“Now all of us here can finally return to the goddess,” she said.
“Ah, can that wait a little longer?” Vandal asked. “We would very much appreciate your help in rescuing those of your people still being held at the slave mine.”
“You would? Appreciate what, exactly? I fear there isn’t much I can do.”
“You won’t have to do much,” Eleonora said. “We want you to cooperate with Lord Vandal and show yourself to the living giantlings, that is all.”
It went without saying that the giantlings currently held at the slave mine didn’t know anything about Vandal or modern Talosheim. Furthermore, Death Attribute Allure would not work on them, so they probably wouldn’t believe him if he said he had come from Talosheim to rescue them.
Even if Zulan, Borkz, and the other undead giantlings tried to persuade them, Vandal wasn’t sure how effective it would be. They might believe close family members or relatives, but undead with no deep relation to them could easily be written off as crazy undead.
Showing them Lefdia wouldn’t work, as Princess Lebia herself hadn’t been able to confirm the hand belonged to her sister. The teachings of the Goddess Vida were lenient on undead, but they also didn’t say to love and obey them no matter what.
Of course, they could ignore the feelings of the slaves, force them to go to Talosheim, and resolve the misunderstanding that way, but any unexpected resistance might lead to injuries or even deaths. Vandal didn’t want that. He could, of course, turn anyone who died into undead, but it seemed better to find a way that did not involve anyone dying.
That was where Princess Lebia came in. She had led her people 200 years ago. Even as a ghost, Vandal was sure her words would reach them.
“They should at least listen to you,” Vandal said.
“The words of the one who failed to save them? I am not so convinced. I also have little, in rage or anything else, holding me to this world any longer. We have been saved. I’m sure your son will be able to free the slaves without my aid—”
“S-son?! Ah, no, I’m not Lord Vandal’s mother—!” Eleonora stammered.
Vandal cut Eleonora off and continued. “Are you okay with that?”
“With . . . what, exactly?” Lebia asked.
“Forgiving them so easily? The ones who killed you, killed your guards, and sealed you away for 200 years. The ones who captured your remaining people and have worked them to the bone for those same 200 years. Don’t you wish to bring down your anger, hatred . . . your wrath upon them?”
“I mean . . .” Her voice trembled.
The other giantling phantoms looked equally shaken. When they were killed 200 years ago and learned that the living had been taken to the slave mine, they had indeed been filled with anger and hatred and wrath at the Heartner house. They cursed the betrayal, swore to never forget their grudge, and clung to dreams of vengeance. It had been so bad that they had even responded to the scant magical power of the Demon King and turned into phantoms.
“Revenge doesn’t—”
“Revenge is justified,” Vandal said. “In this case, especially. I’m not suggesting you hit the people living today with your grudge from 200 years ago. I’m suggesting you hit them with your grudge from today.”
Vandal looked Lebia and the others right in the face as he spoke. He wanted them to feel the anger, hatred, and wrath that he was feeling; he wanted them to call forth their own hatred and feelings of powerlessness.
“You should be angry and hate them and hold a grudge. If you’re a living being, that’s how it would be. You were betrayed by someone you trusted. Killed and defiled. Those you cared about were captured unjustly and put to work for 200 years. You would be insane if you didn’t have powerful feelings about that.”
“Yes . . . but . . .”
“When you realized you had been poisoned. When your guards were killed. When you were burned. What did you feel?”
“What did . . . I feel?” Lebia groaned. “Ah! What did I feel?!”
“There should still be hatred, anger, and pain inside you. Allow it to flare up again now.”
“Inside me . . .”
“Our anger . . .”
“My . . . HATRED!” Even some random phantoms whom this had nothing to do with were getting a bit worked up, but Vandal pressed his point home.
“Please, lend us that strength. Help us to take back what was taken away.” As he finished, he heard a grating sound like sparks, and then light and heat burst out in the darkened crypt.
“I remember now!” Princess Lebia roared. “Now anger! My hatred! I cannot pass on without bringing this grudge to bear! Let us sally forth, my people!” She was burning. Not in a metaphorical sense, either—she was literally burning. Her previously frail-looking spirit body was a shimmering red, with clearly defined lines so that even the details of her face could be seen. She looked like a goddess of fire, with flaming long hair and a burning dress.
Acquired the skill Necromancy Magic!
“That’s right! They’re both right!”
“We cannot fade away until we bring calamity to the Heartner house that so wronged us!”
“They will pay for using me then casting me aside! The maids know all your secrets! Raaaagh!”
Besides the giantlings, others who had fallen victim to Heartner’s schemes in various ways were also swearing revenge. Vandal didn’t concern himself with that. Still, all the ghosts in the crypt were burning as though on fire.
“Did they rank up? Why?!” Zulan exclaimed, looking around. “Well, no matter. It looks like Princess Lebia and the others are sticking around.”