She Professed Herself The Pupil Of The Wiseman (LN) - Volume 11 - Chapter 25

Chapter 25

THE MAKESHIFT GRAVESITE behind the cultivation room was full of so-called unworthy gods’ corpses.

Mira looked sidelong at Soul Howl, who opened coffin after coffin to appraise the contents. She frowned at those contents. “All these are their unworthy gods… What awful sins the researchers here committed.”

Inside the coffins were capsules of various sizes. They were transparent, giving a view of what lay within. The beings in the smaller coffins hadn’t taken shape yet, but the bigger coffins—about the size of human babies—contained abominations too painful to look upon. The beings in the large coffins also had large silver collars fitted around their necks.

All those capsule-bound beings had been created through experiments and died, failing to become gods.

While Mira looked on, horrified by just how many corpses there were, the Spirit King’s voice echoed in her mind. “Miss Mira, would you please touch that vessel for me?” He seemed to want to inspect something through the blessing.

“Very well,” Mira replied. When her right hand touched the biggest capsule, the mark of the Spirit King’s blessing appeared on her body and glowed.

Curious about what Mira was doing, Soul Howl stopped rummaging around. “Hm? What’s up?”

At the same time, the glow brightened until, after a while, it faded.

“I’m certain this was the cause of all that happened,” the Spirit King declared, then offered his analysis of the situation. The corpses here contained lingering regrets due to their inability to become gods. With so many gathered in one place, they’d melded into a single will that remained in this location. “The wooden statue provides them some comfort. Still, the arrival of a godly being—Fenrir—awakened both jealousy and longing in them. That longing was overwhelming.”

Thus, the failed gods’ single spirit had caused Fenrir’s corruption.

“I see…” As they’d expected, the research into artificial gods was affecting Fenrir. Understanding that, Mira realized that numerous lingering regrets blending into one greater will was something she’d encountered quite recently. “It reminds me of that Oni Princess. Is this also something we can dispel with the holy sword and your powers combined?”

The Oni Princess was a collective of the hatred harbored by onikind, and a key figure in the creation of Chimera Clausen. Remembering that, Mira asked if they could cleanse this spirit in a similar way. The Spirit King’s answer didn’t come quickly. After a while, he finally replied, “This one… I believe so. However, it will differ from the last. It requires not purification but something closer to calming the soul.”

The different emotions swirling within this entity gave rise to that difference. It wasn’t feeling hatred but a mixture of simple admiration, envy, regret, and despair.

“Hrmm, I see… That does make sense.”

The unworthy gods had probably perished in this facility long before any hatred could possibly arise. Their single will had sprouted from beings who’d only been able to cling to life and knew nothing of hatred. Nonetheless, their purity and immaturity had disrupted Fenrir’s godly powers and sent him on a rampage, according to the Spirit King.

“By the way, I’ve been thinking. Was the thing I saw back there similar to the angel that possessed the Oni Princess?” Could the abomination Mira had spotted actually have been something possessed by this hive mind?

Although she wondered that, the Spirit King refuted her train of thought. “No. I sensed no such emotions through your hands.” After confirming outright that the hive mind wouldn’t have tried to possess something, he added, “All that I felt was a longing for Fenrir.”

Perhaps Fenrir’s power had made him something akin to a parental figure to the failed gods.

“A parent… That’s sad indeed,” Mira murmured, gazing at the capsules.

A certain someone poked his head from behind her again. “So, what’d you figure out? You were talking to the Spirit King, right?” It was Soul Howl, of course. Having seen Mira touch a capsule while glowing with the blessing, fall silent, and finally speak cryptic words, he urged her to share what she’d discussed.

“Yes, yes, just a moment.” With a hint of melancholy, Mira briefly summarized what she’d heard from the Spirit King and what she was to do next.

“Gotcha. We were right to think this was the cause.” They’d found the source of the power corrupting Fenrir, and a solution as well. Learning this, Soul Howl added, “I’ve helped you enough already. Don’t think I owe you, okay?” He closed the coffins again.

“Fair enough,” agreed Mira. She never would’ve arrived at the answer this quickly on her own. Then she asked, “So? You don’t need to pick a favorite?” Clearly, she was referring to a favorite corpse for Soul Howl to use in his necromancy. 

“No. They’re all empty and useless now. I guess everything got sucked into that hive mind thing or whatever.” He shrugged.

Though they were failures, the beings in the chamber had been created in hopes of making gods. No doubt they could’ve been fantastic vessels for necromancers, but unfortunately, Soul Howl’s investigation found them unfit for such a purpose.

“Let’s have our little memorial service so we can go home.” Soul Howl couldn’t possibly have checked all the coffins yet, but he seemed ready to give up the search. He sat down in a corner. “So, will you dance like a shrine maiden or something?” he joked, apparently planning to wait patiently until the pitiful single will calmed.

“Please. All I have to do is swing a sword.” Mira chuckled at his exaggerated inquisitiveness while she prepared. First, she summoned the necessary conduit, the holy sword Sanctia. “Shall we begin now?” She focused, holding the sword as it glowed with divine yet gentle light. The Spirit King’s blessing covered her body once more. Through her hands, his prayers poured into Sanctia.

In contrast to the purification of the Oni Princess, warm and peaceful light flowed from the sword. Mira swung it powerfully, pity and compassion in her heart. 

Light swelled forth and rained upon their surroundings. It gently engulfed the handmade shrine, wooden statue, numerous coffins, and the single spirit will. The scene was both mystical and melancholy. Before long, that light subsided quietly, and Mira heard the Spirit King’s voice in her head again.

“Their lingering regret is stronger than I thought. One more time, Miss Mira.”

They had performed the ritual with their strongest prayers, but these were the lingering regrets of those who’d wished to be gods. One or two swings of Sanctia wouldn’t soothe them fully.

“Understood.” Mira swung the sword a couple more times, wishing peace to the unworthy gods.

***

After thirteen swings, the air in the room turned palpably lighter.

The Spirit King declared that the job was finished. “Well done, Miss Mira. That one seemed to quiet them.”

“I-It’s over… Finally…” Mira collapsed, exhausted from having focused, prayed, and performed the ritual with all her might. Most of the power was the Spirit King’s, but her mana had been necessary to release that power from the holy sword, so it had fallen to below a quarter of its maximum amount.

With this, they’d managed to cut off the source of the power corrupting Fenrir. The Spirit King claimed that, after a month passed, all the power that had spread would be gone. The matter was definitely settled.

While Mira lay down in exhaustion, Martel’s voice rang through her mind: “Thank you, Mira. Now Fenrir can be free. Oh, and I have a message from him!”

After thanking Mira for fulfilling her promise, Martel passed on the message from Fenrir. It seemed Martel had been narrating things for the pup, so he knew everything about what was going on in the research facility. His message thanked Soul Howl, First Pupil, and Woofson alike.

When Mira seemed like she was finally recovering, Soul Howl stood and declared, “Welp, job’s done. Time to get going.”

“Mm, right. It’s already late at night.” She’d rather rest her head at an inn than rough it here. “Here goes…” She groaned like an old man as she stood. Still a little lethargic, she opened the door and left the unworthy gods’ gravesite behind.

Immediately after reentering the cultivation room, Mira let out a weird scream from sheer surprise. “Whaaagh?!”

“What’s wrong?!” Soul Howl asked. He rushed over and peeked out.

Before them was something…humanoid that looked almost like a woman.

Near the cluttered cultivation room’s entrance, the woman appeared dark gray, as if in shadow, although the orbs of light illuminated her brightly. The eyes that occasionally peeked through her long black hair were terrifyingly bloodshot.

“It’s her… That’s the one I saw—” Seeing those eyes made Mira certain that this woman was the unidentified being she’d glimpsed before. As she realized that, the creature groaned creepily and abruptly attacked. “Nwhaaa—?!”

Though panicked, Mira managed to summon a holy knight precisely between herself and the foe, blocking the assault. Shockingly, the gray woman clung to the holy knight. Then, with ridiculous strength, she overwhelmed it despite the difference in size.

“Goodness… She’s that strong?” Although they were lesser summons, Mira’s trained holy knights couldn’t be pushed back easily. Yet now, just hugging the knight was enough for the woman to stop its movements and even dent its armor. Quickly judging that she needed greater firepower, Mira began setting summoning points.

Soul Howl stepped forth to stop her. “Wow. So this is that abomination you mentioned.” He gazed calmly at the gray woman. Then, as the holy knight creaked and shattered to bits, he instantly summoned a golem to wrestle her down. While the gray woman screamed and struggled, Soul Howl had a second golem help hold her back as he surveyed her. “Oh, wow… Very interesting.”

Mira timidly approached to see her true identity too.

What was this woman? If she didn’t come up on Biometric Scan, she couldn’t be a living being. It was starting to seem likely that she was a surviving unworthy god. Did that make her an undead monster? If this was a spawn point, there should’ve been other monsters as well. It would be unnatural for there to be just one. 

Then what? Mira and Soul Howl arrived at one possible answer.

“Do you think she underwent fiend transformation?” Mira suggested.

“Yeah…” replied Soul Howl. “With an unworthy god’s corpse as a base, at that.”

That answer came from direct observation and a few assumptions. They suspected she was an undead fiend, and only one thing could’ve served as the base. Most significantly of all, there was a familiar silver collar on the woman’s neck.

At this point, the mechanism behind fiend transformations was unclear. All they knew was that it could happen anywhere. The pair believed some criteria had been met that turned the sleeping unworthy god’s corpse into a fiend. There was no precedent for a human turning into a fiend, so although they had humanoid forms, the unworthy gods weren’t human.

What tugged at the duo, though, was the creature’s appearance. The capsules in the coffins were only the size of babies. But the being in front of them was as large as an adult woman. Had she begun as an adult, or, even stranger, had she grown over all this time? The reason for her size was unclear, but that itself made sense, for the unworthy gods were unknown beings.

After they’d observed her for a moment, the gray woman struggled even more violently and shook off the golems’ restraints.

“Whoa…!”

“Mgh!”

She began to leap around more spryly than before, jumping forth to attack.

“She’s a lively one… Oh, yes, very nice. Very nice.” Soul Howl grinned creepily as he fended off her assault with golems.

“Ugh. Out comes the freak side again…” Mira grinned caustically.

Her first impression of the gray woman had been poor, but now that Mira got a better look, it was clear she’d once been beautiful. Yet her eyes were vacant, lifeless, and bloodshot, all at once. When she stood still, she slumped. Still, her nude figure was oddly enticing, which easily explained Soul Howl’s attitude. 

Mira quickly stepped back; she didn’t want to get between the two. She watched the battle from behind a holy knight to avoid stray attacks. In front of her, a fierce battle unfolded.

Even when they originated from small animals, fiends could be more dangerous than B-rank monsters. With an unworthy god as her base, the gray woman was surely beyond A-rank.

Supernatural events occurred before Mira’s eyes, like a poltergeist’s attacks taken to an extreme. Desks and machines floated and shot like bullets toward the golems and Soul Howl. The gray woman herself flew freely in midair, too, attacking with blackened hands. 

It seemed hers were not normal hands; every time they touched the golems, the latter eroded and even collapsed. From this angle, Soul Howl was clearly losing. He created golems continuously, only to see them barely fend off attacks before collapsing. It was as if the creature was toying with him.

Mira didn’t move. No matter how the gray woman struggled, her fate had been sealed the moment Soul Howl laid eyes on her. Undead girls couldn’t escape his clutches.

“Oh, wonderful. How powerful, how beautiful. Come, dear. Be mine!”

The “poltergeist” turned even more violent, but its storm of objects became meaningless instantly after. 

Soul Howl’s [Necromantic Arts: Dust Golem] gathered everything in the room and turned it all into one golem. The dust golem held out its limbs, withstanding the poltergeist-like power. With this, Soul Howl had canceled out one of the gray woman’s methods of attack.

But she didn’t stop there. This time, she reached her blackened hands directly for Soul Howl. This was, unfortunately, a poor move.

“Oh no. She’s done for,” Mira chuckled.

The agile gray woman flew through the air and struck deftly. Her hand was mere inches from Soul Howl, but just before it hit, it sank into mud that appeared out of nowhere. This was [Necromantic Arts: Mud Golem], whose mud stopped and engulfed all in its tracks.

The woman’s blackened hand destroyed the mud golem from the inside, but she would need more instantaneous firepower to deal with the continuous stream of golems Soul Howl was generating.

In the end, his endless mud golems won out, swallowing the woman whole. After a while, the mud golem finally backed off. The gray woman remained, pinned to the floor with rocky restraints.

If she hadn’t been up against Soul Howl—or rather, mages like him and Mira—the woman might’ve been a ferocious threat that took many victims. Unfortunately for her, the poltergeist-like attacks and her blackened hands had been easy for the two to deal with.

Wise Man Flonne’s Ethereal Arts could control hundreds of giant rocks at once. To someone who’d seen Flonne fight, these attacks were just inferior copies. Likewise, Wise Man Meilin could easily destroy anything her Immortal Arts touched. She even had the ability to grasp a target from a distance, making her much more difficult to battle.

Since they knew those two Wise Men, it was easy to fight off the gray woman. She was undead to boot, so Soul Howl’s victory was overwhelming.

While the gray woman struggled against her restraints, Soul Howl approached gleefully. “Now, be a good girl for me.” If they weren’t dealing with a fiend right now, this would look awfully criminal. He turned to Mira with a big smile. “Oh, Elder. Sorry, I hope you don’t mind waiting a minute.”

“Yes, yes, I know,” Mira replied. She pulled a chair out of the pile that was once the dust golem, then patiently watched as Soul Howl worked his magic.

He pinned down the restrained gray woman and used a special necromancer spell that would turn her back into a normal corpse. Although it depended on the state of the corpse, that spell could heal moderate damage and decay. In a way, it was like healing magic for undead targets. And it came with one special use: cast on undead fiends, it could bring them back to their senses.

However, it wasn’t perfect. It couldn’t undo a fiend transformation, due to the crystal within the body that caused that transformation. When the spell was cast on it, the crystal actively worked to maintain the fiend form.

“Okay. There it is.” Seeing the crystal’s reaction, Soul Howl stabbed the corpse with his knife—minimizing damage to the gray woman herself, of course.

She immediately shrieked like never before. It was a bone-chilling scream, accompanied by a wave of black miasma.

Her restraints shattered the instant the miasma touched them. She didn’t stop there, but screamed again, shaking the room itself violently. The desks, chairs, and other furniture went flying.

Soul Howl’s grin only deepened. “Whoa! Guess that’s what happens when you’re locked in a place like this so long. All that history hasn’t gone to waste, has it?”

“What was that? Resurrected’s Dying Cry? Goodness, that was intense.” Mira rolled her eyes in irritation and backed off farther. Then something surprising happened: perhaps as a result of the quaking, the shelves dividing the room collapsed spectacularly. “Oh, now look what you’ve done…”

When Mira turned, the unworthy gods’ gravesite was visible. Fortunately, only the nearby walls had sustained damage; the shrine and coffins were intact.

Mira and Soul Howl knew what the gray woman did to cause that. It was the final, enraged attack of undead fiends with a particularly long history behind them: Resurrected’s Dying Cry. 

Resurrected’s Dying Cry used that black miasma to bolster the user’s abilities and nullify some attacks. It also materialized wandering souls. More than just materialized them—as a bonus, it amplified the negative emotions within them.

Materialized souls would go berserk to vent those emotions. If a dragon’s or beast’s spirit happened to wander by when Resurrected’s Dying Cry was used, it could potentially turn a battle’s tide all on its own.

The opposite was true as well, however. Faced with the souls the cry had materialized, Mira furrowed her brow. Only the souls of the unworthy gods were wandering that area, and only juvenile emotions were left within them. They were innocent souls, lost before they developed complex emotions—let alone knew good and evil.

Therefore, though dozens had materialized, none fought for the gray woman. They didn’t even seem to understand the situation.

“Is this a message, my dear? You’re telling me you want to have lots of children! Oh, you’re so sweet!” Soul Howl was feeling better than ever.

Though the wandering spirits hadn’t bolstered the gray woman, the miasma had powered her up. Restraining her would be harder, and her poltergeist attacks would grow more frequent and intense.

But Soul Howl was ready to overcome all that—to make the gray woman his and dote on her freely with his own hands.