This winter feels even colder than before. But the winter break, which will warm both the bodies and minds of students, is just around the corner.
I packed my things a long time ago, and since I can teleport directly to the mansion, there’s no hassle. Not that I had much luggage to begin with.
The real issue is Ariel and Clark. Their existence is currently a closely guarded secret, known only to a select few.
If Ariel’s presence alone is enough to cause a commotion, then what if Clark’s existence is exposed too? People might focus on this rather than the “Zenon Chronicles.”
Besides, Clark himself has already stated that he intends to experience a bit more of the world before his final farewell. There’s no need to stir up unnecessary trouble.
I plan to make their existence public only after the hype around the Zenon Chronicles has completely died down.
Of course, Clark is an exception. His story will be revealed separately in a spin-off novel titled The Passing Hero.
However, some people need to know the truth beforehand. One of them is Leona, the one who resurrected Clark using sorcery.
I should have informed Leona first, but due to our overlapping exam schedules—and the fact that I was preoccupied with matters at the royal palace—it was difficult to meet her.
So, right before the winter break, after all the exams were over, I finally introduced Clark to her while discussing future plans.
[So, this is the kid who brought me back with sorcery.]
And so, today, Leona and Clark finally met. I proudly presented to her the impressive result of her spell.
Clark looked at Leona with an expression that seemed to convey warmth and gratitude, while Leona stood there looking dazed.
Unlike others who reacted with shock or excitement, her response was more like, This isn’t right… The kind of expression one makes when the outcome is far from what they expected.
Her animal ears twitched atop her head as she turned her gaze to me.
Her round, golden eyes widened—an uncharacteristically cute expression for her.
“…Is this really him?”
Normally, she would have pointed at him with her finger, but instead, she hesitantly gestured toward Clark with both hands.
Despite her usually rough demeanor, she showed Clark great respect, befitting of a beastkin.
“Yeah. He’s my grandfather, the one we resurrected together through sorcery.”
[It’s good to see you, child. Thanks to you, I was able to reunite with my son and meet my grandson.]
Clark gave a small bow and expressed his sincere gratitude.
Seeing this, Leona became even more flustered and quickly waved her hands.
“N-No, it wasn’t me! The offering was just really good at the time, so it worked. Anyone else could’ve done it too!”
“That’s not like you at all.”
I raised an eyebrow at her unusual attitude.
She had been respectful when meeting my father as well, but this was different.
She wasn’t just being polite—her demeanor was filled with admiration, like she was facing a legendary figure.
Clark had indeed achieved feats worthy of being called a hero, but Leona didn’t yet know the full story.
“Of course I should be respectful! I told you before, didn’t I? The souls that can be summoned through sorcery are extremely limited! Your grandfather is at least on par with heroes!”
“How do you know that—ah. Of course, you would.”
I must have explained it before.
Normally, souls reincarnate according to the laws of the cycle, but exceptional souls are taken by the gods themselves.
A warrior’s soul—one that has reached the rank of a hero—waits in a place called Valhalla.
However, angels are currently unable to resurrect people, so summoning through sorcery is the only way to call forth a soul, provided the soul is willing to respond.
‘I completely forgot to ask about this.’
Clark’s mere existence had been so shocking that I overlooked these details about sorcery and the beastkin’s respect for their ancestors.
Which made me wonder—was Clark also waiting in Valhalla?
“Grandfather, were you taken by the gods too? Were you in Valhalla?”
[That’s right.]
“What was it like?”
[It was fun. Full of rough-and-tumble warriors, men and women alike.
Since we were in soul form, we couldn’t actually die, so we could fight endlessly. If things got too chaotic, the gods would step in to mediate.]
I pulled out my notebook and neatly recorded his words—I had just gained new material.
Meanwhile, Leona’s eyes sparkled as she stammered,
“Th-Then, Clark… you were in Valhalla before being resurrected?”
[That’s right.]
“I see… That’s odd. Normally, at best, a summoned soul only leaves traces behind or possesses the summoner…
Was it because his body was intact? Or maybe it was because the offering was Ariel’s sprout?
A sprout connected to the World Tree would…”
Leona muttered to herself, touching her lips thoughtfully.
Even as an expert in sorcery, Clark’s resurrection was an unexpected outcome for her.
[So, other souls don’t resurrect like I did when summoned?]
“Huh? Oh, no, that’s not it. It’s possible to resurrect a soul as a skeleton, but…”
[But?]
“But do you really think a mere pile of bones could contain the soul of a hero? Absolutely not.
You can force the soul in, but the body would crumble in no time. Death Knights do exist, but while they retain intelligence, they lack reason.
Liches, too, are more obsessed with magic than anything else.”
Leona had just mentioned Death Knights and Liches—both skeleton beings revived through necromancy or other means, capable of speech.
Each of them possessed formidable power, and the mere rumor of their existence would lead to large-scale subjugation efforts.
That’s how dangerous they were.
This was why talking skeletons were widely regarded as threats.
It was also part of the reason why Kate had attacked Clark on sight.
[Well, none of that matters. I’ll be cremated soon enough anyway.]
“You have no regrets about staying here?”
[None. I accomplished everything I wanted in life, and thanks to my grandson, I’ve settled any lingering regrets.
I got to see my daughter-in-law and meet my other grandchildren. I’ll rest for a bit, then return.]
As he spoke, Clark placed his bony hand gently on my head.
Even though it was just bones, I could feel his warmth, and it made me smile.
I wanted him to stay for a year or longer, to witness how the world had changed.
But Clark firmly refused.
He said that just his presence here was a burden to both the gods and me. His stubbornness must have been inherited.
However, Leona seemed to detect something in his words and carefully asked,
“Then let me ask differently—do you not feel even a little regret? Even if you have no lingering attachments, that doesn’t mean you don’t feel wistful.”
[…You have a keen sense for emotions, despite being a pile of bones.]
“It’s a beastkin trait to sense emotions. And since I was raised in human society, I’ve also developed sharp instincts.”
Indeed, Leona had always had that quality.
Especially among feline beastkin, who were highly perceptive to human emotions.
It wasn’t a natural-born ability but one that developed as beastkin built their own societies and cultures.
Even in past lives, one could roughly understand by watching a cat occasionally rub its face against its melancholy owner.
[…Yeah. You’re right. Even if I leave, the demon worshippers are still running rampant, so there are more than a few things to worry about.
That being said, there are still too many unresolved issues to leave things as they are.]
Perhaps because he was in front of the very person who had resurrected him, Clark folded his arms and openly shared his concerns.
Just as he said, the threat of the demon worshippers was still ongoing.
They had already failed twice in their attempts to attack me, but I had no idea what they were up to now or where they were.
Although Clark had defeated most of the monarchs who could be considered the real-world embodiments of the Seven Deadly Sins, a new monarch might have taken the throne, or some may still remain.
However, staying like this was also problematic.
Even if his rationality was intact, he was still an existence that defied the natural order.
Just by remaining in the present world, he would cause great harm, and worse, he might even bring danger to the family he so dearly loved.
[I’d love nothing more than to remain as the guardian spirit of my family… but is there no way?]
“No. Calling it a guardian spirit sounds nice, but in reality, you’d be no different from a lingering ghost.
Even though there’s a Luminous-Mora temple in the Michelle territory, it wouldn’t just be difficult—it would be agonizing for you.
Do you know what kind of impact a lingering ghost has?”
[I don’t.]
“If it were an ordinary soul, it might not be noticeable, but you, Sir Clark, are someone who reached the rank of a hero.
Your very existence alone would create significant disturbances, both big and small.
For example, books that were neatly placed could suddenly fall, or a chandelier might unexpectedly crash down. That’s usually how haunted houses work.”
[Forget I ever asked.]
Just hearing it sounded like a huge nuisance. There was a reason ghosts were called restless spirits.
Clark wouldn’t deliberately drop a chandelier on my head, but this wasn’t something he could control.
These things happened simply because of his presence alone.
According to Leona’s additional explanation, this was why the vessel of a spirit was so important.
Just as people sometimes break things when they fail to control their strength, the spiritual waves of a lingering ghost worked in the same way.
“What worries you the most, Sir Clark?”
[Hmm…]
The moment Leona asked, Clark turned his gaze towards me and stared intently.
I was momentarily taken aback by his look, but I quickly understood.
Among our family members, everyone except me had some means of protecting themselves.
My father was beyond question.
Dave and Nicole were members of the Navy Knights, and I had heard they were growing stronger by the day.
My mother rarely ever left the mansion, and now, she was in a position where she only needed to invite people in.
Honestly, putting all of that aside, I was probably Clark’s biggest concern.
After all, I was the one who had single-handedly destroyed the demon worshippers with just a single piece of writing.
In reality, there had already been two assassination attempts against me, whereas none of my other family members or acquaintances had even faced a hint of danger.
Scratching his cheek with a finger, Clark hesitated before asking cautiously.
[Grandson, how strong are you? Can you take down an ogre with your bare hands?]
“I don’t know. I’ve never fought a monster before.”
[You heard that, didn’t you?]
Hearing my answer, Clark looked at Leona as if to say, “See?” Leona nodded as if she understood.
It was a little baffling, but it made sense. Even at the bare minimum, I would need to be at least one level below my father to reassure him.
This was Clark, someone who had fought the demon worshippers head-on—including their monarchs.
When it came to safety, there was no such thing as being overly cautious.
[Your body isn’t in the best condition either, and on top of that, you lack proper skills. It makes me uneasy.]
“…Did you just say my body is in bad condition?”
[When I was alive, my thigh was twice the size of yours. The same goes for your father now.]
“Wait, no… That’s…”
Aren’t you two the real monsters here?
Both of them had bodies packed with muscle like something out of a fighting manga.
Clark, when he was alive, and my father now, both had physiques that suited the title of a walking tank.
Even I wasn’t exactly small—I was actually growing taller every day and was already above average.
But no matter what I said, I wouldn’t be able to persuade Clark. The quickest solution was to give up.
“…So is there a way?”
“There is one. But I can’t guarantee it will work.”
[Can you tell me what it is?]
At Clark’s question, Leona turned her gaze—not to us, but to something behind us.
Clark and I followed her line of sight.
“Mom, Mom! Ariel wants more cookies!”
“You already had some earlier.”
“But I want more! Make more!”
“No. We’re heading back to the mansion soon.”
“Ugh! Ariel wants cookies!”
Ariel was whining for more cookies, while Adelia stood firm like an impenetrable wall.
Leona’s gaze remained fixed on Ariel.
Then, as if confirming her thoughts, she tilted her head slightly before speaking hesitantly.
“Um… have you ever heard of talismans?”
“Talismans? Why?”
“With a talisman, you can keep a soul in the present world temporarily.
Depending on what the talisman is made of, the duration changes.
And if you consume the talisman, you can even allow a spirit to possess you temporarily. At least, that’s how I understand it.”
“So that means…”
This chapt𝓮r is updat𝒆d by ƒreeωebnovel.ƈom.
[……]
Clark and I turned our gaze back to Ariel.
More specifically, to the sprout growing atop her head.
I had already confirmed before that Ariel’s sprouts could be plucked endlessly, as if they were being copied.
The side effect was that she would become sleepier, but as long as she had enough sunlight and energy replenishment, she could grow more infinitely.
Leona realized what we were thinking and let out a bitter smile.
“…Would that really be okay?”
There was no response.
“Sigh… Fine, fine. Just this once, okay?”
“Yay! Mom, you’re the best!”
Instead of an answer, all we heard was Ariel’s victorious cheer after besting Adelia.
‘…Is this child abuse?’
I suddenly felt a twinge of guilt.
Meanwhile in Helium.
Just as she had finished most of her work and was preparing to head to the Michelle estate, Cecily came across an interesting piece of news.
“A funeral?”
“Yes. There are reports that a funeral will be held if Jin dies. The location is…”
Cecily nodded as she listened. Then, she asked the demon who had delivered the news.
“Who is organizing it?”
“As of now, we’re not sure. It might not even have a specific host. It seems to be more of an event forming naturally as people gather.”
“Will anyone from Helium be attending?”
“Hmm… There are rumors that most of the demons might participate.”
“Oh…”
Cecily, who usually had a playful demeanor, simply smiled.
“Sounds interesting.”
“What should we do?”
“Just leave it be. But ensure that proper security forces are stationed nearby. Even if adventurers are present, a terrorist attack could lead to a major incident.”
“Will you not be managing it yourself?”
“Why would I?”
Surprisingly, she had no intention of attending the funeral herself.
“I’m too busy searching for my love.”
She had a more pressing matter—releasing all the affection she had been holding back.
“Besides, if someone like me gets involved, things turn political. It’s best when events like this happen naturally.”
And, of course, there were practical reasons as well.