“And they apparently killed one of the Twelve Corpses.”
“Did her holy knight seem capable of that to you?”
“I wonder.” Although he was pretty skilled for a holy knight, we were undead. Just like I had Bone Sword Generation and Pestilent Fire, he should have had at least two abilities of his own. Actually, that meant the Twelve Corpses had become the Ten Corpses in the blink of an eye. “Anyway, let’s head back. I’ll walk you to your room.”
“All right.” The three of us headed back to the dorms together, where the princess and I parted ways with Palu and returned to our room.
“What’s wrong, Princess? You’ve been quiet this whole time.” Despite it being night, our living room was still faintly lit. A fist-sized manastone was hanging from the ceiling, emitting a pale light. They were quite valuable, so there was only one in each dorm room.
“Albert.”
“Hm?”
“Lady Nemophila’s holy knight was one of the Twelve Corpses, wasn’t he?” So that was what had been weighing on her mind: a holy woman who’d lost her knight and a mysterious new holy knight. Then that pair had suddenly taken down one of the Twelve Corpses. Given the blue-haired holy knight’s attitude toward me and Nemophila’s interest in me, she had probably been able to surmise that much.
“How intelligent you are, my master.” The princess trudged over to the sofa and sat down with a pensive look on her face. I sat across the table from her. “Is Nemophila related to you or something?” If that were the case, she might also have been familiar with the magic used to restore my body.
“No, our families have no connection. Of course, it’s possible you may find some relation if you go back far enough, but nothing major.” At the very least, the princess didn’t know anything.
“Then who within your family knows about that magic?”
“All the heads of the family, myself, and my sister. None of us would ever let that information leak.”
“Then maybe one of the previous heads of the family leaked something? Or...”
“Or what?”
“Maybe someone in Nemophila’s family worked with the witch.”
The princess’s face went blank, as though she couldn’t believe it. “Worked with the witch?” she mumbled to herself.
“I mean, I don’t know that for sure, but the Eternal Witch was originally human, right? It’s not too far-fetched to think she had research partners, friends, investors—stuff like that.”
“Now that you mention it, you may have a point.”
“Guess we can just ask her when we meet.” She had specifically agreed to meet us, so I was confident she would get in touch. The princess nodded, then looked at me.
“What do you make of those two?”
“Nemophila’s cute, though something seems off about her. Now, I don’t really have a problem with that, but still, it’s better to have a healthy mind—”
“Nobody asked for your preferences. Do you want me to curse you?”
After doing our usual “I’m already cursed” bit, I continued. “Anyway, there’s a lot I wanna ask her, so I think meeting them is a good idea. That said, I’m against fighting alongside them.”
“May I ask why?”
“They’re hiding something.”
“Lady Palustris said that Nemophila’s personality seemed to have changed.”
“She definitely hasn’t recovered from the death of her first holy knight.”
“While it’s unacceptable that he attacked you, the second holy knight did seem to obey Lady Nemophila. She also said we were like them.” I knew what the princess was getting at.
“You think they made a passionate promise to spend their lives together like we did?” The princess blushed at my deliberate wording. She scowled at me, then finally relented and agreed.
“Yes! I do!” She was as cute as ever.
“Did it look like they trust each other to you?”
“Well...” It was clear that Nemophila only saw him as a pawn, yet the blue-haired knight obeyed her with blind devotion. It was a pretty messed up master-servant relationship.
“I’d rather not be compared to him.”
“Because you’re a better swordsman than he is?”
“No— Well, I am, but that’s not why. Did you forget what you told me before?”
“What are you referring to?”
“I was the only one of the Twelve Corpses who killed all the curions in their Forbidden City.” That was what she’d told me the day we first met. “I don’t know why he’s obeying Nemophila, but I can say for sure that he didn’t start out as a holy knight like me.”
Even in the Forbidden Cities governed privately and not by the kingdom, it wasn’t possible to completely block access to saints. It was publicly known that the Skeleton Sword Saint was an exception that had exterminated all the other undead in his city. The nine cities managed by nobles still had a minimal level of information shared about them, and aside from my city, there were no others where all the curions had been wiped out.
Despite having three centuries to do so, that blue-haired asshole hadn’t killed all the curions in his city. Of course, it was possible that he had a reason for not doing so, like Hector the Pestilent Guardian Dragon.
“Indeed, you’re not the same.”
“Does Nemophila belong to a noble family that manages one of the Forbidden Cities?”
“Yes, her family manages the Forbidden City where the Grave Keeper of the Golden City resides.” The Golden City wasn’t named that because it was actually made of gold—it was because it was famous for its beautiful flowers that were compared to gold when they blossomed. Even after the city was overrun by undead, those flowers had never withered. On the contrary, they had begun to fill the city.
The Grave Keeper of the Golden City was said to only be interested in two things: a poorly made grave he seemed to have built himself and tending to those golden flowers. Like the Pestilent Guardian Dragon, he was considered one of the least threatening of the Twelve Corpses. He would only attack when provoked. That explained why his skills were only “pretty good.” He wasn’t interested in anything besides maintaining that grave, so he hadn’t practiced his swordsmanship. The question now was how had he escaped the city, and why was he hunting other curions?
“Not much of a grave keeper if he abandons his post.”