Reincarnation of a Worthless Man

Alincia

Damn it!

Damn it damn it damn it!

Just my luck! Why must I stumble upon her now?! She's supposed to be all cooped up in that tower with that Mira person! She's not supposed to be walking around in the streets! And how did she notice me anyway! She wasn't even looking in my direction!

Alincia Salamander couldn't take it anymore.

It was one thing obeying her grandfather's every whim. It was another actually going to war under his name. Ever since that woman who called herself Mira appeared, things had gotten a lot worse in the Magocracy. They now believed they were entitled to the whole world! Just because of her!

Still, that monster… as much as she disliked her, she could not deny the power she possessed.

Even at Tottima, she could see the meteor she called falling from the sky a month ago. At that moment, she seriously thought the world was going to end.

Just who was she? Was she seriously Mira herself, somehow reincarnated to one thousand years in the future? Or had she somehow achieved immortality? If so, where were she all these years?

She didn’t know. Her grandfather refused to tell her anything. Not until she beat him in a fight, something she had yet to be able to do.

There was one thing she knew for sure though. She had to get out of here. At once.

She finally knew where Marina was, thanks to her pulling some strings with her subordinates. She had told them to keep an eye on rumors and hearsays by hanging around in the Adventurer’s Guild (without telling them who they really were, of course). And, it took quite a while, but rumors from the other end of the Continent finally reached the adventurers living here

Marina was in some northwestern kingdom called Ferus, and apparently, she had gained quite the reputation there as the Witch of Verdant Death. Bad reputation, that is. Something completely baseless, she was sure of it. However, the Witch was said to specialize in plant magic, able to grow giant trees and vines with a wave of her staff. And that described Marina to a tee. So it had to be her! She just knew it!

And then, she learned something else, about how she was apparently being “tamed” by some girl who called herself a saint of the Heavenly Dragon. And she did it with her so-called miracle, after the Witch killed the king with her wicked spells.

The word “tamed” was enough to send her flying to a frenzy. She was there when her friend was nearly violated by that lecherous hobbit. And she’d be damned if she let something similar to happen to her again!

And so, under the guise of the night, she abandoned her post at Tottima, flying straight towards the northwest, using her magic sword. She didn’t tell anyone of her departure. No one was really on her side. They were all worshiping her grandfather. Their loyalty was to him, 100%. Unlike them, she wouldn’t wait around until he ordered her to actually attack another country, like what happened with Monas Vehta and his kids. Like hell she would kill innocent people just to satisfy the ambition of a mad old man!

Only for her to notice Ilmyhrra walking on the streets of the city. She recognized her immediately. Her silver hair, her long ears, she was the mysterious high elf that suddenly came one day to the Council.

She didn’t think she noticed her as she was flying up high in the sky but now, here she was, being chased by her.

She glanced behind her. Sure enough, the high elf was still there, chasing after her like a hawk. She was flying without anything supporting her, meaning, she must be using some sort of wind magic. Not that she could do anything about it. She had tried firing a few of her fire spells towards her to slow her down but, for some reason, they simply vanished before they could make contact with her.

Tch! This is bad! She’s faster than me!

She bent her knees, putting more weight to the front over her back. Using a spell, she conjured a jet of fire to come out from the handle of the flying sword she was standing on. The fire acted like a rocket engine, granting a significant boost to her speed at the cost of her handling.

The wind picked up considerably, nearly blowing her large witch hat off her head. The magic sword swiftly balanced itself to make sure its mistress wouldn’t fall from its surface.

There! That should shake her off!

She looked behind her once more.

And, to her relief, she wasn’t there anymore.

Yep! It works, alright! Glad I actually thought up of this—

A staff.

A metal staff had just hit her in her abdomen.

She didn’t know where it came from. It simply just appeared out of thin air.

No, in that split second, she saw her.

The high elf was right in front of her.

“Gah!”

She fell off her sword. The living tool quickly tried to chase after all, only to find itself suddenly losing its power. It fell down from the sky, just like its mistress, before laying down lifelessly on the dirt down below.

However, for Alincia, she had a better fate awaiting for her. The high elf managed to catch her right before she hit the ground with her wind spell.

She landed right beside the still coughing magician, standing over her with her usual blank expression.

“You’re Alincia, correct?”

“You… You’re here to capture me? Bring me back to my grandfather? Or to that Mira woman?” Alincia replied, aiming her wand towards her. “It was you, wasn’t it?! Who brought her here?! Ever since you appeared, everything has gone wrong! What are you, some sort of necromancer? Did you bring her back to life with your dark magic? You high elves are really good at magic!”

Ilmyhrra didn’t respond. She simply said these words in return—words that were enough to send Alincia to a stupor of silence.

“You want to meet with Marina Greenwood, do you not? I’ll come with you.”

“I have a debt I still need to repay. To an acquaintance of mine.”

‎

‎

Ilymhrra

Some days ago, inside the Sage Tower, Ilymhrra had her parting conversation with her ex-pupil.

There, Mira was sitting on her floating throne. Ilymhrra had to crank her neck upwards to see her. Definitely designed so the one on the throne had a superior position to the one on the floor.

"You're leaving? Why? Are you not going to be by my side? When I met my mortal enemy once more?"

"No. Your conflict with Milicis—I shall not intervene," Ilymhrra replied coolly. "You're a clever one. You already know how to handle her since you started this war and all. Soon, she and the entirety of the Holy Continent will knock on your door. And I won't be there to save you."

"How cruel~" Mira smiled. "You did leave me on my own when the holy hag tried to assassinate me all those years ago. Are you sure you'll do it all over again? Didn't you get all depressed when your cute apprentice died?"

One thousand years ago, Milicis tried to assassinate Mira once she learned that her old friend was attempting to open the Gate to the Lifestream. She brought her Chosen Champions and confronted the archmage in secret, unbeknownst to the Church at large. It resulted in Mira's "death" and the start of the rivalry between the Church and the Magocracy.

"If you're that worried," the high elf replied coldly. "Then go stay in the Reverse Tower instead of here. You got your Administrator friend there."

Etor, the elusive Administrator of the World Dungeon dubbed Reverse Tower. Even with her restored memories, Ilymhrra didn't know him much, only that he was in cahoots with her pupil since a thousand years ago. Half of her soul was kept in his tower after all.

And he was a powerful mage, just like her.

“Oh, don’t be like that!” Mira smiled. “My agreement with him doesn’t include him defending me.”

“Your agreement? Mind telling me what that is?” The high elf narrowed her eyes.

“Nope! It’s our little secret!” She giggled, covering her mouth with the back of her hand. “If you want to know, you have to ask him yourself.”

Ilymhrra could only reply with an annoyed glare. She had tried talking to him before but he refused to say anything. Just like her.

“...I’m leaving. And I won’t be coming back for a while.”

With those final words, the high elf left her pupil.

She might agree now that the Heavenly Dragon needed to go but that didn’t mean she liked all the secrecy Mira was giving her. She knew she must have a plan beyond just supporting that vile Goddess and making Her slay the Heavenly Dragon for revenge. She might have grown awfully arrogant as she grew old but she also grew cleverer alongside it. She was unlike the cute little girl she once met on those streets a millenia ago.

If she painted a target against her like this, that meant she was ready to face off against Milicis. And she would win. She would open the path for the Goddess to strike at the Heavenly Dragon. And when She won…

The world would enter a new age.

‎

‎

Hugo

Quira. The city at the most northeastern edge of the Demon Continent.

We were finally here after nearly two months of traveling through that terrible swamp.

The land had turned back into solid earth, perfect for someone to build a town on.

And it was just what the centaurs did.

The small town was constructed perfectly to accommodate their tall, half-horse bodies. The doors were much larger and the tables were a lot higher. There were barely any chairs in sight, with some only there to accommodate the other races that visited the place.

I had visited this place once before, on my way to Sherry’s village. And just like then, it was still as bothersome and unpleasant as ever. It felt all wrong, walking down the brick roads, seeing how the buildings were larger than I used to. And I had to keep cranking up my neck to talk to the centaurs. Both male and female centaurs were about the same height, which was around one and a half of my height.

And yes, riding on them without permission was considered a grave offense. In fact, in centaur culture, it was considered almost the same thing as rape. It showed that you viewed them like a common horse, and not as an intelligent and sapient demon that they were.

Thankfully, we managed to get an inn friendly to us humans. Usually they would be all booked up. That’s what happened on my first visit. Had to sleep on an oversized bed.

Oh yes, centaurs did use beds. But they could sleep standing as well if there weren't any beds strong enough to take their weight around.

We wouldn’t stay long. We would just stay for a day to restock and rest and then depart west.

‎

"Oi oi, look at that! Ye see that redhead chick’s tits?!”

“Forget about her tits, dude! Look at the other chick near her! That ass!”

At night, I decided to make a visit to the inn's tavern. Despite my distaste of beer and drinking in general, it was the best spot to gather information on the going ons of the world. Well, other than the Adventurer’s Guild.

I didn’t go there alone, as Sherry and Felicia insisted they would tag along.

And, as I expected, perverted, drunken men began to ogle them the moment they walked into the room.

Well, I was fine with it, as long as they didn’t try to touch them. And Felicia, all too confident of her sexuality, was fine with it as well. Sherry, on the other hand, looked as if she was going to punch them at any second. Which would be bad. The centaur guards of this town were really serious in kicking out any outsiders who misbehaved. I saw it myself the last time I visited here, where they dragged a fishfolk merchant out of the city after he made a fuss in the markets. Something about being scammed by his partner there.

And, if the offense was serious enough, like murder, the guards would just execute you on the spot without any trial.

Yeah. Demon Continent really was a lawless place, even in a town that was more lawful than the others. Due process? What is that?

As we waded through the busy room, however, I noticed something… peculiar, to say the least.

There, in a far corner of the room, sat what I was pretty sure was two skeletons, sitting facing each other on one table.

Yeah, skeletons. Really.

One of them wore a purple robe while the other wore a red one. And, on the latter’s bald head, a small red ribbon rested.

The hell?

It wasn’t just me who stood agape at the sight. Sherry and Felicia as well. Especially Felicia.

“M-Milord, those… those are—”

“Skeletons, yeah. Talking with each other. Drinking, even though the liquid just goes straight through them.”

“Necromancer. A necromancer is here! There’s no doubt about it! They’re being animated by necromantic magic!”

“Gahahahahahaha! What are ye’ standing around there with yer jaws wide open?!”

We all turned to see who just spoke.

It was a bartender. A well-muscled bald man with three eyes. He was wiping a glass as he spoke to us, grinning as he did.

“Them two are our regulars. Sir Rattlebone and Young Lady Whitebone. No need to fear 'em. For the month they've been here, they never caused any trouble."

Sir Rattlebone? Lady Whitebone? The hell are those joke names? This really must be the work of some bored necromancer.

Felicia narrowed her eyes as she walked up to him. "You do know that skeletons can't move on their own, right? And the demonic mana here is nowhere thick enough to be able to reanimate a talking corpse on its own. That skeleton over there was too fine to be created naturally. The only explanation that makes sense is that you got a necromancer in your midst." She slammed her hands on the counter as she leaned forward. If one of the three eyes the bartender possessed had looked down, he would get an eyeful of her cleavage. Luckily for me, none of them did.

"A necromancer?" He burst into a laugh. "That would be something."

"You're not worried?"

"Why should I? Necromancy is just magic like any other! If there's someone pulling their strings, they're doing a really good job."

Felicia paused. She didn't expect that frank of an answer.

"Look. Just go talk to them. They're a pleasant sort. You'll like them in no time."

Felicia turned to face me, looking for my opinion.

"Yeah, sure." I smiled. "We can go meet them."

And so we resumed wading through the crowd until we stood in front of the skeleton pair. Quickly, I turned on my noble mode, giving a deep bow towards them.

"Greetings. The name's Hugo. An adventurer. And these two with me are Sherry and Felicia, also adventurers. Apologies for disturbing you but we were simply too curious to meet talking skeletons such as you."

"Eh?" The purple-robed one turned his head. "Hello there, Hugo the adventurer." He waved his bony hand. “Didn’t see you there. Probably because I had too much to drink. Harharharharhar!”

His jaw rattled up and down, simulating what was supposed to be a laugh.

Thinking about it, I was surprised his speech was so… clear and human-like. He shouldn’t be able to enunciate at all, being a skeleton and all.

Magic, of course. The explanation is always magic.

Wonder if Felicia can do something like this with her necromancy magic.

Well, she’s quitted the whole thing now so the answer is no, I guess.

"Hello, Mr. Hugo! You can call me White! White Bone! And over there is my uncle, Rattle Bone! We're from the Bone Family!"

The next to speak was the red-robed one. And she—yes, it's a she—spoke with a high-pitched girly voice that seriously took me aback.

It's as if she's a skeleton of a girl… maybe around fifteen to eighteen years old…

“Please, Adventurer Hugo. Sit down. And your girlfriends as well. Here. The drink’s on me.”

I caught a glance of Felicia and Sherry’s face reddening at that term. How cute.

“Ah, that would be wonderful, Sir Rattle Bone.” I flashed a polite smile. Really, this has to be a joke name, right?

The skeleton then clapped, calling over the nearby waitress to bring more chairs to the table.

“Lovely Chelise! Please! That gentleman and these ladies need to be seated!”

“Right away, Sir Bone!” She smiled, giving him a flirtatious wink. She too was a demon—some race that had three breasts instead of two. Ignoring the uncanny valley of the whole thing, they did indeed look as nice as normal human breasts…

She brought the three chairs in one visit, lifting them all up on top of one another as if she was some bodybuilder. Those chairs were made out of decently heavy wood and I would never expect an ordinary waitress to be able to lift them all up in one go. But I guess she has demon strength, just like Sherry.

After the waitress placed all of them, Mr. Rattle Bone flicked a demon ruby at her direction, which she readily caught.

Wow. A demon ruby? This guy is either loaded or sure is loaded. And where did he get that from? That robe doesn’t look like it has a pocket on it…

Demon rubies are one of the several currencies commonly used by the demons in the Demon Continent. The other ones were demon sapphires and demon topazes. In order of value, rubies were the first, then sapphires, then topazes. Just like gold, silver, and copper coins. As for the “demon” suffix, it came from the fact that the gems were specifically enchanted by the Demon Lord of Coins to differentiate themselves from ordinary rubies, sapphires, and topazes. Anyone who tried to use them other than as a currency would be cursed, or so they said. The Demon Lord himself was dead around half a millenia ago. Buried and choked under the mountain of gems he had hoarded supposedly.

What a pathetic way for a Demon Lord to die.

Though, it makes me wonder… shouldn’t the curse be lifted by now? Or does he have underlings who do it for them? Does the Continent have one central bank minting all their gems?

…Why am I thinking about this right now? Goddamnit Hugo you’re not an accountant anymore.

“Well, good Sir and Madams,” the skeleton spoke, bringing me out of my thoughts. “Please, take your seats. We’ll exchange some joyful tales of our travels.”

I exchanged glances with Sherry and Felicia. We all seemed to reluctantly agree.

‎

What happened next was, to put it simply, a dramatic reenactment of their trip through the Demon Continent.

With great glee, the two told us everything, up to the littlest details, from when they ended up in a tomb filled with skeletons, whom they quickly persuaded that they were their long-lost relatives, to a story about how Sir Rattle Bone here wooed a slime princess, before having to leave her behind after their first night, since he couldn’t “bone” her and she got angry because of it.

It was all so ridiculous I could scarcely believe them to be honest.

And Felicia seemed to share the same sentiment. She was glaring at them without breaking a single smile all the way through. Sherry, on the other hand, looked somewhat amused by it, even having to stifle a giggle once.

When they finished, a few hours had already passed. And my mug of light beer was already empty.

And we didn’t really get any of the information I wanted, for their stories were all fantastical. Even more so for a fantasy world like this.

And there it is. The lightheadedness begins.

It’s time we cut our losses and rest. Before I pass out.

Too bad Felicia had a different idea.

“So, you say you two are skeletons from a dungeon? And you just escaped on your own and gained sentience? That’s impossible. That’s not how necromancy works.”

“Eh?” Rattlebone tilted his skeleton head. “Really? How do you know?”

Immediately, Felicia turned pale.

…Goddamnit. Didn’t think she would make that type of mistake.

“Alright. That’s enough.” I put a hand on her shoulder. “Sorry, Sir Rattlebone but we have to get to sleep now. She’s getting too drunk for her own good.”

She looked at me with a confused stare, before quickly following up with, “Y-you’re right. I really should rest.”

“What? I can still get going.” Sherry protested. Of course, she just had to be dense enough to not realize the situation.

“Well, me and her are going back. Feel free to stay here if you want to.”

“Tch. Fine. We’ll go back.”

We stood up from our seats, quickly thanking them for their stories before making a beeline back upstairs, where our rooms were.

Whew, almost let out that sketchy part of her past.

She’s not a necromancer anymore. But she still retains her knowledge of those days. And, like any good nerd, she can’t stop herself from correcting him.

I’d rather people forget she’s ever gone down that route. It’s what she wants, judging by the sad expression she now has.

I did talk her out of it though… Just so she wouldn’t be obsessed with immortality and stopping death and all that. To be honest, I hold the same opinion as that bartender. Necromancy isn’t inherently evil. It’s just magic like any other.

But, delving into it means experimenting on corpses. And I don’t think I want Felicia to be doing that, like some sort of evil hag.

Giving the skeleton pair one last look, I left the tavern floor, with my arm wrapping around Felicia’s waist.

---

A/N:

By the way, I have a Discord server here. https://discord.gg/EvJhQQTyn2

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