How a Reincarnated Warlock Lives – Chapter 200

Chapter 200: How the Reincarnated Black Mage Lives (FIN)

The nameless plain battlefield, once filled with the cacophony of life and death, has become one of the quietest places in the world, just a few hours later.

Paradoxically, as with many things in the world, there were those who made this field, filled with an ominous aura of death, their home.

The birds and beasts that pecked at the cooled flesh, and the petty thieves who rummaged through the corpses, were among them.

“Sigh.”

Glyn sighed and wiped the sweat from his forehead. He was usually called Crow rather than his own name.

And it was a fitting nickname.

After the battle ends, and before the soldiers come to collect the bodies and equipment, the quietest time lasts for about half a day. It was a short time, but for the crows, it was enough to achieve their purpose.

Caw. The caw of a real crow that flew a long distance to feed on the corpses could be heard in the distance. Most people considered it an ominous cry, but Glyn whistled as he listened to the cry, which sounded like a cheerful song to him.

“Today’s harvest is pretty good, isn’t it?”

He hummed at the clinking sound coming from the small leather pouch he pulled out of the clothes of an unknown soldier.

Rummaging through the corpses, cutting the leather clothes with a dagger, and pulling out the small belongings inside was not a pleasant task, but he had no complaints about it.

Of course. What easy job is there to do to make a living?

“Thank you, nameless friend. I’ll use your share well, so go in peace.”

He said, pulling out a small pouch from inside the soldier’s clothes and rummaging through it, pulling out a copper coin. A small copper coin, barely enough to buy a hard black bread, was often used in a different sense on the continent.

He bent down and forced open the mouth of the dead soldier, putting the copper coin in it.

Due to rigor mortis, the mouth didn’t open easily, and he had to use a dagger. A wound appeared on the corner of the unknown soldier’s mouth, and blood that hadn’t fully drained flowed out, but no one here cared about it now.

After finishing his work, he snorted and wiped his dirty clothes with his hands.

There was still some time left before the soldiers arrived to clean up the battlefield, but he carefully walked between the corpses.

Greed is forbidden.

If he was unlucky enough to be caught by the soldiers, he would be summarily executed without a second thought.

Fair trials and bails didn’t exist for ignorant people like Glyn.

Especially in these ominous times.

‘There are more and more wars these days.’

It was a chaotic era. An era where many stories were heard around.

The church, which had firmly ruled the vast territory located in the center of the continent, was shaking, and countless large and small cities and kingdoms that had been waiting for an opportunity were moving to secure their own interests.

The church, which would have immediately raised an army to mercilessly subjugate those who disturbed the order of the continent just a few years ago, was strangely quiet.

As if something serious was happening within the church, as if they couldn’t care about anything else.

‘Well.’

Glyn shrugged.

It wasn’t something that he, a mere petty thief who had come down from a deep mountain village and jumped into this work a few months ago, should care about.

He couldn’t find out more about it anyway.

In any case, the fact that there were more and more battles, big and small, was not bad for him at all. In other words, it meant that Glyn’s pockets were getting fatter.

‘Now, it’s about time…’

Glyn, who had reaped a good harvest, closed the eyes of the nameless corpse one last time and got up to leave the field.

And just as he was about to take a step.

“……?!”

He was walking carefully so as not to trip over the corpses scattered everywhere when he heard a sound and stopped.

“It’s a shame to waste such a good night.”

A small murmur.

Amidst the cries of crows coming from all directions, an artificial sound, clearly made by someone, could be heard.

He lowered his posture and carefully moved forward.

Before the sun rose, in the cool air of the dim dawn with the bright moonlight shining down, something caught Glyn’s eye.

A man in a black cloak, with a longsword at his waist, was reaching out to a corpse.

“It’s a truly beautiful moon, isn’t it?”

The words were not addressed to him, who was hiding behind the man.

The man was trying to have a conversation with the corpse, which had already breathed its last in a gruesome state.

‘He’s crazy, he’s crazy!’

Glyn covered his mouth and backed away.

He could understand if it was just a word or two conventionally addressed to the dead, like he had done a while ago, but the sight of the man humming like a song and having a normal conversation with a corpse that had long since died was anything but normal.

The longsword on the man’s waist and the luxurious-looking black cloak. He was not someone Glyn, who rummaged through the belongings of corpses, could handle.

He had completely given up on the option of fighting from the beginning, so he focused all his nerves, covered his mouth quietly, and stepped back as carefully as possible.

It was an almost perfectly stealthy and quiet movement.

With eyesight and agility that were quite superior to others, he hadn’t experienced much, but he had never been caught by soldiers while wandering through many battlefields.

Walking carefully, avoiding the corpses, and watching his steps so as not to trip, Glyn suddenly looked up.

‘Huh?’

He was gone.

The man who had been calmly trying to have a conversation with the corpse just moments ago had disappeared without a trace.

Just as he was about to look around in surprise, a voice reached him.

“Let me ask you just one thing.”

“Gasp!”

Glyn shouted in surprise at the voice coming from right next to him.

Right next to him, a man in black clothes was looking at him. He hadn’t felt his presence at all, despite being caught from behind.

‘Damn it!’

Glyn’s eyes darted around. And.

He threw away the dagger he had been holding to cut the clothes of the corpses and prostrated himself on the ground. It was an extremely quick judgment.

“Please spare me! My Lord! I didn’t do anything! Please, just spare my life…”

“Have you heard any strange rumors lately, going back and forth between the battlefields and the villages?”

“Please spare me! Please spare… Huh?”

Despite Glyn’s question, the man continued to speak in a calm tone.

“Rumors about devils or witches, something like that.”

Glyn blinked at the unexpected question. It wasn’t a familiar story. Especially these days.

Perhaps there was something he hadn’t noticed in the man’s words. Glyn carefully asked, trying not to offend this crazy man.

“F-For example, like what…?”

“Ah.”

The man nodded lightly at Glyn’s question, as if it were a good one. With a slightly relieved smile on his face.

“For example—”

Swipe. A simple gesture, containing no threat.

“Like this?”

But what happened next was unbelievable.

Groan. The corpse, which had been lying dead until just a moment ago, no, which had been dead and lying down, was slowly getting up.

A sight he had never seen before. Glyn’s face turned white at the sight that defied common sense.

“H-Hiiik!”

Grooooan. The bloodless corpse was staggering to its feet. Conversely, Glyn, whose legs had lost their strength, collapsed on the spot.

“I guess not. Indeed.”

Seeing the honest reaction, the man nodded as if he had heard the answer. With a slightly relieved smile on his face.

Of course, Glyn, who was terrified beyond caring about such things, closed his eyes tightly, and when he opened them again.

“Huh?”

The man was gone.

“Huhhh?”

The corpse, which had been reaching out with a creepy sound just moments ago, had collapsed, and the moon was still shining brightly.

Glyn rubbed his eyes. He hadn’t seen things just now. But, as a talented petty thief, he was grateful for the luck that had happened and quickly got up. He had to get out of here quickly before he ran into that crazy man again.

“…”

Tap. As he crossed the plain filled with corpses, he gulped at the strange feeling.

The workplace he had enjoyed just a moment ago, even humming, now felt eerie. It felt like the corpses would rise again and grab his ankles at any moment.

“Damn it.”

Thinking that he should wash his hands and find a normal job as soon as he returned to the nearby village, Glyn quickly left the field.

Behind him, the moon, caught between the clouds, was shedding a bluish light.

🔹🔹🔹

A luxurious yet practically decorated room. In an office located deep within the capital of the Cravassia Empire, a woman was exhaling thick cigarette smoke.

In front of her, a young man with blue eyes and blond hair, Crown Prince Caely Von Cravassia, was wearing a bored expression.

Puff. Another exhale of cigarette smoke.

It wasn’t a very appropriate behavior in front of the Crown Prince, but no one pointed it out or cared.

“…Is the plan on hold?”

The meaning of the plan mentioned by the woman exhaling cigarette smoke, the Counterintelligence Director Rushikella, was clear. The Empire’s ambition for the church’s territory. The westward expansion that they had been preparing for a long time.

However, the Crown Prince’s answer was immediate.

“That’s on indefinite hold.”

“But…”

Rushikella trailed off, sounding a bit wronged by the firm words. But she didn’t protest much, as if she agreed to some extent.

“You saw him too, so there’s no need for further explanation.”

Although the name wasn’t mentioned, there was no need to ask who the Crown Prince was referring to.

Rushikella, who was fiddling with the uncomfortable junction of the bandage that hadn’t been fully unwrapped, sighed and muttered. She clearly remembered the gaze of the man who had shocked the Empire several times in almost every way.

The Crown Prince’s judgment was rational, both in terms of justification and practicality.

There was no need to gamble in a situation like this, and the Empire still owed him a debt.

“…… Well, that’s true.”

Rushikella soon nodded and put her hands inside her coat.

She knew very well that even now, large and small conflicts were occurring throughout the Church’s territory. Of course, by their standards, these were hardly things that could be called battles.

In a way, these were natural phenomena that had been suppressed by force until now. And they were matters that would have no impact on the overall situation of the continent.

A chaotic era was beginning, but if the Empire didn’t move, this sudden peace wouldn’t be broken.

Sweep. As she moved her arm, the thick overcoat slightly opened, revealing the steel prosthetic arm that replaced her right arm.

Chik. Lighting the thick cigar she had just taken out, she deeply inhaled the thick smoke. The pungent scent filled her lungs deeply.

Hoo. Exhaling the smoke, she looked at the peaceful scenery of the capital visible outside.

She thought that perhaps, it might be a rather long peace.

🔹🔹🔹

Inside the Shadow Church, the distinction between day and night was not clear.

In the grandly curved chapel of the old building, a woman sat with her legs crossed. She looked at the red liquid in the glass she was holding.

“…”

The faint scent of blood. It wasn’t a race that fit well with the chapel, but none of the residents of the Shadow Church were normal humans anyway.

Witches and wizards, shamans and dark elves, and vampires.

The members of the Black Dawn Society usually wandered freely around the continent without interfering with each other. But lately, they had all stayed inside the boring Shadow Church as if they had made a promise.

As if waiting for someone to return.

“Huh?”

Marchena, who was looking boredly at the outside scenery filled with a mysterious purple fog, suddenly jumped up at the strange wave she felt.

The signal sent by someone who had the legitimate right to rule the Shadow Church, weaving their power.

It was the first time she had experienced it, but there was no need to wonder who it came from.

“!”

Their leader was returning.

Everyone else must have felt it too. Marchena smiled and drained the glass she was holding. The sweet scent of blood flowed down her throat.

🔹🔹🔹

The atmosphere in Hesterica was quite festive.

Today was All Saints’ Day, Halloween.

The streets were bustling with people who had come out to celebrate Halloween, the biggest festival of the year.

Unlike the church leaders who were enveloped in a heavy silence, the faces of the ordinary citizens were happy and bright.

Now that the reconstruction of the city was complete, the streets were filled with a wonderful mix of instruments and songs, laughter, and the cries of merchants.

And among the crowd was a brother who had come from the Holy See.

The young man, walking diligently, soon reached the large fountain in the center of the city. As he sat on the podium in front of the statue that was spouting a cool stream of water, a sudden voice reached him.

“Jerit, did you enjoy your trip?”

It was a sudden question without any greeting, but the young man was not flustered. He smiled and turned his head, answering.

“Yes. Everyone seems to be doing well. Except for the leaders of our Holy See.”

“That’s good to hear.”

There was no one in the church who could clearly define the cause of the sudden phenomenon. The connection to the heavens, which had been faintly maintained until now, had been cut off without any warning, and the church leaders were busy hiding the fact.

“Sophia must be very sad.”

Jerit smiled faintly at the words that referred to the Saintess familiarly.

“Well, not necessarily. She’s actually excited and insists on learning things she couldn’t do before.”

“Hmm.”

“Of course, she’s most eagerly awaiting someone’s visit…”

Jerit glanced at the young man with blue eyes, Luciel, who was sitting by the fountain and looking at the street.

Chuckling, he shrugged and pointed to the newly built Inquisition in front.

“Go in. Lephra is waiting. No, should I use an honorific now?”

“Ah. I heard the story. That she became the new Chief Inquisitor…”

Jerit nodded brightly and slowly got up, looking closely at the young man.

A black cloak and a sword. A small backpack. He looked no different than usual, but Jerit, who had traveled with him to many places, could tell right away.

That he was ready to move again.

“Inquisitor-nim, are you planning to leave right away?”

The young man chuckled at the word Inquisitor and looked at Jerit.

“Lephra practically threatened me to take the position of Head. With her rapier half drawn.”

“So, did you take it?”

“No way.”

He shrugged and continued.

“She said she’d leave the seat vacant. I don’t have any particular thoughts on it, though.”

The conversation paused for a moment. The man looked at the water still flowing vigorously and then slowly opened his mouth.

“There was a small village called Coheln. A little boy named Astrid lived there.”

A sudden story. But Jerit listened attentively to the man’s words, as always.

“It was during the Second Purification Crusade.”

“The Second Purification Crusade. Then it must have been more than six hundred years ago.”

The man continued his story calmly.

Perhaps because it was a story from the old days, with few records left, the man’s story was not very long.

An ordinary story that could be found anywhere. The story soon ended as expected.

But Jerit tilted his head, intrigued by the strange resonance, and asked.

“So, what choice did the child make? Did he take revenge?”

“What would you have done? What choice would you have made?”

Jerit lowered his head and pondered for a moment at the words addressed to him with a gentle smile. Then he slowly raised his face and opened his mouth.

“If it were me…”

🔹🔹🔹

The scenery of the lake with the water drained was quite peculiar.

No one knew exactly about the mysterious phenomenon that had occurred here recently.

There were rumors that a nameless mercenary had seen something, but as always, there were only rumors.

The ruins that were revealed when the water was drained in an instant had a majestic and desolate atmosphere.

And just before dawn, when tourists and travelers had not yet arrived.

In the remains of an old street that had lost its golden name long ago, a man in a black cloak was praying, throwing red flowers.

A prayer that would never be answered, because it was not offered to anyone.

“…”

There were no words. There was no answer.

But he already knew.

That the prayer, which had not been sent to anyone, had already been answered.

Swipe. The man got up and looked at the slowly rising sun, then mounted the large black horse with a simple movement.

The beginning was darkness.

But it wasn’t the end. The man glanced at the gradually brightening sky and then began to ride towards the dawn.

The faint starlight that had not yet faded and the spreading morning sunlight shone brightly on his head.

(FIN)

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