Karnak, Monarch of Death

The pitch-black golem took heavy steps forward with a radiant blue blade in hand.

Gritting her teeth, Serati sprang forward. ”This is ridiculous!”

She positioned herself in a proper stance and delivered a powerful downward slash. Her blue aura blade burned brilliantly against the darkness. Unfortunately, it was blocked by the golem’s own blue blade.

The impact sent her skidding backward, her expression momentarily blank with shock. It wasn’t just mimicking her strength. Even the stance was identical, like a reflection in a mirror.

Did it really copy my technique? Necromancy can do that?!

The necromancer who had summoned the golem let out a triumphant laugh. ”I accept your aura blade! Hahaha!”

The golem pressed its attack. Again and again, it replicated her techniques with the exact same force and precision. To be precise, it wasn’t exactly the same. With every clash of blue aura, the golem’s blade grew larger.

”Go on, keep wasting your aura! I’ll absorb it all and turn it into my own power!”

Unfortunately for the gloating necromancer, Serati didn’t understand a word of it. ”I keep telling you. I don’t know what the hell you’re saying!”

Still, she could grasp the situation just fine.

So I can’t attack carelessly?

Hesitation crept into her movements, and the golem pressed its advantage. Its blade flashed relentlessly, aiming for her vital points. Just as the sharp aura closed in on her shoulder, a fierce battle cry rang out from behind.

”Take this!”

A red aura blade slammed into the golem’s left side, halting its movements for an instant. It was Lapicel. She had found an opening and struck decisively.

”Lapicel?” Serati turned to stop her. ”Don’t attack recklessly! That thing absorbs aura!”

Sure enough, as the golem recovered, a red aura blade ignited in its left hand. It was a perfect replica of Lapicel’s sword.

”See?! If we keep attacking, it’ll just...”

”No, it won’t!” Lapicel cut her off. ”It’s a trick! It’s just a necromantic illusion imitating the shape, nothing more!”

”What?”

”Absorbing aura every time it gets hit? If he really had such an incredible ability, why would he still be somebody’s minion?” Her sharp eyes narrowed. ”This is just a bluff to make us hesitate. Necromancers pull this kind of stunt all the time.”

Serati snapped back to reality. Lapicel was right. ”Yeah. If he were really that powerful, there’s no way he’d still be some third-rate nobody.”

Of course, the necromancer controlling the golem wasn’t exactly a lowly subordinate. He was a direct follower of Jedex, one of the Three Saints of the Black God’s Cult. He was ranked higher than any cultist they had faced before.

So by all logic, he should have been furious at Serati’s mockery. However... ”What the hell is she saying?”

He, too, didn’t understand a word of Isola. Without another word, Serati launched forward once more, with Lapicel right behind her. The two darted around the golem, moving swiftly from left to right, exchanging attacks with relentless speed. Red and blue aura blades carved streaks of light through the air.

The golem retaliated, mirroring their colors and techniques. Aura blade clashed against aura blade, power against power. At a glance, it seemed like the same stalemate as before. But this time, Serati’s approach was different.

Absorb it? Fine, go ahead. I’ll just keep cutting.

No matter what the golem did, she ignored it, focusing only on her unrelenting offensive.

The necromancer’s face twisted in frustration. ”Damn it... They figured it out...!”

Sure enough, the golem’s aura blade began shrinking. At first, it had pretended to absorb power and grow stronger, but it had limits. Serati and Lapicel weren’t the type to miss an opportunity like this.

Their voices rang out in unison.

”Haaaaah!”

”Take this!”

Their twin aura blades crossed, tearing through the golem, and ultimately shattering it into four pieces. The golem crumbled with a deafening crash.

The necromancer scowled and demanded, ”How did you know? This is a secret spell, a secret technique known to barely a handful even among our faithful...”

Serati, who didn’t understand the language of Ralphon, simply ignored him and raised her sword. But Lapicel understood perfectly.

How did I know?

For a moment, her heart plummeted. Right... how did she know? How could a girl, barely in her mid-teens, born a mere serf in the Empire, speak so naturally of necromantic arts, as though it were common knowledge?

Who... who am I really...?

Suddenly, a faint echo rippled through her mind. It felt so fragile it was almost like an illusion.

—Lady Lapicel, please save us!

—Save us, Lady Lapicel!

It was the same voice she had heard earlier in that strange vision.

***

Ash-gray powder drifted mournfully across the night sky, blanketing the plaza. The burning horde of demons and the citizen militia stood at a tense standoff, weapons drawn, separated by only a breath of distance.

Spears and swords aimed at one another, both sides watched the battle unfolding in the center of the plaza. The necromancers were skillfully pressing Varos and Leven into a corner.

Four specters soared through the air, lashing out with jet-black claws. Shadowy blades slashed and spun, their massive bodies flitting through the air like feathers. But Varos and Leven held their ground.

At every critical moment, they slipped away with perfect timing and delivered sharp, decisive counterattacks. Black, crimson, and blue auras flared through the square, swirling violently. The raging storm winds shattered everything in their path.

The sheer force of the battle was enough to kill anyone caught in its wake, and not even the militia or the demons dared to approach recklessly.

”Offer your lives to Lord Tesranach!” The hulking dark knight brought down his blade in a vicious arc.

Parrying the incoming strike with composure, Varos frowned in thought. What now?

The enemy’s skill was certainly at the level of a blue knight, but the dark energy suffusing his strikes gave them power and speed akin to purple-tier.

This won’t be easy.

It wasn’t impossible, of course. If he pushed himself, he could forcibly raise his tier to purple.

But if I do that, I won’t be able to handle Jedex afterward...

They hadn’t even reached their true objective yet. Whether they hunted him down or he came to them, there was no way they would end things without facing Jedex directly.

But forcibly raising one’s level had side effects Not something catastrophic, but enough to matter. It would be accompanied by a slight misalignment of senses, as well as an intense wave of muscle pain afterward.

It was definitely enough to hinder him in a serious fight. If it were just mowing down weaker enemies, it wouldn’t be a problem. But against a true foe, it could become a critical weakness.

I was planning to hold out until young master stepped in...

But the necromancer controlling the specters turned out to be trickier than expected.

”Go, wraith of the dark!” Staying safely in the rear, he continued to send specters forward with infuriating confidence.

Individually, a specter wasn’t a huge threat. But in the middle of a chaotic melee with dark knights, their relentless harassment from behind was chipping away at Varos’s concentration.

Ah, seriously. Maybe I should just end this here and now...?

While Varos wrestled with indecision, the dark knight battling Leven sneered. ”Tch! Your aura is pitiful, but your swordsmanship is not too shabby!”

From earlier, the knight had overwhelmed Leven with sheer aura force, yet couldn’t land a decisive blow due to Leven’s sharp technique. It made sense. Leven had ample experience fighting opponents with stronger aura but less refined swordsmanship. Serati herself was exactly that type.

Leven snorted. ”It’s not that I’m impressive. Your swordsmanship just lacks foundation!”

The dark knight flared up. ”My swordsmanship lacks foundation?!”

It was true. Like most adventurers, he had pieced together techniques from various schools as he rose to become an aura user. Which, in flattering terms, made his style diverse, but in blunt terms, made it messy.

And no one gets more defensive than when the truth is pointed out. ”I’ll show you the might of true swordsmanship!”

The dark knight gripped his longsword tightly with both hands and leveled it at his opponent.

Leven’s eyes went wide. ”Wait, that’s...!”

It was a signature opening stance from a rather famous sword style.

”Heh heh heh heh.” With a triumphant smile, the dark knight declared, ”Behold! The Delphiad swordsmanship! The secret sword art of Martial King Gallard!”

Even Varos, who had been observing from a distance, wore an odd expression. Uh, so...

Was he really about to demonstrate Delphiad Swordsmanship in front of Leven Strauss? A man born as the son of Martial King Gallard himself, who had spent his entire life mastering that very art?

”Well, then.” And sure enough, a few moments later. ”I’ll join you!”

Leven, flicking the blood off his blade, came running toward Varos. As for the dark knight who had so boldly proclaimed his mastery of Delphiad Swordsmanship?

His head had been cleanly severed and now rolled along the ground. Of all things, he had chosen to brandish that very style before its original practitioner and had paid the ultimate price in a single, decisive counter.

Tsk, tsk, Varos thought. Had he just stuck with his usual technique, he wouldn’t have gone down so easily.

Even as an enemy, the sight was pitiful.

”Lucas!” Another dark knight let out a furious roar at the death of his comrade. ”I’ll make sure you die the most miserable death imaginable, you cursed scum!”

Facing his enraged opponent, Varos wore a carefree smile. Yeah, I’m glad I didn’t push myself too hard.

***

You could tell the strength of a leader by the skills of their subordinates. And Waraine, without question, was an exceptionally powerful necromancer.

”Rise, children of the Abyss!” Countless vengeful spirits flooded the air.

”Engulf all! Authority of the Abyss!” Grotesque tentacles spread across the earth like a dark tide.

”Kneel before the death of all things!”

With every gesture, with every cry, a barrage of precise and devastating necromantic spells erupted forth. He was undoubtedly a high-ranking figure within the Cult of the Black God. But Karnak kept his cool as he parried the onslaught of Waraine’s spells. He calmly analyzed the situation.

No matter how impressive his necromancy was, blocking it wasn’t especially difficult.

After all, Karnak knew the mechanics inside and out. But disrupting it was a different matter entirely.

Someone’s layered anti-dispel techniques on top of the spellwork...

And these weren’t just any spells. They had been crafted with intimate knowledge of Karnak’s own techniques. They specifically countered the kind of interference he used to rely on. Karnak could no longer disrupt Waraine’s necromancy with the sloppy technique of covering it up with a low-tier domain.

It doesn’t look like it’s been used on all of his necromancy though.

From what he could tell, the anti-dispel enchantments only applied to necromancy Waraine cast directly. They hadn’t covered ambient necromantic domains.

Well, if they had figured that part out, they wouldn’t have needed to start a fire in the first place.

Regardless, whoever had engineered this had a remarkably deep understanding of necromantic arts. They were clearly far beyond someone like Waraine. Even Jedex or Elezar wouldn’t have been capable of this.

Karnak decided to test his suspicion with a casual comment. ”So Tesranach really is the god of death now, huh? Stopping Redeemer of Necromancy like this is rather impressive.”

Waraine’s face lit up with fanatical pride. ”Only now do you recognize his greatness? Unfortunately for you, it’s far too late for begging!”

That was all the confirmation Karnak needed. Yup. Definitely Tesranach’s handiwork.

Just the mention of the name had Waraine snapping to defend it like the devout zealot he was.

Perfect timing. A wicked grin crept across Karnak’s face. Might as well squeeze some more intel out of him while I’m at it.