Roots

-XXX-

There were two days of preparation given to gather supplies and materials needed for the expedition to the destroyed town, Teh Etherian. The information in the report highlighted the town was in ruins and overran with various types of undead creatures roughly five to six days ago.

Momon decided this expedition would be a good chance to showcase. With the sheer amount of people participating as potential witnesses, no one would be able to doubt his abilities.

The faster he ascended the adventurer ranks and the more fame he amassed, the more favourable the quests he could net.

Perhaps, he thought. Perhaps, if my friends were in this world too, they may even hear and recognise my name.

However – this could all just be a far-fetched dream, as the messages he sent out has had no response.

The task seemed straightforward enough, as undead creatures were brainless and uncoordinated without a master. From the reports, the horde did not seem to follow a distinct pattern. On the other hand, this was not an indication to rule out the presence of a mastermind behind it all.

The surface could be very different to what lurked beneath – As a necromancer, a guild leader, and a skilled PK-er, Momonga knew this far too well. There were too many ifs, ands, and buts to make a solid conclusion. So, last night, he decided to summon a few wraiths to scout the situation.

He teleported to a nearby cemetery in his caster attire because he simply thought it suited the atmosphere.

There were no whole buried bodies, as the people of Teh Erebus ceremonially cremated the dead. The ashes were buried in a luxurious preservation jar.

It costs a fortune to afford this kind of burial. It costs a further fortune to maintain, as priests would come, clean, and bless the graves. The showy business was redundant but it was a show of face for the wealthy.

What kind of wraiths do I want?

Momonga could summon three kinds of level 30 wraiths: Shadows, Prophet of Deaths, and Phantom Assassins. Although all three types had poor attack strength, low defence, and minimal health points, the wraiths were by no means neglectable during a dynamic battle.

Shadows, as the name implied, looked like a moving shadow. They specialised in gathering information. In PvP battles, important AOE skills were often used to get rid of Shadows to prevent opponents gaining vital information.

Prophet of Deaths were ghostly visages holding onto grimoires. They placed nasty curses onto unsuspecting targets. The curses slowly grinded and wore the targets out. Hence, the name was given.

Phantom Assassins, on the other hand, were a joke by the developers. If one were to think of sexy female spies, Phantom Assassins would fit the image perfectly. They basically had lesser versions of Shadows' information gathering skills and fought close to a level 25 thief.

The high-level invisibility that all wraiths had were often a pain to deal with.

I can't believe this is the day where Phantom Assassins are actually needed.

Phantom Assassins did not fit any good strategies in the past, as they did not particularly excel in any field. However, right now, they were chosen for scouting purposes, as well as to estimate the level of this world's residents should combat become necessary.

To his surprise, the seven tombs were cracked and the jars were emptied upon summoning seven wraiths. Even more surprisingly, these wraiths have not terminated mental link with him, which meant they have not timed out or been destroyed, yet.

It seemed that there could be quite the disparity when using spells in this world and Yggdrasil.

I wanted to experiment more… if only I didn't have to escape from the scene of the crime. I hope I have not left any evidence behind.

"Hey, Momon. Are we are leaving after today?"

Keeno yawned – It was still early in the morning.

Momon nodded to answer Keeno's question as he gazed at some adventures loading the carts outside the town's stone gates.

"Keeno…"

"Hm…?"

"Do you want to cancel training today? Since we are leaving tomorrow, would you like to relax for the day?"

Keeno's sudden burst of energy with a "Would I ever!?" made his non-existent heart skip a beat.

Uwah… If you have this much vitality, maybe we shouldn't have skipped.

In a small area outside town, he had been training Keeno to utilise her spells effectively to fight real combat by aiming spells at him.

Keeno was reluctant at first to aim spells at a person, but she realised there was no way she would hit him after the first few tries. She had very poor accuracy on moving targets and was poorer at casting them on the move. However, this was expected, as she had only practised while being stationary.

Momon felt nostalgic while training Keeno.

It reminded him of when he first hit level 8 in Yggdrasil – The so-called "Tutorial Stage" was over. The scope of both PvE and PvP rapidly expanded, becoming increasingly complex.

"So… where do you want to go?"

He was never the first one to insist any suggestions even in his days as a guild leader.

"Umm… How about we go trade in the stuff in the pouch… so we can pay back the money from the aunty?"

A voice exclaimed "Aunty!?" from behind, which made Keeno flinch with an "Eek!"

Momon's fake heart did not take it too well either.

Both of them turned around.

Speak of the devil…

"Look here twerp! I'm not an aunt, yet, okay?"

Keeno gave a small nod.

"I said, okay!?" repeated the woman in a familiar eye patch.

Keeno nodded harder.

"Miss Sigurd, nice to see you," greeted Momon. He did not think it was strange to see her here as she was one of the coordinators for the expedition.

"Ah… yes. You are probably trading it to the pharmacist. I'll take you to them."

"You really don't have to."

Momon humbly tried to refuse Sigurd.

Am… am I being suspected…? What kind of excuse should I use if she finds out? thought Momon. I wasn't in my magic armour... so I don't think I left footprints that are traceable.

"Yea, yea. Sure, sure," said Sigurd, as she forcefully snatched the pouch from Keeno and fluffed around in it. "But, do you know how much these items are worth? For example… this pendant."

Sigurd showed him the small pendant.

"I, I don't."

"Well, since the chain on it is gone, it might be worth…"

"Wah! That's mine!" yelled Keeno, as she snatched it away. "Muu… It's something grandpa left me. You just can't go pawning it."

In the end, Sigurd accompanied them and explained to them the price of each.

He thought the paladin wanted her money back, but she disappeared during the heat of trade with the pharmacist.

It was high noon.

Suvia calmly approached Sigurd standing in the shadows of the courtyard tree.

"What's the meaning of this, Sigurd? We are busy preparing things and here you are…"

"Oh~! Madam Captain, care to guess?"

Suvia was not particularly fond of playing guessing games with her, so she followed Sigurd's eyes to the answer.

There was a cheering crowd in the middle of the courtyard.

Two people were circled by the crowd – A person in luxurious jet-black armour and a person in lightweight armour.

Suvia recognised the insignia on the lightweight armour's pauldron – It was an insignia indicating that he was a magic swordsman.

"I think his name was…," Suvia ran through her memory bank before finding, "Mark Volvo…"

"Yep," confirm Sigurd. "One of your hard-core idiot followers."

Mark Volvo, a young man who had managed to obtain the prestigious title Magic Swordsman in his mid-twenties. It was an outstanding achievement to be able to use magic and, somewhat, studied in the ways of the sword at the age.

He only knew only one spell, [Spark]. The currents dazzled the enemies' eyes and added paralysis effect to the blade. His equipment suggested that he uses speed to gain an advantage.

If it was not for his flirtatious side and cringe-worthy acting, his naturally good looks would be popular among the ladies.

Suvia frowned.

"One of your little setup games, again?"

"Bingo~ If the one in dark armour wins, it's double payday for me."

Suvia wanted to rebut this comment from Sigurd.

Suvia wanted to but did not.

Sigurd often had to take on the role of the Evil Queen in brewing up plans. As much as Suvia hated Sigurd's cunning side, she also admired it.

Sigurd shared a similar respect for Suvia's decisions. In fact, nobody questioned Suvia, knowing that she would always consider every route and best route possible.

Folding her arms, Sigurd leant against the tree in boredom, hoping the fight would start soon.

Suvia took a breath and turned her sight towards the two at the centre of the crowd.

"And, if the idiot wins?"

Sigurd put a finger on her lips.

"I may have promised him a potential meeting from his beloved captain… to his room tonight. You don't like blond hair and blue eyes with a bit of a wild?"

"You…"

"Just watch the show. Besides…," Sigurd's voice petered. "It's to confirm my suspicion… you feel it too, don't you?"

Suvia nodded in response.

The story told by the man in jet-black armour, Momon, was common. It was common but there were major dubious coincidences and inconsistencies.

Sigurd continued.

"Adventuring is normally a profession for people low in education and poor birth… but seeing how that man is able to calculate high values so easily… I don't think that is the case."

"How did you assess him?"

"Well, we had a nice little date to the pharmacy. He did not let the pharmacist slip a single coin past him with an eloquent tongue."

"…"

It was a well-known fact that the pharmacist of this town was very sly and underpaid for goods. However, for a fight to not break out when realising he was being ripped off was extremely rare for an uneducated adventurer.

"More importantly… the destroyed town, the request of the Marquis, the little girl, the appearance of that man… and the pressure he gives off time-to-time…," Sigurd cut her own talk short, "Looks like they are starting…"

Brawls between adventurers were not uncommon. Most of the time, it was just easier to let them solve their differences by fighting it out, provided that no one dies.

People expected Suvia or Sigurd to step in if things got nasty. Therefore, no one thought it was strange for them to be spectating from a distance.

Almost no one thought it was strange.

Oi! Why are you two just standing there and watching!? thought Momon. That damned pharmacist, too! You should be arresting him!

Satoru Suzuki had enough similar encounters in his life. Although it was all too easy for him to receive the correct payment, it left him very salty from digging up old and unwanted memories.

To top it all off, the person in front of him randomly challenged him to a duel out of nowhere to prove his love for someone or something.

The people around were no better at alleviating the situation either. No. Quite the opposite – The crowd was thirsty for a show.

Momon felt like he was a victim here of someone's game.

The tension was at an all-time high since the request for an expedition crew. The information revealed to everyone was truly unnerving. For all they knew, they could be dealing with a catastrophe that would soon rain across the land, similar to the legends of the Eight Greed Kings.

What kind of power and evil was involved in turning a town of 3000 into undead?

A common belief was that undead would spawn more powerful undead. To prevent the spawn of more undead, the mission was to destroy as many undead as possible and as soon as possible. This was a crucial task, as undead were known to follow the scent of the living. It would be disastrous if the undead swarmed to this town en masses, guided by the smell in the winds.

It was a simple containment mission – That said, most of the gathered adventurers wanted to turn away. However, they were not going to drop their pride and be outdone by newbies if it turned out to be an easy mission.

The eagerness for a sparring match was probably a way to relieve the stress – or maybe a welcoming ceremony?

Momon was originally quite worried about Keeno as she had a traumatic experience in town but – "Oi! Why are you so sparkly eyed!" he wanted to shout – he was now worried about leading her down the wrong track.

It was Keeno's first time experiencing this kind of atmosphere.

Upon noticing him looking in her direction, Keeno gave a wave and a smile from above some crates a far.

"Aim for his face! Give it to 'em good!" shouted one of the rude adventurers from yesterday. "I hate rich boys but I hate 'em pretty boys more!"

He must be really displeased how good looking the magic swordsman looked.

Momon took a closer look at the – dazzling blue eyes, nice teeth, perfect chin – great overall facial features.

For the record, Momon did not swing that way and did not take joy in the idea of beating up people to increase fame.

Momon held out his arms as if saying "Come at me!"

"Uwaa… what a bold stance," one spectator commented.

"I will kill you for looking down on me! Wild…"

The magic swordsman made a small cut on his index finger and ran it across the sleek blade of the short double-edged sword.

Blood symbols – that did not fit any of Momonga's memories from Yggdrasil – appeared. The patterns were as beautiful as rumours said.

"He's going to use his trump card right at the beginning?" gasped someone in the crowd.

"The idiot is serious?" added another.

"… Magic [Sparks]. Behold the pride of my family for four generations… Prepare yourself!"

Fast – very fast in the eyes of the spectators. The gap closed between the two in a near instant.

It's over, but not in the way the audience expected.

"N-no way… at that speed…"

"H-he caught his arm with one hand? So easily…?"

The electric blade had merely begun its arc before a gauntlet seized its holder by the wrist in mid-flight.

The man in jet-black armour mumbled.

"Interesting magic… But, long preparatory time and obvious stances… Maybe it's because the user is unskilled… I want to know more… Maybe next time…"

"Wah…? What are you mumbling about?"

The other black gauntlet formed a fist.

"Clench your teeth… I'm going in dry… to a restaurant with Keeno later. I don't want to clean my armour."

Stiff and hard – The grip was impossible to break free.

The black armoured man seemed more than twice the size he was at the beginning.

A visage of death – about to cause bodily destruction – appeared in front of the young swordsman.

"Eep! Please be gentle… Not the face!"

Momon took a brief glance at Keeno, who was caught up in the action and was throwing cute punches. Her expression was in a ":3" shape while conveying the message.

Cruel! Children are so cruel! This is definitely not the right way to raise them! thought Momon. So, he gave a swift chop to the back of the neck to knock the swordsman out with the least pain possible.

The bundle of meat fell to the ground.

If god was merciful, he would remain unconscious until someone was kind enough to share him a recovery potion. That someone, though, was definitely not Momon.

Dusting his hands clean, Momon turned his back and started walking away. The crowd parted like the red sea.

Keeno jumped down from the crates to join him.

"It was a close match," he lied. "If the electric sword just grazed my armour, I would've lost."

The swordsman was slow, even in comparison to Keeno's running speed.

"No way…"

"This is what I meant when I said you should always get some information on your opponents…"

He was rambling from his own experience.

Keeno whined, "Eh…? Can't I just hit them and run if they are too strong?"

"No! You must never be like that muscle-head teacher!" he blurted out.

"Muscle… head… teacher…?" repeated Keeno with her face full of confusion as she looked at Momon. If you looked carefully, you could almost see a "?" coming out of her head.

To quickly change the topic, he asked, "What if you can't run away?"

"You'll save me… won't you?" she replied with a worried look.

Momon gave up and sighed a "Yes."

"By the way… who's this teacher?"

"Hmm… She was a teacher who often forgot important details on her endeavours… so we often had to go and save her from trouble. It's a tale from a long, long ago… I'll tell you about it over lunch."

-XXX-

The look of demise was on Marquis Ian Vermillion Fasris' face, as he took a tumble backwards into the wall and sagged to the ground.

Although the office was dim with the evening sun coming through the window, Ian saw his assaulter well.

"Ma, Mar… Maria… Why? Did you not pledge yourself to serve our family?"

A cough of blood – though insignificant when compared to the fruit knife in his stomach – followed shortly.

Perhaps, he may have enough strength to talk and remain conscious for another 10 minutes. From the rate of blood loss, it would probably take half an hour for him to die.

Maria trembled in tears and horror at what she had done.

"Please understand… I, I, I… cannot bear to see you lead everything you built to ruins. This family… your own brothers… now... even your own daughter..."

Ian grunted in pain.

She kneeled down beside him and uttered, "Reinheart" in sorrow.

Ian weakly shifted his gaze to meet Maria's. The dull green eyes – that was about to be robbed of life – sent shivers down Maria's spine.

"T-that nickname name… you gave me," he swallowed his own blood before continuing softly, "… I've abandoned long ago."

Maria nodded. No words were needed.

She knew – she knew it far too well.

However – hearing those words still made her lightly sob.

Maria dedicated herself to serving the Fasris family when she was saved by the previous head. Being similar aged kids of the time, Maria and Ian befriended each other quickly.

As luck would have it, Maria was assigned to Ian's care.

Maria murmured "Reinheart" a second time as she reminisced those days.

Despite having a fragile body in those days, Ian acted for the people, behalf of the people, and the sake of the people.

His heart was pure; he did not resort to underhanded trickery for his own sake; he did not sacrifice others for himself.

If Ian was to choose between a lesser evil and a greater evil back then... the Ian I knew... would choose neither. He would find another choice...

"Maria… Your eyes, your voice, your hair… I loved you…"

But, fate had it cruel.

Slow at realising his love and constricted to the duties as the second child, Maria ended up with his brother.

It was fine, he thought at the time. However, little did he know, he became a little crueller, a little colder, and a little more uncaring for the world around him.

"Where did it all go so wrong? If Mistress Marinna was still here… would things have ended the same…?"

Her heart ached with the question – literally.

"W-wha…?"

Maria moved her hand to her chest where a thin crystal lance had pierced her from behind. Her eyes widened in confusion as she collapsed weakly to the ground in the foetal position.

A familiar voice spoke from the same direction of the lance.

"Don't you dare speak ill of Marianna."

"Ian! But how!?" she wanted to shout but could not. Her lung was punctured and she was struggling to breath – Death was to come by drowning in one's own blood.

The Ian in front of her disintegrated into a pile of soil and water.

A sound of "cla-clak" was heard as the fruit knife bounced to a stop on the ground.

It was the result of illusionary and ground magic.

Ian used ground-based magic to make a doll and disguised it as himself using an illusion.

It explained why the knife went in so easily.

Maria – who was panicking – did not take notice the subtle feeling of the knife going into the substance.

"Tsk, tsk… Maria, Maria, Maria… I did not plan for you to go in such an unpleasant way. Well, how did you enjoy my voice acting?"

Ian walked over to pick up the fruit knife and started polishing it his handkerchief. He paced in a circle around her body.

Maria trembled; the cold was blanketing her.

"Maria…," began Ian as he casually paced in front of her. "I never understood why you stayed by my side…"

"…"

"Is it… because my younger brother is starting to shows the same signs of my elder brother…? It would explain if you can't handle his inconsistent rambling…"

"…"

"Or is it… because you really believed it is a maid's duty to lead her master down the correct path? But, how can someone who's just a feeble and powerless maid do that?"

I've failed, thought Maria. I've failed the Ian I promised back then. And, I've failed you, Mistress Marianna.

"Let me tell you this now," said Ian as he held her by the hair. "I decide on my own path. Whatever it is… consider me relieving you of your duties."

Maria felt the steel against her neck. The sensation of cold and pain ceased to exist shortly.

A shadowy figure emerged from behind Ian.

"HOw CoMPaSsIoNaTe… To ReLiEve HEr Of SufFErINg."

Ian did not turn around.

"What do you want, Jehivn?"

"I'm CheCkiNg oN yoUr MoNthLY pRogReSs On BehaLf oF my SuPreMe BeiNgs."

Jehivn's voice was coarse and broken – Impossible to tell if male or female.

The "Supreme Beings" spoken by the shadow refers to the eight figures who appeared over 300 years ago and ruled the land with absolute power for 50 years. However – from the songs sung by bards – it seemed that they destroyed themselves due to internal conflicts.

It was well-known that degeneracy from within leads to the downfall of all.

The Platinum Dragon Lord – being gifted with the ability to fly – took up residence in their floating castle. It is said that the dragon was guarding the treasure to prevent misuse, but perhaps, like all other dragons, it just wanted to bathe itself in treasure.

Ian wanted to probe Jehivn for information but it was dangerous – extremely dangerous. He sensed it in every fibre of his being.

Ian prided himself with fact he was probably on par with the thirteen heroes in terms of magical might but Jehivn was much, much stronger than he was.

He walked over to his office desk to take a swig of an amber liquid. He did not bother to face the shadow, for he knew, the only choice was to forfeit his life if the shadow desired it.

Ian revealed his left arm. The veins were replaced with vines and tangles.

"It is… splendid. I feel the energy that I had when I was young. I feel as if the Zy'tl seed will soon give me enough mana to use fourth tier spells."

"HuMaN, YouR WiLLingNeSS to SaCriFicE YoURSelF AmAzES mE."

"Are you not the same? You are doing everything you can to bring back the Greed Kings?"

The shadow made a threatening sound when it heard itself being equated to a human. However, it did not deny Ian's claims.

"ThE GrEeD KiNGs Is OnlY A nAmE YoU HuManS GaVe Us."

"I don't care if it's the Six Gods or the Eight Kings. I will lead this world into darkness if necessary. We are allied because our objectives align."

"A PiTy… YoU WoUld MaKE a GoOd DeVil."

The shadow wisped into nothingness.

"Hmph… And, you would make a good human."

Ian took a brief look at the dead body on the ground.

"Have a nice rest, Maria. I'll be back with Marianna soon."

"Where is Marquis Ian Vermillion Fasris? I need to relay important information to him," stated Suvia.

"I apologise, Captain Suvia… for you to come all this way," said the old butler while giving a bow. "But, the master of the house is not in tonight. He left for an important agenda."

Is he lying for him? wondered Suvia. No. It would be unbeneficial.

The butler was not exaggerating. It took nearly an hour by horse to travel from the gates to the mansion.

"Where did he go…? Did he leave with anyone?"

"I did not inquire for I was busy attending my own duties. Would you like me to ask the afternoon staff?"

"No. It's alright."

Suvia did not push the matter further because the gent in front was a highly experienced butler who served the previous master. If this butler did not keep track of it, it was highly unlikely that anyone else in the household would.

"Is there anything else I can help you with? Maybe relay the message for you when he returns…?"

Suvia considered this offer. However, she decided against it as this mission was demanded to be as confidential as possible. After all, it involves the existence of a secret child related to the head of the family.

"No. Thank you. I will be leaving."

"Ah. If you see Maria on your way, please tell her to hurry back. That girl worries me sick."

The butler gave a sigh.

"I'm sorry for my rambling. Have a safe trip."

Suvia gave a bow and retreated to her horse stationed at a distant tree.

What now? Suvia thought. Her hope of easily completing Ian's request vanished.

Suvia needed Ian to confirm if the girl was his daughter. Despite the girl fitting the bill for her looks, she did not display any other characteristics of a vampire.

Then again – were the characteristics of a half-vampire necessarily shared with a pure vampire?

Were there differences between those bitten and those of natural birth?

Suvia was going to bring the man and the girl to Ian this afternoon – She would have if she did not see the fight. After witnessing his monstrous ability, there was no way she could bring the man, even if he was to be escorted by her unit.

If he decided to be uncooperative and things went poorly, they would be met with heavy casualties. In addition, from Sigurd's report, the child also seemed to be important to him. Therefore, there was some chance that force was necessary, and she was here to request it.

In simple term, it was a security risk.

The man has not shown ill intent so far, but this may not be the case tomorrow.

It was similar to the argument of "The thirteen heroes today could be thirteen enemies tomorrow" – One of the most discussed controversies among the higher military powers.

Suvia was not willing to take the chance. It did not matter what insult she would face – the safety of her crew had utmost importance.

Suvia rubbed her temples.

How many would they need to bring him down with minimal casualties if they needed?

Although the magic swordsman was most definitely an idiot and used an outdated magic system, his fighting strength was not to be underestimated. Suvia, herself, would have had difficulty sparing him.

Despite that, the man easily caught the attack and rendered it useless with one move.

She felt that even if she multiplied by 20 times, it would not be enough.

Maybe they could request and wait for a few more troops to arrive from the bigger cities?

It would be ideal to hand in the child before continuing the expedition, but the expedition would be delayed at this point. The allocated expenses for her unit simply would not cover for the penalty payment that would be imposed by the Adventure's Guild for the delay.

In addition, the undead swarming to this town would be a much larger threat.

Suvia muttered the ideal situation to herself.

"We can only hope that the girl makes it back from the expedition and the man dies."

That being said, the man's impeccable strength can put a good dent into the town's undead forces.

Maybe, just maybe… both of my pain will just eliminate each other.

"Dammit. Where is my hero when I need him?"

For just a moment she displayed a very girly expression, before immediately tossing the weak thoughts aside.

Suvia felt stupid.

"Come on, Billy. At least you're here for me when I blow my whistle. Let's go."

She lightly patted her horse's head before she jumped on and headed off.

Billy's soft neigh was carried in a calming wind.

Momon could not sleep for the obvious reason of being an undead underneath the armour. Keeno thought it was strange for a person to stay in the armour all the time but she did not pursue the matter when he told her "It's comfortable inside the armour."

Momon was puzzled about why Keeno needed sleep in the first place. An undead vampire reaction showed for Keeno but she does not have the characteristics that he was familiar with.

In fact, he had no method to confirm what kind of undead she was.

Red eyes were commonly depicted from vampires to succubus to ghouls.

Her sharp canines were no longer sharp – why were they no longer sharp?

More importantly, her heart was still beating and she was breathing. So, why was she detected as an undead?

Doubt was starting to build.

Vampires… are undead, right? he thought. If something like Peroroncino's NPC… Shalltear… came alive… how many rules of biology would she follow…?

Then again – what were vampires in this world like?

The existence of magic in itself made no sense.

He deliberated but could not come to a conclusion.

Regardless, tonight also, he was lying down in his own bed until Keeno fell asleep. When Keeno was sound asleep, he would sneak out to do some experiments.

"Keeno, can you sleep?"

"No. You…?"

It was not that the beds were uncomfortable or the room was bad – compared to the first day – as he decided to rent out a decent room from the money gained.

He narrowed his sight onto Keeno.

"Keeno, I'm worried about you."

"What? Why…?"

The sudden statement made Keeno turn her head towards him. The waning moon's light was reflected in her crimson eyes.

"It's because you have been restless in your sleep…"

Or so, he had been told by the [Evil Eye] that acts as a sentry when he sneaked off.

He wondered if it was an early sign for more troubling behaviour that may develop in the future.

He considered leaving her in town to recover as he went on this expedition. However, disapproved of the idea as there was no one to look after her.

What about the future? he contemplated. Is it better to provide a normal life for her? What is considered normal here?

Since Keeno remained quiet, he continued to talk.

"Are you scared of them…? Facing a horde of undead…? Do you want to take on another quest instead?"

"…"

More moments of silence passed.

Keeno finally opened her mouth to say "That's not it."

"It's… it's just that…," she continued. "Why did I survive?"

He could not answer. It was one of the many questions on his mind as well.

"If I did not learn my second tier magic… if I did not agree to go to town… would this still have happened? Is it my fault grandpa, Felix, and aunt FeFe are gone? If I wasn't born… mother would still be here and aunt FeFe wouldn't be sad."

There were hints of tears in her voice.

Survivor's guilt, he thought with a sigh.

He was ashamed that he made her cry once more. Over and above that, he only had the comparison to a game experience.

It was, perhaps, comparable to the time when Momonga's party of 14 got wiped out by an unexpected boss skill during a patch update. He was the only one spared because he normally lets his summons do the fighting while he stood at a safe distance.

After that incident, he never again dismissed the update notes.

"I don't know what the correct words to say… or if there are even correct words at all… but it's not your fault. Even if it is, you work to make it right."

"Easy for you to say… I don't have enough strength alone."

Momon produced a small silver ring in his hand.

Earlier, he decided to test out his [Item Creation] with items of this world. He wanted to create something small and cheap, because it could be hidden or destroyed with [Item Destruction] without much hassle if it turned bad.

Conveniently, he had 12 silver coins from the trade this morning. Living expenses were not particularly high, so he decided to use 3 of it.

The result was this – a small silver ring with milgrain along the delicate edges, embodied with a small silver flower.

Effects on the ring were – same as Yggdrasil – some small and insignificant boost in the luck stat.

The luck stat in Yggdrasil boosted chance and power of a critical hit. However, he wondered if it would still work the same here. The best option was to give it to someone that he could keep his eye to monitor the effects.

In addition, it would be a bit of a waste to just discard the ring.

He got up and walked over to her bed to pass her the ring.

"Keeno, have this ring. It should give you a bit of luck and help you fight in the upcoming event. Consider me lending you my strength."

"Y… you idiot. You really know how to make a girl cry…"

"Eh? Eh!?"

-XXX-