“Would you convey to Duke Tiberian that the gift he sent was quite satisfactory?”
A man lowered his ominous turquoise hood while letting out a chilling voice.
The man with blond hair and green eyes had ears that were too long to be human but too short to be elven—a vague length.
It was a physical trait unique to half-elves.
“The 300 sacrifices Duke Tiberian sent as a gift were of unexpectedly high quality. Thanks to that, the process of resurrecting them as undead soldiers was quite rewarding and meaningful. Please tell him that I, Harvest of the Necronomicon School, made good use of the gift he sent, and that I’ll express my thanks separately later.”
His tone was polite, contrasting with the cold atmosphere, but the blood-soaked mercenary facing the undead-specializing black mage who introduced himself as Harvest couldn’t easily respond, his face drenched in terror.
“Uh, ugh… Aaah…”
Like a helpless living sacrifice that had realized escape was futile in the face of immense horror and given up everything.
He could only tremble without saying a word.
Monster… That’s a real monster…
The young mercenary’s name, frozen in place and unable to take any action before Harvest, was ‘Kellas.’
He was a squad leader-level officer in the Blue Lightning Mercenary Group, sent by Duke Kosak Tiberian to the black mages near the capital Granada.
The mercenary group he belonged to was infamous for doing anything if the money was right—a group of poor-quality mercenaries.
The individual skills of the mercenaries in the Blue Lightning Mercenary Group weren’t particularly outstanding, but their large numbers meant there was steady demand from those wanting to hire many at a low cost.
Duke Kosak Tiberian also valued the Blue Lightning Mercenary Group for its cost-effectiveness and had often hired them for less critical escorts or trade caravans.
This time, they were hired to serve as living sacrifices for the disturbance the black mages would cause near the capital Granada to draw Emperor Cain’s attention.
Naturally, the mercenary group had no idea they’d become living sacrifices.
The request they received was just a standard trade escort, with an additional separate task to perform upon arriving in the capital Granada.
Yet, at the appointed location, what appeared wasn’t a large caravan of over 100 wagons, but two black mages in turquoise robes exuding an alien aura.
As they waved their hands in the air a few times, dozens of comrades vomited blood and collapsed, and when they struggled to rise again, they were no longer living people but showed the eyes of the dead.
Undead.
Among them, ‘ghouls,’ which could be considered an upper tier of zombies.
Ghouls were undead that moved under a black mage’s control despite being dead bodies; they could move far more agilely than lower-tier zombies, handle deadly poisons, and receive buffs like enhancement effects from the powerful magic of black mages or necromancers.
The time it took for over 300 members of the Blue Lightning Mercenary Group to all turn into undead like ghouls or zombies was barely over an hour.
When Kellas, who had passed out shortly after the battle began, regained consciousness late, there wasn’t a single living comrade left around.
“You’ll convey the thanks, right?”
At the repeated coercion from the elf with the eerie gaze, Harvest, Kellas laboriously nodded in place of a reply.
Harvest wore an expression as if he didn’t like Kellas’s attitude, who still seemed unable to distinguish between dream and reality, but he said no more and sent him away.
“Sir Harvest. Your pranks are excessive. Are all immortals like that?”
A colleague from the same black magic school as Harvest, assigned to this mission together—a Grand Chevalier-level black mage, Flamberk—slowly closed the distance with measured steps and lightly chided in a leisurely yet calm voice.
Unlike Harvest, he had an ordinary human male appearance with brown hair and eyes.
“Not everyone who lives long ends up with such a messed-up personality. And Sir Flamberk, this is the sixth time I’m explaining it again, but I’m a half-breed. From the perspective of the purebloodist elves, I’m not classified as an immortal. In reality, half-elves have shorter lifespans compared to pureblood elves.”
Harvest recalled the dark past events that led him to join the black magic school and wore a bitter smile on his lips.
Most of his grim old stories were deeply related to elf purebloodists.
Suddenly, he thought he might want to quietly reminisce about old memories and wander in the swamp of recollections, but it didn’t seem like the situation allowed for that.
“Sir Flamberk, they’re moving faster than expected. Prepare yourself.”
Honorsway.
It was a small village located not far north of Granada, the capital of the Felberg Empire.
Being near the capital, it could be said to have good access to nearby villages or small cities with well-paved national roads, and since it fell under the jurisdiction of the 4th Imperial Legion, the surrounding security was also decent, so quite a few people lived there relative to the village’s size.
It felt awkward to call a village with hundreds of residents a ‘small village,’ but nevertheless, according to the empire’s administrative procedures, a settlement like Honorsway wasn’t classified as a ‘small city,’ so it remained ambiguously called a ‘village.’
In any case, Honorsway was a village that remained in Cain’s memories from his wastrel days; eight years ago, as a royal, he had visited here during an inspection of villages near the capital.
But after eight years, the appearance of Honorsway village, revisited as emperor, was much different from his previous memories.
“You’re late.”
Upon receiving the news that the village had been attacked, Cain left a single-line message via telegram magic to Count Randerk: ‘Urgent matter, going ahead to check.’
He immediately led hundreds of mobilizable imperial troops and rushed over.
With a despondent expression, he let out a deep sigh.
The streets were already filled with bloodstains and gruesome chunks of flesh.
There were no collapsed buildings, but many houses had doors smashed or windows broken.
Anyone could tell it was traces of battle, but amid the streets littered with blood and mangled flesh, there wasn’t a single corpse.
If it was true that they had been attacked by undead, naturally, the villagers’ bodies wouldn’t remain either.
The corpses killed by undead would have joined their ranks.
In Honorsway village, where hundreds of innocent imperial citizens had lived, there would be no living people left.
“Your Majesty. You must hurry back to the imperial palace. It’s not safe here.”
Behind Cain, who wore a complex expression, the commander of the Imperial Guard Knights, Viscount Heinrich Denver, approached closely and advised.
Even Viscount Denver, famous not only for his somewhat wastrel-like behavior but also for his endlessly light demeanor, often exchanging jokes with Emperor Cain, couldn’t easily tear his eyes away from the village’s horrific scene, suppressing his anger.
Though he had briefly lived a wastrel-like life after losing his precious family to nobles of the Five Dukes faction, Viscount Denver’s roots were ultimately as a knight of the Felberg Empire.
He had never violated chivalry despite his light actions, so he couldn’t easily control his emotions upon seeing the place bearing traces of the miserable deaths of innocents.
“Your Majesty. There’s no fault in Viscount Denver’s advice. It would be best to return to the imperial palace first.”
Upon receiving the magical telegram that Cain had led imperial knights to Honorsway village, Viscount Loti Solard of the 4th Imperial Legion, who had hurriedly led knights to support the emperor, also lent weight to Viscount Heinrich Denver’s advice.
I need to judge rationally. Right now, returning to the safe imperial palace is the right move.
Cain didn’t respond immediately, but inwardly, with his reason still intact, he agreed with Viscount Solard and Viscount Denver’s opinions.
The moment he heard the report of undead appearing in Honorsway, not black mages.
Cain instantly recalled the Army Devourer ‘Termio,’ famous as a powerful main villain and boss character in the undisclosed DLC, March of the Dead.
By the time you try to deal with him later according to the DLC storyline, he’s an opponent impossible to defeat.
The reason Cain impulsively led knights out of the imperial palace was precisely this.
In the game worldview of Legend of Imperial Heroes, black mages and necromancers are distinguished by setting.
The boundary is blurry since some in the black magic schools handle undead, but they are separated due to affiliated groups.
However, among them, Termio, who has the genius talent to command an earth-filling number of undead, is included in the ‘necromancer’ camp.
If the setting hadn’t changed significantly, at this point, it was before his calamity-like talent fully bloomed.
With many undisclosed DLCs applied, various variables had occurred, and there might be changes due to this, but if his appearance was confirmed, there was a need to execute him first before his talent bloomed, so he had rushed here to confirm traces with his own eyes.
Fortunately, this seems like just traces of black magic.
Sensing the pervasive aura unique to black magic in the village, Cain could wear an expression of relief amid misfortune.
After awakening the stigmata of Onisia, the Holy Warrior of Annihilation, Cain had gained a black magic detection ability superior to that of the paladin Viscount Aren Valerian.
Thus, he could guess that the master of the undead that attacked the village was not a necromancer but a black mage from a school handling corpses or necromancy.
The Necronomicon School is highly likely.
While the escorting knights fidgeted restlessly, Cain focused on untangling the complex thoughts in his head.
Recalling the developer’s memories, at this point, among the black magic schools capable of meaningful terrorism in the capital Granada, those handling ‘undead’ were almost exclusively the Necronomicon School.
“Your Majesty.”
“I know. I have no intention of dragging this out further, so don’t worry.”
At Viscount Denver’s repeated urging, Cain mounted his horse again.
Identifying that it was the work of a black magic school, not a necromancer, was sufficient achievement.
However, upon returning to the imperial palace, it seemed necessary to immediately summon the Beheading Priest of Ellington and convey what happened in Honorsway.
The Beheading Priest Podric was famous as a cranky madman, but when dealing with heretics, he was known to be a more reliable ally than anyone.