"Actually, at first, I wanted to be a swordsman who wore clothes as white as snow and came and went like the wind. But then, where did I go wrong? Why did my style become like this …"
The mage robe I bought from the town didn't even have any magic enchantments on it. It had almost zero defensive capabilities, and it didn't even have any magic buffs. It was quite uncomfortable to wear.
The only use of this cheap black mage robe was probably to show off my identity as an evil undead mage. But the effect was so good that I didn't know what to say.
"Tsk, tsk, this crying sounds like I'm about to go to a slaughterhouse."
Perhaps it was because I had been too vicious with my attacks, or perhaps it was because Shink was screaming too pitifully during my transformation into an undead, but even though I was the one who saved him, the villagers all looked at me in fear. Some women and children were even crying, as if they themselves had suffered an even worse fate.
Right now, apart from sighing at how terrible the reputation of undead mages was, I could only complain about how wrong the style was.
"A swordsman who wears snow-white clothes? Isn't that just cannon fodder? Your original goal in life was to become cannon fodder. "
"Wait a moment, how could a white-clothed swordsman be cannon fodder?"
The silly cat's comment made me feel like something was wrong. What was wrong with the image of a swordsman in my mind? Cannon fodder?
"A large number of people are equipped with single-handed swords and two-handed swords, but they don't wear armor. Only the slaves who are brought here are given the cheapest and simplest longswords and two-handed swords, along with wooden shields and helmets to block arrows, forcing them to become cannon fodder. An unenchanted blunt sword won't even be able to cut through chain armor, and without armor, they'll just be easy targets for the enemy to kill. What else can they be other than cannon fodder? "
The silly cat seemed to be going crazy, and I had somewhat grasped the pattern. It seemed that every time I used undead magic or achieved a breakthrough in my snake magic, she would become more and more excited, as if this was proof of her teacher's power level.
"Based on my many years of experience, any militia that has received some basic training on the battlefield will carry a bamboo pole as a spear. At the very least, it has a longer attack range and a higher chance of survival on the battlefield. Only the cannon fodder that's forced to use up the enemy's stamina and magic power will only be given a single-handed sword and sent to the battlefield. "
Although I knew that she was trying to attack me maliciously, if I thought about it carefully, based on the common sense of this world, what she said was indeed the truth.
In modern cities, the advancement of chemical industry had made clothing colors extremely common. However, in the Middle Ages, dyes could only be extracted from minerals and plants, which was rather troublesome. In the world of Aichy, the technology in this area had just sprouted and was monopolized by the alchemists, who used it for huge profits.
Although the dye technology was now in the hands of merchants and the price of the dye was not too expensive, it was still an expense.
The clothes of the nobles were always colorful and gorgeous. The colorful animals and mythical patterns were not only decorations, but also symbols of their race and status. Even the big merchants would always wear colorful clothes to show off their wealth. Even the commoners would wear colorful clothes during festivals. Only the poor who had nothing would wear the colorless white clothes.
Out of all the weapons in the world, there was a longsword that was similar in appearance and abilities to a kitchen knife. However, the longsword required fewer materials, and the blade was at least somewhat lethal. It was easy to learn how to use it … At the very least, it wouldn't hurt one's own people. Naturally, it became the best choice for cannon fodder.
As the silly cat described and I imagined it myself, the image of a white-clothed swordsman in my mind was mysteriously replaced by a swarthy farmer warrior. His swarthy face was filled with traces of working in the fields. Although he had a strong body, he had a silly smile on his face, filled with the joy of a good harvest. However, his undyed robe already had several dozen patches on it, yet he was unwilling to throw them away. His straw sandals, which had been washed so many times that they had turned white, were covered in mud. The kitchen knife that was tied to his waist was stabbed into a large radish so that he wouldn't accidentally injure himself.
"Yes, yes, that's the right image. It's so life-like. Youngsters truly have a rich imagination."
"… Harloys, it's you! Watch my big cat ball!"
I used the cat ball technique that I hadn't used for a long time. I grabbed the silly cat by the neck and threw her with great force. "I'll be back, meow!" Even as I shouted in my mind, I had already transformed into a shooting star.
"Whew, I feel much better now that I've moved around."
After messing around with Harloys, my increasingly depressed mood actually improved slightly. Perhaps this was the silly cat's way of showing concern for others.
It was needless to say that undead mages weren't well-liked. In most legends, undead mages would always be considered villains. However, I had just saved someone, yet Harloys was still staring at me as if I were a murderer. This was indeed quite displeasing.
[You care about what strangers think? It's probably because that little girl is looking at you like this that you're displeased.]
Perhaps it was because she had once seen a pile of corpses after a massacre. The sight of those bandits' corpses piled up together seemed to make Catalina quite uncomfortable. She looked at me with an even stranger expression as she completely hid behind Barton's back.
"… Do you think that I'm unable to toss you out?"
[Go ahead and toss me.]
"You shameless Goddess! Do you really think that I can't handle you … Be careful that I don't read adult magazines overnight! "
[… You're too weak. Is this the revenge of a virgin? You should at least go see the real deal. You're a perverted brat with no guts. You deserve to be single for three hundred years. If you really want to mess around, who can stop you?]
"I- I- I'll die together with you! I'm going to go see the goblin playboy right now! The gay version! Tsk, those little things hugging each other … Urgh! "
I recalled the poster that I happened to see and felt a mysterious sense of discomfort that made me want to vomit.
[I surrender … Those green little things are so disgusting. They're really willing to sell anything for money.]
I had finally won. However, a mysterious sense of sorrow was still accumulating in my chest, as if I had accidentally lost something important. Was it my moral integrity? Was it the bottom line? Or was it the last bit of dignity of a pure straight man?
"Master, I've already left a signal. 'Everything went smoothly. Tonight's transaction will proceed as usual.'"
A deep voice caused me to focus my attention on the one-eyed large man in front of me.
His physical appearance hadn't changed much compared to when he was still alive. Only his skin had darkened, and there was an indescribable aura around him. It was as if something invisible was twisting beneath his skin. The pupil in his remaining eye had disappeared, leaving behind a frightening black cross scar in the middle of the white of his eye.
"How's your transformation into a dark ranger?"
"My arm strength has nearly doubled, and my stamina is limitless. My eyesight has improved by more than four or five times, and I still need some time to get used to Divine Arts of Darkness. That's all, killing three of my previous selves would be no problem at all."
Shink seemed to be quite satisfied with his current strength. He didn't seem to be dissatisfied with his current physical appearance, which would make even a child cry. I nodded in agreement.
"Don't go overboard. You've lost your sense of pain and fatigue, but that doesn't mean that your muscles won't be damaged or fatigued. This half-dead's physical body structure is still complete. I don't want experimental subject number two to mysteriously die before I can obtain enough experimental data."
Experimental subject number two? Of course, as a top-level Necromancer, with a soul filled with hatred and a physical body of a Legend before me, if I were to simply convert it into an Undead, how would I be able to display my skills? Compared to a pure Undead, although a half-living half-undead has many of the flaws of the living, it retains the most enviable possibility of growth for Undead. Using a Legend as the benchmark to create a second half-dead, I really look forward to seeing how far it can go.
A second one? The silly cat that I had just tossed out was the first one. However, in order to ensure a high success rate, I didn't care about the cost of creating this prototype. I even used resources like Divine Sins. Not to mention, the Golden Princess, who was a natural undead, was vastly different from a normal human's soul. The only similarity between Shink and Harloys was probably their conversion ritual.
Ah, could this be the case of the first generation robots generally having cheats, while the second generation robots were generally extremely unlucky, inexplicably receiving bento? The mass-produced robots looked very powerful, but often after a high-profile appearance, they would suddenly become the source of cannon fodder and miscellaneous soldiers receiving the bento of the masses? So this world was actually a world of players with money? The only difference in combat strength was the difference in resources invested. It would seem that I had unknowingly learned the truth again.
Cough, getting back to the main topic, Shink who was filled with hatred was indeed a very useful tool for me. In fact, in order to take his emotions into consideration, I even buried the bandits from the Swift Sword Mercenary Group.
"Isn't it because you don't like the incomplete ones anymore now that you have this new toy?"
"Silly cat, do you want to fly away again right after returning?"
Although I was saying that I didn't believe it, I was actually silently agreeing with Harloys's guess. Indeed, compared to Shink, the zombies and skeletons were nothing.
Just like Harloys, who had so many restrictions, the dark ranger Shink was a pure killing machine. His increased strength was due to the removal of the human body's natural limitations on the physical body. His pure physical strength would be at least three times greater than before, and he wouldn't feel any pain at all.
Although his heart was still beating, it was no longer his vitals. The core in his brain was his vitals. Inside his brain was the soulfire of an Undead Lord, which gave him the ability to use dark magic and Divine Arts. And, the buff energy would be able to replenish and heal his constantly injured body, giving him endless life force and stamina. The result of combining life and death would be this physical body of slaughter with limitless potential.
Of course, combining life and death would also create a series of side effects and conflicts. Perhaps Shink would collapse at that time. But before that happened, he would be able to give me enough power to avenge myself, as well as give me even more useful data and information.
If I gave him two years, he should be able to use combat strength that far surpassed ordinary Saints. But, when considering the possible battles and conflicts, as well as the fact that I might have to face enemies at the same level, I needed even more information.
I glanced over at the corpses and helplessly gave up. Just as the silly cat had said, these mortal corpses that weren't even at the Silver rank were nothing more than broken bodies. They also didn't have any special bloodlines or abilities. Spending energy on them would be a waste of time. If I made them into something like Stitched Demons, that would be far too eye-catching. Not only would I be at the Gold rank, many living creatures would also view me with hostility.
In the end, I looked over at my companions who were currently chatting with me, the mercenaries, and the Northlands trio.
"It would seem that I'll have to think of a solution from the living."
…
…
While Roland was still worrying about his lack of trump cards, it was a busy scene in Kahn Knight's territory.
Numerous checkpoints had been set up at the entrance to the mountains. Fully armed royal soldiers were acting as guards, and anyone who approached would be driven away. The mountain residents who relied on the mountains for their livelihood could only think of other methods.
Facing an unknown threat, the second son of the Archduke, Link, who had just completed his coming of age ceremony and received the title of Earl, didn't act rashly and immediately set out.
As a mage, he understood just how troublesome the Haletdam generation was and what kind of possibilities it held. He knew that it was highly likely that information had been leaked. He only had one chance, so he absolutely had to grasp it.
And in half a month's time, when the second batch of reinforcements, including the engineering experts and the royal Sword Saint, arrived, it would be time for him to set out. In his plan, no matter which country received the information and acted immediately, they would be at least half a month slower than him.
But what he didn't know was that his father's mortal enemy, Marquis Taric, had sent out treasure hunters with the same goal as him. They were already eyeing the area and could forcefully break through the blockade at any moment.
Of course, he also didn't know that the seemingly obedient and loyal Knight Lord was actually secretly plotting how to let the "prince" die in an unexpected disaster.
And what was even more unfortunate was that a jinx had already arrived. He also had his eyes on the ruins of the Haletdam generation, and he himself was already in this not-so-large territory!
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