Chapter 2
***
After Nephtys left, Simon had to endure the busiest week of his life.
Even his usually laid-back father, Richard, acted as if possessed.
His piercing gaze and sharp demeanor made it impossible for Simon to whine like a child and ask, "Do I really have to go to Kizen?"
Richard cast a spell on Simon's body.
He called it creating a "Core," but Simon didn't understand anything other than the excruciating pain.
After three days and nights of relentless work establishing the Core, Simon boarded a carriage with Richard.
It was an incredibly large and luxurious carriage, unsuitable for their territory's modest circumstances.
Simon gaped at the unfamiliar comfort of the cushions.
"Be safe, Simon."
Anna, who had somehow managed to load the carriage with two weeks' worth of packed lunches, waved tearfully.
"If you ever feel like you can't take it anymore, come back to Leshill anytime."
Richard, a notorious wife-lover, scolded her, asking what kind of thing that was to say to a child taking his first steps into the world.
Simon, who had never seen his parents argue in his life, realized that his everyday life was truly beginning to change.
"Then, we shall depart."
The coachman pulled the reins, and the carriage wheels began to roll.
Thus began the adventure of Simon, who had lived his entire life in Leshill.
Of course, it was far from a relaxing carriage ride.
Inside, Richard gave Simon a crash course in dark magic.
"Try breathing."
The instruction to breathe meant using the "breathing technique" Richard had taught him.
Simon inhaled deeply, drawing the magical power from the atmosphere into his body.
It wasn't difficult, as he had practiced countless times.
"Now, slowly move your internal mana and pass it through your Core."
Richard assisted, placing his hand on Simon's chest.
Simon carefully channeled the river-like flow of mana through the Core below his heart.
Something was different.
The previously formless mana felt more viscous and solid.
"Now, guide the mana to flow through your arm. Yes, just like that, release it out of your hand."
With the sensation of blocked veins bursting open,
Black liquid, like beads of sweat, appeared on Simon's palm.
As Simon blinked, looking down at his palm, Richard smiled warmly.
"Well done, Simon. This is 'Jet Black,' the source of a necromancer's power."
According to Richard, there was a time when knights and wizards ruled the continent.
Of course, they were now overshadowed by the necromancers, who had become the dominant force.
Knights couldn't overcome the necromancers' sheer numbers, and wizards were outmatched in casting speed and destructive power.
"The biggest difference between a wizard and a necromancer is the presence of 'Jet Black.'"
Richard extended his left hand.
Blue mana billowed like heat haze above his palm.
"Mana has the properties of a gas. Its low density makes it difficult to bind, and it tends to disperse into the atmosphere."
This time, he extended his right hand.
A viscous black liquid welled up like a spring and flowed down his palm.
"On the other hand, 'Jet Black' has properties closer to a solid or liquid. Composed of dense magical power, it's easy to bind and freely change its shape."
The viscous black liquid flowing down his palm suddenly surged upwards.
It coalesced in mid-air, transforming into a flower, a wave, a snake flicking its tongue, and even a rotating windmill.
"Wow...!"
As Simon gasped at the sudden, dazzling display, the Jet Black reshaped itself into a "magic circle."
From the black magic circle, constructed with numerous runes, a red light leaked out, as if a bomb were exploding.
A chilling sensation ran through him, making his hair stand on end.
Something, something amazing was about to...!
Crack!
Richard clenched his fist, and the magic circle shattered.
The falling ashes gradually disappeared.
"Those who wield power based on this Jet Black are called necromancers."
Simon nodded, mesmerized.
"There's not much time, so I can't teach you everything. Let's focus on practicing the basics of extracting 'Jet Black' from your Core for the remaining time."
"Yes, Father!"
Practicing generating Jet Black was more fun than he expected.
At first, it was just a drop forming on his palm, but over time, the size grew, and the shape changed.
With such visible progress, Simon became engrossed in his practice, losing track of time.
Richard, pleased with his son's rapid progress, guided him carefully, ensuring he didn't become impatient.
'...Monstrous progress.'
Richard didn't show it, but he was inwardly astonished.
From simple emission to shape-shifting in just three days.
This was truly abnormal.
Considering that it took an average person anywhere from six months to two years to achieve shape-shifting, it wouldn't be an exaggeration to say Simon was born for Jet Black.
Even as his own father, he felt chills run down his spine while teaching him.
In truth, Richard was already aware of Simon's talent.
He had merely been waiting for the right time to create the "Core."
Exploding talent in a time when one's ego and emotions are not fully formed is poison.
Richard, more than anyone, regretted his tyrannical childhood, and he didn't want to pass on that mistake to his son.
But now, finally, the time had come for Simon's talent to blossom.
The entire continent would be astonished by this child's emergence.
The mere thought of it sent shivers down Richard's spine, making it difficult for him to sit still.
"Father! Look!"
Simon raised his palm, where Jet Black flickered like a flame.
Richard observed it with a serious expression.
"Dark blue. A beautiful Jet Black with a hint of blue."
"I-Is that good? Am I a rare case? Am I talented?"
"It's just cool, that's all."
"...."
Simon, with a dejected expression, resumed his practice.
Richard turned his head, barely managing to suppress his rising grin.
'Managing my expressions isn't easy either.'
Time flew by quickly.
From Simon's perspective, a week passed without him even realizing it.
And then.
"This is as far as I can go with you, Simon."
Richard's sudden announcement made Simon's heart sink.
"I thought you were taking me all the way to Kizen."
"I'm sorry, but your father has reasons for not being able to set foot in the Dresden Kingdom. From here on out, you have to make all the decisions and move forward on your own."
A sudden, intense pressure weighed down on him, making him gulp.
Having lived in Leshill for 17 years, it would be a lie to say he wasn't afraid of this change.
Then, Richard tightly grasped Simon's hand.
"I guarantee you, son. You'll do better than anyone. And,"
Richard smiled warmly.
"I'm truly proud of you."
Hearing his father's approval for the first time, Simon felt a lump form in his throat.
"I'll be back, Father."
After parting ways with Richard, Simon was left alone in the spacious carriage.
He didn't waste the remaining time and focused on honing his Jet Black.
Another week passed.
"Wow...!"
He arrived in 'Langerstein,' the capital of the Dresden Kingdom.
Simon's first impression of the metropolis was simply overwhelming.
The uniformly tall and massive buildings, the carriages crisscrossing the roads in a frenzy, and the teeming crowds.
The sights he was seeing for the first time made his head spin.
"Make way! Make way!"
Simon was startled and stepped back.
A massive carriage, over five meters wide, was speeding down the steep slope.
Pulling the carriage was a horse whose body was entirely made of bare bones.
'Undead!'
Undead were openly roaming the streets in broad daylight.
From simple labor like pulling carriages or rickshaws to handing out flyers in the square.
It was a sight only possible in an era where necromancers were the dominant force.
'Stay sharp.'
Simon lightly slapped his cheeks and unfolded a crumpled note from his pocket.
<239 Campbell Road, Langerstein SL1E 6AJ.>
'So, I'm supposed to go to this address?'
Simon steeled his resolve.
Whether it was Langerstein or Leshill, it was all just a place where people lived.
If he went to this address and met the guide who would lead him to Kizen, everything would be resolved.
But just looking at this information gave him no sense of direction.
Eventually, Simon spoke to a blonde woman with her back turned.
"E-Excuse me, may I ask you something, ma'am?"
The moment the woman turned around, Simon was horrified.
One of her eyes was bulging out, dangling precariously.
"What is it, child?"
"...."
Don't be surprised. Don't be surprised.
Simon desperately calmed his racing heart and forced a smile.
"I'd like to go to this address...."
"An address? Let me see."
Simon broke out in a cold sweat as the dangling eyeball stretched out and scanned the paper.
Fortunately, he bit his lip hard enough to prevent any sound from escaping.
"Ah, Campbell Road? It's a famous spot in Langerstein. Go around that square up there, turn right, and you'll see an alley paved with golden tiles."
"Ah...! Thank you so much!"
Simon bowed deeply.
The woman unfolded a fan in her hand, covering her mouth as she giggled.
"Such a polite child, a rarity these days. I wish you luck in Langerstein."
It seemed like things were going well!
After thanking her once more, Simon strode energetically towards the square the woman had indicated.
'....'
And a moment later,
A man who had been quietly observing the whole scene approached the woman and spoke to her, just as Simon had.
***
'Finally, I've reached Campbell Road.'
What was it with this city's confusing layout?
After 20 minutes of wandering, Simon finally made it to Campbell Road.
Just as the woman had said, the tiles on the ground were painted gold.
'239, 239....'
He walked along, checking the addresses on each building against the note in his hand, when...
"Excuse me."
Someone suddenly appeared and addressed him.
It was a bald man with beads of sweat on his forehead. He took out a handkerchief, wiped his forehead, and spoke politely.
"Are you, by any chance, heading to 239 Campbell Road, specifically SL1E 6AJ?"
Simon's eyes widened.
How did he know the detailed address?
"Ah! Are you perhaps the guide sent by Mr. Howl...!"
The man nodded.
"Yes, I am Mr. Howl's guide! You hadn't arrived after some time, so I was searching for you in case you got lost."
Relieved, Simon replied.
"I'm so glad we finally met. My name is Simon Polentia."
"I'm Rowley, your Langerstein guide. Now, come this way. You must be tired from your journey, so I'll show you to your accommodations first."
Simon nodded and followed him.
"It's about a 15-minute walk. I'll take you through the shortcut as quickly as possible."
"Okay!"
Leaving Campbell Road, they walked through winding alleyways, and Simon looked around curiously.
Houses everywhere he looked.
They were so densely packed that there was almost no wasted space.
The number of people in this city alone seemed several times greater than the entire population of Leshill territory.
"I was really worried, sir. It's dangerous for outsiders to wander around Langerstein alone without a guide."
Rowley rambled on.
"As they say, you could get robbed blind. The city is swarming with people trying to take advantage of naive travelers. Pickpockets, robbers, unscrupulous merchants overcharging... Once we get to your accommodations, I'll teach you a few phrases in the Langerstein dialect. It's a temporary measure, but it's better than not knowing anything at all."
"Aha,"
Simon grinned.
"So, you're trying to rob me blind too."
"...!!"
Rowley stopped abruptly.
"S-Sir? What do you mean by...."
"Your gaze keeps unintentionally drifting downwards."
Simon said, pointing his index finger.
"You directly fumbled with your lower vest pocket once, checking if something was there, right? Judging by the pocket's width and wrinkles, it seems like you have something like a knife in there."
"...."
Rowley turned to Simon, sweating.
"That's... Yes, that's right."
Click.
He readily admitted it, revealing the handle of a knife in his lower vest pocket.
"Didn't I tell you? Langerstein is a dangerous place. In a narrow alley like this, you never know who you might run into...."
"And to top it off, that Mr. Howl I mentioned earlier, I actually made him up."
Simon chuckled, putting his arm behind his head.
"You immediately bought it when I said I was looking for Mr. Howl's guide. Johnson back in Leshill has a prized goat named Howl. Are you running errands for a goat, by any chance?"
"...."
Rowley's friendly smile hardened.
"S-So you knew and followed me anyway? Just who the hell are you?!"
***
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