The guardian of the anti-mage ruins is the spirit Akasha.

It’s set up that she became a spirit filled with hatred and resentment towards the world after dying.

Like most spirits, she harbors a blind murderous intent towards the living.

Nonetheless, she does have some common sense and warns intruders several times before they enter the tomb.

If they ignore those warnings and venture close to the sarcophagus, the boss battle with Akasha begins.

[Lv. 91]

The level floating above the sarcophagus was red.

I’m going to kill you, I’m going to kill you, I’m going to kill you, I’m going to kill you, I’m going to kill you.

The walls were painted red with murderous intent.

“I’m going to kill you,” this message felt like a warning signal to me.

Right here, I stopped in my tracks. One more step and the vengeful spirit would come pouring out.

Akasha was a spirit, making her physically difficult to confront.

Not only could she not be easily caught, but even if you did catch her, the lingering resentment would slowly drain the player’s life away.

Akasha’s resentment is a debuff that leads to death.

Often, after defeating her, players would find themselves unable to access the boss room due to dying from her lingering resentment.

“Charlotte. Take out what I asked you to bring.”

Before we set off, I had requested a few things from Charlotte.

Simple multicolored food, a small wooden box, and white wine.

Attacking Akasha head-on was something only newbies would do.

She wasn’t even meant to be defeated in the first place, and catching her wouldn’t bring any great benefits.

The real way to deal with her is through a memorial ceremony. The solution was to soothe Akasha’s soul and help her pass on.

Charlotte diligently unpacked and organized everything without asking questions.

Dedication is important for a ritual. There’s no need for an extravagant ceremony.

After laying out the offerings, I placed the small wooden box in front of the sarcophagus.

I set up a modest altar and neatly arranged the food on top.

During this time, Charlotte and Cecilia kept a solemn silence.

They were quick on the uptake, so it saved them from unnecessary effort.

Die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die, die.

As I looked ahead, the malignant spirit energy swirled violently.

That was all; there was no direct danger.

With both hands, I respectfully poured the wine and prepared the altar, even if just a little.

There was no need to light incense or bow here.

Just preparing the altar meant I had done my part.

I quietly stepped back a pace and silently watched the scene.

How long had passed? The food on the altar suddenly rotted and withered.

Usually, this would signify a haunting, and the current situation felt eerily similar.

Drip—blood letters started flowing down the walls.

More, give me more.

Starting with those first two syllables.

More, more, more, more, more, more, more, more, more, more.

More, more, more, more, more, more, more, more, more, more.

The words, once sharper, continued in a rounder tone.

Red as blood, it was equally frightening, but at least the murderous intent had eased.

“Charlotte. Bring out more.”

“Yes.”

As soon as I set the food out like before, it rotted away.

I was relieved; it seemed to suit my taste.

Get out.

The spirit wants me to leave while siphoning off the sweetness. Such a heartless spirit.

Get out, get out, get out, get out, get out, get out, get out, get out, get out.

Get out, get out, get out, get out, get out, get out, get out, get out, get out.

From behind, Cecilia was about to raise her Moonlight Sword.

With my gesture to stop, she tucked the sword back away.

“Stay still.”

“…Yes.”

I cleared the altar and plopped down right there.

Bringing the white wine from the table, I placed it conspicuously in front of me.

“Can you tell me your story?”

I don’t want to.

“I’m curious about many things, though.”

I don’t want to, I don’t want to, I don’t want to, I don’t want to, I don’t want to.

Get out, get out, get out, get out, get out, get out, get out, get out.

“Should I tell my story first?”

Get out! AAAAAAHHH!!!!!

Despite the cold reaction, I held my position.

I tilted the wine bottle slightly, and a stream flowed down, soaking the floor and running toward the sarcophagus.

The remaining wine I gulped down, but I spilled it as well. It was like that monk’s water.

Akasha’s method of defeat involved two steps.

First, just setting up the altar for a memorial ceremony.

Then, after the memorial, drinking with her and sharing sincere words was the answer.

Lucky for me, as an Undead, I had much to empathize with.

“You must have had many regrets in life. I share the same. Though our forms differ, we are both dead.”

When drinking with Akasha, no lies should be uttered.

Memorials require sincerity, and true sincerity must be steeped in genuine feelings.

The medium for our conversation was the wall.

I continued to gaze at the wall as I spoke.

“I had dreams and hopes just before I died. However, I was wronged and became a corpse.”

I, too, had dreams.

The job didn’t matter. I just wanted to earn a lot of money, care for my parents, and live a life of luxury. You could say it was a joke about becoming a landlord.

My complaints, empathizing with her, were nothing but unvarnished truth.

“I don’t know how your death was. However, I, too, felt wronged and devastated in this way.”

Even if I’m not sure I died, it’s true I’ve been wronged and devastated by possessing this body.

I didn’t commit any sins or live life carelessly.

What crime does extensively playing a game constitute?

“I had many things I wanted to achieve. Many wishes, a lot of greed. As a result, I was left with regrets and bitterness in my life. Why did I do that? Why was I lenient towards myself and strict towards others? Should I have loved others more? I wanted to be a better person, but by then, I had already become this way. Upon dying, all I had left were regret and lingering attachments.”

The reply from the wall was silence.

Not ignorance, but attentive listening.

“I, too, have resented and hated the world. But living in a dead body made me realize. No change comes from hating the world. …Slowly, I want to hear your story. How painful was your death?”

Are you really going to listen to my story?

The response came back.

She nodded eagerly.

“I could talk about it all day.”

A moment of silence passed.

The wall became painted in red again.

“I was the queen of a nation.”

In truth, I didn’t need to hear her story; I already knew the background.

Akasha was the queen of a long-lost ancient kingdom.

Despite being of royal blood, she pursued equality without caring for status.

However, that very pursuit led to her execution by guillotine, as she was seen as a tragically ill-fated queen.

“At first, all my subjects loved me, and I loved all my people. But you can’t govern with love alone.”

People say what’s needed in times of chaos is a hero.

Yet more importantly, what’s needed is a villain to take responsibility for the chaos.

Before she could even govern her kingdom, things went awry.

It was less than a month after her ascension, and a rebellion broke out. The people called it a revolution, a way to rectify the corrupt regime.

Revolutionary movements had long been preparing before Akasha took the throne.

Absolute royal authority. The aristocrats’ excess and hedonism.

The furious crowds sought to establish a republic through revolution.

They stoked societal anger as a platform, spreading rumors about the new queen.

The intertwining of social and political ills of the era led to her tragic end.

If she had a fault, it was simply being born in the wrong time.

“They said I was extravagant, that I was indulging in luxuries at the state’s expense. They called me a foolish and extravagant queen. It was all lies; I didn’t do that.”

Akasha lived simply, giving to others.

She provided food for the starving and expanded her charitable activities, avoiding indulgence.

However, after the revolution forced the royal family out, Akasha was surrounded by all sorts of slander.

Corruption. Abuse of power. Even accusations of incest.

All of this merely served as a justification for the revolution.

“Everyone made it hard for me. The people no longer loved me; they hated me with a vengeance. But I still loved them. Why do they all hate me?”

The citizens’ fury erupted due to the nobles’ corruption.

What they needed wasn’t the truth, but a justification.

Akasha was the culmination of an unequal era. She bore the sins of the aristocrats as queen.

The first act of the republic was her execution.

“It hurt so much. It still hurts. No one understands my pain. No, they can’t. I’m so wronged that I just want to kill them all.”

“The world is at fault. You are not to blame at all. I understand your anger and resentment.”

This is my genuine feeling.

Knowing Akasha’s past, I empathized with her sincerely.

“You are not at fault.”

The message on the wall was silent for a time.

Letter by letter, a long message gradually appeared.

“I didn’t want to die, but I did. I don’t want to be in pain anymore. I’m scared of being alone. I’m scared of becoming like this. I’m a monster.”

Akasha possessed a thoughtful and gentle soul more than anyone else.

I felt so very sorry for her heart.

“I’m not afraid of you. Before me, you are just a kind woman who has been hurt.”

There was silence.

And then…

Thank you.

There was a short, heartfelt sentiment.

The writing was no longer red.

It turned white, shining in the darkness.

It’s the first time someone said that to me.

Someone empathized with my pain, understood me.

Thank you, really thank you. I think I like you now.

With a lurch, the sarcophagus opened, revealing a figure.

A woman with platinum hair that cascaded down to her ankles in waves.

The mark where her head was severed was visible, a straight line etched into her neck.

Her pale skin and lifeless appearance did nothing to diminish the natural beauty she possessed.

There was an elegance and noble beauty in her that was more vivid than the living.

[Lv. 91]

The dark green level gradually approached me.

Queen Akasha’s footsteps stopped before me.

“Thank you.”

Tears welled in the corners of her eyes.

“For listening to my story. For understanding me.”

Her eyes curved like a crescent moon.

With a beautiful smile, Akasha reached out her arms, as if asking for a hug.

Afraid of hurting her, I gently embraced her.

We were both corpses, lifeless and cold like ice.

Even though her body was cold, I felt a warmth that was hard to explain.

“Kind Death Knight.”

The sensation of Akasha gradually faded.

Her body began to transform into sparkling particles, dispersing into the air beyond my grasp.

“If only there had been a knight like you, I wouldn’t have been lonely or tormented.”

“There’s no greater honor than serving a beautiful lord.”

Akasha flashed a gentle smile. Tears rolled down the corners of her eyes.

“Thank you.”

She placed a kiss on my forehead.

Like a farewell, Akasha became a white stream of light.

She shattered into particles and scattered in all directions, her form disappearing in the end.

A small fragment of light remained on my fingertip. Even that soon flew away into the void.

I still felt a sensation at my fingertips.

Staring blankly into the void, I clenched my hand tightly.

She left without a hint of regret.

Instead, I felt an endless attachment.

It was surely nothing special, yet I felt such emotions out of pity.

…I truly am too soft-hearted.

“I hope you find happiness there.”