17. Necromancer
"……Husband."
In the heart of the battlefield, Ju Cheong-ah stood silently embracing Ian. In a place where enemies could lunge at them any moment.
She wondered if he might feel uncomfortable… Supporting him carefully, she stood tall and unwavering, without the slightest tremor.
She hadn't yet received his Conductor ability of sensory exchange, so her eyes were blind…
Even though her senses had dulled over the long period since regaining her sight.
Right now, Ian—teetering on the brink of life and death—had reawakened in her that forgotten sharpness, the razor keen instincts of her blind days.
The crushing weight of knowing that one wrong move could mean her husband's death.
'……Never, absolutely never.'
No matter who, what, or how they came.
No danger would touch her husband. Not a single hair on his head.
She would allow nothing to come near.
Arrows flew toward her.
Cheong-ah raised her sword, channeling mana toward the direction they came from, and swung.
"Cumulus Clouds."
Whummm—!
Blue mana bloomed from Cheong-ah's sword like scattering flower petals.
The swift swing shaped the mana into a round barrier, deflecting the incoming arrows.
-Gwuooo—!!
Five undead soldiers thrust their spears at Ian in her arms.
"How dare you."
Cheong-ah twisted her body, gently pulling Ian aside—just enough to shield him, careful not to aggravate his wounds.
Then, with a flick of her wrist as if dusting off her hand, she scattered her sword toward the insolent undead soldiers aiming at her husband.
"Heavenly Net."
Blue mana extended from her sword, forming a net just as she named it.
A net of mana surging from the ground to the sky.
But it wasn't meant to capture.
Shraaaaa—!
Flesh tore away at its touch.
The undead soldiers' bodies shattered into hundreds of pieces along the net's lines.
-Gwu….
The undead crumbled.
More soldiers charged in their wake.
What the hell are Bella and Dina doing? Why do these bastards keep slipping through to target Husband?
It was just infuriating.
'……Husband mustn't get hurt.'
Of course, from Bella and Dina's perspective, it was somewhat unfair.
No matter how many they felled, unless they pulverized them like Cheong-ah did, the undead kept rising.
For Bella with her greatsword, that wasn't easy.
Her karambit sidearm was for stabbing vitals—not ideal against these tenacious undead.
Dina, meanwhile, was dismantling them one by one with mana-infused punches and kicks to ensure they stayed down.
But….
'Where are you hiding, you damned sorcerer?'
The rage and helplessness from back then, when Ian had been helplessly kidnapped.
When she'd nearly lost him to undead bait like this.
That bound Dina now.
While fighting undead, she strained to detect the necromantic mana controlling them.
These undead prioritized killing Ian above all.
Even with the women blocking, undead kept trickling toward Cheong-ah—it was hard to stop completely.
If she'd spared a glance around, Cheong-ah would have noticed and understood.
But Cheong-ah had zero attention for anyone else right now.
Her beloved husband teetered in agony, life hanging by a thread—how could she care about anything else?
"Husband, just hold on a little longer."
All her nerves focused first on Ian.
Second, on the enemies daring to target him.
"You filthy vermin."
She sliced the spearheads of charging foes, then cleaved them down.
Her movements weren't as fluid this time.
Too preoccupied with Ian.
Perhaps that's why—the undead rose again.
-Gwaaaaa—!!
The weight on her left shoulder.
She hadn't swung properly, mind on him.
But she couldn't set him down anywhere.
If she did, even briefly, a blind arrow might strike him.
Already critically wounded, she couldn't bear imagining it.
So Cheong-ah swung her sword once more.
At first, the undead had the upper hand, but now they were being pushed back.
Carol's brows furrowed at the sight.
She'd boasted confidently to the count to trust only her, but results were meager compared to her preparations.
Fortunately, excluding those three women, the main force was faring well.
The count's betrayal of Behena's retainers, combined with her Corpse Carnival necromancy.
The zombie horde was in full swing, stalling the Red Evil Mercenaries and Behena's remaining soldiers.
Half her goal achieved, but if those three weren't subdued and pushed back, it could flip anytime.
Oblivious or not to Carol's irritation, the count gratingly raised his voice beside her.
"Carol, what the hell is this? Your undead are getting pushed back! And that bastard I told you to kill no matter what—he's still alive…!"
"Shut it for a sec, Count. My head hurts too."
"You swore I'd only need to trust you, and if not for my plan—"
"……Hah."
Squelch—!
Carol's hand clamped his jaw.
Viscous, sticky dark purple mana writhed from her grip.
"Mmph, mmf…!?"
"Didn't I tell you to shut up, Count?"
Why don't nobles listen unless you make them?
"Was that too hard for you?"
Her eyes gleamed murderously, glaring.
The count frantically tried to shake his head.
No thoughts of insolence or arrogance—he'd risen by wits and instincts.
Survival instincts screamed now, drowning petty pride, urging apology.
But against her will, his thick head stayed locked in her slender arm's vise.
As if refusing to let it move—crunchhh…!
'What the hell….'
How from such a frail arm?
"You grin and nod along, so you think I'm a fucking idiot?"
Crackkk—.
Her grip tightened.
Excruciating pain twisted his face, head compressing.
"Gaaahhh—!!"
He screamed, but she didn't stop.
Her eyes impulsive with annoyance, resolved to kill—as if.
Squiiiish…!
She crushed his head, face caving like a soft peach squeezed in her fist.
Splaaaat…!
His head vanished in an instant, body slumping.
Her hand filled with gore, Carol's eyes returned to their languid haze.
"Oops…."
She tapped her forehead like it'd been a minor slip.
"Shouldn't have killed him… Now how do I explain to the boss?"
Her leader had plans for this pig in Durumil Kingdom.
Carol sighed, lips pouting.
As if the scolding mattered more than the life taken.
"Ugh, gonna get chewed out. What now?"
After a moment's thought, her face lit up.
"Right! Just turn the count into an undead too!"
Head? Sew it back with necromancy.
Grotesque? Slap on a helmet or mask.
Genius, as expected—not Black Gold Necromancer for nothing.
"Rise… from death!"
Dark purple mana from her hand seeped into the count's hefty corpse.
Then—crack, crick—.
Joints twisted unnaturally as he revived.
-Grooo….
"Perfect."
Now then….
"Ahem, ahem…."
Carol rubbed her throat, clearing it.
Her voice shifted to one eerily like Soboro Baekjak's.
"……Ah, yeah. Good."
In the count's voice, she flung open a window and bellowed toward Regina's tower.
Mimicking his speech perfectly.
"Regina! You damned bitch! Get down here now! Go cut that bastard's throat! How long you gonna just watch?!"
The order Regina most wanted to refuse.
"If you don't wanna see Jubi hurt beside you, get going!"
Laced with the threat she couldn't ignore.
"Go now!"
The words barely ended when a black shadow leaped from the tower's top—thud—to the ground.
Confirming Regina's descent, Carol smirked with a nasal hum.
"Alright, time for other prep."
Finally, inevitably.
The order she never wanted to hear came from the count.
Go down and kill Ian.
Or Jubi suffers.
"Sis?"
Regina stroked Jubi's head, smiling sadly.
"……Ua."
I'll be back.
Regina leaped from the tower.
Gravity pulled her body down in seconds.
Thud—light landing.
She kicked off the ground, shooting like an arrow from a bow.
Claaaang…!!
A sharp metallic clash halted her.
"……We finally meet."
Calm voice.
But laced with subtle killing intent.
Blind, yet Cheong-ah fixed a piercing gaze.
"You thieving stray cat."
"……Ua."