Necromancer: Kingdom Building with My Legion of Undead Knights

Half?

Half of that mountain of meat?

Even half was an enormous amount. More than any of them had ever received from a hunt. More than they had ever imagined receiving.

Seren looked at Darion with surprise. She hadn’t expected him to give away that much. Neither had the knights. Neither had anyone. The old Barons would never have done something like this.

They would have taken everything for themselves, maybe thrown a scrap to the hunters if they were feeling generous. But half? Half of everything? That was unheard of.

But Darion didn’t waver. He had thought it through, and he was sure. The archers had earned it. They had risked their lives, pushed their skills, and come back with enough food to enough people.

It felt like no one could utter thank you at that moment. They were still stunned by this enormous generosity from their Baron. Mouths hung open slightly. Eyes blinked. A few of the archers looked at each other as if checking whether they had heard correctly. Even the two knights, who had seen Darion make unconventional decisions before, seemed caught off guard.

Then an archer broke the silence. In the group, he was the one who always seemed to start jokes or lighten the mood. He had a reputation for saying the wrong thing at the right time, and somehow making it work.

”What are we supposed to do with half a Cteedle?”

The tension broke immediately. Several archers laughed. Another joked that they would need to build bigger storage sheds just to hold all the meat. Someone else suggested having a feast, he did so in a low tone to a friend beside him, suggesting a real feast, probably the kind Percvale hadn’t seen in years. The idea was one that would definitely spread quickly through the group, that would leave voices rising with excitement.

Darion smiled.

”That’s your problem to figure out,” he said. ”Not mine.”

More laughter followed. The courtyard, which had been tense and quiet just moments ago, now buzzed with energy. The archers were grinning, slapping each other on the back, already imagining the meals they would make.

Then they all bowed and thanked Darion in unison.

”Thank you, m’lord.”

”We’re really grateful.”

”We won’t forget this.”

The words came from different voices, overlapping but sincere. Some of the older archers looked really moved. For people who had spent years scraping by, receiving nothing from the old Barons but neglect, this kind of generosity was more than just meat. It was a really good thing.

All except Seren, of course. She wasn’t the type to bow and chant with the group. After they were done, she came closer, looked at Darion in the eyes, and said simply:

”Thank you.”

Darion smiled and nodded.

The archers began talking among themselves, probably already planning how to divide the meat, who would take what, whose family needed it most.

Darion watched them for a moment, then turned and walked back toward the stable.

Behind him, he heard one of the archers say: ”I can’t believe he gave us half.”

Darion kept walking. The smile stayed on his face.

Now his reason for going to the stable: he had unfinished business there.

For days, he had been prolonging restocking his undead inventory. It wasn’t laziness, well, maybe a little. But mostly it was intentional. He had to focus on Kingdom (Barony) building, and that was what he had been really doing, putting all his time and energy into. Meetings with Garren. Planning the livestock project. Sending knights to check timber prices. Dealing with debts and alliances. There was always something.

But now he was free. Literally having nothing to do for once. The archers were handling the meat. Garren was handling the timber. For the first time in quite some time, there was no urgent matter demanding his attention.

He was even somewhat relaxed now in a way. The urgency that had faced him back then was now little. When he had first arrived in Percvale, everything had been pressing: the knights were starving, the castle was falling apart, Valdenmoor was breathing down his neck, and the debt felt like a mountain he would never climb. Every day had been a fight just to keep things from getting worse.

There was no time to breathe, no space to think, no moment when he wasn’t worried about something.

But now? Now things were different. The knights ate well. The farmland was being restored. Valdenmoor had been dealt with, not destroyed, but neutralized. Aldric was bound by an oath he couldn’t break. The debt to Thandor was gone entirely, and the other debts suddenly seemed manageable.

So now, he had to begin the process of digging up graves of dead knights who had served under Percvale, reviving them, and adding them to his forces.

Because for all he knew, battle was inevitable in this part of the world. Valdenmoor had been dealt with, but there were other territories, other debts, other potential threats. A necromancer with an empty inventory was a necromancer who wasn’t prepared.

He summoned his stats as he walked to the stable.

[STATUS]

Name: Darion

Title: Baron of Percvale

Class: Necromancer

Rank: Acolyte

Territory: Percvale (Border Domain)

Territorial Resonance: Low (Starving-aligned — Improving)

[ATTRIBUTES]

Strength: 66

Agility: 56

Endurance: 66

Vitality: 59

Perception: 64

Intelligence: 91

Willpower: 71

[Knight Undead Inventory: 20/150]

[Animal Undead Inventory: 10/70]

[Skills: Death Perception, Distant Command]

He looked at it. Nothing had increased. That was to be expected, he had been chill these past days, doing nothing much. No battles, no major necromancy and no reason for his stats to climb. Intelligence was still his highest at 91, which made sense. He had been doing a lot of thinking, planning, and negotiating. The rest had stayed flat.

Twenty undead knights. Ten undead animals. A far cry from what he could potentially hold. The numbers felt small compared to the inventory caps — 150 knights, 70 animals. He had a damn lot of work to do. Graves to find and bodies to raise.

He found a good horse in the stable, mounted it, and rode toward the graveyard.