Chapter 78
The joy of victory was short-lived, as a chilling silence settled around Erich.
Drops of the dead's blue blood dripped from the faces of the members who had fought in the battle.
A complex mix of emotions clouded each of their faces.
It was only natural—this was the first time they had truly felt just how dangerous the dead could be.
If all they'd seen were regular dead, they might have dismissed them as just troublesome foes...
But the moment they witnessed a necromancer unleashing frost mist and terrifying spells, fear was etched into their minds.
Realizing how perilous the dead truly were—and with so many among them on the verge of sharing that fate—no one dared to speak.
Then, one of the deserter dead let out a pained wail.
― Grrrrr!
The members jumped in fright and drew their swords, aiming at him. But before they knew it, Franz appeared behind the creature.
― Snap!
Without hesitation, Franz cut off its head. All eyes turned to him with discomfort.
Unfazed, Franz sheathed his blade, then spoke to Erich as he approached.
"We kept our promise. Now it's your turn to keep yours."
What Erich had promised Franz: to settle everything so that such tragedies would not happen again.
That request included the deaths of themselves, but Franz spoke more serenely than anyone else.
Erich slowly nodded.
'It must have been a pain worse than death.'
Carving away his own flesh as he succumbed to the dead's corruption, what could he have been thinking?
Rather than presume to understand his suffering, Erich decided to honor their pact by keeping his word.
Erich stepped toward Franz. But as Erich reached for his sword, Franz quietly spoke.
"... If possible, please... do us all at once."
"How?"
"That fire you used a moment ago. The dead's bodies easily catch flame. If you use it while we're all together, you'll spare yourself the effort."
Erich narrowed his eyes. Certainly, that would save him trouble...
"It will be very painful. That creature said so earlier. Extremely hot and excruciating."
"We are accustomed to pain. Besides, that fire..."
Franz gave a faint, bitter smile and continued.
"Aren't you an apostle of Incensus? One who returned from death."
"... That rumor spreads disgustingly fast. Did you hear back in the fortress?"
"Yes. As a military chaplain, it was only natural... Besides, I heard that in the past, the church would burn sinners at the stake to cleanse their sins."
"... You think becoming one of the dead is your sin?"
"Our god is the God of Fire. For us to become something opposed to that, one could interpret it as sin. And life is a domain only god can control. We who have broken the natural order of death are sinners from the start."
Erich slowly nodded. It would be absurd to debate theology with a former priest.
If that was what Franz wanted, he would honor his wish.
Erich spoke up.
"It would be silly for me to discuss theology with you. Gather your companions. I'll do what I can."
"Thank you. Then..."
Franz looked to his fellow dead. As they gathered in a circle, the other members watched over them.
― Swish.
Soon, Franz knelt before Erich. The other dead clustered around, preparing themselves for cremation.
To onlookers, it might have resembled a ceremonial baptism. As Erich prepared for the execution, he inwardly smirked at the irony, placing his hand upon Franz's brow.
― Vmmm.
'Incensus. Do you see them?'
A crimson radiance blazed from Erich's eyes. A force like flames rising within his whole body gathered into his hand.
'They call themselves sinners.'
But to Erich, those before him were not merely dead or, as they themselves said, sinners.
He saw them as ascetics who fought the dead by cutting away their own flesh, the final sentinels guarding humanity on the far side of the Great Wall.
'Would you say the same?'
It was exceedingly rare for a Swordmaster to use his power this way, but Erich had no intention of saving his aura here.
He applied a method he had seen barbarians use, adapting it for his own strength.
And as a result—
― Whoosh!
Flames surged from Erich's hand. This was not the tightly concentrated aura meant to shatter steel and tear flesh, but soft, gentle fire meant to spread wide.
The wave of golden flames enveloped Franz and skillfully spread to the dead behind him.
― Grrrr.
Franz trembled as the flames took hold. His body reacted exactly as it had when he suffered before.
To experience burning at the stake while alive was no jest.
But for them, this was the final pain of life—the moment that marked the end of all the agony they had endured.
Starting with Franz, the dead's pale flesh was devoured by intensifying flames.
White smoke and fire mingled, scattering golden halos in all directions.
Not knowing the story, one might have called the scene truly spectacular.
― Flop.
One by one, the dead began to fall. Erich noticed it was those closest to becoming the dead who fell first.
Apparently, Erich's golden aura, whose effect amplified upon touching the dead, killed those further gone much more swiftly.
But only for a moment.
A twitch worked its way across Erich's brow. In his vision, he saw the dead's flesh. He saw the chill of frost that had spread through them.
Yet the gentle, radiant flames burned away the chill. The blue cells of the dead receded wherever the fire touched.
Their blue flesh gradually darkened. But, it wasn't simple charring—
'... Could it be?'
Erich's eyes widened. If his hunch was correct, he might be able to save those destined to become the dead.
'The portions already overtaken by the dead are lost, but as long as it doesn't affect vital areas...!'
There was a chance this could be the answer to changing the fate of those doomed to become the dead.
Somehow, Erich felt a pang of emptiness amidst the joy. These deserter dead were the shame of the 6th Fortress.
Despite enduring unimaginable pain to hide themselves, they, in the end, left behind a clue that could save their comrades.
'... In the end, they are the same as those others.'
The deserter dead and the still-human residents of the 6th Fortress—they were, strictly speaking, the same people.
Even those who hadn't deserted yet would have made the same choice in their place.
It was not that these had made a uniquely noble sacrifice. If the others had found themselves in the same position, they would have done the same.
A faint smile flickered across Erich's lips, spreading like fire. Before him, looking bewildered to still be alive, stood Franz.
"Congratulations on being reborn, Franz."
"... What on earth just happened?"
Erich looked over at the dead, now hardened into black stone.
These were the ones who had given Franz the knowledge to hold out without succumbing to death himself.
Although Franz survived, only four—including him—of over a hundred deserter dead escaped petrification.
And even then, only Franz seemed to retain consciousness; the others merely moved like pseudo-dead.
But Erich discerned something different in their eyes: not the bleak whiteness of the dead, but the warm glow of humanity.
Although half his body was burned and petrified into black stone, Franz managed to raise himself, able to move regardless.
― Crackling.
Ash fell from the blackened body of the moving Franz. Even so, he clenched his fists, able to move.
"How is this possible? Are you truly an Apostle of Incensus?"
"Well, I won't argue the point. Think what you will. I... didn't intend for this. Call it luck."
Erich then turned around and looked at Gustav and the others. At this moment, he could read hope in their eyes.
Not everyone would survive, but it was preferable to killing them all. Erich drew up his power, and his eyes gleamed with even greater radiance.
― Vuuum.
As the power condensed, crimson sparks leapt from his radiance. Soon, a gentle blaze spread around him.
"What, oh!"
"Aah! Gaaah!"
Members struck by the flame screamed.
But Erich's fire was not hot enough to burn their flesh; just as with the dead, it was sufficient to burn away the dead's cells overtaking their bodies.
Though they writhed in pain, their screams suddenly stopped. Maybe, in that instant, they contemplated the agony Franz and the others had endured.
Erich's flames subsided, and the men with blackened patches here or there rose to their feet.
Of course, not all did. Those whose vital organs had been infected by the dead's cells collapsed and did not rise again.
But no one complained. The reality that they would not become the dead—over nine-tenths of the nearly thousand members had survived—was cause for rejoicing.
Frederick flashed a yellow-toothed smile.
"You lads... can't believe you're this happy."
Erich's gaze now fell on Barnes, who was carrying the unconscious Joseph on his back. It was time to interrogate him.
'Besides, the 6th Fortress still reeks of suspicion. I have to figure that out, too.'
As he'd previously suspected, the morale among the soldiers of the 6th Fortress had been abnormal. Their intensity about defending the Fortress as well.
If there was another secret in this place, Erich would have to uncover it.
All these things had contributed to their assault beyond the Great Wall.
Erich gently called out to Frederick and Barnes.
"We're returning to the 6th Fortress."
At Erich's declaration, the fortress members let out a cheer. Despite everything, a victory was still a victory for now.
Thus, the survivors set off toward the 6th Fortress—those who lived through, plus Franz and the other three deserter survivors who could now go on living.
Erich suddenly found himself curious about what kind of reaction Richter would show when he saw the returning soldiers.
-------------= Clacky's Corner -------------=
Incensus isn't indifferent...
【ദ്ദി(⩌ᴗ⩌)】