I Kidnapped the Hero’s Women

Chapter 22 – Julia the Necromancer (2)



“What? You guys can’t hear that? I can hear it clearly. He’s saying he’s going crazy with injustice. He’s cursing the king who cut off his arm and killed him. He’s demanding the return of his stolen sword. How can you not hear that?”

“Stop kidding around, Julia. You’re scaring me…”

“Huh…?”

It seemed that Julia finally grasped the situation, and her expression began to harden.

Julia could hear sounds that others couldn’t.

And they weren’t the beautiful songs of spirits, but the mournful wails of ghosts?

Something serious was happening.

“No, look outside! You can see it on the street! Don’t you see the old dwarf with a white beard? He’s missing both hands!”

“What are you talking about, Julia? There’s no one on the street…”

The street Julia pointed to was completely empty.

There was no sign of any old dwarf with a white beard.

Realizing she was the only one who could see and hear these things, Julia’s face turned pale.

“Are you sure you’re not just hallucinating from lack of sleep?”

“I’ve been sleeping well lately, thanks to that man… Aslan…”

“Huh? What does that man have to do with you sleeping well?”

“Ah! Just forget it! It’s not important! But am I really hallucinating? Could it be?”

Hallucinations.

I wished that were the case too.

I didn’t want to believe that Julia had awakened as a necromancer instead of a spirit mage.

‘Is this my fault?’

If Julia truly had awakened as a necromancer, could I have influenced it?

Definitely. There’s no way I didn’t.

In the storyline, she was supposed to awaken as a spirit mage, but because she followed my advice, she got corrupted and became a necromancer. Or something like that…

A sudden headache started pounding.

First, I needed to confirm the facts.

“Julia, repeat every word that old man says.”

“He curses the Dwarf King who cut off his arm and killed him and his son. He demands the return of his stolen Holy Swords. And… he keeps repeating ‘Finish the last Holy Sword, Jacob!’ That’s all he keeps saying…”

“Ha…”

“Why? Do you know what this is about…?”

Of course. How could I not know?

I had spent countless days and nights after possessing this body poring over newspapers.

Thanks to that, I knew all the major events of the past 100 years.

Since I only cleared Chapter 1 of the game, I had to gather information this way.

And the old man Julia described was definitely in those clippings.

“Master Artisan Jane. A legendary blacksmith who invented the mana forge technique. He’s famous for creating six Holy Swords. However, when he refused to sell the swords to the dwarf royal family, the king cut off his hands to prevent him from finishing the seventh sword.”

“Wha!? He was a real person? How did he die…?”

“Jane fled to the empire and tried to pass on his skills to his son, but assassins caught up with them, and both were killed. The six Holy Swords were stolen and dispersed worldwide.”

“So it’s true! He’s a real ghost! Why am I the only one who can see him?”

“Did you recently succeed in manipulating mana? Tell me honestly.”

“Yesterday… I tried separating the mana as you advised. I got to the final stage but failed. Nothing happened. Really.”

“That was probably the moment you awakened as a necromancer. The first spell for both necromancers and spirit mages is naturally their awakening spell.”

N-necromancer?!”

Julia shrieked in horror.

Her reaction was akin to a teenage girl being told their laundry got mixed with their dad’s.

“No! Why am I a necromancer?!”

“If you can talk to the dead, you’re a necromancer.”

“But I might not be able to communicate…”

“Try talking to him.”

“Hmph? It won’t work! It’s impossible! There’s no way I’m a necromancer… Hwaaaah!? We made eye contact! He looked at me! Waaaah!!!”

Julia burst into tears and clung to me.

She pressed her face into my chest, crying her eyes out and wrapping herself around me like a koala, effectively immobilizing me.

‘This is a big problem.’

A necromancer who fears ghosts.

I never saw this coming.

Then again, the whole thing with Julia becoming a necromancer was an accident.

She was destined to get along with cute, pretty, sparkling spirits.

But now she’s terrified after seeing the vengeful spirit of an armless dwarf.

It must have been a tremendous shock for a young girl.

‘If it’s an unsettled spirit, it might be an evil ghost. Maybe my misfortune touch can help.’

Since this happened because of me, I should take responsibility.

There’s no choice.

Julia is too scared, so I’ll have to eliminate the spirit myself.

“Why me! Why does it have to be me! Huuu!”

“If you’re scared, I’ll eliminate him.”

“N-no!”

“…?”

Grab.

As I was about to walk forward, Julia stopped me by grabbing my wrist.

What does she want?

“Eliminating him is too much… He’s pitiful as it is.”

“Then what do you suggest?”

“If there’s something I must do… it must be that, right?”

Gathering her courage, Julia’s eyes showed determination.

A necromancer’s duty is clear.

They either enslave the spirit or convert it into mana.

Using spirits who couldn’t find peace as tools is what necromancers do.

“I should resolve his grudge and let him rest in peace.”

“…What?”

What nonsense is she talking about?

It seems Julia doesn’t really understand what a necromancer is.

.

.

.

A dark store.

Empty bottles were scattered, and the smell of alcohol filled the air.

A young dwarf was slumped over a table, barely conscious.

He fumbled for a bottle when suddenly…

“Hey, get up, owner.”

“This forge has been closed for 30 years!”

“Stand up straight, Jacob, grandson of Master Jane.”

“…!”

Jacob’s eyes snapped open, and his drunkenness vanished instantly as he straightened up.

This eerie voice.

He couldn’t forget the voice of the notorious Aslan.

“Wh-what do you want this time? Didn’t you confirm last time that I have no talent or ability? I can’t make Holy Swords like my grandfather!”

Old memories resurfaced, making Jacob tremble.

The Count had once forced him to try forging a Holy Sword.

The problem was, when Master Jane was killed, Jacob was just a baby.

He grew up knowing nothing about blacksmithing.

Even after explaining this, the Count didn’t believe him and thought he was hiding something. After much suffering, he was finally released.

That ordeal left Jacob with lasting PTSD.

Wasn’t that supposed to be the end of it?

Why come back now?

Why bother a worthless dwarf like me who squanders his grandfather’s legacy on alcohol?

“You’re mistaken. As the descendant of Master Jane, you definitely have the same ability.”

“We already confirmed that my mana is too impure to replicate mana forging.”

“That’s what you think. Your grandfather says otherwise.”

“…What?”

Aslan gestured, and Sylvia stepped forward, smashing her fist into the wooden floor.

While Jacob gaped in shock, she tore up the floorboards and pulled out a box.

Inside was an unfinished longsword hilt.

But it was just a plain longsword, not a Holy Sword with a special aura.

“Complete the unfinished Holy Sword.”

“H-how did you know this was hidden under my floor…?”

“Do you really need to know?”

“No. On second thought, I don’t think I need to know.”

Jacob straightened up, sensing the tense atmosphere.

He knew better than to pry into a noble’s affairs.

His father and grandfather were killed for crossing the dwarf royal family.

Jacob had learned to keep his head down and stay out of trouble from a young age.

“But even if you say so, I can’t do it. I have no way to complete this Holy Sword…”

“There is a way. Use mana cultivation to purify your mana. With that, you, as Master Jane’s descendant, can use mana forging without issue. I’ll teach you the cultivation method, so get started.”

“B-but…”

“Stop stalling! My servant is trembling in fear because of your grandfather!”

Screech!

Aslan’s outburst and the faint killing intent froze Jacob in place.

But… he had no idea what Alsan was talking about.


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