"You Can't Do Business Here"
With the rattling of wheels, the convoy wagons rolled down the main road.
Inside the cold iron cages were people.
Ordinary civilians who had lived within Paul Wyvern Castle.
"Grrrr…"
"Eek?!"
At the low growls coming from outside the bars, several women flinched in fear.
Escorting the slowly moving wagons were undead.
If not for these iron cages imprisoning them, they would have already become food for those corpses.
"M-Mom…"
"It's alright. The young lady will come save us soon. So…"
Though she said that to her terrified daughter, the expressions of the others imprisoned with them were far from hopeful.
There was a reason why the seafolk, famous for their toughness, had become so gloomy.
It had already been a week since Helian and the Imperial knights had begun imprisoning civilians.
And during that time, what they had witnessed within the territory had been scenes straight out of hell.
Imperial undead roaming the sacred grounds of Paul Wyvern, home of the Dragon Knights.
The ducal house falling into the hands of outsiders, and the knights turning their swords against the very civilians they were meant to protect.
After witnessing all that, no hope remained in their eyes.
Even the slightest will to resist had been crushed beneath military boots, leaving them with nothing but empty resignation.
"We've arrived."
How long had it been since they left the castle walls?
The necromancer hiding his face beneath a robe spoke, and the convoy of five wagons came to a halt.
Step. Step.
With quiet footsteps, a group of people appeared before the necromancers.
Priests dressed in ceremonial robes.
And escorting them were inquisitors armed with maces and flails.
"The goods?"
Goods.
The priest spoke that word while looking at the people imprisoned behind the iron bars, without even the slightest hesitation.
"Forty-five. Fifteen per wagon."
"The number's increased compared to last time. And the requested conditions?"
The necromancer remained silent for a moment before answering with an uncomfortable expression.
"…As requested, they were grouped in threes from the same bloodline."
Parents, siblings, relatives.
Resemblance was preferred, and siblings were best of all.
Even after selecting them personally, the request still felt grotesque.
"Excellent."
After an inquisitor checked the captives through the bars and reported back, the priest stroked his chin.
"Duchess Helian… she's more capable than I expected."
Helian, ruler of one of the Empire's Three Great Duchies.
Yet despite mentioning her, the priest's tone carried not the slightest shred of respect.
"Thanks to her, things have become much easier for us."
With those words, the priest gestured toward the inquisitors escorting him.
"Bring the merchandise."
At the command, one of the inquisitors pulled over a cart.
An antique chest made of leather and silk.
When it was opened, it revealed countless crimson glass vials inside.
"Hah…"
To practitioners, the liquid inside was worth more than gold of the same weight.
There was enough to fill an entire cart, making it impossible to even imagine how many resources had gone into producing it.
"Ah, and this as well."
While the wagons and glass vials were being exchanged, the priest seemed to recall something and handed an item to the necromancer escorting the convoy.
"What's this?"
"A gift from His Holiness. He said to deliver it to the Duchess."
A long bundle.
The necromancer accepted it, then frowned.
"A sword? Would Duchess Helian even have any use for this?"
At the question, the priest shook his head as well.
"One cannot fathom His Holiness's intentions. However…"
Trailing off slightly, the priest continued with a faint sneer.
"Aren't they fellow Leinrants? Descendants of the great Berkel's bloodline."
"Hah, that so-called great hero."
The necromancer snorted mockingly and tucked away the sword.
At that exact moment—
—You bastards really have some nerve.
At the unfamiliar voice echoing through the air, the priest, necromancer, and all the inquisitors immediately became alert.
"What?!"
"Who goes there?!"
Unlike the enraged priest, who was furious that the transaction site had been exposed, the necromancer focused on the voice itself.
—So the same people who scream about necromancy being heresy are secretly doing business with necromancers behind closed doors?
The voice continued to echo.
Feeling a strangely familiar presence within it, the necromancer unconsciously tightened his grip.
'This isn't just voice amplification magic. This is…'
The power contained within the voice was demonic energy.
A secret force that only those chosen by the Emperor could wield.
'No… it's different. If anything, this feels even more…'
The moment that thought crossed his mind—
"Y-you…!"
Having spotted the owner of the voice, the priest shouted.
Silver hair glimmered beneath the hood.
Cold blue eyes stared down at them.
"I'm the second son from next door, and you really shouldn't be conducting business in a place like this. Don't you agree?"
The one who spoke while drawing his sword was Klein Leinrant,
the second young master of the Leinrant Ducal House.
"Damn it, they tailed us!"
"No! I didn't—!"
As the furious priest barked at him, the necromancer ground his teeth as if he'd been falsely accused.
'Where the hell did he follow us from?! The inside of the castle was under constant surveillance by the Imperial Army…!'
Their panic was almost laughable.
'Well, no wonder they're shocked.'
Their route passed through Paul Wyvern's inner castle and Helian's private estate.
Helian's knights managed the territory, while Imperial forces stood guard everywhere else.
"It's impossible for anyone to tail or track us through all that! Then how did you—?!"
"How did I follow you?"
I cut him off mid-rant and folded my arms smugly.
"What else? Your rear got completely wrecked."
The moment I said that, smoke began rising from the distant Paul Wyvern Castle.
"What? Why is there smoke coming from the castle—?!"
"That's not all."
Right as I said that to them—
BOOOOOOM—!
With a deafening explosion, one of the prison towers collapsed entirely.
"W-what the…?!"
Moments later, alarm bells and trumpet blasts echoed all the way here, as though the entire castle had gone into emergency lockdown.
For them to make such a massive scene could only mean one thing—the escape of the key prisoners had succeeded.
They had deliberately destroyed the prison towers to buy time for the escape.
"Good grief. Take it easy already. It's not like you're a bunch of golems."
Watching the second prison tower crumble noisily into ruin, I muttered in disbelief.
Laia, her knights, and even Gordon—though he didn't show it outwardly.
The moment they got their chance, they were probably venting all the fury that had built up inside them.
"H-Hahaha! So what if that's the case?!"
Having finally grasped the situation, the priest forced out a loud laugh.
"From the looks of it, you came here alone. Don't you think that was an incredibly reckless decision?!"
'Sounds like a frightened dog barking.'
As if trying to suppress his fear.
As if desperately trying to hide his anxiety.
The tense priest kept shouting.
"There are around twenty inquisitors here! And on top of that, this place is swarming with zombies!"
Perhaps gaining confidence from his own words, the priest's voice gradually grew bolder.
"No matter how skilled your swordsmanship is, there's no way one knight can handle this many people—!"
"That's right. A knight alone couldn't."
As I said that, I looked toward the necromancer standing beside the priest with stiff shoulders.
Even if he was some third-rate hack, he was still someone who wielded demonic energy.
Unlike the priest, he seemed to have already realized which side the battle favored.
"But honestly, I almost feel bad for you."
"…What?"
Looking at the priest's dumbfounded expression, I spoke cheerfully.
"The thing is, I'm not a knight."
Then, with those words—
"I'm a necromancer."
At the same time, I released the demonic energy accumulated within my body and activated the Contract Gate.
Kiiiiiiing—!
The darkstone ring already fused into my body.
The demonic energy of Archimond contained within it erupted outward, constructing countless spells.
Unlike before, when I could barely summon a few dozen undead, now the number reached into the hundreds.
"You there, third-rate. Watch carefully."
"…!"
I spoke to the Empire's necromancer, whose eyes were tense with fear.
"If you dare call yourself a necromancer, this is the bare minimum you should be capable of."
Fwoooosh—!
Overflowing black energy spread in every direction and saturated the area.
At this moment, the dominion of the space shifted from the living to the dead.
Uuuuuuuu—!
A chilling chorus echoed out, like the boos of an enraged crowd.
At the same time, countless symbols began appearing in the air.
"What is that?!"
The runes used to engrave corpses during necromancy.
"A-ahhh…!"
The necromancer's body trembled violently upon seeing them.
Half of it was a scream of terror.
The other half, a gasp of awe.
[O dragon slayers who once protected this land, and soldiers who fought beside them. Klein Leinrant, your guide, offers you a contract.]
Ruuuumble…!
Centered around the floating symbols, black lines spread outward like blood vessels, forming shapes that surrounded the entire area.
[A monster sits upon a false throne, wielding power that was never its own.]
The souls who understood the terms of the contract began revealing themselves one by one.
—KROOOOOAAAR—!
The first to appear were skeletons.
Following the guide's voice, they formed ranks and assembled into military formations.
"U-undead?!"
"No way! There aren't even any corpses here, so how can he summon this many undead—?!"
—Do not judge my power with your pitiful scrap of knowledge, you defective fool.
With words so arrogant they bordered on madness, I activated the next spell.
More than five times the number of skeletons from before.
Yet even this was merely a prelude.
The dead I had contracted with were not limited to them alone.
[Those who accept my contract, arise. Tear out the corrupted hearts before you and unleash your wrath.]
Claaang—!
Figures wielding pitch-black lances and shields filled the gaps between the skeletons.
And among them appeared knights clad entirely in black armor.
"Death… Knights…!"
I looked upon the warriors lined up in formation.
Instead of swords, they raised spears—the origin of the name that once ruled this land.
Those who stood against the black dragon that burned the skies and struck down its wyvern kin.
Dragon Slayers.
Paul Wyvern.
"T-ten Death Knights…?!"
The necromancer screamed in utter disbelief.
The inquisitors immediately raised their weapons, but the tide of battle had already long since turned.
"Your contractor, Klein Leinrant, commands you."
Drawing my sword and raising it toward the sky, I addressed the souls who had answered my contract.
"Crush those who defiled your sacred ground. Destroy them so thoroughly that not even a shred of flesh remains."
At those words, the undead legion moved.
An army marching in perfect unison without the slightest error, with the armored knights advancing at the forefront.
"This… this isn't ordinary necromancy! Only someone like…!"
The necromancer's voice abruptly stopped there.
"N-no way… the rumors were true…?"
The priest too seemed to recall the rumors surrounding me, his mouth hanging open.
"Yes. They were."
Long ago, there had once been a legion of specters that ravaged the entire continent.
And the forces advancing before them now were fragments of Archimond's Legion.
READ MORE CHAPTERS HERE : https://beastnovels.com