Karnak, Monarch of Death

Ghostly soldiers moved through the eerie fog. They glided silently through the slums while letting out chilling groans and spreading a sinister darkness.

“Uuuuuuh...”

“Uuuuhhhh...”

Despite the haunting spectacle, there were no signs of people outside. It wasn’t because no one lived in the area.

“Oh, my goddess...”

“What in the world is that...?”

“Hey! Stay away from the window!”

The residents were cowering deep inside their homes, trembling with fear. And who could blame them? Two ominous figures in dark robes were marching through the streets, spreading a pale fog across the ground as they led an army of ghostly soldiers. No one in their right mind would even think of stepping outside.

Anyone brave enough to confront such a sight wouldn’t be living in a place like this slum in the first place. Thanks to this, Kayle and Olt were able to venture deeper into the slums without any resistance.

Olt scanned their surroundings before asking, “How do you think they’ll respond?”

With this much commotion, any necromancer worth their salt would surely sense the disturbance by now.

“That depends on their specialty,” Kayle replied.

According to the Crimson Flame Corps’ report, Prince Lloyd’s necromancer had initially used a swarm of zombies to pressure them before summoning evil spirits.

“It’s a classic technique,” Kayle said, though his tone was skeptical. “But there’s a good chance it’s an illusion, don’t you think?”

Manipulating zombies was the first thing that one thought of when it came to necromancy. Raising corpses to spread death and destruction practically screamed necromancy!

And it wasn’t just a stereotype either. It was actually one of the easiest necromantic spells to perform. Even the most basic necromancer could raise and control corpses. In fact, there were cases where individuals with no necromantic knowledge but a mere fragment of dark power could achieve it through sheer will alone.

One didn’t need knowledge to execute, it was easier with knowledge, required minimal effort, and delivered maximum efficiency. The problem was that the spell had a critical drawback, and Kayle was quick to point it out.

“There’s no way they could’ve gotten their hands on that many corpses in the capital.”

Zombie manipulation wasn’t about creating bodies. It was about animating existing ones. And it wasn’t as if one could carry corpses around at all times. Unless they were in a graveyard or a battlefield, zombie summoning was a largely impractical technique.

“They’re probably more skilled in handling spirits and soul summoning,” Kayle concluded.

“And the use of illusions suggests they’re not particularly powerful. If we face them head-on, they won’t stand a chance.”

“Which means they’ll likely be hiding somewhere, waiting for an opportunity to ambush us?” Olt asked.

“That would be the proper behavior of a necromancer,” Kayle replied with a smirk. He turned back toward their spectral army, the ghostly soldiers glowing with a cold, blue light.

“Go forth, my minions...”

With a wave of his hand, the ghosts began to scatter in all directions.

“By the command of darkness, seek out the enemies of your master!”

***

The ghostly horde moved through the night. Being souls, walls and roofs posed no obstacle to them. They passed through walls, rose from the ground, and descended from ceilings, effortlessly slipping between buildings. Although they weren’t causing any direct harm, their presence alone was terrifying to the residents in hiding. Whenever a ghostly soldier passed by, people clamped their hands over their mouths, trembling with fear.

“...!”

“Ah...”

From the shadows of a nearby alley, Serati watched the scene unfold with a grimace.

“Those vile bastards, dragging innocent residents into this...”

In contrast, Varos seemed oddly impressed. “For necromancers, they’re surprisingly kind!”

“Kind?” Serati repeated, stunned.

“They’re ignoring the residents, aren’t they?” Varos pointed out.

“Well, isn’t that obvious? The residents aren’t their enemies. There’s no need to harm them.”

“There is, actually,” Varos replied, a strange smile creeping across his lips. “For every person they kill, they gain another corpse to use.”

Serati was left speechless. The idea hadn’t even occurred to her.

“Are all necromancers like that?” she asked cautiously.

Varos tilted his head thoughtfully. “Now that I think about it... maybe it was just the young master?”

It wasn’t necessarily that these cultists were kind. Instead, it was that even the most depraved of villains rarely took their cruelty to such an extreme. That level of twisted ingenuity was reserved for the most rotten villains imaginable.

And yet, that rotten villain is the master of my soul. Ah, my cursed fate...

As if reading Serati’s thoughts from her expression, Varos offered an excuse on Karnak’s behalf. “The young master has improved a lot recently, hasn’t he?”

“The problem is that this is what improvement looks like!”

Meanwhile, the ghostly soldiers continued scouring the slums. They were gradually closing in on the location where their targets were hiding.

“It’s about time,” Varos said, gripping the mop in his hand with renewed determination. “Let’s move according to plan.”

***

Kayle suddenly raised his head. The spectral flame burning blue within the lantern had flickered for a moment.

“One of the lost souls has been taken out.”

It was the reaction they’d been waiting for.

Olt, growing tense, asked, “Where?”

“That way.”

After confirming the direction, Kayle ordered all the ghostly soldiers to converge at the location.

Go, my minions!

Once the ghostly forces were dispatched, the two necromancers began sprinting toward the scene themselves. Soon, they arrived at a small clearing between two crumbling buildings in the slums. The battlefield was already in chaos.

“Hup!”

With a sharp cry, a blond man swung his sword. One of the ghostly soldiers lunging toward him dissolved instantly, letting out a wail as it disintegrated.

“Kiiiiyaaaaah!”

The vanquished spirit faded away, and other rushed to attack. They slashed their translucent blades toward their target. But just before they could strike, a red-haired woman intercepted them.

“Ha!”

With a scoff, her longsword traced a graceful arc, shattering the spectral blades with ease. Each time she struck, the ghosts let out piercing shrieks.

“Aaaaargh!”

Despite being surrounded by swarms of ghostly soldiers, the pair remained utterly composed. There was no sign of them being overwhelmed. Every move they made was efficient, and they cut down the ethereal enemies with remarkable precision. The source of their dominance was the intense aura of darkness emanating from their swords. Watching the scene, Kayle’s expression turned peculiar.

“Are those two the necromancers working for Prince Lloyd?”

Olt shared a similar reaction.

“Something about them... feels off.”

At first glance, they looked like ordinary swordsmen. But there was no rule that necromancers had to wear black robes. Their appearance alone wasn’t enough to judge them.

Of course, Kayle and Olt were wearing black robes, but that was purely practical. Robes were ideal for carrying the many catalysts required for necromantic rituals. The color black was merely a thematic choice, aligning with the dark and deathly energy they wielded.

Even the impressive swordsmanship of their enemies was within the realm of possibility. Some necromancers specialized in enhancing their physical abilities, making them formidable in close combat.

“They’re using the power of darkness, so they’re probably necromancers...”

But there was something particularly unsettling.

Kayle tilted his head, confused.

“What’s with that thing?”

The blond man was holding a mop in his other hand as he slashed through the ghosts.

“And what about that?”

The red-haired woman was no different. While gracefully demonstrating one-handed swordsmanship, she was casually holding a frying pan in her other hand.

Olt blinked in disbelief. “Is... is this some kind of necromancy?”

“Well... maybe?”

If it were necromancy, surely some sort of sinister energy or miasma should be emanating from the items. But no matter how hard they looked, the objects appeared to be just a plain mop and a rusty frying pan.

And they weren’t even using them as weapons. They were simply holding them, which only served to limit their ability to use both hands in battle.

Why?

I can’t make sense of this.

Meanwhile, the ghostly soldiers continued to fall. Realizing they had no time to waste, Kayle and Olt shook themselves out of their stupor.

“We’ll deal with them first!”

With the bulk of the ghostly soldiers already pressuring the targets, there was no need to summon additional familiars. The two necromancers prepared to strike. Kayle spread his arms wide and drew on his necromantic energy.

“Arise, ye dead, and reach out with hands of chaos!”

Crimson shadows surged outward from him, rippling ominously as grotesque hands began to claw their way out of the ground. This was the necromantic domain known as the Sinking Mire of the Dead.

Huh?

Varos, who had been casually observing, suddenly froze.

If he can summon something like that, he’s on a whole different level.

This wasn’t the same as dealing with the usual low-level cultists.

Then again, if he’s managed to get close to a member of the royal family, he must be high-ranking within the cult.

Still, Varos didn’t feel the need to panic. This was far from the first time he had faced such techniques.

It’s been a while since I’ve had to dance.

He took a deep breath, preparing himself.

“Phew...”

Then, with a bizarre battle cry, Varos’s movements changed entirely. “Hup! Hup! Hoi!”

Up until that moment, his feet had been firmly planted, and he struck with precision. Now, he began moving lightly, almost as if he were dancing. Kayle and Olt’s faces twisted in confusion.

What the...?

It was as if Varos were mimicking the graceful steps of a ballerina. This burly man was prancing delicately between the hands of the dead, his movements so ridiculous they were almost painful to watch.

Yet, it was effective. He weaved effortlessly between the clawing hands, all the while continuing to slash apart ghostly soldiers.

“Graaahhhh!”

The deafening wails of the dissipating spirits echoed around them, making Kayle’s expression darken even further.

How is he destroying the Sinking Mire of the Dead so easily?

The red-haired woman, Serati, was no less problematic.

“Hyaaaa!”

With a spirited cry, she stomped down forcefully on the ground. Each time, the hands of the dead shattered under her feet, breaking apart into nothingness. Unlike Varos, who avoided the attacks with an almost ludicrous elegance, Serati was taking a much more direct approach—smashing through the hands with sheer brute force.

Bang!Boom!Boom!

Olt clicked his tongue.

“It’s like their roles are reversed...”

The hulking man—who looked as if he could beat a bear with his bare hands—danced daintily, as if afraid to so much as brush against the hands, while the petite, delicate-looking woman smashed them apart like she was playing a game of whack-a-mole.

Even so, the necromantic domain’s vast range meant that the pair was slowly being pushed back. As they retreated, Varos and Serati eventually stood back-to-back.

Phew

Finally, we’ve got them.

Kayle and Olt were just beginning to relax when the pair suddenly moved in unison. With loud, spirited cries, they flung their mop and frying pan high into the air.

“Hup!”

“Haah!”

Immediately afterward, they plunged their longswords into the ground. A geyser of darkness erupted and spread outward like a massive wave.

Whoooosh!

The crimson swamp was swept away without a trace, obliterated by the overwhelming surge of power. Freed from the necromantic domain, Varos and Serati reached up to catch their respective weapons as they fell back into their hands. Varos twirled his mop casually before flashing a mocking grin.

“You’ll need more than that to deal with us.”

Kayle’s expression hardened. The spell he’d been so confident in had been dismantled far too easily. But what frustrated him even more was the fact that he couldn’t understand how.

What kind of trick is this?!

No matter how much he drew on his knowledge of necromancy, he couldn’t figure out what connection the mop and frying pan had to any necromantic technique. As Kayle faltered, Olt stepped forward. He ripped off his robe and began channeling his necromantic energy.

“I’ll handle this!”

Horns and tentacles sprouted from his limbs as his body swelled to more than three times its original size.

“Power of hell, descend upon me and grant me the might of chaos!”

Olt’s form transformed into that of a demon, and an ear-splitting roar erupted from his monstrous maw.

“Graaaaaaaaahhhh!”