The Necromancer's Servant

Sunlight broke through the blockade of the distant mountain peaks, and life was sprinkled into the valley alongside this precious light. Several species of ferns unique to this place slowly unfurled their leaves, hoping to capture as much of the scarce sunlight as possible, while mushrooms growing in the crevices of the rocks seemed to accelerate their growth. Two or three grey renders popped out from somewhere, peeking around, but immediately fled upon spotting the corpse of a beamon lying near a massive rock.

However, if they had sufficient discernment, they would have noticed that this was merely the corpse of a beamon, and a rather damaged one at that. Its fur, once impervious to the sharpest swords, was riddled with wounds, revealing the dull gray muscle beneath, and several of its enormous claws had been broken off.

Asa jumped onto the beamon's head and sat cross-legged, quietly going through his meditation technique from beginning to end. Once his mind was as clear as water and his mental state reached its peak, he slowly infused all his magical energy into the beamon's body.

He had to be exceedingly careful; this beamon's corpse was crucial for their escape. Despite having been particularly cautious over the past two days, the repeated magical stimulation and control had already rendered the beamon's internal structure quite fragile. If there was any mistake in the corpse control spell, it would instantly decay into a pile of rotten flesh. At their current state and strength, they could no longer hunt another creature to turn into a puppet corpse, and he didn't have the confidence to create another one himself.

Sweat trickled down Asa's forehead. Controlling a puppet corpse of a large and powerful beamon required far more magical power and mental concentration than manipulating other corpses. Creating a zombie would naturally be easier, but zombies had a limited lifespan and significantly reduced combat capability, moving at a painfully slow pace. Being unable to keep up with the group would render them useless. Therefore, he could only make this more complex but durable puppet corpse that could maintain its combat effectiveness.

Finally, the beamon's body twitched. Asa let out a long sigh of relief and jumped down. He had succeeded. But today was definitely the last day; by tomorrow, this enormous corpse would likely decompose to the point where even bones would remain. He slowly turned to the orc standing nearby, who had been guarding him, and said, "We must exit the valley today."

"Understood. Yes." the orc, Luken, nodded. He was a young, strong, and intelligent orc with yellow-white fur and eyes that seemed more human than wolf-like, indicating a certain intelligence that could rival even humans. What intrigued Asa further was that, although Luken spoke with the distinctive strange tone of an orc, he was already quite fluent—this couldn't be attributed to intelligence alone.

But Asa did not inquire further. Here, all energy and plans were focused on how to survive the next moment. He sighed and looked up at the towering peaks around him, mountains that seemed to touch the heavens. No matter how hard he tried, he could not grasp their entirety; thick clouds hovered around the mountain slopes, and above them were likely even higher, snow-capped peaks. What lay above remained a mystery.

In the crevices between these majestic, wondrous, and perilous mountains, all life seemed so small and powerless. Whether it was himself or the orc beside him, or even the beamons living here, it was the same. Gazing at the peaks that seemed to support the endless sky, Asa felt a sense of reverence for the first time in his life.

It was a true reverence that emanated from his soul, a respect for the heavens and the earth. Only those who had come here would understand how powerless and ridiculous the worship of the gods seemed; if there were gods in this world, they would surely reside atop those peaks.

From the clouds came the faint sound of clanging metal, mingling with the omnipresent wind—a familiar melody heard throughout the Saundfest Mountains. Asa listened closely; it should just be two or three giant eagles rather than the terrifying thunderbirds. He glanced at Luken and gestured.

The orc closed his eyes, his furry ears twitching as he estimated their flying direction and altitude from the sounds before nodding, "About a thousand meters high, heading northwest."

Asa breathed a sigh of relief and waved his hand. "Let's move out." He hoped this would be the last time he heard the sounds of those giant birds. Every day here brought encounters with birds of prey as fearsome as wiverns, and they could only rely on the beamon's puppet corpse to fend them off. The team searching for minerals on the mountainside had been unable to avoid a battle with a thunderbird surrounded by blue-white lightning. Although they had ultimately killed it and obtained over a dozen feathers imbued with magical power from its neck, it had come at a heavy cost: one orc and six lizardmen.

Unfortunately, these naturally magical creatures couldn't be transformed into puppet corpses; otherwise, their unique aura and might could scare off other predators just as the beamon's corpse could deter the grey renders. Transforming the giant eagle's corpse was out of the question. A giant bird recklessly invading their airspace, especially one carrying other creatures, might attract dozens of its kin to attack. Thus, they could only continue to move forward step by step toward the outside.

Luken led the others out from beneath two giant rocks, ready to press on. But soon, there was bad news. The ogre named Krolin's injuries had worsened further; even its tenacious life force, similar to that of a lizardman, could no longer support its body in walking. The ribs, as thick as arms, had been shattered, and several wounds almost deep enough to reach the innards had slightly healed under healing magic but were still rapidly draining the ogre's energy and vitality. If it hadn't been for the thick steel armor shielding him initially, his massive and sturdy body would have been reduced to a heap of rags under the beamon's claws.

Asa pondered for a moment and commanded, "Have him remove his armor and discard his weapon."

After discarding nearly a thousand pounds of steel armor and spiked mace, the severely wounded ogre was carried forward by the beamon's puppet corpse. However, for this, they had to abandon a small pouch that possibly contained precious magical gems and star eyes.

"I admire your decision, though it may not be the best one," the orc Luken said quietly to Asa, carrying a small pouch of raw ore. A piece of star eye and magical gem could be worth a fortune, and whether that ogre could be saved was still uncertain.

Asa shook his head and said lightly, "Theodorus would also hope for one more to get out of here if possible."

Four ogres, six orcs, and ten lizardmen—each of these beasts entering the depths of the Saundfest Mountains were the elite warriors of their clans. This small group of ten could be considered a significant force within the Orford army. Now, only two ogres, two orcs, and one lizardman remained. They were barely halfway through their journey, and all were injured and exhausted. But because of this, each of the beasts that could survive this life-and-death trial would be the cream of the crop, the bravest of the brave—this was the true wealth of Orford. More importantly, in this situation, such choices would strengthen their bonds, which Theodorus had always valued highly; this invisible strength had a profound impact on Orford, far beyond what a few magical gems could measure.

There was another reason that only Asa knew. The injuries of this ogre and the losses of the other beasts stemmed from his misjudgment. He genuinely hoped that one more person could escape.

Luken nodded. It was unclear whether he was expressing agreement or understanding the deeper meaning behind Asa's words.

Another orc and a relatively uninjured ogre looked over with sympathetic gazes—Alkin and Veer. The last lizardman, Viste, let out a sigh.

Although they had all been too busy to communicate over these past few days, the shared experience of life and death had allowed them to become familiar with each other more quickly. They said nothing, silently carrying their burdens and moving forward, understanding each other's expressions and glances enough.

Asa spread out the map. It was drawn by Grutt, detailed with the terrain of the front end of the valley, every water source, and marked with the beasts that lurked about. If Asa hadn't decided to delve too deep into the valley and climbed up to the hillside, venturing into areas beyond the map, he wouldn't have lost so many people. Of course, there wouldn't have been such a great harvest either. A total of five bags of raw ore—this was definitely the largest amount ever brought out from Saundfest, nearly equal to the total output of the previous decades.

The Saundfest Mountains were rich in a wide variety of magical resources. Whether used directly after processing or crafted into magical weapons, armor, or tools, they were unparalleled treasures that many dreamed of obtaining. However, the immense wealth hidden there was matched by equally immense dangers. Even the enigmatic Dehya Valley and Nigen's underground labyrinth faded in comparison to the towering majesty of those peaks. No one could deny that this abrupt mountain range, rising in the northern wilderness, was the most perilous place on the continent.

The region was plagued by treacherous weather, with sudden thunderstorms and snow hurricanes occurring at any moment. The survival conditions were extremely harsh, with almost no food or water sources suitable for human consumption. Adding to the peril, the beamons and Thunderbirds that resided here were among the most dangerous and aggressive creatures on the continent. Even the strongest warriors appeared weak and powerless before these ferocious giants.

Moreover, the abundance of magical minerals in the mountains caused constant chaotic magical fluctuations throughout the area. Lesser-skilled mages were often unable to use magic at all in such an environment. Because of these brutal conditions, the amount of magical materials successfully brought out from the mountains over the years remained pitifully small. Conversely, the number of people who perished there, becoming prey for the beasts, grew steadily higher.

This operation by Orford had taken tremendous effort. To guard against the Necromancer Guild, Grutt couldn't stay away from Orford for long, so Asa was tasked with leading a carefully selected team of orcs equipped with the best gear and supplies deep into the mountains. Only these orcs, who were extremely skilled at surviving in the wild, could endure this harsh environment for a longer time.

After arriving here, Asa made a strange discovery. He couldn't tell if it was because of the Dark Meditation or the leaf of the World Tree, but his magic seemed unaffected here. According to Theodorus, no matter how powerful a mage was, using magic in this area would be significantly disrupted, but Asa felt nothing of the sort. Thus, he made a bold decision on the spot: to explore areas that even Grutt had not ventured into, not just searching in the valley but also climbing up the mountain. The easily accessible things in the valley had already been searched through by treasure hunters over the years.

The reason he was bold enough to do this was due to his confidence in his necromancy. As long as he could kill a beamon and turn it into a puppet corpse, he could then more easily slay other beamons, create more puppet corpses, and keep growing stronger...

It wasn't until later that Asa realized he was far too confident and careless. His self-assurance nearly led to the annihilation of the entire team.

While beamons have considerable resistance to magic, it would have been much easier to deal with them using poison magic or the vampire knife crafted by Sandru. Unfortunately, any living being killed by necromancy undergoes a mutation of their life force, making it impossible to turn them into puppet corpses. Thus, the team could only fight hard against a beamon with the help of a few puppet corpses made from grey renders. After one lizardman died and one ogre was injured, they finally managed to kill that juvenile beamon.

When facing the juvenile beamon, Asa used corpse control magic to create a puppet, but the result was merely a pile of sludge. At that time, Asa thought it was an accident due to his inexperience with such a corpse. However, after failing a third time, Asa was horrified to discover that he simply didn't have the ability to create a puppet corpse from such a massive creature.

His magical power was indeed abundant, and his necromancy was not low either. However, he had forgotten that his ample magic power came from external sources, and his rapid advancement in necromancy was aided by dark meditation. What he lacked was the proficiency and delicate control of a true spellcaster, which are the essence of magic, accumulated through time and experience.

He could create and control hundreds of crows, as well as several grey renders that were even taller and stronger than bears. But when confronted with a beamon whose size was almost like a small mountain and whose life force was incredibly vigorous, he realized his naivety. With his level of magical control, not much higher than that of a magic apprentice, he simply couldn't fully control the enormous power within it. Necromancy is a very delicate art; even a slight mistake can lead to failure. Given the size and strength of a beamon, even Sandru himself would likely only be able to control three or four puppet corpses at most.

After several failures in creating puppet corpses, the combat effectiveness and number of the team gradually diminished to the point where they could no longer fight against the beamons. The last battle with the adult beamon left everyone heavily injured; even the strongest ogre, Krolin, was on the brink of death, and Asa was nearly in despair. Whether it was luck or a burst of desperation, Asa finally succeeded in turning that beamon into a puppet corpse. From then on, they relied on it as their main force, fending off the attacks of giant eagles and other beamons, and finally collected four bags of raw ore on the mountainside.

At least from the outcome, his plan was indeed successful. However, Asa couldn't feel any joy. The deaths of so many orcs could be attributed to his misjudgment; these were the elites of Orford, the heroes of their clan. Moreover, he could not forget that one lizardman and one ogre had been torn to pieces by the beamon's giant claws while trying to protect him.

On the way down the mountain, Asa discovered several scattered skeletons that had been dead for who knows how many years, with another bag of raw ore beside them. Only top-tier powerhouses could venture deep into the Saundfest Mountains. From the high-level magical artifacts, weapons, and staffs on the skeletons, it was clear that they must have been a well-composed and indeed very strong team. Perhaps they were even prominent figures during their lifetime; unfortunately, here, these heroes, burdened with many stories and legends, died silently like rats in a gutter.

From these corpses, Asa not only obtained a bag of raw ore but also two pieces of magical leather armor and some magical equipment like bracers and boots. These were all valuable high-grade goods, and most importantly, there were two well-preserved magical scrolls—just the items he could use right now.

Carefully examining the map, Asa considered all factors and pondered repeatedly, finally sighing in relief. According to the markings on the map, at their current speed, they should arrive at the valley entrance just around noon.

That was a small gap wedged between two high mountains, the entrance to the deepest part of the Saundfest Mountains, and also the only exit they could reach now. As long as they passed through that gap, they would be out of the most dangerous area of the Saundfest Mountains, and the chances of encountering Thunderbirds and beamons would be very low. Then, after about another day's journey, they would reach a safe zone where reinforcements were waiting for them.

Noon was when the wind was at its calmest, and it was also the only chance to exit the valley. At other times, the strong winds mixed with fragments of ice could even blow a orc away. When they entered the valley at night, Asa, along with the orcs and lizardmen, were blown in directly; one unfortunate lizardman was sent crashing against the rocks by a gust, turning into lizard mush.

However, noon was also when the beamons were most active. Asa remembered that the valley entrance was a territory where an adult giant beast roamed. Late summer was the time when the continent's fiercest, most dangerous, and most aggressive beasts were on the prowl for food. Sneaking past a beamon was impossible; no matter how they tried to hide their traces, the scent of the party would surely attract that adult beamon. The smell of the orc and ogre would be like the aroma of roasted chicken and goose to a beamon that had grown weary of the rough meat of grey renders, akin to a person who had eaten nothing but vegetables and radishes for a month.

A fully grayish-white adult giant beast. On Grutt's map, it was marked with a large red dot, standing out as the most prominent symbol on the entire black-lined map. It was clear that even Grutt, who drew the map, was quite concerned about the dangers here.

However, Asa wasn't particularly worried. This could be considered the last battle in the valley, and the two scrolls as a last resort could be used without hesitation. One was a white magic "Paralyze" and the other a fire-based "Fire Burst." The scrolls had been carefully wrapped in specially treated magical parchment by the adventurers, and even now, after their owners had turned to dust, they remained intact and fully usable.

From these two scrolls, it was clear that this team of adventurers had indeed been extraordinary, possessing even the rare and valuable "Paralyze" scroll. Although this spell wasn't considered top-tier, transcribing it into a scroll for immediate casting was a skill that only Bishop Ronis among those Asa knew could achieve. The church had always strictly prohibited clergy from transcribing white magic into scrolls, so for a cardinal to secretly create such a thing would be exceedingly difficult. This made such valuable items truly rare and hard to come by. To ensure the effectiveness of these precious scrolls, the magical materials used to create them were undoubtedly of the highest quality. In terms of rarity and value, this scroll was probably worth as much as a Star Eye.

As for the "Fire Burst" scroll, while it could be purchased with money, there were not many top-tier fire mages on the continent. Given the complexity of crafting such scrolls, which also slightly depleted their magical power, each mage could only produce a few in a year. There were certainly wealthy individuals eager to possess scrolls capable of demolishing a city wall, leading to inflated prices.

Asa even felt a bit of anticipation for the appearance of the beamon because once it was taken down, he could finally leave this dreadful place. Using such high-level scrolls would be a rare luxury for him. If circumstances allowed, he might even be able to resolve the battle using just one. He touched the knife at his back, and for the first time in many days, he unconsciously smiled a bit. Success was within reach, and this truly was the last battle; he could act without worry.

The troop's progress was just as Asa expected. There were indeed no unforeseen events along the way. Before noon, when the wind began to calm, they arrived at the valley entrance.

This mountain gap, if seen elsewhere, would appear as a wide-open space. It was over a mile wide and more than five miles long, shaped like a funnel that opened toward the valley. On both sides stood sheer cliffs over a thousand meters high, with bizarrely protruding and recessed rocks everywhere. Due to the unique climate and terrain of the Saundfest Mountains, strong winds blew into the valley here except for around noon. The already powerful winds were compressed by the funnel-shaped terrain at the entrance, transforming into a violent gust capable of tossing a person around like a straw doll, creating a natural barrier that allowed entry but not exit.

Seeing the exit not far ahead, every orc felt a surge of excitement. After walking on the edge of death for so many days and witnessing comrades turned into corpses almost every day, the exit was finally within sight. The relatively energetic lizardman, Viste, let out a strange hiss.

Asa didn't share their excitement. As the leader—albeit one who had made significant mistakes—he needed to maintain clarity and vigilance at all times. Standing in such a strong updraft, their scent could waft dozens of meters into the valley.

Sure enough, Asa's keen senses detected a slight tremor in the ground. Then, the ears of the two orcs perked up.