Limits of the Undead Horde
“Grrrrr……”
A sound no human throat could produce echoed through the pit.
The corpses, reanimated by the power of Necromancy, glared with feral eyes, awaiting only their master's command.
Let's see... about twenty of them, huh.
Yoahim had raised exactly twenty skeletons with his Necromancy skill. Thanks to the skill's increased level, the bodies rotted away rapidly, leaving only bones behind. These skeletons looked far sturdier than before.
Even with mana to spare, he'd only managed twenty, suggesting that was the current limit for skeletons in one go. Considering he'd barely managed two when he met Emily, this was a massive leap.
Twenty skeletons. Now for the others...
Yoahim could summon three types of undead: skeletons, zombies, and ghouls. Zombies were slow but tough, enduring hits well. Ghouls were faster and more aggressive but not as durable. Each had clear pros and cons, so he needed to test their summon limits too.
“Dismiss.”
He muttered softly, and the twenty skeletons collapsed limply.
Yoahim activated Necromancy once more.
“Rise!”
Crack!
Dull sounds rang out as long-stiffened bones stirred back to life. Zombies and ghouls staggered up from the corpses— the bulky, sluggish ones were zombies; the ones with razor claws and beastly fangs were ghouls.
About five each, huh.
Yoahim felt his mana hit empty. More investment in Intellect might've allowed more, but he wasn't a necromancer—he was a Dark Knight. Sure, he could command undead, but in the end, he'd clash directly with enemies. Long-term, Intellect might pay off, but right now, Strength and Vitality mattered more.
“Shortcomings in stats? Just get stronger to make up for 'em.”
Drained of mana, Yoahim felt a wave of dizziness. His foot caught, nearly toppling him, but a zombie grunted and steadied him with its bulk.
“Sturdy. Real sturdy.”
Twenty skeletons, five zombies, five ghouls. Thirty in total. More than enough—overkill, even. Of course, it required corpses and worked best away from prying eyes, but under the right conditions, Yoahim could handle a lot solo.
If he'd been a necromancer, he could've raided a village with this horde, torched it, and bolstered his ranks. That was the fastest way to level Necromancy—use it often, and it grew. Keep at it, and the army swells, strong enough to topple a castle solo. Claim that as a base, expand the forces further...
“Necromancer does sound cooler than Dark Knight.”
Yoahim had leveled a necromancer once, before deleting it for slot space. In-game limits capped summons, but reality had no such chains. If he'd kept it, that character might've conquered the world with thousands of undead.
“Good thing I deleted it. Otherwise, war would've broken out right away.”
Yoahim chuckled to himself, then paused.
Wait, did I delete it? Or restore it later?
Memory fuzzy. He shook his head.
Lots more I can do now.
Dark Knight's robust body, artifact-granted magic, and now Necromancy. He was beyond a sub-character—an all-rounder. No heal skill? Just don't get hit. True support eliminates threats at the source. Kill first, win.
Haellagos should hook me up with more power.
The demon lord Haellagos had promised strength if Yoahim sought him out. This was just from an avatar—what would the real deal grant? Higher Necromancy? Potent black magic? Enhanced body? Any would make him stronger.
Yoahim had no intent to serve or spark war, but free power? No reason to refuse. Betray later if needed—grab the goods first.
To do that, get stronger.
He needed enough power that Haellagos couldn't dismiss him. No such thing as free gifts, especially from demons. They might trick him into paying up. Level up, gain more strength to counter it.
Sixty should do it.
Haellagos was level 150—weaker than Lilith or Bellrallion, but untouchable for Yoahim now. At 60, he couldn't win, but escape? Viable.
“Alright, time to head back and crash.”
Confirming his capabilities was key. Humming contentedly after gauging his Necromancy, Yoahim climbed out of the pit.
“Wandered all day—exhausted.”
Yawning hugely, he returned to the mercenary guild and headed upstairs. Opening the door to Leon and Sasha's room revealed them already gearless, in simple garb, inspecting weapons.
Slim at a glance, but stripped of cloaks and armor, both were ripped. Leon's thighs screamed agility; Sasha's sleeveless top showed off solid upper-body muscle, her smooth-yet-firm forearms flexing with each move.
Yoahim blurted, “Sasha, damn, those muscles.”
More than mine, even.
His own build was customized stats, not honed. Hers looked healthier, more appealing.
Sasha grinned sheepishly. “Archery takes more strength than you'd think. Gotta train or you tire fast.”
“Makes sense. Never shot a bow myself, but impressive. Can see the effort.”
“Th-thanks, Apostle.”
Sasha smiled bashfully.
“Apostle, why no praise for my muscles? I trained hard too.”
Leon hiked up his pant leg, flexing his thick thigh. Muscles bulged everywhere—not exactly a thrilling sight.
“Guy muscles? What's to praise?”
“Harsh. I'm hurt, Apostle.”
Hurt? Leon's face was stone-cold neutral, voice flat—no tells.
“Cut the crap and sleep early. Mage tower tomorrow morning.”
“Got it, Apostle.”
They finished checks and prepped for bed. Before lights out, Sasha said, “Apostle, only two beds—I'll take the floor.”
“Nah, no need. This is your room. I'll floor it.”
“No way, Apostle! Can't let you sleep on the ground. I'll do it!”
“I'm fine, really.”
As Sasha and Yoahim bickered, Leon cut in. “Then Apostle and I share a bed. Problem solved?”
“...You nuts?”
“Apostle, why so cold to me? Discrimination?”
“Not discrimination—you're talking nonsense. Fine, I'll take the floor.”
“Apostle!”
Sasha yelped; Yoahim put on a stern face.
“This is an order as Kakali's Apostle. You two take the beds. Got it?”
“Hmm, an order? Can't argue. We'll take the beds.”
“...Understood, Apostle.”
Sasha pouted but nodded. Yoahim grinned, using his bag as pillow, cloak as blanket, and lay down.
“Night.”
“Night, Apostle.”
“See you at dawn.”
Leon doused the lamp; darkness filled the room. Yoahim drifted off fast.
No visit tonight.
He'd offered sacrifice, expected Kakali, but nothing. Oh well.
Yoahim closed his eyes in the dream, consciousness sinking deeper.
“Apostle, morning. Rise.”
Felt like no time passed, yet dawn already. Yoahim saw Leon and Sasha geared up, waiting.
“What, you guys done already?”
“Dark elves rise early. Prepped at first light.”
“Too early...”
Dark elves were busier than expected. Yawning, Yoahim rushed his prep: armor, cloak, pack. Done, they left the room.
“Oh, Yoahim. Off already? Your new badge is ready.”
The reception guy from yesterday waved him over. Yoahim took the fresh mercenary badge, inspecting it. Steel grade meant steel material, not bronze.
Silver grade gets silver? Diamond gets diamond? Nah, probably not.
He'd ask Leon or Sasha later.
“Alright, to the mage tower.”
Yoahim led; the trio headed out.
“……”
And trailing them, eyes fixed intently, was a watcher.