Chapter 2

It was nothing short of a bombshell.

“…Zombie?”

Yullia, who’d looked pale this whole time, blurted the word out without meaning to.

“You mean the zombie I’m thinking of?”

“Yeah.”

“The ‘Grrraaargh, I’m gonna eat you’ kind…? And if you get bitten, you turn into one too?”

“Not quite. It’s more like a zombie, not an actual one.”

I’d only borrowed the image of the so-called ‘zombie’ from oral tales passed down over time.

At my gentle explanation, Yullia seemed completely lost for words. Well, who could blame her?

It was already unbelievable enough that she’d come back from the dead after a carriage crash. Now she was being told she’d turned into a zombie?

No—not even a zombie, but something zombie-like!

I had to choose my words carefully to ease their confusion.

“I didn’t have a choice. It would’ve been better if I’d gotten your consent, but… you were all dead. I’m sorry for turning you into zombies without asking.”

“That’s not even the problem!”

Yullia shouted, her voice sharp and rising.

“How is something like that even possible?! I’ve never heard of anyone coming back from the dead. Not even the Saint of the Holy See—who’s supposed to be able to make the lame walk—can bring back the dead!”

“Strictly speaking, I didn’t bring you back to life. Your current state is still much closer to that of a dead body.”

Yullia didn’t seem to understand the difference. Her mouth opened and closed like a fish, struggling to speak.

While she fumed in helpless frustration, Isaac and Edmund tried their best to stay calm and make sense of the situation.

“…Is that your ability?”

Isaac came the closest to the correct answer.

“That’s right.”

I replied plainly.

“So let me get this straight. You never showed any signs of awakening for twenty-three years, and now it turns out your power is… controlling corpses?”

He ran a hand roughly through his hair. Without his glasses, the sharpness in his eyes was unfiltered and intense.

I kindly corrected the error in his words.

“I bind the soul of the dead to myself.”

“What?”

“I force the soul into obedience, and then anchor it into a new vessel. Right now, all I had to use were your original corpses, so that’s where I placed them.”

“What are you even saying?”

Yullia asked, sounding like she was on the verge of exploding.

“When the body dies, the soul usually moves on. But I held yours back. Forced them to stay.”

“We… died?”

“Yeah. Your bodies did.”

Dead bodies walking again—if that’s not a zombie, then what is it?

From beginning to end, the whole conversation was a storm of confusion. But Edmund, at least, seemed to be holding onto his rationality by a thread.

And he seemed to know what this strange—perhaps miraculous, perhaps grotesque—power was usually called.

“…You’re saying you’re a necromancer.”

“!”

“!”

At that word, necromancer, both Isaac and Yullia flinched instinctively. In this continent, that name was practically a taboo.

But just like I always had, I calmly nodded my head.

“That’s right.”

If our parents ever found out I’d declared myself a necromancer, they’d probably rise from their graves. Though… in this case, I guess my siblings are the ones who rose from their graves.

A heavy silence filled the room. Then—

Crack.

With a faint snap, Isaac’s wrist fell off.

Thud, thud…

It rolled across the floor and stopped right at my feet.

Isaac stared at the severed wrist in a daze, the cut end dry and bloodless.

“It’s real…”

For a while, no one said a word.

Then Yullia shot to her feet.

“No way. That’s impossible. Necromancers—necromancy—it’s been wiped off the continent for over 300 years!”

She shouted, but despite the sharp edge to her voice, it trembled terribly.

“And Emily is… a Walker.”

There was no denying that I was the fourth daughter of House Walker. Though there were always those who doubted it, they were limited to mere whispers.

Yullia, my twin, possessed undeniable proof of our family’s bloodline.

“There’s a reason everyone in our house is born with some kind of special ability, right? Because we’re blessed by the gods. And now you’re saying the gods’ blessing… is necromancy?”

It sounded like utter nonsense.

Necromancy was an act of denying the gods, of shattering the world’s taboos with twisted power. No sane deity would bestow something like that as a gift.

“But then how else do you explain what’s happening?” Edmund immediately challenged her.

It’s hard to mistake the chill of death when it brushes against your soul.

“I mean, yes, but…!”

“Also, look at my wrist,” Isaac said, raising the severed limb.

“Take a good look at this cut. Does this look like something a living person has?”

He spun the wrist in his hand. Between layers of muscle and bone, hollow blood vessels showed.

“We died. Today. Emily brought us back.”

“……”

Yullia had no rebuttal. She knew something was wrong with her own body too.

Her hands, once so precise they could detect a 1ml difference in a reagent, now dulled to the point that even her own skin felt like thick gloves were wrapped around it.

She looked down at her pale hand.

It moved when she willed it, yet the idea that her body had already expired was impossible to truly grasp.

But her despair didn’t last long. We had already learned once how to stand back up after death.

After our parents’ sudden accident, the old saying that death knocks without warning had taken permanent residence in our hearts.

Resolve began to harden in Yullia’s eyes.

As she calmed down, Edmund voiced the cold reality.

“If a necromancer is discovered, they’re executed on the spot. If the Holy See finds out, not only will we be erased, but Andrea won’t survive either.”

The entire House of Walker would be annihilated. And that was something even I couldn’t bear.

“What if we just pretend we died in the accident? We could go into hiding or something. That’s still better than letting the Church find out about necromancy, right?”

At Yullia’s suggestion, I shook my head.

“If we do that, only Andrea and I will remain in House Walker. But I’m not a recognized heir. That would make Andrea the only successor—and he’s too young.”

Under Bellond Empire law, heirs who are not of age cannot legally exercise their rights. Instead, a legal guardian takes over until the heir reaches maturity…

“The council would never sit still and let that happen,” Isaac muttered, shaking his head.

Too many vultures circled House Walker, just waiting for a chance to tear us apart.

“When our parents died, Edmund was barely eighteen. That’s the only reason we managed to hold onto the house. But we all remember how brutal that process was, even for a rightful heir.”

There was no chance we’d get that lucky twice. This time, they would’ve taken everything from us.

Everyone’s faces stiffened, knowing all too well what the downfall of our house would look like.

“We can’t exactly announce Emily’s legitimacy by exposing that she’s a necromancer either… This is a mess.”

Now the shock had passed, and everyone was starting to seriously think about what came next.

I knew this was the perfect moment to say it.

“There’s only one option left.”

I met each of their eyes, one by one, and continued.

“Until Andrea becomes an adult, we do everything we can to avoid being found out.”

That was the best solution I could come up with.

“So we just have to hold out for seven years?”

“Yeah. Once Andrea turns eighteen, we’ll have more options to work with.”

Edmund’s icy gaze drifted through the air, calculating the possibility.

“Seven years…”

“Is that even doable? Our bodies are so fragile it wouldn’t be surprising if a hand fell off while escorting a lady at a ball.”

“We’ll have to make it doable,” Edmund said firmly.

“Because there’s no other way.”

He was right.

“…What even is our life right now,” Isaac muttered.

“This is all so surreal.”

Both Isaac and Yullia grumbled under their breath, but neither challenged Edmund directly.

Then Isaac raised his still-intact hand.

“Hey, sorry to interrupt the serious moment, but… my wrist is still off, y’know? Emily, is there a way to reattach this?”

Isaac let out a sheepish laugh. Oh—right. That was still a thing.

“Yes. But it’ll only be temporary. Like I said, your current bodies are… still closer to corpses.”

I frowned slightly as I said the word “corpses”, the term catching uncomfortably in my mouth.

“That means they break and tear easily.”

“Like when your arm snaps just from picking up the youngest,” Isaac muttered, sounding mildly offended—once known for his brute strength, he’d once crushed boulders with his bare hands.

“It might hurt a little.”

I carefully aligned the severed ends of Isaac’s wrist and hand, then bit down hard on the tip of my pinky.

“!”

Before Isaac could say anything about my sudden move, a miracle happened.

My blood floated up into the air like a snake with a will of its own.

It brushed gently against my wrist like a pet rubbing its head affectionately against its owner, then slithered over to Isaac’s wrist and wrapped around it in a smooth spiral.

It looked like a red bracelet at first, but soon melted into his skin—and his wrist was good as new, as if nothing had ever happened.

“Whoa…”

Isaac spun his wrist in wide circles. It was a little stiff, but barely different from when he first came back to life.

Blood-based magic.

That, above all else, was undeniable proof that I was a necromancer.

“How long have you…? No, never mind. That doesn’t matter now.”

Edmund made a clear-headed call. There was no point digging into my past actions at this point.

‘If I told him I snuck into the imperial archive and read forbidden necromancy tomes… he’d probably lose it.’

Yeah. Better not mention that.

Isaac kept testing his restored wrist, spinning it around and murmuring, “Wow…” in amazement over and over.

“Necromancy… My little sister’s a necromancer…”

At his muttering, I flinched slightly.

Necromancers were the most hated beings on this continent.

Labeled enemies of mankind, they were executed the moment they were discovered. That’s why, ever since I was little, our parents had trained me to hide my identity with everything I had.

Maybe that’s why, after a life spent in hiding, my fingertips were trembling.

I clenched my skirt tightly to hide it.

“Emily.”

My name was called out of nowhere. I looked up, startled.

“Y-Yeah?”

“…Well done.”

It was the last thing I’d expected to hear.

“If it weren’t for you, we wouldn’t even be talking about the future right now. House Walker would’ve fallen into the council’s hands, just like that. So don’t sit there acting like you’ve committed some crime.”

Edmund’s voice was cold as ever, but I could read the warmth behind his words.

“No matter what anyone says, this power of yours is a blessing from the gods. And it’s proof that you’re a true Walker.”

He reached out his large hand and gently ran it through my hair.

It felt like I’d gone back to childhood.

“So hold your head up high.”

“…Okay!”

Because I knew just how much this clumsy little comfort meant, I smiled even more brightly.