Chapter 9

—Contractor. You are a born necromancer. Though your skills may have rusted from lack of practice, the magic flowing through your body must have awakened from childhood.

“Yeah.”

—How that magic is used and manifested differs from necromancer to necromancer. Some, like you, raise the dead. Others dig through minds. Some even reshape their bodies into parts of monsters.

Rev narrowed his eyes, scanning me up and down as if sizing me up.

—Ideally, summoning demons would be your specialty, but for now, it’s better to start with how to handle familiars.

“I want to make them sturdier than they are now. What do I have to do?”

—There’s a reason your siblings move around like clumsy puppets. A corpse can’t heal itself, and you reanimated them using your blood when they were already in pieces. Of course they’re unstable.

He added that all I’d really done was oil stiff joints with my blood—rigor mortis loosened by sheer force.

“Isn’t there anything better than patching up Isaac’s wrist? That was just a temporary fix.”

—Using a large quantity of blood, or extracting pure magic from that blood, could do the trick.

“Okay, but… how do you extract that pure magic?”

—Weren’t you looking for something you could do now? Drawing pure magic from blood is something that takes years of practice, ideally started from childhood.

Rev licked his paw again, like a real cat.

“Then… is there another way? Something to make them stronger—permanently.”

—You sure like taking shortcuts.

He looked me up and down and clicked his tongue with theatrical disappointment. Not that I was sure cats even could do that.

—Corpses rot. It’s only natural they grow weaker over time. There’s only one way to stop that.

“What… what is it?”

I swallowed hard.

—A sacrifice.

“What?”

—If you make them absorb another corpse, the issue solves itself. Fresh human bodies are best, of course.

His tone was disturbingly casual.

“…Just explain how to extract magic from blood.”

Finding nameless corpses in the middle of the capital seemed a lot harder than trying this first.

* * *

Clatter.

The carriage shook, and I woke from a light doze. I blinked in surprise and looked around.

“We haven’t arrived yet, so you can rest a little longer.”

The man seated across from me laughed heartily. His brown eyes curved into gentle crescents. Ah, right. I quickly took in the situation.

“Sorry. I didn’t sleep much last night…”

“Oh dear. Sounds like you had a restless dream.”

“Yeah.”

“Well, considering what you heard yesterday, that’s understandable.”

Werner gave me a sympathetic pat on the shoulder. Crown Prince Tristan, sitting beside him, glanced my way briefly before turning his gaze out the window.

Of course, the real reason I hadn’t slept wasn’t because I’d heard rumors about necromancers—but because I’d been up all night training in necromancy.

‘That damn Rev… he guzzled down so much magic like a maniac.’

Last night, I had finally succeeded in extracting purified magic. Well—more like I kept at it until I succeeded.

After more than twenty attempts, I was too drained to even lift a finger. But Rev wasn’t satisfied. He kept urging me to draw more.

“Total demon…”

“I can understand why you’d be shaken—those necromancers, traitors to mankind, are horrifying indeed.”

Werner immediately responded to my muttering, nodding earnestly. I was caught off guard and quickly bobbed my head in agreement.

“We’ve arrived.”

As soon as Tristan spoke, the carriage came to a halt.

“Shall we?”

Werner naturally stepped forward to escort me. I took his hand and stepped out of the carriage—and was greeted by a scene I knew all too well.

Snapped trees, shattered carriage parts scattered nearby. Even the earth, now stained dark with dried blood.

‘Did we really leave it this messy…?’

We had tried to clean up. But with everyone being zombies, we hadn’t exactly been in any condition to move properly, much less clean efficiently.

All we’d really done was erase our family’s traces. We’d removed the crest, stripped away the ornate decorations. The carriage didn’t look noble anymore—just like something a wealthy merchant might use.

Beep, beep, beep!

Suddenly, a loud beeping came from Werner’s direction. He pulled a device from his pocket.

“See? It’s flashing red.”

“I can see that.”

So… the device did work. Using necromancy carelessly around it would definitely get me caught.

“There was clearly a carriage accident here. Was nothing reported to the local guards?”

“Not a word.”

The answer came from Tristan.

“If the crash was this severe, people must have been injured—but no patients with serious injuries showed up at any nearby clinics.”

“How suspicious.”

“There’s blood here, so it’s clear someone was in the vehicle. But there are no injured, no bodies… and traces of necromancy remain.”

Tristan’s brow creased faintly.

“I fear an innocent citizen of the Empire may have been abducted as material for a necromancer.”

…Not entirely wrong. They were used for necromancy, after all.

“That is, if there really was necromancy involved,” Werner added quickly.

“Do you see anything?” Tristan asked, leaning against a tree.

He didn’t know—it was that tree. The one that had pierced Yullia’s heart.

Dark stains still marked the spot where her blood had soaked into the bark.

“…Hard to say.”

I forced myself to keep a neutral expression, letting my voice trail off vaguely.

My lips felt dry.

If I said I saw something, it would confirm that necromancers were real. But if I said I didn’t, the Holy See would immediately accuse the Crown of being duped or dishonored.

‘What am I supposed to say?!’

I wanted to tear my hair out.

“Traces of necromancy…”

As I trailed off, both pairs of eyes focused squarely on me. Under Tristan’s intense stare, I felt like I was about to be swallowed whole.

“……”

Even as I scrambled to think of something to say, the two men waited with frustrating patience.

“…Could I… maybe say it in sixty seconds?”

“It would be wise not to test my patience further.”

“Right, of course.”

I smiled awkwardly. Yeah, better to just get it over with. I opened my mouth to speak—only to be cut off.

“Werner.”

“Yes.”

“You felt it too, didn’t you?”

Tristan’s gaze slid past the side of my face. He was looking at something behind me.

Blinking in confusion, I turned my head slightly—just as Werner stepped forward, striding out as if he already understood.

“Uninvited guests,” he muttered.

I instinctively stepped back, trying to gauge the mood, but Tristan suddenly grabbed my wrist.

“Stay close.”

“Wha— Ah, yes. Of course.”

Tristan drew the sword from his hip with a smooth, practiced motion. I didn’t know much about swordsmanship, but I had heard he was one of the best.

“I’ll handle it. Please return to the carriage.”

“There are five of them. Will you be alright on your own?”

Werner nodded confidently. At that, Tristan calmly sheathed his sword and stepped back into the carriage.

I followed awkwardly behind him, not sure what else to do.

The moment we sat down, a heavy silence settled between us. Outside, the sound of clashing weapons erupted.

Clang! Clatter! Slam… Rumble…

Chaos unfolded just beyond the carriage walls—but inside, it was dead quiet.

‘He’s gonna destroy the whole scene fighting like that… Well, I guess it’s fine. All we need are the necromantic traces, anyway.’

If the site got wrecked again, at least no one would be able to recognize it as our carriage.

“You don’t need to worry.”

I must’ve looked tense—Tristan spoke in a low, composed voice, his eyes still on the window.

“I don’t know where the information leaked from, but this isn’t exactly unusual.”

“……”

“Sir Werner is a skilled knight. He won’t lose to five mere assassins.”

The way he said it… like he’d been through this exact scenario dozens of times.

“…Does this happen to you a lot?”

“There are those who’d rather die than see the son of a heretic crowned emperor.”

He said it like it meant nothing—but his words were anything but light.

Tristan Bellond.

The sole heir to this vast empire, which controlled a fourth of the continent. The only son of the current emperor.

With no other siblings, he’d become crown prince without dispute. But of course, nothing in life is ever that simple.

“My mother converted when she came here, for what it’s worth.”

The real issue was that the empress was from the Kingdom of Tahil, which had a different state religion than the empire.

It was little more than an excuse. According to Tristan, the empress had faithfully converted to Helios and lived piously all her life.

“Looks like it’s over.”

Tristan stood.

He looked a little tired. One of the rare moments when the always-perfect prince showed a hint of humanity.

“Let’s go.”

The moment I stepped outside, the scent of blood hit me like a wave. Just moments ago, all I could smell was fresh greenery.

As I turned to look behind me, someone’s hand covered my eyes.

“Young Lady. Not something you want to see.”

Werner’s voice came from close by. I nodded wordlessly. He warned me not to look back and walked toward Tristan.

“Any survivors?”

“They all took their own lives. Capture wasn’t possible.”

“Wouldn’t have mattered anyway. Forget it.”

While they discussed it as casually as reviewing the weather, I simply stared down at the ground.

Drip.

A thin stream of blood trickled toward my feet, staining the heels of my shoes. I quietly stepped aside, only for the blood to follow, inching forward like it was waiting for space.

The scene made it easy to imagine just what kind of massacre had unfolded here.

“What should we do with the bodies?”

“Bury them. No good will come from a scandal.”

“There are five of them.”

“Is that a problem?”

“…No, sir.”

Werner turned back toward the carriage, saying he’d brought a shovel with him. I was still standing motionless near the front wheel.

“If you’re feeling unwell, you’re welcome to wait inside,” Werner said as he wiped blood off his cheek.

He must’ve thought I was frozen from shock.

Well… I was shocked.

‘What a waste!’

…Was what I’d just thought. And that’s what shocked me the most.