Karnak, Monarch of Death

Leven Strauss, the Martial King of Delphiad, was one of humanity’s greatest heroes before his defeat at Karnak’s hands. Like Lapicel, he had led people against the Monarch of Death’s army, becoming a persistent thorn in Karnak’s side.

—But he was a different type from Lapicel.

Lapicel was the kind of leader people bowed their heads to, saying, ”Please guide us, we will follow you!” She rarely took the initiative herself. Leven, on the other hand, was the one who would stand tall and declare, ”Follow me! I will lead you!”

— Lapicel came from common origins, while Leven was a high-ranking noble. Naturally, there was a difference.

As a member of the Strauss family, a duchy, Leven had a deep understanding of leadership and governance.

—Which is probably why he had a talent for rallying people. He’d throw a rope to those in distress, pull them up, and turn them into his subordinates. He would literally form an army from nothing.

Whether or not civilians were an effective fighting force was irrelevant. The simple act of transforming paralyzed, terrified people into allies who would stand and fight drastically altered the battlefield. When the ones to be protected became the ones who needed no protection, everything changed.

—He had a rather cunning side, in his own way.

Hearing this, Serati and Leven both looked incredulous.

—Wait, you’re saying rallying people is some kind of scheme?

—How is that underhanded?

Currently, Karnak was riding atop a golem, leading the citizens through the burning streets. Varos, Serati, Leven, and Lapicel guarded the outer perimeter, keeping watch for enemy attacks. It was too far a distance for normal conversation. But with the secrecy of telepathic magic, they could speak freely.

—He led people and showed them the path to survival, didn’t he?

—And he didn’t just stand back. He personally threw himself into the most dangerous battles.

Even in a city consumed by flames, with an undead army bearing down upon them, on the brink of total destruction, Leven had risked his own life, united everyone’s strength, and fought against evil. Was that not the very definition of heroism?

—And that’s how you choose to interpret it? No wonder people thought of you so badly, Lord Karnak.

Varos, listening in from a distance, grinned in amusement. Oh? Looks like Leven’s finally learning to argue back.

Karnak muttered, annoyed.

—I know people consider that heroic. That’s why I copied Leven. I just don’t understand why it works.

Then, after a moment, he posed a sudden question.

—Then let me ask you. Why didn’t you do it?

—What?

—Varos and I are naturally the kind of people who wouldn’t do something like that. But you two aren’t like us, are you? So why didn’t this idea ever occur to you?

—Well, that’s...

Serati and Leven hesitated. The reason was simple. They had nothing to back it up. Unlike Karnak, their circumstances were different. Even though both Serati and Leven were aura users, they were still only in their early to mid-twenties.

No matter how loud they shouted, they didn’t yet have the authority for their words to carry weight. Karnak, on the other hand, wasn’t just a powerful mage. He commanded a force of four aura users.

With no other alternatives, and his group clearly the strongest force around, people had no choice but to follow his lead. And then there was the issue of responsibility. Even as aura users and members of the King’s Order, the thought of leading an entire group didn’t come naturally.

Could they truly bear the burden of so many lives? The weight of that responsibility wasn’t easy to shoulder. Subconsciously, they hadn’t even considered the possibility. Of course, that wasn’t an issue for Karnak. Karnak wasn’t someone to even take responsibility in the first place.

—Oh, so I was supposed to feel that burden? How does one do that?

Serati let out a faint sigh. At this point, she almost felt sorry for him.

—Why is it that Lord Karnak does good things but only ever manages to sound like an asshole?

***

Bishop Waraine and his subordinates stood in an area untouched by the flames, observing the infernal hellscape that had consumed Harthol City’s southern district.

Frowning, Waraine muttered,”He’s more cunning than I thought... rallying people and turning them into meat shields...”

As expected of a necromancer, his mindset was exactly the same as Karnak’s.

One of his subordinates asked, ”What should we do, bishop?”

Their original plan had been to exhaust Karnak’s group by keeping them trapped in Infernal Hell as long as possible. If the fire demons managed to finish them off, that would be ideal. And if not, at the very least, their enemy would be too worn down to resist. Then, finishing them off would be simple.

But things were not going as expected. Karnak’s group had been using Harthol’s citizens to fight the demons more efficiently, conserving their own strength in the process.

The range of Infernal Hell’s summoning was limited to the southern district of Harthol City. At this rate, they would escape the barrier’s influence without being significantly weakened. If they made it outside, then the painstakingly summoned Infernal Hell would become completely useless.

”It can’t be helped. It’s a bit earlier than planned, but...” Waraine raised his bronze serpent staff. ”We move now!”

A shadow of black protection stretched over the heads of his followers.

The necromancers, now exhilarated, began chanting in unison.

”Tesranach watches over us!”

”There is no defeat for his chosen apostles!”

***

Karnak’s group continued to weave through the burning city, rescuing people as they went. One by one, those who had been scattered and struggling to survive joined their ranks, and before long, the citizen militia exceeded a hundred strong.

Most of them were now armed, in one way or another. Children, the elderly, and women all gripped a sword or shield. All of it had come from the skeletons’ abandoned weapons, gathered and distributed by Karnak.

”The demons are coming!”

”Fi-Fight them!”

”Don’t back down!”

Of course, they couldn’t actually defeat the fire demons. No matter how desperately an untrained hand swung a sword, what could it possibly do against a real demon? But simply standing together, forming ranks with shields and blades, was enough.

It created a formation, a barrier that allowed the warriors and mages to fight without constantly watching their backs.

”We’ll take care of those bastards!”

”Die, you demonic scum!”

With allies covering their rear, the warriors refused to retreat, enduring burns and injuries to press forward. The demons’ momentum began to wane. Even a ragtag group could become formidable simply by holding formation.

In truth, an army was its formation. If it held, half the battle was already won. Marching in unison, standing at attention, and saluting may seem like pointless rituals, but they were all just preparatory steps for maintaining formation under any circumstances.

The citizen militia had more cohesion than expected. Realizing this, the demons hesitated to charge in recklessly. Instead, they shifted tactics, resorting to ranged attacks.

The fire demons hurled flaming spears into the air. The fire imps shrieked, their mouths stretching wide as they spewed fireballs in every direction.

The mages countered immediately. ”O pure force of protection, Mana Shield!”

A shimmering barrier of magic deflected the incoming projectiles.

Karnak shouted, ”Don’t try to block them directly! Just deflect them away!”

One of the mages, batting aside a fireball, hesitated. ”But if we deflect them, won’t they just hit other buildings...?”

His concern was met with immediate ridicule from the others. ”Everything around here is already burning!”

”What difference does it make?!”

”Ah... right.”

Struggling desperately against the oncoming assault, Karnak’s militia pushed forward, steadily escaping the heart of the inferno. Finally, the flames started to thin. Thick, black smoke still filled the air, but the fire itself had not yet fully consumed this part of the city.

They had reached another plaza. Karnak’s eyes gleamed as he spotted the well in the center.

There’s still plenty of water left in that well.

With this much catalyst, he could finally use the magic he’d been holding back. Raising his wand, he chanted the incantation. ”Come forth! El Aquaria!”

The well erupted, sending a pillar of water cascading down into the plaza. The fluid began to take shape. A colossal spirit formed from flowing water, its shimmering, liquid body solidifying into the form of a giant warrior.

With a great blade of rushing currents in its grasp, the water spirit giant let out a thunderous roar. A misty veil of cooling vapor spread outward, dampening the heat and shielding the people from the oppressive inferno.

Then, the spirit charged into the sea of flames, swinging its torrent-forged great sword. It sliced through every demon in its path. But it didn’t stop there. It slammed, cleaved, kicked, grabbed, and crushed.

The city shook as explosions of water and fire clashed, sending steam and shockwaves rippling through the plaza. The dying demons let out agonized screams. With ample catalyst, the elemental giant’s power was overwhelming. The once-massive horde of demons had been reduced significantly.

We’re winning!

We can survive this!

Hope flickered in the eyes of those watching. Then, from the western sky, a jet-black spear came hurtling toward them. Like a thunderbolt, the spear pierced straight through El Aquaria’s heart.

The moment it struck, black thorns exploded outward in all directions. The elemental giant collapsed in an instant, unable to withstand the devastating internal rupture. Water erupted in every direction, crashing down in an uncontrollable torrent.

Lapicel turned her head in shock. It was taken down in a single blow?

Not once had the fire demons displayed this level of power.

Varos smirked coldly. Right... It’s about time they started crawling out.

And sure enough, a group of figures emerged through the flickering inferno of the western streets. It was Bishop Waraine of the Black God, accompanied by his necromancers.

***

The flames parted to clear a path on their own, as if alive. Men clad in robes, exuding an ominous aura, strode across the scorched stone pavement. At the forefront stood Waraine. The middle-aged man slowly swept his gaze over Karnak’s group. He had never seen them in person, but their descriptions were well-known to him.

”So you’re Baron Karnak.”

The black-haired young man responded with a leisurely smile. ”Oh? You know me? Guess I’ve gotten pretty famous.”

Waraine narrowed his eyes at Karnak’s relaxed demeanor. He became certain. There’s no way Maloka lost to someone like this.

Just as a warrior could gauge an opponent’s strength through a clash of blades, and a martial artist through the weight of a fist, as a necromancer and a sixth circle mage, Waraine could sense the level of his adversary just by facing them.

And there was no doubt. Karnak was stronger than him. But, he didn’t feel the same crushing despair when faced against an eighth or ninth circle mage.

At most... he’s at the early stages of the seventh circle. No more than that, judging by the mana he radiates.

Reassured, Waraine raised his staff. ”I’ll give you this much. You did well, bringing these helpless fools this far.”

But in the end, it was meaningless. Clinging to a foolish sense of justice would not change reality.

”You naive little children, let me teach you a truth about life.” The serpent effigy coiled at the tip of his staff gleamed, its eyes turning crimson. ”A burden will always remain a burden.”

A massive serpent’s phantom slithered across the entire plaza, spreading its shadow.

”Whisper to them, oh Beguiling Titen!”