I Became the Wrong Race

41 – Mourner on the Snowy Field (3)

Contractors are rare beings.

Of course, it is quite visible in games, but it is said that contractors are rare even in game settings that are only vaguely known.

I didn’t think they would know how to fight against the Star Contractors.

So, while acting like a star contractor, I pretended to move based on the assumption that they would know how to counter it.

“Kneel. Everyone.”

The flames flowing from the extended blade are not something that can be created by magic.

Usually, surrounding a weapon with flame causes serious damage to the weapon, so the weapon is not in good condition.

In addition, the only thing that appears to be flames flowing through the blade.

On the other hand, the star blade in my hand was different.

The blade itself seemed to be made up of intense flames that drowned out even the sound of swallowing.

It was red-hot as if it would melt at any moment, but it did not melt; rather, flames were embroidered along the trajectory of the sword.

A star blade that melts as it cuts and cuts any armor in half.

It was a technique that symbolized the mercenary I defeated a while ago and the strongest colleague who showed perfect attendance throughout the series, Scorching Ball.

“Wait a minute, we didn’t come here to cause harm….”

“Shut up.”

They also seemed to know that well. I didn’t know how to respond, but I knew the horror of the star’s blade.

So they obediently followed my instructions.

Light the lamp, take out the torch, light it, and kneel down with all weapons put down.

The scenery was strange, with weapons and lights laid down on the snowy field and people kneeling.

It’s like a pseudo-religious gathering. I held out my flaming sword blade and aimed it, while harboring some trivial sentiments.

“Who speaks for you?”

When asked who the leader is, the man in front comes forward.

He was an ordinary-looking man who looked like he would have been a farmer if it were a game.

“Your name?”

At my question, the man froze as he had approached.

No, is it because of the extended blade? I nodded, hiding my face under my helmet.

“Chrome yes….”

A man who pauses before saying his name. He shook her head with a complicated expression.

“It’s Chrome… “I’ll get better.”

“Chrome, what is your business?”

Natural lower body. The man who called himself Chrome shrugged her shoulders and stared at my blade.

I could see various emotions flashing through his eyes.

It was a feeling close to hostility.

It clearly showed me what the land I was now standing on, the New Continent, was like.

There is no innocent person on this earth. If he had survived, he would have had just as much blood on his hands.

We are standing now because we survived and won by any means possible. The New World was such a place. A hotbed of complete lawlessness.

I knew that well, so I did not bite the sword aimed at her man. Isla will keep an eye on those behind that man.

Rather, I thought. What is the best way to resolve this situation?

There was a mourner inside the tent. Rather than running away from these people, it would be right to fight against them.

On the other hand, what about the people in front of you?

They felt like only prey for mourners.

If I hadn’t defeated the cannibals and killed Star Blade, these weak people would have become a meal for the cannibals or been forced to enlist.

Although appearances aren’t everything, they didn’t seem like a group that would chase down mourners who survived until they reached middle age.

This is not a normal situation. Usually, the mourner will break through all of them and destroy them all, or survive.

There was no chance that they could defeat the mourners. As I rolled my eyes, the weapon I saw was insignificant.

They were cheap items such as old and rusty swords, two-handed axes that were not distinguishable as to whether they were used for logging, or long weapons called godendaks.

However, it was certain that they had come to visit mourners.

It is not a friendly intention. They clearly looked like they wanted to stab the mourner.

But why?

I didn’t know. Although the image of the mourner was worse than that of the Black Knight, it was an image close to disaster.

Is there a human being who does not mourn death?

Since anyone can be born at the moment of mourning death, it was seen as something close to a disaster on the battlefield, like an infection or a catastrophe.

Even mourners are not uncommon.

Although it is the subject of research from orthodox warlocks such as the Inquiry School to the most basic and orthodox Deep Protection School, nothing has been revealed about the origins of mourners.

Just as a person mourns another person, strength is gained, and the magic power is completely removed from the body as if it were no longer alive.

The soul disappears and the murdered ghosts take over the body.

In fact, it is a power given by a transcendental being unknown to anyone in exchange for the soul.

Opening our eyes to the potential of humans themselves.

An alien that emits energy waves from space from its hands.

There were all kinds of hypotheses floating around inside and outside the game, but nothing was certain.

To prove my hypothesis, I actually created a mod that allowed the skill to shoot energy waves, but it wasn’t something I would think of right now.

The important thing is that, although I don’t know why, they hated the mourner in the tent and came to harm him.

What would my older sister have done?

After thinking for a moment, I only confirmed that I was not my older sister.

“Come out.”

Chrome blinks at my brief words. Even then, when someone came out of the tent, it exploded.

“What is this?”

“Shut up.”

I am not merciful like my sister. Like my older sister, I don’t strive for a perfect ending.

If you fail, you fail, and if you fail, you fail. My sister and I had different ways of playing games.

Even if you fail a dive and the game crashes, it’s enough to just scream, and if you don’t receive it, just keep mugging and finish.

If you can make up for it, do it. If you can’t, you can’t. I am not obsessed with results.

It was still like that.

“This is my guest, and he is under my protection. If you want it, get it.”

They say that if your head is bad, your body will suffer, but if your body is not good, your brain will suffer. I was a person who chose the easy path if there was one.

Chrome and the group below showed various reactions to my declaration.

While there were some who looked down on my progress and endured it, there were others who ultimately could not suppress it and glared at me.

Some people tried to secretly grab their weapons, but they had no choice but to let go when Isla’s crossbow was pointed at them.

In the end, after hesitating for a while, they left.

“Wait.”

It wasn’t until Chrome left, saying incomprehensible words, that the mourner looked at me with a blank expression.

I took off my helmet, bent my neck from side to side, and sat down on a log in front of the campfire.

Isla was retrieving the arrow she had loaded and slowly returning the arrow as if she had just aimed the crossbow.

The mourner just stood there blankly through the whole process.

An expression that makes it difficult to guess what happened. Some faint emotion hidden within it.

That was far from relief. As soon as I look at it, it disappears.

He sat in front of the bonfire.

“I am sorry.”

“Thank you.”

Isla receives the horse. She pricked her ears expressionlessly and pointed her tail at the mourner.

“That’s what you say in times like this.”

Got it? It was not the kind of treatment that should be directed at a middle-aged person, but the mourner was a generous person.

“Thank you. “Thanks to you, I survived.”

He laughed. A smile that clearly shows that it is not because of Isla’s attitude, but for something else.

But he did not say. He sat quietly in front of the burning campfire.

The body, almost as big as my monster body, was covered in scars.

Since when did you become a mourner, and what did you do before becoming a mourner?

He had traces of a long struggle.

A strong body with muscles all over the hands, covered in calluses.

Some deep wounds can be seen on the scars that are visible due to the naked body.

I thought of the uninvited guests who came to visit a little while ago.

Why did he come looking for a mourner whom he could not possibly defeat?

Why did the mourner run away instead of saving them?

And they flock to the point where they come to strangers and ask for food.

Why do we not fight to survive while trying to avoid death?

I didn’t know. These were stories you wouldn’t know unless he told them.

“Do you want a drink?”

“Thank you.”

“You too.”

“Thank you.”

From noble mtl dot com

Tea is poured into a wooden cup that Isla carved herself. It was tea with honey, and Isla always had a can of honey in her luggage.

The tea water made with fruit, honey, and tea leaves tasted good even to me who was more used to cola than tea.

It was a tea that was refreshing, warmed the body, and was sweet, making you feel good.

We leisurely enjoyed tea and lighted the fire as if nothing had happened.

Did you say it was a bulmeong? It was as he said.

Fire had magical power. The vast majority of humans in this world have it, but I and the middle-aged mourner before me do not have it.

What kind of pulling force would you say it is? Considering that human development went hand in hand with fire in any world, it was understandable.

We just looked at the fire.

The mourner did not ask me if I was really a contractor from the star or why I helped him.

I also did not ask the mourner what happened to make them chase him or what his relationship was with them.

From there, I was able to intuit.

When the man who introduced himself as Chrome said he would wait, he didn’t mean to threaten me, but to this middle-aged man.

But I didn’t bother to stop him. There was no reason to stop him, and there was no sense of loyalty.

This middle-aged person may have behaved well, but in fact, he may have come to this new continent because of a terrible sin.

If it were a shapeshifter like Isla, it might be different, but if humans came to the New World, it was bound to be black somewhere.

Whether it’s intention, past, or behavior.

Anything black exists on this earth. I realized that and closed my eyes for a moment.

When I opened my eyes again, there was no mourner.

There were only footprints crossing the darkness toward the rising east.

I wrapped the cloak around Isla, who was sleeping soundly, and followed the footsteps.

Perhaps because of his leg discomfort, he often left traces of dragging his right foot across the snow, so the chase was not difficult.

I just had that thought.

It’s vague, but I think it may not have been my own death that he was avoiding.

It was indeed so.

At the end of the footprints, hell unfolded.

Blood, internal organs, and bones were scattered everywhere like red flowers.

If the culprit had not been standing there, it would have been considered the remains of a powerful monster or beast.

I saw a man standing tall in the center.

A middle-aged man with blood smeared all over his body and looking back at me with a sad face.

When we made eye contact, he smiled empty-handedly.