Karnak, Monarch of Death

Varos clicked his tongue as he watched Olt transform into a demonic form.

That’s not easy to pull off. This guy is definitely high-level as well.

Demonic transformation was something most necromancers could perform. The act itself wasn’t particularly difficult. The challenge lay in reverting to human form. This was why demonic transformation was often viewed as akin to suicide. Most necromancers who took on a demonic form lost their sanity, succumbing to madness and uncontrollable rampages.

However, what Olt had performed was no ordinary demonic transformation. It was the pinnacle of demonization—Demonic Metamorphosis—a highly advanced technique that allowed the caster to retain their sanity while channeling the raw power of a demon.

“Graaaaah!”

With a deafening roar, Olt lunged at Varos. Despite his experience and knowledge, Varos was still confined to the limits of human strength. He found Olt a difficult opponent to handle. With a quick glance, he signaled to Serati.

[Take care of this one!]

[Got it!]

She swiftly stepped in between the two. It was definitely easy to fall into sync with their magical communication.

“I’m your opponent!”

Her blade, infused with darkness, slashed toward Olt’s face. He dodged with a sharp turn of his head before letting out a mocking laugh.

“Do you think mere physical enhancement can match my power?”

His confidence wasn’t without basis. It aligned with Karnak’s earlier remark. A necromancer who looked normal couldn’t possibly be strong. The more a necromancer enhanced their body with necrotic power, the less human they appeared.

“Let me show you the true power of darkness!”

Olt raised his claw-like fingers and unleashed a relentless, storm-like barrage of attacks.

“Kahahaha!”

Yet, to his surprise, Serati matched him blow for blow.

“Is that all you’ve got?”

She deflected minor attacks with ease, redirected the force of heavier strikes, and continued to circle him with precision, delivering counterattacks with her sword. It was an evenly matched fight. Olt couldn’t understand what was happening.

“How... how are you this strong?”

Serati’s appearance was still that of a graceful woman, which to him was proof that she hadn’t used any significant physical enhancements.

But how can she display such raw power?

Serati chuckled internally.

Because I’m not using necrotic power to enhance myself.

To maintain her disguise as a necromancer, Serati intentionally refrained from revealing her aura. Instead, she kept it circulating internally, subtly reinforcing her body. Even at a fraction of her true strength, it was far more efficient than any necromantic enhancement.

The battle between the demon and the woman raged on, the sound of their clash echoing across the slums.

Boom!Boom!Bang!

Frustrated, Olt drew on his necrotic power once more.

“You insolent wench! I’ll end this in one blow!”

The dark energy he summoned surged and shot out from his demonic maw like a bolt of lightning. For the first time, Serati’s expression grew serious.

I can’t dodge this one.

She could block it by revealing her aura, but that would give away her true identity. Instead, she reached for her secret weapon.

With a smirk, she lifted her frying pan above her head.

“Hmph!”

She gave it a dramatic twirl.

“Hyaaah!”

But she didn’t strike with the frying pan. Instead, she let it down before following through with her sword, driving it forward in a piercing thrust. Crimson energy burst from her blade and clashed with Olt’s dark attack.

Boom!

The entire street shook as Olt’s attack was obliterated in an instant. Dazed, Olt’s gaze shifted to Serati’s left hand—the one holding the frying pan.

What on earth is she doing with that thing?!

***

Varos continued his battle against Kayle. It was quite a stark contrast to Serati’s duel. Kayle was the epitome of a classic necromancer: He stayed at a distance, shielded himself with evil spirits, and sent waves of ghostly soldiers forward with the Lantern of Lost Souls. He protected himself while focusing on eliminating his enemy.

The sheer number of ghosts overwhelmed Varos, pushing him back relentlessly. He seemed like a solitary leaf caught in a violent storm, a helpless figure amidst the chaos. Yet, despite appearances, Varos wasn’t at a disadvantage.

No matter how fierce a storm may be, it can’t tear apart a leaf.

He moved fluidly, swaying and flowing with the tide of attacks. He channeled all his energy into evading and sidestepping into blind spots, both his own and his enemy’s. If anyone skilled in martial arts had witnessed his movements, they would have been awestruck by his mastery. But Kayle cared nothing for martial arts. It was simply frustrating and infuriating.

“You rat! All you do is scurry around!”

Varos smirked and shot back, “And yet, you can’t even catch this rat. Isn’t that the real problem here?”

Even as he mocked his opponent, Varos kept a sharp eye on the surrounding ghostly soldiers. Though he taunted Kayle, he had no intention of running indefinitely.

Conserving stamina is key.

Spotting an opportunity, Varos swung his mop in a wide arc, then followed up with a powerful slash of his sword. Dark energy burst from the blade and enveloped the ghostly soldiers around him.

“Graaaaah!”

“Kyaaaaah!”

The spirits let out horrifying wails as they dissolved, as if doused in acid.

Kayle gritted his teeth in frustration. “Damn it! That again?”

It had been like this the entire fight. Every time Kayle pushed forward with his ghostly army, Varos unleashed that inexplicable necromantic technique to break free. Then, he would retreat—again and again. Kayle had been desperately trying to analyze Varos’s method, but he was getting nowhere.

I just can’t figure it out!

No matter how hard he looked, it seemed to be just an ordinary mop. There was no death energy or malice emanating from the mop. That meant he couldn’t anticipate its activation or discern the flow of power behind it. And yet, it was undeniably effective.

What is the true nature of this technique?

***

On a rooftop of a dilapidated building a block away from the clearing, Karnak observed the battle through a scrying spell. He gave a serene smile.

“You can’t figure it out, can you?”

His tone carried amusement as he continued to watch.

“And rightly so. Of course you can’t.”

There were two types of great lies. One was the kind that was realistic enough to make people think it might actually be true. The other was the kind that was so absurd that no one would believe someone could possibly go that far.

This lie was the latter. They couldn’t figure it out? Couldn’t sense any signs or warnings? Of course not. Because there was nothing to figure out. The mop and frying pan were, quite literally, just ordinary household items.

That’s precisely what makes them so effective.

Karnak had been subtly assisting Varos and Serati with his necromantic spells throughout the battle, all while keeping himself hidden. However, against necromancers, such aid wouldn’t go unnoticed for long. Eventually, the flow of malice and death energy would reveal his interference.

That was why he needed a distraction. Misdirection was an essential skill for any necromancer. And the mop and frying pan? They were perfect tools for drawing attention. They were suspicious enough to catch the eye but mysterious enough to defy explanation, ensuring Kayle and Olt focused all their mental energy on unraveling their supposed significance.

If only all my opponents were as naïve as these two, life would be so much easier.

Still, Karnak knew this wouldn’t work forever. Watching the battle unfold, his smile widened as he thought to himself.

They should be catching on soon...

***

The first to notice was Kayle.

”I’ve got it!”

Unlike Olt, who was locked in frantic close combat with Serati, Kayle was fighting from a distance. With a wider view of the battlefield, he was quicker to grasp the situation.

”Don’t be fooled, Olt! It’s nothing!”

Olt, having just dodged one of Serati’s strikes, raised an eyebrow. ”It’s nothing?”

For a moment, he couldn’t understand. Even now, she seemed to be doing something with that frying pan.

”Yeah, it’s just a trick to distract us!”

Olt, being a necromancer himself, was well aware of the importance of misdirection. It clicked immediately.

”So that’s it! Cunning little rats!”

These two were merely pawns. The real necromancer lay somewhere else, pulling the strings behind the scenes.

The premise was wrong from the start. It’s no wonder we couldn’t figure out their tricks!

Taking a step back, Olt began scanning the surroundings, his eyes darting suspiciously. At the same time, Kayle focused his senses not on Varos but on the broader flow of death energy in the clearing.

Noticing their change in behavior, Varos and Serati exchanged thoughts through their magical link.

[Oh, they’re catching on?]

[Looks like we’ll have to speed things up.]

Varos raised his mop high into the air, spinning it theatrically before taking a bold step forward and thrusting it skyward.

”Hup!”

Serati, not missing a beat, twirled the frying pan’s handle in her palm and struck a grand pose.

”Take this!”

At a glance, their movements seemed dramatic, almost meaningful. But Kayle and Olt were no longer deceived.

”We’ve already figured you out!”

”Do you think we’ll fall for that now?”

Ignoring the mop and frying pan entirely, they focused their senses solely on the flow of dark energy. And finally, they felt it. There was a genuine surge of necromantic power, creeping stealthily from the far side of the clearing.

”Tesranach!”

Calling on the name of their dark god, the two unleashed a torrent of shadows. The surge obliterated the necromantic domain before it could be cast.

Booom!

”Hah! How’s that?”

But neither Kayle nor Olt realized that this was exactly the scenario Karnak had orchestrated.

”Feeling proud of yourselves, huh? Think you’ve solved the puzzle, do you?”

Standing a block away, Karnak giggled as he watched through his scrying spell. Varos was swinging the mop, but they were ignoring him.

“Well, just because it’s ordinary doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt when it hits you.”

With his mop in hand, Varos slipped behind Kayle, who was entirely absorbed in Karnak’s decoy necromancy. Kayle never noticed. His mind was entirely fixated on the flow of necrotic energy.

Taking full advantage of this opening, Varos brought the mop handle crashing down onto the back of Kayle’s head.

Thwack!

No excessive force was necessary to render someone unconscious. A single, completely unexpected strike was more than enough. With a groan, Kayle crumpled like a lifeless puppet.

”Urghhh...”

Olt, too, was caught off guard. In an instant, Serati closed the distance, her frying pan aimed precisely at his skull. Of course, Olt’s demonic transformation had significantly boosted his defense. A regular frying pan wouldn’t even make him flinch. That’s why Serati coated it with a shimmering layer of crimson aura.

Clang!

The clear, resonant sound of the strike rang out across the night sky, sharp and bright.

***

It’s over.

Karnak turned to glance behind him. “I’ll step out for a moment, Your Highness.”

“To interrogate the prisoners? Then I’ll come with you,” Lloyd said, moving to follow.

Karnak raids his hand and stopped him.

“It would be better if Your Highness stayed here. There could be another necromancer lurking nearby, waiting for an opportunity to target you.”

The real reason, of course, was that the prince couldn’t be allowed to witness the interrogation methods Karnak had in mind. But his statement wasn’t entirely untrue. Such ambushes were surprisingly common.

Lloyd nodded in understanding. “You’re right. I’ll stay hidden, then.”

Leaving the building, Karnak walked leisurely toward the clearing. There, Kayle and Olt were tied down by an oppressive, jet-black energy, their bodies still limp from the beating they had received. Neither had yet regained their full senses.

“Shall I wake them, young master?” Varos asked, stepping forward.

“Go ahead.”

Varos didn’t hesitate, slapping both men hard across the face in quick succession. The two necromancers groaned as they slowly came to, their eyes darting around in confusion before settling on Karnak. Terror instantly flashed across their faces.

It’s him!

That’s the real necromancer!

Though Karnak did nothing but stand there, his presence exuded a malevolent aura that sent chills down their spines. For necromancers like Kayle and Olt, the oppressive energy was particularly horrifying.

The two exchanged desperate glances.

Damn it...

If it’s come to this...

They couldn’t allow themselves to be captured. Dying was preferable to betraying the cult. Their resolve hardened as they widened their eyes and shouted,

“Tesranach, hear us!”

“We return to your embrace!”

Blood gushed from their mouths as the two collapsed onto the ground. They had activated a signature suicide spell of the cult: Heartburst. No one seemed particularly shocked, though. They were more exasperated than anything.

“Are they out of their minds?” Karnak muttered, clicking his tongue. “They’re necromancers themselves, yet they kill themselves just to protect secrets?”

He raised his right hand, and a dark hand emerged from the ground and reached into the air. The souls of the two necromancers came into view. The hand of darkness pinched their cheeks and dragged them forward.

“Gah!”

“Ugh!”

With a flick of his wrist, Karnak slammed their spirits into the ground, his grin widening.

“Well, now, we have a lot to talk about, don’t we?”

Fear began to flicker in the eyes of the two souls as they realized their torment was far from over.