Damn Necromancer - Chapter 29

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Wasteful Necromancer (29)
Resistance
―Shreek! There’s the Dekum Tribe!
Before them lay a village dotted densely with crude huts, just as he’d seen before.
A hundred orcs bearing tools advanced with swagger, and their counterparts emerged to meet them.
‘About a hundred and fifty, I’d say.’
It seemed the population of orc villages was remarkably consistent.
A massive orc stepped forward and spoke.
―Shreek! What brings you here?
“Are you the chief of this tribe?”
―Shreek? A human?
The orc stared at Kim Min-woo with perplexed eyes.
Soon the orc nodded his head.
―……That’s right. I’m Dekum, the chieftain!
“Join our Resistance.”
―Resistance? What’s that?
“An organization that hunts Witches.”
A murmur rippled through them.
Hunt a Witch?
For orcs oppressed through countless ages, the very word Witch was terror incarnate. So when a human—not even one of their own—suddenly appeared spouting such talk, bewilderment was inevitable.
Then.
Urkan stepped forward.
―This human here is a true warrior who defeated me, Urkan! And he’s my brother!
―Shreek? How can a human be your brother?
―I said the weak one is the younger brother!
―Shreek! I only believe what I see with my own eyes!
Dekum raised his axe.
‘Of course.’
When it came to subjugating orcs, demonstrating power beat conversation every time.
Dekum didn’t seem to be a boss like Urkan was.
“Come on then.”
Better to make this quick.
Kwaaaaagh!
A mournful cry of defeat echoed across the plain.
* * *
The Dekum Tribe, the Twin Axe Tribe, the Stone Head Tribe…
He’d subdued every orc tribe in the vicinity.
It wasn’t particularly difficult.
The pattern was simple: march with the orc force to a village, challenge the chieftain—their strongest warrior—to single combat before all their eyes, and crush him. Their loyalty would follow. Thanks to this method, he’d already acquired a dozen younger brothers.
Gurgle-gurgle!
More than a thousand orcs now trailed behind him like chicks following their mother.
‘…This is going to get truly busy.’
Just thinking about their daily food consumption made his head spin already.
He pulled up the force roster.
[Current Resistance Composition]
[Leader: Kim Min-woo]
[Members: 1 Human, 1,322 Orcs]
[Standard: Naive Primitives]
[Average Level: 118]
[Food Supply: Very Poor]
[Morale: Not Bad. Strongly oriented toward a powerful leader.]
[Enemy Alert Level: 0 (They don’t even know the Resistance exists yet)]
In a single day, the orc numbers had swelled past a thousand.
Even now, their ranks continued to grow. News of a great confederated tribe had spread, drawing every wandering orc in the region.
“Urkan. Gather all your younger brothers.”
―Shreek! Understood!
Twelve orc chieftains assembled at once.
―Shreek! Big brother! What’s the matter?
“I hear there’s a Cockatrice herd around here. Anyone know where?”

At those words, Maktun, who ranked twelfth among the twelve orcs, raised his hand.
“Screech! I know, I know! Maktun knows!”
“Good, youngest. Lead the way.”
“Understood!”
The orc mob surged forward in a rumbling wave.
“Screech! Meat! Big brother said he’d give us meat!”
“Screech! Cockatrice meat is delicious! I’ve tasted it!”
“I’m going to eat it too! I’m starving!”
A unit with no discipline or order whatsoever—yet brimming with savage ferocity.
Because of that, even though they were marching toward cockatrices a hundred levels higher than themselves, their morale overflowed like a flooding river.
Before long, across the snow-covered expanse.
A swarming mass of monsters came into view.
Heads resembling roosters.
Bodies towering well over three meters.
Sharp beaks and pointed claws glinted in the sunlight.
There were easily more than a hundred such cockatrices.
‘Several are going to die today.’
This was a hunt that could never happen without casualties. Even with him joining in, it would be the same.
‘Survival of the Strong.’
Only the powerful would live.
That’s how they would be tested and winnowed.
“Tear into that meat! Charge!”
“Orc! Orc!”
The orcs, brave but otherwise corpses, rushed forward with axes in hand.
[Summoning Cedric!]
[Skeleton Summoning…….]
The skeleton regiment mixed in among the orcs and charged toward the cockatrices.
The cockatrices, who had been watching the orcs warily, grew fierce in their eyes.
“Caw-caw!”
“Shriek!”
These creatures too were battle-crazed like the orcs.
The instant they collided.
“Screech!”
Crack!
Splinter!
The orcs began dying in heaps. Each time a pointed beak pierced them, holes tore through their bodies; each time a massive leg kicked them, they flew dozens of meters through the air.
The orcs didn’t simply sit idle.
Urkan’s axe came crashing down on a cockatrice’s head, its beak dripping blood. The monster’s neck snapped and glowed as it was engulfed from all sides by the orc swarm.
“Caw-caw!”
The monster let out a mournful cry before being swept away in a tide of orcs and vanishing.
Kim Min-woo was also taking down a cockatrice.
The orcs provided the body.
‘I provide the damage.’
Each time he drove his blade into its rear, the monster reacted as if it loved it.
‘I need to milk this for all it’s worth.’
Otherwise, what was the point of building up his unit? After thirty minutes of fierce combat, the cockatrice swarm was hunted down.
[Your Level increases by 2.]
[The Skeleton Regiment’s average Level rises to 20!]
[The Skeleton Regiment’s combat experience surges dramatically!]
[Concentrated combat experience creates a new Skill!]
[The Skeletons can now use Close Combat Weapon Technique (F)!]
[The Skeleton Mage Regiment’s combat experience…….]
‘Huh?’
He rubbed his eyes.
It wasn’t particularly strange that combat experience had accumulated.
The Death Lord and Cedric titles had that effect.
But…….
‘The skeletons created a new Skill on their own?’
This was an outcome he’d never imagined. And for good reason—skeletons were at best the lowest-tier summons available at Level 1.
They’d gain levels through hunting, but at the end of the day, they were still just skeletons.
Without any learning ability to speak of, their combat sense remained dreadfully poor.
For this reason, they were typically deployed as meat shields.
Send them in a rush, hit things indiscriminately.
Something would land eventually.
That was the extent of their intended use.
But these creatures had created a Skill on their own?
That was the sort of feat only high-Level Awakened Ones would demonstrate.
“Death Lord, sir…”
Just how far does your power extend?
Kim Min-woo made a decision.
From this day forward, he would become one with the Death Lord.
He examined the Skeleton Summoning Skill.
[Skeleton Summoning (F)+9]
[A Skill enhanced to its limit.]
[Consumes 10 Mana to summon 2 Level 20 Skeletons (1+1).]
[* Possesses Close Combat Weapon Technique (F).]
[Close Combat Weapon Technique (F): Damage from all close combat weapons increases by 10%.]
‘Fantastic.’
Insane.
All that effort equipping them with weapons had finally paid off.
But…
‘Joy is joy, sure enough.’
A true gamer didn’t simply celebrate such moments — he analyzed the root cause.
Why had the Skill emerged?
‘Was it the massive summoning?’
Collective Intelligence had always been fearsome in its own right.
Even if each Skeleton’s learning ability matched that of an ordinary person, stack hundreds of them together and the efficiency soared.
Hundreds of creatures swinging and thrusting weapons — their accumulated experience crystallized into a single Skill in one stroke. It made perfect sense.
‘Wait a moment.’
A horrifying possibility suddenly struck him.
“Does this learning ability really have to be confined to combat?”
Learning ability.
The power to learn, pure and simple.
He’d thrown Skeletons into battle because they evoked the image of meat shields, but there was no reason to limit them to that single function.
‘What if they learned production-class Skills?’
Blacksmithing, alchemy — anything would do.
All equally good.
If they learned through Collective Intelligence, wouldn’t related Skills generate rapidly?
‘It’s worth trying.’
Even now, this was evident.
The Orcs’ equipment was desperately inadequate.
He’d scattered whatever spare gear remained in his inventory as a stopgap.
But arming over a thousand Orcs was a monumental task.
Most wore nothing but a single Axe and a leather loincloth.
Those with any rank of authority had at least wrapped themselves in full hides.
It would hardly be strange to call them crude savages.
Orcs in nothing but loincloths.
If the Skeletons had possessed even one production-class Skill, they’d have been spared such a pitiful state.
They could have crafted something from the hides and feathers and other byproducts they’d obtained.
But as things stood?
No one in the production trades existed among them.
What could be made from hides was nothing but ragged armor with no effects attached — at best offering meager defense and crude temperature retention.
‘For now, I’d better make do with that much…’
He looked upon the Orcs.
“Collect the hides, bones, and feathers and gather them up!”
―Ork!
The Orcs set about skinning the Cockatrice with their Axes.
They drooled at the thought of meat, their fighting spirit undimmed even as nearly two hundred of their kin had been swept away in the last battle.
“Chieftains — all of you gather here!”
―Shriek! Urkan’s here!
—Dekum is here!
The chieftains came running.
“Where’s the youngest?”
—Hisss. Maktun is dead! Now I, Palkun, am the youngest!
“……Ah, I see.”
—Hisss! Big brother, don’t grieve. To fall in battle is a blessing. Sorrow is an insult to us!
I nodded.
He was right—for an orc, to die fighting was indeed a blessing. They were a race that feared weakness and slow decay far more than honorable combat.
“Cook half the meat. Wrap the rest in hide and store it.”
—Hisss! We’re hungry! That won’t fill our bellies!
“Watch your tongue with your elder.”
—……Understood. We’ll store half!”
Urkan, the second-eldest, immediately dropped into a submissive crouch.
The other chieftains followed like dominoes, heads bowing in quick succession.
I’d have liked nothing more than to let them eat their fill, but that would be the path to ruin.
The number of monsters was finite.
If they gorged themselves daily, starvation would come soon enough.
‘I need to get these ones up to an average Level of at least 150……’
And the numbers—I’d need at minimum ten thousand warriors.
Anything less, and they wouldn’t stand a chance against the fortress’s monsters.
I checked the force’s average Level. This battle had raised it from 118 to 122.
‘……Still a long way to go.’
That’s when the aroma of roasting meat began to rise in thick, sizzling plumes.
Small shapes began to appear in the distance.
‘Hmm?’
I narrowed my eyes, focusing my gaze.
“……Dwarves?”
A small group of dwarves was approaching from the direction we were camped.
Wariness flickered across the orcs’ eyes—they clearly weren’t on friendly terms.
—Hisss! The short-ones!
Already, some of the hot-headed ones began gripping their axes tightly.
“Stop.”
—…….
“I’ll go speak with them. Keep eating.”
I stood up.
The distance closed quickly, and soon I could make out the dwarves’ faces clearly.
“Human! We would speak with you!”
“Identify yourselves and state your purpose.”
“I am Turon, chieftain of the Black Rock Tribe! I heard there was conflict between you and the Corpse Collector. Is that so?”
“It is.”
The group of dwarves stirred briefly.
But only briefly.
Turon stepped forward.
“There’s talk of a mad human resisting the Witch. That would be you, then?”
“How did you know?”
Turon smiled wryly at that, pulling a telescope from his pouch.
“A device for seeing from afar. I’ve been monitoring the orcs’ movements regularly. My scouts told me—one human not only destroyed the Corpse Collectors, but has been gathering the orcs themselves.”
……
I said nothing.
In a negotiation, the needier party always speaks first. Right now, the dwarves were the ones who’d sought me out.
Then.
Turon’s face grew serious.
“The Witch has begun culling. Refugees told me—three tribes have already vanished. Soon her forces will turn toward us as well.”
“I know. The orcs nearly met that fate too.”
Turon nodded.
“The reason I’m here is simple. If you truly stand against the Witch……we wish to stand with you.”
“You didn’t seem particularly fond of the orcs.”
At that, Turon laughed bitterly.
“What race doesn’t bend when hunger is at stake? It’s true we’ve clashed over food. But that matters little now. We’re prepared to offer our full cooperation.”
“Cooperation—in what way?”
“Truth be told, I’ve no confidence in open combat. But I craft equipment like no one else—real craftmanship. I’ll supply the arms. What I want in return is defense and provisions.”
“That’s not a bad arrangement at all.”
He smiled faintly.
Orcs were brave but poorly equipped. Dwarves were hopeless in battle but specialists in crafting arms and armor.
A symbiosis where each filled the other’s gaps.
Their enemies were the same too.
There was no reason not to join hands.
‘Besides……’
This could be a chance to have the skeletons learn production skills.
From the finest teachers imaginable—the dwarves themselves.
Kim Min-woo clasped Turon’s hand.
They exchanged knowing smiles.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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