“Yeah… I don’t think so. What else can you offer me?” Lucas replied after a few seconds. The necromancer was shocked to hear that.

“You don’t want it?” Faruk asked, and the thought of Lucas rejecting his offer never crossed his mind.

“It’s just… I don’t want to judge you or anything, but I’m not sure if I would feel comfortable disturbing the dead like that. It just doesn’t seem right. And besides, although I like learning about magic, it isn’t my main source of power,” Lucas explained. Faruk showed a mocking smile on his face.

“You don’t want to ‘disturb the dead’? So you just want to kill the living?” he retorted, clearly referencing the man Lucas had killed moments ago. Lucas frowned.

“That is different. He wasn’t real, it was just an NPC.”

“Am I not real enough for you? I sure have a lot of memories in here,” he said, pointing towards his head. “Some of them are a little foggy, yes, but there’s still enough to make me a person. I have desires and emotions. If you ask me, I am as real as you, only in different situations. And if I’m real, what makes you think he isn’t?” Faruk replied, adopting that professorial tone that Lucas was beginning to hate, but he had to admit he had no response for that one. He chose to believe his opponent wasn’t real, because it would be easier to kill him that way, but now…

“What’s your point?” Lucas asked, in a grim mood.

“My point is that morals change according to the environment. It has always been that way. Maybe on your home planet, killing and desecrating the dead were considered wrong, there was probably a good reason for it to be this way, but now things have changed, your environment has changed. You might not be willing to kill now, but when killing represents a rise in power, don’t expect others to be as merciful as you. Many will jump at a chance to become more powerful, by any means necessary.”

“So I should just give up and become like them?”

“I’m not saying that you should be evil or cruel, but you need to have the proper heart to do what’s necessary when needed. If you need to kill, you kill. And if you need to take actions that are frowned upon to guarantee that you won’t be trampled by others, then that’s what you should do.”

Lucas paused to ponder Faruk’s words. Hadn’t he already faced tough choices? Hadn’t he used his bare bones to saw his way out of that web, leaving others behind to die? But the necromancer was right in one thing: the world had truly changed. While his old-world morals hindered him, preventing him from doing many things that could help him become stronger, others might be seizing any opportunity to gain power. If the “wicked” were the most powerful beings, what would be of the rest?

“Even if you are right, I don’t see how an army of dead would be the best option for me, when I can focus on things that are related to my own class and the more straightforward aspects of magic,” Lucas replied after some time. He noticed a change in Faruk’s expression upon hearing that.

“I suppose it hasn’t been long since you arrived on your new planet, right?” Faruk inquired.

“It’s been two months,” Lucas answered.

“Yes, it shouldn’t be too long now,” Faruk said, seeming to be lost in memories, but then he turned serious again. “You don’t see the need for an army of undead now, and you would be right if things remained the same as they are now.”

“What do you mean?” Lucas raised an eyebrow.

“As people grow in power around the planet, factions will naturally form, and conflict between them will arise. It happened on my planet, and it will happen on yours as well. Factions will seek control over cities and later expand their influence toward multiple cities. If you haven’t established your own power by then, you’ll be absorbed or destroyed.”

Lucas had been so focused on himself that he had ignored the existence of others until now. He didn’t even consider the possibility of a city being taken over. But if someone surpassed the influence and power of a mayor, wouldn’t it be possible? His actions so far have been mainly focused on increasing his own power; he hadn’t given much thought to public relations.

If he was being honest, he wasn’t sure if he wanted to. He didn’t want to be a leader of people, he liked having only himself to take care of. However, the picture Faruk painted was dreadful. It seemed like even if he didn’t want to get involved in politics, he would inevitably be drawn in as long as he remained on the same planet as others.

“Is that why you formed your army of undead? To stand up against other factions?” Lucas asked.

“That was one of the reasons. The other was a matter of convenience; I don’t tend to trust people much, since my wife… well, with the undead I don’t have to. They do what I tell them to do. They are the best army I could ask for,” Faruk answered truthfully.

Lucas fell silent once more. Theoretically, if he had an army like the undead, which he didn’t need to manage or be a leader figure, he could stand his ground even against many adversaries and protect the city he was in. Aysha and Hilda lived there; he couldn’t just walk away if something happened. He bit his lips. It was a tough decision, one he hadn’t expected to have to make during the challenge.

After further consideration on Faruk’s offer and despite his inner desire to ignore these problems and focus on himself, he knew he couldn’t. He had to be smart about this, and the undead army truly seemed like the best option for him. He just wasn’t sure about the condition the necromancer had established.

“Why do you want this vengeance so badly, though? Wouldn’t it be better if you gave me a way to raise you from the dead? I’m sure you must have a method or two,” Lucas suggested, not comfortable at all with the idea of killing a man he didn’t even know. He even preferred to go through all the trouble of making the necromancer live again.

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“It isn’t so easy to go back to the world of the living after dying as you seem to think. Not if you want to keep your conscience intact. But you are right; I might have a method. But it doesn’t matter,” he sighed, gazing at the horizon. “When I was alive, I had two objectives: to find a way to bring my wife back and to seek vengeance on the man who killed her. I failed on both accounts,” he said, sadness evident in his voice.

“When my wife died, I wasn’t a necromancer yet. I was still merely a light warrior. It was still early days after the transition of planets, and people were still trying to understand how everything worked. So, when it happened, I was powerless to help her, to bring her back.” His voice trailed off, and he fell silent for a few seconds before continuing.

“I let the man who killed her go after he did it. He said it was an accident, he had tears in his eyes, pleading for my forgiveness. Despite my fury, I believed him. Later, I realized how wrong I was to let him go at that time. That was my last real chance to kill him while he was still weak enough for me to do it. Turns out that person had a strange ability. To this this day, I’m not sure of what it is, but I would bet it’s some kind of bloodline ability.”

Lucas listened intently to his words. He had read about bloodlines before and found them even more mysterious than special constitutions, but it was the first time he heard someone else talk about them.

“As he grew in power, this ability of his became more and more obvious to anyone paying attention. For me, it was even more apparent because I had seen him use it firsthand on the day he used it for the first time; he could steal skills.”

“What? How?” Lucas felt fear for the first time hearing the necromancer’s story. Someone who could steal skills—could he steal his bone blade too? The thought sent a chill down his spine. He had already started seeing the bone blade as his, and the thought of someone stealing it…

“For this, he only needed to kill his target. At least, that’s what I believe. But again, he never came forward and announced the matter. These are my assumptions, and you can choose to believe them or not,” Faruk explained.

“How did you come up with this theory?” Lucas asked, intrigued.

“My wife had acquired a peculiar skill a few days before her death. She could stun beasts using only her palms. That was a pretty big deal for our group at the time, because it helped immensely with the hunting situation. The stun effect left most beasts helpless to fight back and combined with our teamwork, it vastly improved our hunting success. Soon enough, there was enough food for everyone. The circumstances of how she acquired it remain mysterious to me, and I believed not even she understood it well. According to her story, she had eaten a strange mushroom and immediately collapsed, and afterward, when she woke up, she had gained that skill.”

“Naturally, news of it spread. People didn’t know any better at the time than to keep secrets of things like this. There was even one or two who tried eating a poisonous mushroom to see if they could also get a skill, only to almost die in the end and gain nothing in return. That mushroom she had eaten must’ve really been special, because I never found another one like it.”

“That’s when he came along. He was a young man and very helpful around the camp we had set up, so we saw no harm in him joining us on our hunts. I should’ve known from the start that there was something wrong with him. There was a certain emptiness in his eyes, a lack of emotion, but I didn’t pay it much heed; it was troubling times after all. And then, when I wasn’t paying attention… well, she was dead, and he had blood on his hands.”

“He didn’t even try to deny his fault; he just kept repeating that it was an accident. Despite my anger, I tried not to judge him too harshly. You know, at that point, everyone was getting used to this new life, and mistakes happened. So I tried. I repressed the rage inside me.”

“Even then, I noticed how distracted he was. At the time, I thought it was due to the stress of the situation, but now I know he was looking at his new skill. From this, it’s easy to understand how I knew he had this ability. One day, he disappeared from our camp, but his reputation only grew from there: the man who could stun beasts and people alike using only his palms and had many other skills in his back pocket, which he no doubt stole from others on his path.”

Lucas noticed the necromancer’s hands clenched tight with rage.

“When I realized what he had done and continued doing, I tried my best to do everything I could to become powerful enough to put an end to him. And when I received the class switch option to become a necromancer, I thought my chance had finally arrived. But the speed at which he gained power surpassed all expectations, and I never managed to catch up, despite reaching heights I never thought possible when I first arrived. No matter what I did, the gap between us kept widening, and it didn’t take long for him to leave the planet afterward.”

“I don’t want to be insensitive or anything, but that’s the man you want me to face, a thousand years later? Are you sure he isn’t dead already?” Lucas asked, but the necromancer shook his head.

“Our longevity changes as our levels go up. If nobody killed him, he’s still alive.”

Lucas placed his hands on his head. He kind of knew already from the books that longevity changed with levels, but a thousand years still seemed like a lot. He was really convinced about how an army of undead could be useful to him down the line, but this mission Faruk wanted him to accomplish seemed suicidal.

“If you didn’t manage to close the gap between both of you back them, what makes you think I can go above and beyond, and reach his level after I started this race a thousand years later?”

“The path to power is not a sprint but a marathon. My problem was never time, it was talent. I had clearly reached the end of my road when I decided to take that orb, and you managed to do the same much earlier,” Faruk spoke. “I know what I’m asking is a lot, but what I’m offering is a lot too. I was the only necromancer on my planet; it isn’t a very common class, and to form an army of undead is one of the hardest things you can do, not only because of the difficulty of the endeavor but also because of the scarcity of information about the topic. Besides, I’m not asking you to go kill him right now, he don’t even need to know who you are before you are ready.”

Lucas frowned and paced back and forth, debating with himself what he should do, before grunting:

“How come you didn’t write anything about creating an army of undead in your journal?” At this point, Lucas had at least glanced at every important topic in that journal, and at no point did it mention an army of undead.

The necromancer smirked. “For that exact reason, I didn’t want it to fall into the wrong hands.”

Touché, Lucas thought. And then he began to think about what he would need to do if he accepted. Faruk didn’t know about his unique class, or unique skill. If he did, would he make the same proposal? For that guy, wouldn’t Lucas be a delicious snack just coming his way? An easy prey to acquire the most amazing skill? But in the end, it didn’t matter if he knew. It was up to Lucas to make the decision, and while he didn’t like the fact that he had to kill some random guy in the future, the guy really sounded like a real prick, so it wasn’t that bad. Besides, he had already decided that if he wasn’t willing to take any risks, it would be hard to get anything good.

“All right, I’ll do it.”