Who Said A Necromancer Can't Be A Priest?-Chapter 56: Covenant

Bob!? That's the best name you could come up with?

[Relax, boy. It worked, didn't it?]

Aaran just grumbled while sitting on Dread's shoulders. He was wearing a big trench coat and an oversized hat. That was his great disguise.

As for the voice, it was Dread's. Aaran wasn't using his own voice for obvious reasons. Besides, Dread's voice sounded scarier and, well… more like an adult.

While the knights were trying to figure out what to do next, Aaran and Dread looked around the crowd. They were necromancers, and they could use darkness to find the cultist.

The denser the darkness, the easier it was to find the cultist.

If Aaran had been alone, he wouldn't have even thought about using Trantua's trick on an unknown enemy. But with Dread's darkness combined with his, things became much easier.

People collapsed left and right the moment Aaran used his core. Even the knights weren't spared. Everyone fell unconscious.

Everyone except Valgo.

"You're a real pain," Valgo sighed, tossing his sword aside. "Also, drop the 'Bob the Necromancer' act, Aurelia."

Aaran stiffened when he heard his real name. It seemed his amazing disguise wasn't good enough. Dread put Aaran down and took a defensive stance behind him.

"How did you—?"

Before Aaran could finish, Valgo laughed.

"How, you ask? Why wouldn't I know the person who killed me?"

Aaran raised an eyebrow as Valgo's face twisted into something grotesque. His skin stretched and tore in multiple places. Sickening sound of cracking bones followed and a few moments later, the Abbot appeared before him.

"What the—!?"

Aaran pulled out his revolver, ready to shoot, but then the Abbot's face disappeared. Aaran's stomach dropped as he suddenly found himself staring at King Nessid.

Dread stepped in front of Aaran. The guy before them wasn't an ordinary foe. Not wasting a second, Aaran summoned the rest of them. Brute and Cerbie flanked him, ready to fight.

The only one missing was Darius. That sulking idiot was still pouting somewhere because of Aaran's decision to stay with the Emperor.

Before Aaran could give an order, the man raised his hands as if surrendering.

"I don't mean you any harm, Prince Aurelia," he said. "If I did, you'd already be dead."

Aaran knew he wasn't bluffing. This man had been in the palace, yet even Trantua hadn't sensed him. That meant he had more darkness than the Emperor. While more darkness didn't mean more strength, it was true in the man's case.

I can't beat someone who fooled Trantua.

Aaran's summons thought the same. This man wasn't like the Abbot. He was on a completely different level.

"What do you want?" Aaran asked.

"You."

"…"

"Not in that way!"

"Uh-huh. I'm listening." Aaran crossed his arms.

"I'm offering you an opportunity," the man said. "An opportunity I once gave your father. Join us. Join the Covenant."

"The Covenant? What are you, the Prophet of Mercy?"

"How do you know so much about us?"

"…what in the Master Chief is going on here?"

The man tilted his head in confusion.

"Master Chief? Who is that?"

"…just continue your recruitment speech."

The man chalked it up to a child's rambling and continued his grant speech. But not in the way Aaran expected.

"You did us a great favor by killing the rogue Abbot. That fool ruined our plans and stole valuable resources," the man said, eyeing Dread. "But let's call it payment for your service."

Of course, Aaran didn't believe a single word out of his mouth. But before he could respond, Valgo's body collapsed like a puppet with cut strings, and another corpse rose in his place.

"What the hell?"

This time, the prophet appeared as a woman. She was tall and elegant, with long black hair and pale skin. But what caught Aaran's attention were her lifeless eyes as she crouched to his level.

She's possessed.

"If you accept our offer," she purred, "I'll teach you something even the Emperor himself can't do."

"And what would that be?"

The woman caressed Aaran's cheek, then stood up and walked away before collapsing like Valgo.

"The Spirit Walking technique," an old, croaky voice answered.

Aaran turned to see the prophet, now inhabiting an old man.

What kind of monsters does this cult have?

"You don't have to answer right away," he said, walking slowly toward Aaran. "Take your time and finish your business. We'll be waiting."

The old man smiled—then coughed something up. With a dull thud, a severed head rolled onto the ground.

It was King Nessid's head. But it wasn't lifeless like it should have been.

Nessid's eyes blinked, and his lips trembled as if he wanted to speak. But without a body, he couldn't say a word.

"Consider it a parting gift."

With that, the old man's body collapsed, and the darkness faded. Bright sunlight shone upon him.

Aaran wasn't in Brineport anymore.

He was in the imperial garden, holding Nessid's severed head.

"What the hell just happened here?"

***

Aaran found himself in the Emperor's study, a place only Donovan could visit other than the Emperor. It didn't take long for Aaran to realize why.

Severed limbs, decaying torsos, and dismembered bodies lay scattered across the room. Torn pages littered the floor, covered in frantic scribbles and cryptic symbols.

Some were written in languages Aaran didn't recognize; others were written in blood. And now, Aaran had gifted the Emperor something to add to his collection.

This chapt𝓮r is updat𝒆d by ƒreeωebnovel.ƈom.

Nessid's severed head.

While Aaran's eyes wandered around, Trantua's eyes were focused on the report before him. After what seemed like an eternity, he sighed, rubbing his eyes.

"Brineport is gone. Every single person there was dead long before you stepped foot in the city."

Aaran couldn't believe it. The knights he had seen, the people he had interacted with… they were nothing but walking corpses.

He was a necromancer, yet he had sensed nothing. Forget about him. Even Dread couldn't differentiate between them. It went to show the extent of the Covenant's abilities.

The Emperor studied him for a moment before speaking again.

"You should return to the academy."

"What about the third trial?"

"As much as I want to give you the next trial, I won't burden you with it right now," the Emperor said. "Rest for a week. I will contact you when the time comes."