Swordsman's Regression: Reawakened as a Necromancer-Chapter 120: Second Soul Soldier (2)

Silence filled the soul space for a while longer. Percival stood across from Willow, the unseen wind whipping his hair to the side.

Willow, who seemed confused at first, slowly came to terms with what she was required to do. She took a step closer to Percival, then reduced herself to a knee.

"Lord of Bones and Souls," she whispered, her voice full of submission and honor. "I humbly submit myself before you. You have offered me a second chance, an escape from eternal silence."

She lifted her gaze and her burning blue eyes burned into his. Her short hair moved with the silent wind, the azure flames crackling at the edges of their vision.

"But I am aware I can not serve you until the Ritual is completed."

She bowed yet again. "My name is Willow Lockhart. I am the daughter of a simple family from the village of Worthsville."

Like before, the smoke rose behind and around her, depicting the tales she uttered from her cold lips.

The first image was of a village of thatched roofs and mud roads. Percival didn’t recognize this village called Worthsville, but from the architecture, he assumed it was somewhere in Luvengart.

The smoke displayed more.

Percival watched a young Willow, dressed in rags, playing with a wooden stick in the mud. She was thin, her ribs showing, but her eyes were bright.

"My family were perhaps the poorest in the village," Willow said softly, watching her younger self run past her. "My father was a Fisherman who couldn’t afford nets. My mother was a Norice who lacked the herbs to even heal."

"Life was simple back then. It was suffering. But even in that suffering, we had something that was more valuable than everything else."

"We had each other."

Percival’s eyes narrowed at the images of Willow with her parents, locked in an embrace. He never knew his parents, and had lived his entire lives as an orphan.

He couldn’t truly relate to this. The closest thing he had to a family betrayed him.

The smoke shifted. It showed a God Temple, and then a teenage Willow standing on top the podium. The burst of light followed as she awakened.

"When I awakened a Legendary Talent as a Knight, I knew my life was going to change. I was offered contracts by guilds, scholarships by the Academies."

The scene changed to a bigger house, made for a family. Food on the table. Her parents smiling, wearing clean clothes. A young Willow, now in basic iron armor, placing a pouch of gold coins on the table.

"I saved them," she murmured, a sad smile touching her lips. "That was all I ever wanted. To pull them out of the mud of my village."

The smoke swirled faster, showing a montage of her rise. Percival saw her clearing D-Rank and C-Rank Gates. He saw her standing atop the walls of provincial towns, defending them against waves of goblin raiders.

"I cleared many Gate Worlds and stopped many Migrations. I was young but my popularity grew faster than my age."

Percival saw people cheer for her. She was a hero of the common folk, a Knight who remembered what it was like to be hungry.

Then, the smoke turned dark.

"But duty is a jealous master," Willow whispered.

The smoke created a new image. A map. Percival quickly recognized it as a map of Luvengart.

He saw a green stain spread across the parchment. Undeniably, that was a Demon Migration. The path of the Demonspawns led directly toward Worthsville.

"A Demon Migration came," Willow said, her voice dropping to a whisper. "Dozens of them. Heading straight for my village where my parents still live."

Percival watched the smoke show Willow pleading with an official. Begging to go.

"I asked to go," she said, her spectral fists clenching. "I begged. But Baron Eutheo required an escort to the Capital. The roads were dangerous, he said. He needed his best shield."

"I wanted to run. I wanted to defy the Baron’s orders and run to my family. But my duty, my allegiance had its costs if I broke it."

The smoke showed Willow trembling. She looked toward the direction of her home, then at the Baron’s carriage.

She got on the horse beside the carriage.

"I had no choice. I followed duty. I followed the Baron’s order. And after I did, I regretted it."

The scene shifted to a rainy night. The Baron’s caravan was safe, miles away. A messenger bird arrived.

Percival watched as Willow read the letter. He saw her knees buckle. He saw her scream. It was soundless, but he could see how agonizing it must have been. He could almost feel her pain.

"They died," Willow said, her voice devoid of emotion, though the smoke showed her weeping in the mud. "My mother. My father. The migration swallowed Worthsville whole. There were some survivors after help arrived. But none that I cared for."

The smoke showed the ruins of a village. Burnt timber. Scattered bones. A place wiped off the map.

"I was strong enough to save them," Willow said, turning her gaze to Percival. "I could have saved them. I could have gone after them and got them out of that place. But no. I was protecting a Baron who was never in danger."

The final scene played out. Willow, years later, still serving Baron Eutheo. Her face was harder now, her eyes emptier.

"Yet I served the Baron with all my diligence. I joined his vanguard and followed his team of high Level Awakeners into various Gate Worlds."

She hesitated, then continued. "Including the same one that has killed me. In the end, Master of Souls, my entire family died under the hands of the Baron."

Percival licked his lower lip. "Are you seeking revenge of some sort? On the Baron?"

The smoke dissipated, leaving Willow standing in the blue fire.

"I hold no hatred for the Baron," she said, surprising Percival. "He is the lord of the city. His safety ensures the stability of it. Like other rulers, he desires diligence and submission from his suspects."

Percival gazed at her, surprised by her answer. "But you must feel some kind of resentment," he said. "Why else do you tell me all this?"

Willow looked up at him again, a sparkling tear running down her cheek. "I swore an oath to serve, and I kept it. My personal tragedy does not invalidate my duty."

She looked up at Percival.

"You have summoned me, Lord of Souls. You offer me a continuation."

"I offer you a purpose," Percival corrected. "You died for a cause that abandoned you. I will never abandon my own. I have seen your talent, Willow. I have seen your heart. You will serve me, and I will give you a purpose that is more than duty to you."

Willow looked at him for a long moment.

"I am willing to serve you, Lord of Bones," she admitted. "But as you know, my soul is tethered."

Percival looked to the side. "Yes." He let out a sigh. "Very well then, Willow Lockhart. What is your wish? What troubles your heart even now in death?"

She bowed again, her spectral armor clinking softly.

"My family... they lie in the ruins of Worthsville. Unburied. Forgotten. I have tried for months and I still can not find them. You, Master. You are the Lord of Bones. Theirs are somewhere in that desolate rubble."

Her eyes pleaded with him, completely dissimilar to the steel of her voice.

"I could not save them in life. I could not even bury them. That failure is a chain around my neck."

She knelt with both knees now, lowering her head to touch the ground.

"Go to Worthsville, Master. Find what remains of my family. I beg you to gather their bones and give them the burial they were denied. Raise tombstones so that history knows they existed."

She looked up, her blue eyes burning with intensity. "Do this for me... and my shield is yours. My life, my death, my sword. I will give you everything. Your command will be my purpose."

Percival looked down at the kneeling Knight. It was a humble request, born of love and guilt. A request the Baron had likely never bothered to fulfill.

"Worthsville," Percival repeated. "It is a village in Luvengart, right?"

Willow nodded. "Yes, Master."

Percival pretended to think for a while, then nodded. "I accept your terms, Willow Lockhart. Your family will have their rest. I will carve their names into stone myself."

Willow closed her eyes, and another tear of blue mana traced a path down her cheek.

She raised her head.

"Thank you," she whispered. "My Lord."

A notification suddenly appeared before Percival.

⸢Do you accept this Contract Quest?⸥

⸢YES / NO⸥

He selected yes.

Ding!

⸢Contract Quest accepted⸥

⸢Contract Quest: Find the corpses of Willow Lockhart’s parents and give them a proper burial⸥.

He looked at Willow. "I’ll summon you again. Soon."

Willow nodded once, her blue eyes filled with hope.

⸢Soul Soldier, Willow Lockhart (Knight), has been added to Draft Space⸥

⸢Upon Contract Quest completion, she will be added into Summon Space⸥

⸢Willow Lockhart will automatically leave Draft Space after 7 days and can not be contracted again⸥

The blue void shattered.

Reality rushed back in as the smell of dust and copper filled Percival’s nose.