Chapter 1
***
There was no romance in the life of a baron's heir.
A rural territory in the periphery, so remote its existence was questionable to those in the central regions.
Under a cloudless sky, the windmills of the mills spun vigorously, and cows and goats grazed in the vast pastures.
Thwack. Thwack.
Across the way, in the forest, the village men were busy logging.
Boisterous laughter carried on the wind, likely triggered by another one of Robert's good-natured jokes.
The days in this small territory were the very definition of a peaceful, slow life.
Even so, Simon was quite content with his life here.
"Simon, what do you think is the most important virtue a lord should possess?"
Lost in thought for a moment, Simon's father, Richard, who was walking beside him, posed the question.
Startled by the sudden inquiry, Simon quickly racked his brain.
"Um...tolerance? Perhaps."
Richard smiled warmly.
"Not a bad answer."
"Then what's a good answer?"
Richard slowly raised his arm and placed his hand on his chest.
"A passionate heart."
Simon blinked at the unexpected response.
"...What?"
"Just as the leaves change their clothes with each season, the virtues required of a lord also change according to the situation."
Richard smiled, gently stroking Simon's hair.
"A lord must be able to be a friend, a parent, even a villain. But a lord who treats people with a passionate heart gains the power to convey sincerity in any situation. That's the bond between lord and vassal."
"My Lord!"
Richard and Simon turned their heads.
Several grown men were carrying a large log on their shoulders, their expressions strained with the effort.
"We apologize for interrupting your walk! If it pleases you, could we ask for 'that'?"
"Gladly. Charles."
Simon glanced at his father with a slightly nervous look.
Richard Polentia was an ordinary country lord, but he had one unique characteristic.
"Step back, Simon."
Closing his eyes, Richard recited a few spells quickly and quietly, then opened his palm.
A dark mass of light floated up into the sky, transforming into the shape of a magic circle.
Simon glanced around warily.
As the magic circle began to activate, the surrounding trees and bushes rustled.
'Here it comes!'
The ground undulated, turning into a black swamp, and arms erupted from it, waving as if yearning for the sun.
Each of these arms was devoid of flesh, composed entirely of white bone fragments.
Undead.
Monsters with a blind aggression towards the living.
However, in this territory, a situation completely opposite to that common knowledge was unfolding.
Click.
Click, click, click.
Skeletons, rising from the ground, rushed over and began to support the log the men were carrying.
"Thank you, My Lord!"
The villagers, far from being afraid of the skeletons, were beaming, their faces expressing relief.
"Keep up the good work."
Indeed.
Simon's father was a necromancer.
***
It had been quite some time since necromancers ruled half the world.
It began with the Talhern Empire.
When the Emperor of Talhern, seeking to escape the necromancers' influence, sent an army of 50,000 to their headquarters, 'Kizen,' Kizen dispatched only ten necromancers.
A mere ten.
And here, a historical event known as the "Rose Retreat" took place.
The 50,000 troops marching towards Kizen turned around and returned to the imperial capital.
All of them, transformed into undead.
The capital of Talhern was devastated, and the Emperor surrendered to Kizen.
Afterward, the throne of Talhern was occupied by the 'once Emperor,' a rotting corpse.
The imperial officials bowed their heads to the lump of flesh, and tens of millions of imperial citizens were subjected to the puppet show of a decaying corpse for thirty years.
A brief glimpse into history, demonstrating the power and terror of a necromancer.
The necromancers, having emerged as the dominant force of the era, gradually expanded their power and now exerted their influence over half the continent.
The other half was held by their only rivals, the 'Priests.'
Decades had passed since the 100-year war between these two sharply opposing forces.
The continent was enjoying a somewhat precarious peace.
'...Though, that's probably irrelevant to our territory.'
To Simon, this history of war felt like a tale from a distant land.
If he were to list the most significant recent events in 'Leshill,' the territory he would one day rule, they would be the healthy birth of two calves to Charles' long-barren cow, and Calon's forehead needing three stitches after slipping while wiping the floor with straw.
Simon chuckled to himself as he arrived at the manor.
Ah, of course, the term "manor" was just what the villagers politely called it.
In reality, it was just an ordinary wooden house.
While even poor lords maintained some semblance of a fortress, citing the dignity of their position, Richard, the lord of Leshill, was remarkably modest.
Creak.
"Mom, I'm home."
As he opened the door and entered the house, the comforting scent of wood filled the air.
The crackling sound of firewood burning in the fireplace echoed through the room.
"Simon! You're back?"
A woman with graying hair, wearing an apron, popped her head out from the kitchen.
It was Anna Polentia, Simon's mother.
"Yes, I just helped with the logging in the village."
"Have you eaten?"
"...I ate lunch earlier."
"I baked some bread with the leftover dough, so spread some jam on it and eat."
She must have been possessed by the ghost of a mother who starved her child to death.
Anna, his mother, had an insatiable need to feed everyone around her at every opportunity.
Pretending not to hear, Simon pointed to a tray on the dining table.
"Mom, what's this?"
"It's water infused with Rehak mushrooms."
Rehak mushrooms were poisonous mushrooms often found in the southern mountains.
Simply placing them in water caused a green, oily substance to float to the surface.
Eating them would cause a week of suffering from stomach aches and diarrhea, but in Anna's hands, the story was different.
She approached, rolling up her sleeves, and placed her hand over the Rehak mushroom-infused water.
Woooong!
"Wow!"
Simon, who was watching, let out a small exclamation.
As a white light flickered from her hand, the poison began to neutralize.
The floating green impurities disappeared like a painting, leaving only the nutrients of the mushroom.
The white aura emanated from her body as she purified the poison.
This power, commonly known as "divine power," was the symbol of a priest.
Indeed.
Simon was born between a necromancer and a priest.
Simon hadn't heard the full story of what happened between his parents.
He only knew that the two had shared a forbidden love, the kind found only in fairy tales, and he was the result.
"Simon!"
Anna's voice called from the kitchen, where she had returned at some point.
"I baked an apple pie, so come eat!"
"...Alright, alright."
***
Another day passed, as usual.
Simon dragged his weary body to bed.
Leshill was quiet today, and it would be quiet tomorrow as well.
He fell asleep, firmly believing that this peaceful daily life would never change.
However,
Flutter!
Change had already begun.
A letter, flown in from outside the window, slapped against Simon's face.
"Ugh."
Simon lifted his arm, peeled it off, and opened his eyes.
"Hello?"
At the unfamiliar voice, Simon blinked.
Someone was sitting by the window, bathed in the melancholic moonlight.
The girl, with beautiful, long silver hair that reached her legs, exuded an otherworldly, almost mystical aura.
It was as if a forest fairy had just stepped out of a fairy tale.
"It's time."
Her voice, sweet as honey, woke him up.
After a moment of stunned silence, Simon quietly pulled the covers over his head.
"Don't pretend you didn't see me!"
The girl, with a frustrated expression, climbed down from the windowsill.
"I saw you! Get up, quickly!"
At her insistent shouts, Simon reluctantly pulled back the covers and sat up groggily.
"...How did you get here? Are you lost? Where's your mom?"
The girl sighed softly, then smiled again, seemingly regaining her composure.
The moonlight streaming through the window made her silver hair shine even more brilliantly.
"I came to the right place. I came to see you, Simon Polentia."
Simon's eyes widened in surprise.
She knows my name.
"...Me? Why?"
"Read the letter."
Her voice was unusually solemn for her age.
Simon carefully broke the seal and opened the envelope.
He heard the rustling sound as a folded, stiff piece of paper came into view.
Burst!
"Simon!"
"Simon! What was that noise?"
The door flew open, and Richard and Anna rushed in.
Their eyes met those of the silver-haired girl.
"Ah...!"
"Lady Nephtys!"
As if they weren't strangers, the couple's faces lit up.
The girl smiled and waved.
"Long time no see! Richard, Anna!"
The three began to chat excitedly.
Simon, suddenly feeling left out, watched them.
His father, Richard, wore a boyishly excited expression, and his mother, Anna, was already bustling about, preparing to make a meal.
"Simon. Greet her properly."
Richard said.
"It's Lady Nephtys Archbold."
Wait a minute.
That name sounds familiar...
Nephtys Archbold.
Nephtys Archbold.
No way...could it be?!
'Nephtys Archbold of Kizen!'
The apex of all necromancers, the ruler of Kizen.
The mastermind behind the "Talhern Incident," the one who turned an emperor into a corpse puppet.
The 300-year-old Witch of Death.
That's who this girl is?
'Then what's this?'
Simon pulled out the letter, with his trembling hands.
"I'll formally extend the offer. Simon Polentia."
The girl's voice echoed in Simon's ears like a song as he read the letter.
[Kizen Admission Letter - Simon Polentia]
"Come to Kizen."
***
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