Necromancer Of The Black Bible (2)

“Master, why did you leave a magic circle on my chest?”

“Because that is the most certain place.”

“What exactly do you mean by that?”

“That place will inevitably be drenched in blood. At that very moment, the opportunity will arise—the chance to seize eternal power.”

“Gasp!”

I awoke to the vivid sound of my master’s voice.

‘Master.’

It was the conversation we had one month before our deaths.

That day, my master offered one of his mana rings to the Demon King and carved a magic circle onto my chest.

He said it would cause the opportunity to arise.

When the moonlight seeped through the window and shone at my bedside, I finally realized it.

This was not a dream—it was reality.

“Hoo-”

The long sigh tickled the back of my hand.

I raised my hand and examined it closely.

A small, delicate palm. There were no wounds on the thin wrist.

The same was true for the rest of me.

There were no traces of severed tendons, and my neck, once gushing with blood, was intact.

And the magic circle once engraved on my chest was gone.

‘But…’

The moment I saw the date on the calendar hanging on the wall, my chest sank coldly.

It was a day about 28 years in the past.

I was now twelve years old, and today marked exactly two years since I had lived in this orphanage.

Therefore, my left leg was crippled.

‘As I thought…’

I recalled the mischievous eyes and twisted grin of the Demon King Illinas when I made my wish.

He had toyed with me even after receiving my body as an offering.

“Haah…”

The excitement I had felt earlier sank flat.

And I could see the reality before me plainly.

My crippled left leg.

My mana circles, along with all magical power and strength, had vanished.

Closing my eyes in futility, my past before the regression came vividly to mind—especially the incident where my left leg was broken, unfolding before me like a vision.

It was lunchtime that day.

This was always when hunger struck.

Because in this place, they gave us no breakfast.

And since I was beaten daily, the wounds throbbed every time I walked.

‘It feels so vivid. As if it happened just yesterday.’

Was it a side effect of returning to the past?

Or perhaps from the magical training I had done before.

To learn magic, one trains by closing their eyes and imagining the scene they wish to create.

And that imagination must be shaped within, as clearly as reality. The more detailed and vivid the visualization, the more precise and powerful the magic.

For this, I practiced whenever I had spare time, shaping every thought into as much detail as possible.

Perhaps the vision I saw now was because of this.

I could have snapped out of it, but instead I quietly observed.

Because I might find clues for planning my future.

I immersed myself back into my past self and walked slowly.

Familiar hallways and scenery came into view.

Looking now, it was warm and peaceful. Back then, I hadn’t realized how precious such things were.

As I went down to the cafeteria and stood in line, someone cut in front of me.

“This is my spot.”

When I looked up, it was Andre.

Andre, the inquisitor who severed my tendons and took my life.

At this time, Andre was three years younger than me, but bigger and stronger.

And since he always stole the other children’s rations, no one could stand up to him.

I too always had my rations stolen by him.

But that day, I resolved not to let it happen. I was simply too hungry.

That hunger and desperation even drove me to consider opposing him.

If I showed him once, perhaps he’d stop tormenting me.

He was big, but still just a kid like me.

If I steeled myself and rushed, I could land at least a couple of blows.

If I did that, I could win.

The thrill of that resolve coursed through me.

And then, Andre reached his hand out with a greedy smile.

“Hand over your lunch today. Then I’ll let you off for the day.”

I didn’t answer.

Instead, I grabbed the bread the cafeteria lady handed me and bit into it immediately.

Andre’s expression twisted at the sight.

“I’ll see you later.”

I didn’t bother to respond.

Instead, I slowly and deliberately chewed and swallowed the bread.

Sometimes there was a sharp moldy taste, but if chewed long enough, it became bearable.

After finishing the bread, I looked outside the cafeteria at Andre waiting for me.

He was chatting and laughing with his gang, pointing at me.

As he gave me a leering glance then turned back to his gang, I charged, leapt, and smashed my left knee into his face.

Thud!

Even after he fell to the ground, I didn’t stop. I mounted his chest and rained punches down.

Thud, thud, thud, thud-

The thrill of that moment surged through me.

But it lasted only briefly.

I collapsed—someone behind had struck me with a fire poker.

I remembered his name too.

Dexter.

He was the boss of this orphanage’s kids. Andre was about his left-hand man.

Dexter looked between Andre and me lying on the ground, then spoke.

“Hey, newbie. How old are you?”

I didn’t answer. Then a girl nearby spoke.

“He’s ten. The director said so yesterday.”

Queen Bee Emma. It had been over thirty years since I’d seen her, yet even her nickname came to mind.

That’s how vicious she was.

She was the power behind Dexter’s gang, and crossing her always led to disaster.

And I was one of those disasters.

Emma ordered the gang to drag me to the mountain.

Then she looked at Andre and said one line.

“I saw him knee your face earlier. Break him—so he can never do that again.”

Andre wiped the blood from his nose, picked up a large rock, and brought it crashing down on my left knee without mercy.

At that moment, I awoke from the vision.

‘Yes. That’s how it was.’

Now I remembered everything.

The ones who made me this way—their faces all came back vividly.

These were not ordinary children.

Even from the perspective of my past life as a dark sorcerer, it was so.

They were demons.

From now on, I had to plan how to deal with demons.

As the sharp pain rose again from my left knee, I recalled what they had done to me in my previous life.

Deep rage surged within me.

At the same time, something inside me snapped.

Perhaps it was something I had wanted to protect all my life.

And perhaps it was the very limit my master had always spoken of.

“To take one step further, you must abandon being human. Can you do that?”

Back then, I could not.

But now, I felt like I could.

I fell into thought.

And soon, I found the way.

The way to heal my broken leg—and to take revenge on them.

My crippled state wasn’t entirely bad.

Thanks to that, I was able to live in the infirmary for about a year and a half after becoming crippled.

Even after regressing, I was able to lie comfortably in the infirmary for half a month.

But everything changed just yesterday, when I was given crutches.

My quarters were moved to a shared room with the other children. Now, whenever I went to the cafeteria, I had to face Andre and Dexter’s gang.

Andre approached me with the same old expression and held out his hand.

The signal to hand over my bread.

Without a word, I broke off more than half of my bread and gave it to him. He nodded, patted my shoulder, and left.

I memorized the faces of Dexter’s gang.

The boss, Dexter.

His left hand, Andre.

His right hand, Revan.

The queen bee, Emma.

And most of the children they commanded, along with the adults who merely looked the other way.

Dexter’s gang occasionally messed with me, but I treated them the same as in my previous life.

I didn’t provoke them and gave them what they demanded.

Thinking of them as demons made it easier. Dark sorcerers truly deal with demons this way.

After a few days passed like this.

I made up my mind. I would leave this place.

Because the orphanage gave me nothing but half a loaf of bread a day.

I needed time of my own to prepare in earnest, and the orphanage was not a good place for that.

One moonless night, I quietly opened the orphanage window and slipped outside.

Though I leaned on crutches, I didn’t feel too inconvenienced.

The scent of freedom after a month of regression enveloped me.

Six months passed.

In that time, I roamed the forest searching for food and gathering the materials I needed.

I collected rare insects hidden under rocks and herbs effective only under moonlight.

Then I combined them to craft the necessary components.

I didn’t forget to check on the orphanage from time to time.

I even approached those unrelated to my revenge and set things in place beforehand.

All of this was difficult to carry out in a child’s body, but the rage within me helped.

I was reminded once again that anger is a powerful driving force.

Day by day, I carried on, until I had finally prepared all the materials I needed.

And then the day I had chosen arrived.

I left the cave I had been living in, carrying a leather bag filled with the materials I had prepared, and descended the mountain.

In the sky, the full moon hung in the west.

‘Coincidentally, it’s a good day.’

Today was the autumnal equinox.

The day when day and night are of equal length.

For sorcerers, the equinox is an important day.

Because on that day, yin and yang mana are in balance, allowing for more precise magical effects.

And among such days, a full moon was rare and precious. The full moon amplified mana overall, making it the perfect time to craft powerful magical tools or test spells that required great power.

‘A good day to draw a magic circle as well.’

Looking at the orphanage building, it seemed everyone was asleep.

The night guard had long since fallen asleep, so there would be no one awake here.

Leaning on my crutch, I reached into the leather bag. I felt the soft texture of the powder.

It was black mana powder used for drawing dark magic circles. Normally it gleamed red and drew suspicion, but under a full moon like tonight, it did not.

Instead, it shone a beautiful silver, making it nearly impossible for anyone to guess what it truly was.

I walked slowly around the orphanage under the bright moonlight, scattering the silver powder on the ground.

But the reason I chose today wasn’t just because the powder appeared silver.

‘Today is the day the high priest comes to fetch Andre. I cannot let this day slip by.’

Tomorrow morning, at sunrise, he will take Andre and leave for the Kallios Theocracy.

I will never allow that to happen.

And to demons, no prey is more valuable than priests. The stronger the priest’s holy power, the higher the price they pay.

The high priest sleeping here could be exchanged for exactly what I desired.

That’s right.

I intended to offer the high priest and everyone in the orphanage as sacrifices.

With that, I would heal my leg and gain power.

The eternal power my master could not obtain.