Karnak, Monarch of Death

As it turned out, Serati’s connection was someone already familiar to Karnak and Varos.

“You’ve got Mr. Alius, don’t you?”

Of course, there was a reason the two had dismissed Alius from the start.

“Isn’t the King’s Order directly under the royal family?”

“Isn’t it completely separate from the church?”

Serati corrected their misunderstanding.

“It’s true that the King’s Order is an independent organization, but that doesn’t mean it has no connection to the church.”

No matter how much the royal families wanted to hunt heretics on their own, they couldn’t completely exclude the church. Powerful priests were essential for dealing with necromancers. For this reason, the royal families of each kingdom wanted high-ranking priests from the churches of the seven goddesses to work under their direct authority.

Naturally, the Church was initially resistant. The authority to conduct inquisitions was meant to be carried out in the name of the great goddesses. Only clergy were qualified to fulfill this sacred duty. But now the suggestion was to give that authority to laypeople and even assign priests to work as their subordinates? This clashed with their doctrine in many ways.

Unsurprisingly, there had been significant opposition from fundamentalists. However, reality couldn’t be ignored. The churches were already overwhelmed by the sheer number of necromancer-related incidents erupting across the continent. If secular powers were willing to take responsibility for combating the Cult of the Black God, it would undoubtedly ease the burden.

“And in fact, there are even reports of the church struggling in cases where the Dark Cult was involved,” Serati explained.

When political issues came into play, the church, distanced from secular affairs, had no choice but to endure unnecessary delays. Thus, allowing royal families to take the lead in such situations was something the church could also support.

Thus, a compromise was reached. The King’s Order would remain under the direct control of the royal family, but its members would be selected through recommendations from the church. Furthermore, if the royal family directly appointed someone, they would be subject to a review by the church.

This arrangement prevented the secular rulers from misusing the authority of inquisitors while also maintaining doctrinal integrity to a certain extent. The royal families accepted these terms. After all, they still needed the church to supply priests, so they couldn’t afford to insist on complete autonomy.

“...So that’s why Mr. Alius has the authority to recommend candidates. He’s a first-class inquisitor, after all,” Serati concluded.

Karnak, who had been listening intently, suddenly grew curious. “Serati, how do you know all this?”

This wasn’t the sort of information one could pick up from mere rumors. It was a closely guarded secret, known only to those deeply involved.

“That’s because I heard it directly from Mr. Alius,” she replied with a bright smile.

“Originally, both Mr. Riltane and I were slated to receive recommendations to join the King’s Order,” she added casually.

As it turned out, the incident in Trist City had been something of a test for them. Serati was an aura user, and Riltane was a sixth-circle mage. Both were more than capable, with extensive experience hunting necromancers in real combat.

“So, our eligibility for the King’s Order was to be fully established once we resolved the issue with Bishop Straph,” she explained.

The Trist City case was far from a typical heretic hunt. Their opponent had been a ruler who controlled an entire city—an assignment that should have fallen under the jurisdiction of the King’s Order.

“Since it was a stain on the Hatoba Church’s reputation, they wanted to handle it internally. Afterward, they planned to recommend us to the King’s Order as capable recruits and use that as a pretext to explain away their overreach,” Serati added. “Expanding to the capital to take on greater responsibilities isn’t something we opposed, either.”

Karnak nodded in understanding. “So they gave you a heads-up in advance...”

Varos looked puzzled. “Then why didn’t we hear about this earlier?”

“Well, it’s a bit funny to say now, but...” Serati smirked. “You two look weak, right.”

“Weak?”

“Us?”

“I mean, on paper,” she clarified.

Of course, Serati knew exactly how monstrous Karnak and Varos truly were. Even Alius and Riltane, unaware of their secrets, had seen them in action and were convinced of their exceptional abilities.

But how could they explain that to others? On record, Karnak was merely a fourth-circle mage, and Varos was an ordinary knight who hadn’t even awakened his aura. Their actual strength was remarkable, but their official credentials painted a different picture.

“That’s why you two were included in the Trist City operation. It was to prove that even if your abilities seemed ordinary, you were specialists in dealing with necromancers.”

“So after we resolved the case, they planned to recruit us, huh?” Karnak mused.

“Exactly.”

“Then why didn’t anyone say anything?”

“Because Mr. Alius didn’t get the chance. You declared you were returning to your territory before he could bring it up.”

“Oh, right. I did do that,” Karnak admitted.

Varos muttered to himself, as if it finally made sense. “No wonder he seemed so disappointed.”

They had thought it strange at the time. His expression had been far too dejected for someone simply losing potential collaborators.

“So, all we have to do is go back to Mr. Alius, then?” Karnak asked.

“Yes,” Serati replied confidently. “I’m sure he’ll write the recommendation letter right away.”

***

Once their goal was set, there was no reason to hesitate. Karnak, Varos, and Serati began preparing for their journey. However, they never managed to leave for Derath City.

“Ah! No, absolutely not!”

The vehement objection came from the old steward, Tafel.

“If the young lord is absent, who will govern our territory?”

This was a situation Karnak hadn’t anticipated.

“What’s with this all of a sudden...?”

Hadn’t he left for months, even over half a year, in the past?

It was common for nobles from backwaters to entrust their lands to deputies while participating in politics at the capital. It was almost unheard of for a lord to personally manage their territory all year round, except perhaps in some rural backwater.

The typical arrangement involved spending several months in the capital and the remainder in the territory. Karnak had always adhered to this pattern without issue—until now.

“That was different! Your life wasn’t on the line back then!”

When Karnak had vacated his position due to the threat posed by the Devantor Viscounty, it had been unavoidable. There had been no other option. Likewise, there had been no objections when he traveled to Derath City for magical studies.

The news that Karnak had taken up necromancer hunting afterward had been met with a mix of pride and worry. But now? Now he was planning to join the King’s Order and confront the fearsome Cult of the Black God.

“Isn’t that the kind of dangerous work where you could lose your life at any moment?”

“I’ll be fine. I’m not going to die.”

“All young people say that! But does death spare anyone based on age or station?”

“We-well, you’re not wrong...” Karnak admitted begrudgingly, glancing irritably at the obstinate steward. “So what do you want me to do? Just stay holed up in the territory forever?”

“That’s not what I’m saying,” Tafel replied firmly.

A loyal steward devoted to the house of Baron Zestrad, Tafel declared, “You must marry and secure an heir! Enjoying life comes after that. That is the duty of the one who carries the family line.”

***

Three days had passed since Karnak decided to join the King’s Order. Yet he was still stuck in the territory.

“An heir...” he muttered blankly, staring out the study window. “Where am I supposed to find a wife at a moment’s notice?”

Varos, sprawled across the sofa, shook his head. “Even if you find one, that’s just the start. Even if you marry right away, it’ll take ten months for a child to be born.”

And it wasn’t as if the current situation allowed for such a leisurely timeline.

“This is ridiculous,” Karnak sighed. “I can’t believe I’m being held back by something like this.”

“Maybe I should just pick a healthy young woman from among the villagers and ask her to have my child. As long as there’s an heir, that should be enough, right?”

“Are you okay with a wife from a commoner background?”

“I’m half-commoner myself. But when I think of my late mother, it feels like something I shouldn’t do...”

“Still, you can’t just waste time like this forever,” Varos pointed out.

“You’re right. I guess I’ll just have to settle for some random maiden...”

“I heard the miller’s daughter, Mary, is supposed to be a fine young woman,” Varos offered.

“Is she pretty?”

Even in this situation, Karnak couldn’t help but ask the most superficial question first. He was still a man.

Varos shrugged. “How should I know? I’ve never seen her face.”

“Maybe one of the maids? If I tell her she could become the lady of the house, one might agree,” Karnak mused.

“Do you have someone in mind?”

“No, I’ve never really paid attention. I can’t even remember their faces.”

Meanwhile, Serati stood silently in the corner of the study, watching the two with an expression of utter disbelief. For three days now, they had done nothing but spout useless nonsense.

Finally, she muttered to herself, “This is kind of impressive, in a way.”

Karnak turned his head.

“Huh? What’s strange?”

Serati hesitated for a moment before speaking softly.

“...You didn’t even mention me, Lord Karnak.”

In truth, she was the most logical choice in this situation. As his vassal, she was bound to obey any command he gave her. If he told her to bear his child, she would have no choice but to comply, whether she liked it or not.

Not to mention, she was a beauty who could hold her own in any company. And yet, despite Karnak rattling off names of young women across the territory, he hadn’t brought her up even once.

Could it be that he cherished her?

That didn’t seem likely. Karnak wasn’t exactly the sentimental type.

Was it because she was a commoner?

Unlikely. The other women he mentioned were commoners too.

Or... am I just not attractive enough?

It wasn’t as though Serati wanted to marry Karnak, but being ignored so completely left her with complicated feelings.

Karnak widened his eyes as he looked at her sulking expression.

“Oh, you mean you?”

Then he dropped a bombshell.

“Serati, you’re my vassal. You can’t have children in your current state.”

“...Excuse me?”

“Your soul is bound to me. No matter how many men you sleep with, you won’t ever conceive. For a new soul to take root, fragments of both parents’ souls need to merge. But since your soul is tied to me, that can’t happen.”

“Wait a second! You made me infertile?” Serati yelled, horrified. “You didn’t mention that part!”

Karnak and Varos exchanged blank looks, as if they’d never expected such an extreme reaction.

“Is that really such a big deal?” Karnak asked.

“Exactly. I thought permanent contraception would be a perk,” Varos added.

“You lunatics!” Serati shouted, nearly stumbling as her legs wobbled beneath her.

I knew I couldn’t ever afford to let my guard down against these idiots...

Pulling herself together, she asked in a measured tone, “Tell me, what other disruptions to daily life should I expect from this whole vassal business? Be honest.”

The two exchanged uncertain glances, awkwardly scratching their heads.

“Uh... that’s about it?”

“Yeah, nothing else.”

Naturally, Serati didn’t believe them.

By now, she understood the truth.

These men have no idea what ‘normal daily life’ even is! They couldn’t recognize a disruption if it hit them in the face!

They wouldn’t realize a problem existed until it was too late.

Her patience finally at its limit, Serati spoke curtly. “Enough with the pointless deliberations.”

“Pointless? They won’t let me leave without an heir!” Karnak protested.

“Leave them a letter and sneak out during the night. Something like: Don’t worry, I won’t die. I’ll return after earning glory and bringing honor to the family.”

Karnak’s eyes sparkled at the simple solution.

“Can we really do that? Isn’t that a bad thing to do?”

Of course, it was a bad thing. A responsible noble would never dream of abandoning their duties like that.

“I considered it myself, but I couldn’t decide if it was an acceptable level of bad. What if people criticize me later?” Karnak mused.

“You’re worried about being criticized after doing this to me?” Serati asked incredulously.

“I don’t care if you criticize me. You’re my vassal anyway,” Karnak said with a shrug.

Grinding her teeth, Serati forced a smile.

“No, it’s fine. You’ll just come off as an impulsive fool chasing honor in his youth. As long as you return alive, no one will make a fuss. And if you die, well, criticism won’t matter then.”

“I see!” Karnak’s eyes lit up with understanding. “Varos, pack your things! We’re running tonight!”

***

The next morning. Old Steward Tafel stood clutching a single letter, his wails echoing through the estate.

“My lorddd!”

The letter was painfully brief.

Don’t worry, I won’t die. I’ll return after earning glory and bringing honor to the family.

It was the result of taking Serati’s suggestion far too literally.

What on earth is going on? I thought he’d matured recently, but he’s back to his old self!

There was only one thing that had changed recently.

It’s her fault. It must be that woman!

Grinding his teeth, the steward pictured the red-haired beauty in his mind.

That woman is corrupting our good young lord!