Karnak, Monarch of Death

After his regression through time and space, Varos had struggled immensely with awakening his aura. It wasn’t merely because he lacked experience in awakening it.

It might have been easier for him to start from scratch. After all, his mind was still brimming with countless martial techniques from his past life. But such techniques were no use to him right now.

The problem lay in his fundamentally flawed habits. He had always relied on the strength of others, wielding borrowed aura instead of his own. His soul, twisted and altered by years of such dependency, had become incompatible with conventional methods of awakening.

Though his aura techniques mirrored those of an aura user, the way he accumulated and processed energy resembled a necromancer’s methods far more closely. In his state of corruption, he needed a novel method of awakening aura, but none of the martial manuals he had studied could provide a solution.

This was precisely what Varos had warned Karnak about in the past. If he walked a path different from others, he would face problems—problems he had to figure out on his own.

”But as it turns out,” Varos muttered, his gaze settling on the fallen Lapicel, ”there was someone right in front of me who had already walked that path.”

Having been freed from the cursed influence of the demonic sword, Lapicel had mastered the impossible. She had converted the sword’s dark aura into her own aura. In other words, she had transformed the sensation of wielding another’s power into that of commanding her own. And that was exactly the approach Varos had been seeking.

”Wait, can you really mimic something like that after just watching it once?” Serati asked him.

”Hey, I may not look it now, but I was kind of a big deal back in the day,” Varos replied with a shrug. ”I might not compare in terms of experience or finesse, but I can grasp the core concept to a degree.”

An aura user of with a certain degree of mastery could replicate the techniques of others after mere observation. The same went without saying for someone on the level of the Martial Kings. Of course, as Varos said, his mastery and precision of the technique was still lacking, but what was more important was that he had grasped it. Now that he had a grasp, all that was left to do was to train and practice.

Varos clicked his tongue as he glanced down at Lapicel. ”Once you understand the principle, it’s not that difficult. But why couldn’t I think of it before? Is this the difference between a genius and an ordinary person?”

Karnak nodded. ”Well, it worked out in the end. So what’s your skill at right now?”

”Somewhere around here,” Varos said, holding up his index finger. A faint red aura flickered on the tip before vanishing.

Karnak frowned. ”That’s it? You’re not even a blue knight?”

”Well, if I really push myself, I probably could.”

The aura flared again, this time a brilliant blue, only to quickly fade back to red.

”Ah, but it only lasts for a moment. I’ll just have to work at it,” Varos admitted.

Serati crossed her arms and grumbled, as if she found it incomprehensible. ”So, tell me. How does pushing yourself enhance your aura? How is that even possible?”

”It’s not something I can explain in words,” Varos replied.

If Serati’s own abilities advanced, she’d naturally understand. If they didn’t, no explanation would suffice.

With a tired sigh, he let his aura dissipate entirely and continued, ”Still, I have an edge over Sir Lapicel in this aspect. She’s completely drained.”

Technically, neither of them had truly awakened their own aura. It had been converted from the dark aura of the demonic sword. The difference was that Varos had managed to store a portion of it for himself, thanks to the nature of his container.

If Lapicel’s container was like a delicate, elegant crystal goblet, Varos’ was more akin to a sturdy clay pot. It was thick, clumsy, and unsophisticated, but durable and stable.

”I’ll use this as a foundation and build from here,” he murmured, before pausing to scan the area.

Night had fallen, blanketing the surroundings in deep darkness. Strewn across the ground were the unconscious members of the King’s Order, still unresponsive.

Varos scratched his head awkwardly and asked, ”By the way... what do we do about them?”

***

Karnak’s group returned to their previous campsite after leaving the basin. They carefully laid Lapicel down inside one of the tents. Serati suggested they bind her just in case, but both Karnak and Varos disagreed.

”If my necromancy worked as intended, all her memories should be sealed. Even if we don’t bind her, she won’t be able to use that kind of power again,” Karnak reasoned.

”And if young master’s necromancy didn’t work, she’ll go berserk like before. But in that case, what could we possibly use to restrain her? Even iron chains wouldn’t hold,” Varos added.

Since there wasn’t much difference either way, it seemed better to let her rest comfortably.

”At least this way, we might earn some goodwill when she wakes up,” Karnak said.

After tucking Lapicel into a sleeping bag, they turned their attention to the fallen King’s Order members. Karnak used telekinesis magic to lift several of them and motioned toward the tents.

”Let’s lay them down properly inside as well,” he said.

Varos hoisted another soldier onto his shoulder and followed suit.

”Leaving them out here might give them a cold,” Varos noted.

Karnak smirked. ”Look at us, caring about other people’s health!”

”Feels like I’m turning into a model citizen!” Varos quipped.

Watching the two banter, Serati rolled her eyes.

”Truly commendable of you both,” she muttered dryly.

She too worked diligently to carry the soldiers. After a while, however, she paused with a frown. ”Why haven’t any of them woken up yet?”

It had been quite a while since they’d fallen unconscious.

”Are you sure they’re just knocked out? What if something’s seriously wrong?”

Karnak and Varos responded as if it were obvious.

”You thought we were joking when we said anesthetized earlier?”

”This is literally anesthesia,” Varos added.

As it turned out, Lapicel hadn’t merely struck them hard enough to knock them out.

”She used pinpointed threads of aura to infiltrate their nervous systems and paralyze them,” Varos explained.

Serati blinked, bewildered. It sounded absurd.

”Wait, is that something a human can even do?”

”I can do it too, actually,” Varos admitted.

Apparently, the other three Martial Kings could also replicate the technique. The process required first sensing the opponent’s body condition, determining the flow of their internal energy, calculating the appropriate amount of aura to use, gauging the strength of their neural pathways, and then—at the exact moment of contact—injecting precisely the right amount of aura into the exact location.

”That’s how it’s done,” Varos concluded.

Serati stared blankly before retorting, ”But it sounds to me like that would only work if the target is lying perfectly still.”

Even the slightest movement would render all those variables meaningless. How could anyone perform such a feat in the middle of combat?

”That’s why Sir Lapicel was the only one who actually used it in real battles,” Varos admitted. ”Not that you need to go that far. Breaking someone’s arms and legs works just as well to stop them from moving.”

”Then why did she bother with something so complicated?”

Karnak answered for him. ”Because simply breaking their limbs wouldn’t stop humans under mind control.”

Humans under necromantic control were similar to zombies. Even with broken bodies, they’d force their limbs to move. Lapicel’s method was a godly technique carefully developed to safely neutralize such individuals without causing irreversible harm.

”So this is your fault again, Sir Karnak?” Serati said, exasperated.

”More or less. Looking back, I do feel a little bad about it,” Karnak replied.

”A little bad? That’s it?”

While chattering away, they finally finished moving all the King’s Order members into the tents.

Serati looked at the sleeping figures and asked, ”So, how do we wake them up?”

”If we remove the aura embedded in their systems, they’ll wake up,” Karnak replied, glancing at Varos. ”But do we really need to?”

”Let’s just let them rest. Honestly, it’ll probably be good for them,” Varos answered him.

The soldiers were already exhausted, so letting them sleep until morning would likely help them recover better. They also retrieved the demonic sword, Mareda. Varos examined it, turning it over in his hands.

”It’s not a demonic sword anymore,” he remarked.

The ominous energy that used to seep from the blade had vanished completely, the spirit inhabiting the sword having fled.

”What do we do about this? Won’t people find it suspicious?” Serati asked.

”Yeah, it is suspiciously clean,” Varos admitted.

The solution wasn’t complicated. If it was too clean, they just had to make it dirty again. Conveniently, this was something Karnak excelled at.

”I can’t restore its original powers, but I can make it look like a demonic sword with all its strength depleted,” he said confidently.

Karnak gathered residual malice from the surroundings and coated the blade with it.

”Think of it as the difference between regular water and flat soda,” he explained.

Serati tilted her head. ”Isn’t flat soda just regular water?”

”You’d be surprised. There’s a difference when you taste it,” Karnak retorted.

With that, the cleanup was done. The group gathered around a campfire outside the tents.

”Now we just wait for everyone to wake up naturally,” Karnak said.

Serati glanced up at the stars to estimate the time.

”What do we do in the meantime?” she asked him. There were still hours before dawn.

Varos’s eyes gleamed. ”Let’s eat!”

Serati clicked her tongue in disbelief. ”Do you ever think about anything other than food?”

”Food is meant to be thought about constantly,” Karnak replied confidently, already fetching utensils.

***

Unlike the heavily anesthetized members of the King’s Order, Lapicel had only fainted naturally. Unsurprisingly, she woke up first.

”Ugh,” she groaned softly, her eyes fluttering open.

The first thing she saw was three people looking down at her: a handsome man with black hair, a gentle-looking blond man, and an incredibly beautiful woman.

The handsome, black-haired man spoke first, his voice cautious yet kind. ”Are you awake?”

His tone sent an inexplicable flutter through her chest. Lapicel slowly sat up, her gaze locking onto him.

”Who are you?” she asked, her voice carrying the youthful innocence of a child.

Karnak couldn’t help but smirk.

”I was about to ask you the same thing,” he replied before turning the question back on her. ”Who are you?”

Who am I? Who was she?

Lapicel blinked a few times, confusion clouding her face. ”I don’t know.”

”You don’t know?” Karnak pressed.

”Yeah, I don’t remember,” she replied.

”Not anything at all?”

”Mm-hmm. Nothing.”

Karnak felt a wave of relief wash over him.

Thank goodness, the memory seal worked.

Her memories were gone, and the aura she had absorbed from the demonic sword was completely depleted. She had reverted to being an ordinary girl of this era. She no longer posed any danger.

”In that case, you probably don’t remember your name either. Without a name, it’ll be hard to address you...”

Just as Karnak was about to suggest a temporary name, the girl spoke. ”Lapicel.”

”Hmm?”

”I was called Lapicel. I remember that much.”

Karnak forced himself to stay calm as his mind raced.

Why does she remember her name? Is it because a name is tied to one’s core identity?

Or, worse, could it mean that the seal hadn’t been completely effective? Either way, it warranted further investigation.

”Well, that’s fortunate. At least you remember your name...”

Before he could continue, he noticed Lapicel staring at him, her gaze intense and unwavering.

”Why are you looking at me like that?” he questioned her.

For a long moment, she said nothing, her eyes fixed on him. Then, cautiously, she opened her mouth. ”Do you know me?”

”What?”

Her gray eyes sparkled with an odd glimmer. ”I feel like I know you.”