Category: This Necromancer Wants to Capture the Hearts of Deceased Beautiful Girls

Chapter 80: The Journal’s Stunning Secret

“How can you read it?” Maggie immediately leaned over Abyss’s other shoulder, curious.

Everyone was astonished. How could Abyss possibly decipher something that had stumped everyone else after countless attempts? What kind of skill was this?

Abyss summoned his Magical Catfish, retrieved paper and pen from its mouth, placed the open journal on the ground, and began writing.

“This is a special method of record-keeping. The language used is actually Ancient Tongue, but the letters have been altered into an unrecognizable form. It’s just an encryption method, like a riddle. By applying the decryption key according to a certain pattern, you can decipher it.”

Abyss transcribed portions of text from each page onto his paper with remarkable speed, as if he had written the journal himself. A coherent text gradually formed, pieced together from different parts of each page. He also added small markings in certain places.

“Yes, that’s it. Now I’ll extract the decryption key from each section of the journal…”

Abyss flipped through the journal, adding parts of symbols to certain letters, transforming them into new characters. The encrypted text wasn’t simply symbols but combinations of independent parts; adding the missing components instantly changed their meaning.

Within half an hour, Abyss had deciphered the entire journal. A lengthy text now lay before them.

“How do we interpret this language?” Baggs jumped onto Maggie’s head, asking Abyss.

“I’ll read it aloud in Ancient Tongue. This text might contain secret knowledge, but since you’re people Maggie’s mother trusted, I won’t hide anything from you,” Abyss said seriously.

Baggs tapped Maggie’s neck with his tail. “Did you hear that, Maggie? Master Belator trusts us. Keep your mouth shut; don’t tell anyone else.”

“I know, Master. I wouldn’t spread this around,” Maggie nodded eagerly.

Abyss began reading. Even after decryption, the text was still coded, though less complex. He read slowly, revealing the words Maggie’s mother had written.

“My name is Shidora Pringle Sesilian. I have completed my mission.”

As Abyss read the first sentence, Maggie nodded slightly. He had correctly deciphered her mother’s name without her telling him, proving his ability.

“I am a Necromancer of the Evich school. Those who can read this journal must be our descendants. This journal records the greatest and most glorious event of our school – if the world isn’t destroyed because of it.”

“Eh? Ah…” Maggie’s eyes widened, realizing something.

If Abyss could read the journal, did that mean he belonged to the same school as her mother? And since her mother was a Necromancer…

Flora gently took Maggie’s hand, offering a reassuring smile.

Feeling the coolness of Flora’s hand, Maggie suddenly realized why Flora’s embrace had felt so cool earlier. It wasn’t magic; Flora was undead!

She glanced at her master, calmly perched on her head, displaying his paws, and chose to continue listening.

What was there to fear? Her mother was also a Necromancer, yet she remained a warm and beautiful memory.

“I have guarded the Druids’ land for eighteen years. The chosen one, nurtured by Master, has finally arrived. He is stronger than all of us and possesses a kind heart, worthy of this great task. His name is Glad. Although he’s no longer young, he’s still the kind and resolute junior brother I remember.”

Abyss paused.

“What’s wrong?” Baggs asked.

“Glad… that name sounds so familiar,” Leona racked her brain, trying to recall where she had heard it.

“Isn’t Glad your master, Abyss?” Rebecca, with her excellent memory, quickly realized who the journal was referring to.

Abyss gasped. “Indeed. Things are getting very interesting…”

His master’s name was Glad, the one who had taught him Necromancy and instilled his values and personality. Abyss had been deeply influenced by his master; even his decision to overthrow the Creator God was likely influenced by Glad’s teachings.

Glad was a father figure to Abyss, sometimes even a mother figure.

“After Grand Sage Agnes’s death, birds delivered messages to prominent Necromancer factions across the continent, revealing a legacy she left to the world: the ‘Sage’s Blood’. Replacing one’s blood with hers would gradually grant power equal to the Grand Sage. The condition for successful transfusion was purity; otherwise, the power would be greatly diminished.”

Abyss and his companions quickly realized a possibility…

“Despite unexpected setbacks, Glad was injured, and I was placed in a fatal situation by the enemy’s magic, but we succeeded. Glad took the Sage’s Blood, promising to use it on the right person. The traitor, Prodo, tried to steal it, but the fool underestimated us, his former junior disciples. He was defeated and fled. Though I am dying, I am content.”

Abyss was stunned by the information.

Glad had taken the Sage’s Blood, promising to use it wisely, and whoever received it would gain power equal to the Grand Sage?

Could it be…?

Abyss raised his arm, looking at the veins in his wrist. The blood flowing within…

And Agnes in his vision, her hair almost the same color as his…

Chapter 79: The Unreadable Journal

His curiosity piqued, Abyss sprang into action. Upon learning about the journal in Baggs’ possession, he immediately decided to seek him out.

Maggie naturally accompanied them. Despite sharing her tragic past and unhappy childhood, she was cheerful, having finally found friends, putting her past sorrows behind her and reverting to her usual chatterbox self.

“Master! Master! Master Belator is looking for you!”

Maggie led them to Baggs’ residence, a small treehouse at the foot of the Sacred Tree.

Baggs was still in his black cat form, sitting on the ground, holding a fruit and licking its juice with surprisingly human-like movements. He looked up upon hearing Maggie’s voice.

“Oh, Maggie, I was looking for you everywhere. Where were you?”

“I was in Master Belator’s treehouse. Master, you couldn’t find me even though I wasn’t hiding? You’re a high-ranking Druid,” Maggie blinked. Clearly, she hadn’t told her master about her injury.

“Ah, I see. As expected of my apprentice, your hiding skills are as impressive as a butterfly blending into a field of flowers,” Baggs praised Maggie haphazardly, then smiled at Abyss and his companions. “Ah, aren’t you going to rest? I actually visited you earlier, in my black cat form, so I might not have been noticeable.”

“We’re fine, not too tired, so we don’t need to rest inside,” Abyss smiled. “I came specifically to see you, Mr. Baggs.”

“Oh, tell me, tell me. Please, sit down,” Baggs patted the floor with his paw, inviting them in. “I’m free now; having someone to chat with is wonderful. Your presence is like a feast for a starving man; I’m deeply touched.”

“Master, why have you been staying in your black cat form lately? Don’t you use your old man form anymore?” Maggie asked curiously before the conversation began.

“Haha, you wouldn’t understand,” Baggs chuckled smugly. “I’ve discovered that women are more drawn to me in my black cat form. These past few days, several young ladies have even held me in their arms. It’s quite enjoyable. Ah, Maggie, you’ve made me digress again. Tell me, what did you tell Master Belator and his companions that made you seek me out?”

“I told them about my mother,” Maggie replied honestly.

Baggs seemed surprised, then glanced at Abyss gratefully. It seemed he understood that Maggie had finally made some friends.

“Yes, Maggie told us about the past. She mentioned a journal her mother left before she died, which is in your possession. I’m curious about this journal and would like to see it,” Abyss said to Baggs.

Baggs raised an eyebrow. “You want to see that unreadable journal? It seems… you’re interested in the mysteries surrounding Miss Agnes?”

“Indeed,” Abyss nodded. “You must have realized that one of the reasons we came to the Druid gathering is to unravel the mystery of Miss Agnes’s death.”

“Yes, I’ve realized that, and I’ve noticed something else as well,” Baggs smiled enigmatically, looking at Abyss while Maggie remained oblivious. “Of course, this is a secret; I’ll keep it for you if necessary.”

Abyss smiled wryly and nodded. Arcaiste and Baggs were Druids who understood Necromancers, especially Baggs, whose close friend had married one. It wasn’t surprising that he had recognized Abyss’s true nature and held no prejudice.

“Honestly, I’m not worried about showing the journal to others; no one can understand it anyway,” Baggs said, chanting a spell towards a wicker chest in the treehouse. A vine sprouted from the chest, retrieving a thin notebook and bringing it to him.

The notebook, seemingly only twenty or thirty pages long, was made of specially treated and cut leaves, a common practice among Druids, minimizing harm to plants. The notebook looked old and worn, bearing the marks of time.

“No one can understand it? What kind of symbols are used?” Abyss curiously took the notebook from the vine and opened it.

Baggs sat on the ground. “This notebook was written by Maggie’s mother in the month before her death. Maggie’s father initially intended to take it, but he decided it would be better preserved at the Druid gathering, so he left it with me. Neither of them said it shouldn’t be shown to others, probably because they knew no one could read it.”

Abyss flipped through the pages, examining the contents. As Maggie had said, it was written in unknown symbols. Their arrangement followed a certain pattern but belonged to no known language system. The handwriting was neat, not random scribbles, but the layout was strange, with some lines missing characters, others containing unusually small or large characters, creating a chaotic, unappealing appearance.

Baggs added, “See? These are the symbols. Maggie’s mother never told us their meaning, only that the right person would be able to understand them.”

Abyss frowned, studying the mysterious characters.

“Wow, what is this? It looks like gibberish, yet it seems to follow some rules,” Leona said, peering over Abyss’s shoulder.

“What was Maggie’s mother’s purpose in leaving this journal?” Flora was equally curious.

Rebecca frowned, analyzing. “I don’t recognize these symbols either. They’re strange. It doesn’t seem meant to be read, more like some kind of ritual…”

“See? It’s too difficult to understand. I’ve tried to decipher them, but I have no idea what language family they belong to, so I haven’t made any progress…”

Abyss suddenly said, “Wait, I think I know how to read this…”

Chapter 78: Death of a Guardian

“Master says my mother was preparing to leave, as if she had completed her task or found the treasure. But just then, two powerful Necromancers suddenly appeared near the Sacred Tree.”

Maggie seemed distressed. Abyss understood; this was likely the story of her mother’s death.

“The two Necromancers weren’t together. They seemed to be racing, arriving one after the other. As soon as they met, they started fighting. The battle was intense; even the Grand Sage had to intervene to protect the nearby residents. My mother and a few other Necromancers who were also preparing to leave joined the fight, siding with the first Necromancer against the second.”

“The second Necromancer was incredibly powerful; even together, they couldn’t gain the upper hand. They unleashed all sorts of spells, even summoning undead armies. The battle raged,” Maggie recounted. “Master says my mother and the others eventually won. The enemy was severely injured, his magic core damaged, and he fled. But during the fight, he used a vicious spell to injure my mother, causing her heart to weaken.”

“The spell was embedded in her; even if the Druids could give her an artificial heart, it wouldn’t help. Even a new heart would gradually fail.”

“The other Necromancers, including the one who had arrived first, all left, leaving only my dying mother. She cared for me for over a month before she passed, singing to me every day, watching the stars with me. Almost all my memories of her are from that time.”

These words evoked Maggie’s memories; her expression turned sad. Flora gently embraced her, offering comfort. In Flora’s arms, Maggie seemed to calm down.

“Then she died. Master says, as a Necromancer, she wasn’t afraid of death. Her only regret was not being able to stay with my father and me, not being able to see all the beautiful things in the world. She was buried in the nearby cemetery, but no one wanted a Necromancer buried near their family, so her grave stands alone in an inconspicuous place.”

“After burying my mother, my grieving father decided to leave the Druid gathering. He had no friends left; everyone avoided him, the man who married a Necromancer. Only Master still treated him as a friend.”

“My father wanted to take me with him, but Master stopped him, telling him not to bring a child on his wanderings. He offered to raise me, a high-ranking Druid, ensuring I received a proper upbringing.”

“My father thought long and hard, finally agreeing. He left the Druid gathering, and I began studying magic under Master.”

“Because I have Necromancer blood, my peers wouldn’t play with me. Warned by their elders, they didn’t bully me, but I never experienced friendship; I was always ostracized. Before I met you, my best friend was a squirrel, but it only liked the nuts I gave it.”

Flora held Maggie tightly; Maggie seemed content, her expression calm despite the sad story.

Abyss understood Maggie’s plight. Necromancers were a reviled profession, even more so in elven society than among humans.

Elves valued lineage, linking ancestral honor to personal honor. If an elf was a sinner, their descendants would bear the stigma unless they performed great deeds to redeem their bloodline.

Elves generally didn’t engage in mob bullying; it was considered uncivilized. But they had their own way of dealing with the dishonored: ostracization. They wouldn’t form bonds or offer them a chance to belong.

“Do you think my mother was a bad person? I never knew what she was doing, but I believe she wasn’t evil,” Maggie whispered, nestled in Flora’s embrace.

“Your mother definitely wasn’t a bad person. No villain would sacrifice their life protecting something without seeking any personal gain,” Leona said. “Why be a villain when you can be so selfless?”

“She must have been protecting something very important,” Rebecca said thoughtfully. “And it was more important than her life – likely something meant for the first of the two Necromancers who arrived. She probably knew the first one was coming, so she was preparing to leave, but she didn’t expect the second one to arrive as well.”

“Perhaps it was a conflict between Necromancer factions?” Abyss suggested. “Two factions vying for a treasure left by Agnes, and Maggie’s mother’s faction won.”

“Master says my mother strictly adhered to the Necromancer’s creed, as did those who were with her,” Maggie added, raising her hand. “And those they defeated didn’t. I’ve forgotten the specifics of the creed, but I remember it being similar to the Druidic principles, emphasizing balance and reverence.”

“Hmm… I have a strange feeling,” Abyss scratched his head, his expression troubled. “But I can’t pinpoint the source…”

“To be honest, I have a feeling too. Miss Agnes’s death seems connected to current events,” Rebecca added. Her intuition was usually accurate.

“That’s my mother’s story. My peers never wanted to hear it; it feels good to finally tell someone,” Maggie said, hugging Flora’s waist. “Thank you for being my friends. Oh, by the way, my mother left a journal when she died. It’s with my master. I’ve seen it; it’s written in unknown symbols, very mysterious. No one can understand it, not even the Grand Sage. I wonder if it’s related to the secrets of the past.”

“Hmm? A journal?” Abyss was immediately intrigued.

Chapter 77: A Necromancer’s Vigil

Maggie’s answer surprised everyone.

“Your mother was a Necromancer? Can you tell us more?” Abyss asked, then, realizing the question might be painful for Maggie, added, “Ah, you don’t have to tell us if you don’t want to. We understand.”

“I’ll tell you,” Maggie said, touching her healed face, a slightly forced smile on her lips. “It’s not really a secret, as long as you don’t despise me…”

“Impossible,” Leona thumped her chest. “I don’t discriminate against Necromancers at all.”

“Necromancy is quite a fascinating school in our eyes,” Rebecca added with a mysterious smile.

Flora nodded. “Don’t worry, perhaps other Druids dislike you because of it, but we won’t. We know some Necromancers are principled and kind; we don’t judge based on profession.”

Abyss felt a surge of warmth; his companions were not only reassuring Maggie but also subtly praising him.

Excellent, as expected of my companions. Abyss nodded proudly, then said to Maggie, “Tell us everything. We’re friends now; you can say anything. We don’t mind you rambling.”

“Really?” Maggie’s eyes lit up. “Then… I’ll start.”

Maggie sat cross-legged, holding her feet, speaking softly, as if afraid of being overheard by the other Druids outside.

“My memories of my mother are hazy. All I remember is her holding me in her arms, sitting on a tree branch, looking at the stars. My master said she died when I was four. My father wanted to take me away, but my master persuaded him to leave me at the gathering, raising me himself.”

“My mother was a wandering Necromancer, and my father was a mid-tier Druid in the gathering. My master is my father’s close friend. He told me all the stories about my parents.”

“You must know about the eternal pride of our Druid gathering, the former Grand Sage, Miss Agnes. It’s said that after her death, she somehow relayed a message to the Necromancers of the continent, prompting them to search for treasure. For years after her death, Necromancers lingered around the gathering. My mother was among the first to arrive.”

Maggie paused, glancing cautiously at Abyss and his companions, who were listening attentively, their faces showing no disgust. She continued,

“My master told me that when my mother first arrived, she searched around like the others, but after a while, she stopped and settled nearby. She initially tried to rent a house in a nearby village, but the villagers refused her money. Having no choice, she built a treehouse in the nearby woods and lived there. She wasn’t a Druid, so the treehouse was crude, barely providing shade from the sun and offering no protection from the rain.”

“After settling in the treehouse, she stopped searching for treasure and waited for other Necromancers. If any appeared, she would try to make them leave. If they refused, she would fight them. Most Necromancers didn’t dare cause too much trouble on Druid territory, so she eventually drove them all away.”

“There were a few other Necromancers like my mother. They also built crude treehouses or dug burrows, living there, ready to fight any incoming Necromancers, like thugs protecting their turf. But strangely, these Necromancers, including my mother, never fought amongst themselves.”

“Does that mean they had the same goal?” Abyss mused, stroking his chin. “Your mother and those Necromancers were working together, protecting something here.”

“Yes, perhaps, but the Druids preferred to believe they were planning to divide the treasure among themselves,” Maggie said with a wry smile, sighing. “Ah, sorry, I almost digressed. I was trying not to digress tonight. I was talking about my mother and those Necromancers – they would fight other Necromancers every now and then, even teaming up against stronger opponents. The nearby graveyard suffered; the incoming Necromancers loved to dig up the dead, and the resident Necromancers would rebury them after the fights. Someone even joked that they should install doors on the graves for easier access.”

“There was a wave of grave relocations in Keshel; the residents were fed up with the Necromancers. But since my mother and the others always reburied the dead for free, it didn’t escalate to the point of driving them away.”

Abyss blinked, trying to figure out Maggie’s mother’s intentions.

Were they really after treasure? But why didn’t they just take it and run? Did they need a specific opportunity?

Judging by Maggie’s age, her mother had been there for nearly twenty years. Had they been waiting for something that long? Even for elves, that was a considerable amount of time.

“At first, the Druids were quite troubled. Every time the Necromancers fought, the gathering would send someone to intervene – usually by force. My father met my reclusive mother during one of these interventions.”

“Somehow, they fell in love. The gathering disapproved of a Druid dating a Necromancer, but their love was genuine, a part of nature, so they couldn’t interfere.”

“Later, they got married. My master officiated the wedding, with a few animals as witnesses. After they married, my mother became pregnant. My father took care of her, and fifteen months later, I was born.”

“My master said that after I was born, my mother stopped guarding the Sacred Tree. She hoped to wait until I was older, then leave with my father, settling in a remote village within the Elven Kingdoms where no one knew their identities, and live happily ever after.”

“However, when I was four, tragedy struck.”

Chapter 76: Maggie’s Scar

“Maggie? What happened to you?” Flora was startled by the gash on Maggie’s face. It was a significant wound, running from the outer corner of her right eye to her chin, as if inflicted by something blunt, the edges jagged and gruesome.

Hearing Flora’s voice, Maggie’s eyelashes fluttered, and she opened her eyes, looking at the four concerned faces at the doorway.

“Oh, you’re back! I… Ow!”

Maggie instinctively smiled, but the movement tore open the wound, fresh blood welling up.

“Ah!” Flora gasped, quickly pressing a clean handkerchief to Maggie’s face. “Don’t talk; let me stop the bleeding.”

“Mmm…” Maggie winced, closing her eyes, afraid to speak.

Flora chanted a healing spell, and the bleeding stopped, sealed by magic.

Abyss, Leona, and Rebecca gathered around. Abyss asked, “Just speak normally, don’t smile; it’ll reopen the wound. How did you get such a large cut on your face?”

“I was scratched by a branch…” Maggie spoke carefully, barely opening her mouth. “It’s nothing; I have a strong constitution; it’ll heal in a few days. But I can’t laugh for a while, so please don’t tell any jokes. If I laugh…”

“Don’t talk so much; it’ll hinder the healing,” Flora said, removing the blood-soaked handkerchief, her brow furrowed in concern.

Maggie immediately fell silent.

“Why were you scratched by a branch? Aren’t you quite agile?” Leona asked, looking at Maggie with sympathy. “Look at you; such a pretty face, scarred like this.”

“It’s nothing. An apprentice fell from a tree today, and I rushed to catch her. She brought down a broken branch with her, and I couldn’t dodge it,” Maggie explained quickly. “It’s fine; I was just helping. I’m her senior; I couldn’t just let her get hurt.”

“You saved her, and she didn’t even help you bandage the wound? That’s outrageous!” Leona was indignant. “How could she be so inconsiderate?”

“No, no, no… She did thank me. Bandaging isn’t necessary; I didn’t even bother. It’ll heal in a few days; I told you, I have a strong constitution,” Maggie sat up, trying to appear nonchalant, but the movement pulled at the wound, so she stopped.

“Just a thank you?” Leona cracked her knuckles. “What’s her name? I’ll bring her here and make her apologize!”

“Really, it’s fine!” Maggie seemed touched but still refused Leona’s offer. Her eyes flickered, and she whispered, “I’m used to it; it’s not a big deal…”

“It’s deep; it’ll scar,” Rebecca said, crouching beside Maggie, frowning. “It’s not a serious injury, but a scar this size across your face will stay with you for the rest of your life.”

“Ah?” Maggie finally panicked. “Then… how will I find a boyfriend?”

“Wait here,” Rebecca said to Maggie, summoning a portal and stepping into her alchemy lab.

She quickly returned with two small bottles, crouching beside Maggie again and pouring a few drops from each bottle onto her hand.

“Good thing I’m here; otherwise, it would have been irreversible. Neither natural healing nor healing magic can guarantee no scarring, but my potions can,” Rebecca mixed the liquids on her hand with her finger. “Here, let me apply this. Don’t move, and don’t make any exaggerated facial expressions.”

“Oh, okay… Ow! It hurts, it hurts, it hurts!”

“Don’t make exaggerated expressions,” Rebecca carefully applied the potion to Maggie’s wound, gently closing the gash.

Miraculously, the wound rapidly closed, new flesh growing and transforming into smooth skin, filling the jagged gap. Rebecca carefully aligned the edges of the wound, creating a seamless repair. Soon, only bloodstains remained; the wound was gone.

“Itchy, itchy…” Maggie felt the tingling sensation of healing but dared not scratch or make any expression, only furrowing her brow and rolling her eyes.

“Alright, your wound is healed. Feel it,” Rebecca smiled, patting her hand. “There won’t be any scars now; it won’t hinder your search for a boyfriend.”

“Eh?” Maggie touched the healed area, surprised to find the long gash gone, replaced by smooth skin, as good as new.

“See? I didn’t lie,” Rebecca smiled, stroking Maggie’s hair. “Be more careful next time. I saw you catch the falling apprentice, but your arms weren’t injured, so she couldn’t have fallen from a great height. Don’t risk yourself like that again.”

“I… I understand…” Maggie nodded hesitantly.

“Maggie, I have a question,” Abyss said after a moment of thought.

Maggie looked up at him. “What is it? I’ll answer truthfully if I know.”

“Are you being ostracized by your peers in the Druid gathering? I feel like they’re avoiding you, as if you’ve wronged them.”

“Ah…” Maggie was taken aback by the question. She hesitated, then stammered, “No, everyone is very nice to me…”

“You’re lying; I can tell,” Abyss tilted his head.

“I…” Maggie lowered her head, a stark contrast to her usual cheerful self. “Yes.”

“Why are they treating you like this?” Abyss pressed.

Maggie’s eyes flickered with conflict. After a moment, she finally said, “It’s because… my mother was a Necromancer…”

Chapter 75: A Unique Burial

“Gone?” Leona gasped. “Did you cremate her?”

“Please tell me more,” Abyss frowned slightly. While draining the magic around the Sacred Tree, he had seen Agnes in a vision, leading him to believe she was buried nearby. Arcaiste’s revelation that her body was gone was unexpected.

“I can see you’re a Necromancer who respects the Four Tenets, and since Miss Agnes might have had some connection to Necromancy, I’m willing to share what I know. I’m not hiding anything, and I hope you don’t suspect me of doing so,” Arcaiste said, seeming more proactive than usual.

Abyss raised an eyebrow, surprised that in a time when even Necromancers disregarded the Four Tenets, a Druid remembered and recognized Abyss’s adherence to them. This earned Arcaiste some respect in Abyss’s eyes.

“Please tell me. Since you understand my purpose and sympathize with it, we can be completely open with each other,” Abyss smiled.

“After Miss Agnes’s death, some animals did indeed handle her burial, and I suspect she also informed some Necromancers of her burial place within the sacred grounds,” Arcaiste said. “Because after her death, many Necromancers appeared near our gathering. They wouldn’t have come here without reason.”

“Necromancers came here?” Abyss asked curiously. “What did they do?”

“They didn’t do anything, but they fought amongst themselves, especially in the decade following Agnes’s death. Such individuals kept appearing,” Arcaiste frowned. “Master Belator, were you unaware of this?”

“I never knew about this,” Abyss shrugged. “And I’m not from that era; I’m not even seventeen yet.”

“In any case, Necromancers kept appearing, but they gained nothing from us,” Arcaiste continued. “After Agnes’s death, I succeeded her as Grand Sage. I asked those Necromancers why they came to the Druid gathering. A few told me they were treasure hunting.”

“Didn’t you drive them away?” Leona asked curiously. “I thought Druids and Necromancers hated each other.”

“We initially tried to expel them, but we realized they would fight amongst themselves and accomplish nothing, so we simply maintained our defenses and didn’t intervene,” Arcaiste explained. “This puzzled us. I still don’t know what treasure Agnes told the Necromancers to seek. I suspect they wanted to resurrect her?”

“That doesn’t seem logical,” Rebecca raised a question. “Agnes was such a powerful Druid. Why would she allow Necromancers to resurrect her? Necromancers can command their undead; that’s disgusting… Of course, I’m not referring to Abyss.”

“I don’t understand it either, but I can tell you for certain that Miss Agnes’s body has become nourishment for the Sacred Tree,” Arcaiste sighed. “No one knew where the animals buried her, except me. She had told me that if she didn’t survive the tsunami, she would use magic to transform herself into nourishment for the Sacred Tree. She’s within the Sacred Tree, not as a corpse, but as sustenance, completely merged with the tree that protects us.”

Abyss looked up in surprise at the blooming branches of the Sacred Tree. He hadn’t expected such a unique burial method.

In this case, resurrecting her would require retrieving her soul and finding a suitable body as a vessel. This method was rare, not just due to its complexity, but because high-ranking undead resurrected this way would be significantly weaker and prone to madness due to soul-body incompatibility.

Even so, the Necromancers still wanted to resurrect her? What secret had she passed on to them after death? What treasure were they fighting over?

“So, we can’t retrieve Miss Agnes’s power?” Flora asked Abyss worriedly.

“It will be difficult, for now…” Abyss nodded grimly.

Arcaiste, seemingly relieved after revealing his secret, exhaled. “I’ve told you everything I know, Master Belator, because your character and strength are worthy of my trust. But I can’t offer any further assistance.”

“Hmm… I understand… We’ve reached a dead end,” Abyss said with a sigh.

“What now? Give up on Agnes and search for Sophia?” Rebecca asked. Sophia, the descendant of the fifth transmigrator, a talented Dark Elf assassin, was also from the Elven Kingdoms and might be buried nearby.

“I think we need to investigate further,” Abyss shook his head. “Giving up so easily isn’t my style. There are too many mysteries surrounding Agnes; I won’t just forget about her.”

“Until then, will you continue cooperating with us to resolve the current crisis?” Arcaiste asked worriedly. “Although I know you have no reason to now, I still implore you…”

“Don’t worry, I’ll see this through,” Abyss said. “I’m always happy to oppose Outer Gods and protect our world.”

“That’s wonderful,” Arcaiste nodded repeatedly, the sadness on his face lessening slightly. “We’ll be holding many meetings in the coming days to discuss strategies for dealing with the mutated animals.”

…

Abyss and his companions bid farewell to Arcaiste and finally returned to their treehouse to rest.

They headed straight for the guest quarters, exchanging pleasantries with the Druids who now held Abyss in high regard, then climbed up to their treehouse.

Upon entering, they saw a small figure lying inside – Maggie was asleep for some reason.

To their surprise, a long, fresh, red gash ran across her face, seemingly recently stopped bleeding.

Chapter 74: The Connection Between Agnes and Flora

The Druids wanted to throw a welcome celebration for Abyss, but he declined. It wasn’t time for celebration yet. While his accomplishments were significant, it wasn’t a victory, merely damage control.

Fortunately, the Druids weren’t overly concerned with formalities. They thanked Abyss and dispersed, having much to do now that the Sacred Tree was recovering. The Druid gathering could finally return to normal.

Only Arcaiste remained with Abyss and his companions. His expression turned somber again, clearly remembering Abyss’s earlier words.

“Master Belator, do you still require Miss Agnes’s power?”

Abyss nodded casually, not bothering with pleasantries. “Indeed, I still need her power. And frankly, I don’t believe the continent’s current problems can be solved without it.”

Arcaiste looked at Abyss questioningly.

“You must realize the shadow looming over the continent, right? An Outer God. Our own gods won’t interfere in mortal affairs. Only someone who truly understands nature can avert this impending disaster,” Abyss said, his gaze intense.

“I understand,” Arcaiste said, suddenly moving closer to Abyss, almost nose to nose.

Leona, watching, gasped in surprise, seemingly reminded of something.

“Master Arcaiste, is there something you need to say privately?” Abyss remained calm.

“Yes, I need an answer from you,” Arcaiste’s gaze sharpened as he used magic to lower his voice. “You’re not a Druid, are you?”

The three girls beside Abyss were startled.

“How did you realize I’m not a Druid?” Abyss smiled. “I thought it was normal for a sufficiently skilled Druid to seek the wisdom of past masters.”

Unlike his companions, Abyss felt no sense of danger. He admitted his identity much more readily than Arcaiste had anticipated.

“Your behavior is indeed very similar to a Druid’s,” Arcaiste pulled back slightly, embarrassed by his forwardness. “You value balance, you’re easygoing, a pragmatist, and you lack those typical human flaws. I admire these qualities; my colleagues do as well. But I noticed one particular trait.”

“Oh? What trait?” Abyss seemed intrigued.

“Miss Flora,” Arcaiste sighed. “First, I must apologize. Unable to contain my curiosity, I investigated Miss Flora. I learned she’s the former Saint of the Church. Now that she’s with you, your true school is obvious.”

“Eh? Me?” Flora was startled. “Did I do something strange? I’m sorry…”

“Not at all. There are many women named Flora, and the Western Empire has no shortage of blonde beauties. You haven’t displayed any power from the Church, so you shouldn’t have been noticed. Even if you acted like a Saint, no one should have recognized you; very few people have actually met you up close,” Arcaiste quickly waved his hand, using magic to completely muffle their conversation. “But unfortunately, we have a record of you.”

“A record?” Flora was bewildered.

“Why would the Druid gathering keep records of the Saint? I’m curious,” Abyss asked with a smile.

“It wasn’t the gathering that kept the Saint’s records, but Miss Agnes,” Arcaiste said, his eyes filled with nostalgia. “You might not know, but I was Miss Agnes’s classmate and friend. When she was Grand Sage, I was her assistant, perhaps the closest person to her.”

“Of course, there were no romantic feelings between us. I must clarify this; I don’t want any misunderstandings.”

Arcaiste added, his emotions more apparent now. Abyss could see his immense respect for Agnes. It seemed the Grand Sage truly didn’t want his admiration tainted.

“In the last six months of her life, she planned to visit you at the Church, Miss Flora. But she didn’t go immediately; there were frequent natural disasters, and the Druid gathering was busy, so she couldn’t find the time or the opportunity to submit a request to the Church.”

“So, to prepare for her eventual meeting with you, she compiled detailed information about you, exceptionally detailed. I once asked her why, but she remained silent, as if it were a secret she couldn’t share.”

“She was very sincere and a close friend, so I believed she had her reasons and didn’t press further. But six months later, she perished fighting a tsunami. The information she had gathered on the Saint became part of her legacy.”

“I recently became suspicious of Master Belator’s identity, and seeing Miss Flora, someone who seemed familiar, I couldn’t resist reviewing Agnes’s belongings. I was surprised to find that the Saint’s description in the records perfectly matched Miss Flora.”

“Agnes collected information on Flora? That’s unexpected,” Abyss was also surprised.

“So, Master Belator, you’re actually a Necromancer, aren’t you?” Arcaiste asked solemnly.

Abyss readily admitted, “Yes, since you’ve guessed, I must confess. I’m a Necromancer. I came to the Druid gathering not only to solve your problems but also to bring back Agnes.”

The three girls held their breath, fearing Arcaiste would expel Abyss. The Druidic and Necromantic schools were diametrically opposed; any display of disgust from Arcaiste was possible.

But Arcaiste showed no aversion. He sighed instead. “Honestly, I’m willing to help you, but Miss Agnes’s body no longer exists.”

Chapter 73: Return to the Gathering

The people of the Eastern Empire witnessed a strange sight that day: seabirds carrying various marine creatures in their talons, flying swiftly in different directions.

Abyss had executed his plan, deploying his resurrected marine creatures near all the coastal Sacred Tree roots, carried by seabirds enhanced by his necromancy. He estimated they would reach even the farthest shores within two days, completing his deployment across the continent.

After this, Abyss and the three girls rested briefly, composed themselves, and set off for the Druid gathering.

Upon their return, the sun was setting. A sharp-eyed young Druid spotted them and rushed to report. Before they even entered the gathering’s territory, Arcaiste and a group of Druids came out to greet them.

Leona, startled by the unexpected welcome, asked Flora, “Flora, why are they making such a fuss? Did I damage the Sacred Tree’s roots when I destroyed the temple?”

“I don’t think so; they don’t seem angry…” Flora pointed upwards. “Look at the Sacred Tree.”

Leona looked up.

The Sacred Tree was indeed different.

In the setting sun’s glow, she could see scattered spots of color amidst the lush green foliage. With her sharp eyesight, she realized they were newly bloomed flowers.

The Sacred Tree was blooming!

“Wow! Such a noticeable effect!” Leona’s eyes widened in surprise.

“Master Belator!” Arcaiste and the Druids rushed towards Abyss. This time, he seemed genuinely happy, a faint smile gracing his usually melancholic face.

Abyss quickly dismounted and approached Arcaiste. “My, Master Arcaiste, there’s no need for such a grand welcome. It makes me feel a bit embarrassed.”

He meant it sincerely, but it sounded slightly insincere, almost teasing, making Rebecca almost laugh.

“Master Belator, your efforts have borne fruit. Everyone is overjoyed,” Arcaiste said, reaching Abyss. “Did you see the newly bloomed flowers on the Sacred Tree? They just opened. I personally inspected them; the Sacred Tree’s leaves have regained their vitality. It’s in good condition; our Sacred Tree is finally safe.”

“Yes, I saw them. And I have more good news,” Abyss smiled, addressing the joyful Druids. “The other issue you were worried about, the animal mutations, should also be under control.”

There were at least twenty Druids behind Arcaiste, all high-ranking, unlike the younger Druids observing from the trees. They stirred at Abyss’s words.

“Oh? Can you elaborate?” Arcaiste asked, his surprise barely visible on his somber face.

Abyss nodded. “As I mentioned before, our opponent is likely an Outer God. I’ve now confirmed it; the changes we’re experiencing are part of an Outer God’s scheme.”

The Druids began murmuring.

“An Outer God? We’ll just fight him back!” One Druid declared.

“Exactly! If he wants to destroy our world, we’ll fight him to the end! We Druids live to protect nature!”

“Good, excellent spirit!” Abyss nodded approvingly. Although the Druidic school was often seen as primitive and inflexible, their unwavering conviction was admirable. Abyss could tell they were sincere, not just putting on a brave face.

“I’ll continue. The animal mutations are also the Outer God’s doing. He had his followers build a temple at the Sacred Tree’s root, using a vile ritual to channel unholy power into the root, which the Sacred Tree then spread to the surrounding area.”

The Druids were outraged. The Sacred Tree was the Elven Kingdoms’ lifeline, a sacred place for Druids and all mages. To have it used as an antenna by an otherworldly Outer God was infuriating.

“The Sacred Tree’s withering was caused by its roots absorbing this impure power. Just like us, consuming unclean food can make us sick, and prolonged consumption can be life-threatening,” Abyss’s voice lowered slightly. “The Outer God’s power, channeled through the Sacred Tree, granted animals the ability to use magic, forming crystals in their brains. Any creature that consumes them gains that power – but you can all imagine the dangers of such power, right?”

“Poison wrapped in candy…” Arcaiste frowned deeply.

“If all goes well, the mutations shouldn’t spread further, but our task remains daunting. While the impact on neighboring countries is still manageable, most animals in the Elven Kingdoms have mutated. This will cause many problems, and we must find solutions before disaster strikes.”

“Perhaps protecting the people of the Elven Kingdoms is enough?” one Druid suggested.

“Not quite,” Abyss shook his head. “You’re forgetting human, and even elven, greed. Our greatest enemy isn’t the magic-wielding animals, but the sentient beings who covet their power.”

The unworldly Druids were taken aback, realizing the truth in his words.

“We must be wary of those who hunt these animals and warn our young against becoming obsessed with power,” Arcaiste said. “And we also have our greatest enemy, the Iron Lilies.”

“The Iron Lilies…” The name was infamous among elves; everyone’s expression turned grim.

“The Iron Lilies have likely infiltrated the Elven Kingdoms. Border checks are limited; those humans who want to exterminate us have many methods,” Arcaiste said. “They won’t miss this opportunity to gain power.”

Chapter 72: The Next Move

“Our enemy likely requires sentient beings as sacrifices. Just like the Lord of Nightmares we faced before, and the Lord of Submergence I haven’t met,” Rebecca said to Abyss. “This is evident from the fact that his followers only abducted humans from the surrounding area.”

“I agree,” Abyss nodded, concurring with Rebecca’s assessment. This phenomenon might be due to non-sentient beings lacking the necessary essence to provide sustenance for an Outer God.

“And they didn’t just randomly grab villagers and bring them to the underwater temple. I asked the villagers through Flora, and they said the fish-men captured them one by one. One of the fish-men could create a breathable bubble that wouldn’t break, allowing them to transport people from land,” Rebecca continued. “Oh, by the way, Leona killed that fish-man. I hope you don’t blame her.”

“Is that so? That’s good news for us,” Abyss smiled. “The Lord of Bullying’s influence in this world isn’t widespread enough for him to act freely; his followers still need to put in some effort. So, your plan involves targeting his followers, right?”

“Exactly! As expected of the man I admire, you quickly caught on,” Rebecca praised Abyss without reservation. “My idea is this, Abyss: I need you to place sentinels at all the Sacred Tree roots near the shore, to prevent the Lord of Bullying from directing his followers to cause trouble elsewhere after we destroy this temple. But this might be difficult to execute; I know your magic is disrupted in the Stormy Sea…”

“I have a solution,” Abyss nodded without hesitation.

“Oh? You do?”

Abyss explained his strategy for the Stormy Sea: While his necromantic links were less effective there, making it difficult to control undead at long distances, he had a workaround – an energy-saving mode that didn’t require constant supervision.

He would resurrect marine animals, granting them basic sentience through a spell, and position them near the coastal Sacred Tree roots. If they detected anyone tampering with the roots, they would send a specific signal to Abyss through the necromantic link.

These resurrected creatures wouldn’t require constant attention and would only contact him in case of anomalies, minimizing errors. Abyss could then quickly pinpoint the enemy’s location and deal with them.

“Ah, that’s a great idea,” Rebecca exclaimed, impressed. “And it’s much less taxing on you. I agree. So, how do you plan to transport these resurrected creatures to the various roots?”

“Hmm… I can fly to each location and resurrect them there. I know the locations of all the roots, especially those near the shore. It should take about a day, right? Do you have a better idea?” Abyss asked.

“Based on your idea, I have a better suggestion,” Rebecca chuckled. “Why not find some dead seabirds here and have them carry your resurrected marine creatures to their destinations? It might be slightly slower, but not by much, and it would save you a lot of trouble.”

“Excellent, let’s do that.”

Abyss immediately set to work. He quickly located various dead sea creatures on the seabed, resurrecting them regardless of their condition. He then granted them rudimentary intelligence with his unique spell, temporarily storing them within his Magical Catfish’s pocket dimension. Now that the immediate threat was dealt with, there was no need to conserve magic; summoning his familiar wouldn’t be a problem.

“Alright, let’s head back to shore,” Abyss said to Leona and Flora, who were waiting inside the temple.

Flora hesitated. “Abyss, do you have a way to safely transport these villagers back to land?”

“Did you forget about Rebecca’s alchemy lab?” Abyss smiled. “Used correctly, her lab is the best portal in this world. Far superior to those inaccurate portals on the continent.”

Flora was relieved.

The villagers, eager to escape this hellish place, entered Rebecca’s alchemy lab under Flora’s guidance, with Leona keeping an eye on them to prevent them from tampering with anything inside. Their memories would be erased anyway; they would forget everything about Abyss and his companions.

Abyss entered the lab, Rebecca summoned it on the shore, opened the door, and they were effortlessly transported back to land. Flora, having learned about the Lord of Bullying from the villagers, mercifully erased their traumatic memories. Abyss provided them with food from his Magical Catfish to restore their energy, then sent them home in a daze. According to Flora, they would be like their old selves after a night’s sleep, with no memory of the ordeal.

Those who had lost loved ones, however, would have to cope on their own. Flora implanted a suggestion in their subconscious, making them believe their loved ones had died in a shipwreck. This might lessen their grief.

“Did you destroy the temple?” Rebecca asked, watching the villagers walk towards their village.

“Yes, Leona demolished it before we left,” Abyss nodded.

Leona proudly raised her fist. “Smashed it to bits! It was stone, now it’s sand!”

“Let’s find some seabird corpses now; it shouldn’t be too difficult; there are plenty of birds around here,” Rebecca said. “After you send out the seabirds and return to the Druid gathering, what’s your plan? The Sacred Tree’s withering and the animal mutations are mostly resolved, right? Are we done?”

“Indeed, we’ve accomplished a lot. We still need to investigate how to reverse the animal mutations. But now we have something more important to do,” Abyss raised a finger. “It’s time to formally investigate Agnes. I have a feeling she’s the key to solving this.”

Chapter 71: Deserved Deaths

“After we decided to deal with the situation here before looking for you, Flora and I split up,” Leona explained, pointing towards Flora, who was still comforting the weeping victims in the other room. “Flora is good with people, so she comforted those who were terrified. I’m not good at that sort of thing, so I dealt with the fish-men.”

“You killed them all?” Abyss asked, not intending to blame Leona. He knew that despite her fiery temper, she respected the Knightly Virtues and wouldn’t kill without reason.

Leona nodded, her expression hardening slightly. “Yes, I executed them. I was careful; the scene is clean, no contamination. These bastards deserved to die.”

Rebecca added, “Leona was furious. Remember, they initially claimed their High Priest was responsible for all the deaths. We believed them at first. After Flora calmed the victims, she asked a few who were coherent to identify the culprits. Guess what happened?”

“They were all involved?” Abyss tilted his head.

“Exactly. Not only were they involved, but they were enthusiastic participants, eagerly assisting the High Priest in disemboweling the victims alive, listening to their screams… And these bastards committed more than just murder. Did you see the pile of bodies? All the female victims, regardless of age, were raped before they were killed…” Rebecca’s voice trembled; as a woman, she was deeply disgusted by such acts. “From elderly women to little girls, they spared no one.”

“They all committed unforgivable crimes, so I slaughtered them,” Leona said with a scoff, arms crossed. “I didn’t even want to touch them; these filthy bastards, even being in the same room with them disgusted me. If their corpses could pass through your barrier, I would have kicked them out already.”

Flora’s expression also turned grim. She hadn’t stopped Leona. Although a Saint should be merciful, she wasn’t naive. She knew mercy shouldn’t be wasted on such monsters. Perhaps there were better ways to punish them, but for now, Leona’s brutal execution provided some solace to the surviving victims.

“You did the right thing,” Abyss nodded. His Necromancer’s creed was one thing, Leona’s Knightly Virtues another. He wouldn’t order Leona to kill, but he wouldn’t stop her from acting according to her own sense of justice. Human laws couldn’t bind these non-human monsters, but Leona’s fists could.

“So you’re not angry with me?” Leona’s previously stoic expression softened, her face looking slightly pitiful. “I thought you’d scold me.”

“They deserved it. If I had handled it, their fate would have been far worse,” Abyss said coldly, glancing at the fish-men corpses. “I’ll try to retrieve their souls later – if the Lord of Bullying hasn’t taken them already.”

“You can try now, but I’m not optimistic,” Rebecca said. “This is the Lord of Bullying’s temple. According to the captured villagers, they offered the fear and souls of the weak to their god, and they were utterly helpless against Leona, so…”

Abyss immediately chanted a spell, but as expected, the fish-men’s souls were gone.

“How are the villagers?” Abyss asked Flora.

Flora told the villagers to remain calm, then stepped out of the water-sealed room. “These are ordinary people from coastal villages. They told me the fish-men have been abducting the elderly, weak, and children from nearby villages. At first, they thought it was the work of demons, but after being brought here, they realized these monsters were systematically slaughtering people.”

“So, many have already died?” Abyss frowned.

“Yes, the bodies here are only a fraction of the victims. The fish-men dismembered the previous victims and fed them to sea creatures,” Flora said with a pained expression. “These villagers, after being captured, were locked in cages without food or water, left to starve and await death in terror. The fish-men deliberately displayed their brutality to terrify them. Those driven mad by fear were immediately dissected alive.”

“These are the most disgusting cultists I’ve ever encountered,” Abyss said with revulsion. “Worse than the Lord of Submergence’s murderous rabble and the Lord of Nightmares’ treacherous followers.”

“I’ve calmed them down; they’re not as terrified as before, but some have lost loved ones and are grieving. I plan to erase some of their memories after sending them back, so they don’t spend the rest of their lives in nightmares,” Flora said.

“Yes, do as you see fit,” Abyss nodded. “These poor people have suffered immensely. And I can’t bring back the dead, but perhaps I can give them a proper burial.”

“Also, we’ve figured out the purpose of this temple,” Flora added. “Let Rebecca explain.”

“Alright,” Rebecca’s voice chimed in. “I’ve figured it out. The temple is built on the Sacred Tree’s root, like a parasitic tumor. The Lord of Bullying’s cultists bring victims here, performing these cruel rituals as sacrifices. The Outer God absorbs the ‘nourishment’ and returns a portion of the power to the temple. The temple then channels this power into the Sacred Tree’s root, contaminating the magic. The Sacred Tree absorbs this tainted magic, spreading the Lord of Bullying’s influence into the Elven Kingdoms. The source of all the problems is this temple!”

“So, what do we do?” Abyss glanced at the temple. “Blow it up?”

“Not just blow it up, there are other things to do,” Rebecca said. “And we need your help.”