Karnak, Monarch of Death

The next morning, as planned, Alius, Riltaine, Serati, Karnak, and his group departed Derath City. They initially split into four groups, heading in different directions—east, west, south, and north—each decked out in highly conspicuous attire: clerical robes for Alius, mage’s robes for Riltaine and Karnak, and armor for Varos and Serati.

After traveling separately for half a day, they changed course and regrouped at a prearranged location, where they began altering their appearances.

“Alright, time to go undercover,” Alius announced.

He swapped his clerical robes for a traveler’s outfit, even adding a rustic touch to his staff with worn carvings to disguise it as an ordinary walking stick. Karnak and Riltaine’s transformations were simpler—they only needed to remove their robes and conceal their wands. Varos and Serati, however, presented a bit more of a challenge.

For Varos, even without his armor, his hulking frame and well-trained physique were hard to miss. Since shrinking his size wasn’t an option, he instead donned an oversized coat and carried a massive pack, disguising himself as a hired laborer. The issue with Serati was her striking beauty.

It wasn’t unusual for women to travel with merchant caravans, but someone as stunning as her would inevitably draw attention. Yet, altering her appearance to look plain was also risky. In a place like Trist City, full of criminals and sharp-eyed individuals, disguises could be seen through and invite suspicion. Alius had anticipated this dilemma.

“If she’s bound to stand out, we might as well give her a reason that makes sense,” he said.

Thus, Serati was dressed as a noble lady traveling incognito, though poorly. She applied light makeup, wore elegant gloves, and draped herself in a humble traveler’s outfit that contrasted oddly with her refined appearance.

“Ugh, I’ve never put something like this on my face before,” Serati muttered, awkwardly patting her cheeks.

Riltaine chuckled as he watched her fidget.

“Well, this way, even if someone suspects us, it won’t matter.”

To strangers, they would look like ordinary merchants. To seasoned observers, they would appear to be a noblewoman and her entourage in disguise. Either way, their true identities would remain hidden. With their disguises complete, the group set out for Trist City, heading northwest along mountain paths.

As they walked along the mountainous paths, Varos grumbled, “Traveling on foot like this is going to take forever.”

Alius offered an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, but riding horses would draw too much attention.”

Horses were expensive, and simply owning one was enough to turn heads. Having disguised themselves as common travelers, they had to endure the hardships that came with it. But surprisingly, Karnak didn’t seem to mind.

“I don’t think it’s so bad,” he said.

In his previous life, Karnak had avoided physical exertion at all costs. He had even made absurd claims to justify his laziness:

“I’m the type who doesn’t sweat no matter how much I exercise!”

His aversion to activity had been so extreme that he genuinely believed his words. To him, the body was nothing more than a cumbersome obstacle, a nuisance to his intellectual pursuits. It was no wonder he had so easily transformed himself into an undead being. But now, things were different.

“Oh, my precious, precious body! I must take care of it!”

Thanks to consistent exercise, Karnak had regained his health, and with it came better physical condition and an appreciation for life’s simple pleasures—like the satisfaction of a good meal after a workout. He even made it a point to indulge in culinary delights while traveling.

“Alright, let’s eat!” Karnak announced promptly at lunchtime, calling the group to a halt.

They gathered under a tree near a small stream and began unpacking their food. For most travelers, meals on the road would consist of dried fruit, biscuits, and jerky. But Karnak’s group?

“Behold! Ox tongue terrine sandwiches with capers!”

“Roast pigeon with arugula purée and acacia tempura on the side!”

“Steamed crayfish seasoned with white wine and pepper!”

Varos’s pack revealed an array of gourmet dishes from Derath City’s finest restaurants. These were meals that utterly disregarded portability or shelf life—items one would never expect to see on a rugged mountain trail.

Alius muttered in disbelief, “...Anyone would think you packed nothing more than food.”

“You need a hearty meal to keep your strength up!” Varos declared proudly.

“...You didn’t seriously pack only food, did you?”

“I did. So what?”

In disbelief, Alius peered into Varos’s enormous pack, which was large enough to fit a grown man. Sure enough, it was entirely stuffed with meticulously packaged food.

“What about a change of clothes?”

“I can wash what I’m wearing!”

“And if it tears?”

“I’ll sew it up!”

“Armor or weapons...?”

“I’m wearing them under the coat! I’ll just keep it on!”

“Won’t that be exhausting?”

“Delicious food gives me energy!”

Alius was rendered speechless. Something about it didn’t seem right, but Varos’s strangely coherent logic left no room for rebuttal. Serati, too, looked exasperated.

“We’re traveling for another three or four days. Won’t the food spoil?”

Varos had already prepared for that. “Young master already cast preservation magic on it all!”

Riltaine’s jaw dropped. “You cast preservation magic on all of this food?”

Preservation magic wasn’t unheard of—it was a 3rd-circle spell, and Riltaine could use it himself. But even he opted for preserved rations rather than enchanting each meal. The reason for it was...

“That would’ve taken more than an entire day!”

Preservation magic wasn’t an instantaneous spell. Rather, it required sustained casting. For a 6th-circle mage like Riltaine, preserving meals for three days for one person would take an hour of uninterrupted focus. That inefficiency was why preserved foods remained essential despite the spell’s existence.

It’s impressive, but... did he really have to go that far?

Karnak, however, replied with confidence. “You need to put in the effort to eat good food, don’t you agree?”

“Uh... sure...”

In truth, it hadn’t taken Karnak nearly as long as Riltaine assumed.

I might have a limited pool of mana, but my calculation speed remains unchanged.

His mana reserves restricted him to the 4th circle, but his mastery of magical principles far surpassed even archmages. He could accomplish in ten minutes what would take Riltaine an entire day. The atmosphere became notably lighter as they shared the food. Neither Karnak nor Varos was stingy enough to hoard their meals.

“Would you like to join us?” Varos offered.

“Thank you!” Serati beamed as she eagerly accepted a sandwich.

No one could resist good food, and the shared meal quickly bridged the gap between the group members, even with those they had just met. As she chewed on her sandwich, Serati took the opportunity to observe her new companions. At a glance, they seemed ordinary—just a noble and his retainer, a common enough pair. Their abilities were undeniably impressive for their age, but compared to Serati, an aura user, they were definitely average.

And yet they’ve been capturing necromancers so effortlessly?

Her curiosity about their skills grew. Due to how quickly they mobilized, she hadn’t even had the chance to spar with them. How strong were they, really?

So far, they just seem like people who are obsessed with food...

Other than the elaborate meals, their journey was uneventful. Disguised as merchants, the group continued heading northwest along the Eustilia road. Four days later, they finally arrived at Trist City.

***

Throughout the journey, Karnak had been mulling.

The City of Sin, huh? What an ostentatious name.

Karnak was no stranger to slums. In his past life, he and Varos had survived by skulking through back alleys. Thus, he doubted this backwater could live up to its grandiose title, especially compared to the large cities he had experienced. Everywhere in the world had its share of lawless zones and places where security was lax. Making a fuss over one more seemed unnecessary.

At the end of the day, it’s just another place where people live.

...Or so he thought, until he saw Trist City for himself. Its title was apparent in how the city looked. Its foundational structure was solid, its layout well-planned. The city had once been part of the western frontier of the Eustil Kingdom, evident in the sturdy stone buildings and the relatively well-paved streets.

But now, all of it was half-collapsed. And the ruins were haphazardly patched with wooden planks and logs, providing barely functional shelter for its inhabitants.

It was too intact to be called a ruin, yet too desolate to be called a city. It was overcrowded for a place considered abandoned, yet far too grim to feel lively.

“What a... memorable city,” Karnak remarked dryly.

“There’s a reason they call it the City of Sin,” Alius replied.

As they continued walking, they arrived at a market. The marketplace was a chaotic sprawl of dilapidated buildings shoddily repaired, with stalls and makeshift tents scattered in every direction.

Karnak couldn’t help but smirk at the familiar sight.

This is exactly like the empire’s black markets.

The only difference was that this market operated, despite the sun still shining. As it was evening, the market was bustling with women shopping for dinner, their baskets in hand. Seeing this seemingly mundane scene, Serati muttered, “For a lawless zone, it seems there’s some semblance of order here.”

Alius chuckled softly. “They say the residents here take care of security themselves.”

“What?” Serati blinked in confusion, unable to understand what he meant.

At that moment, a scruffy boy suddenly darted out of the crowd, slashing the strap of a woman’s basket with a quick swipe of his knife and snatching it away in one swift motion.

“Got it!”

The boy bolted like the wind, his movements practiced and efficient.

“Pickpocketing?” Riltaine said.

“In such a crowded place?” Serati exclaimed, astonished.

In contrast, neither Karnak nor Varos seemed remotely surprised.

The security of the city’s supposed to be nonexistent.

Why would it matter if it’s crowded or not?

The reactions of the bystanders were even more striking. No one moved to help or even showed concern. Most simply observed with mild curiosity. But what happened next defied even Karnak and Varos’s expectations.

“Oh my,” the woman who had been robbed showed no sign of panic.

Instead, she calmly reached into her coat, pulled out a wickedly sharp dagger, and hurled it with practiced precision.

Whoosh!

Thunk!

The blade buried itself in the boy’s thigh. Blood spurted as he collapsed with a scream.

“Aaaah!”

The woman, completely unhurried, walked up to the boy and retrieved her basket first.

“Tch, I’ll have to fix the handle now,” she muttered, as if annoyed by the inconvenience.

She then yanked the dagger out of the boy’s leg, paying no mind to the blood spurting onto her hands. Without a second glance, she turned and walked away as if nothing had happened. No anger. No curses. Just calm indifference.

“Argh... Arghhh...” the boy groaned in pain, clutching his leg.

Meanwhile, passersby threw out casual remarks as they walked past him.

“Tsk tsk, with skills like that, you were bound to fail.”

“Better go back to begging, kid.”

Despite the boy lying there bleeding, not a single person stepped forward to help. Karnak’s group was left speechless.

“What... what is this?”

“What’s wrong with this neighbourhood?”

Serati, visibly distressed, turned to Alius.

“What should we do, Alius? If we leave him like this—”

By chance, or perhaps thanks to the woman’s precision, the boy’s injury had avoided major blood vessels. He wasn’t in immediate danger of dying, but leaving him in such a state felt wrong. Surely a priest like Alius couldn’t simply ignore this?

Alius, however, merely shrugged.

“I told you. The security here is self-managed.”

True to his words, three children emerged from a nearby alley and rushed to the boy’s side. Dressed in ragged clothes, they approached with practiced familiarity, quickly staunching the bleeding and wrapping his wound in makeshift bandages. Even in this moment, their chatter was absurdly casual.

“See, Cain, I told you pickpocketing is dangerous!”

“Let’s just stick to selling our bodies. It’s honest earning.”

With that, they hoisted the boy up and scurried back into the alley as quickly as they had appeared. The entire sequence of events played out in mere minutes. The only things left were the merchants calling out to customers and the passersby casually going about their business, as though nothing unusual had happened.

“Fresh rattier meat for sale! Cheap!”

“We’ve got crisp, fresh turnips just in today!”

Riltaine let out a sigh as his eyes fell on the pool of blood still staining the ground.

“My goodness. I wondered why so many parts of the streets were discolored brown. Now I know...”

He felt uneasy at the thought of how carelessly he’d been walking across those stains. Karnak and Varos shared similarly reflective expressions.

“Well, it is indeed a place where people live, but...”

“The type of people who live here is different.”

The woman from earlier hadn’t shown any extraordinary skills. By the standards of someone formally trained in martial arts, her movements were amateurish at best. Yet the city’s entire sensibility, its unwritten rules, and the way its people lived were fundamentally alien. It wasn’t just her—this strange, unsettling atmosphere pervaded all of Trist City.

“There’s no need for me to give you additional warnings, I see,” Alius said, breaking the tension and steering the group’s focus.

“You’ve seen it for yourselves. This is Trist City.”

Karnak and his companions were undoubtedly strong. If a confrontation broke out, even Serati alone could probably take down dozens of common bandits without breaking a sweat.

“But don’t expect anyone here to be kind enough to confront you head-on,” Alius added grimly.