CHAPTER: 1
TITLE: Prologue
“Why am I alive?”
One day, the thought suddenly struck Berk.
Berk, the Necromancer King.
The man who had reached the pinnacle of necromancy.
A man who had obtained power greater than anyone else, not just among Necromancers, but across the entire continent and its archipelagos.
A natural prodigy of mana, one who had reached a level of mastery in Magic Circles no one else had ever touched.
That was Berk, the Necromancer King.
However…
‘So what.’
Necromancer King or whatever else—Berk honestly couldn't care less what the insignificant masses called him.
Money, fame?
To Berk, those were things he could obtain anytime, in any amount.
So, he had no interest in them either.
A life of aimless wandering, despite being able to obtain anything he desired.
That was Berk’s life.
‘Seriously, why am I even living?’
Suddenly, Berk realized that even before he became the Necromancer King, “his life had never really had a purpose”
It felt like a crucial piece of a puzzle was missing.
Like he had forgotten something incredibly important.
Annoyingly, it felt as if a cold hole had been punched through a corner of his heart.
In any case, one thing was certain.
An irritating question had taken root in Berk’s mind.
‘Why do I live?’
Despite his profound knowledge and understanding of Magic Circles and mana itself, greater than anyone else in the world, Berk could not answer this single question.
As he continued to ponder this, Berk learned of a certain legend.
It was the legend of the five great artifacts sleeping within the continent.
He who obtains the five artifacts.
Shall gain the omnipotence to orchestrate fate.
And shall reach the truth.
From that day on, the legend, those mere three lines, became embedded in Berk’s mind.
‘The truth?’...
Yes.
It began as a small curiosity.
It felt like a key that could banish the annoying question of ‘Why am I alive?’ from his head.
It felt like a clue that would help him remember that important, forgotten memory.
And so, Berk broke his long silence and emerged into the world.
A year later.
Two rumors began to circulate throughout the world.
The rumors spread across vast forests and dizzying canyons, over lands cracked by lava and lands covered in snow and ice.
Rumor one.
The Necromancer King, Berk, has begun to gather the artifacts.
Rumor two.
The Demon King, a being thought to exist only in legend, has descended.
Several years passed. Neither turned out to be a baseless rumor.
~~~
Chapter 1
What should have lived, died, and what should have died, lived.
The Necromancer King, ‘Berk,’ was one who should have lived.
A sinister power. The one who stood at the apex, the Necromancer King. He was called an unkillable being.
A rookie Necromancer who had appeared like a comet over twenty years ago at a young age. It did not take him long to earn the name Necromancer King.
Despite his relatively young age of thirty, Berk, who had reached the pinnacle of necromancy, proudly stood at the forefront of the Empire’s subjugation forces.
The goal of the subjugation was singular.
The Demon King.
Berk had proven his reputation with his skills alone.
A reputation as a ‘demonic genius.’
And now, that same man was dying a futile death.
Though, strictly speaking, he wasn't dead just yet.
Cough
Crimson blood poured endlessly from the hole traitors had pierced through his stomach.
Drip-Drip
The blood gathered at the corners of Berk’s mouth fell to the floor.
It was a crimson period.
The period at the end of the story of a man who once had more than enough power to command the world.
“Stay with me.”
Meanwhile, there was someone by Berk’s side, desperately trying to save him.
A white-haired priest.
He wore a pure white priest’s robe, now stained with blood.
“Tsk. How ridiculous.”
Leaning against the owner of the priest’s robe, Berk chuckled.
“To be in this state in front of a priest, and even receive treatment. What a disgrace.”
“Don’t laugh, Berk. You’ll open your wounds.”
“Sorry to break it to you, but that hardly matters now, old man Pael.”
“Quiet. Don’t say another word. Just focus on the wound.”
“Damn it.”
Berk smirked.
“...I can’t focus.”
His mana had long since slipped from his control.
In the first place, he no longer had a whole body to contain mana, nor any more mana to draw upon.
“Berk. What happened to the Demon King?”
“I took care of him.”
Pael, a hero of the allied forces and a member of the Holy Union, looked up at the sky and slowly closed his eyes.
“It’s all over...”
After muttering as if in a brief prayer, Pael bowed his head to Berk with respect.
“Berk, I offer you my sincerest respect...”
“To hell with respect.” Berk chuckled.
“It doesn’t change the fact that I’m in this state.” He smiled bitterly.
“After I caught the Demon King, I wanted to use necromancy to summon his soul and make him shine my shoes. Then I’d have him run errands for tea...” He continued with a smirk.
“I wanted to throw the cup in his face and ask him why it tasted like shit. I just wanted to try it once.”
“...Yes. You’re just the kind of man who could do that.”
And the kind of man who definitely would.
Pael’s voice trailed off gloomily.
Drip-drip
A few more drops of blood fell from Berk’s mouth.
‘What a shame...’
Berk thought to himself.
The reason he had joined the subjugation was because of the ‘final artifact’ the emperor had promised him.
Collecting the five great artifacts of the continent had been the Necromancer King’s long-held wish.
‘Truth, omnipotence... I was quite curious about it all.’
Silence fell. The dying and the one trying to save him both had to accept it now.
The outcome of this futile treatment.
“...Will you repent?”
“Bullshit. I won’t.”
Berk smiled wryly.
“Instead, before I kick the bucket, I’ll give you a piece of good information as payment for the treatment. Before you got here, those traitorous bastards took my artifacts and fled.”
The clash with the Demon King. It had been a battle that gouged out the earth and ground down mountain ranges.
At the end of the fierce, bloody struggle, Berk had burned all his mana to achieve victory against the Demon King, who was said to be an immortal being.
The problem, however, came afterward.
The leaders of the Necromancer Union had betrayed the weakened Berk.
The four artifacts that had made Berk the Necromancer King he was today.
Those artifacts had fallen into the hands of the traitors.
“I am the only one who knows how to properly draw out the power of the artifacts...”
“Still… be careful. If those bastards who betrayed me recover their strength and one day learn to use the artifacts’s powers properly...”
Berk looked straight at Pael.
“There will be a bloodbath. You’d do well not to ignore my warning, old man. This is my last will and testament, and my final gift to you for trying to help me.”
Pael bowed his head.
“A last will...”
His hands were still glowing white with holy magic.
But he knew.
The mana a priest used, ‘Baekgwang,’ was fundamentally incompatible with a Necromancer.
•Baekgwang: Essentially “white magic”•
Therefore, completely healing his wounds was an impossible task from the start. No matter how excellent the healing magic used.
The dying man let out a faint laugh.
“Hey. I’m on my way out. Can you get rid of that light? It stings.”
“Alright. I understand.”
Pael withdrew his hands, which had been emitting the white light.
After catching his breath for a moment, Pael slowly opened his mouth.
“Berk. You are an enemy of the Holy Union. But I know… I have seen your true self as a comrade-in-arms.”
The world claimed the Necromancer King was gathering artifacts to overturn the world.
“I know now that isn’t true. No, I believe it. Therefore, I will pay my respects to your death, Berk.” Pael reverently knelt on one knee.
“Oh, Necromancer King. If you act with righteousness and follow a code of honor, what does it matter what kind of clothes you wear?”
He clasped his hands together.
“You were a man who knelt in secret before a burned-down village. A warrior who silently raged at the deaths of the innocent and punished injustice. You were one who never turned away from those in need of help. To such a man, I pay my respects.”
“...Old man.”
Berk chuckled.
“Your eyes are failing you.”
Pael pressed his lips together.
“Do you have any other last words, Necromancer King?”
“Hmm.”
Berk’s gaze fixed on the crimson-stained sky.
“I’d like a cup of strong black tea. A very strong one.”
With a faint smile, the Necromancer King died. On the final day of the first seven-year war against the Demon King.
~~~
Clatter, clatter...
‘What is this?’
The smell of damp hay.
A weary body.
His eyelids were heavy.
‘This place called hell isn’t so bad, is it?’
Just as he was thinking that,
Thump
The cart shook violently.
Only then did the things before his eyes slowly come into focus.
Children in rags. And the cart carrying them.
No…A prison.
Hee-heeeigh!
A gaunt horse neighed fiercely.
Looking around, he saw two similar carts, one in front and one behind.
‘What is all this?’
Berk, or rather, Berk’s consciousness, quietly tried to move his own hand.
What he saw was a small, gaunt hand.
It belonged to a young boy.
“Are you an undead, by any chance?”
One of the children huddled together across from him asked.
The boy’s eyes were wide open. As if he had seen a ghost.
“What did you say?”
At Berk’s irritated question, the children began to whisper among themselves.
“He’s not an undead. Didn’t Giselle say she was going to try and heal him in secret? The healing must have worked.”
“But Giselle was also the one who said it seemed too late.”
“That’s right. She definitely said he was dead, but he woke up again. Doesn’t that make him an undead?”
‘What the hell. If you’re going to ask a question, you should answer me.’
The little brats were annoyingly chirping away.
Just as a wave of irritation was about to wash over him,
‘Ugh.’
Berk pressed his temples firmly.
‘A headache...’
As his consciousness returned, his senses began to awaken one by one.
An overwhelming hunger and fatigue soon followed.
“Hey.”
A girl with blue eyes looked at Berk.
The girl's face was covered in dirt and grime.
But her eyes, blue as a lake, shone with intelligence like sapphires in the mud.
“How can this be?”
Huddled among the other crouching children, the girl stared intently at Berk.
“You were definitely dead.”
‘She's right. I was definitely dead. What is all this?’
“Where am I?”
Berk scanned his surroundings.
‘First, I need to figure out what's going on–’
Kwang!
“Shut your mouth!”
A mace struck the cage violently.Since the cage was made of wood, the sound wasn't that loud.
But it was enough to frighten the young children.
“……”
And it was more than enough to stoke Berk's fury.
The bandit with the filthy beard growled.
“You little brats. Make another sound, and you'll be on the ropes.”
‘Ropes?’
Following the terrified children's gazes, Berk looked to the side.
The back of the cart.
Thick, old-looking ropes were tied there.
Three children were tied to those ropes.
Being dragged through the muddy ground.
“……”
The faces of the children, exhausted from crying, were drained of all color, and their wrists, bound and dragged, were covered in dark bruises.
‘This is fucked up.’
In his past, Berk had seen endless bloodshed.
Whether it was the Holy Union or the Necromancer Union, he had never hesitated to use violence when necessary.
But Berk strictly wielded his power according to his own code.
If they pick a fight, I crush them.
Favors can be forgotten, but grudges are repaid more than twofold.
Fists are fast–talk is tedious and pedantic.
And so on….
This was all part of Berk's creed, his beautiful code of conduct.
The important thing was that violence against the innocent and weak had no place in his book, and he would absolutely never lay a hand on a child.
“Krk”
Just as he was unconsciously grinding his teeth.
“Shhh”
The girl made a quiet hushing sound.
‘What was her name? Ah, right. Giselle, was it?’
“Hey. Lower your eyes… If you get dragged out again, you’ll really die this time.”
Only then did Berk realize his gaze had turned murderous.
If he hadn't had his back to the man with the mace, his expression would have surely been read.
‘Hmm. What should I do?’
Berk's eyes shifted coldly.
He had no intention of getting dragged out and beaten for nothing.
More importantly, he had no intention of staying cooped up with his tail between his legs either.
To assess the situation, Berk first examined his own body.
Bruised wrists, ruined soles, and a stomach where ribs showed through torn skin.
He was starting to get the picture.
‘So this body was dragged around like those other children? Dragged by the cart while starving, and in the end, couldn't take it anymore.’
As his senses returned, he felt a heavy fatigue and pain throughout his body.
Berk knew instinctively.
‘This boy had died.’
Just as the children had murmured earlier.
‘And my soul has possessed this body.’
C-crack
Having grasped the situation, Berk tilted his neck slightly.
‘Hmm.’
The reason for the possession was still unknown.
But now that it was certain he had possessed this body, all he had to do was live a second life in it.
Berk was not foolish enough to waste a given opportunity. Quite the opposite, in fact.
‘Crush the traitors and reclaim my lost artifacts. Even the final artifact I failed to obtain. And then, I will grasp the truth.’
Berk's eyes gleamed.
A life spent wandering without purpose.
In that tedious life, for the first time in a very long while, a new goal had emerged.
‘But to do that… I have to get out of this damn place first.’
Berk closed his eyes.
‘Alright. Let's check my mana.’
The genius-like sense for mana he possessed in his past life.
The absolute mastery of Magic Circles he had attained as the Necromancer King.
Feeling that all those senses and enlightenments were intact, the man once called the Necromancer King gave a chilling smile.
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