Grandson of the Holy Emperor is a Necromancer

Oscal Baldur.

1

As far as mastery over swordsmanship was concerned, he was acknowledged as the strongest in the Theocratic Empire.

And to eliminate someone as dangerous as him, one hundred and fifty highly-skilled Necromancers had been brought in and well over a thousand slaves were prepared for their use.

An undead army boasting at least two thousand combatants could be summoned by them in total. Additionally, with Nasus and envoy Haima working together with them, they should have stood a fairly good chance at defeating Oscal Baldur.

Indeed, that’s what they originally believed.

Unfortunately for them, the one they should’ve been really worried about was someone else entirely. Someone completely different from Oscal Baldur. Someone even more dangerous than that old man.

-Everyone, step back!

Nasus urgently shouted out as its voice reverberated throughout the temple’s interior.

With the altar at the centre, a massive storm of divinity angrily crashed down.

Its power was more than enough to rock even Nasus’s soul; the Necromancers who got sucked into the stormy winds were ripped apart into bloody chunks before getting purified out of existence.

The Lich’s shouts prompted Haima and the rest of the surviving Necromancers to urgently climb down from the altar. Nasus also quickly backed off before jumping off from the raised platform altogether.

They all then looked up at the altar.

Holy water started gushing down the steps of the tall altar like a sacred waterfall.

The divine aura coming from the clear liquid drove away the stench of death and gradually soaked the temple’s floors, letting out a pleasing aroma in the process.

“C-cover your noses!”

“Prepare the masks!”

However, the complexions of the Necromancers paled instantly as if a powerful toxin was spreading around them. They hurriedly put on some masks and leather boots while quickly backing away from the affected areas.

1

From the shallow but wide puddle, an army of undead began rising up. Skeletons with white bones, zombies filled with hideous wounds, ghosts with the figures of transparent women called banshees, the headless dullahans riding on skeleton horses, bone golems, etc., etc…

All of the undead were wearing armour as they carried various types of weapons.

A colourful array of undead stood up tall, and as the eerie blue light glowed from within their eye sockets, they suddenly began chanting a holy hymn.

“What is this? What are those things?!”

“What… what is going on here?!”

The Necromancers numbering well over a hundred all fell into a pit of chaotic confusion. They hurriedly covered their ears as the ‘Spirit Speech’ reverberated throughout the surroundings.

The hymn permeating with divinity sounded like a siren’s call that heralded the incoming Armageddon to the Necromancers trapped inside the sealed-off interior of the large temple.

Terror and fear took over their rationale.

A bizarre existence was shooting out holy water from the tips of his feet while wearing a just-as-bizarre skull and holding a grimoire.

It was then, yet another transformation took place on the boy with a small physique.

“Since you’ve prepared yourselves thoroughly for a fight against Oscal, I should go all out today, too.”

His appearance began changing.

The summoned skeletons around him suddenly began clinging onto the boy. The undead’s bodies broke down into small pieces before enveloping his figure like clay and swirling around him.

Divinity began hardening the bones and created a clearly definable shape – a white-coloured bone armour. The previously small-statured boy ‘grew’ so much larger due to the bone armour and the mountain goat’s skull.

A set of bone armour reaching well past the height of two metres now stood on the altar.

Meanwhile, twelve arms grew out on the armour’s back as if they were unfolding wings and quickly reached ridiculous lengths.

Special envoy Haima forgot to even breathe as he witnessed this truly bizarre sight. As for his fellow Necromancers, they all hurriedly shook their heads as if they wanted to reject reality itself. While they stared at this ‘being’ standing before their eyes, all of them began recalling one same individual.

The existence that dyed this world in death and terror. The existence that had disappeared from this world a long time ago.

And the name of that existence was…

“…Necromancer King Amon.”

The one standing before them was none other than the very Necromancer King who was wiped out of existence fifty years ago.

He descended back to the plain of the living while permeating not with demonic energy, but divinity instead. No, wait – he was manifesting back into this world. That had to be it!

That’s what all these Necromancers felt.

However, one individual among them was thinking of different things right now. It was the Lich, Nasus.

Its burning eyes were quaking with agitation.

The holy water continued gushing out from the feet of the bone armour. All sorts of holy undead were figuratively jumping out from the pool of the sacred water of life.

That boy… he possessed Amon’s skull as well as its grimoire. Despite the layer of bone armour surrounding him, he still gave off this unmistakable holiness from his whole frame.

More importantly, those twelve wing-like arms spreading out from behind imparted the symbolic imagery of an ‘archangel’.

‘Too dangerous. This boy, he was the most dangerous existence for us all along!’

Nasus grasped its own skull. For a brief moment there, its own belief nearly crumbled down.

The moment the Lich laid its eyes on the boy, it almost ended up acknowledging the greatness of the goddess of life, not the god of death.

The revelation that the goddess of life now had control over the dominion of death sent a bone-chilling shudder down the Lich’s spine.

What if a being such as that boy decided to stick around inside Aslan…?

‘…Aslan will be destroyed!’

And not from external factors, but from internal issues, instead!

Those who previously worshipped the god of death would end up changing their religion. They would start worshipping Gaia, discard all of their demonic energy, and to become Priests, turn themselves into invalids.

The boy before Nasus’s horrified eyes was an existence who dared to imitate an archangel, and at the same time, also someone who’d bring about the destruction of Aslan.

The Lich was the one who had inadvertently dragged in such a being into their land.

-This is all your fault. Remember that.

Although the voice was not physically made, it still clearly rang within the heads of all who heard it.

Nasus wasn’t the one who said it. No, the ‘archangel’ before the Lich engraved it into their minds instead.

-If you simply returned home after enjoying the banquet, then this wouldn’t have happened. Since you are all responsible, be prepared to deal with the consequences.

The boy was enraged.

He who wished for peace and quiet, now desired merciless death to all who dared to drag him into the battlefield.

For the first time ever since Nasus turned into a Lich, it felt fear in its heart.

-Stop him!

The Necromancers all flinched in shock and stared at Nasus.

-We need to stop him. Stop that bastard, now!

Even envoy Haima stared at the Lich in stupor. “What are you saying? That’s no longer an existence that we can deal with. Take a good look, will you?!”

1

He urgently pointed at the surrounding areas of the altar. The army of the holy undead, still emerging from the holy water pool, stood silently. Their numbers were already well past a few thousand.

Logically speaking, their opponent was a creature they couldn’t even compare against.

“Those two are ancient relics. Just one of those relics alone is capable of turning a regular Necromancer into a bona fide monster, yet he has two of them…! Not only that, he can even use them as he pleases. We alone are simply inadequate to…”

-We need to stop him right now, or Aslan will fall by his hands!

This warning from Nasus was enough to shut Haima’s mouth up.

-It will be possible to kill that version of an archangel if the great generals and the greatest Necromancers of Aslan gather in one place. However…!

However, that boy wouldn’t just sit still and wait for such a thing to happen.

Outwardly, he might be the archangel but underneath, he was still a young boy only sixteen years of age.

This also meant that there was more ‘room’ for him to grow in the future as well.

What if the boy concealed his identity and grew up into an even greater monster?

In less than five years’ time, no, make that around three years, that boy would surpass the level attained by Necromancer King Amon.

A being that would deliver an unstoppable calamity to Aslan’s very own existence would be born in the Theocratic Empire.

A being who was even more dangerous and possibly an even greater threat than the current Holy Emperor Kelt Olfolse.

A being that had all the potential to create another, the ‘third’ religion which believed in a different faith.

Such a being was standing right before their eyes.

Envoy Haima spoke in a fearful tone of voice. “It’s impossible with only us alone. I’m already inflicted with a grievous wound. Even if we combine our strength together…”

-The story will change if we sacrifice our lives.

“…!”

-For the glory of Aslan, we shall offer up even our souls. Gather as much demonic energy by spending the lives of the thousands of slaves as collateral. All we need to do is break through that legion and get close enough to the archangel. Our opponent is but a mere Priest. Fighting in close quarters should be almost impossible for him.

Nasus’s burning eyes shifted and locked on envoy Haima.

-I shall break through that legion and open up a path.

“…”

-Prove your loyalty to Aslan, oh Special Envoy Haima! Our king, his majesty Rahamma, shall hear of your noble exploits and bestow eternal glory upon your family for generations to come!