Karnak, Monarch of Death

A towering fire spirit, clad in molten armor, raised its sword of flames. Heat radiated from its massive form, forcefully driving back the icy storm. Demphis watched as his Blizzard Storm was nullified, feeling a rare sense of intrigue.

That thing... was actually a real summon?

It wasn’t the first time Karnak had summoned El Ragnatia. He had previously used it during his ambush on the Descent Ritual, intending to disrupt the battlefield. However, he had dismissed it almost immediately, never showcasing its true power.

That led Demphis to assume it had been an illusion. He had never believed Karnak had actually summoned a fire spirit.

That bastard is using spirit magic? There’s no way!

Only those who were truly righteous and pure could possess an affinity for spirits. And Karnak was, without a doubt, not such a person.

But why do I keep getting this strange feeling?

However, Demphis quickly dismissed the thought as a delusion. It didn’t make sense in the first place. According to his instincts, that black-haired youth would never risk his life just to save his comrades.

And yet, here he was. So, was Karnak actually an incredibly pure and kind-hearted individual? Was that why he could control spirits so effectively?

That’s impossible... but at the same time, I have no proof that it isn’t.

His instincts kept firing off conflicting signals. It was as if he were being forced to perceive a burly, bearded man as a delicate woman.

No, for now, I need to focus on capturing him.

Demphis forcefully pushed his thoughts aside. Losing focus in the middle of battle was unacceptable.

Raising his golden staff, he began chanting. ”Rise, frozen barrier. Ice Wall.”

Just as the incantation suggested, a massive wall of ice erupted from the ground. It was a straightforward spell, yet slightly out of place in the current situation. However, Karnak immediately recognized what it meant.

That one, huh?

As expected, Demphis wasted no time launching his next spell. ”Awaken, my guardians.”

The ice wall shattered into countless fragments, which then coalesced mid-air, reforming into an enormous, hulking giant of frost. It was an ice golem.

The wall hadn’t been meant for defense. It had simply served as raw material for the summon. In the center of the cathedral, the fire giant and the ice golem clashed violently. A massive shockwave tore through the air, sending gusts of steam swirling in every direction.

***

”Ooooohhh!”

With a deafening roar, El Ragnatia swung its flaming sword in a wide arc.

”Kraaaaah!”

The Ice Golem countered with its massive frozen club. The relentless exchange of blows continued. Flames and steam erupted in rapid succession.

The two summons were evenly matched. Given the disparity in skill between Karnak and Demphis, the balance was frustrating, but it was unavoidable. There was a fundamental difference in spirits and golems.

Despite that, Demphis had intentionally chosen to summon a golem. He couldn’t use necromantic summons like wraiths or infernal fiends. There was too much risk of losing control. Even from his perspective, Karnak’s mysterious Redeemer of Necromancy spell was too formidable to take lightly.

At the same time, summoning spirits or astral beasts through conventional magic was also out of the question. Not because he lacked the ability. As a ninth circle master, he could summon a vast array of formidable creatures if he wanted.

The problem was that they wouldn’t listen to him. Summoned spirits and astral beasts didn’t necessarily obey their summoners. If the caster was someone vile, they would often turn on their own summoner instead.

That was why most high-level magic users preferred artificial constructs like golems or puppets instead of dealing with spirits. And if the summoner was an undead lich? Any spirit he called forth would immediately go berserk and try to kill him.

So how the hell is he getting a spirit to obey him so easily?

Demphis studied El Ragnatia with growing intrigue. The fire giant was responding to Karnak’s every command with perfect discipline. But one thing was clear: Karnak was not pure-hearted.

How did he know? Because at this very moment, Karnak was casting blasphemy.

”Wandering wraiths, become arrows and strike my foes!”

From behind the fire giant, Karnak activated necromancy. Spectral figures emerged, morphing into shadowy arrows that shot toward Demphis.

”Oh, for the love of...”

Annoyed, Demphis conjured a veil of darkness, dissipating the arrows before they could reach him. He turned to glance between Karnak and the fire giant, his confusion deepening.

He’s blatantly using necromancy, so why is the spirit just ignoring it? What kind of trick is this?

It wasn’t just spirit magic that defied common sense. Behind the raging battle between ice and fire, Karnak and Demphis continued to exchange spells.

”Flames of the underworld, descend upon this land!”

”Brilliant light, become the piercing radiance that pierces all things.”

The first was Karnak’s spell. The second belonged to Demphis. A King’s Order mage, who was supposed to be hunting cultists, was freely using necromancy, while an archlich—a walking skeleton—was countering him with pure magic. It was a sight that felt fundamentally wrong.

As their battle dragged on, Demphis began to reconsider. This is proving to be trickier than expected.

It wasn’t that he couldn’t use stronger magic. But the collateral damage would be too great. If he recklessly unleashed higher-tier magic, the cathedral itself might collapse. After going through all the trouble of sealing off every escape route, he’d be a fool to break open an exit with his own hands. That was why he had opted for the simple brute-force approach of overwhelming Karnak with sheer magical pressure.

”I can block this much, at least.”

Karnak stared at the oncoming force and crossed his hands. Necromantic energy and mana wove together, interlacing like fabric until they formed a smooth, flowing barrier. Demphis’s magical pressure, which had been pressing in, slid off the surface of the shield and scattered into the air, exploding harmlessly around them.

At this point, all Demphis could do was marvel.

He muttered to himself. His control over mana is beyond anything I could ever hope to match.

Strictly speaking, Karnak wasn’t skilled in magic itself. Rather, he wielded magic as if it were necromancy. And because he handled necromancy with godlike precision, his control over magic surpassed even that of a ninth circle master.

Seriously, what kind of twisted bastard is this?

Then, a thought crossed Demphis’s mind. Did he really have to fight this monster head-on?

You think you’re the only one who can fight dirty? Let me show you something.

While continuing to pour magical pressure on Karnak, Demphis secretly selected one of his necromancer subordinates and issued a silent command.

—Your sacrifice is required.

The chosen necromancer’s eyes flickered with terror. No, please!

It was useless. His enslaved body faithfully carried out the order. The necromancer detonated, spraying toxic liquid in all directions. Just as Karnak had turned his own minion into a walking corpse bomb, Demphis had now done the same. Except this explosion wasn’t just about raw force.

It was a venom blast. The poison was strong enough to dissolve flesh on contact. Varos barely managed to leap back in time. ”Holy shit!”

Serati, too, threw herself to the ground, rolling away. ”What the hell is this!?”

Both had narrowly escaped the blast radius. As aura users, they possessed superhuman reflexes and vision. Otherwise, dodging would have been impossible.

But Karnak? Poison was notoriously difficult to block with magic. Even if he raised a mana shield, the liquid would merely slide down the surface and still reach him.

This time, he won’t escape.

Once again, Demphis’s expectations were shattered.

The moment the venom burst forth, Karnak reacted instantly. ”Come forth! Delphas!”

A horde of red-skinned demons, slightly smaller than a full-grown man, materialized in front of him. They were delpha, low-ranking demons from the underworld.

In an instant, he had cast a summoning spell. But that wasn’t what impressed Demphis the most. It was where he had summoned them. Karnak had placed the delpha precisely between himself and the exploding necromancer. The demons took the full brunt of the venom blast in his place.

”Kuaaaargh!”

”Hot! Hot! It burns!”

It was an utterly ridiculous way to die. More than half of the newly summoned demons were immediately melted alive, shrieking as they perished. But in doing so, they had completely neutralized the poison for Karnak. The few Delpha that survived let out furious roars.

And at that moment, Karnak’s voice rang out. ”There! Those bastards!”

His crimson eyes gleamed as he pointed at Demphis and the monstrous necromancers. ”They’re the ones who covered you in poison!”

It wasn’t even a lie. And because it wasn’t a lie, the demons were completely fooled.

”Kraaaah!”

The Delpha horde turned on the necromancers, launching a frenzied attack.

Wow... Demphis was genuinely impressed. This bastard’s even worse than I am.

In necromantic summoning, the key to efficiency was how well one controlled their summoned creatures. Since the demons were now attacking of their own will, fueled by their own rage, Karnak hardly had to expend any necromantic energy to sustain them.

And his reaction speed under pressure was exactly what a true necromancer would exhibit. The moment the explosion went off, he hadn’t reached for a shield spell. Instead, he had immediately summoned a meat shield instead.

And he had done it with the reflex of someone who had done it a thousand times before. Only someone who routinely used others as disposable sacrifices could react in such a way without hesitation.

He’s really one of us, isn’t he?

Demphis was so intrigued that he took a moment to study Karnak and his companions.

Serati was ordinary. She was decently righteous, decently pragmatic, and put in a decent amount of effort to do the right thing. She was a very human soul.

She’s the perfect kind of sacrifice.

Varos, on the other hand, was different. His soul was murky—not truly black like an evildoer’s, but something worse. Only someone who had committed atrocities yet felt no shame whatsoever could radiate such a color.

Even demons would hesitate to accept him. It was safe to say he was practically useless as an offering. And then there was Karnak.

Dear gods...!

Demphis was shaken. Karnak’s soul was beyond anything he had ever seen. A mesmerizing, obsidian-black gleam radiated from it. It wasn’t just dark. It was so consistently dark, so utterly stained, that it had become almost polished, refined.

It was the kind of darkness that had been perfected to the point of appearing pure. That wasn’t the soul of a sacrifice. It was the soul of one who received sacrifices!

How... how can a mere human possess such a soul...?

And in that moment, Demphis finally understood. Why this battle had dragged on for so long. Why he had been reacting rather than controlling the fight. Why, despite being a ninth circle archlich, he was constantly losing focus—his thoughts drifting away instead of locking onto the battle.

That soul, that accursed, terrifying soul was unsettling him.

Why? Why do I feel like this...?

Demphis placed a skeletal hand over his chest. It was the place where a human heart once was, now replaced by a pulsating core of ethereal blue flame.

A faint groan escaped his lips. The Mark of Contract, granted to him by the great Death God, Monarch of Death Tesranach, trembled ever so slightly.