I'm The Only Necromancer In This Cultivation World-Chapter 70: Gonna Make This Town Mine
The forest was quiet again.
Smoke drifted lazily into the night sky as the last of the Blood Fang camp burned down to blackened wood and ash. The smell of blood still lingered in the air, thick and metallic.
Aiden stood alone on a flat rock overlooking the ruined camp.
"Status," he muttered.
A transparent screen appeared before his eyes.
[Name: Aiden (Level: 17)]
Class: Necromancer (Death God — Locked)
Basic-Grade Summon: 12
Bronze-Grade Summon: 7
Iron-Grade Summon: 0
Silver-Grade Summon: 0
Gold-Grade Summon: 0
Legendary-Grade Summon: 0
Mythical-Grade Summon: 0
Summon Slot Available: 19/31
Active Skills: Lord of the Dead, Bone Shield, Bone Spear, Undead Reinforcement, Undead Sight, Possession Command, Fear Pulse, Bone Armor
Passive Skills: Mana Channeling, Necrotic Sustain
Skill Points: 4]
A faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
Level 17.
Seven Bronze-grade undead.
And still room to grow.
He closed the screen with a thought.
Tonight’s hunt had gone better than expected. Not perfect, but more than enough. With seven Bronze-grade undead at his command, plus the Basic-grade ones, his strength had increased by a significant margin.
If he marched straight to the Dustwind clan right now... he was confident he would win.
The six Body Tempering practitioner wouldn’t be a problem.
The only issue would be their numbers.
A hundred ordinary warriors.
They would be troublesome. Not dangerous individually, but numbers could stall him, delay him, maybe even give someone a chance to escape.
Aiden folded his arms and stared at the dying fire below.
"No rush," he murmured to himself. "They’re not going anywhere."
The wind brushed against his cloak, carrying the distant sound of night insects.
After a few more minutes, he raised his hand.
One by one, the undead dissolved into dark mist and returned to his space. The clearing became eerily empty, as if nothing had happened.
Then he turned toward the town.
----
By the time he reached the outskirts, the moon was already high.
The town gates were closed. Two guards stood on either side, leaning against their spears, clearly bored. A torch burned beside them, casting long shadows on the wooden walls.
Aiden didn’t slow down.
He didn’t head for the gate.
Instead, he circled the perimeter, keeping to the darker side where the torchlight didn’t reach. The town walls weren’t particularly tall, built more to keep wild beasts out than skilled intruders.
He stopped at a section partially hidden by a large tree.
No patrol in sight.
He bent his knees slightly and jumped, fingers catching the top edge of the wooden wall. With a smooth pull, he lifted himself up without making a sound.
He paused at the top, scanning the inside.
Quiet streets.
Most houses were dark. A few lanterns still flickered in second-floor windows. Somewhere in the distance, a dog barked once, then fell silent.
----
The next morning, the whole town was on edge.
It wasn’t just because of what happened yesterday. The Dustwind clan was in a terrible mood, and when they were in a bad mood, everyone suffered for it. The hundreds or so people living in the town moved carefully, spoke quietly, and avoided eye contact, especially when they saw warriors wearing the Dustwind emblem walking through the streets.
Vendors lowered their voices.
Shop doors closed earlier than usual.
Even children weren’t running around like they normally did.
As for Aiden.
Today, he planned to make sure this town would become his.
But first, he needed to eat.
His stomach growled loudly as he pushed open the door of a small inn near the market street.
The moment he stepped inside, the smell of porridge, roasted meat, and fresh bread filled his nose. The warmth of the hearth chased away the morning chill.
A few customers were already seated, whispering among themselves.
Aiden walked to an empty table near the window and sat down.
A young server approached him, with a smile.
"What would you like, sir?"
"Anything hot," Aiden replied. "And a lot of it."
The server blinked. "A lot?"
"...I’ll bring our largest set, then."
"Good."
The server hurried off.
At the table beside him, two middle-aged men were speaking in hushed tones.
"The clan’s furious," one of them said. "They’ve been sending people out since dawn."
"Looking for the bandits?"
"Who else?"
Aiden poured himself a cup of tea from the pot on the table, listening without looking like he was listening.
One of the men sighed. "If the clan can’t protect us, what are we even paying taxes for?"
"Careful," the other muttered. "Walls have ears."
Aiden took a sip.
Not for long, he thought.
The server returned with a tray, steaming rice, braised meat, vegetables, and a large bowl of thick porridge.
"Here you go, sir."
Aiden looked at the portions and nodded in approval. "You weren’t lying."
The server forced a small smile. "Business has been slow. At least someone’s eating well."
Aiden picked up his chopsticks.
"Business slow because of the Dustwind clan?" he asked casually.
The server froze for half a second before lowering his voice.
"Everyone’s afraid. The clan lost face yesterday. When they lose face, someone pays for it."
"Who?"
The server gave a dry laugh. "Whoever’s unlucky enough to cross their path."
Aiden scooped a spoonful of porridge into his mouth.
Warm. Simple. Filling.
He hadn’t realized how hungry he was until now.
"Do you think they’ll find the bandits?" he asked.
The server shrugged. "They have to. If they don’t, people will start thinking the clan isn’t as strong as they claim."
Aiden nodded slowly.
"They won’t find them," he said quietly.
The server frowned. "You sound sure."
Aiden looked up at him, calm and unreadable.
"Just a feeling."
The server didn’t press further and went back to work.
Outside the window, a group of Dustwind warriors marched past, armor clinking, faces dark.
Inside, the townsfolk lowered their heads.
Aiden continued eating, unbothered.
By the time he finished, his stomach was finally satisfied.
He wiped his mouth with a cloth and placed a few silver coins on the table.
Today, he would start moving.
