"Vengeance?"
Simon repeated the word as his golden eyes gleamed beneath the crown. A faint smirk appeared on his face as he looked down at Manus from atop the enormous wave of zombies.
"Sorry, but that's none of my business."
[...]
Manus remained silent, his sword still held upright before him. Simon had already heard enough about the Ancient Undead to understand what drove him, and he had no intention of entertaining a plan that could only end in disaster.
"I've heard enough about you, the former Swordmaster of the Talhern Empire. You plan to lead the undead of Death Land and take revenge on Kizen, right?"
Simon rested the Greatsword of Destruction against his shoulder.
"But do you really think that's feasible?"
At that single word, Manus fell silent.
Simon continued before he could respond.
"In the end, you can't defeat Nefthis. What you're planning isn't a revolution or some glorious act of vengeance. It's nothing more than a rampage."
His expression gradually became more serious.
"Do you have any idea how many people across the continent would die before your army even reached Kizen?"
The Talhern Empire was already gone.
If Manus had even the slightest realistic chance of defeating Kizen, Simon wouldn't have dismissed his ambitions so easily. At the very least, his actions might have been called a revolution, regardless of whether Simon agreed with them.
But that wasn't the reality.
Even with every undead in Death Land under his command, Manus could never defeat Kizen, much less Nefthis herself. The outcome had already been decided before his march could even begin.
And the people who would suffer most wouldn't be the enemies Manus hated.
They would be the descendants of the very Empire he wanted to avenge. Generations had passed since Talhern's destruction, and countless people now lived their lives without ever knowing that the Empire had once existed.
Yet Manus intended to drag that buried hatred back into the present.
"You're already someone erased from history."
Simon looked directly into Manus's glowing eye sockets.
"Dragging up the past just to destroy the lives of your own descendants is a contradiction. There's no purpose, no justice, no practicality, and no legitimacy in what you're trying to do."
His smirk returned.
"In other words..."
The golden light within Simon's eyes sharpened.
"It's just a pitiful, pointless rampage."
[In that case...!]
Manus moved. His sword left its position in a single smooth motion, and a black slash tore across the battlefield.
SHHHHHH!
A thin line appeared across the enormous wave of zombies beneath Simon.
Then the entire formation split apart.
Dozens of zombies were sliced through simultaneously as the slash carved straight across the undead wave. With the ground beneath him suddenly disappearing, Simon was thrown into the air.
However, he had no intention of falling.
At his command, another mass of zombies surged upward from the other half of the divided wave. Bodies piled upon one another until they reached Simon's feet, catching him in midair before carrying him upward once again.
Manus stared at him from below.
[Then what should I do?!]
His grip tightened around his sword.
[What should I do to console the souls of the Imperial citizens who were unjustly slaughtered by Kizen?!]
Simon looked down at him without hesitation.
"And who's going to console the countless souls sacrificed in your future rampage?"
[...]
Manus's sword lowered slightly.
"Your loyalty to the Empire, the souls of your fallen comrades, your desire for vengeance..." Simon tightened his grip around the Greatsword of Destruction. "Maybe those things mean everything to you. But if you're willing to sacrifice countless innocent people for them, then all I hear is self-righteousness."
He raised the greatsword and pointed it toward Manus.
"So let me make my answer clear."
The enormous zombie army beneath him began to stir.
"To prevent more souls from being sacrificed for your outdated, meaningless rampage..."
Dark-blue Darkness spread across thousands of undead bodies as their golden eyes simultaneously locked onto Manus.
"...I fight."
For several moments, neither side moved.
Then Manus slowly lowered his sword diagonally while spreading his feet shoulder-width apart. The posture was simple, but the atmosphere surrounding the former Swordmaster changed enough for Simon to immediately understand his answer.
[...It seems there's no point in talking any further.]
"Looks like it."
Simon raised his free hand.
The response was immediate.
"KYAAAAAAAAAH!"
"KIIIIIIIIII!"
Thousands of zombies roared throughout Death Land.
The sound rolled across the ruined city as the enormous black wave began shifting around Simon. Countless golden eyes stared down at the lone swordsman standing before them, waiting only for their new king's command.
Manus tightened his grip around his sword.
For the first time since the battle began, a cold chill passed through him.
How could he possibly have forgotten this feeling?
Decades ago, ten necromancers had stood against the Talhern Empire and brought its most elite forces to ruin. Among those monsters, three had stood above even the others.
The beings known as Legion Commanders.
Manus slowly looked across the army before him. For a brief moment, memories from decades ago resurfaced, along with the faces of comrades who had fallen during that hopeless war.
My comrades...
His sword lowered another fraction as Darkness gathered along its blade.
Is this what you saw back then?
Ten thousand pairs of eyes remained fixed on Manus.
Simon stood atop the towering mass of zombies, one hand raised as the golden light of Prince's crown burned brightly above his head. All around him, tens of thousands of undead shifted restlessly, their bodies overflowing with dark-blue Darkness as they waited for a single command from their new king.
Across the battlefield, Manus stood at the head of his own army. The former Swordmaster slowly raised his blade, and the skeleton soldiers behind him responded in unison, tightening their ranks and raising their weapons to meet the approaching horde.
Neither side showed any intention of retreating.
Simon narrowed his golden eyes as the zombies beneath him began moving forward. Manus tightened his grip around his sword in response, preparing to receive the overwhelming army coming toward him.
The distance between the two forces rapidly disappeared.
However.... just before the first line of zombies could crash into Manus's skeleton army, an unfamiliar presence suddenly appeared.
WOOOOOOOM!
A terrifying pressure descended upon Death Land.
"Urgh...!"
Simon nearly lost his footing as the pressure swept across the battlefield without warning. The zombies beneath him staggered, while on the opposite side, countless skeletons trembled and struggled to remain standing.
Even Manus was affected.
The former Swordmaster immediately planted his feet against the ground and steadied himself with his sword. What surprised him wasn't simply the strength of the pressure, but the fact that he couldn't immediately understand what had caused it.
It wasn't an attack, nor did it feel like Darkness being released through black magic.
Rather, it felt as though an overwhelmingly powerful existence had suddenly entered Death Land, and its mere presence was pressing down upon everything around it.
Yet the battlefield wasn't the limit of its reach.
The pressure continued spreading outward from the ruined city, sweeping through the surrounding forest before eventually reaching the temporary campsite established by Kizen.
***
The campsite had been busy only moments earlier.
Students were still recovering from the evaluation, while staff and assistant professors moved between the tents and continued their work. None of them noticed anything unusual until the terrifying pressure from Death Land suddenly washed over the entire camp.
"What the...?"
A student barely managed to speak before his legs gave way beneath him.
Thud!
Before anyone could rush to help, another student collapsed nearby. Then another followed, and within moments, bodies began falling throughout the campsite as consciousness was forcibly ripped away from them.
The staff members fared no better.
Several tried to determine what was happening, but they didn't even have enough time to react before collapsing alongside the students. Even the assistant professors, who possessed far greater resistance than ordinary students, were unable to withstand the pressure for more than a few moments.
Soon, the once-busy campsite became eerily silent.
Among everyone present, only one person remained conscious.
"Urgh...!"
Professor Aaron staggered forward before forcing one foot firmly against the ground. His breathing had become heavy, and every part of his body screamed at him to collapse, yet he somehow managed to remain standing.
What the hell is this...?
Aaron had experienced the presence of powerful necromancers before. As a professor of Kizen, he was hardly someone who would lose consciousness merely because a strong opponent released their pressure.
But this was different.
The pressure alone was enough to knock out everyone in the campsite without its owner even being present.
"This pressure...!"
Aaron clenched his teeth and forced his head upward. His blurred gaze turned toward Death Land, instinctively following the direction from which the terrifying presence had come.
"Who the hell?!"
He managed to remain standing for only a few seconds longer.
His vision finally darkened, and the strength disappeared from his legs. Aaron collapsed onto the ground, leaving no one conscious within Kizen's campsite.
***
Meanwhile, the source of that disturbance had brought the battle near the mansion to a complete halt.
"Urgh...!"
Simon gritted his teeth as the overwhelming pressure swept across the battlefield, Pier's Bone Armor still covering his body. The golden light in his eyes flickered as he struggled to maintain his connection with the crown and the enormous zombie army surrounding him, while even Prince had gone unusually quiet after sensing the presence that had suddenly descended upon Death Land.
Across from them, Manus wasn't faring much better. Although the former Swordmaster remained firmly on his feet, the sword he had been ready to swing at Simon moments earlier had lowered slightly as his attention shifted toward the source of the pressure.
The same reaction spread through both armies.
The tens of thousands of zombies that had been seconds away from charging forward gradually came to a halt, while the skeleton soldiers waiting to receive them stopped advancing as well. In a matter of moments, the battlefield that had been on the verge of erupting into another massive clash fell into an uneasy silence.
Neither Simon nor Manus made the first move.
Both of them could feel that something else had entered Death Land.
Then, from an empty stretch of ruins far to the side of both armies, the air began to distort.
Vmmmmmm.
A faint dark-violet light appeared within the distortion, twisting through the air as the surrounding space rippled around it.
It was far enough from both forces that neither side was in immediate danger, yet close enough for everyone on the battlefield to clearly see the phenomenon taking shape among the shattered streets and ruined buildings.
The distortion continued expanding until the dark-violet light formed a large circular opening. Violet energy rippled around its edges, while the space within was filled with a darkness so deep that nothing beyond it could be seen.
As the circle finally stopped expanding, its shape became clear enough for everyone on the battlefield to recognize what had appeared before them.
It was a portal.
Simon instinctively turned toward it, his eyes narrowing as the connection between the strange phenomenon and the pressure surrounding Death Land immediately became clear.
"...This is...?"
[Careful, boy. That pressure is coming from the portal.]
Pier's warning echoed from the Bone Armor covering him, causing Simon's expression to grow even more serious. Whatever was responsible for bringing their entire battle to a standstill was somewhere beyond that dark opening, and judging by the pressure alone, it wasn't something they could afford to ignore.
Manus had reached the same conclusion, but his reaction was noticeably different.
Instead of simple caution, the former Swordmaster felt an uncomfortable familiarity creeping through him. His fingers slowly tightened around the hilt of his sword as he stared into the violet darkness, searching through memories that had remained buried for decades.
[This pressure...]
The longer Manus felt it, the stronger that familiarity became.
[Impossible. How could an existence of this level appear here again...?]
For a brief moment, the battlefield before him was replaced by memories of the Talhern Empire.
He remembered its strongest warriors marching into battle with absolute confidence. He remembered the necromancers who had stood against them, and most vividly of all, he remembered the handful of monsters whose overwhelming power had helped bring an Empire that once seemed unstoppable to its knees.
The Legion Commanders.
Those memories belonged to a war that had ended decades ago, yet the pressure flowing from the portal awakened the same instinct that had warned Manus of those terrifying existences back then.
Before he could dwell on that feeling any further, movement finally appeared within the darkness.
Clank.
The sound of metal against stone broke the silence.
An armored foot stepped through the portal, followed by a tall knight who calmly emerged from the dark-violet opening and entered the ruined streets of Death Land.
Jet-black armor covered the knight from head to toe, its sharp and angular plates forming an imposing silhouette around his tall frame. A restrained violet glow seeped through the narrow gaps between the armor and burned from within his helmet, where two violet eyes stared silently across the battlefield.
A long cape flowed behind him, accompanied by a distinctive red plume that extended from the back of his horned helmet and swayed with each step. At his side rested a massive sword, yet despite appearing before two armies ready for war, the knight made no attempt to draw it.
He simply continued walking.
The complete lack of urgency in his movements only made his arrival more unsettling. Simon watched him carefully from atop the zombie horde, while Manus studied every step from the opposite side, neither willing to make a move before understanding what had just entered their battlefield.
After several steps, the knight finally came to a stop.
For a moment, he remained there in complete silence, his violet eyes passing over the two armies before him. Then, rather than reaching for his sword as Simon had expected, the knight calmly shifted his body and took a single step to the side.
The knight turned slightly and lowered his head in a respectful bow. At the same time, he reached for the edge of his cape and lifted it outward, as though welcoming someone's arrival.
As he raised it, a violet glow suddenly spread across the inner side of the cape. The dark fabric began to ripple like water, its surface slowly changing until it no longer looked like ordinary cloth.
Then, a figure appeared within the violet surface.
At first, only his silhouette could be seen. But as he moved forward, his figure slowly came into view from within the cape as though he were stepping through a doorway.
Clank... Clank...
Slow footsteps echoed from within the violet cape.
Each step grew clearer than the last, yet the knight holding the cape remained perfectly still. His head stayed respectfully lowered, one arm holding the cloth aside as though the terrifying pressure enveloping Death Land had never belonged to him in the first place.
Another footstep echoed from the cape, louder and closer than before, until a jet-black armored foot finally emerged from beneath the raised cape.
The rest of the figure followed.
A tall, lean knight stepped calmly through the violet-black darkness and onto the ruined streets of Death Land. Layered jet-black armor covered him completely from head to toe, its angular plates fitted closely around his body, giving him a powerful yet streamlined appearance without the unnecessary bulk of conventional heavy armor.
Restrained violet light glowed through the narrow gaps between the plates, most noticeably around his chest, gauntlets, and joints. The faint light seemed to pulse beneath the armor itself, giving the impression that the darkness surrounding him was alive.
Yet it was his helmet that immediately drew the eye.
His face was completely concealed behind the jet-black metal, with sharp crown-like points rising from the upper edges to form the silhouette of a dark monarch. No skin, hair, or expression could be seen beneath it, leaving only two brilliant violet eyes burning within the darkness of the visor.
A single long jet-black cloak hung from his left shoulder and fell diagonally behind him, leaving much of his right side unobstructed. The cloth appeared physical near the shoulder, but as it descended toward his lower legs, its edges gradually dissolved into drifting black and violet wisps that curled around him like living shadows.
The mysterious knight continued forward without saying a word.
Only after he had completely passed through did the armored knight beside him lower his cape. The violet passage beneath the cloth faded with it, leaving the two figures standing together before the armies of Death Land.
The first knight moved naturally into position beside his sovereign, his head still lowered in silent respect. There was no need for an introduction to understand the relationship between them.
The terrifying pressure that had reached even Kizen's distant campsite had never belonged to the knight who emerged first.
It belonged to the one he had welcomed.
The violet eyes beneath the crown-like helmet slowly lifted, taking in Simon and his sea of zombies on one side and Manus with his army on the other.
And with that.... Jin, Commander of the 8th Legion, had entered the battlefield.