally, how they knew he was after the Holy Grail of Heavenly Light to save the woman frozen in suspended animation.

After accurately yet concisely explaining everything so far, Mira added cheerfully, “I’m relieved that I found you here.”

“I see… You came here knowing all that, huh? Good work.” He shrugged in exasperation and smirked. It seemed Soul Howl had basically acted for the reasons they’d expected. “You’ll help me, then?”

Mira read between the lines: once his current task was done, he’d come home. At the same time, Soul Howl was making an implicit demand—in return, he would need her help.

“Well, I suppose,” she replied. If she wanted to resolve this situation quickly, she’d need to help him defeat the Machina Guardian as soon as possible. She laughed dryly at how similar this was to finding Kagura. However, she’d expected this and, in the end, accepted Soul Howl’s demand. “Now, before we destroy the Machina Guardian, there’s something I must ask. May I?”

It was clear what she would need to do: defeat the Machina Guardian and obtain the item necessary to create a Holy Grail. Avoiding combat was not an option, so only one question was left on Mira’s mind.

“What? If it’s about the loot, it’s all yours, Elder.”

“Ooh, you mean it?! How generous! But, er…no, that wasn’t it. I wanted to ask why you didn’t use advanced spells in the battle earlier.” They were about to fight one of the strongest enemies out there, and there was surely no leeway to hold back or let their guards down, so Mira just had to ask why.

“Ah, that? I’m under a restriction right now. I can’t use those,” Soul Howl replied coolly and smiled, as if to say it was no big deal.

“A restriction? What in the world? Why?” Mira pressed him for details. She had never heard of a restriction that would prevent a mage from using advanced spells.

“Well… You saw that girl, right?” Soul Howl asked vaguely. He then explained that the girl in suspended animation, back in the castle he’d once stayed at, had caused the restriction magic.

She had the mark of the Curse of the Underworld, also known as the Demon’s Blessing, on her back. Soul Howl had used magic to stop time for her, temporarily severing her from the laws of nature to keep the curse from progressing. That had caused the state Mira found the girl in so long ago.

The spell that made that possible, Otherworldly Stasis, was a Forbidden Art that forcibly warped reality. Its raw power came at a cost: while it was active, Soul Howl couldn’t use advanced spells.

“Goodness… You mean to tell me you’ve been like this ever since you began constructing a Holy Grail?”

The Nine Wise Men had the power to get by just fine with weaker magic, of course. But based on the documents Mira had read, Soul Howl must have fought off many powerful foes so far in the process of making a Holy Grail. That wouldn’t have been impossible, given his strength; still, he must have pulled ridiculous stunts to get this far without advanced magic. Even she found it extraordinary that he’d put in the effort to do so.

“It’s nothing.” He shrugged. “Don’t you love challenge runs, Elder? This is the same thing, just…longer.”

Successful challenge runs were all the more satisfying thanks to the restrictions one willingly placed on oneself. But what Soul Howl was doing was far, far more difficult. Still, he acted as if it wasn’t a problem at all. His resolve to accomplish his goal, no matter the difficulty, shone through.

Sensing Soul Howl’s determination, Mira was both confounded and thrilled at the change in her friend. Finally, he was a normal human being. “I see… That girl really is important to you. You’ve changed; you’d never have fallen for a living, breathing woman before. The passage of time is a truly strange thing.” Or so she thought. 

Soul Howl frowned in disgust at Mira’s words. “No, no, no. Don’t be stupid. Who’d love a woman like that? She’s an annoying religious nutcase.” 

“Hrmm…? What are you talking about? Is she not the woman you love? I thought your love spurred you to work this hard…?”

The Demon’s Blessing guaranteed its victim’s doom. All this time, Mira and Solomon had thought Soul Howl a brave man embarking on a great travail to save his beloved from that awful fate. He’d sounded like the hero of a fairy tale to Mira, and though Solomon wasn’t present, he would no doubt have agreed.

“Her? Unthinkable. Of all the women alive, she’d be the worst for me.” Surprisingly, Soul Howl didn’t seem to be denying it out of embarrassment. His disdain was genuine.

When Mira pressed for more, he revealed other details about the frozen woman. According to him, she belonged to a religious denomination that believed the female corpses he’d collected should be properly buried. That denomination’s influence had begun to expand ten years ago, and he’d unfortunately run into the girl while he collected more corpses.

She’d managed to sniff out his castle and constantly came to him, preaching that he should return the women to God’s side. She’d even tried to cremate them herself eventually. Soul Howl added with an arch chuckle that the woman was too much of a handful for him.

“She sounds like quite a passionate believer,” Mira mused. Soul Howl’s castle was at the very bottom of a C-rank dungeon. If she went all the way down there to evangelize to him, she must’ve been devout.

“Oh, please. She’s just a thief feigning belief.”

Since there were monsters and the like in this world, leaving the city meant risking danger. The laws regarding the treatment of corpses resulting from said danger were lax. There was no legal difference between burying them, stripping them of their gear, or making use of them via necromancy, so Soul Howl was allowed to do as he pleased.

His moral views on this differed from those of Mira and other former players. Given the state of this world, however, there was little that could be done. The bottom line was that there were too many corpses to keep track of. In the midst of that, the denomination the woman belonged to arose.

By cremating a corpse and sending its belongings to relatives, one could at least give closure to those left behind. Even if you died in a deep, remote place, you might still be found someday and delivered home. That hope was her denomination’s core dogma. It wasn’t for the sake of the dead but for the living left behind.

That denomination’s beliefs matched up rather closely with most former players’ morals, so Mira didn’t feel disgusted at the woman, as Soul Howl did. She was simply impressed by the woman’s devoutness. To Soul Howl, though, the woman was little more than a thief trying to snatch away treasure he’d collected over many long years.

“It’s rare for you to hate someone so,” Mira said. “You’ve always been very indifferent toward people you dislike.”

“Not my fault she’s insane. No matter how far I run, she finds me again, and always with a smile.” Apparently remembering her face, Soul Howl grimaced bitterly. “Just terrifying,” he said, resigned.

“If she bothers you that much, she must really be something.” Smirking at Soul Howl’s atypical care for a living, breathing woman, Mira went a step further. “And you’re going to such lengths to help her. You’ve changed.”

It didn’t sound like Soul Howl stood to gain anything by helping her, but he must’ve had some justifications. One was no doubt that he couldn’t bear leaving her like that. That was the first thing that came to Mira’s mind, after all.

It was natural to want to save someone you’d gotten to know, no matter how you met or how at odds your morals were. Your resolve might waver if they were a genuinely bad person, but this woman was good-hearted. It wasn’t hard to understand why you’d want to help someone, even if they were a pain.

Still, Mira knew Soul Howl well, and she was aware that his morals were gray in that regard. He was essentially indifferent to death; whether someone lived was up to them, not him. He wouldn’t go out of his way to interfere with the natural process.

Yet Soul Howl had set out on a long, arduous journey to save someone he claimed to hate. Mira found it rather odd, but she knew time had a way of changing people.

“I haven’t changed,” Soul Howl finally replied with a bitter grin, and quietly added, “She was just crying, is all.”

The woman had come and complained about his necromancy as usual, but she’d lost her usual vigor. She was falling to the Demon’s Blessing. Each day, she became more and more feeble, until she finally showed vulnerability to Soul Howl.

“She cried and said she was scared to die,” he explained. “I want to say to her, ‘Look what saved you—the necromancy you hate so much! Serves you right!’” With that, Soul Howl guffawed, insisting that he hadn’t just been moved by her tears.

Then he corrected himself—if all went well, the Holy Grail would technically save the woman. Still, necromancy would play an indispensable role. The magic keeping her alive was necromancy, too, so he insisted it would be no exaggeration to say necromancy saved her.

This had all begun to sound like excuses to Mira. “Ah, of course. Right as always.” She was certain now that Soul Howl had been moved by the woman’s tears.

Life and death alone didn’t move him, but if someone begged him for help, he was the kind of guy who’d do everything in his power to save them—even if he complained about it along the way. The woman had cried because she was afraid to die, and that alone had been enough to make Soul Howl act.

He hasn’t changed at all, Mira laughed mentally.