5. This Is Why You Play Necromancer (2)

There’s a saying that gets passed around among Necromancers.

“Well begun is half done.”

It’s supposed to mean that any task is hard to start, but once you make up your mind, it falls into place step by step.

For a Necromancer, though, a class that uses corpses as its medium, it means something else: crafting a single undead is exactly that much work.

To put it the other way around…

“Answer my call.”

The number of zombies kept climbing.
Yujin pushed deeper into the forest, bolder now.

“Kikikit.”

— Pfft! Ptt!

Darts came flying in from every direction, smeared thick with paralytic poison brewed from goblin venom glands mixed with weeds.
Even as a hail of them rained in from every clump of brush, the zombies advanced without so much as a twitch.
Poison didn’t work on the dead. Not one bit.

“Kireuk. Rotten corpse. Won’t go down.”
“Kik. Paralytic poison. Doesn’t work.”

The goblin pack set down their blowpipes and chose to charge instead.
Compared to the zombies, sluggish with rigor mortis, the goblins moved far faster.
Putting the agility of their small frames to use, they aimed for the vitals: the napes of necks, the Achilles tendons.

“Grrrk.”

The zombies, by contrast, kept it simple.
They flailed both arms, or bit down with their teeth.
And they held their own, thanks to Yujin’s superb undead-crafting technique.
Had every stat not been nearly doubled, they’d have been beaten down and toppled by the speed-driven goblin assault.

And then.

“Bone Control!”

A long staff, wreathed in a faint whitish energy, punched clean through a goblin’s chest.
This was the true worth of a Necromancer.
A chaotic battlefield was precisely where Yujin’s power peaked.

The corpse was flung back several meters and slammed into a boulder.
The force packed into Bone Control was not something a mere goblin could withstand.

“Come back to me.”

The bone staff that had buried itself in the middle of the boulder went whoosh and came flying back to its caster’s side.
A spear made from bone as a catalyst. Firing and recalling it both burned mana, but it beat making a new one each time.

“I’ve watched a whole lot of people die looking for that dignity, you know?”

“Get used to it. This is how a Necromancer fights.”

A clash of wills?
For a Necromancer, a battle like that is a luxury.
You break the enemy’s will to fight, raise their breath-stopped carcass, and desecrate even the dead man’s death.

His Constellation Lordship had better get used to it fast, too.
Otherwise he’d just keep getting front-row seats to sights no eyes should witness.

From studying Life Drain in odd moments while roaming the forest, he’d worked out a few of its properties.

From the instant of death, the life force starts draining out of the body.

Think of it like food: the moment you open the package, the expiration date starts ticking down fast.
The window’s best right after the kill, or while breath still lingers.
Once more than a minute has passed since death, the life force left in the body drops below ten percent.

Furthermore, converting life force into stats wasn’t unlimited.
The more goblin-stolen life force he absorbed, the slower the stat gains, as though he’d built up a tolerance.
There seemed to be a ceiling on how high a single species’ life force could raise his stats.

Try Life Drain on a different monster and it’ll be clear for sure.

The longer the fight dragged on, the more the zombie count grew.
The goblin pack, meanwhile, started getting cornered.

“Kireuk…”

“Answer my call.”

Tsk—.

He’d hit the ceiling on how many undead he could handle at 1st Rank.

Even with no Necromancer penalty, this is a separate matter, huh.

When you got down to it, this wasn’t an other-class penalty but a problem tied to one’s Stellar Rank.
He’d tested it on the off chance, but the result was as plain as day.

Tsk.

Just as Yujin clicked his tongue in disappointment, the goblins broke.

“Kikikit. Let’s run.”
“Kikit. Can’t beat the rotten-smelling corpses.”

The goblins whipped around and bolted in the opposite direction from Yujin.

“Chase them.”

The zombies’ stats were boosted to nearly double.
Even with their stiffened bodies, they moved at a speed close to the goblins’.
And since these were undead whose breath had already stopped, there was no tiring them out, so the outcome was obvious.

The instant the zombies had all but caught up to the fleeing goblins, a window flared.

A flaming arrow flew in from the direction of their flight and skewered a monster through the nape.
The goblin let out a death rattle, kek, and crumpled.

“Hold for a moment.”

Yujin ordered the zombies to halt their pursuit and shot a sidelong glance past the brush.

“These zombies are my summons. Quit hiding and come out.”
“I’m sorry. We didn’t realize they were prey you were hunting, so we just…”

Three Hunters pushed through the brush and stepped out.
Before the regression, word of Necromancers hadn’t gotten out to the public until several years later, so it stood to reason they wouldn’t know.

One of the Hunters, who’d worn a guarded look, gave a start.

“That guy from earlier?”

Ah.
So it was those three.
The Hunters who’d worried about Yujin right before he entered the gate.
Two men and one woman.

Yujin studied the mixed-gender party for a moment and let out a short, surprised hah.

The Mirror Hunters. I saw these guys before the regression.

Yujin’s eyes sank deep.

Kang Minho and Kang Minyeong.
Fraternal twins, freelance Hunters who’d made a name for themselves before the regression.
Hunters who toyed with their targets through uncanny coordination, as if they were a single body.

These two. They’re pretty strong.

That’s just because the twins are only 1st Rank right now.

A gate with an entry requirement of 1st Rank.
Which meant the future Mirror Hunters were beginners at the moment.
He’d crossed blades with the twins before the regression, so he knew their fearsomeness well.
By pre-regression reckoning, with Dmitri excepted, they ranked among the ten strongest foes he’d faced.

But here’s the thing.

There were three of them, not two.

The Hunters he’d run into on the other side numbered three.
He’d wondered why he hadn’t recognized them right away when they’d crossed paths before entering the gate; turned out it was because there was one more in the party.
The Hunter at the rear, wearing a troubled expression.
Looked like a Magic-line type. But rack his brain as he might, chin in hand, he couldn’t place this one.

Why would I kill them?

They were hired to assassinate me, that’s all. It wasn’t that bitter a grudge.

His only ties to the Mirror Hunters were professional.
The trouble was simply the dramatic relationship of assassin and target.
There were no real personal feelings involved.

Actually, this works out well.

I was in need of porters anyway.

If there was one thing the Mirror Hunters had, beyond doubt, it was reliability.

Their reason for taking up Hunter work was money, wasn’t it?

Just the right conditions to keep as partners.
There was an extra one mixed in that he didn’t remember, but, well, what of it.
At the very least, judging by their pre-regression track record, the two of them could be trusted.
They were Hunters who honored a contract, if nothing else.

“You lot. Do one job with me.”
“What sort of job are you suddenly talking about…”
“I’ll leave the mana-stone harvesting to you. Split’s eighty-twenty.”

Mana stones.
Since the Great Cataclysm, they’ve been the core raw material of the mana-applied Fourth Industry.
Lodged in the hearts of monsters, they’re also the central pillar of a Hunter’s income.

It’s hard work to leave to zombies.

Mana-stone harvesting required a fair amount of delicate handiwork: slicing open a monster’s chest and pulling the mineral out of it.
And laying hands on every single monster corpse after the hunt was over didn’t pencil out.
Doing Life Drain and then dissection on top of it would tank the hunting speed enormously.

“I handle the hunting entirely. You make the money.”

A pretty good offer, don’t you think?

At Yujin’s parting words, the team of three 1st-Rank Hunters, [the Scraps], couldn’t hide their flustered looks.

Two members of the Scraps, Kang Minyeong and Lee Seongmin, kept stealing pale-faced glances at the zombies.

“Big Bro. What is that guy saying?”
“Senior Kang. I never heard of no Hunter who keeps zombies as familiars.”

Pupils as lifeless as a pollack’s eyes.
Drool dripped steadily from their gaping mouths.

Zombies, the lowest grade of undead.
Squaring off against monsters said to move on nothing but hostility toward the living drained the energy right out of you, just standing there.

“Let’s do it.”
“You serious?”
“Yeah. He doesn’t seem to be lying.”

Kang Minho was quick to read a situation.
If Yujin had meant to jump the Scraps, there’d have been no reason to go to the trouble of floating a proposal.

Mana-stone harvesting is a lot of hands-on work. He means to dump the tedious job on us.

After a few exchanges and a look at the circumstances, Kang Minho read Yujin’s intent.
The kind of judgment that would, in time, earn him the renown of the alias [Mirror Hunter].
His pulse was jumping, but he kept his face steady and spoke.

“That split. Is the eighty ours?”
“Twenty.”
“Make it fifty-fifty. Even then, split between us it’s one-point-seven each.”
“Seventy-thirty. Anything more than that, go on your way.”
“Understood.”

When Kang Minho accepted Yujin’s proposal, Lee Seongmin shot a glance ahead.

“Senior. This really gonna be okay?”

A grumble that leaked out in a small voice.
The zombies moved their rigor-stiffened bodies so awkwardly that, watching them, Lee Seongmin couldn’t help thinking they looked several times more dangerous than the goblin pack they’d just put down.

“Trust me. If he meant to jump us, he’d have done it long ago.”

Kang Minho answered calmly.

Entering a gate bare-handed, without a single proper piece of equipment.
Absolute confidence in his own skill.
He figured that moving according to Yujin’s proposal would earn them more money than usual.

Thirty minutes later.

“That Hunter. Is he trying to wipe goblins off the face of the earth?”
“Who cares. Let’s just call this a real big score for once.”

One hour later.

“Wow. Here come more of them. Guess the Garden of Antiquity really isn’t popular.”

Yujin wore a broad grin as he watched the goblins popping up one after another.
The Scraps, on the other hand, had aged about twenty years.

“…Hhuk. Hek.”
“Just kill me instead. I want to rest.”

Kang Minho shook his head from side to side as he looked at his teammates.

I didn’t think he was an ordinary guy, but.

A staggering hunting speed.
He butchered the goblins without giving them a moment to catch their breath, and the Scraps couldn’t hold up.

“Why don’t you take a little break instead of pushing yourselves?”
“There’s mana crystals rolling around over here, too.”
“…”
“Ah. I’m not pressuring you. It’s just that there’s money lying tossed on the ground, is all.”

Yujin grinned.
To the eyes of the Scraps, that grin felt more terrifying than anything.

“I’m not pushing you, so take it slow, nice and easy.”

Even in that moment, the goblin corpses piled up one by one.

Yujin tossed the bone-dry goblin corpse to the ground.

“This one’s the last around here.”

Three hours into the hunt.
In that short span, his stats had shot up considerably.

A grand total of 21.2!
Converted, he’d gained the equivalent of four levels’ worth of figures through Life Drain.

“Wow.”

A cheer slipped out between his lips.
Even Yujin, who’d amassed all manner of experience before the regression, had a hard time holding back his admiration.
The bonus stats he’d gained from leveling up weren’t even invested, and it was already this much.

Makes me curious just how strong I can get.

Inside Yujin’s head was the experience and knowledge from before the regression, too.
The Constellation he’d erected by burrowing into the flaw of its self-worship, the one that defies death.
Thinking of the new holy spells that would be added each time Kronos grew stronger, an ambitious fire boiled up in his heart.

Repeatedly absorbing goblin life force did dull the efficiency bit by bit.
But he wasn’t disappointed.
Wanting more than this would be the greed of a highway robber.

Cutting down goblins left and right as he pressed on, he reached the edge of the forest.

“Um, Hunter, sir.”
“Call me Yujin.”
“Past this boundary is the territory of the boss monster, the Goblin Shaman.”
“If you want to pull back, now’s the time. I’ll pay you fair for the work you’ve done so far.”

He’d come this deep into the forest to level up, sure.
But to trigger the hidden element of the Garden of Antiquity, he had to get his hands on the shaman’s blood.

“You for real?”

Lee Seongmin replied with a bright expression.
Just turning back from here, they could collect a payout in the tens of millions of won.
The number of goblins they’d hunted over the past three hours was into the hundreds, so even taking just ten percent was an enormous profit!
The Goblin Shaman ranked in the upper tier of difficulty even among 1st-Rank gates.
Pulling out with no risk and still coming out ahead. A winning deal.

But.

“I’ll follow you.”

Kang Minho answered in a clear voice.

This man. If we stick with Yujin, we can make far bigger money.

Of that he was certain.
The Garden of Antiquity, accessible only at 1st Rank.
How many Hunters of the very same Stellar Rank could wield power this outrageous?
And mana-stone harvesting was hardly difficult work.

Which is exactly why we have to follow him.

Yujin read the thought, snorted a laugh, and sent the zombies forward.

Goblins gathered in the middle of the plaza.
Unlike the ones he’d met so far, around seventy fully-armed goblins were massed together.
Behind them sat a goblin adorned all over with bones, perched on a chair; look closely, and even its accessories were all bone-material.
The staff it held was black, and from a distance there was no telling what it was made of.

The boss monster of the Garden of Antiquity’s southern region. The Goblin Shaman.

“Behold. A foolish human has come.”
“Kik kik. A foolish goblin trusting in nothing but its numbers.”
“What was that?”
“Right, what’s the deal. You got some kind of bone fetish? You’d reek worse than a zombie.”

Yujin clamped his nose shut with his right hand.

“In-insolent human!”
“Insolent goblin. You can’t even talk straight, and you want to fight with your mouth?”

The Goblin Shaman, apparently at a loss for words, worked its mouth open and shut, then kicked its chair away as it rose to its feet.

“Bring that human to me on his knees.”
“Kikikit!”

The goblin troop came racing forward, jostling to be first.
The ones who can’t win a war of words are always the first to lose their tempers like that.

“Devour him, bones and all.”

The moment Yujin’s order dropped, twenty zombies erupted in ferocity.