Keir sat back watching the dead work under direction of living officers, preparing for the coming battle. Most of the living were checking their weapons or resting before the demons arrived. One of the priests was holding a quick service for anyone needing religious support.

Lieutenant Floria was cleaning one of her pistols, her hands going through the motion with an ease that spoke of long practice. Her eyes were scanning the edge of the dead forest, where trees were being pushed down to create a mess of broken sticks and sloppily piled logs that would break ankles and spear the clumsy.

“Are you going to go berserk again, Regua?” the Lleial woman asked.

“Only if I'm about to die,” Keir replied.

“With respect, the stories never spoke of your wild side.”

Keir smiled thinly. “That's because I never absorbed a soul before. I knew it could be done, but I never personally did it until the last battle.”

“But the stories say you would weave spells that stole peoples souls, causing them to instantly die by the hundreds as you gained their strength.”

“I improved a necromantic spell to steal a persons life, not their soul. It was relatively painless, quick, and it took a while before they knew how to defend against it. It also helped replenish my magic somewhat, but it still cost more energy than I regained.”

“So the soul is stronger?”

He nodded. “Much stronger. It's overwhelmingly more powerful. I made some mice absorb the souls of other mice. The first one attacked a rat five times it's size, and killed it. The second one attacked me, it almost bit through my leather gloves. The last two killed each other, they kept fighting until they bled out, ignoring their missing limbs and wounds that should have killed them. You can see why I didn't use it until I was desperate.”

“That... was risky.”

“It was. But if it's a choice between surviving or dying, I'll choose life every time.”

She looked at him, genuinely confused. “Why? You can just come back to life. I heard that you told the general you'd slit your throat unless he went with your plan.”

“I see rumours are still the best way to get information in the army. I'm glad some things haven't changed.” he said with a smile. “That was a bluff. My Heart was only usable once, now it's just a very expensive piece of metals and crystals. I'm as mortal as anyone unless I make another one, and I don't have the time or resources to do that.”

He didn't add that he doubted he'd be allowed to make another one. They couldn't let him get too powerful after all.

His bodyguard suddenly got a worried expression, and muttered, “I wish I had a larger squad.” In a louder voice she asked, “How long until the demons get here?”

“About an hour. The flyers are mostly dealt with, and the main group of demons are split up. Half of them are fleeing a forest fire and the other half very cautiously making their way here. We'll still have a few thousand demons attacking on three sides.”

“You've seen the demons fight now, are you worried?”

“No. We have three thousand of my strongest dead and a thousand powerful ghosts I was able to take my time creating. Add to that the two thousand regular dead I raised and haven't used yet on the way here, and it's a formidable force. And then we have the traps. The demons have no idea what my dead are truly capable of, and they're going to bleed because of it.”

A group of Lleial scouts reached the barricades, their horses were breathing hard, and some of the riders were injured, but they looked happy. Dismounting the leader went to the officers tent to report, while the rest cared for their steeds. Keir saw Floria looking wistfully at the riders.

“You wish you were still a scout?”

“No, Regua. Being your bodyguard is a greater honour than I could ever hope for,” she said.

“I've found that the things that bring you honour, typically take you away from what you really want to do.”

She looked at him curiously.

Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

“Don't let this body fool you,” Keir said, waving his hand along his youthful, feminine shape. “I'm over sixty years old, and have been a scholar barely avoiding starvation to the emperor of the continent. I never want to go back to the first, but as I gained power I found less and less time to study magic like I truly wanted to.”

“If I may ask, Regua, why did you conquer the continent? The stories only tell how you did it, not why.”

He leaned back, scratching his scalp which was bristly with new hair. In the moment he decided to tell her the truth, it couldn't hurt. “I started it because the idiot King Hart the Third decided to renege on his fathers deal allowing my necromantic college to study in his country. Rather then giving us time to find a new home and take our work with us, he gave us a week. Then when we couldn't leave in time, he sent his army to force us out and loot the college for everything he could sell.”

He paused, remembering the threats, the hundreds of soldiers ready to kill him, his colleagues and his students, and the ego of the incompetent king. “I raised an army of the dead and killed them all. Some of my students were sons and daughters of the nobility. Their parents, already unhappy with the king, rose in revolt, using the attack on their children as an excuse. My allies and I had control of the kingdom within three weeks.”

“That was when you became the king of Heichland?”

“No. I wasn't popular enough, even though my dead helped win the war, and I didn't want it. I was given the position of royal mage and the Necromantic College was made a royal establishment, ensuring we would always have a home. Power and time to study, it was all I could dream of.”

He sighed, the memories made him realize how long ago all of that was. “Our neighbours weren't so happy about the changes, especially when they learned the former, foreign queen was killed in the fighting. Her large family cried about how evil necromancy had taken over the kingdom. That led to the First War of the Dead. When the new king was killed in battle from treachery, I dealt with the traitors, and my dead were the only reason we found victory. There was no named heir, so I was made king.

“From there the war kept expanding. By the time my enemies were willing to declare peace, realizing they couldn't win, I could only see victory and gaining more power. I'd conquered or cowed half the continent, why not all of it? I was an old man by the time I realized what I'd given up.”

They sat in silence for several minutes, listening to the column preparing the last of the defences.

“What will you do after we kill the last of the demons?” Floria asked.

“Set up a kingdom somewhere in the continent, and rule it as best I can. The land will need a firm hand to rebuild, and I've had time to think over what I did in the past, I'll do better now. I won't resort to war as my first option. What about you?”

“I'll guard you, Regua,” she said without a moments hesitation. “I always wanted to be a warrior, being a scout was the closest I could come to that until the demons came. Now that I have that honour, I'm not going to give it up.”

He looked at her curiously. “I'm surprised the Lleial let women be scouts.”

“Women are light, our horses can travel quickly and farther. Still not many women succeed at it, the training is hard, the test to become a scout is even harder. I had been in the first year of training when the demons reached us.”

Keir nodded in understanding. Desperation usually made traditions and rules fall by the wayside, at least by those who wanted to survive. “I'll admit I'm not used to having a woman guarding me. But if we both survive to the end of the war, you can have the honour of leading my bodyguards.”

The Lieutenant swelled with pride. “Thank you, Regua. I won't disappoint you.”

“I'm sure you won't, Lieutenant Floria.” He smiled warmly at her. She was a good soldier, and a true believer in his importance, she'd already give her life to save his. Now she would work even harder, driven by honour and the need to succeed, perfect for someone who had to guard his life.

“Come along,” he said, getting to his feet. “It's time to start the ritual.”

***

Near the Column

The demon watched the humans preparing for battle. Its black, almost ethereal body was virtually invisible in the dark woods. A ghost wandered within arms reach of it, yet the spirit passed by, not noticing the slightly darkened patch of shadow stretched along the tree trunk.

It felt tendrils of magic pass through the dead ground, entering the trees and bushes around it. Curious it studied the new phenomena, tracing out the lines of glowing darkness. Slowly and carefully, moving at a snails pace, it edged closer to the camp, following the tendrils, trying to find their source.

At the very edge of the forest, it hid in the thickest of bushes, barely brushing the dead branches and leaves. Closing it's eyes, the demon pushed a part of it's spirit outwards. Invisible and intangible it flew over the barricades, spying on the dead and the living.

Close up the dead were easy to see, the black energy that filled them was a blot on the land. The living were harder, most glowed faintly, barely noticeable. A few, the mages, were lit up like candles. An instinctive hatred filled the demons soul. It had been created to kill the magic users, the need to tear them apart was almost overwhelming.

Forcing the feelings down, it continued following the tendrils of magic. The tendrils were becoming thicker, joining together, it had almost reached the source. It saw a cloth structure set up in the middle of the camp, the tendrils came from there.

Peering through a crack, the demon lurched back. It would have shrieked in pain if it could have.

The figure inside glowed like the sun. It had never seen anything so bright. Now that it had time to adjust it could look at the human without any pain. The small figure was guarded by at least two humans. It could make out those figures simply because they blocked the light.

Backing away, the demon saw three other assassins exploring the camp. It felt satisfaction at seeing its kin. When the mindless demons attacked the camp, they would strike, killing all the mages if they could, but the necromancer had to die at all cost.