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For A Necromancer Master As Hot as Mine, I'll Be The Strongest Undead

D_DragPersona
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Synopsis
Awakening from his final slumber as an undead created by a pretty necromancer to see the earth he knew destroyed. Byan decided to become the strongest undead in order to make his gorgeous master the queen of the world, with, of course, him being the King. Well, he would lose his humanity? Oh screw it! What, he would become a pathetic slave? You got to be joking, I, Byan, never worked for myself, why would I work for another? What? This is really shameful? No biggie, I will use my master to create the ultimate undead army ever to exist and become its Omnipotent General! "Oh, world! You are mine! Oh heavens, you are next!"
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Chapter 1 - Tomb

It was a surreal experience, one of the very first for Myaz.

Her hands had clenched tight to the point her nails were nibbling on her soft palms, causing a few dull-red grooves to settle in the flesh; the same color her snow-white face had been tainted by from her blood that raged in her body as though set on fire.

Her dainty feet that had never been bothered to lift the weight of her self now stomped over the thick abrupt popping roots and the crunchy withered leaves of trees without care for bruises.

The soft moist soil flattened under her feet, staining her silk black dress and would occasionally creep inside her black boots.

The strong scent of earth had never pushed up her nose as it did now, or the dusty and fierce woody odor, carried by the wind striking her face as she maneuvered past the trees with her heart's throbbing continuously reminding her to not stop.

A loud boom behind her tugged her neck back, making her stumble against the thick root protruding out and crash head-first into the trunk of a tree.

"Ouch, ouch, ouch," Her hands moved to shield her head, the splitting pain making her squirm like a worm.

'No, there's no time for this!' Her eyes recollected their wits, and fearfully turned back. 'They will catch up like this. What should I do?'

Her eyes swerved left and right. But there was nothing but an endlessly expanding jungle all around her.

She wasn't bright enough to think of a way to escape, or had the power to confront her chasers. All she could hope for was a miracle.

Loosening a sigh from her vexed nerves, she pressed a hand onto the trunk and tried to support herself up.

But suddenly, miraculously, the part of the trunk bearing the weight of her hand pushed in. Sucking her palm inside.

The shivers nearly caused her to shriek in fright. But she clasped her mouth and stared back, fearing even her little gasp might have settled her fate.

But the jungle was calm, eerily so. Her heart pounded and pounded, fiercely like a pretty and helpless caged thing.

As she returned her eyes to the trunk, she realised in surprise that it didn't seem to have gotten stuck. She could actually pull it out... exactly as she could push it in.

She gulped, two voices were roaring at her in her mind. One said, 'This is strange.' While the other pleaded desperately, 'Do it!'.

Softly, she could hear the sound of crisp leaves being crunched beneath someone's feet from afar.

The soft sound helped her make a hard decision.

She grounded her teeth and jumped inside. Her eyes squeezed shut subconsciously.

It wasn't some kind of a long fall, in fact, it was much gentler and quicker, like a hop.

This put her a bit at ease. Her eyes began to flutter delicately before peeling wide.

"Wh-What is this place?" Her mouth fell loose, her eyes gawking at the supposed inside of a tree.

"There's no way... this... is this a tomb?"

Despite the odds, she had to believe it.

First of all, this place was way bigger than the trunk could house, if it even could. And secondly, the little mound of dirt in the center of the place, and the odd tombstone beside it... what could it be but a grave?

Curiosity worked her hands and feet toward the tomb as soft loam flattened under her palm.

She bet that she could stand straight too, but the lack of light made her more comfortable with just crawling.

"I-I can't really see." Deep grooves dug into her forehead as she struggled to read the words on the tombstone.

Helplessly, and curiously, she moved her squinted eyes to the small mound.

Her hand reached out and caressed it softly.

Instantly, her miniscule, self-infected nail wounds on her palm reacted with the grave. Causing a soft, bloody light to shimmer out of it.

Her hand convulsed, as though grazed by an electric shock, and pulled back. Her eyes trembled as she saw the place she had touched slightly caved in.

"What... What is this?"

Her heart began to wriggle from unease. Her senses began to whisper to her, and convinced her to no avail of retreat.

"Where can I run to? They will catch up... I doubt it is only a moment before they find me here too... My fate is.... already sealed."

Her heart began to ease. The noises in her head subdued by a sense of inevitability.

After a moment, her eyes returned to the tombstone.

"But... what is this place honestly?" Her hand rose, it paused briefly in front of the stone before proceeding to caress it.

There was a layer of dust atop it. But as she scrubbed its surface and focused keenly. She could vaguely make out what was written.

"This is... isn't this the ancient language?" Her expression turned odd, "Here I just ran from those sickos, and now their teaching's haunt me again?"

Brushing the thought off, she focused. Her lips murmuring subtly to clarify what she understood.

Here is the final abode of the alive, and the first abode of the dead.

To stir one from sleep is a crime, but to awaken one from death is sin.

Yet if you are prepared to lose all, and can shoulder the sins of another alongside your own, then proceed.

Then batten yourself upon his death and rivet him with your life.

Free him from his penance.

Bring dawn to your demise.

...Odd! And crazy! These were the only words Myaz found to describe her feelings.

The creepy feeling made her shudder and clasp herself.

"This is... this is hinting at necromancy right?" The dots began to click, "This is a, probably, a ritual."

"A forbidden one too." She whispered under her breath.

But the more she thought about it, the more ironic she felt, "Are you reprimanding me for my incompetence as a necromancer? True, I haven't succeeded once on creating an undead... but isn't it too much to ridicule me in my last moments like this?"

She shook her head. Proceeding to read the method written ahead.

It was fairly simple. One, she had to feed the grave her blood. Second, she had to recite a short spell. But as she read it in her mind, the more she felt it it to be a— "A prayer!" Her eyes glistened like pearls.

It was an odd thought, 'Should I try?' It lingered, it pestered.

As she was mulling, she could hear a solitary voice from outside whispering in confusion.

"The traces end here... where did she go?"

Her heart squirmed, "Time's running short."

Her head fled back to the entrance, then to the grave, then again toward the entrance.

"Alright, I will try."

Just as she made up her mind, a loud exclamation stirred her still.

"WHAT THE— Wh-What is this place?"

'Shit... I am doomed.' Her fists rolled tight.

Whilst the man that had entered raised his hand and commanded lightly, "Luminous!"

A small blob of white light emerged from thin air. It illuminated the far corners bright, and revealed Myaz bare to his malicious sight.

Myaz stared, it was a man, draped in a white cloak that covered half his face.

'A... A Church Venator? No wonder I never managed to shake them off.' Myaz trembled from fear.

She shakily supported herself to her feet and commanded in a fake, authoritative voice, "You there, how dare you have the audacity to come unannounced. Perhaps you don't know, I am the—"

"Enough, don't pretend. I know you have deserted... I have been tasked to bring you back alive, though in what condition? That depends on your compliance."

He raised his hand and snapped it shut in force. Creating a boom from his explosive strength.

Myaz yelped, her feet skidding back. "L-Look—"

"You need to," His fist stretched back, his voice turning cold, "Learn your place." With a boom, he punched forward.

The explosive force of his fist sent Myaz crashing into the grave, she would've died had he actually struck her.

Her stomach wrung like a washing machine, causing two big splats of blood to cough out of her mouth and fall atop the grave.

Under its influence, the whole grave shone blindingly— like the surface of a mirror under the sun— in a pungent scarlet color.

Her heart throbbed, seeing the light, her mind went blank. The light enchanted her sights like the devil, it whispered through her ringing ears. And she coughed out the prayer in a meek, but crazed voice.

"Oh ye, who, in life, committed such acts of sins that they may bring shame upon the salty waters of the seven seas in size.

"You, who, in repentance, committed yourself to penance. Only to be tricked, killed, and banished into a hell feared even by devils."

The man shook, "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" He could feel it, something terrible was happening. Something very terrible!

"I set you free from your guilt! I shall ameliorate your sins, steal them from you, and make them firm and as true as a handful of vows made in the name of stars!"

"Stop it! STOP IT THIS INSTANT!" The man clenched his fist and bombarded it out again.

"So purport life, stand upright, erstwhile dead, forever more dying!"

Seeing the force whirling a gust of fierce wind in her direction. She loosened a smile.

The light behind her seemed to have reached its peak, the grave had but almost caved down, a bleak silhouette could be seen emerging from underneath it.

Just before the force could blast her off again, and blow the candles of her consciousness out, Myaz roared, "BYAN!"

A terrible boom shook the whole place. It dissipated the fierce force and forced the Venator on his knees.

Myaz looked back, it was right behind her— a deep, echoy, and hoarse voice— it spoke so softly that it seemed to make the air teeter in its boots, while hurling a question coldly.

"Do you dare bare my sins?"