Chapter 65
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Whoooooooosh
The moment the box opened, a low, heavy whistle, like the sound of a ship’s horn, echoed. Calicia’s consciousness sank slowly, following that strange melody.
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Ha, ugh…! Ha, ugh…!
In the pitch-black darkness, Calicia breathed heavily. Uncertainty and fear, belonging to no one in particular, swept over her entire body.
The stench brushing past her nose, the cool air—where was she? Calicia’s trembling hands groped along the floor. A damp, slippery sensation climbed her fingertips.
Thud… thud…
At the sound of footsteps in the distance, Calicia shrank instinctively.
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Ugh, blep! Ugh, bblep!
Her hair was grabbed roughly, and something thin and threadlike was shoved into her mouth. Calicia spat and twisted her tongue wildly.
Splash!
But it didn’t last. The water pressed down on her throat. Flailing in pain, Calicia sank beneath the surface.
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Whoooooooosh
The eerie whistling returned, pulling at her soul. Submerged deep underwater, Calicia swam as if entranced, following the sound. Each time she moved, dark blue flesh spread like paint. Soon, she realized she was surrounded by walls—all brick.
Splash!
A clump of hair floated before her empty eyes, swaying with the waves. Calicia laughed without knowing why. Bits of flesh—whether lips or tongue—splashed and sank into the water.
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“Let’s climb on that… it’s calling me… let’s climb… climb… hehe!”
A murderous desire and excitement she had never felt before surged to her head. With her mouth torn wide, Calicia shot forward like a snake.
“……Guh, ugh!”
The clump of hair was shoved into her throat again, snapping her mind back to reality.
“Uwaaaah!”
Calicia collapsed forward. Clinging to the wall, she vomited up who-knows-what.
“Balus!”
Seeing Calicia spewing black water, Ian patted her back firmly.
“Get it all out. It’s okay—just let it all come up.”
Ian kept rubbing her back.
“…Water… well.”
Resting her head briefly on Ian’s chest, Calicia looked around. Despite her hoarse, broken voice, her eyes shone vividly.
“Is there a well here?”
Ian, understanding her, called out to Pale.
“Yes, yes! This way!”
Pale, surprised by Calicia’s condition, hurried to lead them. He guided them along the warehouse wall to a hillside path on the right. Soon, a roofed well appeared.
Thump, thump, thump—
Calicia’s heart raced. Step by step, she carefully approached the well.
“…Damn it, ugh, uck!”
Peering into the well, Calicia fought back rising nausea. It was the same well wall she had seen when empathizing with the water spirit.
“Pale, do you get water from this well?”
“Yes. Not for drinking—only for quenching at the forge.”
“…So that’s where it stuck.”
Calicia sighed. Naturally, quenching would splash water and steam, and the well water had been contaminated with the water spirit.
“Pale, where does this well connect?”
Calicia’s gaze sank deep into the well. Following this waterway could lead them to the one who used living people as sacrifices.
“It should connect to the underground sewers.”
“Close off this well and don’t use it for a while.”
This was a place crawling with water spirits, made by human hands. Even if they left, the taint remained.
“If you say ‘close it,’ how long exactly, miss?”
“Until I tell you to open it again.”
Calicia turned sharply, her fists clenched, her anger coiling coldly.
“Imperial religions and their sects, what is shamanism, the origins of black magicians, the world of souls, understanding necromancers, and also…”
Entering the training hall with tired eyes, Calicia rattled off the books she had read last night, hoping to find any clue behind the water spirit incident.
‘No matter how I think about it, this wasn’t the work of just one person.’
Forcing living people underwater to become spirits—this kind of killing drained immense magical energy and caused severe backlash. It was far beyond what a single person could handle.
‘Moreover, they secretly collected the hair of their targets. That means they knew exactly who to sacrifice.’
The water spirits had died with the hair of their targets clamped in their mouths. In shamanism, the human body is the most powerful spiritual medium. Holding it in their mouths, the karmic bond had been tightly entwined.
‘So no exorcism or cleansing could do anything. They just needed to grasp the connection and come back.’
Calicia bit her cheek hard. What kind of lunatics would do such a thing?
“So, did you find anything?”
Snapping out of her thoughts, she turned to Ian’s voice.
“…Uh, no. Astonishingly, no useful info. There are cults that do human sacrifices, but nothing about controlling spirits. Judging by their actions, though, they definitely know their stuff.”
Exhausted, Calicia plopped down beside Ian. Curling up and reading all night had left her sore all over.
“So, I’ve decided to give up on that for now and just do what we can: the exorcism ritual.”
“Do you need my help?”
“Of course you do,” she said without hesitation. Ian’s quick agreement made Calicia’s eyes widen.
“You’re not trying to chase away a water spirit, are you? Don’t stall—tell me what you need.”
“Need? Plenty. Flagpoles, plain cloth, chickens, brass bowls, raw rice, wizards, shamans, drums, dried fish, seaweed, apples, pears, drums, gongs, …”
“Just tell me what’s actually possible.”
Ian raised his hand at the endless list.
“Actually, I need instruments. One of the most important things for the ritual is music… but Arkea doesn’t have the instruments I need.”
Music is vital for rituals because it embeds the energy to repel evil—it’s like a strong buff.
“So, how much do you trust the northern knights?”
Calicia smiled sweetly and blinked her eyes.
[Job Posting]
Qualifications: Northern Knight Order members
Position: Bard
Recruitment Period: Today
Preferred: Virile
Hours: Flexible
Pay: Generous
Recruiter: Calicia Balus / Ian Lakies
Interview Location: Training Hall
The northern knights gathered, buzzing at the sight of the notice pinned to the target board. Though it seemed like a joke, it bore the seal of the Duke’s house, making it official.
“A bard? Why a bard?”
“Preferred: virile? What does that even mean?”
The more they looked, the more puzzling it became. How did singing relate to… stamina? Some opera singers even castrate themselves to avoid vocal damage.
“Virile? You’re out.”
“He’s introducing himself—he’s out.”
The knights chuckled amongst themselves, not taking the announcement seriously… yet.
“Attention!”
Calicia’s loud voice rang across the training hall.
“As you’ve seen, we are recruiting a bard. Those confident in their singing, please apply. As for pay…”
Calicia pulled a noticeably heavy pouch from her arms. All eyes were immediately on her hand.
“This much.”
She untied the pouch and tipped it downward.
Clatterrrr—
Gold coins, brighter than the sun, poured down like rain.
Gale Longs, a Brunet knight, hesitantly stepped into the hall. In one corner, a desk and chair appeared from who knows where.
[Judges’ Seats]
With a slightly crude paper pad. Gale’s face constantly shifted with the strange atmosphere—funny, nerve-wracking all at once.
“Participant number 1, please introduce yourself.”
Soon, Calicia and Ian sat at the judges’ seats with cold expressions.
“Uh, Gale Longs. From Northern Linton Village. I’m skilled with swords and spears?”
“Let’s hear a song first. The test is simple: repeat a line I sing.”
Calicia stood and cleared her throat. Singing felt awkward after so long.
“Neokiya—Nehiya—Neokiroda.”
Her sad, resonant voice filled the hall.
“Neokiya—Nehiya—Neokiroda.”
Gale clumsily repeated the pronunciation and finished.
“The pitch is roughly correct.”
“Then am I passed?”
“No, one more thing. Did you see the preferred qualification? Do you meet it?”
Calicia stared at Gale, emphasizing its importance. As a water spirit, the enemy was a highly yin spirit. A strong yang male voice could serve as a substitute instrument.
“V… uh, yes. I do, but… hard to prove. Let’s just say I feel energetic even in the morning.”
Gale flexed his arm awkwardly, not the right thing to say in front of a princess.
“The results will be notified later. Step out.”
Ian seriously wrote something on the judging sheet.
[Somewhat dirty / -50 points]
Calicia sneaked a glance and laughed quietly—unaware it would be the last laugh of the day.
