Advanced Necromancy
Before long, Radian returned from his scouting run.
But there was something familiar dangling from his hand.
"Saintess! On my way back, I discovered a suspicious undead."
"...What is that?"
No way. It couldn't be.
While I stared blankly, Radian proudly set down a half-shattered skeleton before me. Ribs torn away, limbs twisted at wrong angles—a sorry sight. And from its chest cavity, a faint black aura seeped out.
It was my entire fortune.
"It tried to flee, so I caught it, but strangely, it did not seem like an ordinary skeleton..."
Radian explained—and drove his fist down in the same breath.
CRACK—!
"Ah! Wait—!"
And the crystal holding my condensed death energy shattered into pieces.
WHUUUUM—!
The compressed death energy detonated, surging outward in every direction. Black mist swallowed the sky, and a wave of death energy powerful enough to shake the very earth scattered across the entire wasteland.
"......"
Centuries. I had spent centuries scouring battlefields to scrape together every last bit of it. If I'd known this would happen, I should have just buried it in the ground.
Radian stared at the spreading death energy, his face frozen in astonishment.
"To entrust death energy this immense... to a mere skeleton..."
Then he slowly clenched his fist.
"Mordiggian. Just how mighty a being are you...?"
I watched in silence as Radian ranted to himself.
Yes. You, of all people—I will kill you. By any means necessary. However long it takes to find a way, I will kill you with my own two hands.
Flat broke, I spent the night staring at the ceiling. Morning arrived all the same.
And just as we'd discussed the day before, the moment we crossed the border, the air changed completely. The characteristic damp, heavy miasma of the Demon Realm vanished, and with every breath, a hollow emptiness filled my lungs.
Ah, this disgusting sensation. Has it really been a hundred years? Clear. Light. Clean to the point of being repulsive.
Radian's reaction was the exact opposite of mine. The instant he crossed the border, he dropped to one knee and bowed his head.
"O Goddess... at last, I have returned to this land."
I stood beside him and silently surveyed our surroundings.
It was not a view that moved anyone to tears. The border between the Demon Realm and the Human Realm was more makeshift than I'd expected—nothing but desolate no man's land stretching on without end. War and calamity had swept through so many times that no one remained. Withered grass, the rubble of half-collapsed stone structures, old cart wheels and rusted spearheads scattered everywhere. Some of this wreckage was probably my handiwork.
Radian walked forward slowly, staying alert to everything around us. He was far more cautious here than he had been in the Demon Realm. Of course he was tense—even if this was the homeland he'd returned to after a century, to the Radian of now it might as well have been a world he'd never seen.
And so we walked through the no man's land for about half a day. The sun hung high, its light a dazzling white—nothing like the crimson sky of the Demon Realm. And at last, a city wall came into view in the distance. Not tall, but a sturdy stone barrier. Banners fluttered above the ramparts, and armed figures moved across the watchtowers. A city of humans.
Radian's expression brightened noticeably.
"Do you see it? That is a city of humans. We have finally arrived somewhere safe."
I gazed at the wall and thought to myself: That place might be far more dangerous than the Demon Realm. Too many people. Too many watching eyes. I couldn't raise a single corpse here, and one slip-up would be the end of everything.
For all my tension, getting into the city turned out to be absurdly easy. There wasn't even the usual checkpoint.
"...Is this really okay?"
The words slipped out before I could stop them, and Radian turned to look at me.
"Did you say something, Saintess?"
"It's nothing."
I glanced back over my shoulder. Two guards stood at the city gate. One was nodding off, and the other was chatting up a passing merchant. A demon had strolled right through the gate, and neither of them so much as glanced our way.
Sure, I had a robe pulled over my head, but still—was nobody even slightly curious? ...Humans have really let themselves go in the last hundred years. I know there's a barrier between us and the Demon Realm, but even from the enemy's perspective, this is ridiculous. Not that I'm complaining about the easy entry.
The city was livelier than I'd expected. Carts rumbled through the streets, and merchants bawled out their wares. The smell of baking bread mingled with spices and livestock, brushing past my nose. Children darted through the alleys, and the clang of the blacksmith's hammer rang out without pause. People here, people there, people everywhere I looked.
I hunched my shoulders without meaning to.
Fortunately, Radian didn't head into the crowded market district. He scanned the area briefly, then turned without hesitation toward the quieter hillside.
"We should head to the church first."
He said it in a low voice.
The church. Honestly, not my idea of a good time, but I had no grounds to argue. From his perspective, it was the most natural choice in the world. He'd come back to life after a century, and the Saintess who'd resurrected him was right beside him. What could be more natural than going to the church?
I nodded meekly.
"Of course."
The church atop the hill was an old stone building. It had clearly survived more than one war—patches of mismatched stone marked the outer walls, and a long crack still split the bell tower. The moment we pushed open the door, cool air and the faint scent of incense drifted past.
And at the same time—
"Ugh!"
My skin prickled, ever so faintly. I fought to keep my face from hardening.
A church really is a church, I suppose. It wasn't a particularly potent divine presence—just the faint residual aura of a consecrated space. I wasn't about to burst into flames, but this wasn't a place I wanted to linger.
A funeral appeared to be underway. A single coffin draped in black cloth sat at the center of the hall, with a handful of mourners bowed in prayer around it.
Bad timing. Not that I'd picked it, of course.
The priest who had been praying at the center of the hall lifted her head and turned toward us. Long, tapered ears, blonde hair shot through with silver. An elf.
The instant her gaze landed on Radian, it wavered.
"...You."
The priest rose slowly, murmuring.
"It can't be."
Radian said nothing. He only inclined his head slightly.
The priest took a few steps forward, then stopped. In her eyes was not the joy of reuniting with a hero lost for nearly a century, but wariness and fear.
"No. It cannot be. Radian perished alongside the Demon King."
I held my breath beside him. Right. That's the normal reaction. A hero who died a hundred years ago walks back in alive—who on earth would believe that?
The priest glared at Radian for a long moment, then shifted her gaze to me. Our eyes met.
"And you, standing at his side... You carry the scent of a demon. Faint, very faint... but you cannot hide it."
Damn it. Elf ears. Of course.
"Just wait—"
Radian began, but the priest cut him off immediately.
"Do not come any closer."
A faint light gathered at the priest's fingertips. Divine power.
I took a step back on reflex. That stuff hurts.
"A demon wearing the hero's form..."
The priest's face hardened.
"Or is this necromancy, puppeting his corpse?"
Huh. She got it about half right. I did use his corpse. Though calling it necromancy is a stretch, given that I can't control him at all.
The priest slowly raised her hand.
"I will call the guard. You two..."
...I'm screwed.
My mind kicked into overdrive. At this rate, I was going to be caught red-handed. What would they do to me if they dragged me off? Burned at the stake? Or beheaded and put on display? Whichever way it went, if my identity came to light, I wasn't getting a clean death.
Should I kill her? But even if I took out the priest and ran, they'd catch me soon enough. And the moment I tried anything, that damned hero would step in to block me.
Cornered with no way out, my mind scrambling for an escape—then my eyes landed on the coffin at the center of the church, and an idea struck me.
Honestly, I couldn't say whether it was a good idea. It felt enormously risky, and I had a strong suspicion it would become a colossal headache later. But it beat losing my head right here and now.
The priest's eyes went wide.
"You! What are you doing to the deceased—!"
Too late. I knelt beside the coffin and pressed my palms together as if in prayer. It wasn't strictly necessary, but if I was going to put on a show, I might as well commit.
With my death energy siphoned off, my body was running on empty—but one thing still remained inside me. The power that every living being carries. The wellspring that sustains life itself. Back in my previous life—ages ago, really—I remember reading martial arts novels that called this kind of thing innate true qi.
The body in the coffin hadn't been dead long. Whether disease or sudden accident, decomposition hadn't yet set in. At this stage, even the current me could manage it.
I drew a deep breath. Then I pinched off a sliver of my own life force and pushed it into the coffin.
Something deep in my chest throbbed hard. Carving into my own vitality always feels filthy.
A moment later, a dull thud came from inside the coffin, and the lid began to shift.
"Khh...! Haah..."
A middle-aged man jackknifed upright, coughing violently. Color crept back into his ashen face, and his clouded eyes flickered before finally finding focus.
"Wh-where am I...?"
The woman who'd been weeping beside the coffin went rigid, her handkerchief slipping from her fingers.
"Honey...?"
Her voice trembled. The man in the coffin turned his head slowly.
"...Dear?"
"H-honey...!"
The woman cried out—a sound halfway between a scream and a sob. Then she threw herself at the coffin.
"W-wait... why are you crying? I..."
"You died!"
"I... what?"
The man looked utterly lost.
The priest staggered back a step. The divine power at her fingertips flickered. But a moment later, she gritted her teeth and steadied herself.
"...No."
The priest murmured under her breath and approached the coffin.
"I cannot draw conclusions yet."
Elf ears, all right. Sharper than I gave her credit for.
I watched with a flicker of unease. The priest knelt before the revived man.
"Forgive the intrusion."
"Huh? Oh, yes, of course..."
The man, still not entirely clear on why he'd been lying in a coffin, nodded blankly. The priest took his wrist first and checked his pulse in silence for a long while.
"......"
Her expression tightened almost imperceptibly. Next she held a hand before his nose to confirm his breathing, lifted his eyelid to examine his pupils, and pressed his skin before pulling away.
"Body temperature is normal..."
I caught her murmuring to herself. Apparently that wasn't enough, because she turned to inspect the coffin itself. The cloth that had wrapped the body, the marks left on his skin. She even checked inside his mouth and under his fingernails.
Thorough, isn't she. What is there left to look at? It was starting to make me nervous.
But the priest still didn't seem convinced.
"Please hold still."
A faint golden glow spread across her palm.
I flinched. Divine power. To a demon like me, just looking at it made my skin crawl. I nearly recoiled on instinct but managed to hold my ground. She wasn't aiming it at me.
The priest placed her glowing hand on the man's forehead and began to recite a prayer.
"O sacred light, strip away all falsehood and reveal only truth."
Golden light spread slowly across the man's body.
I narrowed my eyes. Probably a diagnostic rite for detecting necromancy. If he were undead, traces of animating death energy or the caster's mana would linger in his body. If he were possessed, there'd be an unnatural seam between flesh and soul. If it were a curse or an illusion, something would react the instant divine power touched it.
But nothing happened.
Of course it didn't. I'd spent years developing this technique. If a little holy light could expose it, I would never have attempted it in the first place.
The man merely squinted.
"That's warm..."
That was all.
Watching this, the priest rose unsteadily to her feet. The divine power at her fingertips vanished without a trace.
"...O Goddess."
With trembling fingers, the priest traced the holy sign over her chest. Then slowly—very slowly—she bowed her head.
"This is... resurrection. A true miracle. No demon could counterfeit this."
The priest looked at Radian again. This time, her eyes held not suspicion but awe.
"Radian. It is true. You have returned to us alive."
Then she knelt before me.
"Saintess. Please forgive me. Forgive my foolishness in failing to recognize the Goddess's will."
The priest pressed her forehead to the floor and offered up a prayer.
Watching her, I sighed inwardly.
I've made this way too big.