Chapter 96.2: Spring of Salvation (4)
The enemy of my enemy is my friend.
However, does that make the enemy an ally for eternity?
‘That can’t be true.’
Cain’s eyes narrowed.
Worrall’s words were clearly well-intentioned advice, but whether to accept them was another matter.
‘Besides, they’re undead.’
One of the reasons why the Holy See built temples in each region was because of the undead.
With the rapid emergence of the Great Wall after the fall of the East, the human world in the West was able to block the wave of destruction.
However, it couldn’t be completely blocked, and it changed the way of life in the world. On a large scale, there was the rise of the Holy See, and on a smaller scale, there was a change in funeral practices.
In the past, bodies were placed in coffins and buried, and then tombs were erected.
However, after the fall of the East, there were frequent cases of people waking up again as undead with a low probability.
What was once only possible through the evil magic of wizards now happened naturally.
The temples expanded their influence by purifying such undead with holy power, and with burial after cremation, the appearance of undead almost disappeared.
‘These guys aren’t the kind that black wizards created either.’
Cain looked at Stationmaster Worrall and the other railway workers who appeared to be undead.
Naturally occurring undead retain the memories and emotions of their lifetime.
So, their hostility towards Marquis Heatherward Ross must be real, but this too could be a trap set by Marquis Ross.
Worrall read Cain’s hesitation in answering.
“You doubt.”
It was only a single word, but Cain could tell that he was not a simple stationmaster in his previous life.
He responded with a wry smile.
“If Marquis Ross has the power to control people, it would be even easier to control undead.”
“Our animosity is real.”
“But Marquis Ross is the kind of person who would use even that animosity.”
Stationmaster Worrall laughed.
Unlike the other three, he liked the deep experience he felt from Cain.
“Indeed, you are worthy of being Heatherward’s adversary.”
“So, am I right?”
Cain bluntly asked if they were being used.
Worrall readily nodded.
“To be more precise, it’s because the curse of the ‘Ross bloodline’ continues even after death.”
At the mention of Ross’ blood, Oleciren’s eyebrows twitched. She was the only living person here who inherited the blood of Ross.
Worrall’s eyes moved slightly, scanning Oleciren.
“You don’t look alike, yet you resemble her. Are you Everwyn’s daughter?”
“Do you know my mother?”
“Quite. Very much so.”
Regret and agony.
The weight that only the living could bear permeated Worrall’s words, and at that moment, he seemed more alive than anyone else.
Before Oleciren could ask anything else, he continued.
“From Everwyn’s and our deaths to the Elveknights, everything is intertwined with the secret of the Ross bloodline. Are you curious?”
Thump, thump.
Cain lightly tapped the handle of Agweska, pondering for a moment.
‘There’s no time.’
The Northern Expeditionary Force was already prepared, and both Princess Olivia and McLoud, along with Marquis Ross, headed north.
In a war where they were joining hands with the elves and turning a blind eye, time was of the essence.
Now that ‘Headbreaker’ was in Oleciren’s hands, all they could do was finish the expedition as quickly as possible before she arrived.
In other words, every minute and second was crucial for both sides.
Would it be worth listening to the words of Ross’s ghost at a time like this?
Even if there was a trap, wouldn’t it be better to just cut through it rather than be delayed?
Swoosh—
Cain felt someone tugging at his sleeve.
The culprit was Oleciren.
She stepped forward and spoke.
“I’m curious. But we don’t have time to listen to it all at once.”
“……?”
“Why don’t you tell us why we’ll die if we go this way while we’re on the move?”
Woo woo woo—
Simultaneously with Oleciren’s words, a subtle wave arose. However, only Cain and Worrall sensed it.
When Cain looked at Worrall, he smiled in surprise and raised his hand.
“Hoo.”
He looked like a puppet raising his arm as if pulled by a string.
As the railway workers turned back at the signal without a word, he spoke again.
“Despite having the royal blood, you have surprisingly decent control. You won’t be controlled by Marquis Ross like us.”
“Controlled……?”
Worrall began to walk with the same neat steps as before.
“Those with the Ross bloodline cannot disobey the orders of those with thicker blood. It seems the same applies even after waking up as an undead.”
“Then, is Marquis Ross the one with the thickest blood in the current generation?”
“Yes. To be precise, Everwyn as well.”
Cain, who had been listening, suddenly asked.
“Now that you mentioned a trap, it’s possible that you’re trying to delay us according to Marquis Ross’s will.”
Worrall didn’t look back.
However, there was sadness and pain evident in his back alone. Worrall, who had been shaking for a moment, replied.
“Marquis Ross’s control weakened when he left. I’m only speaking during this gap.”
“How can I believe that?”
Whizz—
He turned his head to meet Cain’s gaze. His eyes, which seemed to be burning at any moment, were filled with rage.
“If you don’t believe me, then just go and die.”
Cain smirked as if he had seen what he wanted to see.
“Speak, undead.”
The most honest emotions are the most base ones. Only after facing that side could Cain believe Worrall’s sincerity.
Worrall looked at Cain with an absurd expression and then pointed upwards with his index finger.
“All of the Elveknights have boarded a different train and headed north.”
Click—
His finger pointed north.
“Meaning, 81 monsters are waiting to kill you.”
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