Ch.4747. Necromancer

“Your Majesty!”

Tyren, the Magic Judge, hastily stepped aside and knelt on one knee on the filthy prison floor.

In reality, with the simultaneous appearance of the two people before whom he had to humble himself in this kingdom, Tyren couldn’t say anything more.

Looking down at him, Archmage Rockpellican chuckled heartily.

“It seems the Judge also has business with this man. Would you be willing to yield to us this time?”

“Yes, of course.”

Under the pressure disguised as Rockpellican’s request, the large-framed Tyren tucked his tail and retreated.

However, his expression still revealed intense killing intent directed at me, prompting Rockpellican to click his tongue and grumble after Tyren left.

“Tsk, his fiery temperament is really problematic. As a judge, he should maintain a cool, sharp edge.”

King Orpheus smiled in response to Rockpellican’s comment.

“With such passionate temperament protecting our kingdom, we can trust him all the more.”

“Well, if Your Majesty says so.”

When Orpheus defended Judge Tyren, Rockpellican didn’t add anything further.

Finally, their attention turned to me.

“So, you’re the madman who voluntarily confessed to being a Black Mage.”

Orpheus observed me with interest, arms crossed. As he circled around me, I felt like a precious item in an appraiser’s hands.

“You must know our kingdom’s laws? Black Mages can be summarily executed at the Magic Judge’s discretion.”

“I am aware.”

The kingdom’s oppression of Black Mages is unimaginably strict. Summary execution without trial was a rare right even in medieval times, and unthinkable in the modern era.

But this is medieval times, and a game.

Especially considering the kingdom’s history, the suppression of Black Mages was somewhat understandable.

“Are you some reincarnation of Heralhadjad? Do you intend to destroy the kingdom single-handedly?”

Heralhadjad.

A name that makes every citizen of the Griffin Kingdom tremble.

A monstrous being who, as a Black Mage, nearly brought the kingdom to ruin single-handedly.

Even in the game’s main story, there was content about following his footsteps and uncovering the kingdom’s secrets.

“No, I am not.”

After my calm response, King Orpheus sighed deeply in frustration and asked:

“Then why did you turn yourself in? Did you feel guilty about your misdeeds? I heard about a strange incident at Robern Academy, though no report has come in yet, so that might be related.”

The incident at the academy occurred less than two days ago.

Even a king couldn’t immediately know the details of what was essentially a supernatural occurrence.

“It’s simply for the kingdom’s sake.”

“Hmm?”

My declaration made both King Orpheus and Rockpellican, who stood silently behind him, waver.

“You must have seen my letter.”

I never sent a letter to the king. There wouldn’t be such a hotline anyway.

I sent a letter to the magic tower where the Archmage resides. A simple letter wouldn’t have reached the Archmage, of course.

But I had enclosed my own special device that he absolutely couldn’t ignore.

Rockpellican slowly extended his hand.

A transparent barrier resembling a fish tank appeared, containing an actively moving blue mana cluster—what I had placed inside the letter.

“Setting aside the contents of the letter about turning yourself in.”

King Orpheus observed with interest, making a contemplative sound.

Rockpellican seemed to have much to say but couldn’t speak freely in the king’s presence.

“How is magic moving on its own? Is this another form of Black Magic? The Archmage, who supposedly mastered most magic, brought this to me with wide eyes just 30 minutes ago.”

“Ahem.”

Rockpellican cleared his throat awkwardly and averted his gaze, as if embarrassed. But he didn’t deny it, and continued:

“Magic moving on its own is truly remarkable. If done properly, it could create a semi-permanent power source that requires no resources—a groundbreaking development.”

“……”

When I looked at him as if he was stating the obvious, the Archmage chuckled and nodded.

“Yes, of course. After all, the inventor himself would certainly understand the greatness of his achievement.”

Then Rockpellican asked me with a low groan:

“If your claim about serving the kingdom and His Majesty is true, could you explain this principle to me? This wondrous miracle of magic possessing will.”

To the Archmage who was praising my magic as brilliant, I replied without much enthusiasm:

“It’s necromancy.”

“……”

“You’re correct. It appears to act as if it has will because it actually is magic that thinks and acts on its own.”

Because:

“It was created using the souls of the dead.”

The expressions of the Archmage and the king visibly distorted. Though they might have expected it, hearing it directly from me seemed to evoke various emotions.

The Archmage tried to maintain composure as he asked:

“I understand you’re a necromancer, a rare type among Black Mages. However, the necromancers I know extract mana from souls and mix it with grudges to manipulate as magic.”

“……”

“I’ve never heard of souls maintaining their own consciousness and moving as magic.”

Of course not.

There are no necromancers like me who can directly communicate with souls.

“That’s why I’m special, and why the kingdom needs me.”

“Hmm?”

King Orpheus, who had been listening to our conversation with interest, turned his gaze toward me.

“Your Majesty, I am a necromancer. I am one of the few wise ones on the continent who knows the truth beyond death.”

“Oh?”

Realizing I was trying to persuade him, Orpheus smiled and leaned against the iron bars with his arms crossed.

“Regrettably for believers, there is no world after death. The dead simply close their eyes and rest.”

There is no future where one is embraced by Goddess Justia, or holds endless luxurious feasts in God Bellas’s palace.

Nor does one become a beloved angel praising Goddess Hertia.

For humans, only rest comes after death.

“Hmm, the priests would go mad if they heard such words.”

“Because it is the truth.”

“But truth need not always be known. This world has those who find salvation in religion and those who make it their livelihood.”

“I have no desire to engage in tiresome debates with them either.”

“…Wise indeed.”

Spreading such truths would throw the kingdom—indeed, the entire continent—into chaos.

Moreover, it would lead to fierce conflicts with religious institutions, who would never accept the truth.

I had no intention of making them accept it or spreading it.

While I wasn’t concerned with whether religion was true or false, I understood it existed because it was necessary.

“However, Your Majesty must not turn away.”

I locked eyes with King Orpheus. My gaze pierced him like a spear, ensuring he couldn’t escape.

“The continent, which has received countless dead over immeasurable time, is reaching saturation. The places where the dead can rest are gradually diminishing.”

“……”

“Haven’t strange, unsolved incidents been increasing year by year? Aren’t you forcibly covering them up?”

King Orpheus uncrossed his arms and jerked forward as if struck by an unexpected blow.

“Are you saying the dead are responsible?”

“Until now, it was manageable. There were still places on the continent where the dead could rest.”

But now it’s different.

“Can you hear the continent’s screams? Can you hear the voices of spirits wandering without a place to rest even after death?”

“……”

“The flesh of the body rots, bones turn to ash, and return to the earth. But not the soul. It doesn’t decay even after eons.”

It just remains there.

“You had no choice but to cover up these strange unsolved cases. After all, unresolved tragedies would lead to citizens’ distrust of the royal family.”

“Ahem.”

“But covering up isn’t solving. Eventually, all these issues will resurface and threaten the entire kingdom.”

Rejecting Black Mages means denying their entire field of study.

The kingdom, deeply scarred by Heralhadjad, forcibly turned away from Black Magic and antagonized it.

But the price of ignorance was approaching.

“Soon, countless dead will grab the ankles of the brilliant griffin and try to drag it down. That is the price of ignorance that turned away from fear.”

“Even so.”

Orpheus interrupted. I closed my mouth slowly and listened attentively.

“Even so, we cannot break the rejection of Black Mages that has been passed down through countless ancestors. It’s a 200-year history. We have suppressed Black Magic for over 200 years.”

It was a long history indeed.

200 years ago, when the Black Mage Heralhadjad was active. The kingdom nearly perished because of just one person.

“Now citizens believe Black Magic is inherently evil, an absolute evil. Religious institutions use this to solidify their position.”

“……”

“Suddenly accepting Black Magic now? Those with firm beliefs would rise in rebellion across the land.”

Whether those beliefs are right or wrong doesn’t matter. To them, it’s an immutable truth.

“The wounds left by Heralhadjad still sting us bitterly.”

The king’s answer: he cannot accept it.

To King Orpheus, who frowned and said it was impossible, I spoke again.

“Your Majesty.”

“…Speak.”

“If you keep a bandage on a wound forever, you’ll never know if it has scarred, festered, or healed completely.”

“……”

“How long will the Griffin Kingdom continue to groan with wounds created by Black Magic? How much time must pass before the wounds of that day dull?”

“Their deaths will be remembered forever!”

Orpheus momentarily flared with anger, gritting his teeth and glaring at me.

“The countless citizens who died at the hands of the wicked Black Mage will be remembered eternally within me, within our land! Do not disrespect them.”

Yes.

It is right to remember the dead.

Their deaths were regrettable, tragic, and sorrowful.

But.

“Your Majesty.”

The dead are dead.

“Look at the living.”

The dead people…

Are just dead people.

“Look at your citizens who work with sweat on their brows, who drink to relieve the day’s fatigue, who go to sleep anticipating tomorrow.”

King Orpheus is not the king from 200 years ago. He is not the monarch who ruled over citizens killed by Heralhadjad.

He needs to see those living in this reality, now.

“It’s good to remember the past. It’s admirable to honor the dead. But don’t confuse priorities.”

This is something only I, as a necromancer, can say.

“As Deus Verdi, one who has understood the principles of necromancy, one who stands closest to the boundary between life and death, I declare with absolute certainty.”

Because I can see both the dead and the living, I can draw a clear line.

“The dead cannot stand above the living.”

King Orpheus closed his mouth tightly and lowered his eyes. Various concerns seemed to cross his mind.

“Your Majesty.”

A sword of magical energy formed in my hand.

Archmage Rockpellican behind him startled and tried to respond, but King Orpheus gestured to stop him.

“Look at this sword.”

His gaze fell on the tip of the blue mana sword.

“Right now, it’s a weapon threatening you. With just a slight movement, it could harm Your Majesty’s body.”

But slowly, I placed the sword’s hilt in his hand. He took my sword as if pushed by something, and now the sword was pointed at me.

“With just a slight change in direction, with just a change in who holds it, it has become the closest weapon protecting Your Majesty’s body.”

With the sword between us, I met his golden eyes again.

“Will you define swords as evil and never wield one again just because you were once badly cut by one?”

Most things in the world are too ambiguous to be neatly categorized into a binary.

“Using poison to counter poison. Using one evil to destroy another.”

The many wounds and grudges created by Heralhadjad.

“I will soothe and heal the unhealed wounds left by Black Magic.”

“Who are you to…”

The king’s voice, slowly breaking the silence, carried a heavy weight.

In response to his demand, I answered with a naturally forming generous smile:

“A woman who borrows the power of gods to save people is called a Saintess.”

And I:

“I, who borrow the power of the dead, am merely a necromancer.”