Necromancer Of The Black Bible (25)

Gentle eyes and a warm expression.

And a thick silver beard covering his jaw.

It was unmistakably Raiernov.

Sanchez shouted in joy.

“Father!”

But Raiernov did not answer—he only looked their way.

His gaze was stiff, his expression tense.

‘Does he not recognize me?’

Sanchez threw back his hood and stepped closer.

“Father, it’s me—Sanchez.”

“Ah. It’s you?”

At last Raiernov nodded and smiled.

He looked at Sanchez and Mobin behind him and asked:

“Did the two of you come alone?”

“Ah, yes.”

Sanchez quickly gestured for Mobin to come closer.

When he approached, Sanchez introduced him to Raiernov.

“This one is my disciple. I’ve been teaching him for two years.”

“Hello, Father. I am Apprentice Investigator Mobin.”

Mobin bowed his head in greeting.

Raiernov received the greeting with calm eyes, then spoke.

“But what brings you here?”

“Well… we heard word that you had gone missing…”

“Ah.”

Raiernov nodded in understanding.

“Quite some time has passed—it’s only normal. You must have worried much.”

“Yes, Father. The village chief of Hainche sent word urgently, so we were dispatched here.”

“Hm. They must have been quite alarmed.”

Sanchez nodded, studying Raiernov’s eyes.

His gaze was somewhat different from before.

Deeper. Sharper.

It had been five years since they last met.

It seemed he had grown through much in those years.

And to have faced not one but two Sand Dragons here and lived—Raiernov’s renown would surely soar.

Sanchez smiled warmly and spoke.

“Say no more, Father. I feared you might have met with misfortune.”

“Misfortune, you say.”

Raiernov shook his head and continued.

“At my age, death would not be strange. It is stranger still that I yet live.”

“Do not say such things. Father, you must live long.”

Sanchez chuckled playfully, then looked at the boy standing behind Raiernov.

The boy was raggedly dressed, about as tall as Raiernov’s chest—and strange.

His bluish eyes were unusual, and his face was void of expression.

‘How can a child wear such an expression?’

A face without emotion meant trauma so severe it had crushed expression itself.

Sanchez himself had once been called “the boy without expression” in childhood.

So he easily guessed this child’s identity.

“This boy must be Andre.”

At his words, Raiernov’s eyes flickered.

“You even know that?”

“I merely guessed. Before leaving the Theocracy, I asked the adoption office, and they said you had come here to adopt this boy, Andre.”

“You are quite thorough.”

“It’s all what you taught me, Father.”

“Ah, is that so?”

When Raiernov asked back, Sanchez began to laugh, and Raiernov joined him.

It was truly fortunate.

Raiernov and his adopted child both lived.

Then Mobin cautiously spoke.

“Um… Father.”

“Hm?”

“What of the others evacuated from the orphanage? Are they safe?”

Raiernov smiled faintly and nodded.

“They were evacuated safely. I instructed the headmaster never to come this way—they will have managed well.”

“I see.”

“I knew Father would have made arrangements.”

Sanchez beamed and continued.

“Let us return now. I’ll report this to headquarters to be handled.”

“Ah, but before that—could you take these with you?”

Raiernov pointed to the ground, where a full suit of armor and a sword lay.

The armor was so massive only a giant could wear it, and the sword beside it exuded a chilling aura.

“I discovered these while investigating after slaying the Sand Dragon. I felt I should examine them myself.”

“They certainly seem unusual.”

Sanchez inspected them, then asked Mobin.

“You brought the bag, yes?”

“Yes.”

“Put all of these inside.”

Then Raiernov added:

“That sword reeks of dark mana. Be careful.”

“Of course.”

Mobin took out white gloves and carefully slipped them on.

These gloves held the protective power of Kallios, God of Light.

The wearer was shielded from all corruption, including dark mana.

Wearing the gloves, Mobin opened the bag slung over his back.

It looked small, but inside it was vast, enchanted by artificers with expansion magic to store anything that could fit through the opening.

Mobin deftly widened the mouth of the bag and placed the armor and sword inside.

Once everything was inside, the bag returned to its original size.

“Ungh!”

Mobin hefted the bag with difficulty.

The enchantment reduced volume, not weight—Mobin always struggled with this.

“It’s incredibly heavy.”

“Bear with it. Just until we reach the carriage.”

At Sanchez’s encouragement, Mobin nodded and carried it toward the entrance.

Sanchez turned to Raiernov and his companions.

“Let’s be off, Father. There’s much I wish to ask you.”

And so they left the underground cavern.

From the flowing lava river, a small young Sand Dragon watched them.

Following Sanchez, investigator of the Kallios Theocracy, two thoughts plagued me.

‘Should I kill them here?’

‘Or enslave them?’

Honestly, it was sheer luck they had made it this far.

Before they arrived, I sensed something strange about their aura.

Sharp, but not overpowering.

It felt less like they wanted to kill something and more like they were probing.

And I could feel that peculiar atmosphere only people of the Kallios Theocracy carried.

It manifested as a golden light to my eyes, and I knew immediately they were investigators sent by the Theocracy.

The question was why investigators had come this far—but Nocturne pointed it out sharply.

Probably because Raiernov went missing.

As soon as I heard that, I quickly cast Transformation Magic.

I took Raiernov’s form, and William I disguised as Andre.

Honestly, transforming William into Andre was a bit of a hassle.

He was wearing massive armor and carried a demon sword.

Transforming such gear required far more complex spellwork, so I ordered him to put them aside.

Had the investigators walked any faster, I might have had to release William’s necromancy entirely.

Fortunately, everything after that flowed smoothly.

I coaxed their answers, drew out the situation clearly, and adapted to it.

[But what do you intend? Is there any need to follow them?]

Equinox wanted to eliminate them from the start.

But my thinking was different.

The only reason I was acting this charade was to infiltrate the Theocracy without bloodshed.

‘Because the Theocracy is deeply tied to my master as well.’

One day in my past life, my master had told me about his past.

‘Back when my wife and daughter still lived, I was in the Theocracy. I lived under the blessing of the God of Light. Everything was perfect then.’

But his family soon collapsed.

The so-called “Great Witch Hunt.”

It began with a string of murders in the Theocracy.

The investigating tribunal declared it the work of witches and summoned every woman in the Theocracy for interrogation.

My master’s wife was executed in those trials, and from then he lived in seclusion.

A seclusion he began with his daughter.

He wandered the Empire and beyond, seeking ways to revive his wife.

That pursuit inevitably led him to black magic, and in under ten years he reached the 7th circle in Black Magic and the 6th in Necromancy.

He lost his daughter along the way as well.

‘That was the level he had reached when I first met him at the orphanage…’

Counting back, this would be about the time my master lived in the Theocracy.

If the Great Witch Hunt had not yet begun, then he would still be living happily with his family.

I stared at the back of Sanchez’s head in front of me.

‘I’ll have to ask later.’

There was no need to rush.

I could find out once we were inside the Theocracy.

All I wanted was to meet my master of this era.

‘But if I do meet him… what then?’

Thinking of all he had done for me in my previous life, I wanted to give him anything—his peace, his happiness.

But is that truly what he would want?

He had given me the chance to pursue eternal life.

Should I help him achieve the eternal life he longed for back then?

Or should I help him obtain what he wants now?

The master before my regression and the master now may want different things. I couldn’t decide.

‘What should I do…?’

My musings shattered the moment we stepped outside the cave.

For I saw my lair in ruins.

Bones and Sand Dragon scales scattered everywhere.

I had collected a few, but many were too precious to leave—some impossible to abandon.

“Sanchez.”

“Yes, Father.”

“I need to gather some belongings here. There are items I’d like to study further.”

“Of course.”

Sanchez nodded obediently, and I moved slowly but deliberately.

I gathered most of the dragon scales and placed the book Equinox had once inhabited into my leather satchel.

I collected the herbs I had gathered earlier as well.

All that remained were the bones of the orphanage people.

I spoke to Sanchez.

“These bones must belong to those eaten by the Sand Dragon. Could you perform a simple requiem for them?”

“A requiem?”

“If pressed for time, it’s fine.”

“No, no—I can do it.”

Sanchez ordered Mobin to gather the bones.

I sat and watched their work.

Every monk of the Theocracy could perform a requiem.

It was said that corpses purified by the rite would have their dark energy washed away.

[You’re erasing the traces.]

[Exactly. If they found lingering mana during investigation, it’d be troublesome.]

The Theocracy’s investigators were notorious for being as meticulous as inquisitors.

They missed no detail, chasing questions to the bitter end.

Since I was set on deceiving them to infiltrate the Theocracy, I had to erase all risk of later trouble.

‘Though I don’t know how long I can keep this up.’

The requiem ended quickly.

Kneeling before the bones Mobin had piled, Sanchez prayed heavenward, and a golden blessing descended.

I could see the dark mana being purified before my eyes.

Seeing what I could never have seen before, I realized anew that I was truly a necromancer now.

[Still, be careful. That cleansing power could be lethal to you.]

[I’ll remember it]

After the rite, we descended the mountain, where a carriage drawn by two horses awaited.

Sanchez opened the carriage door respectfully.

“Father, please step in.”

His heavy voice carried trust.

I turned to wait for William.

William, in Andre’s guise, was limping strangely.

“Andre. Is your leg hurt?”

“It is nothing worth your concern.”

Expressionless, William climbed in, and I sat beside him.

Sanchez instructed Mobin, then sat across from me.

Mobin climbed onto the driver’s bench and set the horses moving.

It had been so long since I last rode a carriage.

One with cushions this soft—I hadn’t even ridden such in my past life.

The steady clopping of hooves was oddly soothing.

Then Sanchez spoke.

“Father, I’ve been dying of curiosity since earlier.”

“Oh? What is it?”

I asked with a faint smile, and Sanchez replied:

“That monster in the cave looked like the Sand Dragons of legend. How did you defeat such a beast, Father?”