Chapter 23 : The story of the Immortal Siblings (2)
by fnovelpia
A fief is both the right of lords to rule over their lands and a sanctuary for the people who live within its borders.
At least in a place threatened by monsters, options are not plentiful.
Even though considerable taxes are extracted, people must choose between living in the safety of fiefs protected by elite soldiers and knights or risking their lives outside.
Most chose the former.
However, the northern regions of the empire, paralyzed by the Winter of the Apocalypse, did not fall under such options.
There, neither fiefs nor their guardians mattered because the biting cold of winter literally brought the end to the people.
Ultimately, only one fief in the northern region functioned properly—Baikal Fief.
That didn’t mean there were no other villages where people lived outside of Baikal.
Even in situations deemed absolutely unlivable, the human instinct for survival persisted.
And in the process, superficial morality and knowledge were often abandoned.
Some people embraced fear in order to survive.
They worshipped Wendigos as gods and even created avatars for these creatures.
Others exploited the empire’s guardian dragons.
They forced the bound guardian dragons, through ancient covenants, to devour Wendigos against their will.
Yet, for some, the harsh environment turned out to be advantageous.
These were the necromancers.
Necromancers are those who defy the cycle of life and reclaim life from death.
However, by violating the natural cycle, their forms became cursed, and they were naturally shunned across the continent.
For such individuals, the northern regions of the empire, excluding the severe conditions, became a suitable hideout.
Even if the Holy Nation pursued them, it would never survive the winter.
Moreover, the Winter of the Apocalypse preserved corpses in perfect condition.
As long as they could endure the environment, it was an ideal sanctuary for necromancers.
Of course, meeting such conditions was far from easy.
For one unfortunate girl and boy, however, these necromancers had already satisfied the conditions.
The necromancers had found a safe haven in the north and continued to grow their strength.
They prepared for the day they could avenge the Holy Nation that persecuted them, by any means necessary.
They ambushed people being transported to Baikal Fief, turning them into undead.
Occasionally, if someone showed a talent for necromancy, they brainwashed them into allies.
Naturally, this wasn’t an easy task.
The freezing cold and lurking Wendigo monsters were just as much of a threat to the necromancers.
But they found a way to escape both cold and monsters—by becoming undead themselves.
Among them were liches, skeletal undead with no flesh.
Liches transcended death, immune to the cold, and even the Wendigos showed no interest in them.
Of course, not all succeeded in becoming liches.
Many failed and met eternal rest instead.
Thus, the necromancers focused on increasing their numbers.
For the sake of vengeance, they needed more allies.
The girl and boy were chosen for this reason alone.
It wasn’t because they had extraordinary talent—just pure misfortune.
They had the bad luck of being attacked by necromancers.
“Don’t worry, I’ll protect you.”
“Brother…!!”
“I promise.”
The light of hope did not last long. Like the Winter of the Apocalypse, which extinguished everything, the first thing the necromancers did was destroy their support.
They severed the limbs of the girl’s older brother, the one who had been her pillar of strength, and left him to die before her eyes.
As she watched the weight of life slip away between her fingers, what could the girl do?
She did everything she could.
She wept, pleaded, and begged at their feet, promising to do anything just to save her brother.
But they ignored her cries.
The girl’s brother didn’t last even a fortnight in such a harsh environment.
Surviving that long in such conditions was already a miracle.
The loss of her only support plunged the girl into despair.
Fear and terror consumed her as she realized she was alone in the cold, cruel world.
“There’s a way to bring your brother back.”
“…Really?”
“Of course.”
At that moment, it didn’t matter whether they were enemies or not.
What mattered most to her was bringing back her only family, who had left the world too soon.
Perhaps it was misfortune.
Perhaps it was fate.
The girl possessed unimaginable talent.
The ability to command death itself.
From the start, the necromancers recognized her natural talent.
They taught her while ensuring she followed their orders.
She became a tool, a slave whose gifts were fully exploited.
Three years passed.
The girl had become the most powerful necromancer.
Was it arrogance?
Or carelessness?
The necromancers of the Sanctuary of Souls believed they had everything under control.
Some even plotted to take over the girl’s body entirely.
To be honest, they nearly succeeded.
If it weren’t for her brother, who had been resurrected as a Death Knight clad in black armor, her body would have been taken by one of the liches.
That marked the beginning of the girl’s counterattack.
For three years, she had feigned obedience.
The liches, deceived by her act, had let their guard down.
She seized the opportunity and slaughtered them all.
Though the liches fought back fiercely, her mastery of necromancy and curses far surpassed theirs.
What followed wasn’t difficult.
The girl absorbed the evil magic left behind in the liches’ hearts.
With that power, she raised a massive army from the countless corpses scattered across the north.
An undead army.
Its sudden emergence was as dangerous as the Wendigos.
Baikal Fief couldn’t ignore it and sent someone to subjugate her.
That someone was Wolfgang.
At that time, she had yet to gain recognition and wasn’t of noble status.
When she arrived, the girl openly mocked her.
She had come alone, without leading an army, to face the undead legion.
What confidence.
Was she seeking death?
Her contempt, however, turned to ashes in an instant.
The flames she conjured were so fierce that they could overcome even the Winter of the Apocalypse.
The undead army, numbering in the thousands, was reduced to ashes in less than an hour. The only survivors were the girl and her brother.
“Impressive. To think an undead could withstand my flames at full power.”
“……”
“But the outcome has already been decided. So, let me make you an offer.”
The woman pulled a cigarette from her pocket and placed it in her mouth.
Her demeanor was beyond relaxed, bordering on condescension, but the girl couldn’t argue.
After all, it was undeniable that she had been completely overwhelmed.
“You have two choices. One is to turn to ash right here. I understand your circumstances are pitiful… but that won’t bring back the lives you’ve taken.”
“…You said there were two choices.”
“The second option is to become my subordinate.”
“What? Become your subordinate?”
At first, the girl thought she had misheard.
Necromancers who commanded the undead were unwelcome everywhere.
Hadn’t this very woman come here to kill her?
“It’s true that wielding the unsettling power of the undead is a fact. And there are undoubtedly people who lost their lives because of the undead under your command.”
“And yet, you’d take me in as your subordinate?”
“Yes. The empire isn’t in a position to be picky right now.”
Ironically, the girl’s misfortune turned into fortune.
Wolfgang, who had come to capture her, had suffered a devastating defeat just a few months prior.
Through that experience, Wolfgang had come to a realization:
To defeat the Wendigo, allies are necessary.
Not just ordinary allies—only those with the strength to stand against the Wendigo would suffice.
‘Undead? Honestly, I’ve seen enough of them in novels and games.’
More importantly, Wolfgang herself didn’t have much aversion to the undead.
Not only was she used to the idea, but there were far worse monsters targeting her right now.
Compared to those, the undead were almost endearing.
Furthermore, an undead army had practical benefits in Wolfgang’s eyes. They could endure the bitter cold, scout ahead, or guard the walls instead of living soldiers.
‘This is better than I thought.’
‘…Extending a hand to necromancers and the undead? Am I insane?’
The girl, unaware of Wolfgang’s true intentions, was bewildered.
It had to be a lie. There was no way this wasn’t some kind of trick.
After everything she had been through, she couldn’t let herself be deceived again.
Yet, despite her doubts, the girl reached out and took Wolfgang’s hand.
Why?
Because, just this once, she wanted to believe.
She wanted to believe in the warmth of the hand that extended toward her—the hand of someone willing to accept an undead and a necromancer, whom everyone else had rejected.
‘If it doesn’t work out, I can always use her as a meat shield.’
From Wolfgang’s perspective, it was fortunate the girl couldn’t read her true intentions.
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