Karnak, Monarch of Death-Chapter 148: Maleficus Dungeon (3)

They stood before a massive cavern towering several meters high. Every stone wall was engraved with relief murals depicting the culture of an ancient race. At the center, a thick pillar rose, supporting the ceiling.

Though the relentless passage of time had worn down much of the detail, an air of antiquated elegance still lingered throughout the space. And yet, that grand chamber was covered in laundry of all shapes and colors.

Serati clicked her tongue as she took in the sight. "Well, that certainly adds a touch of domesticity."

What should have been a solemn ancient ruin had turned into something resembling the backyard of a dormitory.

Leven let out a wry chuckle. "Even cultists are people. They need clean clothes too."

Lapicel tilted her head. "But why would they hang their laundry near an uninhabited area?”

Monsters were bound to appear just a little farther out. It seemed odd that they would let people come and go just to do laundry in such a place.

Varos shook his head. "It's the opposite."

They had hung their laundry here precisely because it was near an uninhabited area.

"It's not that strange. Even in fortresses, people dry their laundry and vegetables in the courtyards near the cliffs."

Places designated for such chores were usually tucked away in remote corners. This place only seemed unusual because it was a dungeon.

"Now that you mention it, that makes sense."

Carefully, they maneuvered through the hanging laundry. Just as they were about to exit the cavern and step into another corridor, Milia suddenly stopped in her tracks.

"Did you sense it, captain?"

"Yeah. A necromancer."

Karnak raised a hand, signaling the group to halt.

"Looks like he's keeping watch around here."

"Keeping watch... might not be the right way to put it."

They moved a little closer. Only after catching sight of their target did they understand what Milia had meant. At the far end of the corridor was a massive iron door blocking the passage. A man in his thirties, dressed in a black robe, lay sprawled out. And he wasn't just lying there. He had curled up his cloak to use as a pillow and was sound asleep, snoring loudly.

Varos let out a small laugh. “He’s not even trying to stand guard."

Even so, they couldn't simply ignore him and walk past him.

Leven gestured toward the four stone statues flanking the corridor. "Looks like he's relying on those instead."

The statues radiated a dense aura of darkness. It wasn't hard to guess what they were.

“They’re gargoyles."

Normally, gargoyles remained as motionless as statues, but at a command, they would instantly awaken and attack intruders. Their stone-like bodies made them particularly troublesome foes.

"If they wake up, that is.” Karnak smirked as he turned to the group. "How about a little Seventh Squad-style fishing?"

Milia, Varos, and Serati all smiled in response.

***

Among the necromancers, standing guard at the laundry area on the outskirts of the residential zone was considered the best assignment. Beyond this point lay the uninhabited zone, so they couldn't afford to leave it completely unwatched. But thanks to the powerful necromantic domain, monsters had almost no chance of breaking into the residential area.

That was why the sentry duty here was treated as little more than an extended nap break. Valter, a second-class dark priest of the Black God’s Church’s Wellad branch, was no exception. He was sprawled out at the end of the corridor, savoring his blissful sleep.

Mmph!

Something clamped down over his mouth. Startled, Valter's eyes snapped open.

What... what's happening?!

A glowing gag had wrapped around his lips. Panicking, he reached up with both hands to pull it off.

Clink!

The sound of chains uncoiling rang out, and something tightened viciously around his throat. His breath caught. His mind reeled as dizziness washed over him.

"Gah!"

Lying on the floor, he struggled frantically. He had to wake the gargoyles. That was the only way to turn this around. But there was no time. The chains constricting his neck yanked him off the ground in an instant.

"Mmmph!"

Dragged helplessly across the floor, Valter continued to struggle.

If I can just move my mouth, I can wake the gargoyles!

No—he didn't even need to speak. If he could just focus his mind and channel the power of darkness, he could activate them! But it was too late. By the time he realized it, his body had already been pulled to the other end of the corridor.

He was too far from the statues now. Even if his mouth were free, there was no way he could wake the gargoyles anymore. A man with black hair, someone he had never seen before, appeared before him.

"Fly-fishing successful."

"Mmff! Mmmph!"

As Valter thrashed in a panic, Milia rolled up her sleeves. "Shall we start the interrogation?"

Serati turned to look at her in disbelief. Milia’s cheeks were flushed with excitement.

Was Milia always like this?

When she had first joined the Seventh Squad, hadn't she shuddered just from hearing a cultist's screams? Back then, Karnak had even taken her off interrogation duty, and she had been grateful for it.

Milia clasped her hands together in prayer. "Latiel, please grant me the right to righteous torture."

Valter’s face turned ashen. He had never heard such terrifying words in his life.

"Mmmphhh!"

***

Ten minutes later, Valter, too, had been touched by the goddess's grace and was now fully cooperative. Unfortunately, he knew nothing about Edia. That wasn't surprising. She wasn't exactly a famous figure. However, he knew someone that might know who she was.

"The believers in the residential area are overseen by the first-class Priest Sores. If anyone knows, it would be him."

Milia scoffed. “It’s nothing new, but it's still ridiculous every time I hear it. Calling themselves priests when they're just cultists...”

Valter then spilled everything about Sores' residence, how to get there, and even the layout of the underground structures nearby. As expected, the church’s interrogation techniques were quite effective.

"Well, since we've gotten everything we need from him...” Milia's eyes gleamed as she pulled out a pipe. "Shall we bury him?"

They couldn't dig a hole like they would in a forest. After all, the structure was made of stone. But there were plenty of broken fragments scattered around. A pile of debris stacked up like a stone coffin would do just fine. And so, Valter was buried alive while still unconscious.

At first, everyone had been hesitant. But by now, they had grown disturbingly comfortable with burying people as needed. It really was true—humans were creatures of adaptation. After cleaning up, Karnak's group resumed their discussion.

"Now we just need to find this Sores guy."

The residential area was bound to have a large number of cultists. Keeping that in mind, Leven spoke up. "The safest approach would be infiltrating in disguise."

The problem was that to disguise themselves, they needed the right outfits.

“Damn..." Karnak glanced toward where Valter had been buried and muttered in annoyance. "Are we going to have to dig him up, strip him, and then bury him again?"

Lapicel raised a hesitant hand. "If it's disguises you need..."

She pointed behind them. "Would those work?"

The entire party turned to look past her shoulder. Hanging all around them was an abundance of disguises, disguises that had been drying under the name of laundry.

***

The residential area felt less like a village and more like a military barracks. Everyone wore the same outfit, black robes with skull pendants, and focused solely on their assigned tasks. Amidst them, six members of the Black God's cult moved through the streets, each carrying an armful of laundry. It was Karnak’s group, now in disguise.

As they passed, the other cultists on guard duty acknowledged them casually.

"Hm? Laundry duty?"

"Keep up the good work."

Despite being unfamiliar faces, no one seemed suspicious. They were located so deep in the dungeon that the cultists had no reason to expect outsiders. It also helped that the Wellad branch's population had recently surpassed 300 members.

That wasn't a huge number, but it wasn't small enough for everyone to recognize each other on sight either. And with their similar robes, distinguishing individuals was difficult. It was even more difficult for women, since they all wore hoods. The only issue was that, from time to time, some men would be drawn to Serati's beauty.

“Wait, was there always a woman that gorgeous here?"

"Miss, when did you join our church?"

Those who asked such questions were quietly led into secluded rooms and dealt with. In other words, they were left as warm bodies with a pipe serving as their lifeline. They passed through the residential area without issue and pressed forward until they finally reached their destination, Sores’s quarters. It was located deep within a corridor carved into one side of a massive cavern.

"Is that the place?"

Sensing movement, Lapicel frowned. “Sores is not alone."

Subduing him as quietly as possible would make things much easier. Leven ran his fingers along the door, then pulled out a lockpick. "I'll handle the lock."

His skills were, as expected, top-notch. The door opened without a sound. They moved further down the corridor and arrived at a large bedroom. A girl, half-naked, sat trembling on the bed.

"Pl-please, don't do this!"

"Heh heh heh, just do as you're told."

A middle-aged man with a protruding belly, his shirt removed, leered as he pushed the girl down.

"This is all according to Tesranach's will. Now, come here..."

It was the scene of an older man using his position to prey on a young girl. Anyone with even a shred of decency would feel nothing but rage at the sight. Yet Karnak's party did not look the slightest bit angry.

Uh...

Um...

Is this...?

Karnak and Varos were one thing, but even Serati, Milia, and Lapicel showed no signs of fury. Only a strange mix of disbelief, confusion, and awkwardness filled their expressions.

What the hell is this...?

Belatedly, the middle-aged man—Sores—realized he had an audience. He whirled around.

"Wh-who's there?!” He shouted as he hurriedly hid the half-naked girl behind him. "How dare you enter without permission?!"

His face was flushed red, whether from rage or embarrassment. The party simply clicked their tongues.

"I've seen plenty of filthy necromancers before, but..."

"This is a new level of disgusting."

Serati and Leven's remarks had their reasons.

"That's a zombie."

Indeed. Sores was using necromancy to control a zombie girl. He was playing out a twisted scene by himself. Even Karnak and Varos, who had witnessed all kinds of atrocities in their conquest of the world, had never imagined something this unusual.

"But how is the zombie speaking so well?"

"It's ventriloquism."

In other words, that sweet, pleading voice had come from Sores himself.

"Was this really necessary?"

"My thoughts exactly. I've never seen someone so repulsively pathetic."

Their eyes bore into Sores, filled with equal parts disgust and pity.

"N-no, you misunderstand! This is simply the process of being reborn as a warrior of the cult—"

Sores frantically waved his hands in protest, but then his expression shifted. As the overseer of the residential area, he knew most of the cult's members by face.

"Wait! You're not one of our followers!"

For a moment, his face betrayed relief. It was a relief that those who had witnessed his shameful act were not fellow cultists.

Varos stepped forward with a sneer. "I don't think you're in a position to be relieved right now."

“Ah, damn!”

Only then did Sores grasp the situation. These were intruders. He hastily attempted to command the zombie to attack, but it was already too late.

"Not so fast."

Varos drove his fist deep into Sores' solar plexus. With a single punch, his entire body seized up, his legs giving way beneath him.

"Guhh!"

As Sores groaned in pain, Karnak looked down at him with a grimace. People always talked about putting themselves in others' shoes, but he had never truly understood the concept. Now, though, he was starting to get it.

Was I really no better than this?