The Third Return of the Necrotic Magic Swordsman

Evan sat on the inn bed, his eyes sharper than before. 

Beside him, Drogmir hammered away at his armour, sparks flashing with each strike, but no sound came out from the formation.

But Evan’s mind wasn’t on the forging.

It was on the information his system had revealed.

A description he never expected to see in a place as barren as the Zeroth Expanse.

[⟪Eryndor Soulfruit⟫: A rare fruit shimmering with a dual hue of emerald green and azure blue, its surface rippling faintly as though infused with flowing light.

Birthed through a divine miracle, the fruit is said to have crossed into this universe from realms unknown. However, within this lower mana space, its original potency is greatly diminished compared to its true form.

Effect: Upon consumption, grants a random increase of up to +2 Red Stats across every attribute. Each attribute is separately rolled, making its outcome unpredictable and unique to each bearer. 

(Note: Though not recorded in ordinary archives, faint traces suggest this fruit nourishes the Soul’s stability when taken more than one, subtly aiding growth in latent soul power.)]

Evan’s pupils narrowed.

’This… shouldn’t even exist in a Tier 6 Expanse, let alone here. A fruit that nourishes the soul… priceless.’

His thoughts turned sharp.

If the system was right, then someone had brought these across universes.

”Sylen… and his main body,” Evan muttered.

”Those guys must be behind this. And that dragon bloodline too…”

He clenched the fruit tighter. There was only one way to confirm.

”Arven.”

The spirit appeared without sound.

”Do you know where these fruits came from? Why did you look so eager back then?” Evan asked.

Arven’s lips curved. ”Oh… you really are lucky, kid. These aren’t things you stumble upon in low realms. Even above Tier 6, they’re fought over like wars.”

His tone deepened, almost reverent.

”These fruits can push someone past a bottleneck and raise their very potential. But here… with mana this thin, their true might has collapsed. What you hold is just one percent of what they should be.”

”One percent…” Evan whispered.

Arven nodded. ”To grow properly, they need a Divine Garden. Mana so dense it becomes liquid. Countless treasures to nurture the seed. The flower alone can reach a hundred kilometers tall, birthing fruits at Mid-Divine grade. Ten at a time.”

His eyes flickered. ”Yours… barely produced three. The rest was wasted.”

Evan froze. The flower he saw had been massive, towering like a five-story building. And yet Arven was saying that it was nothing.

Gratitude filled him. To hold such a treasure in his hands—fortune beyond belief.

Carefully, he cradled the fruits like fragile jewels.

”So what should I do? Eat them now… or try to enhance them first?”

Arven folded his arms. ”Enhancing is possible. But the process… You won’t like it. Still, without trying, how will you know?”

Evan exhaled slowly. ”Alright then. Talent, show me the price to enchant these fruits to their peak.”

[Detected, consumable item, Eryndor Soulfruit {Grade-Divine (Degraded)}.]

[Talent has detected, the item is out of talent’s reach in the lower realm.]

[Peak possible enchantment available to enchant up to: +19 times. Cost: 107,450 EEP (Per fruit).]

”…What?”

Evan’s jaw nearly dropped.

Nineteen times enchantment… at that insane cost?

He shook his head. ”Damn it. Got the treasure in hand but not the means to use it. If I blow all my points, I can’t evolve my physique.”

The panel faded. He sighed.

”Fine… if I can’t have the enchanted ones, then I’ll just eat them like that.”

Without hesitation, he tossed all three fruits into his mouth, one after another.

Sweet nectar burst across his tongue, smoother than any honey. His body warmed as if bathed in divine light.

”Not bad…” He smiled faintly, lying back on the bed.

Arven had told him there would be no pain. And true enough, drowsiness swept over him. His eyes closed, sleep claiming him at last.

The inn grew quiet. Outside, the town buzzed, but inside, the only sound was Drogmir’s hammer striking the armour.

Yet within Evan’s body, a storm had begun.

The fruit’s energy surged through him, weaving into flesh and blood.

But the greatest change wasn’t physical.

In his soul space, Arven frowned as he saw cracks running through Evan’s soul.

”Damaged by the Void, when you crossed worlds… and burdened further by knowledge you shouldn’t have carried,” Arven muttered.

The cracks widened under the strain—then glowed as the fruit’s essence poured in.

Arven moved his hands, guiding the flow.

”Without me here, half the fruit’s power would’ve gone to waste.”

The healing began. Soul wounds that had long been ignored began to knit back together.

Outside, Evan’s body glowed faintly, hidden under the blanket of night.

....

By morning, the storm subsided.

Evan stirred awake, stretching lazily. He felt light. Too light. As if three days of strain had been erased.

”Haah… amazing. This must be the fruit’s work,” he said with a grin.

Drogmir and the Undead Mage stood ready at his side, armour reforged and gleaming.

The sun streamed through the window. The town outside was alive with morning bustle.

Evan opened his system, eager to see the truth.

Ding! Ding! Ding!

[Detected, host has consumed the consumable items: Eryndor Soulfruit ×3.]

[Effects are being processed.]

[Host body stats elevated.]

[Hidden effect triggered: Soul’s stabilised.]

[Long rest enforced to stabilise body and soul.]

Evan’s eyes narrowed.

”So it wasn’t just hype… these fruits really are monsters.”

He swiped open his status panel, anticipation burning in his chest.

~~~~~~

◆ HP: 25,500 

◆ MP: 46,750 

◆ Strength (STR): 96 {+28 Red} (630↑)

◆ Agility (AGL): 67 {+31 Red} (630↑)

◆ Vitality (VIT): 50 {+25 Red} (630↑)

◆ Intelligence (INT): 75 {+46 Red} (630↑)

◆ Endurance (END): 38 {+24 Red} (630↑)

◆ Stamina (STA): 56 {+25 Red} (630↑)

◆ Spirit (SPT): 38 {+6 Red} (63↑) 

◆ Unassigned Stats:

440 (120↑)◆ Attack Power:7275.6 (Physical) | 7,012.5 (Elemental)

◆ Defence: 4,994 (+50%)

◆ Storage Summon:4,958/6,380

~~~~~~

”Huh… wait a second. Wasn’t it supposed to be +2 red stats per fruit? Then why do I have an extra +10, and why are they all peaked? And what’s with that Spirit stat? It increased by sixty-three, not like other stats.” Evan muttered, his tone caught between shock and a hint of nostalgia.

His body was humming with raw strength, veins rippling as if every fiber of muscle was overflowing with power.

The sudden surge made him feel like he had broken through into a new world altogether.

If he were to face Elya’s attack again, even without a weapon, he was confident he could withstand it.

Perhaps he would take some injury, but it would no longer be fatal.

Pulling off his shirt, he studied his chest—taut muscle packed tight, brimming with energy that seemed ready to tear apart everything in his path.

’With this much strength, I could crush that Guardian Serpent without even needing to rely on tricks. No one in this expanse would be able to stop me. But… why does it feel like I haven’t reached the true limit yet?’

Every one of his stats was brushing against the red limit of 30, some even going above. He had never heard of any human managing such a feat.

Yet his instincts whispered that his ceiling was higher, much higher.

’This must be the Monarch-grade physique, even if lesser, still superior to most. Just what kind of monster am I turning into?’

What he didn’t know was that the hidden boost came not from his physique alone, but from Arven quietly controlling the fruit’s energy, preventing its essence from going to waste and repairing the cracks in his soul.

That silent intervention gave him more than the usual results.

But Evan, lost in his own reasoning, simply clenched his fists and smirked.

”Alright. I should eat something and then head straight for the Forbidden Zone. Can’t waste time—Sylen could return any moment.”

He glanced toward Drogmir and the Undead Mage, who had been silently watching. His gaze fell on the newly reforged armour resting in their hands.

Evan lifted the mantle, feeling its weight—or rather, the lack of it. What once felt like heavy battle gear now sat as lightly as a mage’s robe.

His curiosity flared, and with a thought, he pulled up its system panel.

__

[Egaisveil Battlemantle – Erith Rank (Peak) | Tier 0 | +3]

A reforged hybrid war-mage mantle, its steel core and mana-woven layers now reinforced with Whispering Bloom Iron. The rare alloy grants an ethereal lightness without compromising durability, allowing the user to wield heavy protection with surprising ease. A mantle that sings with balance—blending the steel-clad resilience of a warrior and the fluid arcana of a mage.

🔹 Enchantments & Traits:

Beast Wardskin (Enhanced): +35% Magic Resistance, +25% Elemental Shielding, +60% Physical Defence

Kinetic Flow: Reduces stamina loss by 35% during physical combat, increases movement speed slightly.

Arcane Conduit: Mana regeneration +10%, spell-weave speed +15%.

Whisper steel Bloom (Passive):

The reforged alloy grants feather-light weight, further boosting agility.__

Evan’s lips curled. ”Perfect. You really did become a fine blacksmith after undeath. Be grateful—you get to shine because you’re under my command.”

Satisfied, he collected the smithing tools and dismissed his summons. Slinging the armour onto his back, he stepped out of the inn.

The streets were already buzzing with life. Merchants had laid out stalls, buying beast corpses and rare materials in bulk. Evan’s thoughts drifted to the piles of carcasses stored in his inventory.

’Time to lighten my load and fatten the coin purse.’

He made his way toward the market, eyes gleaming with purpose.

Evan moved stall to stall, selling his loot in small batches to avoid drawing attention.

After trading at eighteen different vendors, he finally exchanged enough materials to gather a total of 268 silver and 32 bronze coins, adding to his previous savings of 40 silver.

His sacks were so heavy that he had to split them into two before tossing them into his inventory.

Satisfied, he returned to the inn to eat before leaving.

The tavern was quiet, the crowd thin during the day. Evan picked a corner table and ordered dishes made from high-level beast meat.

When the plates arrived, the smell alone was enough to stir hunger. He dug in, only to pause mid-bite when he sensed someone looming nearby.

A man stood in front of his table—broad shoulders, two axes strapped to his back, and sharp eyes that didn’t blink.

At first, Evan ignored him, assuming he was just passing by. But the man didn’t move. Then two more figures joined him.

Evan put down his spoon and looked up.

”Can I ask why you’re staring at me?”

The man smiled faintly. ”We were waiting for you to finish before speaking.”

”You can talk now. I don’t have time to waste.”

”Then allow me. My name is Holt, and these are my companions, Marek and Jorin. We’re forming a team, and we need someone like you—a Necromancer. We’ll split loot fairly, give you thirty percent every hunt, and—”

Evan cut him off without raising his eyes from the plate.

”Not interested.”

Holt blinked. ”Ah, so you already have a team then—”

”I don’t. I just don’t join teams. So leave.”

The smile slipped from Holt’s face. His voice grew cold.

”Kid, arrogance like that will get you killed. When the day comes, you’ll regret turning us away.”

Evan sipped his drink, calm as ever.

”Finished? Then move along. I’m still eating.”

Marek, the hot-headed one, gripped a dagger and stepped forward.

Evan smirked.

Holt stopped him with a hand, throwing Evan one last glare before walking out with his men.

Outside the inn, Marek exploded.

”Captain, why’d you hold me back? That fool was begging for a beating!”

Jorin agreed, fists clenched.

Holt’s grin turned sharp as he looked back.

”If we fought there, we’d be jailed. But don’t worry. Our time will come. And when it does, he’ll regret crossing us.”

Inside, Evan finished his meal, paid his bill, and returned to his room. He set the space carefully so it looked occupied from the outside, then slipped out the window.

Using Camouflage, he leapt across rooftops, his presence faint as smoke.

The city walls were nothing before his boosted stats. Two steps and he was over, landing silently in the forest beyond.

He was about to summon his steed when he stopped. His instincts stirred. Someone was following.

A grin touched his lips. He dismissed the half-summoned horse and ran deeper into the woods, weaving through the trees until the sounds of the city vanished.

After ten minutes, he stopped in a silent clearing.

His hand formed a black bolt as he turned.

”Come out already. If you don’t, I’ll attack first.”

At first, there was silence. Then footsteps crunched through the brush. Holt stepped out, his two companions at his side.

”I didn’t expect you to catch on so fast,” Holt admitted. ”Mage or not, your senses are sharp.”

Evan tilted his head, chuckling. ”I was wondering when this would happen. And here you are.”

His eyes shone with a hint of unknown joy, as if carved by battle.

Inside his body, the power of the fruit he had devoured still thrummed, begging to be unleashed.

The air around him grew heavy.

”Shall we begin?”

—> To be continued…

What will the outcome be? Will Evan reveal his true strength, or will he use some other tricks to defeat Holt and his teammates?

If you want to find out, be sure to add it to your library to receive the latest chapter after it’s posted.