I Became the Commander in a Trash Game Who Copies Skills

Chapter 12. Fallen Saintess (1)

In Warlord Conquest, each faction had its own unique unit system.

For the Imperial Army, the most basic units included spearmen, swordsmen, riflemen, and low-ranking knights.

These units were organized into broader “classes” such as infantry, cavalry, artillery, and knights.

The Vampire Archduchy had three main classes:

Vampires.

Undead.

And beasts.

“Vampiric Bats fall under beasts.”

One characteristic of the beast class was their independence.

Unlike undead raised by necromancy, beasts didn’t collapse when their caster’s mana ran out or if the caster died.

But that came with a limitation.

They couldn’t be controlled as directly as puppets.

It was similar to how humans handled horses or cattle.

While some commands were possible, overriding their instincts was difficult.

That’s why…

“This way!”

I led the mercenary band, following the blood trail of the Vampiric Bat.

These creatures had a habit of returning to their nest when they sensed danger.

Since it was tied to their survival instincts, even their vampire master couldn’t override it.

“Over there! Beyond the hill!”

The wounded beast had long vanished from sight.

But the blood droplets it left behind, scattered among the grass, served as a guide.

Karen’s extraordinary senses tracked those markers without ever faltering.

It was a level of perception hard to explain, even for a ranger…

Well, that was something to think about later.

For now, I’d make good use of it.

After leading the band at a brisk pace for about ten minutes,

the trail ended.

“…A cave?”

“Is the necromancer in there?”

At the base of a steep hill ridge,

the trail led to a small cave entrance hidden by foliage.

The entrance was quite narrow.

Barely wide enough for two grown men to stand shoulder-to-shoulder.

“…It’s a dungeon.”

Dungeon.

A rare random encounter during reconnaissance missions.

It could be a bandit hideout, a wandering shaman’s camp, or a village in revolt.

The forms and occupants varied, but it was essentially an encounter where hostile forces occupied a specific location.

“The Necro Ogres we met were already part of a dungeon encounter.”

It was strange when I thought about it.

The Vampire Archduchy’s army had been repelled not long ago.

It was confirmed they’d retreated far back, so what were the odds of “coincidentally” running into an organized undead force near the border?

It made more sense that a lone vampire, separate from the Archduchy, had been hiding here for a long time.

There were independent vampires, after all.

“They went undiscovered until now… probably because the patrol routes didn’t overlap.”

Since we’d recently repelled the enemy army, the current patrol routes extended beyond the old border into enemy territory.

From the dungeon master’s perspective, this must’ve been a shock.

They’d set up in what they thought was a safe area, only to have a human mercenary band intrude.

So, in a panic, they sent out their forces.

The result? They only exposed their dungeon’s location.

“Brol, Karen. Have the band stand by.”

“What? But…”

But what?

I shook my head at Karen’s protest and lit a torch.

“You’re going in?”

“It’s a necromancer’s hideout near the border. Possibly a vampire. As mercenaries commissioned by the Imperial Army, we can’t just pass it by.”

That wasn’t the whole reason, of course.

Dungeons offered sweet rewards.

At the very least, money or equipment.

Sometimes, a chance to recruit new heroes.

And since this was a dungeon cleared during a mission, I could probably negotiate extra payment from the Archduke later.

“Then shouldn’t we all go in? It seems too dangerous for you to go alone…”

I shook my head at Karen’s question.

I appreciated the concern, but sending a large force into that narrow cave would be suicidal.

In this case, a small, elite team was far better.

And who said I was going alone?

I had the best card right beside me.

“Sir Olif.”

“I’ll take the lead.”

Narrow terrain like a cave favored close-combat specialists like knights.

The enemy was a low-level necromancer who could barely summon Necro Ogres.

Unless something extraordinary happened, they wouldn’t stand a chance against a high-ranking knight like Olif.

And even if something did happen, I, a mage, would have his back.

“The captain’s right. Let’s guard the entrance.”

“Got it. My thinking was short-sighted.”

“Ahem, but that cave… just looking at it gives me the creeps. Feels ominous.”

“Mister! Don’t jinx it with talk like that!”

“What, ‘mister’ again?!”

“…I’m going in.”

Leaving the two chatterboxes behind, I entered the cave.

The passage was narrow and winding.

Soon, the light from the entrance vanished completely.

Even with a torch, visibility was stifling.

“No wonder it’s a vampire hideout.”

Vampires were accustomed to darkness.

Their racial trait, [Dark Vision], allowed it.

According to the lore, some used echolocation like bats to discern rough shapes…

Not important right now.

“I can’t see a thing.”

I brought a torch, but it barely helped.

Good thing it was just the two of us.

More people would’ve slowed us down significantly.

There’d be no room to dodge arrows or spells either.

…By the way, Olif, old man.

Can you actually see anything?

He was striding forward so confidently.

When I asked, he replied nonchalantly.

“No need to worry. This level of darkness is manageable with enhanced vision.”

“…?”

“Just focus aura into your eyes. The same method can enhance hearing or smell.”

…Right.

This guy was a prodigy.

I must’ve underestimated someone who climbed from a lowly soldier to a high-ranking knight.

Speaking of which, Olif had been using formal speech with me lately.

At first, I brushed it off, but things were different now.

I’d heard he’d recently received a baronet title.

“Status doesn’t matter. I’m part of this mercenary band. You’re my superior, Captain.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes, if anything, you should speak casually to me.”

If he said so, fine.

Still, it was best to clarify these things.

Getting sued for insulting a noble later would be a headache.

Though Olif didn’t seem the type.

Step. Step.

How long did we walk after sorting out the hierarchy?

Cutting through the cold, damp air, a faint light glimmered ahead.

Approaching cautiously, I identified the source.

A red orb embedded in the wall.

“A soul core…?”

Olif asked.

“Correct.”

Exactly.

And one more thing…

“Sir Olif, step back.”

It was a trap.

***

“Behind me.”

Not knowing when it might trigger, I grabbed Olif by the shoulder and pulled him back.

Olif swapped positions with a puzzled expression.

He stepped back, still looking puzzled.

“Why…?”

“It’s a trap.”

“That little soul core?”

It didn’t seem like he understood well.

That wasn’t strange.

Typically, magical traps differed in scale from that thing.

The traditional form of a magic circle required a massive circle and large quantities of materials.

The problem was that the Vampire School would develop a new technology in the not-too-distant future.

Small.

Indestructible.

A trap-making technology where you couldn’t even know what spell would emerge.

The name of that damned trap was the [Soul Core Trap].

That was the identity of the red orb visible there.

“Don’t worry.”

Olif said.

“The captain I know is an excellent commander, a skilled mage, and a decent swordsman. Whether it’s what happened at the Burken defense battle or what will happen here today. It doesn’t matter with anything.”

He looked at me with resolute eyes.

Hey, staring like that is a bit burdensome.

Whether I could trust Olif had already been settled long ago.

Despite knowing I used Vampire School spells, he hadn’t reported me to the inquisitors or the Archduke.

There seemed to be some odd misunderstanding about my identity…

But that could be thought about later.

“Do you know that a soul core is a storage?”

“Yes, I know that the Vampire School stores the mana of vengeful spirits extracted through [Blood Sacrifice].”

He knew well.

From a modern perspective, it could be compared to a battery.

A mana battery exclusive to the Vampire School.

“You use that to make traps. Engrave the spell inside the soul core, then activate it.”

“…I see.”

“Do you know what color a soul core originally is?”

“I know it’s purple.”

“That one?”

“It’s red.”

Only then did Olif nod.

Of course, his expression didn’t show full understanding.

Well, I wasn’t much different.

I only knew it in detail from the lore; I hadn’t made or used one myself.

Anyway, the [Soul Core Trap] was a random magic trap.

With “indestructible” and “unanalyzable” options attached.

That technology was the top contributor to making the Vampire Archduchy’s fortresses impregnable in the late game.

The questions arising here were two.

First: Where did a mere level 2-3 necromancer get precious soul cores?

Second: The [Soul Core Trap] was a late-game technology of the Vampire Archduchy—how had it appeared already?

“……”

First, there was no event like this in my mental list.

And in the original Warlord Conquest, there were no variables I didn’t know.

That meant this was entering a completely new branch I hadn’t experienced before.

‘It must be the influence of the updated World Scenario 4.0. Updates always add events in bulk.’

It wasn’t without guesses.

Probably a high chance it was “that guy.”

He wasn’t supposed to appear at this point originally…

World Scenario updates changed a lot every time.

But for now, it was just speculation.

I noted countermeasures in my head for if it was “that guy” and moved to the next topic.

‘Anyway, the choices are two.’

Whether to proceed embracing the danger.

Or retreat embracing the unease.

If it were a game, I could just play and reload choices later…

But now, I had to be cautious.

This was reality with only one coin.

“We continue as is.”

After brief thought, I concluded.

The reasons were as follows.

First: An unknown variable was a crisis in itself.

Second: Conversely, every crisis, if resolved, could become a unique opportunity.

And finally…

‘He didn’t hide the trap.’

This was actually the biggest reason.

The [Soul Core Trap] was easy to conceal.

It could’ve been buried under half a handspan of dirt, but it was embedded visibly, with light shining around it.

What that meant was obvious.

‘Threat. Or warning.’

There’s a saying.

Big dogs don’t bark easily; small dogs bark at the slightest discomfort.

If the opponent was truly confident in their skill—a necromancer like an Elder Vampire—what would’ve happened?

‘We’d be dead already.’

Without time to notice traps or anything, we’d have become undead, attacking our members outside the cave amicably.

Conversely, that meant the current opponent wasn’t that strong.

It carried some risk, but it was a situation where a bigger variable could be resolved.

“Captain, I’ll go first.”

“No.”

I stopped Olif from stepping forward.

With the [Soul Core Trap], you couldn’t know what spell would pop out if triggered.

Since it emerged without incantation, to prepare, I, versed in the Vampire School, should go first.

[I activated Shield.]

I spread the [Shield] spell like a barrier.

[I activated Imperial Knight Swordsmanship.]

I naturally lowered my stance, putting strength in my toes.

In my head, I recalled various Vampire School spells.

What spell might emerge.

How to counter if it did.

Olif took the torch and stuck close behind me.

As we approached within five steps of the soul core’s center.

Snap!

Kyaaaaaaa-!

Dozens of pale skulls poured out.

Dududududu-!

They hammered the [Shield], creating ripples before vanishing.

“…Ugh!”

“Captain! Are you okay!”

I immediately collapsed to the floor and retched.

A ringing in my ears made my stomach flip upside down.

I had blocked the spell’s impact itself properly.

It wasn’t primarily a physical damage spell to begin with.

“Cough! Cough!”

The name of this spell was [Banshee’s Scream].

A spell that, along with minor magic damage, shook the semicircular canals to destroy balance.

Even if I blocked the damage with the [Shield] spell, I couldn’t block the sound.

“It might be better to send a few members to the city, report to the army, and get reinforcements.”

“No. We continue.”

With Olif’s support, I stood and pulled out a mana potion.

The bitter taste made my throat scream, but my lips curled up faintly.

I wasn’t crazy.

Just…

[I activated Warrior’s Insight.]

[Skill acquired.]

[Banshee’s Scream (3rd-level)]

…I’d found a gold mine.

Giving this up? That didn’t make sense.

***

[I activated Warrior’s Insight.]

[Skill acquired.]

[Red Strange Touch (3rd-level)]

[Blood Flow Explosion (1st-level)]

[Blood Temptation (3rd-level)]

[Shadow Blade (2nd-level)]

***

“……”

In the vast cavern bathed in purple light,

Acolyte Alina was silently shedding tears inside the iron cage.

“K-Kill… me…”

Outside the cage, a man was bound to a rack.

Dry lips. Skin and muscles on his limbs torn to shreds.

His spilling entrails meant his body was rapidly losing life.

In a little time, he would meet the death he desired.

“…Brother, hold on a little longer. Surely Luark will extend a hand of salvation.”

“No… please…”

But Alina couldn’t let him die like that.

If he died now, the man’s soul would be eternally mortgaged to the necromancer.

That was the nature of the [Blood Sacrifice] ritual.

It was a vile spell that tainted even the victim’s soul with evil.

“Just a little… really just a little longer…”

The man, unconscious, hung limp.

Alina extended a trembling hand outside the cage.

Then, a pure white glow flowed from her fingertips, beginning to repair the man’s body.

Torn muscles reattached, and spilling entrails regenerated from within.

Even unconscious, the man twitched in rejection, but his bound body helplessly accepted the miracle.

“Kihee. What a sight that brings tears to the eyes.”

There was one more person in the cavern.

A diminutive man in a white mask.

He was the one who had kidnapped Alina and mutilated the man.

A necromancer who practiced the forbidden spells of the Vampire School, treated as heresy in the Empire.

“If he dies, [Blood Sacrifice] will trap his soul, so you can’t let him die. But every time you heal him, he suffers again.”

“You devil…”

“Kihee. How does Luark resolve such a dilemma? Any answers?”

The necromancer sneered.

Arms crossed, he watched until the man was fully healed, then approached.

He raised a dagger caked with blood and pus.

Only then did the man regain consciousness and begin screaming the moment he opened his eyes.

“Aaah! Why! Why did you save me! Why me…!”

“Why so noisy? Kihee. Just a worm.”

“Ugh—argh—cough—”

With a hole punched in his throat, the man could no longer scream.

As he writhed in pain, making wheezing sounds, the necromancer held a small statue to him.

A grotesquely twisted statue.

Tentacles fluttering, supporting a smooth regular octahedron.

“Ughhhh—”

The statue drew something from the man’s pained screams.

The murky energy gradually coalesced into a small purple orb.

Only then did the necromancer detach the statue from the man’s body and say mockingly.

“Kihee. Now heal him again. You know if he dies like this? This pitiful soul won’t be saved.”

“Luark. Look upon your servant. Please extend your merciful hand of salvation, in this pitch-black darkness…”

Thud.

That was when it happened.

The cavern shook slightly.

Rumble…

And Alina witnessed it.

The black eyes behind the mask flickering faintly.

“Kihee. Those intruders in my domain?”

The cavern’s trembling grew stronger.

Every 2-3 minutes, intensifying.

As if something was approaching.

Alina’s eyes widened.

“Luark! Luark—argh!”

“Shut up, nuisance.”

The necromancer struck Alina’s throat with the dagger’s hilt.

After watching her faint for a moment, he tucked the dagger into his robes and picked up his staff.

As the vibrations grew, more dust fell from the ceiling, studded with purple orbs.

He muttered to himself.

“Kihee… They’ve come quite deep into my domain foolishly. I thought I’d warned enough…”

Rumble!

The vast cavern shook violently once.

Dust rained from the ceiling embedded with purple orbs.

The necromancer narrowed his eyes.

Through the thick dust, two elongated shapes loomed.

People.

One in plate armor, holding a staff and sword.

And an elderly knight with a white beard, clad in armor.

“Kihee, who are you…”

“Hey, corpse-shoveler.”

The one with the staff cut him off.

“Why so many duplicate spells? Is that all you know?”