Omen of Destruction (2)
Why are necromancers objects of disgust, contempt, fear, and hatred?
The reason is so obvious that there's no need to ponder it.
They deliberately choose only the acts humans shouldn't do. That's how these abnormally strong individuals grow.
So every necromancer tries to hide their true nature as much as possible.
In public, they deliberately use techniques that appear as ordinary magic, while their truly evil methods are secretly employed behind the scenes.
Even so, why do clergy or perceptive people manage to detect them?
It's simple.
The source of necromancy—necromantic energy itself—is too "dirty."
Deathly aura, resentment, hatred, fear—the necromantic energy is the product of gathering all the world's negative and twisted energies and converting them into power.
Any living being instinctively shuns it as soon as necromancy is activated.
It's like the natural reaction of wrinkling one's nose and covering it near a rotting corpse.
Can one wash away the filth of necromantic energy?
Even Karnak, the strongest necromancer in human history, had no way to do it.
The very foundation of necromancy is the manipulation of impure energies, and those impure energies are precisely what provoke revulsion.
It's like starting to rot something and being told it shouldn't smell.
That's when Karnak had an idea.
"Wait… there are foods that are deliberately fermented from the start!"
Fermentation has countless examples in human history. Even the alcohol he loved so much in his human life was produced this way.
"You can't wash away the filth, but maybe you can make it feel like it's not dirty?"
From then on, he began experimenting with whether necromantic energy could be "fermented."
Of course, the idea of rotting food is only metaphorical; the fermentation process itself cannot literally be applied to necromancy.
But the concept could be borrowed.
"What if I take necromantic energy, which is based on impure aura, and process it a second time?"
After decades of research, he finally completed the theoretical framework—and once he returned to a living body, he made it a reality.
"By removing the negative emotions like resentment and hatred from necromantic energy, leaving only the pure essence of death and darkness, and then reprocessing it, I transformed it into something resembling ordinary magic."
Karnak conjured a few more flames around him.
Once again, there was no trace of necromancy; they felt like ordinary magic flames.
Muttering playfully, Karnak smiled.
"It feels like mana, but it's not mana. Not quite mana, yet almost mana—a sort of third type of power, you could say."
Baros tilted his head.
"So, you're saying it's like filtering out the bad stuff and keeping only the good, tasty parts?"
"Roughly? Not an exact analogy, though."
"No wonder… I always wondered why you stayed holed up in the library. You used to hang out in cemeteries, battlefields haunted by resentment…"
"Necromancy's power increases with the density of tainted energy."
But Chaos Mana filters out all that filth. Only by leaving the pure essence of death and darkness can it be reprocessed.
"Now I have to avoid such places. Otherwise, it just creates extra work."
Baros shrugged.
"Good for me. I thought I'd have to dig up corpses again like before."
Dig up corpses? They had also kidnapped innocent people, tortured them, and corrupted their souls to forcibly convert them into power.
"Feels like you've started living like a normal person now."
"You've gotten much kinder, haven't you?"
It wasn't a lie. Considering how extreme his past misdeeds had been, this counted as being much gentler.
Karnak looked satisfied as he extinguished the flames.
"Now I can even pass as a regular mage in front of the clergy."
During the duel trial with Randolph, he had had to pretend to be a knight under tight time constraints. Now there was no need for such dangerous pretense.
Suddenly, Baros asked another question.
"Then why is it called Chaos Mana?"
He roughly understood the explanation, but the term "chaos" seemed unrelated.
"Wouldn't Fermented Mana be a more fitting name?"
"That sounds boring!"
"That's it?"
"Don't underestimate it—names matter. Haven't you noticed just from the term necromancy?"
In the past, necromancers were sometimes called black mages or practitioners of black magic.
Necromancy deals with the power of death, and black magic with the power of darkness.
Strictly speaking, the methods are slightly different, but the underlying energies are almost the same.
Necromantic energy is the power of death and darkness; black magic is the power of darkness and death—it's almost identical.
"It's like adding milk to tea or tea to milk—what's the difference?"
Thus, there's no necromancer who hasn't learned some black magic, and no black mage who hasn't learned necromancy. Naturally, a necromancer is essentially also a black mage.
This perception changed because of the resistance from mages.
Black magic seemed related to conventional magic. Necromancy, on the other hand, appeared purely as an evil force, entirely separate from magic.
Mages stubbornly eliminated the term black magic and spread only the word necromancy.
For the same reason, necromancers themselves never called themselves black mages.
From the necromancer's perspective, being seen as a subordinate branch of the mages was a matter of pride.
"Now do you understand the importance of a name?"
Baros thought seriously.
"I don't understand at all."
But he didn't press further.
If Karnak liked it, why question it?
"Then I'll take my leave. Thank you for your time."
Half a year had passed since their return to this era. It had also been a year since Karnak became the new lord.
Both of them were spending their days diligently.
Baros was undergoing rigorous daily training, steadily walking the path of a knight.
Though his origins were humble and he hadn't yet received formal commissioning, the people within the domain had long since recognized his skill.
No one could deny that Baros was now indisputably the strongest knight in the Jestrad domain.
His growth had reached the point where even if multiple knights attacked him at once, he could barely be matched. The only reason it wasn't widely known was that he hadn't had an opportunity to showcase his fame outside the domain.
Baros himself didn't care at all.
"Better that no one knows," he thought.
A reputation meant facing more battles—and Baros, having survived countless major conflicts over decades, often facing death, had no interest in fame.
"A cold beer after a day's work is far more valuable than fame!"
After another rewarding session of personal training, drenched in sweat, he downed a drink.
"Ah! This is the true joy of the day!"
Finishing his beer, Baros left the training grounds of the estate, planning to wash off the sweat at the well.
Passing maids blushed as they saw him bare-chested.
"Oh my, it's Baros."
"He's gotten so impressive lately!"
He was no longer the lanky youth of before. His shoulders were broad, chest expansive like a field, back solid as a cow, and limbs pulsing with tightly packed muscles.
Unlike in the past, he no longer abused his body simply because he was young.
No matter how tasty the food, he ate moderately; no matter how tedious the training, he persevered, doing his best to keep this "living body" continuously "fresh and strong."
Baros' dedication became a model for many.
Even in the prime of youth, restraining desires and training oneself—what a commendable sight.
Of course, in his mind, he was still closer to a middle-aged man.
"Just one more beer… but I must resist, right? Health above all else, of course."
The Jestrad estate study.
Karnak, having already finished his daily administrative work, was practicing with Chaos Mana as usual.
As he focused on converting magical energy, there was a knock at the door.
"Snacks for you, my lord."
"Come in, Baros."
Though now a knight in service, Baros still dutifully attended to Karnak, even if minor tasks like this could be delegated to the maids.
Why?
As soon as the plate was set on the table, he neatly split the cookies in half and placed them before himself.
"Half is mine, right?"
He couldn't eat the lord's precious treats in front of others, so he used the excuse of serving to share them.
"Yes, go ahead and eat."
The two of them happily devoured the cookies.
"Ah, so sweet."
"Wow, this is delicious."
The cookies disappeared in an instant, and Karnak muttered in disappointment.
"Couldn't I have a few more? It's not like we can't afford them."
Baros immediately intervened.
"You'll gain weight."
"I normally don't gain weight."
"That's the problem. A slim person with a protruding belly is the most dangerous, you know?"
Though it was only a few more cookies, the two young men, having lived long enough to know the world, understood the lesson: small indulgences can quickly snowball into serious damage.
"Right. Never trust yourself. The one you can least trust is yourself."
Sighing, Karnak took back the cookie plate.
As he cleaned up, Baros asked,
"How's your magic training coming along?"
"I think I can start showing myself as a mage to others soon."
Although Karnak had taken part in the duel trial as a knight, he couldn't keep playing the role of a knight forever.
So, in front of the people, he changed his stance.
"The path of a knight isn't for me. From now on, I will walk the path of a mage!"
Surprisingly, he had other connections beyond the Delpiad Swordsmanship.
"While training in the mountains to master Delpiad Swordsmanship, I discovered a great legacy—the spellbook of Dallas, a court mage who rose to fame 150 years ago!"
"Oh! My lord, what luck!"
The people of the Jestrad household didn't find Karnak's choice strange.
They had all witnessed the duel trial. Karnak had displayed unwavering mental strength, determination, and the noble spirit of a true aristocrat—a truly proud lord.
But… did that mean he was skilled at fighting?
"Even to a layman's eyes, not really…"
"Honestly, he didn't seem very talented."
"If he can excel as a mage, that would be best!"
After all, it was the spellbook of a royal court mage. Perhaps the Jestrad family could produce a top-tier mage!
"I obtained the court mage's spellbook, so my magical skill improved rapidly. Isn't that a perfectly reasonable story?"
Baros raised an eyebrow.
"Sure, sure… but…"
Of all people, he knew better than anyone else that there was no such thing as a real royal court mage's spellbook.
"Who's this Dallas? Did he really exist?"
"He was indeed famous. That's why I used his name."
Dallas was a real mage who had risen to fame 150 years ago, which is why his name was still remembered.
"But what if a real descendant of Dallas appears? If it's truly the court mage's legacy, that could be a problem."
"No problem."
"Are you certain?"
"Absolutely. Dallas left no disciples and never wrote any spellbooks. There's no way it could be linked to anyone."
"How can you be so sure?"
Karnak had good reason to be confident.
"Because he himself told me. You know him too, Baros, right?"
"Huh?"
"Remember the Archlich I assigned to manage southern Necropia?"
Baros recalled and his eyes widened.
"The Governor Demphis?"
"Yes. His human name was Dallas."
"But you said he was a mage 150 years ago? How was he playing with us? The timeline doesn't match."
"Remember the ruins we excavated in the Barakant Mountains?"
"Yes."
"We unearthed the bones of a mage there, processed them, and then animated his soul to create the Archlich. That's the guy."
"Oh…"
Karnak had taken the magic of a real mage, forcibly extracted via mental domination, and transformed it into a chaos magic formula.
"That's enough to convincingly pose as a mage, heh heh heh."
Of course, it wasn't possible to regain all the tremendous power he once had as the Death King…
"Does it matter? I don't intend to conquer the world again."
He only needed enough strength to protect his domain and handle any accidents that might arise.
"And what if something truly catastrophic happens that even that power can't handle?"
"I simply won't get involved in such matters."
Having lived over a hundred years, he had learned something:
Whether great power comes with great responsibility, he wasn't sure.
But he did know that great power inevitably attracts great events. He had experienced that firsthand.
"I'll stay hidden and live quietly like a mouse! I'll never interfere in worldly affairs!"
Clenching his fists, Karnak resolved firmly.
It would only be about three months later that he realized just how mistaken he had been.