Roan heaved, clutching his face and the back of his head, which burned with pain. The punch had taken its toll on him. He rolled around, his mind almost blank due to the pain, but he had no time to recover before another kick landed on his stomach.
"Aghh." Roan groaned, curling his body to shield his vulnerable parts. Kicks rained down on Roan from Emre, who was bloody and exhausted. Roan rolled a couple of meters away to escape the onslaught but stopped abruptly as he hit something with his back.
The kicks ceased, and Roan opened his eyes.
He saw Emre, exhausted and struggling to stay standing. Emre wobbled towards Roan with madness in his eyes and blood flowing down his chest. Roan wanted to stand and face him, but his body was exhausted. He frantically looked around and saw what had stopped him: the dead thug that he had killed.
Roan felt something on his chest move. His heart sped up, and he remembered that he was now a Necromancer. He extended his trembling hands and touched the corpse. He felt something slip through his body and enter the dead thug's body. Dark gas rose from the corpse as its skin turned black. Something wriggled beneath it, repulsive. But Roan couldn't take his eyes off it.
The body twitched, dumbfounding the wobbling Emre.
Emre's eyes widened as he stuttered, "Wha-what is that? What are you?" He almost shouted, remaining frozen as he stared at Roan and the twitching corpse of his minion.
The corpse slowly stood up, its body contorted in unnatural ways. But as soon as it stood straight, it looked no different than a person, except for its darkened skin that resembled burns and its twisted face with an unnaturally wide mouth. The mouth opened, revealing a blackened tongue, mirroring the colour of its skin.
"Gargh-gargh." It emitted horrifying sounds, like a mix of a human laugh and an eagle's cry, which managed to disturb the frozen Emre. It slowly backed away, staring at its creator, as if awaiting a command.
Roan stared back at it, mentally commanding, "Kill that man." The zombie turned its head toward its target and bobbed, resembling a nod, though who knew what thoughts went through the head of a dead creature?
The zombie lunged and stood in front of Emre in an instant, giving him no chance to react. Emre wanted to turn back and run without looking, but his body seemed to have stopped obeying him as soon as he laid eyes on the abomination, which was inches away from his face. Emre could smell death and see his face reflected in its glassy eyes. He knew he was unquestionably dead.
The zombie opened its mouth wide, large enough to easily accommodate a human head. The pungent smell of its breath overwhelmed Emre as its head hovered above his own. But just as the jaw was about to close...
"Stop!" Roan shouted, causing the zombie to halt, its teeth inches away from Emre's head.
Roan gritted his teeth, ignoring the pain flaring in his stomach as he stood up. He wobbled toward the zombie and froze Emre in place.
He smiled as he gazed at the bloodied Emre, inches away from death. Emre's chest was cut wide open, with blood squirting out occasionally. He looked horrifying, but not as much as Roan's creation.
"Stand back," Roan ordered the zombie, who slowly pulled back its head and closed its mouth. It turned around to face Roan with an emotionless expression and took a step back.
The trembling Emre suddenly balled his fist and punched the zombie in its chest, pushing it back a step. The zombie stared at the fist against its chest in confusion, then turned its attention to the horrified Emre. His punch hadn't even managed to scratch the zombie's skin.
Emre fell to his knees, his last hope shattered after witnessing the incredible durability of the zombie. He had no means of escape and no energy left for another fight after losing that much blood. It was a miracle that he hadn't passed out yet, even as a squire.
"Do whatever you want," he said in a quiet voice, losing the strength to even look straight ahead, letting his head hang down.
"I just want to know one thing," Roan said as he sat beside the zombie. "Tell me about the knight and the relationship he had with George and Sol."
Emre finally looked up at Roan with a smile and said, "He is the leader of the gang that is active in the northern part of the Outer District. They almost rule it, and he is the king. But not much compared to you, a Necromancer." Emre glanced at the zombie as he said the last part.
"You know about Necromancers." Roan raised an eyebrow at Emre. Not everyone knew much about Necromancers, except that the church hated them. What they did and what kind of powers they had was a mystery to common people. Only those who had researched a bit knew that Necromancy involved raising the undead. It wasn't a secret, but the lack of sightings of Necromancers caused people to lose interest. Emre, however, showed at least some interest in Necromancers. Otherwise, he wouldn't have been able to make the guess.
"Yes, a little bit," Emre replied, still on his knees.
"What do you know? Tell me." Roan asked, intently staring at him.
Emre shook his head and plopped down on the ground. "Not much. Only that they can raise the dead and are said to be extremely cruel."
Roan was disappointed, but there were still answers he could extract from Emre. As a member of a gang ruling the Outer District, he certainly knew things that Roan didn't.
"Tell me everything you know about knights, Magus, and especially your gang leader," Roan said, glaring at Emre. Roan didn't need to point out what would happen if he refused.
"Just promise me that you won't turn me into one of those," Emre said with difficulty, gesturing towards the zombie standing beside Roan.
Roan nodded. It wasn't a difficult demand. "Is that why you've been so cooperative?" Roan asked.
Emre just smiled.
Roan watched the writhing corpse of Emre, headless. He turned away from the fountain of blood and walked away from the corpse.
Noon was giving way to dusk as the sun started dipping in the sky. Roan had to return before even a hint of darkness. Mervielle was dangerous even without the Pit monsters, but now, it would be a death wish to stay outside at night.
Roan began walking towards the town, searching for the herbs required for the mission. He had to complete the mission at least; otherwise, this entire day would have been a waste of time. However, it hadn't been entirely wasted, as he had managed to learn a lot about the supernatural aspects of this world, which common people were unfamiliar with. His knowledge about knights and Magus was limited to what he had heard around town, and questioning Emre had filled in some of the gaps.
Just as he had suspected, true knights were incredibly powerful, even compared to squires. True knights were almost like Magus, with an energy source in their hearts called a battle force—a form of elementless ether with properties like enhancing weapons and armour, healing wounds, and even augmenting strength and agility. True knights were powerhouses. Above them were knight champions, and then knight lords. Emre didn't know much about their strength or the differences between true knights and knight champions, but according to Emre's boss, they were ridiculously powerful. As for knight lords, they were even rarer, and Emre didn't know anything about them.
Regarding Magus, Emre mentioned two ranks: Neophytes and Magus. However, he was clueless about what these ranks entailed.
Roan cut through another branch blocking his path. He had finally found the herbs for his mission. Dusk was approaching, and he needed to hurry.
A cough echoed through the quiet jungle.
"Who's there?" Roan shouted, turning toward the source of the sound. A hooded man sat on a tree branch a few meters away from Roan. He quickly unsheathed his blade, pointing it at the man.
"Woah. Slow down, boy. I'm not here to fight you," the man said. His voice sounded old, maybe in his forties.
"As if I would believe that," Roan shouted. He had beheaded a man who said the same words.
The man jumped from the tree and floated to the ground. Yes, floated, not fell.
"He's a Magus," Roan thought. Only a Magus could achieve such a feat, not even a knight could do that.
"Are you a Magus?" Roan asked the man, his sword still pointed at him.
"Yes, I am. And you must be a Necromancer. A fresh one, judging by the size of your ether pool. But the real question here is how you awakened—or rather, who awakened you? It can't be the church; they hate your kind. So tell me," the man said. His face remained hidden beneath the hood, but Roan could feel the man's piercing stare.
Roan swallowed, feeling a lump in his throat, and took a step back almost instinctively. He was afraid. This man knew too much, and his secret was in real danger. Roan's head was now closer to the church guillotine than ever before.
"How do you know?" Roan asked, trying to shake off the fear. He had to know how the man had discovered his secret. Had he been following Roan? How else would he know?
"Hmmm. Let's just say I can see your dark ether pool. Dark as the night, a sign of a person with death ether," the man replied.
"Are you referring to the ether ball in my chest?"
"Yes, it's called an ether pool. Now, let's cut the chit-chat. You might be wondering why I'm here, talking to you. You wouldn't understand, but I am a rogue Magus. I have a duty to fulfil," the hooded man said, throwing a small book towards Roan.
Roan was startled but managed to catch the book in a panic. He looked at the cover, but there was no writing, just a pitch-black leather cover.
"Don't read it now," the man said as he walked away. Just as he was about to vanish into the foliage, he turned toward Roan and smiled. His lips were red, blood red. He spoke one last sentence before disappearing, not giving Roan a chance to respond.
"One last thing... stay away from Cassandra."