Karnak, Monarch of Death

Deep within a forest shrouded in darkness, a group of about a dozen pursuers brandishing torches scoured the dense woods.

”This way! Over here!”

”We’ve found him!”

The torchlight revealed a man hiding among the trees. It was a man with an unkempt appearance and rough features, looking to be in his thirties.

The man muttered ominously, his voice carrying a sinister undertone. ”They’ve caught up already...”

The pursuers closed in, drawing their swords as they encircled him. Emerging from the encircling formation was a warrior clad in armor bearing the sun’s emblem.

”Fallen necromancer,” the holy warrior of Latiel declared. ”Kneel before the goddess and seek her mercy!”

”Grrr...”

The man glanced around frantically, his eyes darting between the soldiers. Then, suddenly, he unleashed an ear-piercing scream.

”Raaaargh!”

Darkness surged around him, rising like a malevolent tide. The holy warrior immediately tensed, shouting a warning. ”Be on guard! He’s summoning evil spirits again!”

The darkness coalesced into five shadowy spirits that lunged toward the encirclement. The soldiers, however, were undeterred. They had faced these wraiths before.

”It’s useless!”

”The blessing of Latiel is with us!”

Each soldier held up a talisman of the sun god in their left hand while thrusting forward with their swords in the right. Ordinarily, mere blades would be ineffective against spectral entities. But for some reason, the evil spirits faltered, their forms flickering as the soldiers’ attacks landed.

Explosions of light and sound erupted across the battlefield. The holy talismans imbued the soldiers’ swords with the power to strike ethereal beings.

Yet, the evil spirits did not fall easily. Though their forms wavered, they unleashed piercing, otherworldly howls that rattled the soldiers’ nerves.

Waaaaaaah!

Amidst the chaos, the man seized the opportunity to flee.

”Don’t think you can get away!” bellowed the knight, leaping into action.

The man dropped to his knees and placed both hands on the ground, summoning his power. ”Arise! Spirits of darkness!”

Three more tendrils of shadow erupted from the earth, transforming into new spirits. The knight adjusted his grip on his sword as the spectral figures charged from all directions.

”So, you still have this much power left?”

The blade of his longsword began to glow, radiating divine energy as he swung.

”Hyaaaah!”

The warrior’s strikes cut through the spirits effortlessly. As a servant of Latiel, Goddess of the Sun, the holy warrior wielded powers that directly countered necromancy. It took him a mere ten seconds to obliterate all three wraiths.

But that was more than enough time for the man to vanish into the forest’s depths. Watching his quarry disappear into the darkness, the holy warrior clenched his teeth in frustration.

”Hmph! That vile necromancer won’t get far!”

***

Fred, the necromancer, gritted his teeth as he ran frantically through the winding mountain paths.

”Damn those dogs of the goddess...”

Only six months ago, Fred had been a lowly laborer eking out a miserable existence in the back alleys of Derath City, a northern trading hub in Count Chad’s domain.

Life had been nothing but toil and despair. Carrying heavy loads all day earned him nothing more than pocket change. His meals consisted of coarse scraps, and his bed was little more than a hovel that wouldn’t even suffice for a stable. The only solace in his bleak life was drowning himself in cheap, biting liquor to numb his senses.

That night, like so many others, Fred lay drunk in a back alley, sprawled across the ground. ”Damn this filthy world...”

Why were nobles blessed by being birthed into wealthy families? Why did they get to live lives of ease while he wallowed in this misery?

”Maybe I should just end it all...”

As his lips let slip the refrain of his despair, his gaze rose to the starless night sky. The darkness in the alley expanded and enveloping him completely. Shadows coiled around his body and seeped into him, filling him to the core.

”W-what is this?!”

At first, terror overwhelmed him. But it didn’t last long. Not because the situation became less frightening, but because the emotion itself—fear—began to fade, as though it were being stripped away from him. He felt numb to the emotion.

Then came the realization.

”This... this is...”

It was power. It was pure authority, shadow, and death. No one needed to explain it to him. He understood instinctively. This was the very force the world’s religions decried with raised voices: the apocalyptic power foretold in the Prophecy of Doom.

”Aah...”

Fred’s body went rigid like a corpse as he let out a shaky moan. The wisdom of the darkness seeped directly into his soul, whispering truth without words and demanding a choice.

If he rejected it, the shadows would leave, and his life would return to its wretched normalcy. If he embraced it, he would gain this power—but at the cost of abandoning the path of humanity.

Choose.

Choose.

Choose...

Abandon humanity?

Fred sneered.

When was I ever treated as human in the first place?

The decision was too easy. Without hesitation, Fred embraced the darkness. He gained power and, with it, an innate understanding of how to wield it. The method was surprisingly simple. He simply needed to desire it desperately, and the darkness would manifest into spirits—malevolent wraiths that obeyed his will.

Fred’s first act was to send those wraiths after the foreman of the construction guild who had mistreated him for years. He killed him. Then, he turned them on the gangsters who had bullied him in the alleys.

Oddly, he felt no fear in killing. His only concern was whether he might get caught. Luckily, he didn’t. The wraiths struck silently, stealing lives without leaving any trace. No one suspected Fred of the murders.

His killings gradually became bolder. He broke into the homes of the wealthy, slaughtering entire households. He stole their valuables and squandered his newfound wealth in brothels, indulging in every vice and luxury.

Anyone with an ounce of sense would have realized such a lifestyle couldn’t last. Even if his identity remained hidden at first, the escalating series of murders wouldn’t go unnoticed forever. The seven churches were already monitoring anomalies across the continent, preparing for the calamities foretold by the Prophecy of Doom.

But Fred was too intoxicated by his newfound pleasures to think that far ahead. Inevitably, the Church of the Sun sent inquisitors to Derath City. The priests quickly identified Fred’s true nature and began a relentless pursuit.

The malevolent wraiths that had so easily taken the lives of ordinary people proved powerless against those blessed with divine protection. Faced with knights and soldiers fortified by divine power, Fred could do little more than flee, clinging desperately to his life.

He fled north, leaving the lands of Count Chad behind, constantly on the run. The fugitive’s life was merciless. Fred endured freezing nights and unrelenting hunger while wandering the wilderness like a beast. Yet, he never regretted choosing the darkness. He only felt bitterness.

”Why has my life come to this...?”

Hiding in the bushes, Fred gnawed at his fingernails, his gaze wild.

”Damn it, if only I had more power...”

Not once did he reflect on his crimes. In his mind, his plight was not the consequence of his actions but the result of his own weakness. If only he had the strength to annihilate his pursuers, he would not have to suffer like this.

”I need to grow stronger...”

In the shadows of the forest, a twisted smile stretched across Fred’s face.

”Yes, all I need to do is escape this for now.”

If he could survive this moment, he could kill more, gain more power, and eventually wield an overwhelming darkness capable of wiping out anyone in his path.

”Just you wait. When the time comes, I’ll kill you all!”

Even cornered, Fred was still intoxicated by the allure of power.

***

A squad of soldiers lay in wait at a narrow mountain path leading to the wastelands north of the Zeden Mountains. They lay low, hidden alongside the trail. These were members of the pursuit team sent from the Church of Latiel. They remained silent and in position, without torches or any source of light. Their breathing was faint in the still night air. After a long, tense wait, a middle-aged priest in his forties turned to his companion. It was the head of the pursuit team, Priest Rosso.

He spoke in a low voice, ”Are you certain he will come this way?”

A soldier from the Zestrad Barony, assigned as their guide, nodded with a serious expression.

”It’s highly likely. There are very few passable paths for a human in the Zeden Mountains.”

And sure enough, faint footsteps began to echo from the other side of the trail. Moments later, a shadow emerged under the pale moonlight—a man in tattered, filthy clothes, his appearance worn and haggard from a long and arduous flight. The man glanced around nervously as he continued to run along the path, oblivious to the trap awaiting him.

Now!

The moment he stepped into their midst, Rosso signaled the squad’s mage. The mage raised both hands and chanted.

”Reveal all around, Lumis Light!”

A sphere of light burst forth, illuminating the area in a blinding radiance.

Flash!

”Huh?”

Fred shielded his eyes while staggering back in surprise. The squad seized the chance and began to move, forming a tight encirclement around their prey.

Fred lowered his hands and quickly surveyed the situation, cursing under his breath. ”Damn it! Was it a trap?”

Rosso smirked in satisfaction as he watched the man’s panic.

”Indeed, a single local guide is worth more than a hundred maps.”

The encirclement tightened gradually, methodically blocking any avenues of escape for the necromancer. The pursuit team was in no rush, and they were determined to leave no gaps in their net.

Fred glared at his pursuers before suddenly shouting in rage, ”Do you think you can capture me?!”

The veins on his face bulged, dark red and grotesque.

”I wield the great power of the darkness!”

Though he had never formally studied necromancy or learned proper incantations, Fred didn’t need them. He knew nothing of spells, but he knew how to summon power. Clenching his teeth, he forced the darkness within him to surge.

”Aaaaargh!”

The shadows around him flared and twisted into the form of numerous dark spirits. Nearly twenty emerged, a clear desperate effort from Fred.

”Go, my spirits! Kill them all!”

The soldiers, however, remained unfazed.

”Hah! Your struggle is futile!”

”It won’t work!”

”Everyone, take out your talismans!”

Following their training, they quickly fell into formation while readying their defenses. They struck with weapons blessed by priests, slashing and defeating the approaching spirits with precision.

”No, no...!” Fred trembled in fear as one by one, his summoned spirits dissipated into nothingness.

Shrieeek!

Aaaargh!

The haunting cries of the spirits echoed as Fred gritted his teeth. If this continued, he would lose. If this continued, he would be captured and sentenced to burn at the stake.

I won’t let that happen!

Suddenly, Fred’s eyes rolled back, leaving only the whites visible. A crimson glow erupted from the sockets before spilling out in a sinister blaze.

”Aaaaaah!”

Beneath him, a translucent figure began to rise. The flickering form of a ghostly wraith emerged, its pale, flickering body trailing a tattered, shadowy cloak. A piercing scream erupted from its maw.

Shrieeeeeek!

Rosso, who had been observing the battle with confidence, felt his expression harden in an instant.

That’s...!

The gray apparition swept through the ranks of soldiers. Its mere aura caused every single talisman of Latiel in its path to explode.

”What?!”

”Our talisman!”

The ghost darted among the troops, emitting an eerie, hissing noise like the slithering of a serpent. One by one, the soldiers began to collapse.

”Ugh!”

”Aaaaaah!”

The priests watched in horror. No matter how much divine power they unleashed, they could not force the wraith’s power to dissipate.

”It-it’s a wraith!”

”Impossible! I didn’t think he was a high-level necromancer capable of summoning such a spirit!”

***

Two figures were watching the battle unfold on a ridge overlooking the mountain path. It was Karnak and Varos, hidden in the shadows.

”Well, look at him rampaging,” Karnak muttered, his tone dripping with disdain, in stark contrast to the astonished expressions of the priests.

A high-level necromancer capable of summoning wraiths? Who? Him?

He scoffed. ”That guy doesn’t even know the first thing about necromancy.”

A competent necromancer would have summoned a wraith efficiently through precise incantations and rituals. But this one? He’d barely managed to scrape together the dark power needed to summon a single creature, and even that had been done in the crudest way imaginable.

”Well, I guess that’s why necromancy is so appealing. It’s an easy shortcut to power.”

A mage couldn’t cast a single spell without precise chants and mastery of their mana. Dumping raw magical energy haphazardly? All that would do was leave the caster exhausted with nothing to show for it. Magic required knowledge and wisdom.

Necromancy, however, was different.

Even an ignorant brute could produce results if they poured enough necrotic energy into it with sheer determination, albeit at terrible efficiency. Yet the summoned wraith itself wasn’t different from any other.

It didn’t matter whether an unskilled fool recklessly expended vast amounts of energy to summon it or a master necromancer followed the rules with precision and efficiency—the resulting summon was essentially the same.

So, in terms of raw necrotic power, is he actually stronger than me?

Next to him, Varos asked cautiously. ”What will you do, young master? It seems they’ve spotted him before we could act.”

”Hmm. Maybe we hired guides that were too competent.”

Originally, the plan had been to move quietly and secure the necromancer before the priests of Latiel could. But the soldiers of Zestrad he had guide them had been too competent. They’d set the perfect trap and successfully lured out the necromancer.

”If they capture him as is, won’t that be a problem?”

”It’s not ideal, but it’s not necessarily a problem either.”

If the necromancer were taken by the church? Karnak could use the lord’s authority to secure a brief window for interrogation.

If the necromancer died here? Then he’d simply use necromancy to summon his spirit and interrogate him.

No matter what happened, there was always a way to adapt. Still, the simplest solution would be to capture the necromancer themselves and interrogate him leisurely in a secure location. A moment later, Varos’s eyes sparkled.

”Oh? He’s running. I guess even a wraith is enough to delay the priests at that level.”

In the distance, Fred could be seen fleeing to the opposite side of the road after unleashing the wraith into chaos.

”This just got easier.”

Karnak gestured with his chin.

”Let’s move.”