Necromancer Of The Black Bible (78)

Verdin did not yet understand what the coin signified.

No one had explained it to him.

In that moment, the golden scales in Lexira’s hand began to tremble, then tilted sharply toward Calix.

Instantly, Calix’s body was bathed in golden light, while Verdin was engulfed in crimson flame.

Every spirit in the hall cried out in understanding.

-Kyaha! Verdin, you unlucky bastard!

-Snatching luck right here! Calix, you lucky son of a bitch!

-You had a backer after all, Calix!

-Calix! What luck! Bringing someone even unluckier than you!

Verdin still didn’t grasp why they were shouting such things.

But the moment he tried to channel energy into his sword, he understood.

‘The power won’t flow properly.’

The crimson flames wrapping his body were the cause.

‘So the coin decides who receives the penalty.’

It was a dire situation, but Verdin did not despair.

He had faced rigged penalties many times in life.

Wealthy gamblers and nobles who wanted an opponent eliminated often arranged such handicaps.

Usually they fixed the target in advance; here, a coin toss decided it—so in a way, it was fair.

‘Luck is part of skill. Accept it.’

In life, Verdin had reached the realm of Swordmaster.

Though he had lost to a young boy, such masters were rare.

Just from Calix’s stance, Verdin could gauge his level.

‘Expert at best. Nothing more.’

Verdin tightened his grip on the sword.

Calix readied his blade and charged.

-Haaah!

With a shout, golden sword-light flashed. A wave of golden sword energy hurtled toward Verdin at terrifying speed.

He meant to parry at first, but changed his mind.

The pressure emanating from the strike was too dangerous.

‘For now…’

Verdin sidestepped lightly. The sword energy grazed past his chest and slammed into the wall behind him.

KWABOOOM!

A massive shockwave rocked the entire hall.

The wall was unscathed, but the blast knocked countless spirits off their feet—even those far away stumbled.

Verdin ignored it and charged Calix.

His body felt heavier than expected. The sword too.

“But…’

Reviving the instincts of his living days, he unleashed his most confident technique.

Silver afterimages tore through the air as energy surged into the rusty blade.

His ultimate technique: Silver Phantasm.

A lethal strike that could bisect any lesser opponent in one blow.

Against an Expert, Silver Phantasm should have been unstoppable.

But Verdin’s prediction was wrong.

Bathed in golden light, Calix parried it effortlessly.

CLAAANG!

The deflected sword energy smashed into the ceiling, sending another shockwave rippling outward.

Calix licked his lips in satisfaction.

-Sorry about this, first time meeting and all.

With that, he blurred forward and swung.

Verdin tried to dodge, but it was too sudden.

He barely raised his sword to block the third strike.

CLAAANG!

A screeching impact rang out as Verdin was hurled backward.

The shock coursed through his entire body.

-Kgh!

No blood flowed, but an inexplicable pain wracked him.

Helplessness began to consume his mind.

‘Damn it!’

Verdin gritted his teeth.

The penalty was far too severe.

An Expert now felt on par with a Master.

The bitter frustration he had tasted in life rose again.

Then a sudden thought struck him.

‘Could even that boy have won in this situation?’

The young-looking swordsman.

Verdin had lost to him completely.

Not a single technique had landed; he had been utterly killed.

Yet he had fought with everything and died to a stronger foe—an honorable death.

‘What was his name again?’

No matter how he searched his memories, the boy’s name would not come to him.

Instead, the name of the priest who had accompanied the boy grew clearer and clearer.

Like a buoy rising from the depths.

‘Damian…’

The instant the name formed in his mind, a voice answered.

[Did you call me?]

A familiar voice.

He could not see him, but Verdin knew instinctively—it was Damian himself.

After taking in Eliastra, I returned to my quarters in the First Monastery.

El had asked for time to prepare several things before opening the Ethereal Gate.

So I sat cross-legged in the center of the garden, focusing on purifying my fourth Mana Ring.

Then the Sand Dragon Geo visited.

Thanks to the barrier I always erected, no one usually detected me—but it had been a close call.

Geo had reported that Verdin was heading to the summit of Shadowpeak, then I sent him away.

Not long after, an unfamiliar voice called out.

-Damian.

My name, abrupt as it was, I wasn’t particularly surprised.

With each new Mana Ring, I had begun hearing all sorts of voices.

‘But this one is different.’

As I thought that, Equinox spoke.

[It is soul resonance caused by residual mana traces.]

[Resonance?]

[When necromantic spells using core mana are cast—even after the mana is reclaimed—traces remain. Especially with mental spells like brainwashing or fear.]

I understood immediately.

That was the nature of core mana.

Even if reclaimed, traces lingered.

Its density was far greater than ordinary mana—traces were inevitable.

And core mana naturally sought its original owner—me.

That was why I could communicate with those I had raised via necromancy.

So it was only natural that the one I had once brainwashed could now reach me.

Geo’s report and Equinox’s explanation.

Together, they told me exactly who it was.

[You’re Verdin.]

-You… remember me.

I would rather not, but I had no choice.

With each new Ring, my senses sharpened and memories grew clearer.

I couldn’t forget even if I wanted to.

[Why did you call me?]

-Well…

He hesitated.

The long silence told me he was in no position to chat.

I closed my eyes and searched for him.

Finding someone I had raised with necromancy was child’s play.

‘Near the summit of Shadowpeak.’

Just as Geo had said.

But the place felt strange.

To ordinary senses, it was just an empty clearing.

Trees grew in twisted patterns, revealing bare earth in the center.

It seemed unremarkable, yet something was off.

The same unease I had felt when healing Arian at the Black Leaf branch.

‘I focused harder that time because of the same feeling.’

I had discovered a wraith claiming to be her brother gripping her heart—and destroyed it.

Now, just as then, I focused my mind and looked around Verdin’s location.

The scenery transformed completely.

A village and massive citadel bathed in violet light.

Like a painting rendered only in shades of purple.

-Forbidden energy is present here.

[I feel it too.]

And it emanated from very close to Verdin.

‘What is it? Human?’

I used every sense available to examine it.

Left half glowing gold, right half crimson.

Half angel, half devil.

As I studied it carefully, Equinox spoke.

[So it’s Penbris.]

[Who’s that?]

[Once an angel who governed death under Kallios. When the demons rebelled, he vanished. I never imagined he’d be hiding like a rat in a place like this.]

[Hiding? He built an entire citadel.]

[Not just anyone can see spirits. Even demons can only perceive souls bound to them by contract or sacrifice. Most mages above 8th Circle still cannot detect them.]

That made sense.

The same was true for black mages.

They required special potions or artifacts to see spirits.

And I could recall no spell, even from my past life, that could detect crimson-tainted wraiths like these.

[Be careful. He understands the attribute of death better than anyone. And…]

Equinox paused before continuing.

[It seems he possesses an artifact from within the Ethereal Gate.]

[Artifact?]

[The Wheel of Eternity. An artifact capable of placing iron collars on the dead.]

[Why collar the dead?]

[The moment the collar is fastened, the spirit gains physical form and sensation. In ancient times, the gods used it to punish wicked souls—hence it was called “Punishment.” But Penbris seems to have renamed it.]

Equinox seemed to scan the area, then continued.

[They call those collars “Freedom.”]

A brilliantly twisted name.

To grant a spirit physical form and full sensation was no different from giving it a new body.

And spirits were naturally lighter than flesh. A solidified spirit would feel far freer than any living body.

[Their durability increases too. Like tough rubber—they regenerate no matter how much you damage them. To win their duel, one must remove the collar from the neck.]

Equinox turned his attention to Verdin.

[The one who called you is weakening fast. If you intend to use him, you must intervene now.]

He was right.

Verdin was on the defensive.

Crimson energy bound him, suppressing his true strength.

‘Then…’

I examined Verdin’s core.

As expected, a single massive Mana Ring spun fiercely within him.

Far larger and thicker than a mage’s.

This was typical of swordsmen.

Mages increased the number of Rings; swordsmen made one Ring vast and dense.

Verdin’s was not yet as large as William’s.

But it was still impressive.

That was why William had rated him highly.

‘With a Ring this size…’

I accelerated the rotation of Verdin’s Mana Ring.

Mana surged in from the surroundings, and I used it to cast a spell.

‘Mana Burst.’

In an instant, a massive explosion erupted around Verdin.

Every nearby spirit was hurled backward.

Calix braced himself with his sword, but the golden aura surrounding him was completely shattered and gone.

Verdin looked around in confusion, and I whispered to him.

[That better now?]

Feeling both his crimson bindings and Calix’s golden blessing vanish, Verdin nodded.

-Thank you.