The Suspects of Necromancy Volume 1 Chapter 3

After I was bought by my master, I traveled a long distance by carriage and was brought to this royal capital.
 
We hardly talked on the way. I tried hard to make conversation, but my master only responded when necessary.
 
I asked why he bought me, and he simply said,
 
“To make you my apprentice.”
 
An apprentice to a wizard?
 
Considering my Asra bloodline, it might not have been a strange idea, but I had never thought about becoming a wizard, and Molly never taught me magic, so I was worried.
 
But he paid a lot of money for me, so I had to meet his expectations.
 
Why listen to someone who buys people? It’s obvious!
 
He paid money for me. Do you know how hard it is to earn that amount? Even a knight’s salary for ten years wouldn’t be enough!
 
My master saw value in me equivalent to that money.
 
It was important for me to live up to that expectation.
 
Human value can’t be measured in money?
 
For us, who lived in a human trafficking house, our value was the amount we were worth.
 
Of course, it might be a wrong value system,
 
but thanks to Molly’s strict education, I had pride.
 
I was determined to prove I was worth even more.
 
So, when I was told I’d be an apprentice wizard, I decided to start by calling him “Master.”
 
The first time I called him Master, he reacted a bit strangely. Just that once. He got used to it quickly.
 
The house my master took me to was a grand mansion right next to a large cemetery.
 
It was grand in size, but the white mansion was covered in ivy, the garden was overgrown with weeds, and there were creaking sounds from doors or windows even without wind. It had an eerie, gloomy atmosphere. The gate was decaying.
 
Even though it was a sunny day, it felt like this place was the only cloudy spot.
 
It was so ominous and unwelcoming that I didn’t want to go near it. Even ruins have a more welcoming appearance.
 
You knew this about my master from your investigation, right?
 
But it turns out, that was a barrier.
 
It was designed to keep people away by instilling such an unapproachable impression.
 
So, feeling unwilling to approach is normal.
 
The proximity to the cemetery made it easier to set such a barrier. For my master, who specialized in necromancy, having a cemetery nearby was convenient.
 
But I think there are limits.
 
When I entered the mansion, I was shocked.
 
It was filthy!
 
Cobwebs everywhere, bones that looked like human ones scattered around, and random things strewn about. It was the worst.
 
Even without the barrier, no one would enter such a house. Even burglars would run away.
 
It was a stark contrast to human trafficking house that Molly’s always clean
 
I felt a chill down my spine. “I can’t live in such a place!”
 
I told my master immediately.
 
“I have a request!”
 
“What is it?”
 
“Please let me clean!”
 
“If you want to leave…
Clean?”
 
My master had an indescribable expression.
 
He looked around the mansion and then muttered.
 
“Is it really that dirty?”
 
“Yes, it is undeniably dirty.”
 
“I see. Fine, clean it.”
 
“Do you have cleaning tools?”
 
“I haven’t used them, so I don’t know, but they must be somewhere.”

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Thus, my exploration of the mansion began.
 
It was a haunted garbage house, literally. And there were real ghosts, or rather undead, because my master was a necromancer.
 
When I first saw ghouls and skeletons, I thought my heart would stop.
 
They even attacked me, mistaking me for an intruder!
 
My master immediately stopped them and made them recognize me as a superior being.
 
So, the undead started listening to me.
 
I thought I should make use of them.
 
Wasn’t I scared of the undead?
 
Of course, I was at first.
 
But you get used to it. In the end, living humans are the scariest.
 
You have to use whatever you can.
 
I found cleaning tools and started a massive cleaning operation.
 
But there were limits to what I could do alone, especially since I was still a small child.
 
I desperately needed help, so I borrowed it. From the undead.
 
I tried giving various orders to the mute skeletons, but they couldn’t follow detailed instructions at all.
 
Well, they’re skeletons, after all. Their heads are empty.
 
But they could understand general orders, so I made them carry heavy things.
 
My master watched this with great interest.
 
“Using the undead is fundamental for a necromancer,” he said.
 
Apparently, me using skeletons was a good thing as a wizard’s apprentice.
 
So, I used them.
 
Since they had big scythes, I made them cut the grass.
 
The garden was cleaned up quickly. The big scythes also made it easy to cut the ivy covering the mansion.
 
What kind of scythe was it?
 
A large scythe meant to be held with both hands.
 
The handle was about as long as a spear. It’s convenient, you know, for various tasks. It can even cut high branches.
 
How many skeletons with scythes were there?
 
Three. If you sneak into the mansion, you’ll be cut by those scythes, so be careful.
 
Your face looks pale. Shall I continue?
 
It took a whole month to clean the mansion.
 
It was really dirty. But when I finished, I felt deeply moved. It might have been the most fulfilling moment of my life.
 
The corridors were sparkling. All the junk was sorted and organized. The garden was neat, and I buried the ghouls in the ground.
 
Why did I bury the ghouls?
 
Because they smelled. They were corpses, after all. Of course, they would smell since their bodies were rotting.
 
I made the skeletons dig holes, had the ghouls lie in them, and then had the skeletons cover them up.
 
They didn’t die… they’re already dead but not unusable.
 
It’s a shallow hole, They could crawl out anytime from the shallow graves.
 
They would probably come out if someone stepped into our garden. They were set to attack intruders.
 
If you want to see, you could step into our garden.
 
Watching ghouls emerge from the ground is quite a sight.
 
They’d probably grab your leg suddenly.
 
No? You’d never step into the garden?
 
That’s a shame. No one visits our house, so I wanted to check if the ghouls were still functioning.
 
I did get permission from my master to bury the ghouls.
 
I told him, “I want to bury them because they smell.”
 
It’s normal to have bodies buried in the ground, right?
 
My master also said, “It makes sense for ghouls to be buried in ……… graves?”
 
He had a bit of a complex expression but agreed.
 
Rotten meat in the house would attract flies.
 
You wouldn’t want to live in such a house, right?
 
Finally, I cleaned my master’s scruffy beard.
 
I can shave a man’s beard, you know.
 
It’s a high-level skill only children with dexterous hands in the human trafficking house could learn.
 
Molly taught only the children she saw potential in.
 
Mason was the test subject. He has many scars around his chin because of that.
 
I was particularly good at it, so Mason ended up with only three more scars.
 
It’s nerve-wracking to shave someone, but Mason was even more nervous.
 
Understandably, having a child put a razor to your neck is nerve-wracking.
 
So, that’s how I learned to shave. It’s a proud skill of mine.
 
Molly gave me the razor as a farewell gift when I left.
 
My master was surprised when I offered to shave his beard.
 
“Why?” he asked.
 
“Because it’s dirty,” I replied, and he looked like the world was ending.
 
But he let me shave him quietly.
 
He trusted me after seeing how I cleaned the mansion. It made me happy.
 
I shaved him clean, tidied his hair, and he looked neat.
 
He turned out to be younger than I thought.
 
I had thought he was about 60, but he was actually around 40.
 
Men should keep themselves clean, I thought.
 
Then, in the now clean mansion, my training as a wizard’s apprentice began.
 
Of course, I didn’t neglect housework. I was capable.
 
I started by learning ancient characters to read magic books, then read the books, understood their contents, and finally started casting spells. It took a lot of time.
 


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