Chapter 7

Chapter 07: The Ego Sword Picked Me Up (7)

Spirit Invocation

“Phew, is it all over?”

Just as I was about to collapse where I stood, I heard Flambeju’s concerned voice.

―Master, are you all right?

“Yes, I’m fine. I’m a little injured, but it’s not enough to kill me right away.”

―No, I was asking if it does not hurt. Other masters would have been flooded with pain around this point.

“Pain?”

Was it because the tension had loosened? Or had Flambeju perhaps exerted his ability on me while I fought so fiercely?

The terrible agony I had forgotten as if drugged rushed in all at once.

It was pain beyond what a human could bear. It was because I had used my body to its limits while fighting.

“Guhah!”

―That is why I told you not to overdo it. Every ability comes with backlash! One without the ability to endure it must not use a sacred object recklessly!

Backlash from abilities did not appear only for artifact users.

Sacred objects also forced a human’s abilities beyond their limits, and after using the body recklessly like now, a price had to be paid.

Even the Achievement I had obtained this time, “One Who Awakened the Form of a Sacred Object,” had warned that if I changed a sacred object excessively, “Abyssal Backlash” could occur.

For a while, I could not regain my senses.

The fact that not a single Lizardman remained to cut off my breath was the one blessing amid misfortune.

‘This is horrible…… Damn it.’

***

When I came to my senses again, I was surrounded by the dimness and chill of dawn. A disgusting smell came from the hospital gown soaked in sweat and blood.

GRRRRMBLE!

Hunger also surged in.

I searched the Lizardmen’s corpses, but I found nothing edible. There did not seem to be anything worth money either.

Grok Naal, which had been the red helmet, had also split in half and lost its energy.

“Can’t this be used again?”

―Of course not!

“That’s a little disappointing.”

―W-What are you saying? Master only needs me! Do not even cast your eyes on other demonic objects or sacred objects!

Flambeju hopped about and threw a fit.

―……Offer it. Life force…….

Grok Naal’s voice could be heard faintly. It repeated the same words like a broken recorder.

The moment I tried to pick up the split red helmet, black energy approached me.

―Yoooouuu bastard! Whose body do you think you dare lay your hands on?!

Regardless of Flambeju’s shout, the black energy dispersed without being able to touch me. Perhaps because the master-servant relationship between Flambeju and me was firm, there was no room for Grok Naal to interfere.

Grab.

―It is filthy! Let go! Dirty! Throw it away! Master, such things are not to be touched carelessly!

Flambeju caused a scene, but Grok Naal itself showed no reaction. No, its energy could not exert any influence over me.

“Can I change this too?”

It was when I supported the split red helmet with both hands and focused.

―Do not waste your effort! That is not even a sacred object, and changing form according to the master is a unique privilege granted only to this great…… Huuuuh?!

Flambeju’s solemn expression looked as if it were melting away. Not only did he fall over in surprise, he scooted backward on his backside.

―W-What in the world? What did you do?

The red helmet’s color turned black. And the split parts joined seamlessly.

That did not mean Grok Naal’s essence had changed. It was still an artifact, a derivative of a demonic object that repeated ominous sounds.

―Worship. Revere. Offer your life force. I shall grant you victory.

“Did I fix it for no reason? It’s noisy.”

As if it understood my words, the artifact’s voice ceased.

I tucked it at my waist. I could not bring myself to wear it on my face.

‘So backlash occurs when transforming artifacts too.’

My fingertips were numb. It was not enough to interfere with daily life, but I did not think I could fight right away.

‘The highest priority is training so I can adapt to every backlash.’

I set one more short-term goal.

Then I examined the other things.

Among the Lizardmen’s possessions, there was nothing worth money.

“But these…… why are they so shriveled up? As if all their blood was sucked out.”

―It is the Necronomicon’s doing. Master, try stopping that thing! It does not listen to me at all!

“That thing again? Can it suck blood on its own even without my orders?”

The Necronomicon lay alone among the pile of corpses. Unlike before, when it had given off a stale smell, the Necronomicon’s leather now gleamed.

It even looked as if it had drunk plenty of blood and grown plump.

Unlike Flambeju, the Necronomicon had no relationship with me whatsoever. Far from being subordinate to me, it had not formed any contract with me either. From my perspective, the Necronomicon was no more than a book, and I simply found it strange that it absorbed blood.

FLIP, FLIP, FLIP!

When I touched it, the Necronomicon’s cover opened by itself. Its pages turned, revealing a single page.

―Abdul Alhazard. Humanity’s first necromancer, who learned necromancy from an evil god, leaves this record.

It was an old diary. It was from so long ago that I could not even estimate when it had been written. It was not even a language I knew.

And yet, I understood those words perfectly. It was thanks to the Achievement “Star Realm’s First Dimensional Transfer.”

‘Necromancer? Is that something like a mage?’

―The foundation of necromantic secret arts is necromancy. To connect life and death, a special power that connects the two worlds is necessary. This is called magic power.

The Necronomicon was a grimoire from Earth. Whether its theories would work even in this world was unknown. No, the fact that a grimoire and arts had existed on Earth in the first place was hard to believe.

I tossed the Necronomicon to one side. There were still plenty of corpses there whose blood had not yet been sucked out.

―Master, do not get close to such a blasphemous thing! By nature, all beings entangled with demonic objects or the Demon God come to filthy ends!

I could not agree with Flambeju.

Real devils did not approach in wicked forms. They approached humans in the most alluring forms. Just like Secretary Kwak, who had pulled me out of the orphanage.

Several strands of black energy extending from the Necronomicon stabbed into the surrounding corpses and devoured their blood without hesitation.

―I clearly warned you, Master!

Fortunately, Flambeju did not badger me. If he tried saying something a few times and it did not work, he did not try to persuade me any further. Because I was his master.

“I need the Necronomicon. I have to pay this thing a price to glimpse the secrets of the world.”

Obtaining information by connecting to the Akashic Records was not free.

Until now, I had known only that “I had to offer sacrifices to Yog-Sothoth through the Necronomicon,” but I had not known what to offer or how.

It was when the Necronomicon had swallowed all the blood from more than 100 corpses.

New letters appeared on the page that had been blank until just now.

―Spirit Invocation.

As Flambeju had said, the necromantic secret art felt ominous even to me.

It was because it touched the reverse side of “death.”

A long explanation followed about “spirit invocation,” which could be called a representative art of the necromantic secret arts.

Spirit invocation was an art that summoned dead spirits who had crossed the threshold of death. To do this, it borrowed the power of a divine existence, and that existence was “Yog-Sothoth.”

“Is calling the souls of the dead black magic?”

―Of course! That is what one could call the representative form of black magic!

“I wasn’t asking you, Flambeju.”

―Then…….

At that moment, a heavy voice sounded inside my head. I had connected to the Akashic Records and uncovered a secret of the world.

―Necromantic secret arts are forbidden applied arts that branched off from necromancy. They separate and bind soul, flesh, and will, forming a circuit that connects the two worlds, life and death, upon the trajectory of the dead. Thus, necromantic secret arts open a door that crosses boundaries and become tools that regulate the order beyond death. Yet their essence is always in contact with danger, so do not lose awe.

Perhaps because it was drenched in blood, the information contained in the Akashic Records appeared one after another.

―Spirit invocation is a necromantic secret art that calls forth the souls of the dead. Through a medium connected to the soul, it can call only the souls of those under Yog-Sothoth’s regulation. A invoked soul manifests in the form of a half-spirit and can exert a certain degree of physical force, but if it receives a significant blow, it shall be returned to its original world. However, a soul that has not been extinguished may be summoned again at any time, so the door of return remains open.

The short passage that suddenly surfaced contained far too many secrets.

‘What exactly does a soul under Yog-Sothoth’s jurisdiction mean? Does it mean I can only call souls from other dimensions?’

The Necronomicon was a grimoire brought from Earth. No matter how impressive the contents inside it were, if they did not apply in this world, there was no reason to carry around something so heavy.

Along with the explanation of spirit invocation, the Necronomicon also contained the incantation to realize it. However, it was written in a language completely different from the explanation above.

“O dead spirit who has crossed the threshold of death, O vengeful soul who yearns for life.”

What came from my mouth was not Korean. It was not this world’s language either, and it did not even seem like a human language.

As the words were spoken, they shook the surrounding air. Hearing that sound, Flambeju looked back at me in shock, but he could not bring himself to stop me. It was because of the strange light flowing from the Necronomicon.

That light wrapped around the longsword in my hand, Flambeju.

“……O Viceroy lurking at the boundary. Here, I command you: become the shadow of a world filled with light. Necromantic secret art, Spirit Invocation!”

The words became light, and the light formed a circular magic circle. A magic circle filled with geometric patterns surrounded me, Flambeju, and the Necronomicon.

―W-What are you trying to do? Why are you digging through my memories? No! If you touch that carelessly……. Absolutely not! Noooooo!

The necromantic secret art succeeded. The hazy white light flickering before me was the proof.

A vague light seemed to flicker in the air above the magic circle, then the cluster of light slowly formed a shape and turned human.

I had used Flambeju as a medium to call forth the soul of the dead.

―Baluka the Massacrer! You summoned that lunatic who massacred 10,000 innocent commoners? Are you in your right mind?

“I summoned Baluka the Massacrer? Who is that?”

―Did you call, Master?

There was one person I could guess. Among Flambeju’s former masters, there had been a villain who established the Achievement “Massacre of 10,000 Innocent Commoners.”

The cruel murderer who had killed 10,000 innocent commoners greeted me politely.

Contrary to the horrifying title, Baluka was a boy with an innocent, gentle impression.

At most, he looked to be in his mid-to-late teens, and judging by his appearance, he seemed unlikely to know anything about the world, let alone murder.

‘So this is a dead spirit!’

Dead spirits were different from ordinary ghosts.

A soul summoned through spirit invocation gained physical force as a half-spirit, but in exchange, it could also disappear from physical attacks.

If the spirit dwelling in Flambeju was an existence glittering with golden light, then the dead spirit Baluka was a dull ashen color. No, not a single handful of light could be found in him.

“Baluka, can you hold this sword?”