Chapter 34: The Ranpelt Manor (3)

For a moment, Alius doubted his ears. But there was no mistake. He had encountered this voice many times before and knew it all too well. It belonged to Straph, the bishop of Trist.

“Why are you dabbling in necromancy...?” Alius demanded.

He was met with a mocking response. “Why are you so surprised? Isn’t it because you already suspected me that you crept in here so secretly?”

Of course, Alius had harbored suspicions. But he had only thought that Straph might have allied with necromancers, not that he had become one himself. The idea that a servant of the goddess would embrace necromancy was unthinkable.

“Unbelievable! A servant of the goddess stooping to the vile power of darkness?”

“And why shouldn’t I?” Straph laughed. “Tell me, what reason is there not to indulge in such power? Hahaha!”

As his laughter grew louder, the entire space trembled. The oppressive darkness thickened, transforming into a crushing weight that bore down on everyone’s bodies.

“Ugh!”

Serati, sensing the danger, scanned the surroundings. In situations like this, the first priority was securing an escape route.

The exit?

The gate they had destroyed to enter was now blocked by grotesque, pulsating walls of flesh. Without hesitation, she unleashed her aura blade.

“Ha!”

The crimson aura struck the wall of flesh but quickly dissipated. The wall trembled for a moment but remained unscathed.

“Why is this so durable?”

Riltaine wasn’t idle, either. Regaining his composure, he prepared a spell.

“Fire Arrow!”

Flaming arrows streaked toward the wall in rapid succession.

Boom! Kaboom!

But the result was the same. Explosions rang out, yet the wall of flesh remained intact, writhing as if mocking their efforts. Both aura and magic were rendered useless, swallowed by the oppressive darkness before they could reach their full strength.

“I will dispel this death energy!”

Alius raised his oak staff, summoning the divine power within.

“Light of Hatoba, shine forth!”

A brilliant radiance erupted, flooding the space with holy light. It was the sacred brilliance of the goddess, a light that had always burned away all unholy and corrupt forces. Until now, no darkness had ever withstood it.

Until now...

The darkness remained, undiminished. Instead, it seemed to devour the holy light, growing even more potent as it did so. The atmosphere became suffused with the energy of death, and the blood pooling on the floor began to churn in a violent whirlpool.

“My divine power... it’s useless?” Alius muttered, his face pale.

He had never encountered necromancy this powerful before. In truth, he hadn’t even imagined that the powers of darkness could reach such a level.

“Tsk, tsk. Come now, Alius,” Straph’s voice echoed through the oppressive gloom. “Did you truly believe the ones you’ve fought until now were real necromancers?”

There was even a faint hint of pity in the tone—

“No, no, that’s not it.”

—though it was laced heavily with scorn.

“Think for a moment. If necromancy were only as weak as what you’ve faced, why would the churches of the seven goddesses have feared the power of darkness for generations?”

Straph was right.

The so-called servants of the

Shadow of Doom

that plagued the continent were largely amateurs. They barely understood what necromancy was. They simply wielded their power in a crude fashion simply after stumbling upon it.

It was like someone who had picked up a legendary sword by chance. They could swing it wildly, but that didn’t make them swordsmen.

“So, how does it feel to finally face the real thing after dealing with nothing but novices?”

Serati and Riltaine groaned as the invisible pressure mounted.

“Ugh...”

The air grew heavier, their breaths shorter. Even standing upright felt like an immense burden. Alius glanced around, his face ashen as the weight of the situation bore down on him.

Damn it... What do we do now?

***

Even in the hellish landscape, with darkness so dense it felt like it could drill into his skull, Varos remained calm.

Wow, this guy really deserves to call himself a proper necromancer.

While others might feel terror at the horrific scenery and suffocating aura of darkness, Varos was unfazed.

It’s been ages since I’ve seen something like this. Kind of nostalgic, honestly.

This was a sight he had grown sick of seeing back in the day. After all, it was just one of the countless necromantic domains Karnak had casually created to crush his enemies. Granted, this particular domain wasn’t being cast by an ally, but that didn’t bother him.

Why should it? Standing beside him was Karnak, the Monarch of Death, who had mastered the pinnacle of necromancy. What could there possibly be to fear?

Actually, this is a good thing.

If this necromancer was strong enough to create a domain of this caliber, he must have consumed a considerable amount of the

Shadow of Doom.

With any luck, we might be able to head straight home after this!

Buoyed by the thought, Varos glanced to his side. There was Karnak, scanning his surroundings with a tense, grim expression. Varos couldn’t help but admire him.

As expected of the young master—his acting is flawless. Even I’m almost convinced he’s panicking.

Karnak’s veteran performance was truly worth emulating. Matching the mood, Varos put on his own expression of exaggerated shock while discreetly sending a magical whisper.

[Young master, what’s the plan?]

Usually, Karnak would analyze the flow of necrotic energy, pinpoint the domain’s weaknesses, and instruct Varos on exactly where to strike. All Varos had to do was follow directions. Confidently, he waited for Karnak’s instructions...

[Young master?]

But there was no response.

[Young master?]

Karnak continued his act, maintaining his façade of panic.

[Why are you acting like you’ve never seen necromancy before?]

Finally, Karnak responded.

[I haven’t.]

[What?]

[I’ve never seen anything like this before!]

[...Excuse me?]

***

Karnak was sweating bullets.

What on earth is going on here?

The necromantic domain Straph had conjured was undeniably advanced. Even by the standards of his previous world, where necromancers were rare, this would have been comparable to a first-rate necromancer’s work. To Karnak, however, such work was typically laughable—third-rate at best.

As the Monarch of Death, he could usually see through the flow of magic and techniques in an instant, as if holding them in his hands. The problem now was that while he could see it all clearly... That was all he could do.

𝑓𝑟ℯ𝘦𝓌𝘦𝘣𝑛𝑜𝓋𝑒𝓁.𝑐ℴ𝓂

Why is there divine energy mixed into the necromantic flow?

This domain wasn’t formed purely of dark energy.

Within the streams of black magic, trails of divine light intertwined in a bizarre, intricate pattern. The fusion of this divine power transformed what should have been a straightforward necromantic domain into something unrecognizable, a third, unprecedented method that Karnak couldn’t disrupt.

Light and darkness... fused together? How is this even possible?

To put it in simple terms: The light was purifying the darkness. Under normal circumstances, such a phenomenon would cause the necromantic domain to collapse on its own. Necrotic and divine energies were fundamentally incompatible. Yet here they were, coexisting—and doing so seamlessly.

How could something like this even exist?

The concept was so far beyond the realm of logic that Karnak couldn’t even form a hypothesis. And he didn’t have the luxury of sitting down to develop one.

If this is how things are, then I’m useless here!

Until now, Karnak had never struggled against necromancers. Not because his magical power was overwhelmingly superior. After his time-travel-induced regression, he had deliberately honed only his chaos mana, ensuring that he relied on the bare minimum of his abilities. This was to avoid overusing necromancy while still resolving situations efficiently.

But now? This was entirely beyond his comprehension. Karnak’s necrotic power was, in truth, minimal. In terms of pure necromantic strength, even the bumbling necromancers with their exploded heads likely had ten times his power.

And yet, Karnak had easily dealt with necromancers so far because he could clearly see their weaknesses. It was almost like foresight—no matter what they tried, he pre-emptively blocked their necromancy and neutralized them effortlessly. But now, that method wasn’t an option.

[Varos, stay sharp.]

He would have to face this opponent with nothing but his chaos mana and the meager amount of necrotic power he still possessed.

[If things go badly, we might die here.]

For the first time since his regression, Karnak felt a genuine sense of danger. Varos’s expression hardened instantly.

[It’s that serious?]

Varos didn’t know the full details, but he recognized Karnak’s current expression all too well.

[Ah, I knew it. I should have been worried. Things were going without a hitch recently.]

***

“There’s no escape...”

The chilling voice reverberated as the darkened space began to shift. The blood-soaked swamp churned, and dozens of tendrils rose, lashing out through the air.

“Sacrifices, surrender your foolish souls to the darkness!”

Riltaine hurriedly prepared a wind spell.

“Winds, become the blades of decapitation! Wind Blade!”

Serati followed with her aura blade. The wind’s cutting force and crimson aura slashed through the swamp, striking the tendrils.

Slash! Slash!

The writhing tendrils were severed, falling away in chunks. Riltaine muttered in surprise.

“Wait... it worked this time?”

Earlier, neither magic nor aura had any effect, but now their attacks had landed. The group’s expressions brightened for a brief moment—until Karnak’s cold voice broke through.

“Don’t celebrate. That was intentional.”

“What?”

Serati blinked, confused, only to see a strange phenomenon unfolding. The severed tendrils writhed on the ground before morphing into entirely new shapes. Each transformed into a towering, two-meter-tall figure of shadowy darkness, emitting guttural, otherworldly noises.

Gooohhh...

Gooohhhh...

These were chaotic golems, constructs of blood and shadow. The golems roared and charged at the group. Alius raised a divine barrier around them.

“By Hatoba’s grace, shield your servant!”

A golden dome of light surrounded the party, momentarily pushing back the advancing golems. But it didn’t hold for long.

Gooohhh!

With monstrous howls, the chaotic golems pounded on the barrier.

Bang! Bang! Boom!

Each blow sent shockwaves through the dome, distorting its surface. Alius groaned with every strike.

“Ugh! Ngh!”

The attacks weren’t just physical. They carried the essence of darkness, overwhelming the barrier and sending reverberations directly through Alius’s body.

“You’re wasting your efforts, Priest Alius.”

A mocking voice rang out.

“Your light is pitifully weak against true darkness.”

Alius coughed violently, blood splattering as he staggered.

“Ugh... Gah!”

Riltaine, concentrating intensely, shouted, “Hold on just a little longer!”

The barrier was moments away from breaking. He needed to reverse the situation with a powerful spell, and fast. As he finished his incantation, Riltaine raised his wand high above his head.

“Ferocious flames that consume all, Flame Strike!”

It was the most powerful fire spell he could muster. A massive pillar of fire erupted, engulfing the hall and the chaotic golems in a fiery inferno.

Kra-boom!

Or so it seemed. As the flames surged toward them, the chaotic golems opened their mouths wide and spewed dark energy.

Gooohhhh!

The fire didn’t scatter or burn out—it was completely extinguished. The inferno was swallowed whole by the darkness, disappearing entirely.

“Now, now,” the mocking voice drawled, clicking its tongue. “Setting someone else’s house on fire isn’t very polite.”

With that, the golden barrier shattered.

Boom!

The chaotic golems surged forward. One of the massive, shadowy hands wrapped around Alius’s neck.

“Ugh! H-Hatoba...”

He struggled to cast a divine spell, but it was useless. The darkness seeped into his body, suppressing his divine power entirely.

A cheerful voice echoed through the room. “As expected, securing the priest first is the way to go.”

Riltaine wasn’t faring much better.

Damn it! I need to cast my next spell...

Having just unleashed a powerful magic attack, his mana was surging wildly, making it impossible to immediately cast again. If only he had a moment to recover his breath—but the golems weren’t giving him even that.

Thwack!

One of the golems struck him, sending him sprawling to the ground before pinning him underfoot. Trapped beneath its massive weight, Riltaine writhed in pain.

“Ugh... Aaargh!”

Moments later, his body went limp. The darkness had infiltrated his mind, robbing him of consciousness.

“Well then, the high-ranking mage is subdued as well,” Straph remarked, his attention now shifting to Serati.

“Now, all that’s left is the young lady.”

Karnak and Varos were still standing, but Straph paid them no mind. To him, they were insignificant—a mere knight without aura and a mid-tier mage at best. Compared to an aura user or a high-circle mage, they were hardly worthy sacrifices and thus a lower priority. Serati, however, was still fighting.

“Haah... Haah...!”

Even with her companions collapsing one after another, she refused to despair. Her aura blade continued to strike at the chaotic golems.

“Take this!”

But her attacks were useless. No matter how fiercely she slashed, the golems’ dark armor deflected every blow, leaving them unharmed. Finally, she was struck. A massive fist slammed into her shoulder.

Thwack!

She managed to avoid a direct hit, but the impact left her momentarily stunned. In that brief moment, one of the golems’ powerful hands seized her neck.

“Gah...!”

She desperately swung her aura blade at its arm, but it was futile. The chaotic golem remained unscathed, not even a scratch on its dark armor.

“Such a rich soul,” came Straph’s satisfied voice from the void. “You will make a truly splendid offering.”

And then—

Swish!

Out of nowhere, an ordinary steel sword flew through the air, striking the golem’s forearm.

With a loud metallic clang, the thick arm was severed cleanly.

Clang!

The severed arm fell limp, releasing its grip on Serati’s neck. Taking advantage of the moment, Varos leapt forward, catching Serati and pulling her back to safety.

“Are you all right, Miss Serati?”

Serati’s eyes widened in disbelief.

The dark armor that had shrugged off countless strikes from her aura blade had been sliced clean through by nothing more than a simple steel sword.

“How... how is that possible?”