**Chapter Eighteen: Strategy**
As Rufuri, a third-tier knight of the Order of the Final Knights, squinted at the dense forest before him, he muttered, “It wasn’t a trap, was it…?”
“I was certain we’d be ambushed,” another knight replied.
“The barrier isn’t active. That means we have allies among us,” Senri stated calmly, folding the letter he had been holding and tucking it neatly into his pocket.
The letter was an invitation—an invitation to the stronghold of Lord Horos, the sender unknown. It was no wonder Rufuri was suspicious, but the doubts he had harbored until arriving here had been dispelled.
The **Exorcist’s Labyrinth** was an unparalleled spell. While it lacked the effects of physical barriers, it was unmatched when it came to obstructing paths. As long as this barrier was in effect, even if Senri and his companions entered the forest with a thousand men, they would never reach their destination, even if it were just a hundred meters away.
The only way to bypass the barrier was through a unique method. They needed the guidance of someone who knew the way. If a guide was present, the barrier would lose its effectiveness. This was the barrier’s weakness and the reason why the **Exorcist’s Labyrinth** was so powerful.
Moreover, this spell would not activate unless at least one guide was outside the barrier.
However, they were dealing with a necromancer’s minion. The enemy was aware that they were being pursued. They should be within a certain range of the barrier, but finding a single guide in such a short time was nearly impossible.
Senri had initially thought they would have to blow the entire forest away. The one-week deadline he had set upon Nebira was partly for the investigation of a guide, but also partly for him to resolve himself to the idea of obliterating the forest.
But now, there was no need to unnecessarily escalate the situation.
The letter sent to Senri contained a simple map, but it certainly served the role of a guide. He could sense that the barrier surrounding the forest was inviting them in. This meant that there were allies within the necromancer’s ranks.
There was someone who understood them. That fact empowered Senri. Facing off against a powerful second-tier necromancer, Senri Sylvis felt a calm resolve within himself.
Fear was—absent.
Fully armed, Senri wore a white cloak that mitigated all forms of physical and magical attacks, along with silver light armor that covered vital points of his body. He was equipped with an amulet to protect against curses and mental corruption, and he gripped his finely honed weapon, glaring into the depths of the forest.
One of the knights, a blonde woman named Thelma, who wielded a bow, swiftly nocked an arrow and took aim in an instant, releasing it with precision. The silver-tipped arrow, a weakness against the undead, struck and pierced the head of a black owl—a familiar—perched on a branch.
“Be careful. The enemy is likely accompanied by countless undead,” she warned.
“Ha! Senri, since when did you become the one worrying about us? Just focus on swinging your sword as usual. We’ll support you,” came the reassuring response from his comrades.
Nodding at their words, Senri transformed the blessings within him into a more efficient form. Energy surged through his slender body as he drew the holy silver sword hanging at his waist.
The energy of light erupted, filling the surroundings with brilliance. And thus, Senri and the Order of the Final Knights launched their assault toward Horos Carmen’s stronghold.
—
The war was about to begin. A battle of darkness and light, of life and death, of the Sacred and the Profane. Perhaps it was because they were undead, but even from within the mansion, she could sense the immense power of light approaching from afar.
The magnitude of it was incomparable to when they had first been discovered. This time, the Order of the Final Knights was different. They had come to kill the Lord—and her.
Yet, her body did not tremble. This was—resolve. No matter what sacrifices had to be made, she would survive, no matter the cost.
The only concern was—the Lord.
Even as he sensed the overwhelming power of light, the Lord’s expression remained devoid of fear. Was it due to the madness he harbored, or did he still believe there was a chance of victory before such power?
That was her only worry.
The Lord, bound by a magical contract with her, must—absolutely—die. As long as he existed, she would not even be granted the freedom to cower and flee in fear.
The Lord flung open the doors of the mansion, raising the short staff in his hand and shouting, “Ah, great embodiment of death, captive souls, arise now from the abyss and bring forth the invitation to death. Come forth, all living beings—trample them! ‘March of the Dead’!”
Before she knew it, countless corpses of beasts had gathered in the expansive garden of the mansion. Wolves, bears, monkeys, and crows—among them were those she had slain, transformed into undead by the Lord.
Ruu, who had followed behind her, widened her eyes in shock, breathing heavily. Though her body trembled, her gaze was fixed on the mass of decaying beasts.
The trees rustled ominously. Despite the sunlight shining down, an eerie presence made it feel as though night had fallen.
Before her, the corpse of a Night Wolf creaked and groaned, its already formidable body swelling. Its fangs grew larger, and its eyes ignited with a blood-red glow.
The transformation ended within seconds. She instinctively took a step back.
The Lord waved his staff like a conductor, and in response, the beasts roared in unison.
The undead army. That phrase echoed in her mind.
How was he planning to contend with the Order of the Final Knights using the undead he commanded? It was a mystery.
He could enhance them. The necromancer could not only resurrect the dead but also strengthen them!
The appearance of the undead summoned by the Lord had drastically changed.
They were larger, stronger, more ferocious—and more profane. The power emanating from them was beyond anything she had felt before. Perhaps he had overexerted himself, as blood and flesh splattered, filling the air with a putrid stench. Under the pouring sunlight, the dark beasts seemed to express their murderous intent as if they were about to devour the sun itself.
There was no signal. The beasts charged into the forest all at once, effortlessly leaping over the fence and disappearing into the thick, dark woods.
What remained were the now larger, more ferocious Skeleton Knights transformed by the Lord’s spell, and her—unchanged.
“I can buy some time. The main spell will take longer to prepare.”
“Are you not going to enhance me?”
The power was tremendous. If she didn’t lose consciousness, that is, but she too wished to receive an enhancement.
In response to her question, the Lord shot her a disdainful look.
“Those are merely pawns. Excessive power leads to one’s downfall. I cannot afford to destroy the vessel of the King of the Dead.”
I see… It seemed there were no easy answers. If it were that simple to enhance, the Lord would have done so long ago.
However, there was still much to learn from the Lord. The necromancer was an outlaw. It was meaningless to think about the future in such a state, but gathering detailed information about necromancy without the Lord would be a daunting task.
It was quite… unfortunate.
“They underestimate me—heh, I’ll show them. The materials are ready. I must thank Haku—ah, if we meet again after repelling them, I’ll turn them into splendid undead!!”
The Lord shouted. The grotesque Skeleton Knights stood still, awaiting his command.
Materials… was he referring to the enormous fangs he had received from Haku? Though she had no idea what kind of fangs they were, he seemed confident, so they must belong to a formidable monster.
She wanted no further involvement.
Turning to the Lord, who was caught up in his excitement, she said, “Lord, before we fight, I need to borrow that black amulet, the sunshade cloak, and a machete.”
“Hmm…?”
“There’s no one else to use them, right? They’re necessary for battle…”
This was a gamble. The shadow amulet was particularly important. It was likely a highly valuable item that could deceive even the eyes of the Final Knights.
To lead a peaceful life of escape afterward, it was absolutely essential.
The Lord looked at her with a momentary expression of suspicion, but soon let out a loud click of his tongue and said, “Very well. It’s in the laboratory. Once you take it, return to me immediately. This is an order. I will be in the hall.”
“Understood. Thank you.”
With a smile, she expressed her gratitude and dashed toward the laboratory alone.
—
Having gained a new life for nearly a year, she sprinted through the familiar mansion with all her might. They had likely gathered everyone, as she saw no sign of the Skeleton Knights that usually patrolled.
The laboratory door was unlocked. It was her first time entering this room alone.
She had to hurry. Time was of the essence.
The Lord’s laboratory was cluttered. Various potions, books, spare staffs, and unidentified bones were strewn about. If she could infiltrate alone, there were many things she would have liked to tamper with. However, ignoring all of that, she focused on retrieving the desired item from the Lord’s desk.
In the shadowy amulet of N/A, I donned a black cloak. Just as I pulled out my well-worn black-bladed hatchet, I paused. The cloak had the effect of reducing sunlight’s impact. The shadowy amulet of N/A concealed the presence of Negative energy, but what about the hatchet?
When I ventured into the city, I had not been allowed to carry this hatchet. It effortlessly cleaved through flesh and bone, and no matter how many times I swung it, the blade remained unblemished. This was clearly no ordinary hatchet.
Could it be—cursed?
Having used it countless times, it was undeniable that it had no adverse effects on my body. However, the Order of the Final Knights could sense Negative energy.
My hesitation was fleeting. After all, I had no intention of fighting, so I didn’t need a weapon. I would not give in to greed.
I possessed a trump card. Depending on how it was used, it could yield tremendous results. I had been waiting for the right moment to play it. The fact that I hadn’t used it during my initial attack on the Lord was a stroke of luck; there had been no need to.
My trump card was—
The name from my previous life.
Naming is a crucial act for a Mage. They bind people with names and contract with spirits. Thus, when the Lord resurrected me, he first bestowed upon me the name “End,” when I should have been a blank slate.
Yet, I remembered the name from my previous life.
The commands issued by the Lord contained both those that held power over me and those that did not. It was only a few days after my resurrection that I began to realize this.
I—having been called by a different name for over a decade in my previous life—retained vivid memories of that time. I was not “End.”
Since then, I had intentionally obeyed all of the Lord’s commands. Even if he had failed in naming me, I was an undead created by the Lord. If commanded without a name, I could easily slip and reveal my previous life’s name.
I had been biding my time, waiting for the perfect moment to betray the Lord.
And now, that moment had arrived.
It was I who wrote the letter to Senri. Using the paper and pen I acquired through a deal with Ruu… it was a gamble. There was a chance I wouldn’t be able to strike a deal with Ruu, and she might change her mind halfway through. Moreover, I couldn’t hand the letter directly to Senri, so there was a possibility it might never reach him. Even if it did, he might not act immediately.
But I won the gamble. The letter reached Senri, and he promptly gathered his comrades to come and slay the Lord. The ritual to create the King of the Dead had not been completed in time.
There were two miscalculations: Senri had not brought a First-Class Knight with him, and the Lord had several other trump cards up his sleeve.
The battle was far from over. I had wagered everything on Senri. If he failed, I would once again fall into the Lord’s clutches, never to be granted freedom again.
Yet, all I could do now was pray.
I donned the sun-blocking cloak and equipped the shadowy amulet of N/A. Breaking into a deep breath out of habit from a time long past, I dashed in the opposite direction of where the Lord had indicated the hall would be.