The Ancestor and I blinked our eyes.
"Ancestor?"
[Speak, descendant.]
"Do undead originally have egos?"
[...That cannot be. Even if it is a non-medium undead revived without a medium, an ego does not dwell within it.]
Right, having no ego is normal.
Then what is this friend in front of me?
"Hi?"
Clack clack?
"What's your name?"
Clack?
The skeleton tilted its head repeatedly.
As if it didn't know its name.
Then, as the summoner, I should give it one.
"From now on, your name is Golgol. Got it?"
Clack clack!
Hmm, seems he likes it.
[Even so, it's a name....]
Hmph!
Ancestor, he says he likes it!
Wait, then technically, isn't Golgol my first undead?
"Hmm, somehow I feel proud."
[But does this mean I cannot use it as my body?]
Oh?
Come to think of it, I originally created the undead to serve as the Ancestor's body, but I forgot.
Then what do I do?
"Golgol."
Clack?
"Can I borrow your body for a moment?"
Clack...?
Golgol tilted his head at my request.
Then soon, Golgol nodded vigorously.
Alright, now that I have Golgol's consent, I looked at the Ancestor.
"Would you like to try entering?"
[Fine. You know the method, right?]
"Um... Yes."
I didn't know originally.
But how should I put it?
Just like when I made Golgol earlier, it feels like something comes to mind instinctively.
Yes, just like moving one's limbs naturally.
It must be thanks to awakening the Blessing of Death.
Anyway, I focused my consciousness.
[Hmm, is it like this?]
Then, the Ancestor slowly overlapped with Golgol.
With a fluttering heart, I watched the union(?) of the Ancestor and Golgol.
It was a tense moment.
The Hero of Heorn, the one who slew a dragon.
A hero who left his name in history is manifesting here again after a long time.
How long did I focus like that?
[....]
Golgol lowered his head deeply, then slowly raised it again.
A bright light burning in the empty eye sockets.
The moment I looked into those eyes, I instinctively knew.
That Ark the Dragon Slayer had returned here.
While my whole body shivered, the Ancestor reached out his hand.
[Give me a sword.]
"...Yes."
I moved my steps to pull out the decorative sword hanging on my room wall.
It was at that moment.
Ping—!
My vision went black with a dizzying sensation.
[Descendant?]
"Blergh—!"
I lost consciousness with a maddening dizziness.
It was the second time I fainted today.
***
When I regained consciousness, I saw a familiar ceiling.
And... a face that was familiar yet somewhat strange.
"Are you awake?"
"...Lady Hella?"
"You can call me stepmother. If you wish."
"Ah, yes."
Father's official wife, Hella... Stepmother organized the towel she used to wipe my sweat and spoke.
"A servant who came to announce the meal found you. I heard you were practicing necromancy, is that right?"
"Yes, I caused trouble."
"It's not trouble. However, I wish you would take care of your body while training. Then rest comfortably. I will be going now."
"...Thank you."
Stepmother left the room after those words.
I blinked my eyes, feeling slightly bewildered.
How should I put it?
'It's... a bit hard to get used to.'
By the way, is it right to call her stepmother in this case?
I don't know.
While I was thinking about the title issue due to the awkwardness.
[You are up.]
'Ancestor, what happened?'
[You suddenly vomited and collapsed just like that. It seems to be due to mana depletion.]
Mana depletion?
Come to think of it, I felt like the mana in my heart was empty the moment I collapsed.
Then let's see.
If this is a symptom of mana depletion, the conclusion is that maintaining possession constantly is difficult.
'Hmm, then what should I do?'
[There is no need to be too disappointed. Even if it's like this now, it will gradually get better as your mana capacity increases. Instead, you will have to train necromancy more diligently for that.]
I heard that just practicing necromancy increases mana capacity.
This was the same for others as well.
Swordsmen accumulate mana in their hearts as they train with swords, and mages as they train magic.
'Then is training really the answer?'
Groan.
I raised my exhausted body and looked around.
"But where is Golgol?"
[I don't know. He disappeared after you collapsed.]
What, did he just disappear like that?
It was when I was thinking that.
"I might be able to summon him again?"
[How?]
"Like this."
With my will, a little mana from my heart escaped.
Immediately after, a familiar skeleton appeared by the bedside.
Clack clack...!
Golgol, making a crying face(?) upon seeing me.
He seemed to be asking if I was okay, so I nodded.
"I'm fine with this much."
Clack clack!
Hmm, is this why people raise undead?
I feel my heart warming up.
"Does just summoning him like this have the effect of training necromancy?"
[You are stating the obvious.]
It was welcome news.
'This means I'm training just by breathing?'
I should keep Golgol summoned at all times if possible.
It doesn't consume much mana, so it should be fine.
Anyway, I had a concern.
"Golgol, what do you want to do?"
Clack clack?
"Hmm, do you want to try learning swordsmanship?"
If it were a normal skeleton, I would just give it any weapon and use it as a consumable, but Golgol was an undead with an ego.
So I thought he might be able to learn swordsmanship....
Clack clack!
At my suggestion, Golgol nodded vigorously.
As if he was excited.
I smiled pleasantly watching Golgol, then looked at the Ancestor.
"Could you teach Golgol some basic swordsmanship?"
[Well, if it's just basics.]
"Golgol, do you want to try pulling out the sword in that display case?"
[Are you going to do it right now? Without resting a bit more. If you overdo it, your body won't hold out.]
"I think this much should be fine."
As I said, summoning Golgol wasn't a big burden.
Above all, my mana capacity increased a lot compared to before I lost consciousness.
My current exhaustion is not because I lack mana, but because of the aftereffects of mana depletion.
Golgol, having drawn the sword, took a stance.
[Hmm? But why is this sword bent? Hmm, to think Palaon has declined this much. It is lamentable. Golgol, draw the sword next to it.]
Clack clack.
Um, I bent that.
I should tell Father later and replace it.
Anyway, Golgol drew a new sword and took a stance.
[Now, copy my stance. Imagine there is a sword in this hand and watch.]
The Ancestor stood in front of Golgol and took a stance.
Legs shoulder-width apart, knees slightly bent, back straight, and gaze forward.
It was a standard posture one might have seen somewhere.
[Now, watch.]
It was the same afterwards.
Arms going up above the head and cutting straight down.
However, that series of movements was quite plausible.
Even though it was an empty hand without a sword, it felt like there was a sword.
[Try it.]
Clack clack.
This time it was Golgol's turn.
Golgol checked his stance while looking at the Ancestor and raised the sword properly.
And vertically.
Whoosh!
The sound of the sword cutting the air resonated.
It was at that moment a strange sensation tickled my brain.
[For a first time, it's quite... Hmm? Descendant, what is wrong?]
"Just a moment. Golgol, want to try it again?"
Clack clack!
Golgol excitedly cut down with the sword again.
"Again."
Clack clack!
It was the same downward cut as before.
Focusing on the ticklish feeling, I made Golgol repeat the downward cut. Later, I even made him repeat it until I told him to stop.
[What is it? Is there a problem?]
"Well..."
How should I express the sensation and phenomenon I'm feeling right now?
Right, this was it.
"It seems Golgol's training is shared with me too."
[What? Is that true?]
"Yes."
Training sharing? Proficiency sharing?
Yes, it would be better to call it proficiency sharing.
simply put....
'It becomes automatic training?'
No, in this case, should I call it a macro?
***
The next day.
After my body recovered, I headed straight to the training ground.
It was early morning, but the knights, including Sir Balt, were in the middle of training.
"Young Master, you came out."
"Yes, Sir Balt."
"I heard the story from Young Master Vilheim. He said you need training...."
"Um, yes."
I nodded for now.
My original purpose was to train Golgol, but I also needed training.
[You never know what will happen on the battlefield. Even a mage needs some means of self-defense. Until your necromancy reaches a certain level, keep hand-to-hand combat in mind.]
It was true.
Above all, since I obtained the shield Krasion, I should learn the basic usage.
"Then I will lightly run ten laps around the training ground. But that skeleton next to you...."
"Ah, it's my undead. Could you train this friend too?"
"Are you asking me to train an undead?"
Sir Balt's eyes widened.
Training an undead must be unfamiliar.
Can't be helped.
'As expected, the extraordinary actions of a genius must be hard to understand.'
[...Somehow your nose has gotten higher.]
I think my nose was originally high, Ancestor.
Anyway, Sir Balt, though bewildered, allowed Golgol to join.
"If that is a way to help the Young Master, then gladly."
"Then I ask of you."
"Yes, then Young Master, please run 10 laps around the training ground lightly."
"...Yes."
Hmm, cardio.
I hated cardio even in my past life.
But I had no choice.
This is literally 'training,' not 'exercise.'
Training to survive in the barbaric Medieval Land where violence runs rampant.
Thus, the training began under Sir Balt's guidance.
I learned swordsmanship and shield techniques from Sir Balt every morning, and Sir Balt expressed admiration for my skills improving day by day.
"It is amazing. To improve so quickly. It is impossible unless you have a talent for swordsmanship."
"Hmm, is it that much?"
"Yes, it is truly regrettable. If the Young Master had awakened the talent for Greatsword...."
That feeling was understandable.
'Since a talent for swordsmanship was stolen by necromancy, it's bound to be regrettable, right?'
[Don't scam him. When you are sharing proficiency with Golgol.]
Ah, for reference, as a result of finding out through several experiments, it seemed my proficiency is not shared with Golgol.
This part feels a bit regrettable.
Anyway, one day while continuing training and necromancy research like that.
"Sir Balt, for a moment...."
At the call of the old butler Maroon, Sir Balt left his seat for a moment and returned with a slightly stiff face.
"Young Master, it seems we have to end today's training here."
"Is something wrong?"
I threw a question at Sir Balt's serious-looking face.
Sir Balt hesitated for a moment before opening his mouth.
"Viscount Hadion sent someone."
"Viscount Hadion... the neighboring territory?"
"Yes, the Baron called for me, so I will take my leave."
"Ah, yes."
I watched Sir Balt moving away.
And when I turned my head, I could spot a man entering the lord's castle.
A figure full of greed... No, to put it nicely, it's a figure; calling him a fatso would be correct.
'Is that the person Viscount Hadion sent?'
[Yes, I went and listened briefly earlier, and they say he is Administrator Puvil.]
Administrator Puvil.
'Tsk, that gentleman's physiognomy feels somehow dirty.'
As expected, not long after, a shout was heard from Father's study.
"How dare you—! Unless you are crazy, to spout such bullshit!"
It was Father's voice, filled with rage.