SSS-Rank Hunter Reborn: Private Tutor to the Count's Bastard Son

"Cheers!"

Several beer mugs clashed in the air.

Despite being a holiday, there weren't many customers in the tavern. That made sense. This was one of the upscale taverns in Mullen.

"Come on, drink up. I'm buying everything today."

Alaf laughed heartily.

Then those around him asked with curiosity.

"What's gotten into you? You're the guy who runs up tabs every day..."

"Well, you called us out so we came."

Friends he usually enjoyed gambling with.

One of them jokingly asked.

"Don't tell me you found a gold nugget or something?"

"Hehe, that's right. I found one."

"Huh, really?"

"Yeah. A really big one."

Alaf grinned, showing his yellowed teeth.

He recalled the commission he'd recently received from a knight of the Count's household. And yesterday, he'd completed the curse dolls and delivered them to him. Along with the reminder that if he buried them near the targets, there would be a reaction in about three days.

Then the knight said he'd done well and paid the contract fee.

A whole ten gold coins.

It was enough money to drink at a place like this for three days and nights without running out.

"So don't even think about going home until we've drunk this place dry."

"Wow, that's the most welcome thing I've heard all year."

His friends giggled and laughed.

How much time had passed like that?

Empty bottles began to pile up on the table one by one. Everyone was nicely drunk, and instead of conversation, they started muttering whatever they wanted to say.

Alaf was no exception.

"...Curses, you see. Have grades."

With the help of alcohol, Alaf began to slowly reveal what he'd kept inside.

"The lower the curse, the more materials it requires."

First, you put part of the target's body inside the doll. Then you cast a death curse on each nail before pouring all your nether mana into the doll. Finally, you place the doll near the target and the work is done.

"It's complicated too. Anyway, it's a pain."

After three days, they'll suffer and die within two weeks. Of course, if they have curse resistance or call a priest from a temple, it'll all be for nothing.

But the knight had assured him that wouldn't happen, so this commission was as good as successful. As long as the doll's existence wasn't discovered.

"Well, I'm sure they'll handle that well."

From the moment he made the dolls and handed them to the knight, Alaf had done his part.

So he drank his cup with peace of mind.

"But high-grade curses..."

The realm he'd dreamed of his entire life.

Just as he was about to mutter about that.

"What's with this gloomy talk all of a sudden?"

"More importantly, let's order more drinks. We're all out."

His friends shook the empty bottles.

Seeing this, Alaf returned to reality. He locked away the feelings he'd half-opened again. Then he shouted in his usual hearty manner.

"What? That won't do. Order more! Bring all the drinks here!"

As soon as the order ended, new bottles filled the table.

Alaf grinned and picked up a bottle.

That's when it happened.

[Found you.]

Shiver—

Alaf felt the alcohol suddenly leave his system.

Because someone had whispered in a cold voice right by his ear.

He jumped up from his seat with a startled face. Then his friends asked with puzzled expressions.

"What's wrong? Why are you suddenly like this?"

"Is something wrong?"

But Alaf didn't respond. He just looked around with a pale face. However, he couldn't see anyone suspicious.

"N-no. It's nothing."

He stammered and sat back down.

His friends made bland expressions and continued their conversation.

'What was that?'

A hallucination? But it was too clear to be a hallucination.

A puzzled look settled on Alaf's face.

But that was only momentary. As the alcohol hit him nicely, Alaf quickly forgot about it. Then he laughed and chatted with his friends to his heart's content.

And so the night grew deeper and deeper.

***

"Ugh, I'm drunk."

The drinking session didn't end until nearly dawn.

When he arrived home with staggering steps, the creaking floorboards welcomed him.

Whoosh—

A lit candle. The small room became brightly lit.

Soon an unsightly scene came into view.

Mold growing in the corners of the ceiling.

Musty smells wafted from here and there.

On the table were murky-colored reagent bottles, and sounds of mice scurrying could be heard from the ceiling.

"This damn hovel will be over soon too."

Soon he'd receive a hundred gold coins.

Then he'd have to change houses right away. He'd make a basement and practice curses in there. Then even he, who lacked talent, would surely be able to grow.

Maybe the grade of his curses would increase.

Alaf's hazy eyes sparkled.

"If the grade increases..."

He wouldn't need to wait two weeks—he could kill his target in three days.

Or the materials needed for curses would be cut in half.

Either way would be a satisfying result.

"...If I could be a bit more greedy."

Maybe his 'necromancer's grade' would increase.

He'd heard this story before. Really high-grade necromancers don't need any other materials. They can curse and kill someone just by knowing their name.

"But there's no way such necromancers exist."

It was truly a dream-like story.

Alaf chuckled.

"Let's just sleep."

After roughly throwing off his clothes, he walked toward the front door.

Because he'd forgotten to lock the door.

But at that moment!

Puff—

The candlelight went out.

"What?"

There wasn't even any wind?

Alaf frowned. He couldn't see ahead.

Just as he was approaching to relight the candle.

Shiver—

He suddenly felt a chill from behind.

Startled, he looked back. And was horrified.

"...!"

Something was standing in front of the entrance.

Something that looked like white smoke.

Looking closely, it had a human form. A being wearing full plate armor with a sword in one hand and a shield in the other.

It looked like a knight.

"Ugh, uuugh!"

With an unseemly scream.

Alaf collapsed on the spot. His body trembled.

Because he realized what that was.

"A-a corrupted specter knight...!"

A famous specter that any necromancer would know.

That's because it was a specter with 'Hero' grade. A being that only necromancers with equal or higher grade could command.

That was the 'Corrupted Specter Knight.'

But it was too early to be surprised. He could see something like gray fog slowly descending from the ceiling. The writhing fog soon took shape.

Soon seven eyes stared at Alaf.

"...!"

He knew what that was too.

Evil Spirit of Seven Sins. Likewise, a being with Hero grade.

Finally, a sphere the size of a watermelon shot up from the floor.

Something covered all over with thorns like a sea urchin. It was also a 'Rotten Thorn Spirit' with Hero grade.

"Ugh, uah, uuu..."

Teeth chattering up and down.

All strength left his body. Between his legs became wet.

His consciousness was dominated by fear. He couldn't do anything. He could only tremble like prey placed before a predator.

Then the three specters moved their lips.

[The King of All Unholy Things has spoken.]

[We judge the sin of disrespect.]

[Pay with death.]

The knight's sword, the seven eyes, the sharp thorns all aimed at Alaf.

Soon the specters joined their voices as if in chorus.

[Alaf Torman.]

As soon as his name was called.

Crack—!

"Ugh, uaaaaah!"

His arms and legs bent in strange ways.

As if something invisible had forcibly twisted his limbs.

But the specters' words weren't over yet.

When his name was called a second time, this time blood gushed out.

Eyes and nose, ears and mouth. Blood spurting from every opening in his body!

He wanted to beg for his life, but he couldn't. Because of the bloody foam blocking his throat, no words could come out.

With that final word as a signal.

Crack!

With a gruesome sound, Alaf collapsed.

His left chest spread with blood.

His heart had burst.

Confirming his death, the specters disappeared as if they had never existed.

Like smoke, mysteriously.

***

The next day.

Ferda visited Silvan's room for breakfast.

And was at a loss for words.

Silvan's appearance was terrible.

"Don't tell me..."

Bloodshot eyes. Rough hair. A bed with no signs of being slept in.

Putting these three things together, the answer came quickly.

"Didn't you sleep last night?"

"Ha, haha."

Silvan laughed awkwardly while scratching his cheek.

"Well, you see..."

His eyes rolled around.

Soon, as if he'd found a suitable excuse, he continued.

"The b-book was too interesting. I was reading and lost track of time..."

"Book?"

Ferda looked at the skill book on the table. It didn't look like it had been opened much, and now he was using that as an excuse.

He picked up the skill book with a frown.

"...!"

Then he was shocked.

=====

*[Name]: [Understanding Curses]

*[Grade]: A-rank

*[Pages]: 350/350 (Completed)

*[Status]: [Curse Skill] acquisition complete.

=====

'He read all this in one night?'

Ferda's eyes went wide.

Reading a book overnight might not be that difficult.

But skill books aren't ordinary books. Magic power is consumed with each page read. It would normally take a month for an ordinary person.

But he completed it in one night.

It was natural to be surprised.

'Let's see what skill he got.'

With eyes sparkling with curiosity, he opened Silvan's skill window.

And soon his mouth dropped open.

=====

[Ability]: Death's Message

[Grade]: Legend

[Stage]: 1/5

[Effect]: Takes a target's life by calling their name three times. However, the target must be two grades below the caster for it to activate. Also, if the target is higher level than the caster, the instant death probability decreases.

*Magic consumption: 100*3

*Instant death probability: 100% (decreases by –10% for each level above 1.)

=====

'...What is this now?'

It was a Legend-grade curse.

And it looked much better than Death Eyes. Of course, it had the disadvantage of needing to know the target's name and requiring various conditions to activate.

As he stared blankly at the skill window.

"Ferda?"

Silvan's voice awakened him.

Coming to his senses, Ferda gave a short cough.

"Ahem! It's good to be enthusiastic, but..."

Getting a curse was praiseworthy.

But not sleeping was a separate matter.

"You're still a patient. What if your body breaks down?"

Managing condition was important.

It might be fine right now, but if he developed bad habits, he'd stay up all night doing something later too. So it was better to give him a stern word now.

Meanwhile, at the scolding words, Silvan's body flinched.

"...Sorry."

Drooping eyebrows. His long ears drooped along with them.

A dejected appearance. This should be enough.

He patted Silvan's shoulder and spoke.

"I'll let it slide since it's the first time. Sleep properly from today. Got it?"

"Mmm, I will."

Silvan grinning.

Ferda burst into laughter.

"Then let's eat breakfast. You must be hungry."

Having looked at books all night without sleeping, he must be hungry.

He went outside to call a servant. Watching Ferda like that, Silvan let out a sigh of relief.

Around that time.

A voice that only Silvan could hear came.

[My King.]

[We have judged the sinner and returned.]

The sinner the specters spoke of.

The culprit who had dared to try to curse and kill Ferda without knowing his place.

A bastard named 'Alaf Torman.'

[We broke the sinner's limbs and made him vomit blood.]

[Finally we burst his heart.]

[He met his end in terror.]

The curse was successful.

Silvan raised the corners of his mouth.

"Silvan. We can choose between lamb and duck, so which do you... Huh?"

Then Ferda, who had gone outside, returned.

Seeing Silvan's face, he tilted his head and asked.

"Is there some good news?"

"No, it's nothing."

Silvan shook his head and smiled brightly.

It was a smile that only someone whose worries had disappeared could make.