It turned out using the abilities of the phantom cost mana. Sage did not realise it until after a few dozen {Blink}s, when she noticed she was feeling drained and was unable to do so anymore.

Well, it’s only fitting that there is a price to pay, she thought.

As much as she would have loved it if she could {Blink} all over the place as much as she wanted, she knew that she was not an exception to the rules. If she was capable of it, so were others. The last thing she wished for was the existence of a creature that could endlessly use its skills. For example, since this was a fantasy world dragons most likely existed here. If they could continuously breathe fire without rest, wouldn’t the entire world be on fire right now?

Now what do I do? She wondered, looking around. Since she could no longer use her abilities she could only look for other sources of entertainment to pass the time.

However, there was nothing she could use to entertain herself in this clearing. Apart from the weeds that definitely needed a good trimming, the only things there were the stones and twigs that fell down the mountains long ago. Realising this, she could not help but sigh.

This was going to be a long night.

***

For some reason, when Bori woke up the next morning he felt refreshed. Sitting up and looking around, he was relieved to find the skeleton warriors still standing by his bed, ready to protect him from anything that tried to attack him while he was asleep. Though, if that weird undead tried to do so he did not know if these two undead alone could protect him. With this in mind he sighed again.

I wish I had stronger undead.

As a 6th Order necromancer he was definitely capable of creating a skeleton warrior with a Grade 3 physique. The problem with that was that he needed a Grade 3 corpse, which was even harder to come by than a Grade 4 one; five Grade 4 skeleton warriors, which he did not have; or fifty ordinary corpses. The problem with the last option was that obtaining so many corpses, either by slaughtering a village or robbing graves, would attract unwanted attention.

In the past there had been plenty of necromancers who slaughtered entire villages to strengthen themselves. Some of them had even been crazy enough to attack cities with hundreds of thousands of people and managed to create powerful Grade 2 undead. Long story short, they all died less than a week later. That was why Bori did not dare do something so brazen. Better alive and powerless being served by weak undead than a powerful corpse buried with strong minions. That was his philosophy in life.

It was also the reason why he studied ways to summon stronger undead from the Deadlands to strengthen himself instead.

He was not ready to think about the results however.

He got to his feet and had one of the skeleton warriors bring him his robes. After getting dressed he headed down, skeleton warriors in tow.

He found the floor below empty. The undead from last night was not there. He had been quite puzzled the previous night when it- she asked for a place to sleep. Undead literally did not tire so they would not be able to sleep no matter how hard they tried. Even the famed vampires, who were known to sleep for aeons, needed the help of a powerful ritual to fall asleep.

Through their mutual bond Bori could feel the undead. She was still in the tower, somewhere on the floors below.

He continued down to the washroom, where the little skeleton waited stiffly for its next task. He ignored it and descended the next flight of stairs.

Bori found the undead he had summoned the previous night in the kitchen. She was sitting at the dining table with an expression of dissatisfaction, watching the unlit stove while playing with what appeared to be a pheasant that had been stripped of its feathers and gutted. As for the two skeleton cooks; one was missing and the other was massaging the undead- Sage’s shoulders.

When he saw this scene, Bori’s heart skipped a beat.

What is going on here? He questioned non-verbally. Unintelligent undead did not move without the express command of their master. So how was it that one of his skeletons was massaging Sage while the other one was nowhere in sight?

Stolen story; please report.

Having heard him enter, Sage turned to him with a look of disdain. “You’re here. Good. I looked everywhere and couldn’t find anything to light the stove. Can you please help me?”

“Where is the other skeleton?” he counter-asked, feeling himself getting mad.

This creature was the reason his intricately prepared ritual had failed. He was already unhappy about that. Now she was messing around with his undead. He would not tolerate it!

“I asked it to unpluck the feathers from the bird and throw them away in the clearing,” Sage said casually. “It’s been gone for quite a while so it should be back any minute now.”

The statement did not make sense to Bori. So, to make sure he understood what was said he asked for verification.

“You are telling me you told my skeleton to work and it obeyed you?”

“Yes,” Sage replied nonchalantly. Her, eyes were closed, enjoying the massage of the other skeleton, when she posed her own question. “Is there something wrong with that?”

“No!” He responded, a little too quickly. His mind was racing with other thoughts.

This creature could control undead, even those belonging to others. Did that not mean she could order the warrior skeletons to attack him? His heart began to beat rapidly at the prospect. What an unpleasant prospect.

“Can you get to starting the fire?” she asked, impatient. “The bird is not gonna cook itself.”

Knowing that the creature could set his own undead upon him if she so pleased, he chose not to argue. Walking to the stove, he raised his hand and cast a Zero Order spell. [Candle Flame], it had no combat potential but was quite useful for everyday tasks. Immediately after casting it the flames jumped up from the stove.

“It’s done,” he said, turning to look at Sage…

… only to find her staring back at him. The look she gave him was strange, almost as if she were looking at a different person. He could not resist asking why.

“Your mana has increased,” she answered, still looking at him.

“What?” he asked, his heart skipping a beat. Trying to understand what the unusual undead was trying to say.

“Last night your mana capacity was rated C,” Sage explain, giving him a meaningful look. “However, I just checked now and it’s jumped to B.”

For a moment Bori was silent. Then, before he knew it he was rushing up the stairs. Forgetting everything else, he shot past the washroom floor. When he got to the study he hurried to a certain shelf and grabbed particular scroll from it. Quickly flipping it open, he stared at the model of the 1st Order spell on it. Then, after memorising it, he closed his eyes and tried to circulate his mana as depicted on the scroll, his heart palpitating even as he did so. In that moment a gust of wind spewed from his hand and crashed into the shelf, sending it and its contents to the ground.

Seeing this Bori sank into to the armchair while showing no concern for the mess he made. His mind was elsewhere at the moment.

“Impossible,” he muttered, looking at his hands.

From the moment a person was born the amount of mana they possessed was set. This also meant that the number of spells they were capable of learning was set. No exceptions to this rule existed. There was of course a way to increase one’s own mana, but that method involved materials more valuable than the ones he had used for his ritual with a very high failure rate.

However, for some reason Bori’s mana had increased overnight. It had been so smooth that he had not realised it until the strange undead pointed it out. Quickly, he rushed back downstairs to the kitchen where he found Sage holding the fowl over the fire.

“You seemed to be in quite a hurry,”” she said without turning to him. “Did you have to go that urgently?”

He was in no mood to answer such a question.

“How is this possible?” he asked with wide eyes and ragged breaths.

She turned to him with a frown. “How is what possible?”

“My mana, how did it increase?”

“Why are you asking me?” She shrugged, turning back to face her grilling bird. “I know nothing about mana. Don’t even know how to cast spells.”

Bori was not willing to take that for an answer. “After thinking it through carefully I have concluded that I have done nothing that would result in my mana increasing over the past month. Except summoning you. What exactly are you?”

“Didn’t I already tell you that I am a phantom,” Sage replied, adding an annoyed harrumph at the end.

“That is all?” he asked. “Nothing else?”

Netherkin was not a specific race. Any undead could be a Netherkin. Maybe his ritual had not failed. Maybe Sage was a Netherkin and just did not know it.

But summoning a Netherkin doesn’t increase ones mana capacity, he thought.

“I am really not a Netherkin if that is what you’re thinking,” Sage debunked him. “My title is something called Darkborne.”

The moment he heard the word Darkborne all colour drained from his face. His body stiffened and his pulse increased to a rate that was dangerous for someone of his age. On any other occasion he would have tried to calm himself down but at that moment he did not even bother. It was impossible to calm himself after what he had just heard.

“Darkborne,” he muttered. She was Darkborne.

His mind went back to the ritual and how it drained more of his mana than he thought it would. At this moment he understood why. It was not because it failed, but rather because it had worked too well!

Sage, still focusing on her pheasant, was completely oblivious to his reaction. “By the way, there’s a favour I’d like to ask. Can you teach me how to read? Also I want to learn more about this world and when I’m done I would really appreciate it if you taught me magic.”

“Okay,” Bori replied simply, still staring at the back of her head.

Darkborne, Sage had proclaimed herself such but did not seem to know what it meant. If what she said was true, and Bori had no reason to doubt her, then she was something far greater than a Neterkin. No wonder she was able to command his undead. It was only natural.

Because Darkborne were the offspring of Death itself.