Karnak, Monarch of Death

As Karnak examined his mana, a faint smile played on his lips. Not long ago, he had possessed magic power equivalent to a fourth-circle mage. Yet, in such a short time, he had elevated it to the sixth circle. It was all thanks to a change in his methods.

Previously, he had prioritized safety, refining pure necromantic energy to 100% purity before converting it into chaos mana. Now, he lowered the purity slightly, which caused a drastic amplification in his mana output instead.

The residual malice and death energy? He cleverly coated them with the chaos mana, like sugar glazing a bitter pill to mask their presence. From an external perspective, it would still appear as ordinary mana, leaving no risk of his true nature being exposed. Even so, Varos remained uneasy.

”Seriously, are you sure you should be doing something so dangerous?”

There was a reason Karnak hadn’t employed this method before.

”You’re exceeding what chaos magic can safely process, aren’t you?”

When Karnak had first returned to the past, he had avoided malice and death energy as much as possible, focusing solely on converting all necrotic power into chaos mana. It was akin to someone choosing only the healthiest foods and eating in moderation to maintain their well-being.

But as the situation grew more precarious, he had started slightly increasing his intake of necrotic power. This was more like overeating to gain weight, aiming to bulk up for greater strength—much like how a body’s muscle growth benefits from a certain level of body fat. It resulted in gaining some fat, sure, but the added muscle made it worth the trade-off.

What he was doing now, however, was akin to binge-eating to the point of indigestion. He was forcefully gaining weight with no regard for his body’s limits. In the short term, it might be manageable, but if pushed too far, it would lead to irreversible obesity.

And in the context of necromancy, this severe obesity translated to becoming undead. Once past the point of no return, full undeath was inevitable. Of course, he could always stop before reaching that threshold. Karnak assured them he had no intention of crossing that line.

Yet...

”In your previous life, you said the same thing and look what happened! You ended up as a skeleton!”

”Didn’t I just say?”

Karnak scowled.

“This isn’t the time to hold back anymore?”

***

During the battle in Trist City against Bishop Straph, Karnak hadn’t been overly alarmed. He had prepared for the possibility of an unexpected challenge but treated it as a precaution rather than a major concern.

But after encountering Durald, he realized the situation was far worse than he had anticipated. As they returned to the capital following the resolution of the Brellant affair, Karnak explained the problem to Varos and Serati.

”You’ve noticed the common thread between Straph and Durald, haven’t you?”

Bishop Straph, a former priest, had retained his divine powers despite becoming a necromancer. Similarly, Durald, a former aura user, had retained his aura despite turning into a vampire.

”Well, yeah, we noticed...” Varos tilted his head. ”But is that really such a big deal?”

Straph, as a necromancer, hardly used his divine powers. His necromancy was overwhelmingly powerful on its own, rendering the remnants of his holy strength negligible. Serati wore a similarly puzzled expression.

”Sir Durald was certainly formidable, but it wasn’t an insurmountable issue, was it?”

He had certainly been strong, retaining his aura even after gaining physical prowess as a vampire. But in the end, he had still fallen to Serati. Gaining dark powers didn’t necessarily make someone invincible.

”Considering I barely won, maybe I’m not the best person to say this... but is this really something to be this worried about?”

With all the other crises unfolding—the Shadow of Doom, the enigmatic god of destruction—this issue felt minor by comparison.

Karnak nodded.

”Yes, Durald himself isn’t a problem. Nor was Bishop Straph.”

But then his expression turned grave.

”The real issue is the fact that they retained their divine powers and aura at all.”

In this world, different forces did not mix. Aura, mana, divine power, and necrotic energy—mastery of one required forsaking the others. This was the universal truth, the fundamental rule.

”But that truth has been shattered. With the Shadow of Doom, a mage can learn necromancy, and an aura user can join the ranks of darkness.”

Varos tilted his head again.

”Wasn’t that always possible?”

A mage who learned necromancy became an archlich, and an aura user who turned to darkness became a death knight.

”You’ve done them yourself, young master. Why does this bother you so much?”

”You still don’t get it.”

Karnak sighed and posed a sudden question.

”Have you ever wondered why there are so few necromancers in the world?”

Serati asked back as if the question didn’t even require thought. ”Considering all the vile acts you have to commit and the way the world shuns you, isn’t it stranger to think there’d be many who’d choose that path?”

”True, you’re not wrong. But...”

A cold smile spread across Karnak’s lips.

”Do you really think humanity is virtuous enough to forsake immortality and immense power just because it’s considered wicked and shunned by society?”

Necromancy offered power easily. It was far faster than conventional means. With it, one could grow stronger at an unparalleled pace. At its peak, it promised immortality, the healing of any physical ailment, and the realization of feats impossible under the laws of the divine. All it required was the abandonment of morality, ethics, and human decency.

”And yet, those who choose to become necromancers are exceedingly rare.”

Was it really because only a small number of people were wicked enough to tread that path? Was it truly because an aging mage on the brink of death, a warrior who’s lost the use of their sword hand, or a priest suffering from an incurable disease refused necromancy out of the purity and nobility of their souls?

”There’s a far more practical reason.”

In this world, forces of energy do not mix. This foundational truth served as the primary deterrent keeping the number of necromancers so low.

”Imagine an archmage who has reached the ultimate pinnacle of magic but now, in their old age, begins to fear death.”

Necromancy could grant them an extension of life. They could become a vampire or a necromancer and reclaim their youth. But the moment they do, they cease to be a archmage.

”Because they lose all the mana they’ve accumulated over their lifetime.”

They would become nothing more than a fledgling vampire, barely on par with a third-rate bounty hunter, or a weak necromancer who trembled before even a low-level priest.

”The same applies to aura users.”

Even the Four Great Martial Kings, who ruled the world with their blades, would lose all their power the moment they abandoned their aura for necromantic energy. They would become nothing more than necromancers who happened to know how to swing a sword. For an archmage to retain their power while achieving immortality, they would have to become an archlich.

Only by abandoning their living body and transforming into an existence where darkness flows through their veins instead of blood could they hope to barely maintain their previous level of power.

”And aura users can’t even maintain their level.”

The Martial Kings who had become death knights under Karnak in his past life were proof of that. Though they had retained their aura, converting it into dark aura, they paid the price by losing their sense of self. They became mindless puppets serving the Monarch of Death. How was that any different from death?

”For a true master, necromancy isn’t a particularly attractive choice. It demands the abandonment of everything they’ve built and starting from scratch.”

And that scratch didn’t just mean starting over as a novice. It meant living a cursed existence, shunned by all. They couldn’t even reclaim their original power. They could only live as a necromancer. All the experience they’ve accumulated became useless.

”It’s like offering an old man their youth in exchange for stripping them of all their wealth and connections, then tossing them into the slums.”

This was why necromancy had always been a weapon of the weak. It was a forbidden art pursued by those with nothing left to lose—those desperate enough to forsake humanity and morality in pursuit of their desires.

”In contrast, the privileged have never had much interest in the power of darkness. For those who already have power, it’s not worth the cost. It only brings chaos.”

But what if a way were to emerge that allowed them to wield necromancy without sacrificing their existing strength? What if, simply by abandoning their conscience, morals, and ethics, they could grow even stronger and achieve immortality?

”My gods...”

Varos’s face turned pale. For the first time, he truly grasped the implications of Karnak’s words.

”It means the powerful of this era could become our enemies.”

Until now, Karnak hadn’t considered the strong of this era as potential foes. In fact, he had seen them as reliable allies. After all, they had no reason to become necromancers. His only concerns had been those tied to the Shadow of Doom—opponents who, while dangerous, posed no real threat to someone with Karnak’s knowledge of necromancy.

”But if necromancy can now be combined with other forms of energy, all of no longer applies.”

As Straph’s case demonstrated, combining necrotic power with other energies produced strange and unpredictable phenomena beyond Karnak’s understanding. If priests, mages, and aura users could retain their original power while mastering necromancy, they could no longer be dismissed as easily managed threats.

”We’re now in a situation where any powerful figure could transform into a necromancer and emerge as a threat. Not that I think the Three Archmages or the Four Great Martial Kings would stoop to such levels...”

”But among the less principled elites, many would likely be drawn to necromancy,” Varos said, his voice grim. ”I see why you’re worried, young master.”

Serati, too, wore a look of understanding, her expression now somber.

”Now I understand why the Cult of the Black God has been able to expand its influence so much faster than other heretical groups.”

Karnak’s eyes gleamed sharply.

”Up until now, I thought being an adept mage was enough. But if this is the situation, the story changes.”

He needed to grow as powerful as possible. At the very least, he had to ensure he was strong enough to protect himself in even the worst scenarios.

Noticing his shift in tone, Serati hesitantly asked, ”What exactly is your standard for protecting yourself?”

Considering Karnak’s notoriously peculiar standards, she couldn’t help but worry.

”You’re not planning to revert to being the Monarch of Death, are you?”

Of course, Karnak had no intention of abandoning his human form.

”I plan to enhance my magic as much as possible while remaining human.”

”And what does as much as possible mean?”

”Beats me.” Karnak shrugged nonchalantly. “I’ve never walked this path before. How would I know where it’ll lead?”

***

News that Karnak had reached the sixth circle sent shockwaves through the entire King’s Order.

”Already?”

”Wasn’t he just at the cusp of the fourth circle a few months ago?”

His rapid advancement was staggering, almost incomprehensible. To prepare for the inevitable questions, Karnak had already come up with a plausible excuse:

I was self-taught, relying on a single spellbook from my family library. But once I arrived in the capital and joined the King’s Order, I had access to countless magical resources and wisdom. And wouldn’t you know it—my magical prowess soared!

In truth, the kingdom’s capital did house a magic guild library, and thanks to his position in the King’s Order, Karnak had significant access privileges. To lend credibility to his story, he even made a point of spending his free time at the library, burying himself in books, just in case anyone grew suspicious.

You never know if someone might suspect necromancy is involved, he thought.

But when the moment arrived, his concerns proved unfounded. No one suspected him of necromancy. Not a single person.

Why?

Because there was no precedent.

In this world, forces did not mix. Naturally, no one could imagine a mage using necromancy to amplify their magic. The only logical progression was for a mage to abandon magic altogether and become a more powerful necromancer.

While such anomalies were beginning to surface in recent events, they were still too new. Based on established beliefs, there was no reason to connect Karnak’s rapid progress with necromancy. And so, everyone judged him according to precedent.

”A prodigy blessed by the heavens!”

”He must have been held back by his isolation in the countryside until now.”

”At this rate, we might finally see an archmage emerge in our kingdom!”

”Truly a blessing for Eustil!”

Among those born with innate talent, it wasn’t unheard of to see such explosive growth in their youth. Usually, such prodigies either went on to become archmages or ended up as cautionary tales—a young genius is merely an old mediocrity.

”All that worrying for nothing, huh?”

Without issue, Karnak was recognized as a high-ranking mage. Moreover, he received an unexpected promotion. Erantel and the other leaders, impressed by Karnak’s talents, elevated his position. He was now the captain of the newly established 7th Squad of the King’s Order.

”You’ve been promoted, young master.”

”Not that I have any particular reason to celebrate over something like this now...”

Karnak smirked. Though not for the promotion itself.

”But I am glad. It’ll make dealing with heretics so much easier.”