The Soldier Shouted Save

Chapter 12

The dagger’s icy blade swung toward the village chief.

The village chief’s expression changed.

A face struck with terror.

That face vanished without a trace and transformed into a blank expression.

“Ha.”

The village chief laughed, as if in disbelief.

This guy was the mastermind.

There was no need to think further.

I would end his life right here and now.

I adjusted the dagger’s trajectory.

Avoiding the arm that the village chief raised to block, I aimed for his neck.

Clang.

With a short metallic sound, my dagger was deflected.

It wasn’t the village chief who blocked the attack.

The one who deflected my dagger was a skeleton.

Clatter.

It’s only weapon was a longsword.

But every joint of its bones was engraved with magical symbols.

“Impressive. Honestly, I thought it was perfect.”

His appearance began to change.

He was no longer the hunched-over old man.

His height was about 170 cm, and he looked to be in his 30s.

A young man, without a doubt.

‘This isn’t his true form either.’

Both his old and young forms couldn’t be trusted.

He was a necromancer.

An expert in manipulating corpses.

Peeling the skin off a dead person’s face and covering his own with it would be nothing for him.

“Tell me, how did you know? Do you possess a relic that sees through lies?”

Clatter.

The skeleton pointed its longsword at me.

I wasn’t afraid of death.

With a slight chuckle at the ridiculous threat, I replied.

“Who would trust a black magician to begin with?”

He nodded, seemingly convinced by my words.

“I see. So it’s not like with the hero, huh? Now that I’ve been discovered, I suppose I’ll have to give up on making you into the ‘perfect skeleton.'”

“…Perfect skeleton?”

His chilling gaze swept over my body.

“It’s a good body… I’m sure the bones inside must be exquisite, too.”

His words sent a jolt through me.

He didn’t even consider the possibility of being attacked.

This was my chance.

I grasped the dagger in my hand and pushed off the ground.

Got him.

He didn’t react.

But—

‘Ugh!’

The pain I had momentarily forgotten surged through me.

But I couldn’t stop now.

“S-stop him!”

He shouted in panic.

The skeleton, holding its longsword, moved its bones swiftly.

Its sword was fast.

But I could see it clearly.

If I squeezed out the last bit of strength, I could dodge the strike.

But what would happen afterward, when I had used up all my strength?

The pain I felt meant that the Red Potion’s effect had already worn off.

If I bent my body to dodge the skeleton’s sword, I wouldn’t be able to get up and would collapse onto the ground.

So, I didn’t dodge.

Shhhk.

The skeleton’s sword pierced through my body.

The necromancer’s face twisted into an angry frown.

“Damn it! You can’t die now….”

I heard his panicked voice.

Cough.

Thick blood spilled from my mouth.

This life was already over.

It wasn’t too bad.

I squeezed every last ounce of life I had left, using it as fuel to move my body.

Shhhk.

With the sword still embedded in my abdomen, I threw my dagger.

“W-what!”

In a panic, he reached out and conjured a black shield.

But he hadn’t expected my move, and his reaction was slow.

Swish.

The thrown dagger grazed his cheek.

He shouted frantically.

“K-kill him!!”

The skeleton pulled the sword from my abdomen.

Then it swung at my chest again.

Whip!

The slash drenched my entire body in blood.

My vision fell to the ground.

“Aargh, damn it! To refuse to become my masterpiece? You fool! …No choice, then. I’ll have to test combining your bones with a monster’s.”

My consciousness grew faint.

His presence grew closer.

“How about it? Aren’t you looking forward to it?”

I could foresee the future.

‘In this life, I’ll become a skeleton.’

My skin would rot away, leaving only bare bones, enslaved by him.

That would be the case, if this were a typical situation without a save point.

“Next… time….”

I spat out thick blood as I spoke.

He laughed in disbelief.

“Next? What’s a dying man talking about next? Are you going to get revenge as a skeleton? On me, a necromancer?”

He looked down at me with a mocking smile.

I mimicked his smirk and spoke.

“Next… life….”

My consciousness was fading.

But I made sure to enunciate the last word clearly.

“I’ll kill you.”

* * *

― You have died from the skeleton’s attack. [Confirm]

― Loading from the auto-save. [Confirm]

― Hint: Rescue your companions. [Confirm]

I returned once again.

“Are you perhaps the hero who’s come to visit Dane Village?”

A man from the village spoke to me.

Ordinary clothes, an ordinary face, an ordinary voice, but he wasn’t human.

I now knew his true identity.

‘A zombie….’

It was flawless.

Even looking at him now, I couldn’t tell whether he was a zombie or not.

But his body was cold.

That wasn’t all.

His monstrous strength, and the ‘strange looks’ from the village people, now made sense, assuming they were all zombies.

I was watching them, but they were staring into space.

Because they were zombies.

I hadn’t come close enough to trigger their ‘pattern,’ so they were in ‘standby’ mode.

“Are you alright? Hey! Someone get the village chief!”

A perfect conversation that no ordinary zombie could manage.

I had no choice but to acknowledge it.

This guy was a genius necromancer.

‘Should I run?’

Though it was hard to take even a single step, if I drank the Red Potion in my bag and ran, I could make it to another village.

But—

Tap. Tap. Tap.

The figure, looking to be in his 80s with a white beard and hair, walking hunched over and leaning on a staff, wasn’t the village chief.

He was the necromancer.

There was no way I could escape from him.

…There was only one option.

“Your arm.”

Suddenly, the necromancer, who had approached me, pointed to my arm with his staff.

I offered it without resistance.

A purple light from his hand enveloped my arm.

“Impressive work. The skin is dead, but the inside has already healed. Is there… a priest nearby, perhaps?”

“I was healed, but the priest left before I regained consciousness. Did a priest not come to the village?”

I had to make him believe.

“A woman who looked like a priest did stop by, but after gathering a few things in the village, she left.”

I had to make sure he was confident that no more priests would visit the village.

“Didn’t you cross paths with her on your way here?”

“We must have missed each other.”

The necromancer’s natural enemy.

Seeing my healed body, he worried about the possibility of a new priest, but now he was reassured.

Now, all of his worries were gone.

I was not a hero.

There was no priest nearby.

To him, I was merely a “material” needed to create a skeleton.

That was how he would see me.

So…

“Hmm… As I thought earlier, you have a fine body.”

He blatantly spewed those words.

He wasn’t looking at my muscles or my physique.

It was the bones inside.

He was already lost in thoughts about turning my body into a skeleton.

It was disgusting.

“If the priest knew you disappeared, she’d return here, so why don’t you rest in our village tonight?”

He was wrong.

The priest would not come back here.

Because she was already in this village.

I silently followed him as he led me along.

He, with his fake village chief face, even offered to heal me.

“Thank you.”

I expressed my gratitude sincerely.

I wasn’t the only one acting.

I had to pretend to be prey as well.

The village chief stopped walking ahead of me.

I knew why.

“You’ll be staying here tonight.”

The building he pointed to was all too familiar.

Just looking at the exterior, I could almost see the inside of the room.

“You don’t seem to be in good condition, so let’s heal you tomorrow. Here, take this.”

He handed me a Red Potion.

“Thank you.”

As I accepted the potion without hesitation, he smiled faintly.

“Rest well, then.”

Unlike last time, when he kept watch until I drank the entire potion, the situation had changed.

The village chief walked away without any suspicion.

It was only natural.

I had accepted his kindness without question.

He probably felt it too—there was no need to come back now.

The immediate danger had passed.

But questions remained unanswered.

The necromancer hadn’t killed me outright.

If he had wanted to, he could have done it several times since I passed through the village gates.

The fact that he didn’t meant he wanted something from me.

He had staged a pointless act, pretending to save me from a skeleton under his control.

‘Why did he say the priest was a necromancer?’

I knew he was trying to deceive me.

But why?

What was it that he was so desperate to gain from me?

‘Trust?’

For some reason, he wanted to gain my trust.

‘But why…?’

In my previous life, I had met my end.

I was probably turned into a skeleton after that death.

If so, something didn’t add up.

What difference was there between a skeleton that “trusted” the necromancer and one that didn’t?

In the end, a skeleton would lose all “memories of its human life.”

‘Perfect skeleton?’

One of the things he said crossed my mind.

He had said he was giving up on making me a “perfect skeleton.”

He said that right after his identity was revealed.

‘Does that mean a skeleton that doesn’t trust him is a failure?’

He placed a lot of importance on memories.

But why?

A thought crossed my mind.

I dismissed it as impossible—but just in case…

‘…What if the skeletons remember their human lives?’

[The first path of fate guides your growth.]

A skeleton that trusts the black magician.

Why was he trying to create such a skeleton?

‘Is it because skeletons that remember their human lives try to break free of his control? Is he attempting something new because of that?’

It was different from a normal skeleton that moved like a beast.

A skeleton with memories of its human life would possess remarkable skills.

But if a skeleton had memories of its human life, if it could think for itself, it would never choose to be a slave to a necromancer.

The skeleton would want to kill the one controlling it and regain its freedom.

But skeletons with memories couldn’t kill the necromancer.

‘It’s easy for a necromancer to place restrictions on skeletons.’

The skeletons had realized something.

They couldn’t kill the necromancer with “their own” thoughts.

‘Is that why he led me here?’

When would the necromancer, who controlled skeletons with just his thoughts, not be in control?

When the necromancer slept.

At dawn.

‘So that’s why they came to me at dawn?’

The pieces fit together.

Now, the course of action was clear.

Wait.

This time, I didn’t stay up aimlessly.

Whether it was five minutes or ten, I needed to recover, even a little.

So, even if I couldn’t fall asleep, I closed my eyes.

There was no worry about not waking up in time.

At dawn, an “alarm” would sound.

* * *

How much time had passed since I closed my eyes?

Knock. Knock. Knock.

There was a loud knock on the door.

They had arrived.

I grabbed the Red Potion and my backpack and stepped outside.

Clatter.

There stood a skeleton.

Pitiful and wretched.

These creatures still had memories of their human lives.

How despairing must it have been?

Unable to die as they wished, their bodies reduced to mere bones.

Even their actions are restricted by the necromancer, unable to speak properly.

How long had they lived in that despair?

Clatter.

The skeleton in front of me stretched out its arm and pointed in a direction.

It wasn’t the necromancer’s will.

It was its “own” will.

But even with that will, they couldn’t escape the necromancer.

Even in death, they wouldn’t be freed.

Their bones could crumble, but their souls would return to the necromancer.

They would just be transferred into new bones, becoming a new skeleton.

That’s why they led me.

To that place.

Before he woke from his slumber.

Clatter.

A multitude of skeletons made a path.

Were they worried I wouldn’t know the way?

Worried I might get confused?

That I might go somewhere else?

Driven by such fears, the skeletons created a path.

The place that path led to was the skeletons’ only hope.

The place where someone could finally release them from the life they had endured for countless years as skeletons.

There was only one way for a skeleton to be saved.

Holy magic.

For their souls not to return to the necromancer and for them to experience a true death, they needed to die by holy magic.

That was why they guided me here.

To the one who could use holy magic.

To “her.”

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