Arstain looked fearfully around, where pairs of glowing green lights shone in the dark.
These eyes belonged to nothing but the count's own imagination, which materialized in the soulscape. Understanding that made Aleric smile with pity toward the man.
It reminded him of the time in the past…
When a youth, so hungry that he couldn't feel it anymore, was huddling under a bush of straw left on the field. This youth twitched at every rustle of grass and leaves he heard.
Each sound could be a footstep of a farmer with a sharp-sharp pitchfork, or worse, a templar with a sharp-sharp axe.
Was that thumping coming from a rabbit, or from a templar's undead-hunting dog?
In this youth's imagination, they were.
For years…
"This is no way to live," Aleric said. "But this is fine. Dark magic changed things for me, and it will change things for you."
Count Arstain just raised his eyes at Aleric and accepted the binding of his soul with even less resistance than most other souls.
When Aleric returned to reality, he grinned, knowing that his spell succeeded—and even without the ritual circle!
Then he also raised the dead horse as a zombie, just so it could hobble away on its three working feet.
Despite this, and the Dark magic in him, the former count wasn't in a hurry to get up.
"Stand up already, 'count'," Aleric said.
"Oh." The man sat up, then slowly stood and looked around. "Uh… Am I… undead?"
"Yes, Danit Arstain," said Samuel, who was watching this silently until now. If in life, he had a low opinion about Danit Arstain, now it became even lower. "You stand before your master, Aleric Fenn. Whom you will address as 'master'."
Arstain almost jumped in place.
"Justicar! Uh… Former one. And… Master Fenn! The necromancer!"
Aleric huffed.
"Staff, you think his soul was damaged by the reanimation, or he was like that from the start?"
"It's really hard to say, master. Some people are so stupid that even repeated reanimations make little to no difference!"
"Excuse me!" Arstain finally seemed to find his wits. "I won't take accusations from some skull with… Green eyes. The green eyes are nothing to me now!"
"A skull?! I am the creation of the great Xarvain, the Arch-Necromancer, the first of the Second Dark Spire!"
"Quiet! Count… Danit, was it? You will come with us and tell your people to surrender. And in the meantime, obey Samuel's instructions."
"As you say, Master Fenn. Simple enough! A pity I can't do that from my horse…"
The animal really didn't look like it could take another rider. But Aleric thought that the count would sound more convincing from a horse.
"Get him a zombie horse and a torch, Samuel. Let the count be seen."
***
At this time, the people inside the castle were preparing their own defenses. The news that the city's gates have fallen has reached them faster than the undead, but some preparations were made even before that.
Ever since the alarm bell woke her up, Countess Salia Arstain has been directing the castle's servants and garrison to prepare for an incoming attack.
The countess wasn't exceptionally tall or beautiful, although her age and the birth of two kids made her body full and lush in all places. Her clothing was a simple dress, and her blond hair was tied up in just a basic bun.
Still, people depended on her, the mistress of the castle.
As Salia stood with a torch on the castle's wall and the cold autumn wind brought with it the smell of blood, she hoped it would be enough to protect her children. She hoped that her husband would still return to her…
When Salia saw him riding out from the street, for a moment, her breath caught in relief.
Then this breath got stuck in her throat when she saw the blood on his clothing and the white-haired, corpse-like man in a black cloak walking next to Danit.
Even if Aleric didn't look like a corpse himself, his staff immediately let Salia recognize him as the feared necromancer.
That, and the army of undead marching behind and around him. Two zombies were carrying shields, ready to protect Aleric from any arrows that the castle's defenders could shoot. Behind them, several dozen zombies and skeletons were carrying long ladders to climb the wall of the castle.
Around Salia, confused and afraid soldiers whispered among each other.
"This… this is the lord! But… Why is he with them?"
"What is going on?"
From a distance, with only a single torch to illuminate him, it was hard to see that the count was undead. People who were unfamiliar with necromancy didn't think about this possibility, especially when the count began speaking with the same boisterousness he had in life.
"My men! You have stood bravely in defense of Oakdale. But this is enough! Lay down your weapons. There is no need to fight anymore! We have won! We—the rightful rulers of this county, myself and lord Fenn!" the count said loudly.
People on the wall gasped in shock. Murmurs of doubt came over them, and many looked for answers toward the highest-ranked person in the castle right now—Salia Arstain.
But she was just as puzzled as everybody else.
Why was her husband saying such insane things? Should she obey and give the garrison's captain an order to open the gates?
In this moment, the light from the count's torch lit a man in bloody armor standing next to him. Although the engravings on the armor were unrecognizable, the silhouette was very familiar to Salia.
Justicar Samuel Esvan, the man who died over a week ago! A man who would never stand next to a necromancer without trying to run his sword through his skull!
At this moment, Salia understood what was going on, and her heart plummeted.
She raised her torch higher.
"Our count's body and soul were taken by the necromancer, and he's not himself anymore. He's now another undead abomination—don't listen to him! Fight, fight with all your might!"
The soldiers roared, raising their spears, swords, and bows.
"Fine, then," Aleric muttered. "Soldiers, attack!"
With howls of wights, the undead army marched forward with the ladders. At this time, Salia turned toward the garrison's captain.
"Are the burning arrows ready?" she asked him quietly.
"Yes, milady… But… Are you sure you want to do this?" the man replied uneasily. "By all accounts, there are thousands of people still alive…"
"WANT to do this? No. But we must, Captain." The countess blinked tears out of her eyes. Her voice shook. "The fiends have taken the city with ease—they will take out the castle, it's just a matter of time. Then, the necromancer will have his fill of bodies. Remember, death is a minute concern, but the fate of our souls is eternal!"
The captain saluted.
"Yes, milady. I will give the order."
The siege ladders docked on the walls. Aleric watched the first skeletons climb them and waited patiently for his inevitable victory.
Even when he saw archers on the walls draw bows with flaming arrows, he wasn't too worried. People, even dead ones, weren't very flammable.
But when the first arrow flew, Aleric's eyes widened with shock.
It was aimed not at the undead, but at the wooden houses around the castle.
Countess Arstain was going to burn the entire city to the ground, just so that Aleric wouldn't have it!
He had to stop this! If the city burned, Aleric's entire conquest was going to be put under question!