**Chapter Two: Test Run**
Following Lord, I stepped out of the mansion. The scene that unfolded before me left me speechless, though I managed to conceal my astonishment.
Most of my previous life had been spent in a sickbed. A mysterious illness plagued me, causing relentless headaches, stomach pains, and a constant, debilitating ache throughout my body. The cause was unknown, and there was no cure; not even the most skilled doctors or powerful mages could heal this incurable disease. By the time I was nearing ten, I could barely stand on my own, and for the remaining years of my life, the world outside my bedroom window was all I knew.
I was utterly naïve. Most of my knowledge came from the books I read while bedridden, and this was the first time I had stepped outside in over a decade. Yet, even I could tell that the location of Lord’s mansion was anything but ordinary.
Surrounding the mansion was a dark, foreboding forest. The hour seemed to be late, with the sky shrouded in darkness, and a large, silvery moon shone quietly above. The mansion was encircled by a tall metal fence, topped with long spikes to deter any would-be climbers.
The only gate was sturdy and tightly shut. Before my frozen form, Lord came to a halt and raised his hand slightly. That was the signal, for quiet footsteps approached.
I glanced sideways without turning around. I nearly gasped at what I saw but managed to suppress the urge.
Three wolves, their fur as black as night, drew closer. They were about half my size—large enough that I could almost ride one if I tried. The wolves split to either side of Lord, growling softly as they halted.
I instinctively understood. These wolves were—corpses. Given Lord’s nature, it was only logical to think so from the start.
The wolves moved with agility, their fangs and claws sharp, yet upon closer inspection, their eyes were clouded. As a necromancer, it was not surprising that he could animate the dead, even if they were not human.
Indeed… there was no escape. Even if I managed to flee from the basement, I wouldn’t be able to get away. If I ran without a plan, I would surely be caught. I hadn’t run in years, let alone walked properly. With the same condition as the wolves, there was no chance I could win a game of tag against them.
Lord produced a key from his pocket and unlocked the gate, issuing a brief command.
“Come, End. Show me your power.”
Power…? What power could I possibly have? The machete I was given felt heavy in my hands. If I were alive, I would have long since lost the strength to lift it.
My silent protest went unheard. I had no choice but to follow. With Lord stepping through the gate, I reluctantly trailed behind.
The night forest I entered for the first time was eerie, even with my enhanced vision. The rustling of the wind, the calls of insects and beasts—all of it was terrifying. Yet Lord pressed forward without hesitation, flanked by the wolves. There was a regal air about him, as if he were a king. In truth, he likely was one—a dark lord commanding the undead. And I, trailing behind, was merely one of his servants.
The forest bore no signs of human presence. I stumbled over the uneven ground, desperately trying to keep up with Lord. The dense underbrush obscured my view, and I feared getting lost.
For now, my body, devoid of fatigue, was a blessing.
But where was Lord heading? What was his purpose?
After following him for several minutes, something glimmered at the edge of my vision—a movement in the underbrush. The wolves at Lord’s sides growled softly.
Lord muttered, seemingly bored, “At last… they’ve appeared…”
The underbrush rustled, and a larger black shape cautiously emerged. It was a wolf, bigger than those accompanying Lord. They were likely of the same breed. The jet-black wolf drooled, its eyes gleaming as they locked onto me and Lord.
My body tensed. This was my first encounter with a wild wolf. While it might not be a significant threat to Lord, for someone who had never moved properly, it was entirely different.
The black wolf did not leap immediately but circled us slowly, maintaining eye contact. Yet Lord showed no signs of fear, merely narrowing his eyes.
“…Too many… This number is impossible.”
With those words, I finally realized we were surrounded.
All around us, eyes glinted in the darkness. The wolves blended seamlessly into the shadows, their movements silent and graceful.
A pack. I had forgotten. Wolves are creatures that form packs.
If my body were alive, I would have likely collapsed from sheer tension. But since I was already dead, I could observe my surroundings without revealing my shock. Sixteen glowing eyes—there were eight wolves in total, more than double the number of Lord’s.
Though Lord wore an expression of discomfort, he showed no signs of fear. The wolves began to close in on us. Upon confirming their approach, Lord simply snapped his fingers.
That was all it took for the necromancer, Horos Carmen. The three dead wolves that had been guarding him sprang into action.
It felt as if I were trapped in a nightmare. The wolf on the right charged at the nearest living wolf, while the one on the left sank its teeth into the throat of the struggling beast, tearing it apart.
I watched in horror, my eyes wide. The enemy had the advantage in numbers, yet Lord’s wolves were far stronger. Even I, who had never been in a fight, could see the stark difference.
Though smaller in size, their physical abilities were clearly superior. The enemy wolves moved fluidly and swiftly, but Lord’s wolves were like shadows, darting through the night.
Moreover, they showed no hesitation in their attacks. They lunged straight at their foes, biting without regard for their own safety, moving with the precision of finely-tuned machines.
Finally, the carnage ceased only after five of the pack had been slain, with three fleeing deeper into the forest. Once again, the remaining wolves gathered around Lord as if nothing had happened, but there was no sense of loyalty in their demeanor.
I stood there, dumbfounded by their strength and savagery.
A necromancer. One of the most malevolent beings among the many sorcerers in existence.
While I wasn’t an expert, I knew that necromancy—manipulating the souls and remains of the dead—was considered a global taboo, often depicted as a mad villain in myths, fairy tales, and operas.
I had known this in theory, but witnessing such power firsthand made it clear why it was so reviled.
It was utterly—blasphemous.
I held no affection for the wolves, but anyone witnessing this scene would undoubtedly label it as “evil.”
And by being resurrected through that very presence, I too had become—an evil being.
Could I possibly win against this man, who defiled the dead and openly defied the world?
No, I had to win. If I didn’t, I would soon share the same fate as those poor wolves.
As Lord examined the corpses of the slain wolves, he murmured, “Hmm… there aren’t enough Night Wolves, but—let’s leave them be. We move on.”
He had said “at last,” but was the goal truly the Night Wolves?
Yet, upon reflection, if the Night Wolves were his objective, there would be no reason to bring me along. I had been handed a machete, but had yet to receive any orders.
I hadn’t been commanded to protect Lord or clear a path through the underbrush. I was merely told to follow.
After walking for several more minutes, I sensed no signs of human presence in the forest. Perhaps no one would dare enter a night forest, especially with such large wolves lurking about. We were certainly far from town.
As we walked, beasts frequently appeared—clearly hostile creatures that bore ill will toward us. Perhaps these were the magical beasts I had heard of.
The first wolves Lord had called Night Wolves were dwarfed by a massive, club-wielding ape, a fox wreathed in blue flames, and a large boar the color of moss. If I had encountered any of these alone, I would have been helplessly slaughtered, yet Lord’s wolves dispatched them with ease.
This was bad. This forest was far more dangerous than I had imagined. Even if I managed to evade the animated wolves and slip past Lord’s gaze, I would have no chance of escaping once I crossed the fence.
As I followed Lord deeper into the forest, several things became clear to me.
This body was not only free from fatigue but also completely devoid of pain. The ground was uneven, and I had stumbled several times, branches snagging at my limbs, yet I felt nothing. I sensed no limits to my stamina. The forest was dense, but it couldn’t be too far to the nearest settlement. No matter how skilled a magician Lord might be, it was unlikely he could conjure a mansion out of thin air. He would need food and supplies. It was only natural to assume there had to be some human presence here.
While sorting through my thoughts and desperately trying to keep pace, Lord suddenly came to a halt. Had another beast appeared? The sound of rustling branches accompanied the emergence of a large shadow.
It was a bear. Perhaps still a cub, it stood about half my height, but its long claws, developed on its powerful limbs, were more than enough to be menacing. The beasts we had encountered so far had all been in packs, but this one seemed to be alone. If it was Lord’s wolf, it would be an easy target.
As I pondered this, Lord caught me off guard with his words.
“End, fight.”
…Huh?
For a moment, I couldn’t comprehend what he had just said.
Fight? Me?
In light of my knowledge as a necromancer, it was a command I should have anticipated. For a necromancer, the undead are mere tools of war. However, I had unconsciously dismissed that possibility. I was frail. I had never fought a beast, let alone had any experience in brawling. I had never trained my body. I knew nothing of combat.
I glanced at the machete I held loosely in one hand. This was impossible. Even though the bear was small, it was still a bear. There was no way an untrained, talentless human could defeat a creature blessed with natural strength.
The bear’s eyes glinted with malice as it faced me. It showed no signs of retreat, even after seeing Lord’s wolves drenched in blood. I had my machete, but the bear had its claws. No matter how pain-free my body felt, I would be rendered immobile if torn apart. It was hopeless. Absolutely hopeless.
As I hesitated, not even raising my weapon, Lord looked at me with a puzzled expression. His commanding words reverberated in my mind.
“What’s wrong? This is an order. ‘Fight with all your strength and kill it.’”
My legs propelled me forward. I only realized it after the bear charged at me.
My body moved on its own, leaving behind all fear and hesitation. In that moment, I became just another helpless spectator. My hand raised the machete high and swung it down toward the bear. The bear lifted its arm to intercept my sudden attack.
The blade sank deep into its left arm. I felt the sensation of flesh parting and striking bone. The bear roared, charging at me headfirst.
A shock coursed through my entire being. I heard a sound within me, like something bursting. It was a sound I had never heard before, a fatal one. Yet, my grip on the machete did not falter, and I felt no pain.
My head moved. Before I could even scream, I lunged forward and bit into the bear’s ear. The overwhelming scent of the beast invaded my senses, and the hard texture of its flesh and fur against my teeth made me feel nauseous.
My teeth shattered, and an unpleasant sound echoed from my jaw. The bear shook its head violently, trying to throw me off. A piece of the ear I had bitten off fell from my mouth.
The nausea and the smell quickly faded from my mind.
In that moment—I was undeniably a “monster,” one that everyone would turn away from.
My left hand moved instantly, thrusting toward the bear’s right eye. I felt my fingertips pierce something soft before its right foreleg slammed into my outstretched arm.
I heard a sickening crack as a bone broke. A shard of bone jutted out from my left arm. The tip of my fully extended finger was also broken. Yet, I felt no pain, and my finger, piercing the bear’s eye, began to obey Lord’s command and pushed forward.
The bear was powerful—far more so than I. It was a creature I could never hope to defeat in my original frail state. However, Lord’s command was even more potent. Even a beast that attacked humans without hesitation had a sense of pain. But I felt none. My right hand forcibly pulled the machete free, blood spraying as the bear let out a roar that sounded like a scream.
Had its spine broken? My vision swayed. Yet, disregarding such thoughts, my arm swung the machete high, and in accordance with Lord’s command, I brought it crashing down toward the bear’s thick neck with all my might.