Chapter 3: Inquisitor (1)
The item that the victim used until their last breath and the corpse that clearly didn’t meet an end without regret. And a warlock with a lot of experience.
Perfect conditions.
A crimson stain created by the blood seeping from the corpse and absorbed into the earth of the cemetery. I looked down at the man lying face down in the crimson space that was his last indulgence, and picked up the dagger that had fallen at my feet.
No matter how rural the monastery, I can’t enter a place full of priests with magic.
To make sure I can use my given status, it’s wise not to do anything that would raise unnecessary suspicion.
Therefore, I intended to use up all the magic I absorbed here, right here, right now.
There wasn’t much magic I could extract from a small tomb like this, and I had already used up most of it dealing with that guy just now.
If I could just use one simple spell, I could use up the remaining magic cleanly.
Whew.
I slowly began to form hand seals with both hands, and the spell was activated as the remaining magic in my body was depleted.
Requiem.
This spell, named after the music that comforts the dead and gives them peace, is used for the exact opposite purpose, as if mocking the order that first created the name.
A language not used by humans and magic that responded to the will of the warlock slowly began to gather in my hands.
Then, the demonic energy from the dark dimension slowly floated through the air, drawing an ominous geometric pattern along my hand seals.
I slowly lowered my hands, having drawn all the hand seals necessary to complete the spell in the air.
Pshhh.
The dagger offered as a medium for the ritual corroded and disappeared in an instant. Proof that the ritual to summon the ghost had been successful.
Whew.
A black mass slowly emerged from the corpse that had fallen face down.
An existence that straddled the real world and the dark dimension. It was the ghost of the deceased.
Grrrrrr.
The translucent ghost floated slowly through the air, circling me.
“It’s nice to see you again.”
It wasn’t a spirit strong enough to maintain its ego even after death, so there was no way it would recognize me, but I greeted the evil spirit with a small smile.
The evil spirit that had just slid slowly towards me despite having died by my hand.
Not only was it not the corpse of a powerful knight or magician, but it was also a ghost that was so weak that it could barely be used in battle, having been summoned with only a small amount of magic.
However, I didn’t need a powerful ghost right now, when I had to act as a priest. In fact, it was better to be able to move it around secretly. My orders wouldn’t be that complicated.
“Now, go to the one who ordered your assassination.”
Find the one who gave the first order, or rather, the one who commissioned it. It could take quite a long time, but that didn’t matter.
I needed some time to get stronger anyway. For now, it was enough to leave a small clue about the source of a potential future threat.
Swish.
I watched the ghost’s back as it circled me one last time before disappearing into the dark forest path, and picked up the old lantern lying on the ground.
It reeked of low-quality oil.
It didn’t look much different from the one I had lived with five hundred years ago.
According to the memories of Luciel, who is now mine, the continent is currently in chaos due to the war between the heretics and the Order.
I don’t know the exact cause or the detailed progress, but it’s possible that it’s even worse than it was five hundred years ago when I was alive.
Cheek!
I added the last remaining bit of magic to the dying fire, and an ominous green flame flared up.
And a chaotic world is the best possible environment for a warlock to grow.
The eerie green light flickered, illuminating the dark forest. The shadows of the trees danced as if they were alive, blending the cool, descending moonlight with the ominous, flickering green light.
According to my faint memories, the monastery where this guy originally stayed was located a short distance from this cemetery.
‘Let’s go and see it now.’
I took one last look at the quiet cemetery, then picked up the old lantern flickering with green light and slowly walked towards the monastery.
🔹🔹🔹
Whoosh!
A thick chain imbued with holy energy flew through the air.
It was so heavy that an ordinary adult male would have had trouble even lifting it, with large, sharp spikes attached all over it, but the man holding it showed no signs of strain on his face.
No, rather, he seemed to have a slightly amused expression on his face.
Thwack!
The man skillfully retrieved the chain, which had scattered blood in the air, having thoroughly crushed the people in front of him.
The man, who was riding on a large horse and showing signs of near-death, scratched his chin as he looked at the carnage he had created.
“Hi, hiik!”
One of the survivors of the carnage, who appeared to be an ordinary peasant, was trembling with a half-crazed expression on his face.
The man looked down at the serf, who had lost all courage to resist or escape and was trembling like an aspen tree, and slowly opened his mouth as he pointed to the path he had carved out in front of him.
“Which way do you go from here to get to the nearest village?”
“Spare. . . me. . . . . .”
The man watched the serf, who was too terrified to give a proper answer, for a moment, then flicked his hand, and a small light streamed from his hand.
Whew.
“Agh. . . . . . !”
The bright light seeped into the body of the serf, who had been trembling and half out of his mind, and he came to his senses.
Seeing this, the man asked a second question.
“Which way do you go from here to get to the nearest village?”
“S, Spare my life! I had no choice but to do it to survive! I would never have dared to go against the Order’s will─”
The man looked at the serf, who was desperately making excuses now that he had come to his senses, with cold, sunken eyes, and asked a third time.
“Which way. . . do you go. . . from here. . . to get to the nearest village?”
The serf hurriedly recalled the direction of the road and the names of the nearby villages in his head at the man’s ominous question, and finally replied.
“There’s a village called Kozelburg!”
“Kozelburg?”
“Y, Yes, sir Inquisitor. Please spare my life. . . . . . ! “
The man looked away from the serf and muttered softly.
“I’ve come too far, lost in my zeal for hunting heretics.”
Anton Revecht, an Inquisitor, scratched his rugged jaw.
He seemed to be contemplating for a moment which of the two paths, the one ahead and the one behind, to take.
“Hmm.”
After a brief moment of contemplation, the man seemed to have made up his mind and grabbed the reins with one hand. This was because he recalled the existence of a small monastery located in the village of Kozelburg.
‘That’s where the illegitimate child of the Lumenique family was abandoned, I think.’
The large black horse began to move slowly as the man skillfully handled the reins.
Thud.
Just when it seemed that he would simply pass by the serf, who was still trembling in terror.
Without turning his body towards the front, the man suddenly opened his mouth as if he had just remembered something.
“T, Thank you.”
Thwack!
The chain that flew with his answer cut through the air, and the serf’s head was cleanly severed.
“May you repent your sins and find peace in God’s embrace.”
After a brief prayer for the corpses scattered around, the man paused for a moment, then slowly urged his horse towards the winding path ahead, rather than the straight path he had been on before.
🔹🔹🔹
You might think that the word warlock doesn’t really go with the image of someone who would usually be here, but I thought of myself as a rather positive and cheerful person.
Of course, the many guys who suffered because of me wouldn’t think so.
‘An acolyte priest of the Order of Heretica.’
It wasn’t exactly what I wanted, but it was a much better situation than being reincarnated as a strange monster or in a body that was about to die due to a magical error.
Some pedantic warlocks from the secluded schools that inhabit the Poison Mist Mountain Range in the northeast of the continent would have reacted with something like, ‘As a master of sorcery who has studied black magic all his life, I cannot tolerate a body that has been touched by the filthy hands of a god!’
Of course, I’m not that kind of stubborn and narrow-minded fool, at least in my own opinion.
In these chaotic times, being a priest could actually be a strong background.
“As God says, faith is what will light up this dark age and defeat the evil heretics. . . . . . “
A tedious prayer droned on from the front.
Most of the acolyte priests sitting around me were already nodding off to the boring words of the old priest.
The boy named Luciel, or rather, the one I took the place of, had only been gone for a night, and fortunately there hadn’t been any major problems.
Except for the minor matter of burying the blood- and dirt-stained clothes in the forest and stealing a new priest’s robe.
“Killing heretics is not a sin━”
I had lost all my great power in exchange for being reborn, but I didn’t regret it.
Because I had thrown off the countless shackles that had been weighing me down in exchange for power and had become the master of a body with infinite possibilities.
I would build up my own power, without making any contracts with the disgusting gods or the damn devils.
Slowly. Secretly and surely.
For now, it was important to slowly adapt to my new body.
And to do that, I needed to blend into the background of this boy named Luciel Lumenique perfectly and safely.
Luciel Lumenique.
It wasn’t surprising that this guy, who had died unexpectedly, wasn’t from the streets.
The Ritual of the Dead King’s Return was a great magic that I had spent a long time preparing. The person who would become the new vessel was not randomly chosen, of course.
Outstanding potential that could not be easily found, a young age, and a clean, healthy body.
In addition to that, it had to be a clean death that could be regenerated by magic. It wouldn’t do to be reincarnated into a body that had been beheaded.
Considering that all of these factors had to be met at the same time for the spell to be successfully cast, the five hundred years or so that it took for me to be resurrected wasn’t that long.
It was the sudden death of a bastard son of a noble family far away from here.
‘I see.’
It was probably the intended result of another figure in the family, most likely a sibling.
That meant it wouldn’t be wise to visit the Lumenique family to use their status. Not until I had regained a certain level of power.
Anyway, what was most important to me right now wasn’t a measly noble status.
‘Reclaiming the legacies.’
Arrangements hidden all over the continent.
The legacies I left for myself, prepared in advance for my second coming.
Of course, they weren’t powers that I could take right now. Since I didn’t know what kind of body I would be reincarnated into, I had taken precautions in advance so that other thieves wouldn’t be able to use them carelessly.
It would probably take some time and effort.
In front of me, the old priest continued to recite his absurd doctrines.
“Therefore, it is our duty to God in these chaotic times to eradicate all of these evil and wicked scheming pagans from this land━”
A world that had become more chaotic than before.
And listening to the doctrines of the Order, which had become even more sinister than they were five hundred years ago, I fell into thought.
In order to effectively reclaim my legacy and build up my power anew, I needed to be able to travel freely around the continent. Of course, it would be even more convenient if I had a status that allowed me to maintain a connection to the Order while I did so.
In that case.
I needed a definite situation. A situation that would allow me to leave this small monastery openly, confidently, and firmly, without abandoning my status.
“F, Father! I think you should come out here right now!”
“What is it?”
“I, It’s an Inquisitor. No, a Grand Inquisitor!”
And thankfully, the situation came sooner than I thought.
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