Chapter 9: The Necromancer’s Creed
“Creed One: I am the guardian of life and death, upholding the dignity of both the living and the dead;
Creed Two: I am the balance of life and death, safeguarding the equilibrium between the living and the dead;
Creed Three: I am the messenger of life and death, listening to the will of both the living and the dead;
Creed Four: I am the chronicler of life and death, writing the stories of both the living and the dead.”
Leiner recited these simple phrases, but even these basic tenets were incredibly difficult for him to utter. It wasn’t that he didn’t remember them, but rather that he lacked the courage to speak them.
“You remember them quite well, not a single word wrong. It seems you learned well during your apprenticeship,” Abyss said, closing his eyes with a satisfied expression. “Oh right, the second creed, the second creed, I seem to have forgotten the specific explanation. Could you please explain it?”
Leiner swallowed hard. “Necromancers… cannot… cannot kill unwilling living beings for their own selfish desires and turn them into undead. They cannot command the undead to slaughter the living for their own selfish desires.”
“You remember it very clearly!” Abyss suddenly opened his eyes, grabbed Leiner’s collar again, lifted his upper body, and shook him violently, roaring in anger. “You set traps, deceive the living, and then torture and kill them! You turn them into short-term zombies that eventually rot in the wilderness, uncared for! You command them to attack the living! This is the creed you recite? Damn beast, what have you learned?!”
“I had my reasons…”
“You were only driven by your own desires!!”
“Wake up! Necromancers are not what they used to be!” Leiner seemed to snap, shouting hysterically. “Which necromancer still abides by those four outdated tenets nowadays? Whether it’s wild mages of the necromantic school or Supreme Necromancers of the Council of the Dead, no one follows them anymore! They’re obsolete! The power of necromancy is not for serving the world, but for satisfying oneself! My lord! Times have changed! You’re not a god, you have no right to control other necromancers!”
“Argh!!” Abyss slammed Leiner onto the ground. He trembled all over, his turquoise eyes shining brightly in the darkness, beautiful yet extremely dangerous.
Flora was stunned. From the moment she first met Abyss, he had always been calm and collected, with a touch of humor, even a bit cute for a man. She never expected him to be so enraged in front of a scoundrel who was completely helpless, nor did she expect him to have such a fiery temper.
She recalled how Abyss treated her after her resurrection—although he was a bit too familiar and close, he never forced her to do anything and always respected her will. He summoned an undead warhorse that obeyed his commands unconditionally, but he treated it like an ordinary horse, even praising it occasionally. Earlier that day, at the guild, he didn’t kill the obnoxious and complicit apprentice. It seemed he was truly living by those tenets.
Flora had only known Abyss for a little over a day since her awakening. She didn’t fully understand him, nor did she know how he would react in other situations, but she could clearly sense his current emotions: it wasn’t just anger, but more of a frustration. He was hating himself for having the power of necromancy but being unable to save those hearts that had already started to rot before they stopped beating, unable to awaken those precious tenets that had died in those people’s hearts.
She slowly walked over and took Abyss’s hand.
“You can do it,” she said softly in Abyss’s ear.
The trembling in Abyss’s body suddenly stopped, and his erratic breathing gradually calmed down. He turned to Flora in surprise. The girl was looking at him with gentle, watery eyes, her lips pursed, her expression sincere and resolute.
She was a Saint of the Church, a genius Divine Arts user who looked down upon the world. It was impossible for her to trust a necromancer who used evil magic within a day, nor was it her responsibility to understand the obsession of a young man who dealt with the dead all the time—but she still did.
Abyss suddenly realized he wasn’t angry anymore.
“I won’t kill you,” Abyss said calmly, “but I will set your undead free.”
“Free? Free?” Leiner lay on the ground, his scalp bleeding from the fall, black blood oozing from the back of his head. He asked Abyss with a crazed smile, “What is freedom? What freedom do the weak have?”
“Being able to fulfill one’s own wishes is freedom,” Abyss said, looking at him coldly, and then snapped his fingers.
As soon as he snapped his fingers, the kneeling zombies raised their heads as if remembering something. A glimmer of emotion appeared in their previously vacant eyes. They looked around the room with a sluggish gaze, then focused their attention on Leiner lying on the ground. They groaned softly and stood up.
Leiner looked in terror at the zombies slowly surrounding him, hatred in their eyes. He tried to grab Abyss’s leg, but Abyss easily dodged him.
“Roar!” The zombies roared in unison and lunged at Leiner, who was wailing in despair. The female elf zombie on the second floor even jumped down, pouncing on Leiner and biting his throat.
Leiner couldn’t even scream before he was torn to shreds by the mercenaries he had killed. A wisp of a soul, muttering silent curses, drifted from his body, but Abyss caught it with his hand and absorbed it into one of his rings.
After venting their anger, the zombies, no longer clumsy, lined up in front of Abyss and knelt in unison. This time, there was no fear in their kneeling, only a sense of respect emanating from these fading undead. Flora, holding Abyss’s hand and standing beside him, could feel their gratitude towards Abyss and the relief of having avenged themselves.
“Flora, your work begins,” Abyss said. “The undead have fulfilled their wishes. You need to summon holy light to dissolve their immortal bodies and let their souls rest in peace.”
“I can’t use holy light anymore. That’s Divine Arts…” Flora shook her head hastily.
“Who says you can’t use Divine Arts?” Abyss shrugged. “You don’t really think you’re one of those low-level undead who fear holy light, do you?”
“Eh?” Flora’s eyes widened in surprise. She then tentatively extended her hand towards the solemnly kneeling zombies and chanted a melodious prayer.
Her palm seemed to bloom like a sun, emitting a blinding golden light that instantly illuminated the entire house, vaporizing the dust and cobwebs. A heartwarming feeling touched Flora’s soul, filling her with astonishment. The zombies raised their heads, joy on their faces. Their bodies quickly dissolved into ashes under the powerful Divine Arts released by Flora. Countless golden specks of light drifted from the ashes and vanished into the air.
“Welcome back, Saint Flora,” Abyss said, winking at Flora. “Now, you are once again the most outstanding Divine Arts user on the continent.”
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