After Nefthis returned, Simon had the busiest week in his entire life.
Richard, who had always been a laid-back father, also acted like someone possessed.
With his sharp eyes and demeanor, Simon had no choice but to throw away childish complaints such as, 'Should I really go to Kizen?'
Richard cast a spell on Simon's body. He said it was to create a 'Core', but Simon was not sure about it. It was just extremely painful.
After spending sleepless nights building the core for around four days, Simon got into the carriage with Richard.
It was a large and luxurious carriage that didn't fit the territory's circumstances. Simon's mouth opened wide at the comfortable cushioning he had never felt before.
"Stay safe, Simon."
Anna waved her hand with tears in her eyes after finally loading two weeks' worth of lunch in the carriage.
"If you feel you can't handle it, come back to Les Hill anytime."
Richard, known for his uxoriousness, got angry, asking how she could say that to the kid taking his first steps.
Simon, who had never seen them fight in his life, realized that his daily life had really begun to change.
"Well then, we'll depart now."
As the coachman drew the reins, the carriage wheels started to roll.
And just like that, Simon, who had lived only on Les Hill his whole life, began his adventure.
Of course, it was far from a comfortable carriage trip. In the carriage, Richard and Simon had a quick session on dark magic.
"Try breathing."
By that, Richard meant to use the 'breathing technique' that he taught.
Simon took a deep breath, drawing the mana in the atmosphere into his body. It wasn't too difficult as he'd practiced it countless times.
"Now, slowly move the mana inside you and pass it through the core."
Richart assisted, placing his hand on Simon's chest. Simon carefully passed the mana flowing like a river through the core below his heart.
Something changed. It felt like the limp mana had become more viscous and hardened up.
"Now let the mana flow through your arms. Yes. Let it out of your hand."
With the feeling of a clogged meridian being wide open,
A black liquid appeared from Simon's palm like drops of sweat.
Richard smiled as Simon blinked his eyes and looked down at his palms.
"Well done, Simon. That is the source of the power of the Necromancer, 'jet-black'."
According to Richard, there was a time when knights and magicians ruled the continent.
Of course, they're currently weakened since Necromancer became mainstream. Knights couldn't beat necromancers in numbers, and wizards were no match in casting speed and destructive power.
"The biggest difference between a necromancer and a wizard is the presence of 'jet-black'."
Richard stretched out his left hand. On his palm, blue mana rose up like a heat haze.
"Mana has the properties of a gas. Because of its low density, it's difficult to bind, and tends to disperse in the atmosphere."
This time he stretched out his right hand. A viscous black liquid gushed out like a fountain and dripped on the palm of his hand.
"On the other hand, 'jet-black' has properties close to that of a solid or liquid. It's made of dense mana, so it's easy to bind and change its shape freely."
The viscous black liquid that had been flowing on his palm suddenly surged upwards. It regrouped in the air and turned into flowers, waves, snakes sticking their tongues out, or windmills that spun.
"Woah...!"
When Simon exclaimed at the splendid show that started all of a sudden, the jet-black changed its form to a 'magic circle'. Red light leaked out from the dark magic circle made up of numerous runes, as if a bomb were about to explode.
The hairs all over his body stood up with a chilling sensation.
Something—Something big was about to happen…!
Shatter!
The magic circle broke as Richard clenched his fist. The ashes that had fallen to the floor slowly disappeared.
"People who cause miracles based on this jet-black are called necromancers."
Simon nodded like he was possessed.
"There's not much time left for me to teach. For the rest of the time, let's focus on practicing a basic technique. Drawing jet-black with the core."
"Yes, Father!"
The practice of creating jet-black was more fun than he expected.
At first, it was just a few drops of bubbles on the palm of the hand, but as time passed, the size grew, and the shape changed.
There were clear results, so Simon immersed himself in practice, losing track of time. Richard also led him to be content with his quick achievements, and to not become impatient.
'...What monstrous speed.'
Richard didn't show it, but he couldn't repress his astonishment inside.
Just three days from a simple release to shape changing.
This was really not normal.
Considering that it took around half to two years for the average person to achieve shape changing, it was no exaggeration to say that Simon was a boy born for jet-black. Although Simon was his son, he had goosebumps in the middle of teaching.
In fact, Richard already knew about Simon's talent. The only reason why he didn't make 'Core' for him was that he was waiting for the right time.
An explosive talent when the ego and sentiments weren't established yet. Richard was a person whose biggest regret in his childhood was acting like a tyrant, and he didn't want to pass on such a mistake to his son.
But now, finally, the time has come for Simon to blossom his talents. The whole continent would be amazed by the appearance of this child.
Just imagining it gave Richard a shiver that ran through his body, making it difficult for him to sit still.
"Father! Look!
Simon raised a jet-black that waved over his palms. Richard looked at it with a serious face.
"Dark Blue. It's a beautiful jet-black color with a slight blue tint."
"I-It's a good thing, right? Am I a rare case or something? Do I have talent?
"It just looks cooler. That's all."
Simon resumed practice with a gloomy expression on his face. Richard turned his head and managed to stop the corners of his mouth from twitching up.
'It's not easy to control facial expression, huh.'
Time passed quickly.
From Simon's point of view, a week had passed without him really noticing the passage of time.
And…
"I can only come with you up to here, Simon."
Richard suddenly notified him of this. Simon felt his heart sink.
"I thought you were bringing me to Kizen."
"I'm sorry, but your father has some complicated circumstances, so I can't set my foot in the lands of the Dresden Kingdom. From here on, you have to decide everything and take action."
Suddenly, a feeling of extreme pressure came over him and he swallowed down his saliva. He would be lying if he said he wasn't afraid of this change, as he had lived in Les Hill for 17 years.
At that moment, Richard tightly held Simon's hand.
"I promise, son. You can do better than anyone. And…"
Richard smiled brightly.
"I'm truly proud of you."
From hearing recognition from his father for the first time in his life, Simon felt a part of his heart pounding.
"I'll get going now, Father."
Simon, who parted with Richard like that, spent his time alone in a huge carriage. Instead of wasting the rest of his time, he focused on training the jet-black.
And another week passed.
"Wow…!"
He arrived at Langerstine, the capital of the Kingdom of Dresden.
Simon's impression from seeing a huge city for the first time was simply overwhelming.
All the buildings were tall and large, carriages frantically crossed the road, and there were even crowds of people. He almost went dizzy at the sight he saw for the first time in his life.
"Outta my way! Outta my way!"
Simon stepped back in surprise.
A large carriage more than 5 meters wide was running down the steep slope. The carriage was led by a horse made of bare bones.
'Undead!'
The undead were roaming around in the middle of the city.
From the simple labor of pulling a carriage or rickshaw, to chores such as distributing flyers in the square.
It was a sight that could be seen because the necromancers became mainstream in the era.
'Pull yourself together.'
Simon lightly tapped his cheek, then unfolded a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket.
<239 Kemmelroad, Langerstine SL1E 6AJ.>
'So, I have to go to this address, right?'
Simon strengthened his resolution
Whether it be Langerstine or Les Hill, it was all a place where people lived. He just had to go to this address and meet the guide who'd guide him to Kizen. Then everything would be solved.
But he had no idea from just looking at this information alone.
Eventually, Simon spoke to a woman with a mass of blonde hair who was standing with her back to him.
"E-Excuse me. Can I ask you something, ma'am?"
Simon freaked out the moment the woman looked back at him.
One of her eyes popped out and swayed.
"What is it, Boy?"
"..."
It'll be rude if you freak out. It'll be rude if you freak out.
"I want to go to the address written on this paper..."
"Address? Let me see."
Simon had a cold sweat at the sight of the swaying eyes growing longer and scanning the paper. Fortunately, he was biting his lip, so he could avoid making a sound.
"Oh, Kemmelroad? It's one of Langerstine's famous places. If you turn right after going through the square above, you'll see an alley with golden tiles."
"Ah...! Thank you very much!"
Simon thanked her with a deep bow.
The woman spread out her fan in her hand and covered her mouth, laughing.
"You're a well-mannered boy, which is rare these days. I wish you good luck in Langerstine."
Luckily, things seemed to be working out!
Simon, who once again thanked her, moved energetically towards the square pointed out by the woman.
'…'
And after a while…
A man who had been silently watching the whole scene spoke to the woman, just like Simon did.
* * *
'I'm finally at Kemmelroad.'
Why in the world was this city so complicated? After 20 minutes of wandering, Simon managed to get to Kemmelroad. As the woman said, the floor tiles were painted in gold.
'239, 239...'
He walked while holding a note and checking the addresses on each building.
"Excuse me."
Someone from the other side appeared and talked to Simon.
He was a bald man with sweat on his forehead. He took out his handkerchief, wiped his forehead once, and said in a polite tone,
"Are you going to 239 Kemmelroad? SL1E 6AJ, to be precise?"
Simon's eyes widened.
How did he know the details of the address?
"Ah! Perhaps the guide that Howl sent was...?!"
The man nodded his head.
"Yes. I'm Howl's guide! You weren't coming even though some time had passed, so I was looking for you, wondering if you might have gotten lost."
At that, Simon was greatly relieved and said,
"I finally met you. My name is Simon Polentia."
"I'm Rowley, the guide of Langerstine. Well, come this way. You must've accumulated a lot of fatigue from the trip, so I'll guide you to the inn first."
Simon nodded his head and followed him.
"You'll have to walk for about 15 minutes. I'll get you there as quickly as possible with a shortcut."
"Okay!"
After getting out of Kemmelroad and walking down the winding alleyway, Simon looked around in wonder.
Everywhere you looked, it was all houses. The amount of wasted space was almost non-existent due to how crowded it was.
The number of people of this city alone seemed to be several times more than the people living throughout the entire Les hill territory.
"I was really worried, sir. It's dangerous for an outsider to roam alone without a guide in Langerstine."
Rowley started telling a story.
"You know the old saying. A sitting duck. This city is swarming with people trying to skin innocent travelers. Pickpockets, robbers, and even wicked traders. When we get to the inn, I'll teach you a few dialects of the Langerstine. It's a temporary solution, but it's better than not being able to speak at all."
"Aha."
Simon grinned.
"That's why you're trying to rob me too."
"...!!"
Rowley stopped walking.
"S-Sir? What do you mea—"
"You often unintentionally look downwards."
Simon pointed out his index finger and said,
"You checked if the items were in the right place when you tapped around the bottom pocket of your vest, right? Looking at the width of the pocket and the crease, it looks like something like a knife is in it."
"..."
Rowley turned to Simon in a cold sweat.
"That's... Yes, you're right."
Clack.
He acquiesced and showed the knife handle in the lower pocket of his vest.
"Didn't I tell you? Langerstine is a dangerous place. You never know who you'll run into in this kind of a narrow alley."
"Finally, the person I mentioned earlier named Howl was actually a made-up name."
Simon smiled and supported the back of his head with his arms.
"You took the bait right away when I asked if you're a guide of Howl. Johnson's favorite goat in Les Hill is named Howl. Do you perhaps run errands for the goats?"
"..."
Rowley, who had a friendly smile on his face, stiffened up.
"Th-Then you followed me even though you knew everything? Who the hell are you?!"