Chapter 44
For souls bound by necromancy, only two emotions remain:
Absolute loyalty toward the necromancer who summoned them from death,
and the yearning for eternal rest.
Thus, when a necromancer promises to grant them that eternal rest, it is the greatest reward a death soldier can receive.
So why are they acting like this?
Caught in an unexpected situation, unable to move forward or back, Eden knelt on one knee and pleaded with solemn reverence.
“Please do not disregard our will, my lord.”
Then, the twelve knights behind him also knelt and bowed their heads.
I mean, really? I’m telling them to go rest in peace somewhere nice, not punishing them!
Maybe you don’t know, but I’m a necromancer whose goal is not to necromance!
In fact, when I returned, I planned to perform a purification ritual and live as a normal person.
I was about to convince them that we’d soon part ways anyway, but Eden spoke first.
“Our expedition is not yet over. We must stop the soul-summoner, mustn’t we, my lord?”
Well… true, the crisis threatening this world might not be over yet.
But that’s not my responsibility, is it?
I mean, I’m just a humble necromancer — haven’t I done more than enough already?
That selfish thought almost made me turn away… until I thought of Castian.
That damn emperor would no doubt order him to track down the missing soul-summoner again.
If I let these soldiers go, then once again, all I could do was watch him struggle alone to protect the world.
I can’t do much on my own… but with these knights, maybe I could help Castian.
Come to think of it, the spirits kneeling before me were all Castian’s knights.
How could I push them away, knowing they lingered here because of their unfinished duty?
With a deep sigh, I finally spoke to my newly bound knights.
“Alright. I’ll borrow your strength a little longer.”
At my half-hearted permission, Eden clenched his fist and shouted with joy.
“I knew you would, my lord! You are kind and righteous!”
“…Kind and righteous? I’m really not.”
“We shall follow you to the very end!”
“We shall follow!”
The knights’ booming voices left me speechless.
Even though they were spectral figures, I could feel their genuine admiration.
I was just some hapless possessor, doomed to play detective because I happened to fall for the Empire’s golden hero… yet here they were, offering me pure respect.
I felt ashamed for ever thinking selfishly.
Avoiding the shining gazes of those gloomy bluish-gray spirits, I said quietly,
“For now, please hide inside my shadow.”
“My lord, I must remain by your side to protect you.”
“If I’m ever in danger, then you can come out. For now, stay hidden. You’ll attract too much attention otherwise.”
“But, my lord…”
The other knights obediently melted into my shadow, but Eden lingered, drooping his brows pitifully.
Honestly, I wanted to let him do as he wished.
But if I walked around with death soldiers following me, I’d get stoned on sight.
I could take the stones — I’m used to that — but I didn’t want the knights, once proud men of House Bernstein, to suffer people’s scorn.
Explaining would be pointless; Eden would just puff his chest and say he’s fine. So, I used my cheat card.
In the most solemn tone I could muster, I declared,
“This is an order, Sir Eden.”
“By your command.”
And just like that, my loyal captain disappeared into my shadow without another word.
After sending the remaining soldiers off to their eternal rest, I was finally alone again.
When I turned toward the chapel, I saw Castian, Saint Irine, and Hamilton deep in discussion.
Since saints and necromancers don’t exactly mix well, avoiding her would normally be the wise move.
But I took a deep breath and approached — I had something to ask Hamilton.
As I drew closer, they were talking about the missing soul-summoner.
His name, apparently, was John.
A name so blatantly fake it might as well have been “Alias McAlias.”
He was said to be about twenty, with brown hair and brown eyes — a very common combination.
Still, Hamilton described him in excruciating detail, calling him a radiantly handsome young man.
Considering this was coming from the guy whose skull got caved in by said man, he must have been really good-looking.
I couldn’t care less how handsome a lunatic who tries to summon the Demon King is, but Castian was studying Hamilton’s expression intently.
Then, with a casual tone, he said,
“Seems you were rather fond of him.”
Hamilton froze, caught off guard, then sighed self-deprecatingly.
“…Not really. We only spoke a few times.”
“For someone you barely spoke to, your feelings seem unusually deep.”
Now that he mentioned it, Hamilton had been practically glowing while talking about John — like a fangirl describing her favorite idol.
Realizing how strange his own attitude was, Hamilton scrubbed his face and muttered bitterly,
“I suppose it’s the aftereffects of the soul-binding spell.”
What did soul-binding have to do with gushing over someone’s looks?
Irine and I both looked confused, but Castian’s expression hardened.
“What do you mean by that, exactly?”
Hamilton hesitated, then gestured to me.
“Well… it’s difficult to explain, but perhaps this lady would know. Necromancers also deal with souls, after all.”
Why am I suddenly involved?! I don’t know anything!
I froze, unable to answer, but Hamilton pressed on.
“When a soul is summoned, doesn’t it go through a stage of submission to the summoner?”
“Uh… yes?”
“Living souls — especially those capable of magic — don’t submit easily. That’s why soul-binding is considered difficult. Even among the dead, some spirits refuse to obey their summoner.”
That much, I knew was true, so I nodded.
Subjugating a living soul was far trickier than commanding the dead.
Though Hamilton looked like a wreck now, he’d once been a high-level dark magician.
Soul-summoning and necromancy are different arts, but both involve domination and control.
When John called him aside that day, Hamilton had apparently known what was coming — that John would try to bind his soul.
Confident he could resist, he went along. But the moment John began the summoning… he couldn’t refuse.
“I’d never felt anything like it before. Whatever he said, I wanted to obey. I wanted to make him happy — even if it meant offering myself to the Demon King. I don’t know why I felt that way.”
By the time he finished, his tone was full of regret.
If someone only heard the last sentence, they’d think he was talking about a bad breakup.
Wanting to do anything to make the other person happy…
That doesn’t sound like loyalty. That sounds like— love?
Wait, what? Why is love suddenly entering the chat?!
And he felt it before the obedience stage? That’s not normal.
As I pondered this, Castian seemed to share my concern. His voice came out urgent.
“Is it normal to feel such emotions when under soul-binding?”
Hamilton frowned, then turned to me again, desperate.
“I’m not sure. Necromancer, do you know anything about this?”
Now all three of them — Castian, Hamilton, and the Saint — were staring at me.
Yes, necromancy and soul-binding are related arts.
Yes, I’d once bound Castian’s soul.
But that doesn’t mean I understand how it works!
“Uh… I’m not really well-versed in soul-binding either.”
Caught under three pairs of expectant eyes, I shook my head, feeling like I was on trial.
Hamilton and Irine accepted it easily, but Castian’s expression only grew more serious.
He asked again, almost as if something were chasing him,
“Even now, after the binding was broken — do you still feel the same emotion?”
“No. I remember the feeling, but it’s not the same. Now, I hate him. He stole everything from me.”
The bitterness in his eyes was a far cry from his earlier dreamy admiration.
At that, Castian’s face finally relaxed.
“…I see.”
He exhaled softly — almost like a sigh of relief — then turned to me and smiled faintly.
A beautiful, gentle smile.
But for the life of me, I couldn’t figure out why.
