Karnak, Monarch of Death

Tarman and Alice weren’t the only ones stunned by the situation. Kald stood frozen, his expression as rigid as a corpse. It was because he recognized the face before him.

“Sir Durald?”

Durald, the strongest knight of Count Brellant’s estate and a red-tier aura user, had appeared before them, as a vampire. Durald narrowed his eyes at Kald’s reaction.

“I thought your face looked familiar. So it’s you, Dual Blade of Delim. Joined the King’s Order, have you?”

Kald stammered, his disbelief clear. “W-why... how could someone like you become a vampire?”

There was no way Durald had always been a vampire. Just two years ago, he had been unmistakably human. Kald had seen him standing in broad daylight under the scorching sun.

“What could possibly compel someone like you to...? Aura users lose their strength when they become vampires...”

No. That wasn’t true. The weapon in Durald’s hand was undeniably an aura-infused blade.

What’s going on?

Kald stood paralyzed by confusion, and Tarman stepped forward. His expression was resolute.

“So this confirms that Count Brellant has allied with the cult.”

He surveyed the vampires and declared with authority, his voice steady and commanding. “By the authority granted to the King’s Order, I hereby declare you enemies of the goddesses and the king! Kneel and surrender to the king’s decree!”

The vampires responded with eerie laughter.

“Kehehehe...”

“Hehehehe...”

“The king’s decree?”

“Kneel? Surrender?”

“Us? To you?”

Tarman remained unfazed. His declaration had been a formality, nothing more. He wasn’t expecting them to comply.

“If you refuse, you’ll face immediate judgment!”

Kald and Varos readied their stances, while Karnak began channeling his magic. Divine power began circling around Alice.

“King’s Order, by the name of the king, punish them!”

Durald raised his hand.

“Go, soldiers of Tesranach!”

The vampires surged forward.

“Offer the blood of heretics to our god!”

***

Tarman’s team, along with Karnak and Varos, quickly formed a defensive circle. Backs pressed together, they braced against the wave of vampires, prepared to fend off attacks from all directions. One vampire at the forefront let out a piercing screech.

“Kyahhh!”

Their fingernails extended into ten blade-like claws and sliced through the air. Blood-red energy wove a deadly net. A lesser soldier might have faltered at the sight alone, but...

“Hmph.”

Kald scoffed as he deflected the onslaught. It wasn’t much different from fighting someone wielding short swords. Sure, there were five claws on each hand, but they were all attached to the same palm. The trajectory of each claw was identical—only the range was slightly wider. Having two hands meant that they were essentially wielding two short swords.

“I’ll show you what real dual-blade combat looks like!”

Kald launched his counterattack.

His twin blades danced with dazzling speed. The short blade parried the vampire’s strikes while the long blade struck in rapid succession.

“Urgh!”

The vampire recoiled, blood spilling from their wounds. Kald closed the gap immediately. In an instant, his blades switched roles—the short blade took the offensive while the long blade served as a shield. The long reach from his blade allowed him to block an attack from another vampire attempting to strike him from the side. The second vampire’s claws clashed against the long blade, but not before blood spurted from their chest.

“Cursed lapdog of the royal family...!” the vampire snarled before coughing violently, unable to finish their sentence. The short blade had pierced their lungs.

This fluidity, this seamless adaptation in combat, was why Kald had earned the moniker Dual Blade of Delim. Though he hadn’t awakened his aura yet, he had already achieved mastery as a swordsman.

Kald continued to hold his own against the two vampires, but he couldn’t bring it to a decisive ending. Vampires didn’t fall easily. Even injuries that would have incapacitated a human with a single strike were nothing more than superficial wounds to these creatures. Such strikes only caused simple blood loss.

Damn, fighting creatures with regeneration is such a pain!

This was why the divine power of a priest was indispensable.

Alice raised her staff high.

“Oh, Atima! Bestow your blessing upon this blade to cut through the profane!”

A faint light enveloped Kald’s twin swords, a divine spell designed to weaken the regenerative powers of the undead. Without pause, she cast another spell.

“Before the light of the goddess, let the unholy burn!”

A gentle radiance spread across the battlefield, washing over both allies and enemies. While harmless to humans, the light felt like searing flames to the undead. The vampires writhed in glory while screaming in pain. It felt as if their skin had been set on fire.

“Kyahhh!”

“The priest!”

“Kill her first!”

A heavily armored vampire charged forward, bringing down its halberd in a deadly arc.

Watching the descending blade, Alice muttered, “It’s always the same. They always target me first.”

But the casual remark was evidence of her experience. She had faced similar scenarios countless times. Twisting her body, Alice struck her staff into the ground—not at the vampire, but at the earth beneath her feet.

Thud!

The ground glowed, and the vampire’s feet were ensnared by radiant energy. The momentum of its halberd faltered, and the blade was stopped short by Alice’s magical shield. Taking advantage of the opening, Alice extended her hand.

“Flash of Atima!”

A bullet of light struck the vampire square in the abdomen.

“Guhhh!”

The vampire was thrown backward, and Alice smirked triumphantly.

“Who says priests can’t fight? We have plenty of offensive spells!”

But the fallen vampire quickly stood back up. It seemed the blast of divine power, which should have been fatal to undead, had not inflicted significant damage.

Alice continued as if disappointed. “The problem is that most of our offensive spells are weaker than regular magic.”

This was the typical fighting style of a priest. They would spread divine power to hinder the enemy’s advance, repel weakened foes, and prioritize defense above all else. There was no need to take unnecessary risks to go on the offensive. Finishing the enemy was a job for her allies.

“Fire Blast!”

Tarman’s spell struck the armored vampire just as it prepared to lunge at Alice again.

Boom!

The vampire, who had just regained its footing, was sent sprawling across the ground once more.

“Gahhh!”

Another vampire seized the moment to target Tarman, but—

Thud!

A massive earthen creature, nearly two meters tall, stepped between them. Tarman had summoned a golem.

“Damn it! A mere golem dares to block my path?!”

The vampire snarled and slashed at the golem with its claws. Red energy-enhanced strikes rained down on the construct, but only small chunks of dirt fell away, leaving it mostly intact. The golem reached for the vampire with its massive hands, but the vampire easily sidestepped. The golem was far too slow to catch its opponent.

Both mages and necromancers used summons to bolster their combat capabilities. Necromancers summoned zombies, ghouls, wraiths, or specters, while mages summoned golems, puppets, mythical beasts and elemental spirits.

However, there was a significant difference in the power of the summons. Necromancers could command hundreds of zombies at once or summon rare and powerful undead monsters. In contrast, mages’ summons, like golems and puppets, tended to be slower and weaker. Mythical beasts and elemental spirits were more formidable, but summoning even one consumed a tremendous amount of mana.

Meanwhile, necromancers could summon dozens of evil spirits with the same amount of energy. At similar levels of ability, necromancers’ summoning magic far outstripped that of mages in sheer utility and scale. But mages had their own overwhelming advantage.

“Lightning Blast!”

A streak of blue lightning ripped through the air. It was too fast to evade, and it struck a retreating vampire directly.

“Arghhh!”

The vampire shrieked as its body was instantly incinerated, reduced to a pile of blackened ash scattered by the wind. The sheer destructive power of a mage’s attack magic was unmatched, capable of overwhelming even the undead’s formidable regeneration.

At comparable levels, a mage’s offensive magic surpassed a necromancer’s in every way. This fundamental difference shaped their respective strategies. Necromancers used summons as primary combatants, while they themselves took on the role of commanders. For mages, summoned creatures were merely shields—the mage themselves served as the core of the fight. Tarman surveyed the battlefield with a sharp gaze while allowing his mana to settle.

“One down. Not bad.”

It hadn’t been long since the battle began, yet the vampires’ numbers had already dwindled, while Tarman’s group remained unscathed. Tarman glanced toward Karnak’s group. It was thanks to them. Their skills far exceeded expectations, allowing the battle to proceed with relative ease.

I thought they were supposed to be a mere fourth-circle mage and a lowly knight from the countryside...

At the moment, Tarman’s trio was holding off five vampires. Karnak and Varos, on the other hand, were fighting four vampires with just the two of them—and they weren’t even struggling.

Tarman clicked his tongue in astonishment.

The world truly is vast. How could such powerful individuals have remained unknown for so long?

***

From Tarman’s perspective, Karnak and Varos seemed to be handling the vampires with ease. But the reality was slightly different.

[This is trickier than I expected.]

[Yeah, of all things, vampires...]

They were indeed relaxed. They were as far removed from any sense of danger as possible. But given their experience, four vampires should have been dispatched long ago. They had taken down far more formidable necromancers with ease in the past.

Casting spell after spell, Karnak muttered.

[Varos, do you remember how these guys fought?]

[Not really.]

Varos shrugged as he swung his blade.

[They were so weak we just used them as fodder.]

Karnak, who had once commanded legions of monsters against the world, had indeed employed vampires among his forces. The problem was that Tarman’s group had been spot-on with their explanation regarding vampires.

Not a single ancient vampire remained alive—they had all been eradicated. During his conquest, stronger ones eventually emerged after decades had passed, but by then, there were no real threats left to challenge the Monarch of Death.

[If these were zombies or ghouls, I’d have plenty of experience to draw on since I used them a lot when I was weaker, but...]

Karnak had never paid much attention to vampires, let alone their combat tactics.

[Let’s just treat them as regular fodder and ignore the details.]

[That sounds like the best plan.]

The two continued their battle calmly, focusing on safety rather than aggression. After all, there was no chance they would lose. As things stood, the situation was tilting heavily in Tarman’s group’s favor. If this pace continued, they would eliminate the vampire horde with minimal effort. And yet, the vampires showed no sign of fear.

“Tesranach watches over us!”

“Even if we fall here!”

“The God of Death will grant us the darkness of rebirth!”

Their fanatical devotion made even their deaths a form of martyrdom to Tesranach. No matter how many of their comrades fell, or how close they came to death themselves, the vampires attacked with reckless abandon. Meanwhile, unease began creeping into the expressions of Tarman’s group.

It’s not just about us winning...

The real issue is what happens over there.

Even in the heat of battle, Kald and Alice frequently glanced toward the clearing in the distance. There, the sounds of a relentless, thunderous clash continued without pause—

Boom! Boom! Kaboom!

Two streams of crimson aura crossed, leaving scorched earth in their wake. The intensity of the duel between Serati and Durald caused everything around them to be destroyed.