**Chapter 20: Darkness and Light II**
—
As I walked through the eerily silent mansion, devoid of any signs of life, the narrow corridor illuminated by the sacred light felt profoundly unsettling.
The presence of darkness grew stronger, the suffocating miasma thick enough to paralyze anyone unaccustomed to it.
Holos Carmen was attempting something. Whether it was a desperate last-ditch effort or the culmination of long preparations, Senri could not discern. However, the opponent was a cunning necromancer. An evil mage who had survived for many years surely had one or two trump cards up their sleeve.
The miasma enveloping the entire mansion was gradually eroding the blessings surrounding Senri and the others. While it hadn’t yet infiltrated their bodies, this place was akin to being inside the enemy’s domain.
It felt as if the entire world had been shrouded in darkness. Senri’s senses were no longer functioning as they should.
He could sense the undead nearby, but while he had a vague idea of their direction, he couldn’t tell how many meters away they were. Normally, he would have a clear understanding, but now it felt as if he were blindfolded and deafened.
In this state, his only reliance was on his five senses. He walked straight toward the overwhelming darkness. There were many rooms, but none emitted any presence from within. The top priority was Holos Carmen, who was likely lying in wait at the innermost chamber.
“Tch. Just as Master Epe said, this is a troublesome necromancer. Maybe… a vampire might show up?”
“That’s… unlikely, I think. A cautious, second-tier necromancer is very unlikely to use a dangerous vampire. …It might be possible for a lower-ranked one, though.”
“…I was joking. Just joking, Senri. You’re too serious.”
Nebira frowned, looking exasperated.
“However… that’s true. If, by any chance, a vampire does appear—retreating might be the best option.”
Vampires are a special type of undead. They possess numerous weaknesses, but compared to their pre-mutation forms, they exhibit extraordinarily different abilities. With immense physical strength and the ability to regenerate completely even after losing much of their body, they possess intelligence that surpasses that of humans. Yet, what makes these undead different is their high resistance to magic.
And because of that—an intelligent necromancer would never turn their undead into a vampire. Vampires possess high resistance to magic, and that applies equally to necromancy.
Vampires raised by necromancers often end up killing their creators. They look down on humans due to their superior abilities, yet they also harbor jealousy for the weaknesses that humans do not possess. A vampire, having reached the pinnacle of death’s power, is said to sometimes be impervious even to the absolute “commands” that should bind them. Such beings are not something that humans can handle. Vampires are the most notorious curses created by necromancers.
Thus, the longer a wise necromancer lives, the less likely they are to create a vampire. Only foolish third-tier necromancers, who fail to realize that such beings are beyond their control, or first-tier necromancers, who possess the power and confidence to command them, would create vampires.
Vampires can sometimes single-handedly slay third-tier knights. When they appear in battles against necromancers, it is recommended to retreat and devise a new strategy.
However, that concern was likely unfounded. If the necromancer could control vampires, they would be more aggressive in their approach. After all, the undead are extremely vulnerable to sunlight, and timing is crucial.
Suddenly, Senri’s ears caught the faint sound of footsteps from somewhere. He stopped, raised his head, and directed his keen gaze toward the source of the light. This was no mere illusion.
“Wait… they’re coming.”
Rufuri and the others had already halted in a similar manner.
The footsteps were numerous. The clattering of hard objects scraping against metal echoed ominously. Imagining the enemy’s undead form, Senri tightened his grip on his sword.
Then, from the corridor ahead, they appeared. Rufuri clicked her tongue softly.
“Damn… Crimson Skeleton knights.”
“There are too many.”
The crimson-boned knights rushed forward with high-pitched sounds, unable to line up in the narrow corridor.
Crimson Skeletons are special entities imbued with the dark blessings of a necromancer. Enhanced and coated, these skeletons possess resistance to the blessings wielded by the knights of the end, making them terrifying foes that attack while undergoing purification.
Yet, the power of light is formidable. If they unleashed “Soul Release” with all their might, it could pierce through the dark blessings and purify them. However, it was clear that the enemy aimed to exhaust Senri and his companions.
Nebira glared at the rushing Crimson Skeleton knights and spoke in a low, threatening voice.
“Hey, Senri. Don’t use it.”
“…I know.”
This was not the enemy’s main force yet. If he attempted to blow away the army before him with the power of purification, even someone as blessed as Senri would suffer considerable exhaustion. If they were to conserve their strength, they needed to figure out how to deal with the current situation.
At that moment, the sound of a door opening echoed from behind. Countless footsteps approached from the rear. Therma shouted sharply.
“Damn it… we’re surrounded!”
“I didn’t sense them… Were they hidden by a barrier!?”
From the room they had just passed through, numerous Crimson Skeleton knights emerged. Their bodies were protected by metal armor, and their gauntleted hands gripped swords and shields.
They were likely the bones of mercenaries skilled in combat. Their careful yet forceful movements displayed undeniable technique. Therma’s silver arrow aimed at a skull was easily deflected by a sword.
There must be some individual variation, but to gather this many warrior bones…
“Be careful.”
“Who are you talking to, object!?”
“Let’s go!”
Even though they were protected by armor and reinforced by dark blessings, the opponents were still undead. A single strike from a weapon imbued with blessings could purify them. At Senri’s command, his comrades quickly spread out.
Leaving his back to his allies, Senri faced the advancing skeleton knights, directing his shining sword at them.
—
The mace shattered the skeletal body along with its armor, and an arrow imbued with blessings slipped through the gaps in the armor, purifying the evil entity. While Senri and his companions specialized in defeating dark minions, they were not incompetent in combat against humans. The battle was consistently in their favor.
The Crimson Skeleton knights were powerful and possessed martial skills, but they did not know how to retreat. This was their weakness, being controlled by a necromancer.
None of his comrades had sustained significant injuries, and the number of purified knights had already exceeded twenty. Countless weapons belonging to the purified Crimson Skeletons lay scattered across the floor.
“Damn it, there are too many! How many are there!?”
“Shut up and keep fighting!”
However, even at this stage, it seemed as though the enemy’s numbers had hardly diminished.
The onslaught of the skeletal knights showed no signs of stopping, and the swords that descended upon them, crushing their allies’ weapons, held enough power to inflict negative injuries even on the enhanced knights. The miasma was slowly eroding their blessings. Fatigue was evident on his comrades’ faces, and a hint of conflict passed through them.
How many soldiers did the enemy have? Perhaps it would be better to retreat and regroup in the city.
On the other hand, the undead enemies felt no such anxiety.
“Don’t rush it!”
“Damn it…”
Senri bit his lip, contemplating whether to unleash “Soul Release” at Rufuri’s words. He deflected the descending blade with his silver sword and, using his blessed strength, pushed forward. The blade pierced through the armor, turning the Skeleton Knight into dust.
They were running out of time. Their blessings were not infinite, nor was their stamina. While they could hold their ground against the undead with five people, if even one of them fell, their situation would become even more dire. Rufuri and the others were worried about Senri’s exhaustion, but Senri was equally concerned about his comrades’ fatigue.
There was no time for deliberation. The Crimson Skeleton knights were different from the undead they had fought in the forest. If he used “Soul Release” to purify the army here—how many times could he use it afterward? Twice? Three times?
“I’m fine. I still have strength left.”
“Damn it…”
Rufuri and the others did not respond.
They had no choice but to act. It was frustrating to move according to the enemy’s wishes, but it was impossible to purify this many undead with the blessings of a third-tier knight. Resolving himself, Senri deflected a knight’s thrust aimed at him and infused his sword with the power of blessings.
Just as he was about to unleash his power, an unexpected figure caught his eye.
Amidst the skeletal knights, there was a human woman. She wore a black collar of slavery around her neck and looked pale as she gazed at him.
The decision was made in an instant. Channeling an excessive amount of power into his sword, light erupted in a dazzling explosion.
“‘Soul Release’ N/A!”
A tremendous wave of fatigue washed over him, causing his hands to tremble. The overwhelming force transformed into a blinding radiance that surged through the narrow corridor. The Crimson Skeleton Knights caught in its path disintegrated into dust in an instant. Not even the blessings of darkness could shield them from the raging storm of light.
As the brilliance faded, the sounds of armor and weapons clattering to the ground echoed through the air. His knees threatened to buckle, but he steeled himself, drawing strength from his core.
With violet eyes wide open, he cautiously assessed the situation. The corridor, which had been filled with an astonishing number of knights just moments ago, was now devoid of any Crimson Skeleton Knights.
Scattered across the floor were the remnants of weapons, and standing alone amidst the chaos was a single figure, just about to radiate the light of Purification. It was a woman. In her right hand, she held a small, seemingly inadequate knife compared to the weapons of the Crimson Skeleton Knights.
‘Soul Release’ was a technique designed specifically for combating undead. No matter how much power was infused, it would not harm a human. He understood this, yet he couldn’t help but breathe a sigh of relief at her presence.
Thank goodness…
The woman had black hair and a pallid complexion. She looked as though she hadn’t eaten properly, her body lacking any semblance of healthy flesh. Given that she had been mingling among the undead, she was likely a slave of Holos Carmen.
And he recognized her face. Just a few days prior, he had seen her in the city, looking unwell, and had cast a healing spell on her.
The woman, appearing dazed, was glancing around. Senri took a slow, deep breath, steadying his ragged breathing that threatened to become erratic. The aura of darkness still lingered, but it seemed the threat from the Crimson Skeleton Knights had come to an end.
He felt a heavy fatigue enveloping him, but it was not enough to render him incapable of fighting.
What was her name again… Ruu?
“Fool! Senri, what kind of overwhelming power did you just unleash—N/A!”
“It’s… fine now…”
Ruu stumbled forward, her steps unsteady. Fortunately, she didn’t appear to have any serious injuries. He opened his arms, ready to catch her.
But just as her bony shoulder was about to touch his hand, the small knife in her right hand suddenly sprang up.
The dull blade, which looked like it could barely cut, was aimed directly at Senri.
It was a clumsy attack, far too slow, with her trembling hand betraying her lack of strength. Even in his fatigued state, Senri could easily withstand such a feeble strike.
His mind momentarily blanked, but clarity returned almost immediately. For someone like Senri, who had faced countless minions of darkness, dodging or absorbing a blow from an Elemental was trivial. Even if he were to take the hit unguarded, it would be impossible for a blessed Senri to sustain a fatal injury.
He twisted his neck, shifting his body out of the knife’s trajectory. The blade whizzed past him, barely missing.
And then—right before Senri’s eyes, Ruu was sent flying.
His outstretched arms grasped at nothing but air. A soft thud echoed as something fell to the ground.
Ruu lay sprawled on the floor, her eyes wide open in shock. A silver arrow protruded from her chest. It was a bolt from Telma. Blood mixed with saliva dribbled from her pale lips, and her limbs twitched weakly.
For a brief moment, his thoughts went blank as he rushed to her side. But it was already clear that her injury was fatal.
Life was slipping away from her. All Senri could do was watch helplessly.
Telma’s voice, laced with anger and sorrow, broke the silence. “I understand your feelings, but… to let your guard down and welcome a minion of the Necromancer like this—what were you thinking?”
“Ha… this time… it’s… Telma who’s right. No matter how much of a slave she is, we can’t know what she’s been taught. You know the stories too. The ones about those who were captured by the Necromancer, only to be devoured by the monsters they became.”
Ruu’s words echoed in his ears, but their meaning failed to register. He lifted her nearly weightless body, so devoid of flesh it felt unreal.
He understood. The Necromancer was a being who strayed from the path of humanity, creating tragedy wherever they went. As a Knight of the End, Senri had witnessed countless tragedies. The number of those he couldn’t save was beyond counting.
Nebira looked down at the dying Ruu with cold eyes.
“It’s not our job to save her. Our duty is to—destroy. To prevent tragedies before they occur.”
“…”
The Knights of the End were ruthless. For those who fought against magic, kindness could often become a hindrance. Even if a First-Class Knight with combat abilities far surpassing Senri were present, the outcome would likely remain unchanged.
For the Knights of the End, who battled the soul-manipulating Necromancer, death was a form of salvation.
Ruu’s lips parted slightly as she lay in his arms. All he could hear was the sound of her labored breathing. Tears streamed from her eyes, and with a faint smile, she closed her eyelids, surrendering to the void.
With trembling hands, he laid her still-warm body gently on the floor. Biting his tongue to suppress his emotions, he stood unsteadily.
His grip on the sword tightened until his knuckles turned white. No one dared to approach Senri. They simply posed a quiet question to him.
“Can you still fight…?”
“Once I defeat Holos… I will build her a grave.”
Senri spoke in a trembling voice, clenching his teeth as he gazed ahead.
—
The Necromancer awaited them in the heart of the mansion—an expansive hall that had been thrown wide open. After the onslaught of Crimson Skeleton Knights, there was no further resistance. Yet, it was clear that this was not the end.
Holos Carmen was an elderly man. He stood calmly, flanked by two Skeleton Knights, exuding an air of sinister confidence.
His face was etched with wrinkles, his hair a stark white, but his eyes gleamed with a vitality that belied his age. His small frame was draped in a pitch-black robe, and he held a short staff in his right hand. Unlike his master, Epe, who radiated an ageless energy, this man’s age was a mystery of a different kind.
As he locked eyes with Holos, it felt as though he were peering into an unfathomable abyss. The bizarre blood magic circle drawn on the carpet sent shivers down Rufuri and the others’ spines.
“Finally, you have arrived… Knights of the End. To have scattered my forces and made it this far, you are indeed formidable…”
“Holos Carmen. In the name of Senri Sylvis, one of the Order of the Final Knights… I will kill you N/A!”
“Hmph… it seems Ruu was of some use after all.”
“N/A!!”
Holos Carmen showed no sign of disturbance at Senri’s words, which were laced with the weight of the Order of the Final Knights.
Persuasion was futile. He wanted to confront him about Ruu’s death, but that too was impossible. The being before him was entirely different from Ruu. He was pure Evil, having chosen this path himself.
Senri found himself unable to move. Not from fear, but due to the presence of Holos Carmen’s hidden power.
At that moment, Holos appeared defenseless. But that was a grave misconception. A negative aura unlike anything he had ever felt before enveloped the hall. Holos Carmen shouted.
“However, my spell is already complete. This place—has become another realm. Those who dare to obstruct my tragic ambition—behold the power of my death—and burn it into your eyes before you perish N/A!”
The ground trembled, the air quaked. The two Skeleton Knights suddenly crumbled, their black objects flying toward the center of the magic circle.
—And then, it unexpectedly took form.
Senri understood. It was—fangs. Two massive fangs.
Rufuri and the others stepped back, their faces pale. They had realized the nature of the spell.
Darkness began to coalesce around the fangs. Arms sprouted with sharp claws, massive wings that blocked out the sunlight, and fangs capable of crushing anything formed alongside glowing eyes. Holos Carmen laughed triumphantly.
“Behold N/A! This is—my ultimate Necromancy N/A!”
“Impossible… just two fangs—”
Even Nebira, who usually maintained a carefree demeanor, trembled as he gripped his mace tightly.
Indeed, what stood before them was the pinnacle of Necromancy that Senri had ever witnessed. Typically, to create undead from corpses, a significant portion of the body needed to remain intact. Senri had never heard of a case where just two fangs could give rise to undead.
It was—a black evil dragon.
With wings, fangs, claws, and a massive tail. Its smooth skin was covered in a network of veins, and it had regained its lost blood and flesh with pure darkness. Its size was so immense that it could not fit within the mansion. Its head easily broke through the ceiling, sunlight illuminating its dark form.
The evil dragon roared, as if to rebel against the sun itself.
Holos Carmen shouted, commanding with a fierce intensity.
“Now, kill them! Guardian of Death, Warden of the Underworld!”
What a presence—Evil. Just how long had it honed its craft? The pitch-black essence formed from Negative energy far surpassed even the Vampire that Senri had once battled.
Energy of Destruction gathered in its gaping maw. The concentration of power was instantaneous. It was as if a hole had opened in the world, swirling with that inky energy.
And then, flames were unleashed. The black flames surged forth like a beam, engulfing Senri and the others. It mimicked the breath of the strongest among mythical beasts—a dragon.
Yet, Senri felt no fear.
As always, he focused his mind, gazing into the impending death, pouring all his blessings into his sword. Then, he swung it.
“‘Annihilation (Photon-Delete)’!”
“What!?”
The light that overflowed from the blade transformed into a streak of shooting star, swallowing the dark flames. Without any resistance, it obliterated the flames and surged forward, annihilating half of the wicked dragon’s form.
His strength waned. Fatigue throbbed painfully in his head. His body threatened to collapse. Yet, his gaze remained fixed, glaring at Holos Carmen.
Annihilation. It was the divine art of his Master, Epe. This technique, which concentrated an immense amount of blessing in an instant and unleashed it, was simple yet held the potential to slay any dark minion. It was a pure display of power. Moreover, it was the technique that suited Senri best.
The expended energy was quickly replenished. This was his nature. His mentor, Epe, had referred to Senri’s constitution as a soul that continued to ascend with boundless power.
It was a blessing bestowed upon him by the gods, meant to forge him into a Knight of the End.
Though he had exhausted some energy along the way, it was more than sufficient to blow away the Necromancer. Senri had never run out of blessings in the midst of battle.
“Foolish N/A… you still possess this much power—”
“I’m sorry, but you’re going to die.”
“You… could it be that you’re a First-Class Knight N/A!?”
“That’s what I’m about to become.”
This was by no means Ruu’s revenge. It was not a matter of vengeance. This was a divine command given to Senri Sylvis, the Knight of the End.
The dragon, now missing half its body, began to regain its form through Holos’s power.
Senri gathered blessings once more, swinging his sword down with a strength that felt slightly more potent than usual.