Karnak, Monarch of Death

Fred shouted at the top of his lungs.

“Rise, spirit of the damned!”

Veins bulged on his neck as he screamed over and over.

“Obey my command and kill that man!”

The wraith remained motionless. It continued to lie flat at Karnak’s feet, utterly still and completely submissive. It was just like an obedient puppy.

Karnak looked at Fred and grumbled. “Why do you keep calling it a spirit? It has a proper name—it’s a wraith.”

Varos, sheathing his sword, replied nonchalantly. “Well, maybe he just doesn’t know any better.”

Fred, after all, had never formally studied necromancy. He’d merely stumbled upon dark powers and wielded them on raw instinct. As far as his understanding went, there were spirits, lots of spirits, and stronger spirits.

“Well, technically, a wraith is a kind of spirit, so he’s not wrong,” Varos added.

“Yeah, but it’s cringey to hear it out loud!” Karnak snapped.

It was like a military commander shouting, ‘Charge, humans!’ or ‘Kill them, people!’—awkward and ridiculous. To a necromancer like Karnak, Fred’s commands sounded exactly like that.

Karnak’s face twisted in frustration. “He’s the idiot here, so why am I the one embarrassed? Damn it...”

Just then, Fred’s expression shifted, his eyes narrowing.

“That power...”

He hadn’t felt anything unusual when Karnak used magic earlier. But now, an ominous aura of malice and necrotic energy radiated from Karnak’s entire body.

“So you’re a necromancer too!”

“You just figured that out? You’re slower than I thought.”

Chaos magic couldn’t be used for necromancy. However, Karnak still retained the residual necrotic energy after refining it into chaos mana. It was concentrated necrotic power. Though the total amount of energy he possessed was far less than Fred’s, less than a tenth, in fact, its quality was far superior. It was more than enough to dominate a wraith.

Fred’s voice rose, tinged with indignation. “Instead of helping a fellow necromancer, you’ve sold your soul to the church and become their dog?!”

Karnak and Varos blinked in unison, utterly baffled by the nonsensical accusation.

“What did he just say? Helping a fellow necromancer?”

“Wow, this guy doesn’t even have basic common sense.”

“I’ve never seen a necromancer this naïve. Honestly... that’s kind of refreshing.”

Necromancers were beings who thrived on death and darkness. The death of other necromancers was included as well. In fact, other necromancers were practically a feast of potent energy. Thus, cooperation between necromancers was unheard of, and necromancers never held any favorable relationships with other necromancers.

They either killed and consumed each other’s power or enslaved one another through powerful binding spells—there was no middle ground.

“Times really have changed. A necromancer spouting nonsense like that? Incredible.”

“Back in our day, nobody gained necromantic power without at least some understanding of it.”

Fred glanced around cautiously.

These two...

Was it because Karnak had subdued the wraith so effortlessly? They were treating him as if he were already a captured prey, casually chatting among themselves.

If that’s the case...

Suddenly, Fred turned and bolted, running as fast as he could. He was banking on their distraction to make his escape.

“Oh, would you look at that? He’s trying to run,” Karnak said.

He didn’t bother to give chase. Why had Karnak treated Fred like he was already a captured prey?

“Because you already are.”

Darkness suddenly surged from Fred’s limbs. The shadowy energy formed massive hands that clamped down on him.

“Gah!”

Fred barely managed a few steps before collapsing to the ground in a heap. Karnak had already used necromancy to secretly bind his limbs in place.

“You think I just talk for the fun of it? Drawing attention with chatter while working in the background is a key necromantic tactic.”

Misdirection was so fundamental to necromancy that it even had its own section in necromantic manuals.

“After matching your chatter all the time, young master, I’ve picked up the habit myself—even though I don’t actually need to,” Varos grumbled.

Even as the two men leisurely conversed, the darkness continued its work. It crept up Fred’s limbs, coiling around his torso and then climbing to his head. When the shadows finally grasped his soul, they twisted and squeezed mercilessly.

A blood-curdling scream tore through the air.

“Aaaargh! AAAARGH!”

***

Once the summoner collapsed, the wraith dissipated on its own. Karnak extended a hand toward Fred, who was unconscious. He planned to dominate his mind and extract every piece of useful information.

“Awaken, my servant...”

Fred’s eyes rolled back, and he began to mumble. “Yes... master...”

What followed was a stream of rambling. But even as Fred divulged everything he knew, it quickly became apparent there wasn’t much to reveal. He had gained power by chance, gone on a rampage, and gotten caught. That was the entire story. Fred’s life could be summed up in a single, unimpressive sentence.

“He really was a nobody. There’s nothing to gain from him,” Karnak said, shaking his head.

“What should we do with him now?” Varos asked.

“Make him kill himself.”

If the Church of Latiel discovered their involvement, it could create unnecessary complications.

“Search his belongings. Look for a knife or something.”

“Understood.”

No traveler went without a blade. After all, it was a staple tool, whether for self-defense or utility. Varos rummaged through Fred’s belongings and found a dagger, which he placed in Fred’s limp hand.

“Let’s step back a bit. The blood might splatter and all.”

After putting some distance between themselves and Fred, Karnak manipulated the man’s mind. In a trance, Fred raised the dagger and slashed his own throat.

Schlrrrk!

Blood gushed like a fountain as Fred crumpled lifelessly to the ground. To any onlooker, it would appear as if the necromancer had taken his own life after being cornered and despairing.

“Now we just wait for Latiel’s pursuit to find the body,” Karnak said.

“Won’t they notice he was forced to kill himself with necromancy?” Varos asked.

“If he was an ordinary human, maybe. But...” Karnak reached out toward Fred’s corpse. “This body is already soaked in dirty, necrotic energy. It’s like throwing sewage into a cesspool—who’s going to notice?”

The corpse exuded a black mist that surged toward Karnak. It seeped rapidly into his hand. Varos blinked in surprise.

“Wait, are you absorbing his necrotic energy?”

“Just a bit. I’ll leave most of it for the Church of Latiel, or they’ll get suspicious.”

“No, I mean... didn’t you say you should avoid this kind of filthy necrotic energy altogether?”

An immense effort was required to purify the corruption and malice inherent in tainted necrotic energy to create chaos mana. Absorbing the vile energy from someone like Fred was far less efficient than starting fresh with pure, untainted dark energy.

Karnak shook his head.

“It’s not about gaining power. I’m trying to find out more about the Prophecy of Doom. There might be something useful hidden in all this.”

He continued absorbing the darkness, focusing intently. Suddenly, his expression froze.

His face stiffened, and Varos, startled, asked, “What’s wrong, young master?”

There was no reply. Karnak’s complexion grew paler and paler, as if he’d been deeply shaken.

“...Young master?”

Karnak stood rooted to the spot for a long time, unmoving. Varos, sensing something was off, instinctively reached for his weapon.

Did something go wrong?

But then Karnak let out a deep sigh and began to walk away.

“...Let’s head back to the estate, Varos.”

It was his usual calm demeanor. Relieved, but still puzzled, Varos couldn’t help but think, What’s going on with him?

To be precise, Karnak’s expression wasn’t entirely his usual one.

It’s almost like...

Of anyone in the world, Karnak was the most accustomed to evil spirits. He commanded them, ruled over death and darkness, and had even earned the title of the Monarch of Death.

Varos thought he’d never see such a look on Karnak’s face.

...Almost like he’d just seen a ghost.

***

As expected, the pursuers from the Church of Latiel discovered Fred’s body. Everything went without a hitch. The priests from Latiel examined the scene and concluded that Fred had committed suicide.

It was a common enough end for necromancers on the run, so no one suspected Karnak or Varos of involvement. After expressing their gratitude to the Zestrad estate, the pursuit squad returned to their church. Following this, Karnak became reclusive.

He distanced himself even from Varos, spending nearly all his waking hours in the training grounds, leaving only to sleep. He even had his meals delivered there, avoiding contact with others entirely. The reason he gave was simple.

“I want to deepen my understanding of magic, so I’ll be stepping away from worldly matters for a while.”

It was such a common occurrence for knights or mages to isolate themselves for training that it was almost considered routine. After all, Karnak had left once already to prepare for the trial by combat. Even Varos didn’t question it much.

Even during Karnak’s days as the Monarch of Death, it wasn’t unusual for him to spend months locked away in solitary research. Still, Varos couldn’t shake a lingering unease.

What was that expression back then?

A week passed. Finally, Karnak emerged from the training grounds and immediately summoned Varos.

“You called for me, young master?”

“Yes.”

As soon as Varos entered the study, Karnak began preparing a spell. Using chaos magic, he created a thin veil over the entire room. It was a soundproofing barrier, preventing any noise from escaping.

He’s setting up a barrier? In his own house?

Watching this, Varos’s confusion deepened. The study was already designed to be acoustically isolated, making it a secure place for discussing even necromantic matters. Karnak had never shown this level of caution before.

”Why are you acting like this? This isn’t like you, young master.”

Karnak slowly began to speak. “Varos.”

“Yes?”

“I’ve been doing some research.”

“On that thing... the so-called Shadow of Doom?”

Though they had gained almost nothing from Fred, one fact had become clear: The dark energy that had lured Fred was the very same force referred to by the seven churches of the continent as the Shadow of Doom.

“Yeah, the prophecy of the goddesses... all that talk about the world’s destruction and the end...”

Karnak absentmindedly twirled a strand of his black hair, trailing off mid-sentence.

“Young master?”

Varos frowned.

“Why are you dragging your words out like this?”

Karnak let out a long sigh and forced a weak smile.

“Turns out, I’m the culprit.”

***

Karnak, once the Monarch of Death, had used his immense necromantic powers to twist space and time, creating a bridge between the past and the future. Through this bridge, he sent his soul back to the past—a spell known as temporal regression.

Executing this spell had cost him dearly. He abandoned even the vast authority and power he held as the Monarch of Death to return to this era.

“Up until now, I thought that’s all there was to it...”

Slumping into a chair, Karnak muttered weakly.

“But it turns out I was mistaken about something.”

“Mistaken? About what?”

“Yeah.”

Abruptly, Karnak shifted the topic.

“Varos.”

“Yes?”

“Where do you think energies of the world, like aura or mana, accumulate?”

Varos tilted his head, puzzled. “Isn’t it within the body?”

“That’s right. To be precise, they accumulate in the physical body. It’s common knowledge.”

The aura of knights and the mana of mages accumulated in their physical forms. That was why, no matter how powerful they were, knights and mages could not escape the toll of time. The same principle applied to priests. Divine energy gathered in the body, while the soul harmonized with the flesh to wield it.

“Necromantic energy also accumulates in the body, like this.”

Karnak briefly summoned a flicker of black flame, extinguishing it just as quickly. After purging the residual filth with chaos magic, he continued. “The temporal regression spell I developed works by abandoning the body, allowing the soul to transcend space and time. There’s nothing wrong with the method itself.”

The issue lay in Karnak’s unique nature.

“You remember what I was, don’t you? Astra Shunaph.”

The undead of undead. A being of absolute authority, as if death itself incarnate.

“Here’s a question. What did I look like as the Monarch of Death?”

Varos looked at him in disbelief. Was he really asking such an obvious question to someone who had served him for over a century?

“What do you mean, what did you look like? A skeleton wrapped in eerie blue energy, drifting around like a ghost...”

Varos trailed off, his face freezing.

Wait, like a ghost?

A wry smirk spread across Karnak’s lips.

“Exactly. I was Astra Shunaph. I was...”

He had cast off his mortal body, creating a form of condensed spiritual energy through immense dark power. He transcended fate and ruled over death itself. Indeed—his form was one of spiritual energy. A being of chaos, neither purely physical nor entirely spiritual.

“I always assumed my necromantic energy belonged to my body. But it turns out my body itself belonged to my soul.”

And Karnak’s soul had transcended space and time to return to this era.

“No way...”

Varos’s jaw dropped.

“Are you saying your powers also traveled back in time with you?”