Monarch of Death

Hugot and the eight necromancers were fully engrossed in their continued preparations for the ritual.

They constantly infused necromantic power into the mysterious symbols inscribed at the altar’s edges.

Demphis watched the scene from his seat on the skull throne.

‘Everything’s going smoothly.’

Everything was progressing as planned. The escaped King’s Order of Yustil had shown no further signs of movement. The wraiths that had occasionally appeared had vanished again.

‘Did they give up after realizing their final move wouldn’t work?’

There was no guarantee that the King’s Order, renowned though they were, would always act out of noble conviction and camaraderie. Judging from the situation, it was logical to assume they had given up.

Especially since his subconscious strongly supported this conclusion.

‘No way that guy is someone who would look out for his comrades. No doubt about it.’

Letting go of any concerns about the King’s Order, Demphis focused solely on the descent ritual.

It was truly an immense and complicated ritual that even an Arch Lich like him could not afford to take lightly.

At that moment, a middle-aged necromancer entered the chapel.

“What is it, Soress?”

“I’ve come to give a status report.”

The report was nothing unusual. He just elaborated on the fact that nothing had happened.

The only thing different from his usual demeanor was that, even during the report, Soress kept glancing at the altar in the center of the chapel.

More precisely, he was watching Hugot and the eight necromancers, who were sweating profusely.

It wasn’t particularly awkward behavior.

His superiors had been struggling with that task for hours, while Soress himself had been spared from the hard labor thanks to the intrusion of the enemies. All he had to do was handle some light tasks.

Now that the ritual had already begun, it wasn’t possible to swap out any of the necromancers. It was only natural that he felt a bit self-conscious.

Suppressing an amused smile, Demphis waved his hand dismissively.

“Well done. Keep maintaining the perimeter.”

“Yes, Lord Demphis.”

***

After delivering the report, Soress returned to his chamber.

Deep inside his stone room, into what he called his ‘private space,’ Soress’ eyes suddenly lost all light.

Karnak muttered, looking at the middle-aged man with blank, unfocused eyes.

“Let’s see how things are going.”

When Karnak placed his fingers on Soress’ forehead, a vision of light appeared in the air.

It was the scene Soress had observed earlier in the underground chapel.

The shape of the altar, the red markings etched all over the stone chamber, the sight of Hugot, the eight necromancers, and even the Arch Lich—all were clearly displayed in the image.

Seeing Demphis casually interacting with Soress, Baros breathed a sigh of relief.

“Seems like he hasn’t noticed anything.”

“Indeed. I was a bit nervous.”

Karnak’s mind control technique was so incredibly refined that most necromancers couldn’t detect it.

However, since his necromantic power wasn’t what it used to be, a truly powerful necromancer might still be able to sense traces of his influence.

Yet, even Demphis appeared to have noticed nothing amiss.

Serati, surprised, remarked.

“Isn’t an Arch Lich supposed to be one of the strongest undead?”

Karnak shook his head.

“Being a powerful undead doesn’t necessarily make you a powerful necromancer.”

A lich, after all, is born when a dying mage extends their life in order to continue their magic pursuits. While the necromantic spells binding their bodies are powerful, their methods are more akin to dark magic.

“Though, to be fair, Demphis has let his guard down quite a bit.”

Karnak continued, amused.

“For such a cautious fellow, it’s surprising he’s so careless this time. Maybe he’s not the Demphis I once knew?”

Regardless, they had gathered all the necessary information.

The route to the underground chapel, the defenses at the altar, the positions of the hostages, and even Demphis’ condition were all now clear.

“Time to make the next move.”

Karnak raised his right hand but then hesitated momentarily, turning to Serati.

“Just to double-check…”

“Yes?”

“It’s fine if I revert to my old ways for a bit, just to save our comrades, right?”

Serati didn’t answer immediately. She had learned from experience not to answer such questions lightly.

“…May I first ask what exactly you’re planning?”

“I’m going to use more necromancy.”

“Uh? Well… that shouldn’t be a problem…”

Though puzzled, she nodded.

‘He’s been using necromancy all along, so why ask now?’

Karnak, relieved, raised his right hand higher.

“Good.”

And without warning, he swung a blade of darkness across Soress’ neck.

Splat!

More than half of Soress’ neck was severed, sending a fountain of blood spraying out.

The cut was so deep that his head hung back, nearly severed.

Serati screamed in shock.

“What are you doing?!”

“Hmm? I told you, didn’t I?”

Karnak replied calmly, without the slightest change in expression.

“I’m going to use more necromancy.”

“But did you have to kill him out of nowhere?”

“Well, if he were still alive, he wouldn’t be very useful. I had to kill him so I could make him useful with necromancy.”

Soress’ corpse slumped to the floor like a felled log.

Thud!

A pool of blood began to spread across the floor.

“Why? What’s wrong? Didn’t you say it was okay for me to act like before?”

“Uh… well, yes, but…”

“Anyway, this guy would’ve been executed if captured by the King’s Order, right?”

“That’s true, but…”

Someone like Soress would definitely face the death penalty. Being part of a heretical cult was already a grave crime, and on top of that, he was a necromancer. He was doomed either way.

“If it’s a life doomed to end, isn’t it better to use it to save others and atone for his sins?”

Serati sighed inwardly at Karnak’s shameless attitude.

‘This guy has no concept of paying for his own sins, does he?’

Still, she didn’t press the issue further.

After all, Soress was indeed guilty, and arguing about it wouldn’t bring the dead back to life, right?

Then, an ironic smile crept across Serati’s face.

‘Well, maybe he can come back to life?’

Indeed, Soress’ body began to twitch again.

The blood pooling on the floor slowly dried, turning a dark red. Red mist drifted toward the severed neck and was absorbed.

The neck reattached itself, and the corpse stood up once more.

“Urrrgh…”

“Good. He’s turned into a decent-quality undead.”

Karnak, satisfied with his work, gave his orders.

“Prepare yourselves. It’s time to begin.”

While Karnak couldn’t detect everything with precision, he could roughly sense the flow of energy in the space around him.

The surge of necromantic power in the underground chapel was nearing its peak.

“If we move now, we’ll arrive at the right moment.”

***

Dark energy swirled throughout the chapel.

The dark symbols on the pentagonal altar also emitted a soft, blood-red light.

The Arch Lich, who had been seated on the throne, stood up.

“At last, it is complete.”

With an ominous voice, he commanded.

“Children of Tesranak, prepare the vessels.”

Four necromancers moved toward the chamber where the hostages were kept.

Moments later, they dragged out Laven.

“Mmph! Mmpph!”

He struggled, but it was futile.

His limbs were tightly bound, and his mouth gagged, leaving him unable to move.

The necromancers laid Laven on the altar and secured him.

Laven, terrified, glanced around in fear.

‘What the hell are these madmen planning?’

It wasn’t hard to guess.

When necromancers tie someone down on an altar, what else could it be?

He simply didn’t want to acknowledge it.

As Laven was placed on the altar, Demphis spoke again.

“Everyone, take your positions.”

Hugot and the eight necromancers stood in a circle around the pentagonal altar. Demphis also slowly made his way forward.

The skeletal figure in a black robe stood tall before the altar, gazing down at the bound Laven.

With flickering blue eyes, he reached into his robe with bony fingers and pulled something out.

A pitch-black cube.

“Now, the descent ritual shall begin.”

The nine necromancers began to chant in unison.

“Karl Lapica Dratia…”

“Dephet Lastali Fahayu…”

The eerie, unhuman voices echoed ominously within the chapel.

Demphis, too, clutched the black cube he had pulled from the illusory space and slowly began his incantation.

“The door of the void shall open, and the threads of forbidden fate shall intertwine…”

The slow chanting continued.

Dark currents swirled, forming a massive vortex at the ceiling of the chapel.

The symbols on the altar began to glow with a brilliant, bloody radiance.

An overwhelming surge of malevolent energy filled the chamber, threatening to burst at any moment.

Rumble!

The ground trembled subtly, as if an earthquake had struck.

Seeing this, Demphis felt satisfied.

The ritual was a success. Every step of the process had flowed smoothly.

Then, suddenly—

Clang!

The chapel door swung open with a loud crash.

The necromancers, startled, turned their gazes toward the source of the noise.

‘What is this?’

They had strictly warned the followers to stay away from the chapel no matter what happened. There was no way that any of the cult members, in their right mind, would dare to enter at this point.

Could it be an intruder? The escaped King’s Order of Yustil?

‘Impossible!’

‘We secured the perimeter so thoroughly!’

But entering the chapel were two barely clothed figures.

More specifically, a pot-bellied middle-aged man wearing only underwear and a zombie girl with bluish skin dressed in nothing but undergarments.

Hand in hand, the two skipped into the chapel with an unnervingly carefree energy, almost like rabbits hopping along.

Admittedly, very odd and disheveled rabbits.

Hugot muttered in a dazed voice.

“…Soress?”

The other necromancers froze as well.

If it had been a true attack, they would have reacted immediately. If it were an ally acting suspiciously, they would have responded just as quickly.

But this… what was this?

“Uh…”

“Hmm…”

“T-that…”

It was unexpected, but not entirely out of place. It was the kind of bizarre scene one could almost imagine Soress being part of, given his eccentricities.

Even Demphis had a similar reaction.

‘Ah, this guy finally went mad. Well, there were warning signs.’

While everyone remained frozen in place, Soress, still holding the zombie girl’s hand, hopped all the way to the altar.

Hugot clicked his tongue, stepping forward to stop him.

“Tsk tsk, Soress, my friend, what on earth—”

But then it happened.

Hugot finally noticed Soress’ true state.

His lifeless white eyes, the cold, unmoving skin, the complete lack of breath.

‘He… he’s dead?’

Soress was no longer among the living. He was unmistakably undead.

‘What is this?’

Suddenly, Soress’ entire body began to swell at an alarming speed, and then—

An enormous explosion erupted.

BOOOOOOOM!