Vol. 2 Ch. 3: Another Failure

Author's Note:
Recurring Characters: 

Peter: The Protagonist of this series. 

Mariah: Peter's mother. 

Sabine d'Alric: Baroness and the Knight Commander of Draymore County. Count Draymore often sends her away due to his fear of her motivations. 

Darian: A young warrior who is in a leadership role in her contingent. 

Ilyana: A mage in the service of Sabine. 

Thomelin: High priest of Avaris in the Draymore County. An old man.

Status pages of Peter, Sabine, and Thomelin are in the post-chapter author note. 

Edited and Proof/beta read by Snazzycub.
...
Sabine frowned after a strong, putrid smell entered her nostrils. Her eyes closed involuntarily from the discomfort, tears trailing down her cheeks. Thomelin had become a coughing mess beside her. From the corner of her eye, Sabine watched Darian and the villagers step away from the dig site.

‘The smell must have been unbearable up close,’ she thought, sympathising with them.

“Here,” Thomelin said, offering her a piece of cloth. He had already put one on his nose. Sabine nodded gratefully before taking it from his hand. “Let’s go,” she said, sighing in relief. Both of them circled the square to reach the other side. Darian dutifully followed her from behind while they approached the uncovered burial site.

“The whole square has been turned into a mass grave,” Darian said, his eyes lacking most of their earlier enthusiasm.

Sabine silently followed his gaze and took in the state of the human corpses, a grotesque mix of half-eaten, mostly intact, and fully dismembered bodies. All of them were in various stages of decomposition—bloated, discoloured, fluids leaking from every orifice, maggots feasting in multiple places. It was horrible to look at, and even worse to smell.

“Whoever saw to their burial did so with neither care nor cleverness,” Sabine murmured, a shake of her head betraying her disdain.

“How so, dame?” Darian asked, in a subdued tone, watching the grave.

“The grave is far too shallow. Once decay sets in, the rot will seep into the soil,” Sabin said, her lips set into a grim line. “To bury them here, amidst the village, is recklessness. Even setting aside the risk of the undead, the threat of disease is reason enough to keep the dead well away.”

“Oh, my goddess,” Thomelin whispered, getting on his knees beside her. His trembling hands clasped together in prayer, facing the square. “Welcome these poor souls into your godly domain,” he said, closing his eyes. Sabine and Darian stepped back, their movements slow, reverent. Neither spoke, their expressions carved in stone. Behind them, the villagers followed suit, kneeling on the cold earth. Some wept in silence, shivering from grief. Others stared at the ground, fists clenched, lips pressed into hard lines. Only the high priest’s voice dared to break the hush.

“Purify,” he mumbled, a golden hue spreading over his body. It expanded outward like sunlight, radiating in all directions. Like a mother’s embrace, the glow warmed the hearts of those it touched. The golden light bathed the entire square before dissolving into glistening motes. Even after the skill ended, the bodies in the mass grave continued to glow with its lingering light.

Sabine removed the cloth from her nose and inhaled a deep breath. A smile graced her lips, noting the lack of putrid odour.

“You can close the grave now,” Thomelin said, struggling to rise. He was covered in sweat from head to toe. Sabine strolled forward and helped him stand properly.

“Are you alright, high priest?” she enquired, a note of concern in her tone.

Thomelin laughed, which devolved into a coughing fit. “It’s just some exhaustion. I will be fine in a bit,” he said, breathing roughly. “My skill will ensure that none of them turn undead or contaminate the surrounding land and water,” he added, before drinking a mana potion with trembling hands.

“You need rest, Thomelin Arvanson,” Sabine insisted firmly before turning her face to the side. “Darian,” she said, “take the High Priest to a house and make sure that he rests.”

…

“What did you find?” Sabine asked, watching the contingent and the villagers eat peacefully.

“Our investigation revealed that the houses were hastily searched.” Ilyana said, looking at the setting sun in the sky.

“Looting?” Sabine muttered, a frown on her face.

“Sort of. All the coin that weren’t hidden properly have been stolen. But other valuables, like jewellery, are still here,” Ilyana said, showing a ruby pendant in her hand. She continued, “Another odd thing—the animals were set free in the fields. Likely to keep them from starving.”

“Mass burial, setting cattle free, stealing coins,” Sabine counted, narrowing her eyes. "There were others who escaped fate, it seems," she added, her gaze settling on Victor and his group among the villagers.

“So it seems,” Ilyana curtly nodded, following her gaze. “What are your orders?” She asked, facing Sabine again.

“Let them eat. Once fed, we will move into the forest. We must make sure that no kobold remains alive and investigate the reason behind their appearance. The looters can be judged after,” Sabine said coldly, eyes shining with killing intent. “Tell Darian that he is responsible for keeping the villagers safe until we return,” she added.

“As you command,” Ilyana said, bowing her head as Sabine strolled away.

…

“Another grave, huh?” Sabine muttered, walking forward. She leaned forward and wiped the boulder with her hand. Squinting her eyes, she read the epitaph word by word. “Let’s keep moving,” she said, standing straight. “The High Priest can take care of this in the morning,” she added, walking deeper into the forest. Her face lit with determination.

The contingent advanced in a triangular formation, with three apple-sized balls of light floating at each corner, illuminating the forest path. Every minute, scouts employed their detection skills to survey the vicinity. Faintly glowing kobold footprints marked the path to their destination, a trail revealed by an advanced tracking skill.

After nearly an hour of trudging through the forest, the group finally arrived at their destination. Sabine gazed at the ruins of what had once been a kobold settlement. It was far more barren than the village, lacking even the bodies that had been scattered across the Simon Village. A broken barricade surrounded the kobold camp. The contingent moved inside and found only flattened tents.

Sabine kicked an earthen pot and muttered, "We are late to our calling, it seems."

“Dame,” Ilyana hesitantly whispered, earning her attention. “That cave…the ambient mana in that cave is far too pure. Pure enough to be from a leyline,” she said, pointing west.

Sabine’s eyes widened, her face set in disbelief. “It can’t be. A dungeon!?” she said, strolling toward the cave. Ilyana rushed behind her.

“It shouldn’t be too challenging. The ambient mana in the forest is far too thin to sustain a tier-three dungeon,” llyana said, with a thoughtful expression.

Sabine turned toward the rest of the group and barked, “Guard the entrance while we investigate. It shouldn’t take more than a few hours.” Leaving them behind, they both disappeared into the depths of the cavern.

…

“I should have expected this,” Sabine seethed, her jaw clenched in frustration. “It was so clear. How could I have missed it? The sudden appearance of the kobolds, the presence of a tier-three being—” She slammed her fist into a nearby wall.

“What else could draw the attention of someone that powerful, if not a dungeon core?” she growled through gritted teeth. “Of course they’d be after it. Consuming the bloody core lets you choose a higher-grade class at your next advancement!”

“There is not much that we could have done, even if we arrived earlier,” Ilyana sighed, standing on the side. “I understand your feelings about this. The dungeon would have been a great boon to the whole county. But right now we should worry about how to inform the count?”

“That greedy fool,” Sabine muttered, an icy smile on her face. “He will not be pleased. With due time, this dungeon would have allowed the county to become the most prosperous domain on this side of the kingdom.”

“Yes, Dame. He will be very upset,” Ilyana sighed, “I fear that he will put the blame of this dungeon’s loss on your shoulders.”

…

(A few days ago, on a route to Rosefall.)

[
System...

Skill’s request to act as enforcer for the summoning contract acknowledged.

Accessing requirements for the contract establishment….

Assessment completed….

Searching for suitable entities that fit the first set of requirements….

A total of 8,004,372 entities found….

Sorting out all the entities based on strength and potential parameters….

Removing all the entities that could overpower the user due to higher strength…

A total of 434,543 entities remaining…

Assessing additional dynamic requirements….

Acknowledged the user’s requirement for the summon to have certain healing capabilities…

Assessment completed…

Sorting out all the entities that do not meet the desirable healing capability….

A total of 9,043 entities remaining…

Warning… The user’s karmic values are taken into consideration…

Note… Karmic values might affect the summoning process…

Sending out a request to form a summoning contract….

Awaiting response….

Receiving responses from the willing entities…

A total of 30 entities had shown willingness to sign a contract due to very low karmic value…

Filtering based on compatibility and contract viability…

Checking affinity alignment between the user and responding entities…

Removing all the entities that desire harm towards the user in exchange for the contract…

Warning…Your contract with DeathKnell is taken into consideration

A total of 30 entities have withdrawn their desire to form a contract…
]

“Another failure,” Peter sighed, looking at his status screen. ‘My fourth consecutive failure,’ he thought, clenching his jaw. ‘Why can’t it let me summon a spirit or creature that can heal Mother of her injuries? Why?!’

‘Are karma values really so important to them? All I need is one contract—just one,’ Peter let out a mocking laugh. ‘No normal entity is willing to form a contract due to my karmic values, and the abnormal ones flee the moment they feel the presence of Deathknell.’

He stood up and shook his head, “I can’t allow myself to be dejected right now.” He picked up the map leaning against the boulder he’d been sitting on. “It’s been three days since we have been on the road. Thankfully, we have not encountered anyone on the path so far.”

‘More proof that our village was pretty remote. The only point of contact had been the travelling merchants that visited quarterly,’ he thought, not remembering any other visitors in his whole childhood.

Peter looked at the map, putting his finger on Simon village, right beside the forest. The forest was vast, with multiple villages situated around it at various distances. Simon village was an outlier among them, situated on the eastern side of the forest.

Peter slowly traced his finger along the line that represented the route they were following on the map. It was drawn using red ink, signifying the danger one might encounter on it. The main road had fewer creatures compared to the wilds on both sides.

Despite that, it was still dangerous for a small group to travel out in the open unless they had the strength to defend against the wild beasts, monsters, and bandits. At the pace Peter had been allowing the horses to pull the carriages, it would take them close to a month of travel to reach Rosefall.

‘Rosefall isn’t the closest city to our city—that would be the Count’s — but it doesn’t offer what I need,’ he mused, looking at the other side of the map. ‘Rosefall is more desirable. Not only does Draymore County lack someone familiar to rely on, Rosefall houses the biggest cathedral of Avaris on this side of the kingdom.’

“And being far has its own advantages,” Peter mumbled, closing the old parchment. “No one will be able to connect the destruction of a village in a nearby county to us in Rosefall.”

Peter gave a sidelong glance at Mariah, who had been sitting near the bonfire from the night before. She was slowly nibbling at the dry jerky. Once in a while, she would bring the mug half-filled with warm milk to her lip and take a sip.

Peter carefully observed her actions and smiled. Even though she hadn’t spoken yet, she was slowly showing signs of recovery. Being able to eat on her own was an improvement.