155 Chapter 155: A Clue on My Past?

[Horn of the Damned: A one-time use item, when blown, the sound forces all nearby Undead to fall under your command for 24 hours]

Aron's eyes widened as he devoured the description of the horn. His mind raced with possibilities depending on how he wielded the bone instrument. It could be a tool for salvation or destruction.

However, his thoughts quickly shifted to the Everfrost. If the approaching waves included undead in the ranks, the horn could be a strategic asset, turning them into defenders or expendable pawns. But...

"This item doesn't belong to me." Since the horn belonged to Grunt, Aron wouldn't take it without his consent. Despite his grotesque form and dark aura, Grunt possessed a childlike innocence and surprising kindness. 

Even after days of starvation, Aron had witnessed Grunt dividing the sandwich into five portions, taking the smallest for himself and attempting to share the rest with Kasumi, Viper, and Lucca.

Aron chuckled seeing his compassionate nature. Despite his appearance and circumstances, Grunt's selflessness and innocence shone through.

"Grunt," Aron called, catching the deformed figure's attention. He raised the bone horn, asking, "Where did you find this?"

Grunt's eyes lit up at the sight of the horn. "Oh! That... uh... Grunt didn't find it, Grunt made it!"

"WHAT!" Aron exclaimed, stunned by the revelation. "You made it?" he repeated, disbelief lacing his voice.

Grunt nodded enthusiastically, a proud smile spreading across his face. "Yes! Grunt made it from bones he found in the tunnels," he explained, his voice brimming with excitement. "Grunt used to collect bones and make things from them. Grunt somehow can talk to bones."

"Interesting," was all Aron could manage as he returned to the old couch.

"OH! Grunt remembers... Grunt made another thing. Wait here!" The excited Grunt hurried across the room with his unnatural movements, searching for something within the junk pile.

Meanwhile, Kasumi, Viper, and Lucca approached Aron, eager to learn about the bone horn. When he explained its power, they were shocked.

Kasumi's eyes widened with intrigue, her mind already racing with strategic possibilities. "That could be incredibly useful," she remarked, her voice tinged with excitement. "Imagine if we could command the undead to fight for us. It could turn the tide of battle in our favor."

Viper offered a thoughtful nod. "Indeed, it's a very powerful tool, even if it's a one-time use."

"But it's also dangerous and could bring us and the little fellow a lot of trouble," Lucca suddenly spoke from behind the two women, grabbing everyone's attention.

"What do you mean?" Aron inquired, curious how using this item could cause problems for Grunt. But for Aron, if problems came his way, he would simply incinerate them.

"Well… based on his dark aura, the skeletons, and now this horn, I can confidently say that Grunt is a necromancer." Lucca began explaining. "Necromancy is a forbidden art. Teaching it, learning it, or practicing it is a quick ticket to a nice burning spike." He paused, glancing at Grunt who continued his search through the junk pile. "If Grunt is indeed a necromancer, he could face severe consequences if his abilities are discovered."

Aron's expression darkened as he absorbed Lucca's words. He couldn't bear the thought of the gentle little guy being burned alive. But as he dwelled on Lucca's words, something piqued his interest.

"Necromancy can be learned? Isn't it a unique magic people are born with?"

Lucca shook his head. "Both, My Lord," he explained. "Some are born with an affinity for necromancy. Typically, the Sun Church takes them away immediately. As for learning it, I don't know about other races, but humans, with their neutral mana, are said to learn it most easily."

"That's true," Viper chimed in. "Most necromancers are human. They form cult groups, seeking a sense of belonging. But the Sun Church relentlessly hunts them down."

"Huh... Of course, those golden-haired fanatics would hunt them down," Kasumi said with disdain. "They hate everyone."

Viper agreed. "Yes, they do. However, they seem to despise necromancers and vampires more than anything."

"Why?" Aron suddenly asked.

Viper crossed her arms, recalling from a moment before replying, "For vampires, I have no idea why, but for necromancers, everyone knows. In the past, the first necromancer attempted to destroy the world with his hordes of undead. Fortunately, the Aspects, led by the Sun Aspect, managed to defeat him."

"I guess he must've been incredibly powerful to force the Aspects to intervene?"

"Indeed, Master," Viper continued, her voice growing slightly tense. "He was extremely powerful. He even managed to inflict a fatal wound on an Aspect. After all, he was a..." Viper's voice trailed off, her eyes widening as she stared intently at Aron.

Aron's brow furrowed in curiosity at Viper's sudden pause. Sensing she was withholding crucial information, he leaned in slightly, urging her to continue with a subtle nod.

Viper hesitated for a moment before swallowing hard and continuing, "He was a... dragon."

"!!!" Aron's heart skipped a beat at the revelation. A DRAGON! The first necromancer was a dragon. Instantly, another thought ignited in his mind.

He whipped his head around, gazing at the three skeletons. They stood side-by-side, staring back at him as if awaiting his command.

'I-Imposible!...' 

He quickly turned back to Viper, asking the most important question in his mind "Do you know this dragon's name?"

Kasumi bit her lip, sensing the turmoil within Aron through their link. His thoughts were visible to her, and she desperately hoped the possibility gnawing at him wasn't true.

Viper shook her head. "No one knows his name. The Aspects made sure to erase it from history."

"I see," Aron murmured, his mind reeling with the implications of this newfound information. A faint possibility bloomed within him – could he be that dragon necromancer?

The signs were there. He knew he was the firstborn of the dragon race. He knew he was powerful enough to force the Aspects into submission, even seeking an alliance with him through marriage. He knew Sol, the Aspect of the Sun, had betrayed him and slaughtered his kin.

'Could this be the reason I invented necromancy... to revive my dead kin?' The thought flickered across his mind, but Aron swiftly dismissed it. 'Why do I treat this possibility as fact? I still don't have enough information.'

'System, do I possess necromancy magic?' he inquired inwardly.

[Negative, Master. Currently, you don't possess necromancy magic. However, I cannot guarantee it won't unlock later as you break more seals.]

'I see' 

Kasumi, Viper, and Lucca stood silently, observing the myriad expressions flitting across Aron's face – shock morphing into contemplation, realization giving way to uncertainty.

Kasumi and Viper exchanged a worried glance, understanding the weight on their Master's mind, while Lucca remained a stoic observer.

"Found it!" Grunt exclaimed, breaking the tense silence. He approached Aron, holding three objects crafted from bone. Two resembled small, finger-shaped whistles, while the third looked like a ribcage bracelet.

Aron's gaze shifted from the whistles to the bracelet, intrigued by Grunt's creations. "What are these, Grunt?" he asked, gesturing toward the objects.

Grunt's eyes sparkled with excitement as he held up the whistles. "These are Grunt's talking whistles," he explained proudly. "Grunt made them so Grunt can talk to friends."

Aron smiled, picking up one of the whistles and examining it. A system notification instantly materialized before him.

[Grunt's Talking Whistle: A whistle crafted by the Necromancer Grunt. Using it allows communication with Grunt. If the Necromancer is unavailable, the whistle can summon one of his undead to relay a message.]

Aron chuckled softly, seeing how the whistle's name perfectly described its function. "These are indeed talking whistles, well done, Grunt."

Grunt beamed at the praise, his eyes shining with pride. "Grunt happy Aron likes it," he said, nodding eagerly. "Grunt always wants to talk to Aron, Grunt wants you to take it."

"Oh, I'll gladly accept it, Grunt," Aron replied warmly, touched by the little necromancer's gesture. "Thank you for your gift. It will surely come in handy."

Grunt's smile widened at Aron's acceptance, his excitement palpable. Then he raised the other item, explaining, "This..." he paused, trying to recall something. "Well, Grunt has no idea what this is. Grunt just made it and never used it."

Aron raised an eyebrow, taking the bone bracelet and examining it closely.

[Grunt's Binding Cage: A bracelet crafted by the Necromancer Grunt. When used, it allows you to bind a spirit within the cage and bend it to your will.]

'Again, a very powerful object.'

Taking a deep breath, Aron faced the little guy. "Grunt, the items you made are very powerful and dangerous," he said, holding up the horn. "Especially this one."

Grunt's expression shifted from excitement to confusion as Aron spoke, his eyes widening slightly at the mention of the items being dangerous. He tilted his head to the side, struggling to grasp Aron's words.

"Dangerous?" Grunt echoed, his voice tinged with uncertainty. "But Grunt just wanted to help... Grunt didn't mean to make dangerous things."

Smiling reassuringly, Aron explained, "I know you did, Grunt, which is why I recommend you don't create more like these and be careful around other people."

Grunt's eyes widened in understanding. "Oh, Grunt remembers," he said. "Grunt used to be a normal boy living up there," he pointed a finger towards the ceiling. "But when Grunt started to change, bad people hurt Grunt, so Grunt escaped here to hide."

Kasumi, unable to contain her surprise, blurted out, "You weren't born like this?"

Grunt shook his head. "No, Grunt was normal, just like you."

Aron furrowed in concern as he listened to Grunt's story, a pang of sympathy tugging at his heart. It was evident that Grunt had faced hardships and mistreatment due to his unique situation and abilities.

"I'm sorry you had to go through that, Grunt," Aron said softly, his voice filled with empathy. "And since you weren't born like this, then maybe there's a cure."

Grunt's eyes widened with hope at Aron's suggestion, his expression lighting up with a mixture of excitement and disbelief. "A cure?" he repeated, his voice filled with anticipation. "Grunt never thought about that before... Do you really think there's a way to make Grunt normal again?"

Aron nodded, his gaze filled with determination. "I believe there might be a way," he replied firmly. "Which is why I have a question for you, Grunt."

Leaning closer, Aron spoke with sincerity. "Grunt, would you like to come with me?"

Grunt's eyes widened further, surprise flickering across his face. "Come with you?" he echoed, his voice laced with uncertainty. "But... why would you want Grunt to come with you?"

Aron's expression softened as he looked at Grunt. "Because we are friends now," he explained gently, "and friends take care of each other. However," he continued, "you don't have to answer right now. I understand this is a lot to take in. I'll be back after the monster waves to give you more time to think about it."

"Monster waves?" Grunt tilted his head, then quickly remembered. "Oh! Grunt knows about them," he said. "Grunt can sense bad things coming from..." he raised his hand and pointed north. "...That way."

"Can you sense how close the—" Aron began, but Grunt cut him off with a sudden burst of energy.

Darting to the left side of the room, Grunt rummaged through the junk pile, tossing objects aside with surprising speed. Finally, he retrieved what he was looking for – an old, magical calendar that only displayed the day and month when infused with mana. Grunt quickly infused it with his power and began counting on his fingers, muttering under his breath.

Concerned by Grunt's erratic behavior, Aron asked, "What's wrong, Grunt?"

Grunt looked up, his eyes filled with confusion. "Grunt is confused," he mumbled.

"About what?" 

Grunt pointed back towards the north. "When those bad things get close, Grunt always suffers from a pain here," he tapped his chest. "The pain makes Grunt really angry, so Grunt always likes to lock himself away so he won't hurt his friends."

'Is he talking about the monster waves? Do they affect him somehow?' Aron pondered.

"Really? A pain?" he asked, his voice laced with concern.

Grunt nodded vigorously. "Yes. Grunt always likes to prepare before they come, but Grunt is confused now." He glanced down at the old calendar. "Those bad things are closer than they should be."

Alarm bells clanged inside Aron's head as he absorbed Grunt's words. He immediately rose from the couch and approached Grunt. "Explain, Grunt," he said urgently.

Startled by Aron's sudden seriousness, Grunt quickly showed him the calendar. The calendar had several marked dates. Grunt pointed to one specific mark, explaining, "Grunt is getting the same feeling. Grunt is supposed to feel it on this day."

When Aron saw the date Grunt was pointing to, his blood ran cold. It was exactly two weeks from now.

"Are you absolutely certain, Grunt?" he inquired of the small guy once more.

Grunt dipped his head in agreement, his gaze resolute. "Grunt is sure."

"What's wrong, Master?" Kasumi interjected abruptly, having detected his swift shift in demeanor.

Aron pivoted towards his companions, delivering the news with a heavy heart. "The monster waves are coming sooner than expected"