Necromancer Of The Black Bible (45)

I looked at the door Equinox pointed to and asked.

“So you’re saying they’re waiting beyond that door?”

“Illinas’s vassal, Shador, is here.”

I had heard that name before.

Shador, the Warlock of Darkness.

He was Illinas’s right hand, a demon who had reached a level all black magicians once dreamed of.

When he was human, he was hailed as a peerless genius—having reached the 9th Circle by his forties, and by the time he lost his soul completely, he had glimpsed the path to the 10th Circle.

Later, when Illinas encountered him in the Demon Realm, he valued his talent and made him his right hand. Thanks to that, Shador achieved the 10th Circle.

That tale was so famous that every warlock who studied black magic knew it.

When I first heard it, I too revered him.

For a human to become the right hand of a Demon King and enjoy immortality—that was mesmerizing indeed.

‘So now I face that legendary warlock.’

It would be strange if I didn’t feel tense.

But Equinox said in a flat voice,

“Shador is someone you can handle at your current level, Honored Master.”

“Really?”

Objectively, the power gap was obvious.

He was a 10th-Circle warlock of legend, while I was merely a necromancer who had just stepped into the 3rd circle.

Even accounting for class differences, victory seemed impossible.

Yet if Equinox said it was possible, there had to be a reason.

He had been right when we fought the Sand Dragon.

“Normally that power gap would be insurmountable. But consider where you are, and what state you’re in.”

Equinox’s point was sharp.

This was not the normal world.

It was my past.

To be precise, a world erased by my regression.

And here, I existed only as a spirit.

Shador, on the other hand, would come with a body by Illinas’s power.

That gave me a chance.

For no black magic could erase a spirit.

‘He can’t kill me.’

But what about me?

Equinox answered.

“Necromancy is the art of death. We possess ways to return spirits to nothingness. It requires great willpower, but without a body, it’s not so hard. And harming someone who does have a body is far easier.”

Equinox’s green eyes gleamed and flickered.

I couldn’t see his face, but I could sense a deep smile.

“Then it’s settled. You’re coming with me?”

“Yes. I will assist by your side.”

I walked up to the door.

Then I grabbed the handle and flung it open.

The space beyond was familiar.

The forest hut in Tarnia, in the northwest of the continent.

By the timeline, about a year before I was captured and killed.

At that time, I was deeply immersed in studying necromancy. The 5th-circle necromancy my master had taught me was truly groundbreaking.

For the concept of raising the dead itself had never before existed in the world of magic.

‘Of course, looking back now, it seems rather crude.’

The necromancy my master taught me back then was limited to summoning the dead. As the circles advanced, the kinds of creatures that could be raised increased, but no new spells were learned.

I once thought he withheld them because black magic could substitute for them, but now I realized that wasn’t the case.

For even my master never used necromancy spells beyond that.

Perhaps my master had hit a wall.

After all, he had studied not from the original Aium de Equinox but from a copy.

Passing by fleeting glimpses of the past, I approached the hut.

As expected, there was an uninvited guest there.

A man in a deep purple robe adorned with ornate golden trim.

Without a doubt, this was Shador, the warlock of darkness Equinox had spoken of.

[Be careful. He has sensed you, Honored Master.]

Just as Equinox said, the man turned toward me.

He had a neatly trimmed dark-brown beard and a pair of split pupils.

Especially striking was the violet glow flickering in those eyes.

His forehead and face bore not a single wrinkle, and from the serpent-shaped staff he held, a grotesque aura rose and coiled.

Shador, the Warlock of Darkness.

He was a little different from what I had imagined, but the aura radiating from him was undeniable.

‘This guy… he’s the real thing.’

Shador looked at me with eyes like a snake sizing up its prey, then spoke with a strange expression.

“So it’s true. You’ve come here in spirit form.”

To him, my very existence seemed fascinating.

And no wonder—for my being here shattered all established magical theory.

In the texts of black magic, it is written:

<Time can only be wielded by the Absolute. In the past, that Absolute was God alone. But with God dead, the Demon Kings now hold that place.>

Meaning, unless one is a Demon King, time cannot be touched.

For a mere 3rd-circle mage to traverse time was, by all reason, impossible.

Shador looked at me and asked,

“Have you come to stop me?”

I answered with the Voice of my Soul.

[Looks to me like you’re the one who’s come to stop me.]

Shador chuckled.

Then he stroked his staff and spoke.

“Quite the nerve. Understandable, though. You’ve judged that in spirit form, I can’t touch you.”

Indeed, he saw right through the situation.

And yet, his composure meant he had a countermeasure.

“Honestly, when the Demon King first told me about you, I couldn’t believe it. A mere mage traversing time? What sorcery have you learned?”

I did not answer.

There was no need.

He didn’t expect one anyway and immediately revealed killing intent.

At the same time, his staff changed shape.

The serpent-shaped staff transformed into a massive scythe.

The moment I saw it, Equinox’s voice echoed.

[Soul Harvester….]

[What’s that?]

To my question, Equinox answered with a grim tone.

[A weapon that can cut down spirits.]

So that’s why.

No wonder his presence felt so threatening.

But strangely…

I didn’t feel much danger.

[You must be cautious. That weapon tears spirits apart and absorbs them.]

[As long as it doesn’t hit me, I’ll be fine, right?]

[That’s true, but….]

Before Equinox could finish, Shador moved. Sliding like the wind, leaving afterimages, he lunged at me and swung the Soul Harvester.

Whoooosh-

The deadly sound cleaved the air.

But that was all.

It didn’t touch me. I slipped past his scythe to the opposite side.

‘Easier to dodge than I thought.’

Perhaps because I was in spirit form, my focus sharpened. I could see his movements clearly.

And my own movements were incredibly agile.

I could pass through every visible object—avoiding Shador’s attacks was nothing at all.

Whoosh— swish— swish— whoosh—

Shador moved swiftly, trying to cut me down, but it was useless.

I could read his moves easily, and if I sank underground, he was powerless.

‘So this is why they say you can’t fight a ghost.’

An old saying passed down by word of mouth.

In my past life I thought it meaningless, but experiencing it now, I understood.

Even a 10th-Circle arch-warlock couldn’t deal with a ghost.

In truth, not just a mage—no one could.

Even a Sword Master wielding a famed blade couldn’t cut a spirit. They might kill the living to create one, but not erase the spirit itself.

For a while, I dodged Shador’s strikes with ease. He cast Haste on himself to attack faster, but it didn’t matter to me.

It might have worked on a spirit ignorant of magic.

But in my past life, I’d reached the 5th circle. I understood the mindset of mages completely.

Watching this, Equinox spoke.

[You’re quite skilled.]

[It’s nothing. Easier than moving a body.]

A body is heavy.

Thus, there’s always some lag between thought and action.

And physical speed depends on muscle. Magic can boost it, but it can’t surpass a spirit that needs none of it.

[As you judge, Honored Master. But not all spirits move like you. They lack your kind of insight.]

Insight, yes—but also, most spirits simply never needed to move that way.

How many spirits ever encounter a weapon that can cut them?

Dodging another strike, I asked Equinox,

[So how should I deal with him?]

[There are many bones nearby. Why not try Bone Spear?]

A good idea.

This was where I learned necromancy from my master—naturally, bones were plentiful.

Many hung on the fence, and hundreds of corpses lay buried in the field before the hut.

‘They were hard to haul here, but to think I’d use them like this.’

I widened the distance from Shador and cast Bone Spear.

But nothing happened.

After several failures, I realized something.

‘I don’t have a Mana Ring right now.’

Magic requires a Mana Ring in the heart.

The Ring must spin, resonating with ambient mana, to harness it with will.

Without one, the only spells I could use were lesser magic.

Lesser magic, which gathers mana solely with willpower.

Recalling this, I focused on the bones hanging from the fence.

Then three bones rose and began to spin on their axes.

Fiiing-

“What? You mean you can even cast magic in that state?!”

Startled, Shador raised a barrier.

As expected of a 10th-Circle mage, his barrier was massive and sturdy.

But could it withstand my Bone Spear, which pierced even a Sand Dragon’s hide?

‘I really wonder.’

Grinning, I fired the rapidly spinning bones.

Puh, puh, puh-BOOM-

The first volley was three bones in total.

With lesser magic, that was all I could muster.

The spinning speed didn’t fully satisfy me.

But the power wasn’t bad at all.

For it carved great cracks into Shador’s barrier.

‘Just a bit more, and it’ll break.’

Unlike me, who was relaxed, Shador’s face stiffened.

As I raised more bones, he gripped the Soul Harvester tightly, tense.

The bones spun again, and without delay, I fired them.

Puh-puh-puh-BOOM-

Craaaack-

This time, it was close again.

Shador desperately patched the cracks in his barrier.

‘At this rate, it’ll just be a battle of attrition.’

I needed overwhelming force in one strike to shatter it.

But no method came to mind.

Except drawing mana through lesser magic.

[Honored Master.]

[Wait, hold on.]

Equinox tried to speak, but I cut him off.

Because a good idea struck me.

In spirit form, I could draw mana with focus alone.

So why not draw that too?

I gazed at Shador’s throbbing heart.

He had two hearts, astonishingly.

On the left and right of his chest, each heart pulsed with five rapidly spinning Mana Rings.

I focused my mind on those Rings.

Then, something astounding happened.

The Rings spun even faster, and surrounding mana began to gather around me.

‘As I thought.’

So this was the power of will I could exert in spirit form.

I drew the mana stirred by Shador’s Rings and wrapped it around myself.

Then the mana flowed as it once had in my body, glowing faintly green.

That familiar aura encircled me, and I couldn’t help but smile.

With that mana, I lifted the bones once more.

Ssssss-

Hundreds of bones buried in the field rose into the air, spinning on their axes.

Fiiiiiiing-

This was a different spin entirely.

As powerful as when I faced the Sand dragon.

I looked at Shador.

He desperately tried to maintain his barrier, but it wasn’t easy—because his Mana Rings were already working for me.

I hurled a single Bone Spear at him.