Queen of the Dead (1)
Renat's head separated from her body all too anticlimactically, tumbling across the floor.
“......”
The moment the Sa-ryong's breath poured out, Eunhyeon—shielded from its effects by Verdandi's blessing—had slipped behind Renat.
Renat's headless corpse crumpled to the ground, and Marius's body, cradled in her arms, fell with it.
“The Sa-ryong....”
Elenoa, utterly drained from barely blocking that single breath and slumped on the floor, murmured dazedly as she lifted her head.
The terrifying maw that had laid waste to everything around it was gone. The eyes that had blazed with dark crimson light had dimmed once more. The massive body hung limp, just as it had when it first emerged. Yet Elenoa couldn't relax.
“It... it won't stand up again, will it...?”
“That ancient dragon's corpse rose just now because this one forcibly summoned a fragment of its soul at the cost of her own. Even drawing on a human soul and every ounce of mana to unleash necromancy, fully controlling a dragon itself is impossible. At best, she could manage a minute.”
"I, Marius Holton! I offer my soul to recreate a portion of Her great feat! Accept my trial!"
But no one could deny that those sixty seconds had been the closest Elenoa had ever come to death.
“As I said, ordinary necromancy can't control the souls of mere beasts. They're little more than instinct-driven animals with scant intelligence. Dragons are different.”
They possess clear intellect and ego.
Thus, if one could resurrect and dominate a dragon's soul, commands could be issued to it.
But could an ordinary necromancer ever subjugate a dragon soul as a familiar? Absolutely not.
That was why Marius, sacrificing his life, soul, and everything he had, had summoned an ancient dragon's soul—only for it to be bound to human will for a humiliating minute.
“Can a human... really control a dragon's soul...?”
“The entire soul? Of course not. But if it's just a fragment of a soul with will, torn out and summoned—her necromancy can manage it. She has done it before.”
Eunhyeon kicked Marius's torso, sprawled over Renat's corpse, dispelling Elenoa's unease.
The three others shifted their gazes to the kicked body, all grimacing in disgust.
Marius's corpse was shriveled, drained of all nutrients—like bones wrapped in skin, a skeletal horror draped in human hide. Far worse than the victims drained by the succubus that had assaulted nobles in Fernin.
“Ghastly... Is this what a necromancer's end looks like?”
“No, this is what he chose. To forcibly awaken the ancient dragon and impose that ridiculous 'trial' on us, he offered every drop of his mana and soul.”
“Who is this 'Her'...? Someone you know...?”
Elenoa recalled Marius's mad grin toward Eunhyeon, his claim that Eunhyeon enjoyed Her favor—and his venomous hatred for the woman Eunhyeon had mentioned.
Puuk.
Instead of answering, Eunhyeon raised his sword and began slicing Renat's corpse—piercing the chest, severing limbs.
Elenoa cried out in shock.
“Wh-what are you doing?!”
She wasn't trying to stop him, but the obsessive frenzy reminded her of a madman.
“She's not dead yet.”
“Pardon...?”
“This thing. It's still alive.”
“What do you—”
[......! My child!]
Verdandi sensed the change first.
The necromantic energy, fading within the ancient dragon's corpse, erupted and surged toward Eunhyeon.
Focused on dismembering Renat, Eunhyeon reacted to Verdandi's urgent cry, leaping back to distance himself from the corpse and the energy.
“...As expected.”
“That thing...”
What the hell is it?
Riod wasn't the only one wondering—Illyana and Elenoa felt the same.
Fine black particles, like exquisite sand, swirled in a small cloud around Renat.
Each speck seemed possessed of will, the necromantic energy coiling like a massive serpent.
It gathered Renat's severed flesh and chunks, then floated upward toward the ancient dragon's severed head.
The three, catching up late, joined Eunhyeon. Illyana, sensing the ominous aura, frowned and asked.
“Hyeon, do you know what that is...?”
“That woman has arrived.”
“That woman?”
“The craziest human I've ever met in this world. Not that she's human anymore.”
Before they could press further, the black aura of death coalesced into a form.
Silver hair longer and denser than Eunhyeon's, falling to her waist. Ruby-like eyes met his, igniting contempt in his gaze.
“Haa...”
Reading the emotion in his eyes, the silver-haired woman smiled seductively, crossing her legs with delight.
She lounged as if on her own bed, clad only in sheer white negligee that barely veiled her ample breasts. Her slender waist and navel gleamed translucently erotic through the fabric.
Crossing her legs emphasized her bare, pale thighs in a bewitching display. Anyone unaware of her identity would be captivated.
From thigh to calf, ankle, and toes—an exquisite vista to ensnare any man's heart. Yet Eunhyeon gripped his swords tighter, poised to charge.
Perched atop the ancient dragon's corpse, legs crossed, arm propped on its horn, chin in hand—Media finally spoke.
“Hehe, it's been so long. Three hundred years?”
“...!”
The specific timeframe stunned everyone but Eunhyeon.
They knew he didn't age, but not his exact years.
“I clearly destroyed your heart and confirmed your death.”
“Yeah, that's right. You killed me. Haa... Do you know how adorable your face was back then?”
“I don't care about your impressions. How are you here?”
“One of my devoted children sacrificed her soul to use my necromancy. I told her: if you ever find him, use my power. So I rode that necromantic wave triggered by her soul.”
“How did you resurrect?”
“Still so cold after three hundred years? Fine, I can wait forever. Curious how I survived? Simple: abandon the flesh bound by time's limits! When you killed me, Hyeon, I was finally freed from this body.”
“...?”
Elenoa's face twisted in confusion, unable to follow.
Discarding the body to revive? Her mind couldn't grasp it.
“You know about my 'Soul Binding' necromancy, right, Hyeon?”
“......”
Eunhyeon didn't reply, but he knew all of Media's necromancy.
Soul Binding was a curse of sorts.
Once cast, upon the target's death, their soul bound to the necromancer—trapped in eternal torment, unable to pass on. A vile spell.
Media smiled wickedly, absorbing his fury, and continued.
“I cast 'Soul Binding' on myself. When I died, my soul bound to me—anchoring it here, preventing ascension! Hehehe! And you, Hyeon, made it possible. I'm so thrilled.”
Each gleeful word burrowed into Eunhyeon's mind, his sword-grip trembling, veins bulging on his arms.
This was his mistake.
He had to admit it.
But could he have foreseen her twisting her soul not for oblivion, but full awakening as a death spirit?
Who knows.
But failing to anticipate her return was a grave error.
“I'm so happy we're together again.”
“Shut up.”
“Only I can understand you.”
“Shut your mouth.”
“Only I can be by your side.”
“Be quiet!”
“You're mine.”
Media showered him with infinite love; he returned infinite loathing and murderous intent.
Each word fueled his rage beyond control.
[My child.]
“Then I'll kill you again. Right now.”
[My child!]
Verdandi's voice barely registered in his mind now.
His reason shattered; his body launched like a bullet, sword slashing at her.
[Siete Swordmastery]
[White Light Flash]
⟨ White Light Flash ⟩
The same white flash that cleaved Renat grazed Media's neck—but it sliced only air. Eunhyeon's brow twitched at the empty sensation.
Reason returned: Media was a spirit body of necromantic energy, lacking flesh.
“Haa... so cool.”
Unfazed by the strike, Media rose into the air, drifting to Eunhyeon to caress his cheek.
As a spirit, she knew she couldn't touch his physical form.
Yet the urge overwhelmed her as she approached.
Just as her hand neared his cheek—
Pajijik!
“Hm...?”
Sparks erupted, scorching her ethereal fingers. Media flinched, halting.
[Do not touch my child!]
Inaudible to others, Verdandi's cry empowered the Goddess's Blessing enveloping Eunhyeon, rejecting Media's approach.
“This is...”
Realizing something beyond Eunhyeon's will protected him, Media's brow furrowed.
“Hyeon is loved by something strange again?”
A rich irony from the most alien being there.
“And...”
Sruruk.
Her necromantic form dissolved into mist, reforming behind Illyana.
She embraced Illyana silently, fingers trailing slowly up her lower abdomen, navel, waist, breasts—then pressing her face to Illyana's nape.
“Snuuup.”
“Eut...!”
The sensual caress and sniffing sent chills racing over Illyana's skin.
How a mere spirit could touch her physically—no time to ponder. Media's ambush was too sudden.
“Why does a strange woman smell like my man?”