Necromancer Of The Black Bible (129)

Laerin widened her eyes in surprise.

“You expected this?”

“Of course. It’s simple.”

Natasha shrugged her shoulders and continued.

“A unit was wiped out here today. A few who survived will report back, and then they’ll come for revenge.”

“Ah….”

Laerin nodded slowly, and Natasha watched her with a calm gaze.

She was an elf.

She was quite old in years, but not very experienced.

She didn’t seem to have met many different people and appeared unfamiliar with the world.

Yet she occasionally hit the mark.

And she did so with striking accuracy.

‘Perhaps she receives advice from someone….’

Perhaps, since she’s a spirit mage, she gets help from spirits?

Natasha smiled faintly and asked.

“How did you know? That there will be a raid at dawn tomorrow.”

“Ah, that….”

Laerin stammered, looking flustered.

Even under the moonlight, a childish flush could be seen on her pale cheeks.

Feeling as if she were looking at her little sister, Natasha posed a more teasing question.

“Can you prophesy or something? See the future…?”

“Ah, no! I can’t do that. How could I possibly see the future….”

A normal reaction.

The future is not something anyone can see.

No matter how great a mage, or even an infamous demon, can properly foresee the future.

The spirits would be the same.

‘Only the Master can do that.’

But Laerin spoke of the exact same future Damian had told her.

That meant Laerin had something—someone—guiding her.

It implied someone, like Natasha, was advising her.

Natasha looked at Laerin and opened her mouth again.

“You said the raid would begin around the third crow of the rooster tomorrow morning. Who told you that?”

“That….”

Laerin answered in a trembling voice.

“I can’t tell you.”

“Oh? Is that so?”

“It wasn’t part of the deal to begin with.”

Laerin was now meeting Natasha’s eyes.

Her gaze had taken on a sharpness unlike before.

There was also a desperate determination to protect something precious.

Natasha smiled faintly and nodded.

“Fine. I won’t ask about that. So you won’t ask what we do either. I’ll keep my promise. Understand?”

“…Yes.”

Natasha looked up at the sky.

The moon was setting now.

When she checked its position, Verdin’s voice was heard.

-We must move now.

[Alright. Let’s go.]

Natasha left the forest with Verdin.

Laerin followed them from a distance.

They left the nut pine forest and reached the village square where the large-scale slaughter had occurred.

Laerin and the surviving villagers had gathered the dead bodies there.

Laerin had intended to bury them, but Natasha stopped her and ordered the bodies to be gathered here.

Laerin didn’t understand why.

Even now, standing here with Natasha, she didn’t understand.

Natasha looked down at the corpses.

About a hundred corpses.

Among them were the soldiers of Viscount Grovebern and the massive knight who had slain many villagers.

Their bodies had been cleanly bisected by Verdin’s swordsmanship, but Natasha used magic to piece their bones together one by one.

‘Maybe I can do it this time too?’

Natasha had once raised dead horses immediately after the war with the Lord of Wraiths.

Those horses still functioned well and followed orders dutifully.

The difference now was that she would be raising dead humans.

‘I have to succeed.’

Then a voice sounded in her mind.

-Are you afraid?

It was the voice of Master Damian.

[Master.]

-Do not be afraid. Whether human or animal, once dead they are all the same.

[But… I’m afraid they won’t obey me.]

-An unnecessary worry. What you intend is Necroturgy. It is not Necromancy that summons spirits. Corpses raised by Necroturgy move only according to what that body remembers.

She had heard this explanation before.

That Necroturgy merely calls up the ‘soul’ and raises it.

Therefore, a corpse raised by Necroturgy moves only according to the body’s memories and instincts.

Recalling this, Natasha hesitated for a moment.

There was something she really wanted to ask, but she felt it would be presumptuous to do so.

But Damian, who had pierced her heart, answered.

-My goal is to destroy the Empire. To ensure it can no longer pretend to be the master of this world.

[So that is your will, Master.]

-Surprising?

[No. It is justified. It is something that must be done.]

-Is that so?

[Yes. The Empire is arrogant. It will become a threat someday.]

Natasha was the Third Princess of the Principality of Tarnia.

From childhood she had been accustomed to viewing the world through her father’s gaze.

She knew that the strong could take everything, and that the weak must kneel before the strong to survive.

And she knew exactly who her master was now and what power he possessed.

Natasha resolutely pledged her will.

[I will carry out Master’s will.]

Damian’s voice was no longer heard.

But she felt he was pleased.

At that moment, a rooster crowed.

The first crow.

Hearing it, Natasha drew the dagger at her waist, ‘Gladius Animae.’

A dagger blessed by an ancestral deity.

It was also an artifact that amplified magical power.

She plunged the dagger into the ground.

Then she knelt and placed her hands on the ground.

She felt tremendous mana flow into her heart.

‘Master….’

Natasha, feeling Damian’s power fully, cast Necroturgy.

At that moment, a green glint leaked from the black spectacles Natasha wore.

At the same time, the green mana flowing from her heart began to spread through Natasha’s hands.

The mana seeped into the ground, and runes on the blade of the Gladius Animae planted in the soil shone brightly.

The light gradually turned green and spread in all directions.

And then.

The green aura began to settle onto the corpses lying nearby.

Wooooooong*-*

The clang of the sword resonated heavily.

The vibration soon woke the nearby corpses.

Rustle-

The corpse closest to the dagger brushed away the straw that covered it.

The miner who had first stood against the knight.

His abdomen had been torn wide by a halberd, but he rose as if it mattered nothing.

It wasn’t only him.

Corpses nearby rose one by one to follow him.

The child who had been unable to flee and the mother who had stopped to protect the child.

The strong men who had rushed in, enraged by the death of that mother and child.

And even the soldiers and the massive knight who had killed them.

Thus, about a hundred corpses stood up before Natasha.

Laerin, watching from afar, couldn’t close her mouth.

But fearing she might make a sound, she clasped her small hands over her mouth.

Natasha addressed the roughly hundred corpses lined up before her.

“Advance.”

Natasha pointed with her finger toward one direction, where Verdin sat mounted on a horse.

“Follow that knight. He will be your commander.”

The corpses turned to Verdin and murmured.

Uooar*-*

Uoo*-*

Grrr*-*

Verdin rode around them in a circle, and they adjusted their direction to face him.

This meant Natasha’s command had taken effect.

Confirming this, Verdin slowly moved eastward.

That direction led to Visount Grovebern’s main stronghold, Brantstein Castle.

Natasha led her horse and approached Verdin.

[They seem a bit few in number; will that be enough?]

-It doesn’t matter. We do not die.

[Indeed.]

Natasha smiled faintly and looked back.

The corpses followed at their own paces. They showed no emotion.

They simply obeyed orders.

Brandstein Castle was bustling.

At the first crow of the rooster, soldiers had begun preparing to march all at once.

Being a border stronghold, early morning musters were common.

However, it was rare to mobilize as many as five thousand troops at once.

The soldiers showed tension at this unprecedented large-scale mobilization.

“What on earth is going on?”

“I heard the patrol that went to Silvandel Village yesterday was wiped out. They’re going for revenge, apparently?”

“Silvandel? That’s a mountain village, isn’t it? Rumors about it weren’t good.”

“Right. If all the Empire’s villains gathered there, they probably slaughtered our elite troops.”

“Aha. So that’s it.”

Death is repaid with death.

To the soldiers, it was natural.

Even if they had been rivals before, if troops from the same castle were slain, avenging them was duty and justice.

The soldiers moved in perfect order, and by the time the second rooster crowed, the entire force was lined up before the gate.

Chief of staff Konrad informed Grovebern at once, and shortly after Viscount Grovebern appeared.

Mounted on a jet-black steed with silken fur, he walked between the ranks of soldiers and looked over everyone before speaking.

“You have all heard the news. Yesterday, Silvandel Village rose in rebellion. Those rioters mercilessly slaughtered our comrades. The very ones we tried to win over by offering tribute have finally revealed their true colors. I will not stand idly by at their rebellion. Tears for tears, blood for blood; we will repay them a hundredfold of what we suffered. Let us advance to reclaim our comrades’ deaths and our tarnished honor.”

A short but powerful speech.

Viscount Grovebern’s deep voice had the power to stir the soldiers’ hearts.

Perhaps it was thanks to such power that he had been able to hold this lonely border keep until now.

Grovebern made eye contact with the five captains one by one.

They were all experts of at least Expert rank.

Among them, the commanders of the cavalry and the guard were men nearly at Swordmaster level.

Gerhardt of the Iron Wall and Krause the Red Wolf.

These two were skilled enough to handle five hundred men even without additional troops.

Grovebern looked at them and the other commanders and shouted.

“Whoever brings me the enemy commander’s head in today’s battle will receive a one-rank promotion and one thousand gold!”

“Woooooo!!!!”

The thunderous cheers shook the castle.

The guards on the ramparts even whistled as they watched.

With a satisfied expression, Grovebern turned his horse and began to march.