Became the Unjust Contract Slave of the Archamage’s Book

Binaeril, noticing Bapaluga’s reaction, asked with anticipation, “Do you recognize it?”

“I have no idea.”

“You idiot!” The knights, watching Bapaluga closely, hit him on the head and criticized him. It seemed hitting heads was a tradition in the Duke’s army. Bapaluga seemed unfazed, but the knight who struck him clutched his hand in pain, groaning softly.

“It’s crude, but I can tell it’s intricately crafted. However, this necklace isn’t just a simple accessory, is it?”

“How did you know?”

Bapaluga answered, twitching his beard. “We natives are also excellent appraisers. What exactly do you want to find out?”

Binaeril was curious about the power embedded in the necklace. It was processed in the Miao Tribe’s unique way, making it difficult to identify its source. He had asked Eden, assuming it was related to spirit power, but even Eden was unsure.

“It has a special power that makes the wearer’s body lighter. The problem is, even as a mage, I can’t discern its principle.”

Binaeril extended his hand. “If you’re unsure, it’s fine. There’s no issue, so I’ll just keep using it.”

But Bapaluga didn’t return the item. Instead, with a determined tone, he said, “You said you received this from the Miao Tribe?”

“Yes, it was a gift from a Miao Tribe warrior.”

“Hmph… If a native craftsman can’t identify a Miao Tribe artifact, they’d be laughed at by our people.”

His eyes now burned with the pride of a native.

“Sir Binaeril! Lend this to me for a while. I’ll identify how the Miao Tribe processed it and uncover the principle behind its power, then return it to you!”

Overwhelmed by Bapaluga’s fierce determination, Binaeril agreed. “S-sure.”

Bapaluga stood up, leaving his beer unfinished, and ran off somewhere.

The Duke was granted a few days’ grace before departing for Rotfallen again. He needed to organize soldiers to combat the multiplying undead and select knights to escort him to the heart of Rotfallen. The Duke was very busy with planning their armament, supplies, and routes.

Binaeril, during this time, did not idle. Actually, it was more accurate to say he couldn’t idle. Knights of Vinzburg, having heard rumors, flocked to challenge Binaeril to duels. For days, the manor in Vinzburg became a regular gathering spot for Binaeril, the knights, and spectators.

Throughout this, Binaeril never lost once. Initially, some knights doubted his skill, but after twenty-some consecutive wins, they all acknowledged him.

“Victory goes to Baron Binaeril Dalheim!”

Having just secured another win, Binaeril stood tall. The Duke’s knights did not solely rely on the standardized Imperial swordsmanship. There were knights who used maces, spears, whips, and even bows as their main weapons. Most of them had been mercenaries who fought with the Duke in the northern front lines. Thanks to this, Binaeril learned to counter various weapons. Though his body was exhausted…

Living for a while with the Miao Tribe necklace around his neck, he had grown so accustomed to it that not having it felt strange now.

“Sir Binaeril!”

One of the Duke’s retainers ran towards the dueling ground, calling out Binaeril’s name.

“There you are, as expected.”

“What’s the matter?”  

“The preparations for the expedition are complete. The Duke has ordered that we depart at dawn tomorrow.”  

The preparations were already complete, and Binaeril didn’t have much luggage.  

“You’ll be joining this expedition as well. That’s reassuring.”  

Knight Baron approached and spoke.  

“Are you joining too, Sir Baron?”  

“Yes. Asdal and the others will also be with us.”  

Looking around, he saw several knights smiling at him, most of whom he had already become acquainted with on the way from Essen.

“Do these expeditions happen often?”  

The leading knights didn’t seem particularly tense, suggesting they were accustomed to this. They exuded the relaxed confidence typical of those who had experienced many battles.  

“The duchy is vast, and there are many issues. But this expedition is different. Fighting the undead is not the same as dealing with common bandits or monsters.”  

“I suppose so, given that they are immortal beings.”  

“You must prepare thoroughly.”  

Binaeril was curious.  

At Elfenbine, they were taught various methods of dealing with monsters, including the undead. The undead were animated either by strong resentment or by a host who forcibly raised them, usually a dark mage. Elfenbine’s approach to dealing with the undead involved eliminating the host. Since the undead are literally beings that can’t be killed in the conventional sense, destroying the host was the key.

So how did the Duke’s knights handle the undead? Baron answered the question.

“We can’t kill them. They keep moving even if their heads are cut off or their chests are pierced.”  

“Then?”  

“We burn them one by one, or we cut off their limbs and bury them deep in the ground to prevent them from crawling out. The undead are not strong enough to overcome being buried.”  

“That sounds incredibly cumbersome.”  

“It is cumbersome, but the real challenge lies elsewhere.”  

“What is it?”  

Sir Baron sighed.  

“Where do you think the undead come from? From graves. They rise and march from all the graves in Rotfallen.”  

“Some of them aren’t fully decayed and retain their appearance from life. Many soldiers suffer trauma from facing them, even if they’re strangers.”

Sir Asdal, catching the drift of the conversation, added,  

“The most horrifying part is that you might encounter a comrade who died yesterday on the battlefield today.”  

Binaeril felt a chill down his spine. Hearing the testimonies of experienced soldiers made the expedition seem far more grave than he had anticipated.  

“I hope this expedition can put an end to this tragedy.”  

“I will make sure it does.”

While others might not know, Binaeril was aware of the cause of this tragedy. The Veritas pages were undoubtedly the root of all this. As Binaeril and the knights continued their conversation, another figure came running from the other side of the training ground. Binaeril thought he had quite a few visitors today.  

“What is it, Bapaluga?”  

“I have finished appraising the necklace.”  

He waved the Miao Tribe necklace in his hand as he spoke.

“Really? Did you find anything out?”  

Binaeril hadn’t initially expected much from him. The necklace wasn’t crafted by the natives, and if Binaeril couldn’t figure it out, it seemed unlikely that Bapaluga would. Still, out of courtesy, he feigned curiosity.

“It was simpler than I thought. Why didn’t I think of this! This is an item imbued with the essence of the Miao Tribe.”  

“Essence?”

Bapaluga seemed to expect that single word to explain everything. However, it didn’t. Seeing Binaeril’s still puzzled expression, Bapaluga asked in confusion, “Don’t you know what an essence is?”  

“What is it?”  

“Great Earth Mother! How can a mage not know about essence?”

Binaeril glanced around at the surrounding knights, wondering if it was just his ignorance. But they all had blank expressions as well. Binaeril felt reassured that he wasn’t the only one in the dark.

“This is the first I’ve heard of it.”  

“Typical of the long-legged races!”

The knights’ angry expressions were directed at the short native. Realizing he had just insulted everyone around him, Bapaluga hastily added an explanation.

“Essence is the power that embodies the origin of each race!”  

“Isn’t that the same thing?”

“Is it? Essence and origin… ah, let me explain with an example.” Bapaluga used broad hand gestures as he spoke.

“The Miao Tribe lives in the forests and leaps between trees, right?”  

“Natives dig the earth and make weapons. Each race has abilities suited to them, inherent differences.”  

“I see.”

“Among the natives, there are exceptionally talented individuals. We call them Meisters. Meisters worship the Earth Mother and create the finest weapons.”  

The Miao Tribe also had such individuals, like spirit priests similar to Jinulbam, who were highly respected by the tribe.

“Natives make weapons, and the Miao Tribe serves spirits… these foundational traits of each race are what we call the ‘soul of the race’ or ‘essence.’”

Listening to Bapaluga’s explanation, Binaeril thought of a question.  

“Humans don’t have such an essence.”

Bapaluga looked at Binaeril as if he had asked the most foolish question. It had been a long time since Binaeril had been regarded as foolish by anyone other than Veritas.

“Sir Binaeril, how can you say that when you are the embodiment of that essence?”  

“The essence of humans is obviously magic, isn’t it?”

***

The expeditionary force assembled by Duke Dux departed from Vinzburg Fortress at dawn. Numerous knights, even more soldiers, and a corresponding number of horses were mobilized. Vivian Dux declared she would follow Binaeril, but her announcement was immediately overridden by the stern command of the highest authority in the domain. The highest authority wasn’t Duke Dux but Duchess Melina.

Vivian was so disheartened that she didn’t even show up at the send-off ceremony. Binaeril considered it fortunate. He didn’t want to see the Duke’s tearful face over being separated from his daughter early in the morning.

The Rotfallen expedition was composed of hundreds of soldiers.

The Duke advanced slowly.  

“Why aren’t we moving as quickly as we did on our way to the duchy?”  

Sir Baron answered Binaeril’s question.  

“Previously, we were returning from a march, but now we are advancing for battle. We need to conserve the soldiers’ strength as much as possible.”

“Our destination is Rotfallen, but not all the troops will head there directly.”  

“The front lines against the undead are widely spread. Once we reach a suitable distance, the troops will split to support various fronts.”  

“Then only a few will head to the heart of Rotfallen…”  

“The Duke, you, and probably a few knights will continue on.” Sir Baron winked, implying he would be among them.

“Fighting the undead is very different from other wars. They don’t flee, and there’s no real strategy. They just keep pushing their undying bodies forward endlessly.” Sir Baron gestured toward the Duke leading the column before continuing.  

“This is, in a way, the slowest war in the world. Only humans get tired. The Duke knows this, so he’s holding back his urge to rush forward and advancing slowly.”

Binaeril pondered his words. The slowest war in the world. Yet, it must be the most intense battle within the Duke’s heart. Binaeril felt a desire to reassure him, even with clumsy words. 

He rode up to the Duke’s side.  

“Hmm? What is it, Sir Binaeril?”  

“The beer in Vinzburg is very good.”  

“…In just a few days, you’ve become quite the drinker.”  

“When this expedition is over, I’d like to return and share a drink with you again, Your Grace.”

The Duke shifted his gaze from Binaeril to the distant horizon. After a brief pause, he replied,  

“Let’s do that.”