Hero's Coffin Chapter 4

Chapter 4

"That's right, a leash. We need to keep you from running off on your own, don't we?"

As Harenir lightly waved his hand, the line floating in the air swayed gently, and he could feel the vibration clearly on his neck. It seemed that the 'line' would appear when he needed it and be used for control.

"If you do anything contrary to my will, I'll activate the device on your neck. Then your head will go pop- and explode, so be mindful of your actions from now on. Oh, and it'll explode if you try to forcibly remove it too."

"..."

"And no matter where you try to run, as long as you have that leash on, you'll be pulled towards me, so don't entertain any foolish ideas. What if you get hurt while being dragged back after going too far?"

His tone of concern was extremely affectionate. His eyes softened as if worried about the injuries he might sustain from rolling on the ground, hitting trees, or falling into rivers...

Was there no way to cancel the quest? Could he not log out?

With such thoughts, he stared blankly at the black cat, but the cat only made a cute "Meow" sound. Usually, cats make sounds like "Mew," "Mrreow," or "Nyah," but was this one meowing by the book because it was an NPC? He kept trying to convey his intense thoughts through his eyes, but the cat just tilted its head as if it didn't understand.

Right, NPCs are only capable of one-way communication...

He closed his eyes tightly, swallowing a sigh. The situation of having a leash put on him right after his handcuffs were cut was really unwelcome, but there was nothing he could do about it.

This game, he'd quit as soon as he cleared it.

#Part 2. 2%

In the dead of night, they moved while hiding in the grass.

As soon as he put on the leash, Harenir said, "Let's move," and turned his back. The other two seemed to know the destination and naturally followed, while he trailed behind them, feeling dazed.

Those two must be holy knights, right? Close enough to share the truth that their commander hadn't actually died, perhaps his left and right hands. Maybe they were the ones who had falsely reported the hero's death in the first place. Could they have been the ones who carried the 'coffin' that paraded through the streets today?

"Why did you pretend to be dead?"

When he openly asked one of the questions that had been piling up, Harenir stopped. Encouraged by his action of turning around to look at him, he poured out a few more questions.

"Why do you need my necromancy? Is there a reason it has to be me? Surely, I'm not the only necromancer in the Empire..."

He threw in the last part cautiously. In creative works, necromancers were often seen as unrighteous beings, and since this was called a Holy Empire, they would be even more frowned upon by the state, but surely this body wasn't the only one. There must be other necromancers, so why?

Was this body's ability so exceptional that it was worth the trouble of breaking someone out of prison? Or did he deliberately target someone with a weakness because he needed to move in secret? Did he think an escaped prisoner would obey more easily? But wasn't destroying the prison too much trouble?

"And why are you going to the Encroachment Zone?"

He was also curious about what the Encroachment Zone was, but it seemed dangerous to ask that as well. Since both knights immediately understood the term, it was likely a place commonly known in this world. For now, it was clear that it was dangerous, so he could probably deduce more if he knew the purpose.

Harenir smiled slightly and asked,

"Are you done with your questions?"

"...For now."

"Alright. Let's continue moving then."

His voice was so refreshing that for a moment, he thought Harenir had kindly answered but he had missed it. He blinked a few times before belatedly protesting to Harenir's back.

"Why aren't you answering?"

"Did I ever say I would answer you?"

Well, that's true. He found himself nodding unconsciously at the extremely matter-of-fact retort, before getting annoyed a beat later. The trap was that his voice made every sentence sound like a factual statement, making him accept it without question.

No, isn't it normal to answer when someone asks a question? Isn't that an implicit rule in human communication? Even if you don't treat me like a person...!

"Your role is to summon the undead when I instruct you to. That's all, so why do you need to know more? You wouldn't be interested in anything that doesn't involve souls anyway."

The blue eyes that turned to look him over were infinitely cold. It was a look that seemed to view his questions as deceptive behavior. It seemed difficult for a smiling face to express such disgust...

"But I'll answer one thing. The reason it had to be you is because you've been going around collecting the most corpses, extracting their souls, and enslaving them. You're the only one vicious enough to control human souls by the dozens, by the hundreds."

"..."

"Satisfied?"

Hmm, so he was a subject capable of evoking disgust even through that saintly face. He quickly nodded and shut his mouth. There wasn't a single curse word in what was said, yet every word stabbed sharply as if criticizing him.

Necromancer, or sorcerer of the dead. One who summons the souls of the dead to seek answers to current problems or prophesy the future. In fiction, this ability was often portrayed as evil. Summoning evil spirits, controlling corpses like zombies without permission, conducting strange experiments on souls, and so on.

So he had expected something like that, but hmm, actively seeking out human corpses and extracting souls to use as slaves... It did seem worthy of execution...

He felt dejected, thinking that he couldn't escape from ghosts even in this life after seeing them in his previous one, but he also felt suddenly indignant. If he was put into such an evil body, couldn't the NPC have explained it properly to avoid awkwardness? He glared at the cat walking beside him, but it only meowed in response.

'Status window! Quest progress! Map! Inventory!'

No matter how hard he shouted internally, nothing appeared before his eyes. He tried calling for the most common features in games, hoping for anything to pop up in the air, but to no avail.

Where did that H.N from earlier go? Does this bastard only show up when it wants to? If it's going to act like this, at least add a one-time 'Punch the Hero in the Face' ticket to the quest rewards! As he was grumbling internally, the red-haired knight suddenly clicked his tongue.

"Tch, of course he's with a black cat."

The tone of disgust made him wonder if the knight disliked cats, but this was followed by a surprising realization. When the cat suddenly sprang out of the bushes earlier, no one was surprised; rather, they seemed to have expected it.

And even now, as they were moving somewhere, the cat was following beside him, and no one questioned it. It was strange enough to wonder about, but could it be that this cat had always been with this body?

Isaph, could he have been a cat butler...

"How did you create that familiar? Did you subjugate a cat's soul too?"

Ah, a familiar.

No wonder its purple eyes weren't ordinary, it was a familiar. An animal bound in a master-servant relationship with Isaph? Somehow, he felt an even stronger aversion than when he heard about extracting human souls, and as he was feeling a bitter distance from this body, the red-haired knight suddenly stopped.

His face suggested that he had interpreted the lack of response as ignoring him, so he reluctantly opened his mouth.

"I don't know either."

"Ha. What a reliable answer."

The knight sneered, but he really didn't know, so there was nothing he could do. In a normal game, a name or information would appear above the character, but even such a function wasn't provided. The UI was really terrible. No wonder he couldn't remember this game. He must have turned it off right after starting because it was so inconvenient.

The man's thick eyebrows shot up. He seemed displeased that there was no reaction even to his rather fierce sarcasm. Obvious disgust rose in his reddish-brown eyes as they looked him up and down. With a much more aggressive aura than Harenir, his gaze seemed to say that he was only refraining from beating him up because the commander was present.

"Are you not going to answer?"

"...I never said I would answer you."

"You little-!"

He tried using what he had just learned from Harenir, but it backfired, of course. The knight flared up and grabbed him by the collar. He had thought that since the knight seemed to greatly respect the commander, if he imitated him, he might be treated as a fellow fan who remembered even the smallest details of their favorite person, but... apparently not.

He had actually thrown out the comment intending to provoke, but he was surprised when his body was lifted into the air as soon as his collar was grabbed. Was this knight incredibly strong, or was this body as light as a paper doll?

"Be quiet, Kalterik. We've arrived."

The silver-haired knight calmly interrupted the commotion. It wasn't out of concern for him being lifted into the air by his collar, but simply to restrain the noise because they had reached their destination.

And Harenir, perhaps intending to warn about the same thing, turned around and said,

"Please refrain from unnecessary disturbances. And you too..."

He looked at him with a very strange expression. He seemed quite bewildered by what he had said in front of Kalterik, who had a large build and a fierce appearance. Moreover, even now, he was strangely looking at his feet dangling in the air, as he wasn't struggling at all despite being lifted up by his collar.