Chapter 480: Omen (徵兆)

Oliver subdued the Holy Knight’s arm as he spoke.

“I apologize… I felt suffocated.”

But what was important wasn’t the apology or the suffocation.

The key point was that a scrawny necromancer had overpowered a Holy Knight with sheer physical strength.

It was an unbelievable sight, even though it happened right before their eyes.

A necromancer, who was just skin and bones, had subdued a Holy Knight’s body—strengthened by innate blessings and rigorous training—barehanded. It was simply impossible to believe.

Naturally, the one who found this hardest to accept was the Holy Knight being subdued.

The red-haired Holy Knight, with a mix of shame and anger, tensed his arm muscles.

Crrrk, crrrk, crrrk….

Bulging arm muscles and pulsating veins. But the more strength he applied, the more he realized he was up against Oliver’s monstrous body.

Clearly, although Oliver looked like someone who hadn’t eaten in days, his neck was as solid as a tree trunk, and his arm didn’t budge.

The Holy Knight’s body, trained to resemble that of a dragon during their classes, was being overpowered. Sturdy as an immovable mountain.

The red-haired Holy Knight, ignoring the eyes around him, desperately poured all his strength in, but Oliver just stood there, as calm as before.

Realizing something was off, the other Holy Knights quietly reached for their weapons, and the Pinkman also felt an ominous vibe and started to back away.

Just as the tension reached its peak, only Joanna made a move.

“Wait. Everyone, calm down. The important thing right now is the mission.”

“-Sir Knight.”

A voice that was detached from the situation rang out amid the suspicion, tension, and Joanna’s words.

It was Oliver’s voice. Soft as it was, it drew everyone’s attention with its strange atmosphere.

“May I have some water?”

Oliver asked as he took out his canteen. An out-of-place question silenced everyone, and Oliver added,

“I’m thirsty.”

“…..”

Of course, no one answered again until Holy Knight Anselm spoke.

“Do as you wish. If you’re thirsty, you should drink.”

“Thank you.”

As the others looked on with bewildered expressions, Oliver thanked Anselm, opened his canteen, and took a drink.

The water… *pfftt*.

Despite it being rude, Oliver spat out the water he had just taken in.

It wasn’t cold, nor was it clear anymore.

“Red?”

Someone exclaimed, shocked at the sight of the water Oliver spat out. Red water?… Everyone here knew that the water in Oliver’s canteen had been fresh and abundant, as they had all drunk from it earlier. But now, the water Oliver spat out was red, like blood.

“I apologize. It tasted like metal.”

“Metal taste?”

The Pinkman tilted their heads in confusion, unsure of what Oliver meant. But the Holy Knights, knowing well what he was implying, grew visibly tense.

The fundamental purpose of the Holy Knights was to protect humanity from demons, so they understood Oliver’s unnerving words.

It seemed that the book from the Flesh Cook was indeed genuine.

Tap.

Oliver released the red-haired Holy Knight’s arm. Trying to act nonchalant, the Holy Knight withdrew his arm but trembled slightly, as if it were aching.

“My apologies.”

Oliver apologized to the red-haired Holy Knight, then moved toward Anselm.

Noticing this, another Holy Knight stepped in front of Oliver, while the red-haired Holy Knight shouted for him to stop, gripping his axe with his trembling hand.

He looked ready to attack if Oliver didn’t halt.

“Everyone, stand down.”

At that moment, Anselm intervened, stopping the Holy Knights.

Oliver remained still and looked quietly at Anselm. Their eyes met, and though Anselm was weakened greatly by the recent battle, his gaze remained calm.

He had none of the usual confidence or arrogance typical of a Holy Knight, only serenity.

After a brief moment of eye contact, Anselm gestured for Oliver to come closer, and although confused, the other Holy Knights made way.

With his Quarterstaff tapping against the ground, Oliver moved forward through the opened path.

By now, the intestines that had covered the abandoned mine were gone, restored to their original state. With every tap of Oliver’s Quarterstaff on the ground: tap, tap.

Tap, tap, tap….

Oliver stopped in front of Anselm, knelt on one knee, and met the Holy Knight’s gaze. It was a gesture of respect.

“Is a demon being summoned?”

“I’m not sure. I never studied it deeply… All I know is that water turning red is the first of the demon’s omens (徵兆).”

Oliver replied based on the knowledge he had gained from the demon’s book. Water turning red was the first omen (徵兆), and there were nine others.

By that logic, they could consider themselves relatively lucky for now.

The scale of the disaster depended on the number of omens (徵兆). Since no frogs had appeared yet, they were at the first stage, the lowest level.

“How do you know this?”

Anselm asked as he tried to regulate his breath.

“Most people don’t even know omens (徵兆) exist, let alone the different kinds of them. This isn’t something you can just stumble upon.”

“I read it in a demon’s book.”

Oliver replied without a moment’s hesitation. He admitted that, as a necromancer, he had learned it from a demon’s book.

Just this alone gave the Holy Knights enough reason to execute Oliver on the spot. The combination of a demon’s book with a necromancer was extremely dangerous.

Yet, Anselm did not act and instead continued their conversation.

“…Is it okay to share such things?”

“If I don’t provide accurate information, how can the Holy Knights make the right judgment? Assisting the Holy Knights is my current role… Speaking of which, may I ask you something if it’s not too impertinent?”

“…?”

“Shouldn’t Sir Knight decide whether to stop the demon first instead of asking me such a question?”

Anselm’s eyes fluttered slightly.

“…You’re right.”

***

Holy Knight Anselm took Oliver’s advice seriously.

After asking Oliver to excuse him, he took some time for a meeting. Meanwhile, the Pinkman did the same among themselves.

It was only natural since it involved a demon.

Dealing with a demon was almost mythic, something from a distant past that had all but vanished.

In fact, some of the Pinkman still couldn’t believe in the demon’s descent. They didn’t seem to grasp the seriousness of the situation.

Learning that a dragon was flying and burning a neighbor’s house while you slept and woke up the next day—that was how surreal it felt.

However, seeing the Holy Knights’ serious demeanor and Oliver’s expressionless reaction, it was not something they could easily dismiss.

For the record, Oliver was standing off alone in a distant corner, far away.

After all, Oliver’s mere existence was considered ominous given the ongoing discussions of Fen’s demon summoning.

On top of that, Oliver’s shadow was slithering and moving as if alive.

“Your shadow… Is it okay?”

Joanna approached Oliver and asked.

“I think it should be fine for now.”

“You think?”

“Yes… I’m not exactly sure myself either.”

Indeed, even Oliver had no clear understanding of what was happening with his shadow.

During the confrontation with the Flesh Cook, vast amounts of emotions, life force, and dark energy had been absorbed by Oliver’s shadow, but the reason remained unclear.

Perhaps it was due to the sheer volume accumulated over hundreds of years, or the shadow’s high conductivity toward emotions and life force.

What was certain was that all of the Flesh Cook’s energy was now stored in Oliver’s shadow.

Up until this point, things were manageable. Despite the overwhelming energy within, it hadn’t caused any significant disruptions unless Oliver provoked it somehow.

But now, things were different.

Perhaps because Oliver had consumed a large number of creatures made from human souls, his shadow was undergoing some structural changes.

Though it didn’t seem too severe, the fact that it was changing at all was the important point, and it needed to be observed closely.

‘My shadow, after absorbing the massive energy from the Flesh Cook, now has Fen’s creatures added to it…’

Although Oliver was not well-versed in the branch of necromancy focused on creation, whatever it was, Oliver was still an exceptional necromancer.

He expected that the emotions, experiences, and souls that Fen’s creatures carried might cause his shadow to transform into a creature.

Necromancy was complex and ambiguous, and sometimes when conditions were right, something could create itself spontaneously.

A prime example being Disease-Weakness Death Magic. In an environment filled with corpses and filth, even a small amount of Disease-Weakness could turn into a disaster. There was no rule saying creation-based necromancy couldn’t work the same way.

“So, is it dangerous?”

“Yes, if something is created naturally instead of by the necromancer’s will, it becomes unpredictable and can be uncontrollable depending on the case. Especially some creatures have strong free will.”

“Shouldn’t you get rid of it?”

Joanna asked, her voice filled with concern. She had a point. Right now, it was still within Oliver’s control to dispel it.

The problem was, Oliver didn’t want to.

Safety was important, yes, but curiosity was just as important.

Oliver was genuinely intrigued. What kind of creature would emerge from this fusion of the Flesh Cook’s emotions, life force, dark power, and Fen’s creatures within his shadow?

For someone lacking in imagination and creativity, this might be the best method for creating a creature.

Of course, such an approach carried risks and unpredictability, but the curiosity and excitement were just as great. Enough to wager his own safety.

Joanna, sensing Oliver’s thoughts, looked at him with a mix of shock and concern, questioning if he was in his right mind.

“Are you serious?”

“Ah… Well… By the way, Miss Joanna, is it okay for you to be here? The other knights are in a meeting right now.”

Oliver attempted to change the subject.

Joanna turned her head to glance at the Holy Knights.

“… It’s probably better that I’m not there.”

“Huh? Ah… Yes, sorry.”

Oliver apologized belatedly, realizing he had stepped on a sensitive issue. He didn’t know all the details, but the Holy Knights had figured out that Oliver was familiar with Joanna.

A Holy Knight and a necromancer.

It was quite a serious problem. Even if they completed the mission successfully and returned, it would still be an issue.

“Don’t worry about it. Mr. Dave, it’s not your fault.”

“But-”

“-Really, it’s okay… But, if it’s not too much, could I ask you something?”

“A question?”

“Yes.”

Joanna’s sudden request made Oliver look at her emotions. Her fear, curiosity, and desperation intertwined. She wanted to know something, to prepare herself for a possible catastrophe.

“What are you curious about?”

“Will you help us? With stopping the demon’s summoning.”

“Yes, that’s my job.”

“Hmmm… How did you get the demon’s book?”

“In Gallos.”

Joanna asked empty questions, and Oliver answered them honestly. Though it didn’t satisfy her.

“Miss Joanna.”

“Yes?”

“I may be overstepping my bounds, and if I’m wrong, I apologize… But could you ask what you really want to know?”

“….”

“I’m curious too.”

Oliver’s words made Joanna’s emotions ripple slightly, and her true question finally emerged.

“… If I may ask, what did you do after we parted at the cathedral?”

The cathedral. There was only one cathedral Joanna could be referring to.

Oliver almost answered immediately but instead recollected the emotions Joanna had shown back then, the current situation, and his own worries.

“Hmm… ”

“Why… Do you ask?”

“Miss Joanna, would it be okay if I answered once the mission is over?”

“Why…?”

“The explanation might be long, and there’s something I want to ask you as well… Besides, we need to move now.”

Oliver pointed politely at the Holy Knights behind Joanna. They had just finished their meeting.

“We’ve made our decision. We will fulfill our mission.”

Anselm led the Holy Knights as he spoke. It wasn’t surprising; all the Holy Knights had already resolved to stop the demon.

They were simply confirming their determination, resolving themselves, and planning their tactic.

“Have the Pinkman made their decision?”

“We will join you.”

On behalf of the Pinkman, who had lost a significant number of their ranks in the earlier battle, Ricky responded. With all their leaders dead, Ricky was now in charge due to his rank.

“Are you sure about this?”

Oliver asked in surprise. The Holy Knights were doing their duty with the protection of Holy Power, but the Pinkman were not bound by such duties.

Honestly, with the intestines that had surrounded the mine now gone, Oliver had expected them to leave.

“The Pinkman honor their contracts.”

Ricky answered simply. He radiated a sense of personal resolve, a principle, and even a bit of pride. It was quite admirable.

“Understood.”

“Before we move, may I ask just one thing?”

Anselm called out to Oliver.

“…? Of course, ask away.”

“Are you truly not connected to Fen in any way?”

“Yes.”

“Very well, then let’s move out.”

Without a moment’s hesitation, Holy Knight Anselm responded and began leading the way.

***

Woof! Woof! Woof! Grrr….

“Oh dear, what’s wrong with him?”

Prometheus Corp’s headquarters, where the shareholders’ meeting was underway.

An old, wealthy woman seated at one of the grand long tables spoke.

Her name was Katherine Bingley. She was the head of a prestigious noble family that still managed to maintain its dignity even as capitalists, magicians, and the new class took over and the influence of the nobility waned.

To explain how much land she owned, how much influence she held in noble society, or how many relatives eyed her inheritance would take a considerable amount of time, but that wasn’t important right now.

What mattered was that at this key moment—when Edward X was being chosen as the new director of Prometheus Corp—her pet had suddenly begun barking.

It was alarming, so intense it seemed the dog might have a seizure.

Despite her high status and many noble allies on her side, she couldn’t help but feel self-conscious, especially in front of Edward X’s proxy, a brown-haired boy sitting among them.

In the end, unable to bear the awkwardness, Katherine used a last resort.

She activated the magical collar around the dog, shocking it into unconsciousness.

“Ah, now it’s quiet.”

She shamelessly spoke with indifference, as if it were someone else’s problem.

Maybe that was indeed for the best.

Most people in the room didn’t know, but by now, every animal in the city was having similar fits.

Horses were neighing frantically, jumping around like mad, trying to loosen their harnesses. Pigs were banging against their pens in an attempt to escape, and dogs were barking furiously, ready to bite anyone who approached.

But perhaps the strangest thing was the rats. They were all fleeing either inland or throwing themselves into the sea.

As if escaping the city was their only concern.

Given the dark, cloudy sky, this strange phenomenon made people even more uneasy, but those gathered to select the new director of Prometheus Corp remained unaware.

The chairman conducting the shareholders’ meeting cleared his throat.

“Ahem, ahem… Sorry, everyone. Let’s resume the meeting—”

“—What, what’s this?”

After the dogs went mad, it was the people’s turn.

The chairman, being a professional, didn’t show it outwardly, but he felt irritation as he turned to look at the source of the commotion.

“What in the world…?”

As the chairman turned his head, his face froze in disbelief.

The teapot and cup that held the tea had turned red, and countless frogs were leaping out of them. It was an unbelievable sight.

One frog sat atop the teapot and met the chairman’s gaze.

Ribbit.