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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 10
Chapter Title: Fragment of the Immortal King (3)
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I finished my revenge and began the cleanup.
First, I summoned my undead subordinates and assessed the damage.
The undead who had fought alongside Malcolm were nearly wiped out, and those who clashed with the black mages resisting in the village had taken heavy losses in the fierce battle.
[...There were about five hundred of them, right? And this is all that's left?]
Of the vast horde of undead, fewer than thirty remained.
We had faced barely more than forty enemies, yet the damage was immense.
If it had only been zombies and skeletons, maybe it wouldn't have been so bad, but there were mid-to-high-tier undead among them too.
If Malcolm hadn't used the black mages as scapegoats, the undead sent to the village would have been annihilated.
'Well, in that case, I could've dealt with Malcolm faster and come to their aid sooner.'
After roughly gauging the losses, I examined Malcolm's corpse.
If the forces were depleted, I could just replenish them.
As long as they weren't completely destroyed beyond resurrection, I could recover some numbers.
Above all, turning the corpses of fallen enemies into new troops mid-battle—that was the true thrill of being a necromancer.
'Hmm... not sure if it'll work out well.'
I had seen Malcolm summon undead a few times, but it was nothing more than mass-producing low-tier ones.
Well, all the high-tier undead he'd gathered were stolen by me, so he had no choice.
In the end, I'd never learned how to make undead from corpses.
If I botched it and ruined the bodies, I'd be crying tears of blood.
Corpses of this quality wouldn't be easy to come by again.
As I inspected it, I noticed something odd.
Malcolm's body had no soul.
This was my first time examining a corpse like this since becoming a Demi-Lich, so I wondered if this was normal and probed deeper—then I found the cause.
A red magic circle was etched into Malcolm's heart, and it had forcibly extracted his soul.
'Did he lose his soul to some demon contract? Or maybe his backers installed it as a security measure.'
It would've been nice to extract info from the soul. What a shame.
I'd never tried it before, but tinkering around might've yielded something.
'At least the body looks usable. Silver lining.'
I shifted my gaze from Malcolm and scanned the surroundings, soon spotting what I wanted.
The kindly black mage who had first taught me.
She'd been flung into a corner by the battle's aftermath, her body ragged and torn, but somehow she retained her basic form.
'Her soul's been ripped out too. Still, this should be workable.'
Not only personal tutoring, but hands-on practice too.
With gratitude, I attempted to create an undead.
Drawing on the knowledge from the "Black Magic" skill I'd acquired, my experience observing undead, and the info on undead from resonating with the "Fragment of the Immortal King," I channeled black mana.
'Connect the corpse to black mana, synchronize... corrupt the lingering mana in the body, warp the physical data... scrape together soul fragments... like this?']
Soon, black flames enveloped the corpse, incinerating everything but the bones.
It seemed to be going well at first.
Crack—! Crumble...
Then cracks spiderwebbed across the remaining bones, and they began to shatter into dust.
[Uh... sorry?]
I offered a light apology.
Still, thanks to her, I got a feel for it.
I immediately ordered an undead to fetch Jeraph's corpse from the warehouse, sat before it, and tried again.
Maybe thanks to the ever-helpful "Zephyr Chance," it succeeded this time.
A Skull Mage, or Skeleton Mage, was complete.
Buoyed by success, I still hesitated to use Malcolm's body just yet.
A few more tries would build confidence.
'Plenty of materials around anyway. I can practice plenty and save him for last.'
I had a nearby undead carry Malcolm's body, then stood to survey the village.
Wobble—
My body tilted for a moment.
Without one arm, balance was tricky.
'Gotta fix this first.'
I sent undead to retrieve my right arm, lost in battle.
They scoured the area and found it quickly, but it was in bad shape.
'The upper arm's completely gone. Useless.'
Couldn't attach an elbow to my shoulder.
If I were a true lich who'd extracted and stored my origin for immortality, I'd regenerate from bone dust, but that was beyond me.
As I pondered, my gaze fell on the Death Knight wreckage—smashed just before the fight with Malcolm.
It was utterly destroyed, beyond salvage.
But the right arm was intact, and the build matched mine.
'This'll do as a replacement!'
I snatched the Death Knight's right arm, pressed the stump to my shoulder, and connected it with black mana like syncing fragments.
Black flames erupted, burning away the mummy-like flesh, leaving only bone.
Then "Super Recovery" activated, fusing it to my body.
[Hmm... feels a bit off?]
I swung the new arm around, then fine-tuned its size with bone-manipulating black magic for balance.
[Perfect now! Seamless!]
The bone color differed slightly, but I was thrilled.
High-quality bone made channeling black mana feel just like my old arm.
[Time to collect the spoils?]
The village was mine alone, with countless goodies left.
I gazed at it all with satisfaction.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
Regrettably, most undead lost to Malcolm were beyond revival.
I resurrected what I could and toured the ruined village.
Undead lay shattered everywhere, mingled with a few servant corpses.
These must've been caught before joining their bosses after the raid.
I recovered salvageable undead and turned servants into new ones.
[Skeleton Warrior this time, huh.]
Leading the fresh undead, I looted nearby buildings for valuables while moving on.
Every new corpse became an undead, but there weren't as many as expected.
Only at the village center did I understand why.
[They all gathered here.]
A massive clash had happened here.
Hundreds of undead remains littered the area, alongside a pile of slaughtered black mages.
Too focused on Malcolm, I hadn't tracked the details, but they'd banded together, fighting back-to-back in the alleys.
The black mages all wore robes and staves.
Servants gripped weapons too—they'd armed up right after the attack.
[Huh... but the undead numbers seem off. Why so many?]
There were also undead positioned defensively around the center.
[Ah, these must be the black mages' own summons.]
Closer inspection showed few high-tiers, but their numbers had helped hold the line.
Further probing revealed some exceptionally strong servants.
Especially the middle-aged man guarding the village entrance—he'd inflicted the most damage.
[I sensed he was formidable during the scan, but not this much.]
Most attacking high-tier undead fell to him.
As a warrior, not a mage, his black mana reserves and combat prowess outshone theirs.
[Can't let sheer mana volume fool me again... gotta be careful.]
Fortunately, he held out well until Malcolm massacred the mages—then he fell soon after.
[But now, he's mine.]
I started with the weaker ones, turning them into undead.
Black mages became Skeleton Mages, servants Elite Skeletons or Skeleton Warriors.
A few standouts became Skeleton Knights.
In the process, I realized the lowest tier here was Elite Skeleton.
I'd been the weakest in the village.
'Fine by me—I'm strongest now. Time to work these guys to the bone.'
No special reason for all skeletons; the fragment's data favored them—Malcolm's preference, maybe, but skulls were the most efficient sacrifices.
Plus, as a skeleton myself, that lineage felt natural.
'Lacks variety, but can't be helped.'
For the gatekeeper, though, I went all out—Skeleton Knight felt too plain.
Malcolm planned stronger ones anyway, so I poured my experience into crafting the best undead yet.
[Grrrk...]
A gurgling rose from the fallen body; its sunken, dangling head snapped off.
The body rose smoothly, picked up the head, and tucked it under its arm.
[Oh, success!]
A headless knight, Dullahan, was born.
With most high-tiers gone, this was my top fighter.
I had others, but they were damaged.
Of course, that'd change soon.
Now for the main event: Malcolm.
But first, some deliberation.
Few mage-suited undead in my data.
Malcolm deserved better than Skeleton Mage.
Ghosts needed souls; liches too.
'No, true liches form from mages corrupting willingly into undeath. No data on that anyway.'
Malcolm wasn't wrong calling me half-baked.
As I pondered options, my right arm caught my eye.
A proper Death Knight was top-tier undead—self-aware, combat power rivaling liches.
Mine had been drained by the fragment, losing ego.
'Can't make mage Malcolm a Death Knight, but I could mimic it...'
The fragment held Death Knight data; I'd studied it post-evolution; my arm was one.
[Alright, let's try.]
I sat, placed my right hand on Malcolm's corpse, and focused.
"Wicked Wisdom" whispered methods from my knowledge; the heart's fragment lent power.
Black flames roared over Malcolm's body.
Unlike before, it didn't strip to bone— just withered like a mummy, moisture gone.
Success.
I hastily gathered his fragmented lingering thoughts, implanting an ego.
No info value, but enough for self-judgment.
Malcolm floated up smoothly and stood.
His glowing blue eyes met mine; he bowed.
[Orders.]
'Whoa... he talks!'
First talking undead besides me—moment of awe.
'Has ego, speaks... needs a name.'
I thought briefly, then realized it was obvious.
[Your name's Malcolm. Nice to work with. Obey well from now on, got it?]
No point renaming—would confuse, and it was probably fake like Zephyr's.
Nod.
Fresh ego meant curt replies now, but he'd improve.
Thwack!
Or else.
[Answer me, punk.]
[...Yes.]
Thus, I achieved full revenge. Malcolm, my killer, became a Death Wizard under my command.