Karnak, Monarch of Death

It had been fifteen days since the imperial army suffered a devastating defeat after marching to the capital. Disturbing rumors were spreading throughout the empire. Stories of Thea Krahan reduced to ash, of citizens turned into zombies, of enormous dragons blanketing the skies.

But it wasn’t just rumors that were spreading. Monsters had begun to surge across the continent. The black god’s army, having left the capital, now rampaged across the empire.

Demons from the underworld appeared, and countless dragons took to the skies, setting the world ablaze. For emperor Gottfried II, who had waited desperately for news of victory, it was a waking nightmare. “What of Lord Karnak? What has become of him? What in heaven’s name is happening to the world?”

***

Just as Karnak had assured, Lapicel awoke safely the next day. Whatever technique he had used, it must have been masterful. There were no side effects to speak of. She polished off a bowl of porridge the moment she opened her eyes and recovered her strength right away.

After that, Karnak’s group remained in the village of Zident for some time. They couldn’t leave anyway. They had to wait for the others to arrive.

Each of them spent their time resting or refining their swordsmanship and magic. Though they were living in hiding, the entire village was essentially an ally, so they were free to move about as they pleased.

Lapicel, too, often wandered into the nearby woods to hone her swordsmanship. Beneath leaves beaded with morning dew, the ash-haired girl drew her sword. A silver aura wrapped gently around the blade as she exhaled softly.

She began a light training sequence. Elegant swordplay flowed through her small frame.

She slashed, stabbed, swept, withdrew, struck, and redirected, each motion accompanied naturally by silver aura. It was hard to believe she had only just reached the rank of silver knight. The flow was too natural, almost unnaturally so.

After all, she was barely in her mid-teens. It was impossible for someone so young to be so skilled. With a sigh, Lapicel readjusted her stance. In that moment, twelve flashes of light gleamed around her.

Tascal Swordsmanship: Twelvefold Slash!

The illusionary flurry of swordlight vanished soon after. Lapicel frowned, eyes fixed on the silver blade energy lingering on her sword. By now, she knew.

This wasn’t the Tascal style, nor was it something she had developed herself. She had seen it in a dream. A different version of herself had been performing this very technique.

Crotium Swordsmanship: Blooming Rose.

It was a strange dream. Why was she wielding the sword of Beltia the martial king? Lately, those strange dreams were growing more vivid. The version of herself in the dreams appeared much older, and she was pouring pure hatred onto a far older Karnak.

—Eternal Evil!

She fought him, again and again, ceaselessly.

—Cursed Monarch of Death!

She lost, fled, and rose again to challenge him.

—Humanity shall never kneel!

And at the final moment, just as a hand of darkness seized her body and soul whole, she always awoke. As if to say she must never see what lay beyond.

What in the world is this...? Her thoughts swirled in confusion. Why do I keep having these dreams?

As if to shake it off, Lapicel swung her sword once more. A fierce aura-blade swept across the verdant forest once again. A silver ripple exploded outward, sending dew-laden leaves fluttering from the branches.

Beyond them, a familiar voice rang out. “So it was you, Lapicel?”

A handsome blond youth emerged shortly after. “The energy felt strange. I thought I had come to the wrong village.”

Turning to face him, Lapicel gave a soft smile. “So it’s you, Sir Leven.”

Leven Strauss froze in place. “Lapicel?”

That expression—he’d seen it once before. That presence—he’d experienced it already. The one standing before him was the Martial King of Cyphras, the one who had appeared during their battle against the Fallen Pope, Jedex.

Ah. No wonder something felt off!

He had all the reason to be nervous, despite having done nothing wrong. The Martial King of Cyphras would find it an unforgivable sin to be Karnak’s subordinate.

Thinking Karnak must’ve done something again, Leven began reaching for the sword at his waist, but the ash-haired girl ran up to him with a bright smile. “I’m so glad you’re safe, Leven.”

Her expression had changed. She was just plain old Lapicel again. Breaking into a cold sweat, Leven let his hand fall away from his sword. “Geez... Don’t scare me like that.”

“Scare you like what?”

***

Leven was the last to arrive. By then, Dios, Drel, and Milia had already joined the group in Zident Village. It was only a three-day journey, yet they had taken so long for a reason.

The area near the capital had already become a wasteland thanks to the army of the Black God. And with Tesranach’s descent, it had turned into a literal hell on earth. In other words, the place was filled with people in need of rescue.

Once they had safely escaped, Karnak’s absolute order had expired. Now that they were thinking clearly again, there was no way they could simply ignore the people in danger and walk past them.

So although they made their way toward Zident as planned, they kept veering off course along the way. If monsters appeared nearby, they stepped in to slay them. If a dragon flew overhead, they saved whoever was being attacked. If the Black God’s army emerged, they fought them off.

Milia, in particular, had remained in her angelic form throughout the escape. She couldn’t return to human form until she reunited with Karnak. And since she looked like an actual angel, every passerby had clung to her, begging desperately to be saved.

Because of all the detours, a journey that should have taken three days ended up taking nearly two weeks. After hearing the explanation, Leven sighed in relief. “So, in other words, I wasn’t the only one who arrived late, right?”

“Drel arrived three days ago. Dios and Milia showed up yesterday. You being the last to get here just means you were the biggest softie of the bunch.”

Arriving last, of course, also meant Leven had spent the most time held up saving people. Leven gave a bitter smile at Karnak’s remark.

“A softie, am I?”

“What else would you call someone who runs around taking losses to help strangers for no reason?”

Serati nodded, backing up Karnak’s mocking tone. “Of course. A real person should live like Lord Karnak, calculating every gain and loss to perfection. That’s how you end up ruling death, turning into a skeleton, and not even being able to enjoy the taste of food, right?”

Karnak clammed up. Normally, he’d have snapped back no matter what, but something about her words struck a chord. In any case, with everyone gathered, it was time to decide what to do next. The group convened in the safe house.

“So, what now?”

Dios made a suggestion. “First, how about we return to His Majesty the emperor?”

Despite his cuter appearance, he was still a loyal servant of the empire. Given the state of things, he couldn’t help but worry about the emperor’s safety.

Karnak didn’t look too keen. “Don’t think he’s going to say anything nice if we show up.”

To prevent Tesranach’s descent, Karnak had scattered the Shadow of Doom across the world at the cost of plunging the empire into danger. And yet, the darkness had spread anyway, and Tesranach had descended regardless.

“Sure, we stopped him from descending as the God of Death, so there’s that. But I doubt the emperor will understand.”

From the emperor’s point of view, it could look like Karnak had lied and acted on behalf of the Black God’s Cult all along. “What if he throws a fit and demands my head the moment I walk in?”

Serati pouted. “It’s not like you’d let yourself be executed anyway, so what’s the point of bringing that up?”

If that situation really came to pass, it’d probably be the emperor who lost his head, not Karnak. Still, the fall of the emperor wouldn’t be good either. The empire still needed a central figure to rally around.

Karnak made a suggestion. “Can’t we try to persuade him?”

Serati frowned. She knew too well Karnak’s method of ‘persuasion’. “Persuade? You say?”

“What, you expect me to give him an actual speech?”

“Let’s save that as a last resort.”

Drel and Dios glanced between Karnak and Serati, confused. They still didn’t fully understand what Karnak’s “persuasion” entailed.

And so, the proposal to return to the emperor was dismissed for the time being. There was no real benefit to going, and doing so now might only create more division in their already strained situation.

Karnak asked, “Any other suggestions?”

The group exchanged glances in silence. No one had a clear solution. Then Varos, staring at Dios in his childlike form, seemed to think of something. “Young master, something just occurred to me.”

“What is it?”

“Are we sure the dragon emperor went down so easily?”

“You saw him get taken over by Tesranach yourself. Why ask now?”

“No, I mean...” Varos gestured to the small child who held the soul of a great archmage. “Think about Master Dios’s case.”

Diogres Kolon hadn’t been a necromancer, and he hadn’t prepared anything ahead of time. Yet he’d still managed to escape by extracting his soul.

“We’re talking about the dragon emperor. You really think he just let himself get devoured?”

Karnak’s expression turned serious. “You’ve got a point.”

Of course, Diogres and Grateria were in completely different situations. Only the soul of Diogres Kolon had returned to this era. In contrast, Tesranach had descended into this era as a Monarch of Death, before seizing the dragon emperor’s body.

“In theory, even someone like Grateria wouldn’t be able to interfere with that.”

Still, it was well worth checking. Perhaps the dragon emperor’s soul had truly been devoured. Even then, it was fine. There was nothing to lose by trying.

“Besides, it’s not like we have anything better to do right now.”

***

In the basement of the safehouse, usually reserved for storing food in preparation for winter, Karnak had begun assembling an altar.

He drew symbols in animal blood and arranged catalysts of darkness, laying the foundation for necromancy. Black currents seeped out each time and flowed into the altar.

The rest of the group stood behind him, watching. What was different from usual was that Lapicel was also watching Karnak prepare his necromancy.

Leven sent a message via telepathy.

—You’re just going to cast necromancy right in front of Lapicel now? Are we really doing this?

Varos and Serati replied with equally dumbfounded expressions.

—Surprisingly enough, yes.

—That’s not necromancy, actually.

—What?

Even Lapicel herself was confused. It’s definitely not necromancy... I can feel mana... But everything he’s doing is exactly the same as necromancy...

Karnak had finally completed the fourth technique in his Necromancy series. This was a spell that used chaos mana as fuel to directly cast necromantic effects, Executor of Necromancy.

Of course, using magic alone to fully mimic all forms of necromancy was impossible. Truly wicked and powerful techniques were still out of reach. But he had succeeded in replicating indirect necromantic arts, like summoning spirits or soul-calling rituals.

—This is a spell that produces the same effects as necromancy using mana alone! Therefore, it’s totally legitimate!

That was Karnak’s official stance.

Leven, naturally, knew it was one of Karnak’s Necromancy spells. He could sense the mana composing the spell as well.

—But isn’t that still necromancy, in the end? If you’re going to go this far, why not just use actual necromancy?

It was like claiming it wasn’t murder because you beat someone to death with a club instead of stabbing them with a knife. Karnak replied proudly.

—Because this one doesn’t impact my sense of taste, no matter how often I use it!

—Ah, well, that is important.

Meanwhile, the black energy settled steadily into the altar. Soon, the blood-drawn symbols around the altar began to emit a faint glow.

Karnak raised both hands. At his fingertips, the power of soul-calling, formed of chaos mana, pierced the air and reached outward. “I, borrowing the authority of death, consecrate this place. Come forth, soul of the great dragon!”