Chapter 13 - Necromancer

The Silhouette wandering over the rocky slope was barely recognizable as a man. Drooling, glassy-eyed, he muttered to himself.

He walked stiff-legged like a sleepwalker, and his joints moved like a puppet.

His mind was blank. He did not see anything of the landscape that surrounded him, he did not hear the wind, he did not feel the cold or the rain. He knew nothing of the people below the mountain who saw him from a distance.

They locked their doors and scared their children with ghost stories in the gloomy mountains.

He occasionally he remembered something. Not completely, just loose bits of the past. Sometimes he saw the beautiful smooth bones of those who had followed him, the eye sockets turned toward him with obedience and love.

Sometimes he remembered how they chased him, how his eyes widened and his stiff legs tried to walk trying to escape from a dungeon.

Most of the time, he knew that he had been betrayed, that everyone was in control of him.

He knew that he was being controlled; somehow the freedom of his body had been stolen, and from inside him, he burned with the desire to get it back.

If he alone could remember how and why it had happened, perhaps he would be lucky to find a method.

The night was cold and clear as he walked in the high places we stopped.

He didn't know where he was going, but his feet led him and he followed.

He thought it was possible that he was being hunted, but he wasn't sure.

He alone knew that he had to move.

Without knowing why, he tripped and hit his head.

The pain cleared a bit of his cloudy vision and he discovered that he was lying at the foot of a small burial mound.

In the depths of his mind something about him told her that something was hidden in that place, an event forgotten in time, a secret that many swore to keep.

He tried to remember what it was all about, but he couldn't.

Away from the wasteland, a wolf howled.

Gripped by sudden panic, the ragged figure crouched at the foot of the burial mound, leaning back until his hand found… nothing.

The great stone door that closed the burial mound had snapped and a fragment had fallen off, leaving enough room to slide inside.

She needed to hide and his battered mind told her that places like this were perfect for him.

Inside him she hid in the dark, hugging her knees and rocking back and forth, back and forth.

He found this move comforting.

-"Necromancer"

His tangled, bleeding head snapped around, his eyes staring uselessly into the dark.

Had he imagined the whispering voice?

-"Necromancer walk"

The words were familiar to him, but their meaning eluded him.

He began to crawl further into the darkness, feeling the path the voice wanted him to follow.

As he crawled, a strange feeling invaded his battered body.

He felt as if he were near a fire that caused damage without heat.

Again, he felt that he must remember something, but he didn't know what.

-"Lord of the Necromancers"

Her back arched violently as a thousand stars exploded in her broken mind.

The scattered debris fell inward, glowing, incandescent.

"I am a Necromancer. I am… the Lord of Necromancers."

His mouth was not used to uttering sounds and the words came out hesitantly.

But she had begun to remember.

-"Well. Very good, Necromancer, your allies betrayed you, tried to destroy you, I know you, I know who you are"

He flailed weakly on the ground, and a low moan escaped his lips.

He suddenly remembered everything; being part of the Mortuary cult, the raid on Miyukai, his flight from the Republic in an attempt to reach Transilvania, the cardinal's betrayal, the black squad attack and then ... the flashing light that erased everything from his mind and made him lose control of your body.

-"Do you want to regain your power? Necromancer. I can offer you the opportunity to regain your power"

The ragged figure managed to kneel, his gaze clearer now, and his voice firmer.

"Who or what ... are you?"

-"I am the means to regain your powers. You want to be strong, right?"

The necromancer nodded and focused his gaze with difficulty.

His next words seemed like tears coming from his throat.

"YES!"

- "then I'll tell you what to do"

♦ ♦ ♦

At the top of the burial mound, the wind shook his hair and the rags of his clothes.

Although the voice from before was no longer with him, she could feel how she had control of his body.

She closed her eyes and tried to remember how to do what had given her his title.

Around him, the air surged with power as it channeled his mana.

He raised one of his hands, pronounced [Desecrate], and just at that moment a dark purple magic circle appeared, indicating the activation of the [Desecrate] spell.

A cold death wind blew and a dark aura surrounded the Necromancer.

His first spell in a while was activated, it was time to perform another.

With the same previous procedure, he channeled his mana, raised his hand and pronounced [Reanimate the Dead].

From deep within the burial mound, came a grating sound and shuffling feet; skeletons emerged from the ground, not one or two, but dozens of them armed and armed with ancient weapons.

Dust fell from his bones as he rose, awaiting orders from his new master.

In a few minutes, a regiment of soldiers, undead bows and had formed before the Necromancer. The screeching sound grew louder and rose above the wind.

The mound itself trembled slightly. The mountain rock cracked, inside the burial mound he had found something valuable, something ancient.

It wasn't a powerful weapon or tough armor, it was something far more valuable to a Necromancer.

He had found the corpse of an ancient hero, a body buried and forgotten a few decades ago.

A figure emerged from within the mound, clad in metallic-colored plate armor.

When he got up as an undead, he had not done it alone, next to him a group of ancient and robust knights rose, they seemed the elite unit of some country.

They were well equipped with heavy armor, and possessed magic shields and weapons; their leader possessed a powerful magic sword, possibly the national treasure of some country.

They climbed to the top of the burial mound and knelt before the Necromancer, removing their helmets to reveal a gaunt skull. Then he took out of the scabbard that carried on one side a long sword in perfect condition that shone unnaturally.

After all the tumular knights had come out and knelt, the tumulary hero pronounced.

"My Lord."