I Became the Wrong Race

9 – Mourning(1)

The warlock Beowulf of the Empire, who had a long study and practical experience, was a little distance from the ruins.

It was where the runaway heretic inquisitor was hiding. Not knowing his tricks, he was cautious and carefully operated.

If he wanted to do so, he could clear the debris in an instant.

He had a few spells like that.

However, all such spells required a lot of magical power. Right after using it, he wouldn’t be able to operate a few more attacking spells.

And he didn’t want to fight the heretic inquisitor beyond that in such a state.

‘He’s strong.’

He was a veteran who had been through numerous battlefields.

Ever since he became a part of the Empire’s warlock faction, he had always been a soldier, not a magician.

The typical mistakes that a magician makes did not exist for him.

His choices stemmed from that.

Clear the ruins without consuming a lot of magical power and prepare for attack.

Do not take a break or vacate, even for a moment, to allow the opportunity for an attack.

Not knowing how the opponent may appear, he tried to simultaneously block two options.

That’s why he watched the ruins from behind the barrier he built and his cannibalistic subjects were busily removing the ruins under his supporting spell.

Of course, that was not all.

He could bury the whole with a devastating spell, but he couldn’t do that.

‘If the hunter dies, it’s a loss.’

The hunter was a talent that must be secured to maintain the group.

As a land where the stable food supply wasn’t smooth, Isla, who had outstanding tracking and hunting abilities, was essential.

‘And just when….’

It’s with that monstrous heretic inquisitor.

He scowled, recalling what had just happened.

Showing himself as a heretic inquisitor, the atmosphere shifted abruptly.

Immediately after, there was a feeling of being shot, an acceleration, followed by a fierce attack.

Even though he haphazardly created it, Beowulf was using 5th tier magic stably.He was a capable sorcerer.

Had his protection spell been shattered and blown away with a single strike?

That too, a strike delivered with bare hands that managed to touch the inside of the physical enhancement magic that Beort had endowed beforehand?

Nonetheless, it was unprecedented. Not even Aila could’ve done it.

Even if it was a monster, its power was astonishing.

So, Beort stared at the debris while cautiously crafting a magic spell that could incinerate it at any moment.

“First, I will take its legs. Then, a single blow should be enough.”

Congenially, he smiled at his faux daughter standing by his side and watched the debris.

Meanwhile, the excavating cannibals completely picked through the debris.

Suddenly, a loud crash echoes.

“My Lord, we’re done!”

The debris collapses. From a pile of rocks, leftover debris fell towards the ground.

Among the panting cannibals, the mage prepared his magic from a safe distance.

Are you ready? Let’s do it.

Whenever you appear, I will bury a red spear into you.

While Beort was preparing, and the cannibals retreated with shivering bodies, Aila swallowed hard with tension.

When the dust cloud cleared, an empty corridor was revealed.

“Search it. Start by throwing a torch”

The cannibals moved with a frightful look.

Throwing torches, illuminating the corridor and continuing steps slowly while they gazed with tense eyes.

After picking up the torch they continued and reached the end of the corridor.

At the end of the corridor was the deepest part of the dungeon – a laboratory.

Although it was more suitable as a dwelling, this place once housed countless experimental samples.

“Oh, no one is here!”

Beort frowned. That was impossible.

“Someone is hiding here! Take a closer look at the surroundings!”

The space is a dead-end. There is no way out.

So, he must be hiding somewhere. Beort thought and moved to the deepest part of the space with his faux daughter.

“My Lord, be cautious.”

“Ah, yes, okay.”

While the daughter and the mage advanced tremblingly, the mage scanned their surroundings with wide eyes.

The first thing that caught his eye was an open table. The simple research table he thought was wide open.

It was an unfamiliar structure. It was impossible to understand perfectly by looking at it.

He couldn’t even guess that something was hiding inside, something that only a homunculus may use.

He merely thought that the monster and the hunter should be somewhere inside.

So, he was late.

“My Lord…!”

“It’s urgent!”

He received simultaneous calls from one of the cannibals that raced back from the entrance they came in and another two who were investigating the interior.

It’s a warning that they found something unusual. Seeing his grim expression, each cannibal reported to him.

“We are under attack from the front door!”

“There is an exit here…!”

Each heard news. The situation came into view.

Somehow, they found an exit and they were attacked from the entrance of the dungeon.

What they were probably aiming for.

“Could they…!”

He traces back the path they took. The screams and death slowly got closer.

Slowly, along the path they were taking, bodies were rolled out.

Most of the bodies were not in good condition. Heads crushed, chests caved in, signs of arms and legs broken off.

Marks as if struck by a heavy hammer. This was no ordinary act. The image of the heresy inquisitor that he’d previously seen now floated up.

His powerful charge and power. A brute attack method that can make a human like this with just bare hands.

Having known this method of attack, he had a thorough understanding. Well, it was a major social issue that had been brought up right after the civil war of his empire.

“Report the situation. Where is the intruder found?”

Grasping the hand of a cannibal who still breathed, he asked. The trembling cannibal squeezed out some last strength.

“A monster….”

Then, he took his last breath.

The collapsed cannibal had no left arm. The missing trace, as if roughly bitten off, was beyond human capabilities.

It was horrible. However, he simultaneously, provided a certain assurance.

The inquisitor of heresy that he faced…The Identity of the Inquisitor.

Mourners.

If it was them, the people with high reputation as the empire’s plague and warriors of the north, it was possible.

Those who somehow drew superhuman power just by mourning a person’s death.

Even kin to Ayla.

‘But such an entity is a heretic inspector.’

Why did the haughty Heretic Inspectorate accept such an existence? Beort could not know, nor did he want to know.

He simply had to kill that monster.

Before the monster ruins everything.

“Eilin.”

His daughter looked at him with anxious eyes. Eyes questioning if this was really right. A gaze that has continued since the departure from the city, the empire.

But Beort did not hesitate. He headed towards the battlefield.

Calm his anxious heart, harness his magic, and head towards the place where horrific screams and noises can be heard.

As he approached the dungeon entrance, the remnants left on the corpses gradually became more elaborate.

In the end, he finally found an unfamiliar someone.

Croach!

Someone smashing a head with a foot. Something metallic-looking and flickering black, barely recognizable as human in form.

It was a type of creature he’d never seen before in his life. An unexpected development for him who expected the heretic inspector before.

It was a monster blocking the entrance to a large hall. A monster that even makes him, an experienced wizard, hesitate for a moment.

There were corpses everywhere. Countless bodies that died clutching axes, knives, spears.

All of them were horrifically shattered. Delicate but fatal wounds.

Beort belatedly realized who the monster in front of him was.

“Heretic Inquisitor … “

Then, a figure like coalesced black shadows raised its head.

A face with no visible eyes stared back at him.

“Beort.”

The voice echoed as if speaking from within armor. But hearing his familiar voice confirmed Beort’s assumptions.

The heretic inquisitor had killed them all.

It could have been planned from the start. It could have captured the hunter Isla and brought them here to kill his own men.

Perhaps the emperor secretly supported this, or another organization did. Beort had many enemies.

But that’s not important now. What’s important now is that there’s an enemy in front of him, and he has to kill it.

He stared at his enemy. Only then did he see certain things.

The cannibals strewn about at his feet, his subordinates’ deaths weren’t meaningless.

There were numerous scratches carved into the heretic inspector’s body. Seemingly impervious to ordinary weapons, there were only scratches.

Being an experienced warrior and wizard, just that much told him a lot.

With ordinary weapons, you can’t inflict more than scratches.

It seems to have been treated with magic. So, magic must be the suitable solution.

There were plenty of spells for that.

The conversation, therefore, did not continue. Only Beort’s silent gaze and the invisible black gaze met.

As the mouth slightly opened and a spiritual wall began to form.

Thump!

A faint sound was heard for the first time. A sound that cannot be ignored.

Supporting the back, the crossbow. He reaches out to create a force field, following the word that came to mind. Creating a shield.

But Ruwellin moved faster.

Cwaaang!

Stones spreading on the ground are shattered and scattered, droplets of blood scatter after hitting corpses, and The Wizard constructed a protective shield on both sides to block both crossbow bolts and the charge, just as his daughter tries to shield him and bounces off.

But that was a miscalculation.

He thought he could no longer use Mourning.

So he paused when he saw his own shield collapse.

Ordinary mourners can only use Mourning once a day.

Nor does the retention time exceed an average of 1 minute.

But not now.

A second Mourning beyond common sense, too long a gap from the moment it was used before.

He did not know. The monster who breaks his shield now and beats him with a black fist.The reason why he re-entered the dungeon he painstakingly left and killed the cannibals.

And the words that appeared in the corner of his vision.

[Occupation: Warrior – Mourner 2]

The thrown body barrels into the wall, rolling. His daughter, pushed by his body, also slides on the floor.

Amid the falling stone fragments, the magician glared at the monster.