This is it, Sage thought, eyes darting around the cavern.

It was part of the network of caves she had settled into; previously a sleeping room, from the half dozen crudely made straw beds in the place. Although she had claimed this place for herself a fortnight ago, this was only her second time in this room. Before she had been content roaming only her reading cavern- where she had also tried her hand at alchemy- and the bandit leader’s room, which had been used for brief rests. Although she did not tire, mental exhaustion was still a thing, she needed to take time away from her books now and then.

Since she frequented those rooms and her stuff had been scattered all around them she could not conduct her ritual there. Which was why she had opted for another cave. The cavern she stood in was not as big as the ones she stayed in; its roof was only so high that someone slightly taller than her would have to duck; the fact did not make it any less perfect for the ritual she wished to conduct.

But before that she had to clear it out.

That was the easy part. Retreating countless steps, consequently backing into another cave, she looked ahead and invoked [Firestorm]. A flurry of black flames swept across the cave, raging for dozens of seconds before dissipating and leaving a desolate burrow with blackened walls.

Now it looked almost ready for what she intended.

Next she stepped into the room and waved her hand over its entirety, initiating [Transmute] in the process. Her gaze descended to the base of the cavern and was treated to the sight of the uneven ground morph to a neatly aligned smooth stone floor. A smile wafted to her lips as she inspected the change. Satisfied with what she had done to the place, she [Teleport]ed to her resting cave.

The moment she appeared her eyes fell on the large armoured figure sprawled across the floor. When she returned to pick him up after dealing with, the hag the bastard- distraught as could be- had struggled against his bonds while cursing her and vowing the church would repay her actions with annihilation. Although it was amusing how his hate filled words had been delivered with intense agony, the words themselves had been a pain to listen to. She had listened for half a minute before the compulsion to [Silence] him overcame her. Then she dumped him in this place and once again restrained him with [Nether Chains]; as much as she disdained him, she was not moronic enough to underestimate him.

Looking at the Guard Captain now it looked like any latent threat he could present had vanished. His eyes were closed and although his breathing was rough, it was uniform. If the bastard’s agonised face was any indication, he had fainted; probably from too much pain.

With a plastered smile she released the chains.

In all honesty, in the current situation [Nether Chains] was a spell she had to be cautious with. Once this spell fully absorbs and snuffs the ensnared’s vitality, that person would rise as a zombie. For someone with a physique as powerful as the bastard, it would normally take hours for the process to end. However, considering the fact that he had been poisoned, that duration had been drastically shortened. A specimen like the bastard turning into a zombie would be nothing short of a tragedy; a total waste. She had not kept him alive just to have him become a mindless drooler, even if it was a Grade 2 zombie.

Telekinetically, she lifted him off the ground and grabbed hold of him before shifting back to the cave she had just cleared out. After that she moved him to the neighbouring cave before turning back to the desolate cavern with a forming frown.

Although she was looking forward to the ritual, this part she wished she could skip over.

“The knife Nyx,” she said with her hand stretched out.

Her feline Familiar emerged from a shadow in the corner of the room, still in the Umbral Felis form looking proud of himself for some reason, and spat the bejewelled dagger into her hand.

Taking a deep breath, she placed the knife at her wrist. She then released it and cast [Pain Nullification] on herself. As its name implied, the 6th Order spell invalidated all pain, which was very useful in certain situations; if it could help with Advancement, she would have declared it her favourite spell.

This was not Advancement though. When she sunk the blade into her wrist and dragged it all the way to the elbow, slicing open crudely mended flesh and nicking bone in the process, there was no pain. Even so, the sight of the open gash with copious amounts of dark blood spilling out was not a thrilling sight.

The blood gushed from her wound but did not immediately splatter as she caught it with [Telekinesis]. With her mind she moved the obsidian fluid strategically around the cave room in various patterns and runes. Minutes later, when she laid down the finishing touches, she was standing in a room with intricate intersecting patterns.

All her blood must have been used up because her entire being now felt like dry wood. The Cryptmaker’s notes had warned against using one’s own blood in the process because of the amount needed. It was much easier to bleed out someone else, or several someone elses. However, as an undead Sage did not have to worry about dying of blood-loss; also, after testing out a miniaturised ritual on a couple of rodents, she had been presented with a result that had not been recorded in the books, one that would probably not be possible if she used blood other than her own as a medium.

Besides, she only needed to cast [Dark Regeneration] to cure her dehydration, which was exactly what she did.

She looked around the room again, satisfied with the intersecting patterns, before going to retrieve the unconscious bastard. Once again using telekinesis, she lifted him up and placed him in the middle of the room surrounded by the various patterns, making sure not to disturb the array work.

Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.

These arrays were one of three requirements needed to raise an intelligent undead. Another was the 8th Order spell [Create Sentient Undead]. Unfortunately, using this spell without an appropriate ritual circle would render it inert.

The ritual circle was the key to the kind of undead one wished to create. There were different patterns to create skeleton mages, death knights, bone knights and various undead abominations. Creating vampires and phantoms in this manner was impossible though. Phantoms were undead that could only be born naturally in the Deadlands- a fact that reinforced Sage’s suspicion that the arsehole in the Abyss had meddled when she was summoned into the Main Plane- and only the creator of vampires had an inkling of the ritual used to make them. Unfortunately, the Blood Sorceress was an elusive existence.

After laying the bastard Guard Captain down she did not immediately cast the spell. Instead she used her [Telekinesis] to try and slap him awake.

The last requirement to create a sentient undead was a previously deceased person, one who had been dead no longer than three days. Learning this detail had not been comforting to her considering what she had stocked up in her familiar’s [Void Space], but that was a problem for another time. She had an idea how to circumvent it… sort of; she just needed more expertise to carry it out.

According to the Mau Ngava- a necromancer notorious all around Rekke as the Deathless King, who was also the Cryptmaker’s idol- three days was the amount of time it took for the soul to detach itself from a deceased body. After this period the only undead that could be made from the corpse where mindless ones. This fact was large accepted not only by necromancers but also their bitter nemeses as well. Beyond the seventy-two-hour mark, it was also impossible to bring back someone via 9th Order [Resurrection].

Of course, the effects of the two spells of opposing natures were vastly different. When the Sheans successfully cast [Resurrection] the target would return with their memories intact, while with [Create Sentient Undead] the subject would lose all memories and would practically become a new person after conversion; almost like the conventional reincarnation she had vehemently rejected. Although the newly born undead retained its motor skills, everything else would have to be relearn everything from scratch.

The last thing Sage wanted to do was to expand effort nurturing a newly risen undead’s character. It was tedious and annoying. Also, a servile bastard captain with no memories would be not cut it. The reason she had gone as far as attacking the Cryptmaker for this knowledge was to create a being with its own consciousness that did more than just take orders.

Besides, she was not okay with being the only one burdened with the knowledge that she bonded someone she did not like. That burden had to be shared… unevenly on his end.

Creating a sentient undead with its former identity was not difficult. The requirements were almost the same, but with one minor detail. The target had to be alive when the ritual is commenced.

The Cryptmaker’s notes had also shed light on the gory scene she had witnessed in Hassun with the dead bodies arranged in a pattern and live villagers in the centre. Back then the Cryptmaker, unable to become a Transcendent due to lacking aptitude, was attempting to be turn himself into a skeleton mage. Though not guaranteed, an undead rebirth was one way to increase aptitude, although the process could backfire and have an opposite effect. The odds of enhancing ones aptitude were greater though, which was why there was always a shit-amount of necromancers attempting it.

The gross volume of corpses and living sacrifices were to saturate the place with enough deathly aura to mimic a natural undead’s spawning. Undead who spawned naturally, like those of the Deadlands, did not require a link to maintain their existence; and since the Cryptmaker would have become an undead formed on Aran he would never have had to worry about being cast out of the Main Plane.

Too bad his plans were ruined when he met Sage.

The bastard Guard Captain’s eyes fluttered open after countless telekinetic slaps. However, they were not looking at her. The bastard completely ignored her, as if she was not there.

“I did what every upstanding Paladin would have done!” he uttered a weak shout. “Our order was created to protect the helpless, not turn a blind eye to the powerful inflicting terrors on the weak. Those of status should not be allowed to circumvent the law; I made certain of it. It was just and everyone here knows it! But I am being punished? Since when was doing the right thing cause for punishment? The Lord Pala-”

Sage filtered his voice out.

The man was delirious, probably reliving a memory she could care less about. Although his mind was not present he was awake, and that was all she needed to initiate her spell. Her mana surged from her hand into the bastard before spreading to the blood circle.

The circle she had drawn was different from any that could be found in the Cryptmaker’s notes, it was an innovation of hers.

Under her scrutiny, those ritual circles in the notes looked too crude and boring. She was not interested in creating a death knight or a bone knight or similar entity. Turning the bastard Guard Captain into a magic type undead would be a complete waste. Instead of following boring trends she had opted to create her own.

As a Darkborne, patterns involving the undead were extremely easy to decode and play around with; which made creating various amalgamations with them easy. She had already tested them on rodents and other critters and found the results satisfactory.

The ritual circle she had drawn resembled that of a death knight but with elements of a dread zombie. Both creatures were ghouls, which was worrying for her as she was did not want a flaking servant; but a few touches with cold enchantment runes and she was able to fix the problem.

More mana kept pouring out of her and feeding the ritual circle, which in turn exerted its influence on the feverish man in the middle. A blackness that could only be called darkness emerged from the circle and smothered the bastard, causing changes to occur.

The first one she witnessed was the Guard Captain’s scorched silver armour darken to ebony and start releasing shadowy wisps. His golden hair underwent a similar change as the darkness melded into it, converting it to jet black. The effect was different for his skin though, which whitened to resemble a sheet of paper. A chilling cold erupted from him as she witnessed his final change; the blackness had bled into his eyes filled them out completely.

Discounting the off-colour scheme, he looked almost the same; if one discounted the fact that he seemed to have lost weight. His face was now bonier than it had been, making him look older.

When the transformation ceased the ritual was done; more than half her mana had been consumed in the process. If not for the fact that she had refilled it with a spirit potion after returning, she would have been in trouble.

With {Index} she checked the newly created undead’s information.

Race: ??? (Undead)

Physique: Grade 2

Mana: A (White)

Title(s): Netherkin