Chapter 133 : The Patriot, sir.
The Patriot, sir.
Priest Rugar.
What emanated from his body was unmistakably the aura of "necromancy."
There was no need to agonize over what that meant.
Rugar.
The guy was a necromancer.
"Hoo."
It was while I was observing the aura wafting from Rugar's body.
A slowly dispersing black energy. Rugar continued to eye me.
Seeing that, I knew. This guy wasn't cloaking himself in this aura to "warn" or "threaten."
It was part of extracting information. I felt certain of that.
"I'd like everyone to step outside for just a moment, if you don't mind."
Rugar, having completely withdrawn the aura of "necromancy," began to speak.
As soon as he said that, those around us started to look perplexed.
"What on earth are you saying, rugar?"
"I meant exactly what I said. I want to speak with him alone."
"With me?"
When the chieftain pointed to himself and asked, rugar slowly shook his head.
"Dmihtan Elvar, I want to speak with you alone."
For a moment, the air inside the cave grew heavy.
"What are you saying!"
The first to break the silence was Barkal. He stepped forward, yelling.
"The one who tried to assassinate his brother now wants a private conversation?"
"Calm down, Barkal."
The chieftain stopped his son, but even his voice was laced with wariness.
"I can't calm down! I won't allow even a fingertip on the Sage's body!"
"Rugar, I don't know what you're thinking, but I cannot accept this."
Faced with persistent refusals, rugar sighed and turned his gaze to me.
Honestly, it was an offer I didn't need to accept. Did we really need to converse alone?
"I'll hear him out."
Even so, I accepted his proposal.
The traces of "necromancy"
I'd sensed earlier weren't weapons intended to attack.
And in any case, even if we were alone, I wouldn't be able to leave this place.
This is a cave.
There's only one entrance—there's no way out even if we're alone.
"Brother, the priest is dangerous. He's the one who tried to kill you!"
"R-right. If you're going to talk, I'll be with you!"
Serena also approached, anxiety written on her face.
It was touching, but unnecessary.
"It's fine. It'll only take a moment."
I nodded to reassure them.
"Dmihtan, will you really be alright?"
The chieftain also regarded me with a steady gaze.
"I will."
"Very well. But if anything even slightly suspicious happens, I'll come in immediately."
With that, the chieftain threw a subtle look at Rugar.
Slowly, he withdrew from the cave. Barkal and Serena, still looking uneasy, followed him out.
"Brother, we'll wait outside!"
"If anything happens, call out right away!"
Their voices grew distant. Soon, only Rugar and I remained inside the cave.
"Dmihtan Elvar."
It was Rugar who first broke the strange silence. He stared at me with sharp eyes.
For someone who'd sent an assassin, he was remarkably brazen.
"What exactly are you?"
Straight to the point, huh? "What am I," he asks?
That was something I wanted to know, too.
"That's what I want to ask you."
"I understand there's a lot we both want to know, but let me speak first."
Rugar's gaze changed.
"The aura I sensed from you during the coming-of-age ceremony. And the fact you detected my aura just now."
As I thought.
He had radiated that aura earlier to "discern" something.
"You are no ordinary barbarian."
Rugar slowly approached me. I checked the position of the "Blood-Colored Awl", ready to react if I detected any hostility.
"No, you're not even a barbarian at all."
His tone was icy, so devoid of the bold cheerfulness typical of the barbarian tribes that it chilled me.
"Necromancer."
At the word Rugar uttered, I smiled.
"That's an amusing guess."
"It's not a guess. It's a certainty."
Once again, black energy surged from Rugar's body.
It wasn't a means of harming me—like before, it was an attempt to glean "information."
"Why have you come back here? Why would a necromancer who left return to the barbarian village?"
Rugar spoke with a depth of questioning that was impossible to describe.
And with a strong sense of resolve as well.
Depending on what answer I gave—
He was prepared to sink his teeth into my throat, even if it cost him his own life.
Why, though?
I, too, was filled with questions, and thus I couldn't help but ask.
"Rugar, why are you performing an unholy ritual?"
Why would someone with such genuine affection for the tribe assist the "Seven Abyssal Brands"?
And Rugar was a necromancer, after all.
"An unholy ritual?"
"That's right."
I slowly walked around, inspecting the ritual marks etched nearby.
It was clear that amidst the symbols of blood, wolves, and weapons, trademarks of Thrag, something belonging to the "Seven Abyssal Brands" was marked.
I checked them one by one, trying to find it.
"The epidemic that's spreading through the tribe—was it not you who caused it?"
"... The epidemic."
Rugar let out a bitter smile.
"Do you believe this is my doing?"
"If not, deny it."
"I deny it."
After that, he spoke firmly.
"I am also searching for the source of this epidemic."
"The source of the epidemic?"
"Yes."
Of course, he'd deny it and try to explain himself. Agreeing with me here would mean death in an instant.
"To be precise, I am searching for the unholy ritual that is being carried out by spreading this plague."
Rugar's voice now radiated both resolve and a simmering emotion.
"Do you know the name Darsan?"
Of course, I knew. But I decided not to pretend and let Rugar continue.
"The day Darsan left for his final dungeon, my son was in his party."
At Rugar's words, I held my breath again.
Darsan's last dungeon.
I knew how that story ended.
But I feared there was a risk of misunderstanding.
Darsan was a barbarian who betrayed the tribe and fled. I hadn't had the chance to clear up that misunderstanding for everyone yet.
"Darsan was not the one who killed your son."
"I know that."
I tried to set things straight, but was met with an unexpected reply.
"That dungeon was an Abyssification dungeon. My son, lugonu, and Darsan's party were killed by none other than the aftereffects of the Abyss."
How did he know that? Only a handful of people knew that secret.
And unless Thrag himself told them, that secret wouldn't have been unearthed.
"I heard it directly from Lugonu."
Saying this, the priest pulled up his tunic and revealed his abdomen.
I gasped.
Rugar's stomach bore a horrific scar.
It was no ordinary wound. It looked as if something had been torn out, or forcibly "extracted," from the inside.
The flesh, stained a dark blood-red, had healed into twisted welts, and faint markings encircled the area.
I recognized it immediately.
That was the "price."
"The price of betrayal."
Rugar spoke calmly.
"I crossed a forbidden line to find out why Lugonu died."
"And that's how you learned necromancy?"
"Yes."
Rugar nodded. His gaze was cold and heavy.
"This wound is the price. The cost of betraying Thrag's faith and using repulsive magic."
That Thrag allows me, a necromancer, to remain here was practically a favor.
Normally, "ranged techniques" were tolerated to an extent, but Thrag foamed at the mouth over "necromancy."
Thrag, the god of barbarians, would never forgive His faithful for committing such sins.
"Thrag took part of my organs. Still, I don't mind. I heard what I needed to hear."
"What did you hear?"
Was it right to ask directly about a departing son's last words? Still, to me, rugar was a sinner.
This was no time to feel pangs of conscience.
The issue was Rugar's own will.
He gazed at me and pondered deeply for a moment.
Then, apparently deciding it was alright, he finally spoke.
"That Darsan was not the culprit."
I knew that too.
"That something serving the Abyss is deeply involved in the tribe."
I knew that too.
"And that this being planted something in the bodies of the barbarians for some kind of ritual."
That, I was hearing for the first time, but I could guess what it was.
Tendon.
They inserted those tendons, making cases like "Darsan."
They were creating a "vessel" capable of accepting Abyssal Energy.
But then—
If he could hear all this, couldn't he just find out directly who the culprit was?
"... Spirits summoned by necromancy cannot maintain their sense of self. Because of that, I couldn't hear the details."
As though reading my mind, rugar said this, and suddenly dropped to his knees.
Thunk.
The sound of knees striking the hard cave floor echoed.
"Please, Dmihtan Elvar!"
With a voice brimming with sincerity, rugar continued.
"I want to catch the infiltrator hiding in the tribe! Having defiled my son's soul, I will never be able to stand by Thrag's side even in death!"
Desperately,
his voice was thick with accumulated guilt and anger.
"So please, let me uproot the darkness lurking within the tribe before I die!"
It was strange to hear such words so suddenly.
Understandable, though, for Rugar and I still had unfinished business between us.
You.
You didn't trust me and commissioned my assassination.