Karnak, Monarch of Death

Fred was pushing through the dark underbrush, his breath labored and uneven.

I have to avoid the mountain paths.

Even he, as dimwitted as he was, had learned after being cornered multiple times. Sticking to the trail would only lead him straight into the pursuers’ grasp.

But his wasn’t a wise decision by any stretch. Veering off the path into a dark forest was a dangerous move. Especially for someone like Fred, whose physical abilities were no better than an average person’s and who relied solely on his necromantic skills.

Yet, it couldn’t be called foolish, either. If staying on the trail meant certain capture, what other choice did he have? He pressed onward and navigated his way through the treacherous forest. He searched for even the slightest foothold to move forward.

At least one thing worked in his favor—his necromantic powers could clear the dense underbrush blocking his way.

“Destroy!”

A spirit materialized and tore through the tangled shrubs in front of him, carving a path. Fred trudged forward with heavy steps through the new path.

If I can just get out of here...

His body was battered and drained, his stamina and necrotic energy all but depleted. Hunger gnawed at his insides, and the biting cold blurred his senses.

He staggered on like a zombie, mumbling incoherently. “As long as I can get out of here... If I can just get out of here...”

***

Karnak and Varos were sprinting through the forest.

“He fled this way.”

They followed Fred’s escape route with precision, never straying or losing their way. There was a clear reason they could do this.

“Tsk tsk, I told you—using necromancy while running away is a terrible idea.”

It didn’t take much work for Karnak to sense the traces left by the evil spirits. Such traces might be imperceptible to the average person, but to Karnak, they were as blatant as shining signposts.

“This is exactly how the priests of Latiel tracked him all the way to our domain.”

Necrotic energies at this level would leave trails easily detectable by the priests. While they wouldn’t be glaringly obvious, they were still discernible.

“Not that he’d even realize that, of course.”

Karnak shook his head. He couldn’t mock the man too harshly—he’d made the same mistakes in his youth. This forested area was the very same place where Karnak and Varos had once been pursued in another life. And now, another necromancer was being hunted through these woods.

“It’s strange, but I can’t help but feel a sense of familiarity.”

Not that Karnak was waxing nostalgic or feeling any kind of human empathy. If he had that much capacity for emotion, he wouldn’t have delved into the dark and cursed art of necromancy to begin with.

“And since it’s rather familiar, I can guess where he’ll run.”

Surveying the terrain ahead, Karnak turned to Varos and asked, “If we keep heading this way, we’ll reach it, right?”

Varos nodded in understanding. “Ah, you mean there?”

Roughly ten minutes from their current position lay a stream bordered by a jagged cliff. The cliff’s fissures twisted in a zigzag pattern, making it a near-perfect hiding spot. Firelight couldn’t escape its cracks, and the natural airflow ensured excellent ventilation. A grin spread across Karnak’s face.

“A shivering fugitive wouldn’t be able to resist a spot like that.”

Just like Karnak and Varos during their own desperate flight, Fred was exhausted from the cold and hunger. His body and mind would crave warmth and comfort above all else. But lighting a fire carelessly was out of the question. A flame’s glow in the dead of night could be seen from miles away.

Using necromancy to conjure black flames to keep warm wasn’t an option either. That would be like doing push-ups to stave off the cold—effective for a moment but ultimately draining far more energy. Given his state, would Fred really be able to pass up such an excellent hiding spot?

“He’ll stay holed up until sunrise, just like we did back then.”

“What if he doesn’t find the place and keeps moving?” Varos asked.

“Then we keep tracking him. There’s no harm in checking it out first.”

“Fair enough.”

They already knew the location of the cliff. Their pace quickened as they raced toward their goal.

“Let’s hurry. We don’t want the damned priests to get to him first.”

“Yes, young master.”

***

A small fire crackled in the narrow crevice of the cliff.

Crackle, crackle...

Beyond the flickering firelight, Fred lay curled up, fast asleep. For a moment, he dreamt a happy dream. In the dream, the arrogant nobles who always lorded over him were screaming as they met their end.

“Ahhh!”

Beautiful women who never gave him a second glance groveled before him, begging for their lives. They would do anything as long as he let them live.

“Pl-please spare me!”

He pondered. Should he just kill them? Or should he defile them first and then kill them?

“Hehehe...”

A grin spread across Fred’s face as he slept. Oh, how joyous those days had been. How wonderful it would be to have them back again. But then, a voice shattered his dream.

“Well, look at that, he really is here, young master.”

“And he didn’t even bother setting up a barrier around him? Bold of him.”

Fred jolted awake, startled.

Who... who is that?

The voices came from just beyond the crevice.

“Or maybe he just doesn’t know how,” the other voice replied.

“That makes sense. He’s clearly not trained properly.”

Fred was fully awake now, his sleepiness completely vanished.

Have they already caught up to me?

He panicked and bolted out of the crevice. The narrow gap was a dead end. He knew that if he stayed, he’d be trapped with no way to escape. He scrambled toward the stream and emerged only to find two men calmly staring at him. They looked as if they had all the time in the world.

“He looks more normal than I expected, young master,” said one of them.

“Just because he’s a necromancer doesn’t mean he has to look like some grotesque monster,” replied the other.

“But you were a glowing green skeleton back then,” the first one retorted.

“And you were a hulking zombie with green-tinted muscles!”

“So what I’m saying is, we were both monstrous back then.”

“And what I’m saying is, this guy’s ordinary appearance means he’s weak. A proper necromancer wouldn’t look this normal, would they?”

Fred’s mind was spinning. He couldn’t make sense of their strange banter.

“Who are you?” he demanded.

“What do you think?” Karnak smirked. “We’re here to capture you.”

It wasn’t an unreasonable conclusion. Who else would come looking for him in a situation like this?

“How dare you!” Fred, enraged by their mockery, called upon the darkness. “Come forth, evil spirits!”

The shadows coalesced, forming two evil spirits. But instead of attacking, they hesitated. It was because an ominous feeling crept over them.

Damn it! Who are these bastards? Why do I feel this way?

Varos drew his sword and stepped forward.

“Shall I handle this?”

“Go ahead. I’ll take this chance to practice a little myself,” Karnak said casually.

With a flick of his right index finger, Karnak traced a small circle in the air.

“Blade that strikes the ethereal, Spell Blade.”

Varos’s sword began to glow faintly white. It was being imbued with magic that allowed it to strike intangible beings, such as spirits. Though the spell was not as potent as a priest’s blessing, mages had their own methods for dealing with such entities. Of course, Karnak’s methods were something else entirely.

“How does it feel? Like real magic?”

“It’s close, but something feels... off,” Varos replied.

Technically, what he had casted wasn’t truly Spell Blade, but chaos magic designed to mimic its effects. It looked the same on the surface, but the formula and the flow of mana were fundamentally different.

“If anything, it feels more like a priest’s blessing. Just without the holy vibe.”

“And how would you even know what a blessing feels like? It’s not like you’ve ever received one.”

“I’ve seen others get them plenty of times. I can make a decent comparison.”

“I see. If I strip away the death energy, it becomes closer to divine magic than standard spells. That’s quite... interesting.”

Fred watched the exchange intently, assessing the situation. He still couldn’t make sense of their cryptic conversation, but one thing was clear.

“They’re mages...”

Just as priests instinctively recognized necromantic energy, necromancers could sense divine power. But from that smug, young man? He couldn’t feel a trace of divinity.

“If they’re not the goddess’s dogs...”

A fleeting expression of relief crossed Fred’s face. As long as he wasn’t up against a priest. He had already killed ordinary knights and mages! His confidence returned, and Fred barked out a laugh.

“Ha! How pathetic! Do you really think two fools like you can take me on?”

The two men didn’t react, save for snickering.

“Wow, how embarrassing. Where did he even learn to talk like that?”

“That’s almost exactly how you used to talk, young master.”

“I talked like that?”

“Almost identical. Is that what happens when you start tapping into necromancy?”

“...Shut up and deal with him already.”

Fred seethed with rage at their mocking banter. He snarled and unleashed his power.

“Go, my spirits! Kill them all!”

***

The wraiths screamed and surged toward the two men, splitting to attack from both sides.

Ahhhhhh!

Varos calmly assessed their positions before raising his glowing blade. He decided to deal with the one on the right first.

“Hah!”

With a sharp breath, he lunged, thrusting his blade straight through the spirit. He slashed upward in a diagonal arc, then spun to finish with a powerful downward strike.

Boom!

The spirit disintegrated in a burst of dark energy before it could even react.

“Too easy.”

But Varos didn’t stop. He carried his momentum forward and charged at the second spirit. The shadowy figure swelled in an attempt to envelop him in darkness.

“Hmph!”

With a scoff, Varos executed a swift double rising slash. Two crescent-shaped arcs of light tore through the air, shredding the evil spirit into fragments. It was Overkill, the signature move of Leven Strauss. Varos glanced down at his hands, clicking his tongue in mild frustration.

“Tch. Looks like I got familiar with it while having the young master practice.”

Fred’s eyes widened in shock.

“They defeated my spirits so easily?”

His hands trembled as he summoned more darkness, his voice rising in desperation.

“So you weren’t all bark after all! But this isn’t even my true power!”

The air grew heavy with a malevolent aura as a massive wave of darkness spread across the stream.

“Arise, my servants!”

Numerous evil spirits began emerging from the shadows, their eerie forms filling the battlefield. They numbered about a dozen.

“Again? Someone needs to expand their repertoire,” Karnak muttered, finally stepping into the fray.

Varos charged straight into the throng of spirits. He cut them down one after another without hesitation.

“Ha! Take this!”

Meanwhile, Karnak raised his hand and invoked his spells.

“Fire, condense and explode.”

Fireballs erupted, crashing into the evil spirits and consuming them in flames.

“The roar of the heavens flows into the earth.”

Bolts of lightning crackled, tearing through the darkness and obliterating their enemies.

Boom! Boom! Booooom!

One by one, the spirits were destroyed, their numbers dwindling rapidly under the relentless assault. Varos paused mid-swing, nodding in admiration.

“Wow, young master, you really do look like a proper mage.”

Karnak grinned, clearly pleased.

“Right? You can’t even tell the difference, can you?”

Fred’s face twisted further in frustration.

They’re strong... really strong...

It was clear now—no matter how many evil spirits he summoned, he stood no chance against them. He would need to call forth something much more powerful.

Damn it. But that spell’s side effects are brutal!

But if he didn’t use it, he’d be captured for sure. Fred resolved himself, and his expression twisted into something nearly demonic.

“Fine! Then I shall show you the true power of death!”

He raised both hands above his head, his eyes glowing a deep, menacing red.

“You shall kneel before the great darkness!”

“Wow, even the way he speaks is just like you, young master—”

“Shut up, Varos.”

“Yes, sir!”

With a piercing, bone-chilling scream, a gray specter materialized in the air. It was Fred’s most powerful summon: a wraith.

Screeeeeeech!

The sheer presence of the creature seemed to give even Karnak and Varos pause. Varos stepped back. His tone was serious. “That’s beyond what I can handle at my level.”

Karnak wore a similar expression of reluctance. “My magic can’t deal with that either. This is the limit of our current abilities.”

Fred laughed triumphantly when he saw the duo retreating.

“Well, it’s too late to beg for mercy now! Go, my wraith!”

The wraith streaked through the air, its elongated gray form trailing behind it.

Screeeeech!

Its shrill, ghostly wail shook the heavens and earth, spreading an overwhelming aura of death and malice in all directions. The scene was horrifying, as if death itself had taken shape. In an instant, the wraith reached Karnak. Just as the wraith was about to bear down on him—

“Hey.”

Karnak’s calm, bored voice cut through the chaos as he locked eyes with the wraith.

“Kneel.”

The wraith’s momentum halted mid-flight, and it plummeted to the ground.

Screeeeech...

Like a subject before its king, the wraith folded itself down, its form crumpling as it prostrated before Karnak. Or rather, since it didn’t have knees, it pressed its lower body flat against the ground in a gesture of complete submission.

Fred’s jaw dropped, his face frozen in utter disbelief.

What... what the hell is that?