Karnak, Monarch of Death

The northern corridor of the grand cathedral, once beautifully adorned with marble, was now covered in horrific tendrils.

Malice seeped from every direction, countless venomous insects buzzed and squirmed, and hellish vines sprawled across the ground. For any human with living flesh, stepping into this place meant flirting with death itself.

Yet Karnak’s party advanced without hesitation. At the front, Leven swung his purple aura-forged sword. Vines that blocked their vision were swept away in a single stroke as if they were mere weeds. The venomous insects that swarmed in were easily destroyed by Lapicel.

Tascal Swordsmanship, Weaving the Net!

Brilliant sword light wove itself into a mesh of radiance, burning the insects to ash midair. The charred remains of the giant bugs fell in blackened heaps.

Lapicel appeared rather surprised as she sheathed her sword. ”This is easier than I expected.”

Leven wore a similar expression. ”Yeah, the gaps are just too obvious.”

The domains were protecting the heart of enemy territory, the seal chamber, but they was surprisingly simply woven. A mere sweep with their sensing techniques revealed its weaknesses. A single targeted strike was enough to open a path.

”Could this be a trap?”

Seeing Leven on guard, Serati let out a small laugh. ”It’s probably not.”

The domains they faced were by no means weak. In fact, they were among the strongest necromantic domains they had ever encountered. It was simply that the talents of those two prodigies, Leven and Lapicel, had grown too immense.

Serati had a slightly different stance than them. Gaps? What gaps? I don’t see a single one.

Through countless battles, their talents had fully blossomed. Both were almost certain to reach the level of a silver knight soon, unlike Serati, who remained at the blue-tier.

Well, what can I do? I just need to do what I can.

Shaking her head, she stepped forward and stomped her foot against the marble floor. The temple shook and twisted as if an earthquake had struck. The domains screamed as they were torn apart.

Serati had her own methods of dealing with such things. Gaps? She couldn’t see them. But she was certain there were gaps somewhere within the domains. In that case, if she obliterated the entire domain, the gaps would be destroyed along with it.

Using her planted foot as a pivot, Serati launched a high kick. The slim leg of the beautiful warrior struck the temple wall. The entire wall was blown out, tearing away in one piece.

The wall flew, pillars shattered, and the ceiling collapsed. Dust clouds rose from every direction. The necromantic domain? Naturally, it was smashed to pieces.

Leven and Lapicel blinked in a daze.

”How does that even work?”

”Yeah, why does that even work?”

Serati had just crossed into the newly opened space when a cold voice blocked their path. It was a familiar, yet unfamiliar voice. ”This is as far as you go, foolish heretics.”

A man in his fifties descended slowly before them, his robes billowing. It was Diogres Kolon, Master of the Tower of Dawn.

***

Diogres swept his gaze across Karnak’s party. Serati, Leven, and Lapicel stood at the front. Behind them were Drel, Dios, Karnak, Varos, and Milia.

”Tch, a bust.”

Clicking his tongue, he lightly waved Dawnshroud Staff. A vortex swept across, and the five figures behind vanished. The five had been illusions. Only the three at the front were real.

Serati looked at the middle-aged man with a troubled expression. Master Diogres...

She knew well that the true Diogres was the boy by her side. Yet, no matter what, the Diogres she remembered was the man standing before her now. To see him, changed into someone completely different, standing in her way, was a strange feeling.

Of course, to this future Diogres, Serati’s memories meant nothing, and she was nothing but a stranger to him. With an indifferent face, Diogres glanced toward another part of the cathedral.”It seems the real one is in a different direction.”

However, having come this far, he could not simply ignore the enemies before him and leave. It was unlikely they would let him pass easily, and even if this was not Karnak, they might still have the power to break the seal and unleash the Shadow of Doom.

The best outcome would have been to swiftly kill them and move on to hunt down the others.”But it won’t be that easy.”

Diogres glanced over Leven, Lapicel, and Serati in turn, a smirk tugging at his lips. At best, there were two at the purple-tier, and one who was merely at the blue-tier.

Logically, for forces of that level to dare stand against an archmage? They would be sent to the afterlife in a matter of minutes. But these were not ordinary foes.

Leven Strauss and Lapicel Crotium were prodigies who, in their destined future, would become martial kings. Both of them, despite the color of their aura, were essentially already silver knights. Their talent and skill were so exceptional for their age that they surpassed common sense.

And as for that woman with blue-tier, I can’t read her at all.’

Even with his mastery of extreme magic, he could not get a sense of her strength, whether she was weak or strong. Everything about her was entirely elusive. Of course, the idea that he might lose never crossed his mind, but whether he could defeat them swiftly was another matter entirely.

”Tch. I’ll have to leave the Evil-Slaying Mage to the others.”

Since it had come to this, the best course was to deal with these foes thoroughly, eliminating any future threats. A storm of magical power began to swirl around Diogres’ entire body. ”Die here.”

Leven and Lapicel, their bodies cloaked in aura, lunged forward simultaneously.

***

The archmage’s staff, the Golden Branch, swept through the air. A storm of magical force tore through Karnak’s party. Of the eight companions, five vanished. Only a man in his thirties, a young boy whose gender was difficult to determine, and a teenage girl in priestly robes remained.

They were Drel, Dios, and Milia.

The blue-haired elf clicked his tongue as he lowered his staff. ”Tch, so the Evil-Slaying Mage isn’t here.”

—How is it on your end, Diogres?

Thanks to having extended their communication range beforehand, the message reached even over the long distance. A reply soon came.

—He’s not here either.

—Same here. It must be on Sir Emil’s end, then.

Drel, staring at Giyen Ren, let out a helpless sigh. He had always looked up to the three archmages, four martial kings, and the seven popes. They were powerful figures who held influence over the world. They had always been objects of distant admiration for the young Dreltein.

And yet, one of them now stood before him as an enemy.

—To think I’d meet one of the great three archmages in a situation like this...

Dios shot him a look.

—You’ve got one of those great archmages right next to you, you know.

Though, being trapped in the body of a child and barely managing to move was a problem.

—Besides, haven’t you reached the height of the martial kings yourself?

—That wasn’t really me who reached that level. Well, I suppose technically it was me, but...

It was a title of martial king achieved by a future self who had come to take his place, so it never truly felt real. No matter what the future held, the present Drel was still just a silver knight.

Drawing in divine power, Milia chided them both.

—You two, what are you doing chatting before a battle?

It was absurd. They were supposed to be a martial king and an archmage, but they were distracted like fledglings before a fight. Then she quickly came to a realization.

No, that’s not it.

Even while exchanging messages, neither of their auras or magical forces wavered in the slightest. They were so seasoned that allowing themselves a brief moment of distraction actually helped maintain the optimal tension before battle.

Giyen Ren, too, was observing Drel and Dios intently. They’re certainly not ordinary.

In particular, the black-haired boy caught his attention. That silver knight in his early thirties certainly possessed remarkable skill, but it was still within the bounds of reason. After all, most martial kings in history had been at about that level at that age.

Similar to Gellard in his youth, perhaps?

Typical of an elf who had lived for hundreds of years, Giyen Ren found himself comparing the young Dreltein to Gellard, who was at least closer to him in age, rather than the much younger Beltia.

In any case, that silver-sword knight was not especially surprising. But that boy was different. Just what is that child?

A faint, yet unmistakably powerful magical energy radiated from his entire being. It was not a power a child should possess. Not even those known as archmages had such power at that age.

Well, that could simply be chalked up to Karnak having done something again. The problem was that the boy’s ability to wield that power was even more astounding.

He handled mana as naturally as breathing. Judging purely by his mastery of control, he seemed almost on par with an archmage. It was something that should have been impossible.

Giyen Ren leveled the Golden Branch. ”I don’t know what trick you’ve pulled, but it won’t change the outcome.”

Light and darkness began to swirl together at the tip of the staff.

***

At the far end of the long, straight corridor, through the shadows, a young knight clad in heavy armor stepped forward. It was a familiar face, yet Karnak tilted his head slightly. ”Should I call him Emil Strauss... or what?”

Varos shrugged beside him. ”He looks like a different person every time we see him.”

They had encountered Emil Strauss himself on several occasions. In his previous life, Karnak had fought fiercely against him as a rising necromancer, ultimately managing to kill him with great difficulty.

After Karnak’s regression, they had faced him again when the soul of future Leven had possessed that body. And now, Leven had returned as the avatar of Tesranach, a shard of a torn soul made manifest once more.

A thought crossed Karnak’s mind. Who did that young man standing before them consider himself to be? Tesranach? Emil Strauss? Or perhaps neither, but someone entirely different?

The young man’s expression suggested he did not care. ”Only the two of you?”

Emil glanced around Karnak’s group and snapped his fingers. A sudden burst of blinding light engulfed the party. All six remaining figures, except for Karnak and Varos, vanished without a trace.

”How unexpected. I thought you’d bring more.”

Drawing his wand and aiming it lazily, Karnak replied in a bored tone. ”We have our reasons too.”

If imperial knight captain Chaplin or Destran of Search Black had joined them, the battle would have been far more favorable. But that was impossible.

Chaplin had to command the imperial army, and Destran had to lead the Twilight Order. If the defense of the six pillars collapsed due to their absence as commanders, everything would fall apart.

”I’ll admit, I’m surprised too. I honestly thought Batalok would be the one standing here.”

Karnak had expected the Martial King Batalok, along with archmages Giyen Ren and Diogres Kolon, to block their way while Emil Strauss remained behind to guard the seal. He had never imagined that the one known as Tesranach’s avatar would personally appear.

A wide smile spread across Emil’s lips. ”We have our reasons too.”

Mimicking Karnak’s phrasing, he drew the longsword at his waist. ”But you won’t find this body lacking.”

His next words wiped the color from both of their faces. ”Karnak Zestrad, the Monarch of Death of the past.”