“Hey, Isa. Do you think your village still needs those two zombies?”

“Hmm? What, those? They were still animated?” she asked, startled.

“I’ll take that as a no,” Levi replied.

He looked at his status menu again, considering his options.

Levi | 18 | Lv 30

Class: Necromancer [SPECIAL]

Str: 37

Mag: 66

Dex: 34

Spd: 36

Def: 15

Res: 61

[Swordsmanship]

[Shadow Manipulation]

[Shadow Step]

[Raise Dead]

[Drain]

[Shape Dead]

[Heal Undead]

[Call Ghosts]

[Death Resist]

“Oh, nice. The power to resist death, just what I needed,” Levi muttered. He checked it to be sure, but as expected, it was a skill that provided a small percentage resistance against death magic and death effects. He couldn’t imagine it was the most useful resistance in the world—fire resistance would do wonders, for example—but in the Death Cult, it would probably come in handy.

“Hey, show me my active undead, will ya?” he requested.

Active Undead

[Colin] [Unique] [Ensouled]

[Armalgam]

[Spinal Cord] Mk. 2

[Slombie]

[Unnamed Dead 1]

[Unnamed Dead 2]

He pinched his chin, looking over the list. The last two were probably the undead he’d left at the village. He snapped his fingers, releasing them. They dropped off his list.

Miles away, two dessicated corpses suddenly went still, then toppled over. The townsfolk gathered round, quickly whispering prayers to the re-dead. One turned his head to the sky. “Thank you, noble Overbringer!”

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Completely unaware of the praise offered him, Levi twisted his lips and consulted the System again. “What’s my max number of undead?”

Max Undead: 10

“Nice, nice.” With the removal of the two unnamed dead, that put him back at four active undead, with six available slots. He looked around the room. The three of them had unblocked the entrance Sean had come to earlier, leaving it wide open. Skeletons clustered around it, all tangled up in a bundle. Levi snapped his fingers, and five of them came to life, green light glittering in their eyes. They shifted, starting to rise. Before they could, Levi put his hand out flat. “Not yet. Let’s give our good friends a surprise, hmm?”

The skeletons rattled, then laid back down. Once more, their eye sockets went dark.

“And that leaves one slot open, in case I need an emergency undead,” Levi commented to himself. He lifted his head, looking at Isa and Colin. “Everyone ready? Colin?”

Colin gave him a thumbs-up from the passage in the ceiling. Using the Spinal Cord, he’d retreated back into the passage, where melee fighters would have difficulty fighting him, and he could easily retreat out of the range of archers and mages.

“Isa?”

Isa crossed her arms. She stood beside him in her adult form, and what a form it was. Her eyes glittered. Her hair shone. Her skin took on a baby’s softness. Every inch of her was full of life and power, and ready to fight. She chuckled, deep in her throat. “On the off-chance you need my help, I’m willing and able.”

“Slombie?”

The creature turned numbly toward him. Brown slime coursed over its bones, dripping from its fingertips. It had no face, nor ability to make an expression, but he got the impression that it was hungry.

“Excellent.” Levi clapped, pleased with himself. “Then there’s just one last thing to do…”

--

Sean pointed. “Here they are.” Looking ahead, he paused. The entryway had been cleared of rocks, as if to welcome them. For the first time, a scrap of doubt crept into his mind. If the enemy welcomed them, was it the right decision to charge in?

One glance over his shoulders settled his heart. The Death Cult’s elites and the powerful-looking outsider were all on his side. What did he have to fear? He just had to point them at the enemy and wait in the back for everything to resolve itself.

And then he saw what awaited them, and his heart quavered again.

A mound of bones piled high in the center of the room. Skulls, ribcages, femurs, all of them bleached white as though they’d been left in the desert for months. He knew they’d only died the day before, but he could hardly believe it. Those dead, sterile bones couldn’t be the product of one night.

But that wasn’t what drew his eye. It was the man crouched atop the bones that demanded his gaze. A loose red cloak hugging his shoulders, far too many swords at his hips, he lounged atop the mound as if it were the most natural thing to do. And in the place of a face, he wore a skull.

No—gripped it between his palms. Yet, for a moment, Sean had truly, from the bottom of his heart, seen a dead man before him. A chill crawled down his spine. The sensation of standing in the presence of not an outsider, but something utterly, completely alien, something that commanded power beyond his understanding, something that had watched over unseen aeons in silence, bearing it all—came over him. This man told a joke, but it was one only he understood. No one else in the world could laugh along, a joke he told all to himself. The final joke, the kind of joke that he didn’t need you to get in order for it to be funny.

Undeniably, unavoidably, Sean stepped back. He was in the presence of the inevitable. The motionless, yet unstoppable. The certain.

Death.

Sean sucked a breath. His chest quavered, his heart raced. In that moment, there was no doubt in his mind. His legs trembled, wanting to bend at the knee. Words sprung to his lips unbidden.

My Champion.

The man lowered his hands, drawing the skull to the side to expose a sly smile. “Well, well, well. Look who it is! If it isn’t my old shoulder-bumping buddy, Generic Cultist B.”

The spell broke. Sean jolted back to reality. His face twisted in disgust. Even for a moment, even for a heartbeat, it was inexcusable. Seeing this outsider as the Champion? Impossible!

He threw out his hand. “That’s the one who killed our comrades. Kill him!”

The Death Cultists ran forth, shouting in rage as they drew their weapons.

Levi clicked his tongue. He stood and extended his hand, snapping his fingers. “Rise!”

As one, an army of skeletons rose from the floor to greet them. The cultists slammed into them, and they flew back, but instantly reformed. Drawing weapons of their own from the ground, they charged the cultists.