69: What Was Lost
I was listening to Harken recount his previous work experience when he dropped a rather shocking power word: ‘property of the Undead Army.’
“…Did you just say… property?”
“Indeed.”
“Why?”
“Because I was a summoned creature, sealed within a summoning device. Awaiting a master, I answered Eldritch-dono’s summons as a temporary master during border defense battles.”
“I know this is a basic question, but are summoned creatures different from… undead?”
“Essentially, they are the same. Some undead are summoned through a medium of corpses and residual soul energy, rather than being naturally occurring. But if an undead runs out of mana, it dies… its existence is extinguished. A summoned creature simply returns to its summoning device.”
“That’s convenient.”
“In exchange, summoned creatures must obey their summoner, if the conditions are met. And they die if their summoning device is destroyed. It’s a rather inconvenient position.”
“You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to, but why are you in that position?”
“Because I was once a dark knight. I simply wished to continue fighting after death.”
“You were a dark knight? So, you might have worked under Bridget—I mean, Bringit Finis?”
“No. I never served under her.” Harken clicked his teeth.
“I died shortly after the founding of this nation.”
“What?!”
This was year 420 of the nation’s founding.
“So, you’re over four hundred years old?”
“If I were alive, yes.” Harken nodded.
“You’re a veteran…”
“Indeed. But I am now a mere summoned creature, your servant. You may treat me as such.”
“I see. Understood.” I nodded. An older subordinate, but in a military organization, rank should be respected. And it was reassuring to hear him say so.
“…May I ask… why you chose to fight after death, and how?”
“I cannot tell you how. But before my death, I had a contractual spell surgically carved into my spine. It’s a lost art now.” Harken tapped his exposed spine with a gloved finger.
“This is me. The condition of my body is that I cannot wear clothing or armor that covers this. Thanks to that, I’m better off than an ordinary skeleton.”
“I was wondering why you’d expose your weakness.”
“It is a weakness, but by exposing it, my opponents are more likely to target it. It actually makes fighting easier.” The words of a master.
“As for why… I’ve never told anyone this before… but perhaps I can tell you, my master.” The eerie blue-green will-o’-the-wisps in his eye sockets flickered.
“There was a woman I loved.”
“Details.”
“Quite the eager listener. …But it’s a short story.”
Harken began his tale.
“I was a dark knight, and she was an ordinary citizen. Even after the nation was founded and its forces gathered, we were a ragtag group. Our numbers were far smaller then. Our chain of command was a chaotic mess, with only His Majesty the Demon King at the top. …So, we suffered defeat after defeat, losing territory after territory. Our homeland was one of those territories.”
That was the beginning of this nation, over four hundred years ago. A history of hardship and defeat.
“I wanted to protect her. And I didn’t want to be weak.”
“…Were you able to?”
“She probably escaped… but I don’t know.”
“You don’t know…?”
“I died on the battlefield. …And I left many of my memories in the underworld.”
Undead were distinctly different from their living counterparts. They were not the same.
Many undead used the same names they had in life. Some even retained their memories. But many memories were lost, and without absorbing the mana of the living, they couldn’t even exist.
That was what it meant to be undead.
“All that remained was my swordsmanship and the knowledge that I was a protector of this nation.” Harken’s voice was tinged with sadness.
“Her face, her name… I can’t remember them clearly anymore. Though I do remember trying not to forget.”
“Harken…”
I realized what I felt for Harken. Empathy. Sympathy. I must have subconsciously sensed our shared experience of losing precious memories.
“Don’t look at me like that, my master.”
“But…” What kind of face was I making? At least, one that would make him say that.
But I understood. Because I knew what it was like to lose something precious from within yourself. To know that something you shouldn’t have lost, something irreplaceable, was gone forever.
I understood that feeling.
“It’s in the past. When this body died, Harken, the dark knight, died.”
The me who had been a corporate drone in modern Japan… was dead. But even so.
“But I will still fight. Even if I no longer have a knight’s pride, I still have something I want to protect.”
As he spoke those words, despite his claim, Harken looked like a knight. No matter what he said, this death knight hadn’t abandoned his pride.
A knight’s duty wasn’t to some shallow chivalric code from a storybook.
“And I find you, my master, to be a reliable leader. …We must win. By any means necessary.”
“Yes.” I nodded, as the Lord of Disease.
“Harken—this conversation didn’t go as I expected… but I’m glad we talked.”
“As am I.” Harken nodded deeply.
As I left Harken’s room, I ran into Liz.
“Oh. An unusual pairing.”
“Liz.”
“We were just having an enjoyable conversation.”
Liz gave me a sidelong glance.
“…What were you two doing, alone?”
“It’s not what you think.” I turned and glanced at Harken.
“We were just talking. Getting to know each other.”
“Indeed. A new subordinate and a new superior.” Harken rattled his jawbone, laughing.
