The Necromancer's Servant

The bonfire was bright and lively, crackling with energy like the spirits of those gathered around it.

This trade expedition had been incredibly successful. The sold prices for the artworks and other specialties were higher than expected, and they had also taken advantage of a dwarf merchant, acquiring many fine weapons at a low price. Additionally, they managed to obtain a large amount of top-quality timber from the southeast of Einfast, which was highly sought after in the noble society of the Western Continent. The key was that a massive pagan uprising had completely destroyed the forests that produced this type of wood, making this the last shipment. In a market where rare goods are at a premium, the value of this timber was almost unimaginable. Though they had mercenaries, Orford had sent three orcs and a Kodo beast to assist in transporting and escorting the caravan due to the large quantity and high value of the goods. Many of the big-eared monsters, unable to bear the constraints of Orford's system, had declared their departure and resumed their former lives as robbers in the wild highlands. Orford's manpower was insufficient to maintain order across the entire highlands, and considering the emotions of those big-eared monsters who had joined Orford, they couldn't indiscriminately slaughter their own kind who were returning to their old way of life.

However, the presence of three orcs in the caravan completely alleviated these concerns. Since leaving Orford, the merchants had remained in high spirits. Almost every night, camping in the desolate land turned into a bonfire party, with the three orcs ensuring a steady supply of meat. Now that they had reached the edge of the wild highlands and would return to Alracia in just two more days, the merchants had brought out their treasured wine tonight, inviting the mercenaries to drink together.

Of course, the three orcs in the caravan still refused to drink. Orford had regulations prohibiting beastmen from partaking in such stimulating beverages.

But the others were different. The wine and food elevated the atmosphere to its peak. Joking, chatting, and shouting intermingled, transforming the previously desolate forest into a lively scene.

Under the influence of alcohol, the mercenaries were undoubtedly the most talkative. They had plenty of topics to discuss, given the significant events that had transpired over the past year. Among these, the most captivating was undoubtedly the fugitive. This "Five Thousand Gold Mister" had enough charisma to keep his name on everyone's lips.

"If I discover that guy's whereabouts, I definitely won't blow the whistle. I'll first approach him, pretending to be a very honest and friendly person to gain his trust, then he'll let his guard down," a mercenary, uglier than a half-orc and more grotesque than an ogre, said while picking his nose and excitedly sharing his assassination plan. "You see, such a person on the run must feel very lonely and isolated deep down, so once you touch his heart, he'll consider you a friend. Hic—" He burped with enthusiasm, raising his empty hand as if holding a dagger and poking forward. "Then I can stab him in the back, and I'll be able to, hic, haha… Yabin, didn't you want a dozen fine Shika long sword from Kalendor? I'll gift you ten. Haha. Ayime, if I get money, those jerk wizards from the Tooth Tower, hmph, just throw a handful of gold coins at them, hic… let's see if they dare to expel you. I can also learn some of that… whatever it's called, magic…"

"Ha ha, this guy is daydreaming again." The mercenary companions and merchants around the bonfire laughed heartily.

A warrior chuckled and called out, "Zachary, I remember when you were eighteen, you said you wanted to go kill dragons in the Nigen Underworld, then at thirty you planned to go to Saundfest Mountain to open a magic gem mine, and now you're forty-five, and you're targeting this fugitive. Your plans are getting more and more miserly; you're really becoming less ambitious."

"No, just the opposite, he is becoming more practical. By the time he is eighty, he might even plan to take down Queen Catherine."

"Haha, why not just find a way to become a cardinal? That would be more realistic."

The big man blushed under the laughter of the crowd and shouted, "Do you think I'm just bragging? I already have detailed plans and steps! If you don't believe me, I'll tell you…"

"Seems like you've really made some progress! After we return to Alracia, go apply at the cathedral. No, let's just detour to Celeste tomorrow." The crowd burst into laughter again. Even the three orcs showed smiles. Although they might not fully understand the humor in the language, they could clearly sense the excitement and friendly atmosphere among the group.

A handsome young man sitting next to the big man, wearing a red headband, patted his back. "I appreciate your good intentions in wanting to buy me a sword, but considering your character, even a monkey wouldn't dare to let its guard down around you."

Nestled beside the young man was a girl in a wizard's robe, her beauty shone through despite the hardships etched on her face. The resemblance indicated they were siblings. She smiled at the half-drunken mercenary, "Last time a wealthy man wanted to buy a high-ranking wizard title for his son at the Tooth Tower, he brought five hundred gold coins to the master of the Tower of Flames. In the end, Master Aisri casually melted the five hundred coins into liquid and burnt his two hands. How much are you planning to bring?"

The big man seemed eager to defend his ambitions, but seeing the laughter from everyone, he realized it would only add to the mockery. Reluctantly, he sat back down in frustration.

The young man continued patting the big man's back, laughing, "Even if you really stumble upon that guy and he's feeling generous enough not to be wary of you and exposes his back, do you really think you can kill him? That's a guy who assassinated Bishop Ronis and Duke Murak and broke through tens of thousands of guards. Plus, he knows necromancy—just a spit from him could turn you into a zombie."

"Pfft. What necromancy? That guy is just using the name of the Necromancer Guild to swagger around. There's nothing to fear," the big man said, angrily pulling out a nose hair and gritting his teeth. "The Necromancer Guild has already released a statement; do you think those guys would lie? Even a few old folks from our guild have mobilized because of this; that guy is definitely doomed."

Recently, the leaders of several major organizations on the continent, including the Thieves Guild, Adventurers Guild, and Tooth Tower, received a letter made of gold foil, with platinum thread inscribed on it. The exquisitely crafted letter even had a small magical purple crystal skull embedded in it. The content of the letter stated that the fugitive who was wanted across the continent had nothing to do with the Necromancer Guild. Moreover, due to this person's extreme misbehavior that severely tarnished the Guild's reputation, anyone who could capture or discover his whereabouts would receive thanks from the Dehya Valley.

This was the first time in many years that the Dehya Valley had publicly expressed its stance to the outside world, undoubtedly causing a great stir. It was clear that this message was not a prank by someone else. The reason was not just the opulence and exquisite oddity of the letter itself, but more critically, the way it was delivered. The leaders of those guilds and organizations, spread across the continent, thousands of miles apart, all received this letter on the same midnight, delivered by an owl.

If the Empire of Einfast's bounty had already ignited a fire, then the announcement from the Dehya Valley was like adding a barrel of oil to it. It not only dispelled the initial concerns that people had about the possible connection between the fugitive and the Dehya Valley but also ignited a surge of interest among those who previously did not care much for gold coins. The Necromancer Guild was not merely synonymous with terror and evil; beneath that mysterious and fearsome veil lay unimaginable magical items and legendary scrolls, possibly even secrets of dark magic and necromancy. Many dreamed of joining this most mysterious organization on the continent, but unfortunately, the Dehya Valley's notorious reputation for being unfriendly to visitors was as notorious as its name. However, now that it had publicly offered outsiders a means to touch it, it was like a shadow hidden beneath a dangerous black veil suddenly extending a delicate, fair arm. For those who walked in darkness and had a profound interest in darkness itself, all passion and excitement surged under this announcement.

Yet there was an even more subtle aspect that these mercenaries were aware of but did not pay much attention to. That is, it was rumored that His Holiness the Pope had also received such a letter. Although the church had not made any statement as a result, many times, remaining silent was already a statement in itself.

"Rumor has it that on that day in the imperial capital of Einfast, that man rode down from the sky on a stolen wivern amidst a sea of soldiers to rescue his then-lover..." The young sorceress Ayime gazed at the bonfire, trying to imagine the spectacular scene in her mind, her expression somewhat dreamy. "It's like a legendary tale..."

"Please, calm down, beautiful lady. Remember, that's not a fairy tale, and the protagonist is far from a prince charming. The person he saved was merely bait. That duke's daughter was just pretending to be nice to capture this fugitive." The young man with a headscarf patted his sister's head, smiling as he lifted the cross pendant hanging on his chest, which was a magical ornament only worn by church officials. "Oh Lord, forgive that noble lady. Sacrificing her body for justice is a truly noble spirit of sacrifice. I've heard that duke's daughter is incredibly beautiful..."

One of the mercenaries shouted, "This little guy's getting all excited! When we get back to Alracia, I'll take you to see a woman!"

"Be sincere when calling on the Lord," an old merchant shot a stern look at the loudmouth, gazing seriously at the young man.

"Yes, Grandpa Relas," the young man, Yabin, smiled, nodding as he lowered the cross.

The old man sighed. He had hoped to raise this child to become a holy knight, but it seemed that character couldn't simply be instilled through lectures. The same went for his sister Ayime; he had worked hard to send her to the Tooth Tower in the Eastern Continent to study magic, but she had recently let a prisoner escape out of pity, leading to her expulsion and return. If she could get a senior wizard certificate, she could go to the convent, and perhaps after a few years, she could pursue further studies in Celeste.

old Relas had once been a priest in the Alracia Church. However, he clashed with an envoy from Celeste during a personnel meeting and was dismissed and expelled from the church. Yet, his devout faith in the God of Light had not diminished. He had taken in these two siblings as orphans after his dismissal and truly treated them as his own grandchildren.

Yabin looked over at the three orcs and asked, "Hey, have you seen that guy in person? I heard the peace treaty of Orford and Einfast was signed by him on behalf of the king while he was at the Magic Academy, right?" He had been to Orford three times and had grown accustomed to interacting with these large, furry beastmen. He didn't dwell on the events from before his birth; personally, he found these orcs to be quite amicable, even a bit simple-minded.

"We haven't seen him," the three orcs shook their heads.

Yabin sighed and said, "Speaking of which, that guy is really doing well in Einfast. If he has a bit of patience, he might even work his way up to a cardinal position after Bishop Ronis retires. Who knows what that guy is thinking?" He casually walked over to sit by the orcs and asked, "Isn't it a bit impressive that he could steal a wivern right under your noses?"

"The wivern... is raised by the half-beasts... and lizardmen... we... don't know," the werewolf stammered, struggling to speak human language.

"May the Lord bless you to overcome your stutter. Haha." Yabin chuckled, raising the cross to one of the orcs, who snorted in response.

old Relas glared at Yabin and said, "The Lord says, 'You shall have no other gods before Me.' So, those who are not God's people are heretics. These barbaric beastmen could never be brought into the light of God. Your actions are truly reckless."

Although he had been a merchant for many years, old Relas's devout faith remained untouched by the allure of money. His occasional seriousness often left his companions feeling uncomfortable. Especially since, just a month ago, the Pope had suddenly expressed dissatisfaction with Orford, a city that clearly had no foothold for the church, saying it was a sacrilege for barbaric beasts and God's people to be treated equally. Merchants did not care much about this; after all, the golden coins were not gifts from God, and the Pope's words were merely empty talk. But old Relas firmly believed in the Pope's holy edicts. If he weren't part of the merchant guild, he would adamantly refuse to go to that barbaric, filthy city.

"The Lord says, 'All creatures are equal,'" Yabin smiled at him. old Relas shook his head and sighed. Yabin patted the broad, furry back of the werewolf, saying, "Please don't take offense."

His sister Ayime approached the orcs as well, saying, "My grandfather is actually a very good person; you'll see if you spend more time with him." Though it was her first time in Orford and her first time seeing these giant beastmen, she did not find them frightening.

"That old man is far too serious," someone among the merchants laughed. For a priest, being expelled from the church was a huge disgrace, so old Relas never spoke of his past experiences. To those in the merchant guild, he was just an unusually devout old man.

The orcs managed what might have been a friendly smile, though their exposed fangs looked somewhat menacing. "It's okay. We… the Lord says… everyone has the freedom of belief… and the freedom of speech."

"May the Lord bless those who speak such words." Yabin chuckled.

At that moment, the three orcs suddenly stood up from the ground.

The orcs' movements were swift, as if they had been stabbed in the back. Their fur stood on end, and their three pairs of glowing green eyes fixed intently on the forest.

Everyone else froze. Following the orcs' gaze, they looked into the darkness, but to human eyes, there was only pitch blackness; even with the bonfire burning brightly, it only illuminated a small area in the desolate woods. Moreover, there were no sounds or unusual sensations around. They were already close to the border of Alracia, and with three orcs in the group, the big-eared monsters should not dare to cause trouble. There was nothing in this region that would alert the orcs.

"What's wrong?" Yabin asked the orcs.

"Didn't you… hear that? Something is…" the orcs replied, all three of them picking up their weapons. The enormous meteor hammers in their grip could intimidate any beast or enemy.

"Something? What something?" Yabin and his companions squinted into the darkness, but all they saw was darkness, and silence reigned.

"You all… stay still, we… will check it out…" The three orcs moved cautiously into the dark woods. Their figures quickly vanished beyond the light of the fire, dissolving into the silence of the forest. The orcs made no sound or trace, disappearing from sight and sensation. The forest ahead seemed to transform into a giant monster, silently swallowing them whole.

The remaining people by the bonfire were left bewildered. No one spoke, and they looked at one another. The bonfire continued to crackle brightly, but the lively sounds that had just filled the air now seemed eerie in the silence.

Whoosh. The Kodo beast let out a heavy breath, startling several people.

"Those three guys… are they alright?" a big man named Zachary said, scratching his nose in confusion. "Are they off taking a dump or something…" When no one paid him any mind, he shouted again, "I know!"

"What?" Several mercenary companions looked at him.

"Think about it, what is it that they can sense but we can't?" The big man said mysteriously, grinning, "It must be that these three have caught a whiff of a female wolf's scent, but felt too shy to say it in front of us, so they left this way."

"Go to hell." Someone immediately threw a clump of mud at him. Others laughed, and the atmosphere lightened considerably. In the joking, people thought that perhaps it was nothing serious; maybe the orcs were just being overly sensitive. After all, it wasn't likely that a group of monsters would suddenly appear out of nowhere.

The mood relaxed again, but old Relas approached Yabin quietly and asked, "Do you feel any magical fluctuations?"

"Magical fluctuations? No." Yabin paused. "Did you sense something?" Though old Relas had been out of the church for a long time, he never ceased his daily quiet prayers and meditations in his room. While others in the merchant guild were unaware, Yabin knew his abilities were no less than any priest of the church, and his sensitivity to magical fluctuations, especially with white magic, was keener than that of other magical schools.

Old Relas buzzed his nose, as if trying to detect any unusual scent in the air, but finally shook his head, frowning, and murmured, "Could it be I'm just too sensitive…?"

"Should I call Ayime? We can use the Water Mirror spell to scout?" Yabin suggested softly.

"Forget it. It's probably just my imagination; I'm getting old," old Relas shook his head. He didn't want the others in the merchant guild to know that he and Yabin practiced magic, especially white magic. Using white magic outside the church was a significant taboo in Alracia, a nation of faith.

A faint sound came, and the silhouettes of the three orcs finally appeared within the campfire's light. Everyone let out a sigh of relief.

"Hahaha…" the big man named Zachary laughed as he walked toward the orcs, picking his nose. "So, how was it? Did you enjoy yourselves?"

The leading werewolf suddenly threw a punch. The fist, no smaller than the big man's head, collided with his face, producing a sound that was a mix of a crack and a dull thud.

The big man's body flew back toward the campfire, his finger, which had been digging into his nose, completely embedded in his own head. His palm shattered, and his features became a grotesque mash, caved in as an eyeball popped out, dangling beside him. His neck was wrenched by the force, stretched at least half a span longer than before.

Everyone stood frozen for a moment. Then several people shouted, "Isn't that going too far? He was just joking!"

A wild, blood-curdling howl suddenly erupted from the orcs. The fury and primal rage in that howl transcended the bounds of mere sound; it could be felt on the skin. It seemed like the sound didn't come from their vocal cords but was a pure manifestation of their beastly essence. The silence of the desolate wilderness was pierced by this sound, filling the air. The horses panicked, struggling and thrashing, and even the usually dull Kodo beasts let out distressed moos.

The three orcs threw their heads back, but there was no moon in the sky; the heavy clouds obscured the light above. The orcs trembled and convulsed in a frenzy as they howled.

The onlookers were horrified, and they could tell that this was not just a joke anymore.

The howling suddenly ceased, and the orcs charged toward the crowd. In the firelight, their glowing green eyes were filled with bloodlust, and their white teeth, sharp as daggers, glistened in their gaping mouths, with drool dripping down. This was no joking demeanor.

Screams mixed with wails rose as the people panicked. The orcs' movements and the reactions of the ordinary humans were worlds apart; five merchants didn't even have time to dodge before they were sent flying by the swing of a meteor hammer. Three of their skulls shattered like eggs under the impact, one was completely crushed in the chest with ribs and organs spilling out, and another was nearly severed in two.

The mercenaries instinctively grabbed their weapons to fight back, but in the face of the orcs, especially the ones now seemingly gone mad, ordinary humans were as fragile as insects. The sounds of agony and despair echoed.

Yabin also drew his sword, ready to charge forward, but was held back by the old Relas. The priests of Alracia, despite their rarity, usually had rich battlefield experience, which was certainly not comparable to the peaceful and tranquil upbringing of those trained in the magical academies of the Eastern Continent. The old man quickly assessed the situation and spoke urgently to Ayime, "Quickly cast Weakness and Slow on them!"

Ayime hurriedly began to gesture and chant the spell, but her gaze fell upon the gruesomely mangled corpses nearby, and her voice trembled along with her hands. She could hardly bear to look at even a chicken being killed.

"Merciful Lord, please soothe the chaotic hearts," Yabin's hand grasped his sister's. The gentle and pure waves of white magic washed over Ayime's heart. While it wouldn't truly sweep away all fear and panic, it helped her focus, and she continued to recite the incantation.

The movements of the three orcs suddenly slowed. The remaining mercenaries finally managed to hold their ground. Clearly, their training at the Tooth Tower had not been in vain, as they had managed to restrain three orcs simultaneously.

Relas had been quietly murmuring his own spell, then reached out toward the orcs. A beam of white light enveloped the three from head to toe.

After the white light, the orcs showed no visible injuries, but their attacks ceased immediately, and their expressions changed from frenzied to dazed.

The remaining mercenaries and merchants let out sighs of relief, surprised that the seemingly ordinary Relas had turned out to be a magical expert who could miraculously control the situation.

"Eh?" A faint voice came from the darkness. This sound was so small and light that, if the orcs hadn't stopped and the people hadn't gone silent in astonishment, it would never have been detected.

"Clang." Yabin, who had remained motionless, drew his sword and dashed toward the source of that sound. After Relas had pulled him back and then controlled the orcs with his magic, Yabin realized what was happening. Relas had used the white magic of "Purification" on the orcs. That magic was meant to dispel negative magic, but it had caused the orcs to stop, indicating that their frenzied attacks had been influenced by magic.

"In the name of the Lord, grant me the blade of dispelling magic." His long sword hummed, its voice like a dragon's, the pure white light turning the sword into a solid beam of light. Yabin jumped over one still-dazed werewolf, moving with the grace of an eagle. "In the name of the Lord, grant me your blessing."

"Yabin, come back!" Relas shouted, his voice hoarse with tension.