home

search

Chapter 9: You’re No Hero

  “Well, that was disappointing,” Orion scoffed, casually leaning against his massive greatsword.

  Ansel gasped, nearly collapsing to the ground as he barely managed to squeak out a final cast of Raise Undead. “Shut… up…” he panted feebly.

  The boy could work on his mana reserves, not to mention his pathetic body. Orion tilted his head, observing the scene before him. The young necromancer had attempted to resurrect as many of the orcs around him as he could, but only managed to get two archers for all his efforts. Ten other orc corpses remained where they were, and the boy’s skill had failed on the other three.

  “If you need the fear of death to spark you into resurrecting anything stronger than these mutts,” Orion complained, gesturing at the ragtag assembly of orcs staring back at the skeleton, “you will die.”

  Ansel didn’t even reply, finally giving in to the exhaustion and falling onto his back.

  Then, a familiar blue screen appeared, and Orion quickly scanned the words. “Oh, a quest? About time.”

  


  [System Message]

  <>

  Info: You have been given life once more by the mighty Necromancer class. Thank your new master by assisting him in becoming even stronger!

  Objective:

  


      
  • Help your Necromancer reach level 5 (4/5)


  •   


  


      
  • Earn 1 piece of Rare or higher-tier equipment and give it to your Necromancer (0/1)


  •   


  Reward:

  


      
  • 500 Exp


  •   


  


      
  • 1 Skill Token


  •   


  Will all of my quests be tied to this pathetic brat? What a bore. Orion turned away from the screen, not caring much for its objectives. After all, it wasn’t like he needed to complete quests to become strong. Back when he was still alive, he mostly ignored his quests and elected to earn his strength through brute force, only completing quests that he would’ve done anyway or were easy enough and gave a decent reward. “Although I haven’t had to complete a quest for hundreds of years,” he contemplated out loud.

  “You got a quest?” Ansel asked, still recovering from the exertion that using his skill had taken on him. “I… I didn’t realize you could even get them. Will he get them, too? Or any of them, for that matter,” he continued, gesturing at his small group of orc companions. “And, how come you're the only one who can talk?” He finished, eyes narrowing suspiciously.

  “Could those primitive creatures speak before being resurrected?"

  “Kortak could,” Ansel argued. “Did the first necromancer… Eltariel, did he ever resurrect any undead who could speak?”

  Orion paused for a moment. Although the memory was still blurry, it was there all the same. “Yes.”

  Ansel didn’t respond, simply staring back.

  “But only one. It was one of Tarmak’s generals. His name was… Durok? Dur-Durian? I’m unsure.” Orion paused, gathering himself. “Eltariel quickly disposed of him, however, as his constant chattering grew tiresome after a few days.”

  “I see…” Ansel responded after a moment, narrowing his eyes ever so slightly.

  Orion, growing tired of the dull conversation, turned to survey his new surroundings. The world was bright, the sun shining high above and without a cloud in sight. If he were still human, he might’ve looked away, but the sun had no effect on him now. He turned, noticing that the tomb was partially buried, with only its unassuming black gateway in view from the surface.

  In every direction were fields of rolling hills and bright grass flitting in the wind. Flowers dotted the landscape, but Orion couldn’t even take in their scent. In the distance, the Death Knight spotted two villages, positioned a few miles across from each other, separated by a small river. One seemed strictly residential, and Orion could just barely make out the figures of people milling about. The other town seemed a bit more fortified, with a wooden wall surrounding its borders.

  “Your hometown, I presume?” Orion questioned, pointing his sword at the unassuming village on the left.

  Ansel nodded, “It’s not much…” he started sheepishly.

  Orion shrugged. “The town I was once born in was not much better.”

  The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

  “Really?” The boy questioned, lifting his head from the ground ever so slightly before letting it fall with a thump.

  “Hmph,” Orion grunted. “I assume adventuring guilds still exist?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Does that town contain one?” Orion nodded towards the second village in the distance.

  Ansel nodded slightly.

  “Take me.”

  “Manners?” Ansel questioned with a slight smile.

  “Hmph,” Orion grunted, beginning to walk on his own.

  “Wait!”

  The Death Knight stopped.

  “I–I can’t walk right now.”

  Ansel’s body was on fire.

  Or atleast, it definitely felt like it.

  “Can you at least put me on your back or something? This is… embarrassing,” Ansel muttered sheepishly. The former Hero of Light had unceremoniously scooped his small master with one arm, carrying him atop his right shoulder like a rather large and unruly sack of flour for the last hour or so. Although it was uncertain whether or not Ansel even outweighed a bag of flour.

  “You’re lucky I didn’t leave you to rot, boy.”

  “Guess so,” Ansel replied sadly. Then his eyes widened as he realized where they were headed. “Hold on, you’re not just gonna waltz into the town like this, are you?”

  “And what would be the issue with that?”

  “You–you look like a monster! The guards will probably attack us on sight!”

  “Have you forgotten what class your pathetic self has obtained?”

  Ansel bit back the urge to scream. “But everyone knows that I’m useless! If we just walk in there with you and,” he paused, gesturing towards the Orc Champion and the pair of Orc archers following closely behind them, “it’s gonna cause a–”

  “Quit your incessant chatter, boy. It irritates me.” Orion replied dismissively.

  “Put me down!” Ansel yelped, and Orion promptly dropped the boy to the floor.

  The necromancer popped up without missing a beat, dusting himself off as he did, but still wincing in pain. I shouldn’t exert myself so hard next time… “You were the one who told me to ‘exert my control on the dead’ and all that, so listen!” Ansel moved in front of his towering summon, staring daggers.

  “Then what do you suggest?”

  Ansel reeled a bit, not expecting Orion to listen at all, but he recovered quickly. “Well, for starters, everyone’s going to freak out if they hear you talking, so don't talk in front of others.”

  “Hmph,” Orion scoffed. “What does it matter if the people are afraid?”

  “Don’t you want to stop Tarmak?! If he’s out there, and word gets out about me and my talking skeleton, he’s gonna be able to find us easily!”

  There was a moment of silence. Then, Orion let loose a thunderous laugh. “You think I care what that demon does?”

  “You–you don’t?” Ansel replied dumbly. Then why was he giving me such a hard time about resurrecting the guy in the first place?!

  “Not in the slightest.”

  The boy narrowed his eyes, then crossed his arms. “Some hero you are.”

  “That won’t work on me a second time, boy.”

  “I don’t expect it to. It’s not like you have any sense of honor after all.” Ansel shrugged dismissively.

  “Oh?” Orion questioned with a lilt of humour. “How do you figure?”

  “You fail to kill what you say is the greatest threat to this world, but when the time comes to do something about it, you just run and hide…”

  “Hide?”

  “Worse,” Ansel paused. “You aren’t even hiding. You just don’t care.”

  “Correct.”

  “Were you bullied as a child?” Ansel mocked. “Did someone hurt your feelings? All you care about is yourself, is that it?”

  Orion stepped forward dangerously, grabbing the hilt of his massive greatsword.

  And he swung.

  The blade came mere inches away from the boy’s face, and if it were not for the necromancer magic that halted the weapon, Ansel would’ve died.

  But the boy didn’t even blink, staring determinedly at the skeleton before him.

  “You grow boisterous under the protection of this magic,” Orion growled menacingly, slowly lowering his blade.

  Ansel bit back a gulp, but he didn’t let the fear get to him. Of course, the boy knew that Orion wasn’t able to hurt him, at least, not seriously, thanks to his status as Orion’s summoner.

  But all Ansel felt was rage.

  “I acknowledge that I played a part in this. It was a mistake to walk into that dungeon and follow the commands of some creepy voice–”

  “I’ll say.”

  “But I’m gonna do something. That’s much more than you could say.”

  Orion snorted. “And what exactly are you going to do?”

  “My father always wanted to become an adventurer. But not just because he thought it would be fun. He didn’t want me to follow in his footsteps for the fun of it.”

  “Spare me the details,” Orion waved a hand.

  But Ansel continued. “He wanted me to be a hero. He wanted me to make a difference in this world.”

  The Death Knight stayed silent.

  “I’m sure when you were still alive, everyone called you a hero. They probably cheered at the sight of you.”

  “You’re not wrong.”

  “But you’re no hero,” Ansel stated, meeting Orion’s eyes with a fiery passion. “You asked what I’m going to do?”

  Orion scoffed once more, but Ansel could see a flicker of interest in the skeleton's glowing blue eye sockets.

  “I’m going to show you what a hero really looks like.”

  Patreon

Recommended Popular Novels