Karnak, Monarch of Death

Meanwhile, Beltia continued pushing Desteran and Varos back with relentless pressure. She floated effortlessly as golden light radiated from her in waves.

Desteran managed to endure the onslaught of fierce golden aura. He looked as if he could collapse at any moment, but somehow he avoided every fatal blow.

”Your chain blade is as annoying as ever,” Beltia muttered, clicking her tongue. ”You look like you’re about to fall, but you always manage to slip away.”

It was a comment that hovered somewhere between acknowledgement and dismissal.

Covered in blood, Desteran grit his teeth. You think my swordplay is just about running away?

Desteran’s chain blade was crafted for deception, evasion, and misdirection. It was widely recognized across the continent as one of the most elusive and dangerous sword styles. And yet she had the nerve to dismiss it as little more than a desperate dodge?

Damn it all!

However, pride could only carry him so far. The gap in strength was too great. In fact, if Desteran had been alone, he wouldn’t have lasted this long. Varos launched another slash from the opposite side.

Reversal Blade: Raging Tempest!

A torrent of fierce silver aura surged forward, carrying a strange, swirling current of energy.

Beltia narrowed her eyes. This one is certainly unusual.

At a glance, it looked like any other sword technique. But interwoven within it was a precision of aura manipulation that even a martial king like her found impressive. It was a perfect blend of natural flow and unique intricacy, fused in harmony.

It doesn’t feel like I’m fighting a silver knight.

And yet, he wasn’t holding back either. It felt more like she was facing a former martial king, one whose body had deteriorated to the point of no longer being able to manifest gold aura. Perhaps that was why Beltia hadn’t managed to take their heads just yet. Of course, that didn’t mean they posed any threat. She was never in the slightest bit of danger.

Beltia murmured to herself. ”What a pity. That warriors like you must die rejecting the one true god.”

She shook her head in regret. ”If it were up to Tesranach, he would have found great use for you both.”

Desteran flared up with outrage. ”And how can you, of all people, be so blind as to fall into a heretical cult?”

Varos found the whole exchange a little surreal. Here they were, cursing each other and calling each other heretics.

They’re both cultists. Neither of them has anything to do with a ”true god.”

Still, there was no point in saying that aloud.

Suddenly, a question surfaced in his mind. Why did Beltia join the Cult of the Black God?

Desteran’s reasons for joining the Twilight Cult were understandable, if only in his own absurd way. At least there had been a personal logic to it. But what about her?

The answer came sooner than expected. Whatever Desteran had said must have hit a nerve, because Beltia snapped. ”Silence! Tesranach is the one true God of Death!”

Then, like a woman possessed, she began to shout. ”When he descends, a new world will begin! That child will return to me!”

That child? Desteran didn’t understand her comment.

But Varos did. Ah. So that’s it.

In the original timeline, Beltia should still have been wandering the continent at this point. Eventually, she would have met a young girl named Lapicel, taken her in as a disciple, and raised her in seclusion for nearly a decade, molding her into a martial king. Yet, in this version of events, Karnak had taken Lapicel under his wing before that could happen.

So Beltia likely never even met her. Instead, during her wandering, she must have come into contact with the Cult of the Black God, an organization whose doctrine promised the arrival of a new world and the resurrection of the dead.

Varos wondered. Did they lure her in by promising she could see her daughter again?

It was entirely possible. In her past life, Beltia had overcome the grief of her daughter’s death by taking in Lapicel. But in this world, that wound remained wide open. Perhaps the cult had targeted that vulnerability, or perhaps she had gone to them willingly, in desperation.

With a crazed cry, Beltia swept her aura blade wide. Golden light erupted outward, blanketing the battlefield in raw, destructive force. The earth trembled beneath the ferocity of her strike.

Through the rising dust and smoke, her voice echoed—low, grim, and haunted. ”When the world changes... when he comes, that child will return to my arms. ”

Her voice was drenched in desperation. Her eyes held the gaze of a mother who had lost her daughter. They gleamed with madness. ”I will cut down anyone who stands in the way!”

***

Karnak was faring well compared to the brutal clash against Beltia. No matter how much the necromancers enhanced themselves, they couldn’t match Leven or Serati. And with Karnak’s domination over the Wiq-Tekka, combined with Milia’s divine magic pressing down on them, the tide was clearly in their favor.

Lapicel might have been underperforming for some reason, but overall, Karnak’s group held the advantage. Still, the battle wasn’t ending.

”Damn it!” Serati cursed as she swung her aura blade.

A burst of blue energy severed the leg of a necromancer. The necromancer screamed in agony as he rolled across the ground, yet he stood up again. A dark substance began to rise from the severed stump of his leg. Simultaneously, a mass of blood-red flesh swelled up, forming a new leg.

”He’s regenerating again,” muttered Serati.

That was the problem. It wasn’t particularly difficult to bring the necromancers down. But they kept getting back up after they were downed. They recovered from their injuries with absurd speed.

No, technically, it’s not regeneration, is it? I see; this is what Lord Karnak mentioned.

To be precise, it was the power of darkness patching the wounds. As each part of the body was lost, it essentially died and began to turn undead. In their past life, Karnak and Varos had said most of their bodies had turned undead. This must’ve been what they meant. Well, compared to living as a cripple with no limbs, it made sense that moving around in a dead body was the better option.

At any rate, because of this, even though Karnak’s group clearly held the advantage, the situation wasn’t improving. The necromancers continued their relentless assault, and Karnak’s companions were constantly scrambling to defend Diogres and his barrier.

In the middle of fending off a necromancer, Leven shouted, ”Master Diogres! How much longer?”

It was a not-so-subtle way of asking, ”Isn’t it about time you finish restoring the seal and unleash your archmage powers already?” Of course, Diogres desperately wanted to do just that. However, as with all things in life, things rarely went as planned.

Although he hated to admit it, especially to the companions fighting so hard for his sake, their valiant efforts didn’t actually help much in restoring the barrier. The array was crafted to allow high-level spells to be cast with only 4th-circle magic.

To use an analogy, it was like having a hundred extremely intricate pocket watches all connected and working in perfect harmony. If even one gear slipped, the whole system broke down. In this case, it wasn’t just one gear. Dozens of gears had been shattered or knocked out of place.

Too much of the array had collapsed. Even without any further interference, it would take at least an hour to fully restore. And right now, it was continuing to break in real time. Yet how could he turn to those fighting tooth and nail for him and tell them that their efforts were useless and in vain?

Luckily, Leven picked up on it first. ”Is it impossible to restore?”

”Yes... it is.”

Diogres’s answer was all Karnak needed to make a decision. ”Forget it. Let’s fall back!”

”But the dragon bone... There’s no other...!” Diogres shouted.

They would have to go all the way to the Dragon Land. Even for Karnak, making it to the far eastern end of the continent while dodging the cult’s pursuit was a tall order.

Karnak shouted back, ”There’s a dragon bone in the Seven Kingdoms too!”

”There is?!” Diogres asked.

”Yes!” Karnak said.

Diogres blinked. Come to think of it, even the Tower of Dawn had very little information about the western half of the continent.

”In that case...!” Seeing a sliver of hope, Diogres immediately pulled his hands from the formation.

Leven and Lapicel repositioned themselves to protect him. Serati, too, approached Karnak, whispering cautiously.

—Is that true?

—No.

Her face immediately soured. Figures.

Still, Karnak hadn’t lied without a backup plan.

—There’s a way to get some. So technically, it’s not a lie. The real problem is over here.

As long as a dragon bone could eventually be acquired within the Seven Kingdoms, the claim wasn’t entirely false. Karnak glanced toward the necromancers of the Cult of the Black God.

—We said we’d retreat, but they’re not going to just let us leave.

He was glancing at the immense flow of darkness writhing at their feet.

***

Beltia frowned while relentlessly pressing Varos. What are they planning?

It was because she had spotted Diogres and Karnak’s group retreating, yet she did not break away from her position. If she had been the type to turn her back on enemies mid-battle just because the situation became urgent, she never would have earned the title of martial king in the first place.

Instead, she took a slight step back and raised her voice. ”Is it ready yet?”

Her sudden question left Varos and Desteran confused. But the necromancers of the Black God’s Cult seemed to understand immediately.

”It... it is ready!”

”Holy Sword of the Church!”

”All preparations are complete!”

The necromancers ceased their attacks on the barrier and began withdrawing in succession.

Beltia gave them a scathing glare. ”You couldn’t have done this from the beginning?”

The necromancers closest to her responded defensively, as if making excuses.

”It couldn’t be helped. Unlike traditional magic...”

”Necromancy requires a gradual build-up in power...”

”Preparing it in advance is essential.”

Their conversation was audible even from a distance. At least, Karnak could make out their words by reading their lips. So it begins.

Unlike before, not even Karnak could read their technique just by sensing the flow of darkness.

These cultists were no different from the others who served the Black God. Their necromantic energy was blended with other forces, making it impossible to predict through ordinary means. Still, they were necromancers. And Karnak knew that necromancer battle patterns were surprisingly formulaic.

As expected, a thunderous rumble shook the air as a massive darkness surged upward. The rising gloom filled the surroundings, and black clouds formed walls that enclosed the area from all sides and stretched up to cover the sky. In the blink of an eye, the darkness formed a massive dome, completely engulfing the area.

Serati and Leven were startled, and turned toward Karnak.

”Lord Karnak?!”

”What is this...?!”

Karnak gave a soft smile.

”What else?” There was something oddly expectant about the way he looked at them. ”We’ve been trapped.”