Karnak, Monarch of Death-Chapter 132: Archmage of the Black God (1)

The long night finally ended, and dawn broke. The castle village, the battlefield, had been transformed into a vision of hell. Everywhere, the shattered remains of zombies and monsters were strewn about. Corpses of dead cultists and necromancers littered the village streets.

For all their wickedness as cultists, many of them had been cherished family members and neighbors. Some had died not as perpetrators but as victims of mind control, acting out against their will. The survivors wailed over the dead.

“Father!"

“This can’t be!"

"Oh no, no!"

Yet, those responsible for cleaning up this catastrophe were gone. Most of the county’s retainers had been cultists, and they had all perished, their lives consumed by Hudel. Sasha’s priests, as well as Alius and Belton, took up responsibility in their place. They worked tirelessly to restore some semblance of order.

The count's castle had been burned down, the castle village lay in ruins, and the grand temple of the territory was in tatters. The aftermath was daunting on all fronts. Gathering what food and supplies they could find, the priests managed to prepare meals and began organizing recovery efforts.

Relatively intact village buildings were designated as temporary shelters for the injured, while the homeless were relocated to improvised lodging. But with so many dead and wounded, they were woefully short on hands to help. Serati and Lapicel, exhausted though they were, pushed themselves to contribute as much as possible.

"Are you alright, ma’am?"

"Lapicel, take this child to the temporary shelter!”

"Yes, Sister Serati!"

Karnak and Varos were also busy, though not for the same altruistic reasons. They had no intention of helping the villagers. They weren't quite that human yet. Instead, they rushed back to the inn where they had stayed, determined to secure their belongings.

"Thankfully, no one looted our stuff.”

"Who would've thought the innkeeper was a cultist?”

"Even if we lost it, it wouldn't have been a big deal. It's not like we carry anything too valuable.”

"What nonsense! Elven-made underwear is incredibly expensive.”

“Sir Serati bought that?"

With their bundles in tow, the two returned to the village hall, only to be greeted by Serati's sharp gaze.

"Thanks for gathering our belongings, but could you lend a hand here?"

Karnak blinked, confused. "Huh? Why?"

Varos blinked blankly as well. "Do we have to help as well?"

"Honestly, even if you add up everything everyone here has done, I doubt it would outweigh my defeat of Hudel in terms of helping this village."

"Yeah, for outsiders, we've already done more than enough. Why do more?"

The two tilted their heads, utterly perplexed. But Serati didn't bother scolding them. By now, she understood. It wasn't that they were being lazy or unwilling. They genuinely didn't grasp why they should help. And she had an idea of how to handle them.

"You're right."

"Hmm?"

"You're absolutely right, Sir Karnak."

"So, can we just rest?"

"Yes, you can."

Serati quietly switched the conversation to telepathic communication.

—If you want to live like a proper human, you should help.

—Why does helping them mean living like a proper human?

—Do you understand why other people act the way they do?

—No.

—Then, of course, you wouldn't understand this either.

She glanced toward Lapicel, who was busy helping an elderly woman.

—So don't try to understand. Just follow Lapicel's example.

—Follow Lapicel?

—Yes. Isn't she supposed to be the last hero of humanity?

Even after losing all her memories, all her powers, and reverting to the body of a child, Lapicel ran tirelessly, trying to help those around her.

—If you don't want to return to being a villain, isn't it best to follow someone who never becomes one, no matter the situation?

Varos and Karnak exchanged glances.

—That’s...

—...convincing!

And so, the two of them joined the rescue efforts. Karnak used magic to clear debris from collapsed buildings to rescue survivors, while Varos carried the injured to safety. Both wore expressions that betrayed how little they understood why they were doing this, but they continued regardless.

Lapicel wouldn’t know either, since she lost her memories...

But she’s doing it instinctively.

Villagers tearfully expressed their gratitude after receiving help.

"Thank you, thank you so much.”

"May the goddess's blessings be with you..."

However, the words of thanks stirred no particular emotion in Karnak or Varos. After all, they would never meet these people again once they left. Besides, the gratitude of the common folk was fleeting, easily washed away by the storms of life. However, the priests of Saisha looked at Karnak and his companions with warm expressions.

“You’re working so hard.”

"You must be exhausted..."

It wasn't lost on the priests that Karnak and his party weren't even from the empire but hailed from the Seven Kingdoms. Despite this, they had defeated the cultists and saved the territory, and they continued to help as if the matter were their own. It was impossible not to be moved.

"So many in this world possess power yet fail to fulfill their responsibilities.”

"These individuals clearly understand the duties that come with strength."

For Karnak and Varos, this was a novel experience. The villagers hadn’t looked at them with such expressions when they were fighting the cultists the previous night.

—Ah, I see. So good deeds come in different forms.

—So just doing good isn't enough to improve your reputation.

—You have to make sure it's seen, or it doesn't count!

Watching the two come to this realization, Serati let out a weary sigh.

—How do you manage to interpret it like that?

***

After a full day of focusing on recovery efforts, it was finally late afternoon when Karnak's group was free from their tasks. Lapicel had worked tirelessly through the night, and she was put to bed in a corner of the room. Afterwards, Karnak brought up their future plans. Based on their calculations, the Brigade of Purification was expected to arrive sometime between the next day and the day after.

"For now, we'll wait until then," Karnak said.

His plan was to stick around, make his presence known, and turn over Hudel and the captured cultists to the brigade. That way, if they ever needed to visit the empire again, things would go more smoothly.

Serati clicked her tongue in exasperation. "For someone who doesn't understand people, you're surprisingly good at this sort of thing."

Karnak responded defensively, as if he had been wronged. "Hey, it's not like I don't understand human emotions at all!"

He could understand greed. Fear, resentment, hatred, and anger all made sense to him. It was love, compassion, sympathy, and the instinct to protect others that he couldn't grasp.

"I'm actually a very emotional person, you know. So why does everyone think I don't have feelings?"

"Uh... well..."

Caught off guard, Serati stumbled over her words, unsure how to respond. In any case, there was still work to be done before the Brigade of Purification arrived.

"We need to get whatever information we can from Hudel," Karnak said.

Varos ran his fingers along the blade of his longsword.

"Are we killing him and extracting his soul?"

Killing someone while preserving their soul in pristine condition wasn't as easy as it sounded. The subject needed to fully understand that they were dead. Otherwise, the soul might wander aimlessly as a specter unaware of its own demise, which made soul summoning far more difficult.

Thus, Varos had honed the skill of ensuring his victims recognized their death in the moment of execution.

Karnak shook his head. "Let's try poking a needle in.”

If they could suck out enough information, they wouldn’t need to kill him. They could then hand him over alive to the Brigade of Purification and accrue goodwill with the empire.

"If he resists too much, though, we'll just kill him and deliver the body. Call it an accident."

***

Hudel was confined in the basement of a warehouse on the outskirts of the village. Originally used as a food storage facility to prepare for winter, it was now the sturdiest building left standing after the destruction of Saisha's temple and the count's castle.

The warehouse's thick iron bars, designed to deter thieves, made it a perfect prison. After instructing the guards to step outside, Karnak and his companions descended into the basement.

"Well, how's our esteemed cultist doing?"

Bound with holy restraints that sealed his necromantic power, Hudel gritted his teeth. "Hmph! No matter what you do, I will not talk!"

With a dismissive shrug, Karnak cast a soundproofing barrier around the room. "Good. Then don't talk."

After ensuring they wouldn't be overheard, he extended a tendril of chaotic magic, shaping it into a long, thin needle. Seeing this, Hudel's face twisted in terror.

"W-what are you doing?"

Thwip!

The needle plunged into the back of Hudel's head. His expression instantly changed, going slack and vacant.

"Urrrgh..."

Drool dribbled from his open mouth as he slumped forward.

"This gets easier every time," Karnak mused, his tone casual.

He had grown proficient at manipulating the brain with chaos magic, achieving results almost as efficient as necromancy itself.

"Proof that there's nothing in this world you can't get better at with practice."

Varos snorted. "That might be the most corrupt take on the value of effort I've ever heard."

Serati, listening to their exchange, wore a conflicted expression. She couldn't tell whether she was growing used to their antics or losing her own sense of normalcy.

Am I okay? I'm not sure anymore.

Once Hudel's mind was entirely subdued, Karnak issued his command. "Now, spill your guts.”

***

Hudel Grental's childhood bore many similarities to Karnak’s. While he wasn't a bastard child, he had three older brothers, making his chances of inheriting the territory nearly nonexistent. Like Karnak, he grew up unloved under a father who viewed his children as little more than property. 𝑓𝑟𝑒𝘦𝓌𝑒𝑏𝑛𝑜𝘷𝑒𝘭.𝒸𝘰𝑚

However, there was one key difference. Unlike Karnak, who had been dismissed as a scoundrel, Hudel had been a prodigy from a young age.

This brilliance, however, became a curse. His jealous brothers relentlessly bullied him, fearing his potential. Their father, the previous lord, only demanded that Hudel serve and obey his eldest brother, refusing to tolerate any defiance. At one point, Hudel had considered leaving his family altogether to pursue a path as a mage or priest.

But becoming a mage or priest required more than intellect. It demanded innate talent for mana or divine power. Unfortunately for Hudel, he possessed no such gift. Like Karnak, he was born without the natural affinity needed for either path.

Everything changed for Hudel five years ago, when the first tendrils of the Shadow of Doom descended upon this world. Absorbing that darkness granted Hudel the ability to wield immense deathly power through sheer will alone.

For a boy in his late teens, it was an overwhelming temptation. Yet, Hudel showed a side unlike most necromancers. Instead of reveling in the power, he feared it.

Power that cannot be controlled is nothing but a disaster.

At the time, little was known about the Shadow of Doom. However, Hudel instinctively understood its connection to necromancy. He convinced his father to send him to study abroad in the capital, Thea Krahan. He claimed he wanted to deepen his knowledge to better support his brothers and the family estate.

For the Grental household, this was an ideal solution. It resolved the thorny issue of inheritance without any further disputes, and there was no reason to oppose it. Thus, Hudel enrolled in the academy in the capital.

While studying administration and other academic disciplines, he also devoted himself to learning magical theory and combing through ancient texts—all in search of information about necromancy.

I need to find a way to properly use this power. Until then, no one can know about it.

He was cautious, methodically collecting materials over two years without anyone catching on. He even managed to grasp the basics of necromancy. But eventually, his secrecy failed. While secretly practicing necromancy in a deserted forest, a woman appeared before him.

"Have you mastered that much through self-study? You're quite an intriguing child."

Hudel already knew who she was. She occasionally visited the academy, and though he had only ever seen her from afar, her identity was unmistakable. At that moment, Hudel resigned himself to his fate.

The woman before him was the imperial court mage, Elezar de Reflasion. What could he possibly do in the presence of a great archmage? But then, something unexpected happened. A subtle yet unmistakable aura of darkness radiated from her entire being.

"Ne-necromancy?"

Hudel was stunned. He understood the universal truth that magic and necromancy were fundamentally incompatible. And yet, an archmage—an esteemed seeker of the tenth circle —had mastered necromancy? How was that possible?

"I will take you under my wing, child.” Her soft voice tickled his ears. "If you wish to master the true power of darkness, follow me.”

***

“I see.” A glimmer of recognition flickered in Karnak's eyes. “So it’s Elezar?