Chapter 2: Undead Girl Collection?
“A necromancer should treat every undead he awakens with kindness.”
Abyss’s master used to repeat this phrase until his death two years ago, when he succumbed to a plague contracted from dissecting a zombie he had awakened.
Abyss gently helped the somewhat dazed Flora into a chair covered with goatskin. He was now in a warm wooden cabin. Despite the howling wind outside, the fire in the hearth warmed his and the girl’s skin, illuminating everything within the room. A small iron pot hung over the fire, simmering herbs that emitted a strange aroma. He gently brushed the dust off the girl’s clothes and combed her long hair with his fingers.
The Church had extremely strict standards for selecting Saints. Saint Flora, during her lifetime, was not only the youngest and most promising Divine Arts user in the Church’s history but also a woman of unparalleled beauty. Her long golden hair was soft and slightly curled, her features as delicate as a doll’s. Her eyes were a dreamy pale gold, and her fair skin was flawless, breathtakingly beautiful even without a trace of blood. Abyss admired her for a while, like a piece of art. He enjoyed this quiet beauty.
“Flora Cicathia Saint Floracess Ping. With me as your master, obey my command, through the cycle of reincarnation, your soul shall return.”
Abyss’s slender fingers pressed against the girl’s forehead as a string of obscure and archaic words flowed from his lips. A flash of blue light flickered in the girl’s eyes, and her dilated pupils began to constrict. A spark of life gradually spread within her lifeless gaze. Necromancy had recalled her soul, and her consciousness was slowly returning to her body.
“Don’t move yet. I need to give you some herbal medicine. Your vocal cords were damaged by poison before your death,” Abyss gently patted Flora’s shoulder.
With that, he turned to retrieve the small pot from the hearth. He rolled up his sleeves, revealing his thin, pale arms, and, ignoring the heat of the flames, reached directly into the fire. A layer of frost covered his arm, protecting him from the scorching heat. He grabbed the boiling iron pot by its base, and the herbs inside instantly stopped bubbling. By the time he brought the pot to Flora, the herbs weren’t even steaming anymore.
“Come, open your mouth and drink this,” Abyss said, bringing the pot to Flora’s lips.
Flora, still not fully conscious, didn’t obediently open her mouth to drink the medicine. Her eyes widened in sudden fear. She whimpered in a hoarse, barely audible voice, refusing, turning her head away. Her stiff body instinctively recoiled, and tears streamed down her beautiful golden eyes.
Abyss frowned in silence for a moment, then sighed softly. “Sorry, I was negligent.”
He extended his left hand, and a gentle blue light emanated from his palm, enveloping Flora. The girl quickly calmed down.
To this day, Abyss didn’t know where his talent came from. From the time he gained memories at the age of one, he had been raised by his master, learning necromancy. By the age of three, he had mastered all apprentice-level spells, entering the realm of true necromancy. By eight, his master had no new spells to teach him. So, his master, already old and frail like a withered blade of grass, took him on a journey around the world, visiting the homes or tombs of every renowned necromancer, searching for advanced or forbidden necromantic spells.
Three years ago, when Abyss was thirteen, his master declared that he had learned ninety-nine percent of the world’s necromantic spells and instructed Abyss to develop new spells himself. A year later, his master, weakened by age, succumbed to a plague and died before Abyss’s eyes.
Abyss didn’t care much. To him, there wasn’t much difference between the living and the dead. It was only because of his master’s dying wish not to be resurrected that Abyss refrained from simply bringing him back to life. After his master’s death, he quickly grasped the ultimate secrets of necromancy and glimpsed the realm of the gods. He spent an entire day wandering the Divine Realm unnoticed, not only confirming the existence of the gods worshipped in this world but also discovering that gods didn’t actually need to use the restroom.
He fed the herbal medicine in the pot to the now-calm Flora. Her throat moved slightly as she swallowed it all.
The herbs took effect quickly under the influence of magic. Abyss closed his left hand, the light disappeared, and Flora regained her consciousness once more.
“Who are you… Where am I…?” Her restored voice was beautiful, but her tone was still filled with panic and unease.
“My name is Abyss. Don’t worry, you’re not in the Church anymore. You’re in a small cabin in the mountains,” Abyss said, looking at Flora with his gentle turquoise eyes.
“So cold…” Flora suddenly shivered, her eyes widening as she looked around anxiously. “I… I remember them holding down my limbs, prying open my mouth… My stomach hurt so much, and then there was nothingness, a long nothingness… Your Majesty, where is His Holiness the Pope?”
“You’re dead, Flora,” Abyss shrugged. “You’ve been lying in your tomb… for forty years. Your Pope at the time fell from a building and died three days after your death. The current Pope is already the second one since then.”
Flora was startled by Abyss’s words. She grabbed his wrist. “I’m dead? You’re a necromancer? I… Yes… I should indeed be dead.”
“That’s right. Technically speaking, I’m your master now,” Abyss said, holding Flora’s cold hand in his, a faint smile playing on his lips as he gazed into her eyes. “In other words, I’m the only one you can rely on now. You can entrust me with any unfulfilled wishes you had in life.”
Flora’s small mouth opened slightly, but she couldn’t speak.
“No matter what you think now, you can trust me completely as long as you need me,” Abyss said, bringing his face closer to Flora’s. “I know what you went through in your final days, and I know who caused it all. From today onward, I am your new hope. Flora, I want you to belong to me, body and soul, one hundred percent. Are you willing to follow me?”
Flora’s heart, which had stopped beating forty years ago, suddenly fluttered.
Having grown up in the Church, she knew that necromancers were cold-blooded evildoers. She instinctively wanted to refuse, but the words caught in her throat. After experiencing so much despair, this slender young man before her was like a final lifeline, making it difficult for Flora to let go.
On the day he visited the Divine Realm, Abyss had initially intended to just take a look around and return. However, during his time there, he discovered a secret unknown to the world.
The world worshipped nine deities, but they were merely puppets, their true master being the Creator God of this world.
The world Abyss lived in was just one of many created by the Creator God. The Creator God didn’t care about the fate of this world. Several major disasters in history were actually caused by the Creator God’s whims.
Three hundred years ago, the Creator God, out of boredom, started a crazy game. He summoned five “Transmigrators” from another world and granted them a portion of his divine power, calling it the “System.” These five individuals achieved extraordinary feats, but a century later, as they passed away, their divine powers naturally vanished.
Then the Creator God messed up.
A few decades ago, the descendants of these Transmigrators suddenly awakened the powers that should have disappeared with their ancestors. These powers manifested as superhuman talents, quickly turning these descendants into legendary figures. However, when the Creator God learned of this, he didn’t want geniuses to appear outside his plan. So, he manipulated the threads of fate, secretly orchestrating various accidents that led to the untimely deaths of the five young women, severing the Transmigrators’ bloodline in this generation. After doing this, the Creator God went off to other worlds to continue his game, but a journal left in the Divine Realm recorded everything.
This might be meaningless to an ordinary mage, but for Abyss, who had thought his life would be peaceful, it gave him a new purpose—to steal the power of the gods.
So what if the five girls were dead? Necromancers cared little about life and death.
The Creator God was conveniently away. This was an opportunity he couldn’t miss. Supreme Necromancy allowed the caster to gain the power of their followers, and this power would gradually increase from zero to one hundred percent based on the follower’s loyalty… What would happen if he used necromancy to resurrect these five girls who possessed divine power and made them his followers?
Abyss was very excited about the possibilities.
As for how to maximize the loyalty of these five followers, based on Abyss’s experience, the answer was to fulfill their greatest wishes from their lifetimes. Once an undead’s desires were fulfilled, building a close relationship would be much easier.
After some investigation, Abyss found the first of these geniuses, the Saint of the Church forty years ago, Flora, who died at the age of seventeen. Today, Abyss’s plan officially began.
Looking at Flora, who seemed somewhat adorable in her dazed state due to her still-recovering mind, Abyss smiled happily.
Leave a Reply