Dark Fantasy Guide for the Summoner - Chapter 64

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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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Chapter 64.
Royal Tomb III
The passage we’d traversed might not have been a water channel at all.
The sound of combat came from below us, not above.
‘Did we shift upward during our descent?’
If so, this place might be something like a ventilation shaft.
“Let’s keep moving.”
There was no need to add the word stealthily.
Laurent’s presence had already grown faint without being told.
As we moved toward the source of the sound, a hole opening downward soon came into view.
After landing silently, I surveyed the area around us.
‘I’m starting to recognize this place.’
The dimly lit corridor and the torches affixed to the walls—
this was the scenery of the Royal Tomb as I’d seen it in the game.
Screeeech…….
Before I could dwell on the moment, the wail of the Undead echoed from a distance.
We quickly readied ourselves, moved down the corridor, and soon arrived at the scene.
“Damn it……! These half-rotten corpse bastards……!”
“Get out of here, you dogs!”
“…….”
Three. Or was it two?
One Delver leaning against the wall had his head bowed low—he already looked dead from blood loss.
The remaining two were fighting desperately against the swarm of Undead pressing in on them.
Laurent looked at me.
“What are you thinking?”
“Let’s save them first.”
“They could be Marauders.”
He seemed almost certain of it, though.
I suspected the same.
“Then we just keep them alive longer.”
Laurent nodded in agreement, and……
we timed our moment and rushed onto the battlefield simultaneously.
[Lv.40 ‘Royal Tomb Ghoul’]
The pack of ghouls turned to face us.
Their backs were hunched, and they had claws as sharp and elongated as blades.
Instead of using Taunt as he normally did, Laurent advanced with an aggressive stance and thrust his blade forward.
Thwack!
The moment the blade lodged in a ghoul’s throat and it let out a strangled growl, Laurent twisted the hilt.
The instant one ghoul’s life was cut short, I swung my scythe as well.
Crunch!
Its neck came away more easily than I’d expected.
Their Level matched the pack of Elite Skeletons we’d faced outside, but honestly, the difficulty was far lower.
There were two main reasons.
First: these creatures weren’t divided into role groups the way the Skeletons were.
Unlike those that formed traditional party compositions of knights, archers, and mages, these ghouls were all oriented toward close combat, making them easier to handle.
Second: the terrain was simple. Because the corridor was narrow and cramped, a small force actually held the advantage in a fight against a large one.
It was like luring them into a tight alley and dispatching them one by one.
‘Though it does take some time.’
There was no helping it—we had to kill them thoroughly, one at a time.
Undead creatures were especially stubborn.
Shriek…….
Laurent and I steadily, if slowly, whittled down the numbers of the ghouls.
⁝
[Your Level has increased.]
⁝
We succeeded in hunting down the ghoul pack without suffering any real damage.
There had been no critical moment, yet I felt oddly exhausted—not physically, but mentally.
‘I suppose mental fatigue is unavoidable after all.’
The pressure that came with real combat didn’t wear off easily, and truthfully, it shouldn’t.
A single moment of carelessness could cost you your life.
I kept my guard up as I watched the Delvers.
“You… you all……”
Their eyes darted nervously, and something about it rubbed me the wrong way.
They were terrified, yes, but even so I could feel them scanning us—our gear, our condition, everything.
“……Do you have any Potions?”
The bearded man, who looked like a common brigand, asked without preamble.
I tilted my head slightly, askew.
“Potions? Why?”
“Why? Because we’re hurt, that’s why! What kind of question is that?”
But what was with this bastard’s tone?
I glanced at Laurent, who was pretending not to hear, methodically wiping bits of flesh from his blade.
‘So he wants to see how I handle this.’
Fine by me.
“Are you a child?”
“What?”
“Any proper Delver handles their own wounds. Stop whining like a cripple.”
“You—what kind of—!”
The brigand’s face flushed red, then purple, his already savage features growing wilder.
So what.
We’d just been fighting creatures whose skin sloughed off as they moved.
“We’re Delvers too, aren’t we? We can help each other when times are hard. Why speak like that? Do you have no sense of camaraderie?”
Ignoring the brigand’s nonsense, I picked up a bag lying nearby.
I rummaged through it and found a pouch containing Seeds.
“What—what are you doing?!”
“Don’t you know Delver ethics? We saved your lives, so we’re owed compensation. Looks like you’ve got about a million Seeds stashed away, so let’s call it even with this.”
“You brigands—!”
“……That’s enough, Terkus.”
The other man spoke in a half-resigned tone. He was the one with the oddly groomed chin whiskers.
“Their argument isn’t entirely unreasonable, is it?”
“But—!”
“No buts. Be grateful you’re alive.”
The whiskered man looked at us and spoke.
“We owe you a debt. I thought we were done for, but working as a Delver, you see miracles like this happen.”
“And you are?”
“Arman. Just a small-time Delver, as you can see.”
……
“You’re Delvers too, aren’t you? How about it? Will you join forces with us?”
As I stood there saying nothing, Arman shrugged and continued.
“Of course, since you saved our lives, we’ll follow whatever ratio you set for the Seeds. You have the rights to any discoveries, and if you give orders during the expedition, we’ll follow them—as long as they’re not completely unreasonable.”
A hollow laugh escaped me, and I felt both unease and displeasure.
The reason was simple: his attitude.
There was something artificial about it.
These men who’d nearly died moments ago were making their proposal as if they’d been waiting all along.
‘Though it’s possible he’s just sharp at reading situations and adapting.’
But if that were the case, one thing didn’t add up.
“You’re afraid.”
Those weren’t my words.
Laurent, who’d finished wiping the flesh from his blade, was staring at Arman with hollow eyes.
“Afraid?”
“Your voice is trembling faintly, and your pupils are dilated. You’re still sweating cold sweat. Those are biological indicators that appear when humans experience fear.”
“Well, of course… we nearly died at the hands of the Undead just now—”
“The immediate crisis has passed. Your minds should be stabilizing gradually, yet the opposite is happening. In fact……”
I cut in at this point.
“You seem more frightened now than when the Undead were about to kill you.”
Arman’s body flinched.
I pointed my scythe at him and asked.
“Are you a Marauder?”
“Damn it—!”
The brigand’s eyes rolled, and suddenly he spun around and bolted.
‘Running? Here?’
I thought he’d attack right away.
The bearded man cried out in desperation.
“Terkus, you fool! Running won’t solve―”
In that instant, the fleeing marauder collapsed to the ground with a heavy thud.
“Ugh……? Gargh……!”
As if his sense of balance had shattered all at once, he thrashed his limbs against the floor, his face pressed into the dirt.
It didn’t last long.
“Hee, hee-hee-hee-eee……!”
The marauder’s body swelled up like a balloon.
The moment we scrambled backward, it detonated.
‘Corpse Explosion.’
The instant the image of Aila and her party’s final moments flickered through my mind, the bearded man trembled violently.
“Damn it……. You said it would work……! I did everything you told me to, so why is this, why is―”
The creature who’d been raging suddenly clawed at his own head and began laughing like a madman.
“Ack, ack, ack! Hee, hee-hee, hee-hee-hee……!”
His hair fell out in clumps as his skin melted like wax.
With his eyes dripping away, he stumbled forward, his hands flailing.
“What’s happening……. I can’t see……. I can’t see anything……. It’s dark……. It’s so dark……. I’m scared……. It’s dark…….”
The moment his fingertips touched the wall.
With a wet sound, the bearded man’s body exploded.
…….
Fragments of flesh scattered in all directions.
Whether it was acidic or not, the walls and ground where the flesh landed hissed and corroded away.
It was the moment Laurent swallowed hard.
“Wet sound!”
…….
“…… that sound never gets old, you know? Wouldn’t you agree?”
From the end of the corridor, someone emerged.
‘Shit.’
What kind of atmosphere was this?
A learned killing intent, distinct from mere hostility—a sinister sensation crawled down my spine.
Under the torchlight at the corridor’s end stood a woman.
“Hmm…….”
The woman pulled out a grimy Notebook and hastily scribbled something in it.
Then, before we could even react, she approached abruptly and ran her finger across where the flesh fragments had sprayed.
Hiss―
Her finger began to dissolve in the acid-soaked tissue, yet the woman simply nodded with an unfazed expression and finished her notes.
“As expected, when the pH rises, the blast force weakens. It seems to correlate with the Test Subject’s Stress level as well…… hmm.”
“Hey.”
“The decay rate matched well, and the toxin concentration was similar too, so why? It must be the soul after all. Hmm…….”
“Listen!”
She looked up at me only after I called twice.
Hair bleached white, eyes of different colors, and scars crisscrossing her face like patchwork.
And the stench of rotting corpses.
“…… Are you the Necromancer?”
“Yes. That’s me.”
I was shocked.
I didn’t have any particular mental image before, but I never expected her to look like this—like an incomplete corpse.
Scrape.
Laurent drew his blade.
I also assessed the distance between us.
She didn’t look difficult to cut down, but what unsettled me was her demeanor.
Even as we made our hostility clear, she showed no change in behavior.
‘What’s her game?’
Was she really the Necromancer?
Perhaps a sacrificial pawn was playing along. Or maybe she had contingencies prepared.
…… Either way, standing off like this wouldn’t change anything.
“Where are my companions?”
“Companions?”
“Cut the act and answer.”
“I’m not playing coy. I was just thinking for a moment… Hmm. Oh, I see?”
The Necromancer pointed at me with a finger of bone.
“Test Subjects number one hundred and seven.”
Then the melted fingers regenerated.
Muscle swelled and bubbled as if boiling, veins wrapped around it, and skin covered everything in the blink of an eye.
“Of course, your friends are doing just fine.”
“Did you kill them?”
“No? They’re all perfectly safe.”
I couldn’t begin to understand what “safe” meant coming from her.
It was clear at a glance that her ethics were fundamentally different from any ordinary person’s.
‘The worst case scenario is…’
They might be clinging to life in a state more horrible than the bearded man who’d just died—barely breathing at all.
Or maybe “alive” itself was a lie.
While I was turning these thoughts over, the Necromancer spoke.
Her face twisted into an ominous smile.
“Want to go meet them? Together.”

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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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