Episode 7
I hesitantly approached the bed where Jonathan’s corpse lay.
Eden lifted the white cloth that had been covering him, revealing Jonathan’s blood-soaked upper body.
“Gasp.”
I covered my mouth with my hand and instinctively stepped back.
This was the first time in my life seeing a dead person this close.
I mean, Castian had technically “died,” too, but this… this was someone truly gone.
Of course, until just yesterday, I was living peacefully in modern-day South Korea—a world where even censored images of corpses were hard to come by.
As I stood there trembling with my eyes squeezed shut, Eden’s cold voice pressed me forward.
“What are you doing? Just do what you did with Lord Castian yesterday.”
I wanted to scream That wasn’t really me! But obviously, he wouldn’t believe me.
I wanted to cry. Seriously.
When I opened my eyes just a sliver and looked toward Castian, he was also waiting—expecting me to get started with necromancy.
I guess this is the only way someone like me, a necromancer, could be of help to him.
Would he maybe start trusting me a little if this worked?
I took a deep breath and reached out over Jonathan’s corpse.
The knowledge of how to perform necromancy was already in my head.
I channeled the magical energy flowing through my body to my fingertips and whispered, my voice trembling,
“Answer my call.”
Jonathan’s body became enveloped in a violet mist.
Moments later, something that was both Jonathan and not Jonathan rose from the corpse.
It was his spirit, called forth in his living form, responding to my summon.
The spirit of Jonathan blinked in confusion for a brief moment as he stared at his own body lying lifeless on the bed.
Then, he turned to me and dropped to one knee.
“My liege.”
“Wha—?! N-No, I’m not your liege or anything like that.”
Startled, I tried to help him up, but I couldn’t bring myself to touch him. My arms just flailed awkwardly.
Jonathan bowed completely, lowering his head to the ground and even kissed the top of my foot.
“Give me your command, my liege.”
“Oh no, please don’t do this!”
It was bad enough that I had summoned the dead. Having him act like this made it unbearable.
I backed away and knelt in front of him, pleading earnestly.
“Please, just… stand up. I’m begging you.”
“I obey.”
Thankfully, Jonathan rose to his feet in his transparent form.
Even though I had knowledge of what to expect, seeing it with my own eyes was something else.
His spirit was translucent, tinged in a mix of gray and blue. Though called a spirit, he had physical strength—enough to wield a sword or throw punches. And yes, he could also “die” again.
Though in this case, it wouldn’t be death but obliteration.
If a summoned spirit takes a blow too strong to bear, their soul gets dragged into eternal abyssal nothingness.
Still, despite that, the spirits answer their necromancer’s call with unwavering loyalty.
Just like Jonathan now.
I now understood why necromancers were so feared and hated.
Jonathan would obey my commands without question—even if it meant the end of his soul.
That kind of loyalty was far heavier—and more terrifying—than death.
Necromancers truly are cursed beings.
Unable to meet Jonathan’s eyes, I looked away.
“Jonathan.”
Castian called out to him, but Jonathan didn’t even flinch. His gaze remained fixed solely on me.
Avoiding his gaze, I said,
“Jonathan, you know the Duke, don’t you?”
“He was my superior in life. But now, I serve only you, my liege.”
“No, no, you don’t have to serve me. Just answer the Duke’s questions, and I’ll let you return to your rest.”
“I obey.”
Jonathan bowed his head deeply and turned toward Castian.
There was a complex expression in Castian’s eyes as he looked at his once-loyal subordinate—now turned into a spirit soldier.
It must’ve been chilling, realizing that he could’ve ended up like this, too.
I couldn’t bring myself to look at him.
“Jonathan, what happened in the imperial palace? Who did this to you?”
“There was a black mage hiding among the imperial court wizards. I reported it to High Mage Haggis and was on my way to inform Lord Castian when I was attacked.”
“Who? Who attacked you?”
“I couldn’t confirm. But I suspect it was the black mage whose identity I discovered.”
“I see… You did well, Jonathan.”
Castian spoke with a bitter voice and gently patted Jonathan’s shoulder.
There was sorrow and regret in his eyes—guilt for failing to protect his subordinate.
But Jonathan didn’t react at all, even to that heartfelt gaze.
“Give me your next command, my liege.”
I looked to Castian, unsure of what to do next.
Fortunately, he slowly shook his head.
“There’s no next command, Jonathan. It’s time for you to return to your rest.”
Even after a necromancer cancels their summoning, the spirit remains bound to them.
They can be summoned again at any time and will obey until the moment their soul fades.
But there’s one exception—if the necromancer who summoned them first severs all ties, the soul can finally rest in peace.
Jonathan raised his head to look at me.
Even though spirits have no expressions, I felt as if I could see one on his face.
He knelt once more and kissed the top of my foot again.
“Thank you, merciful liege.”
I wanted to tell him to get up, but my throat tightened. I barely managed to whisper a quiet “I’m sorry.”
Then I recited the release chant.
“May you rest in eternal peace.”
Jonathan’s spirit, still kneeling with lips pressed to my foot, slowly faded away.
I collapsed to the floor where I stood.
My body was fine, but my heart was exhausted.
I had grumbled about being possessed by a necromancer, but part of me had thought maybe it was a good thing.
After all, thanks to entering Lydia’s body, Castian had gotten a second chance at life.
So focused on saving him, I hadn’t really stopped to think about what it meant to live as a necromancer.
But this… this was horrifying.
“Death soldier” my foot. This was worse than slavery.
No wonder people threw stones at necromancers in disgust.
Using the dead like this? I’d deserve it too.
Reading about black magic in novels never felt this real. But now, fury boiled inside me.
And I was the necromancer who deserved those stones.
Why is my life like this?!
As I rolled on the floor in misery, Castian knelt down beside me.
“Lydia, is your head hurting?”
Not my head—my whole life hurts.
I sniffled and just looked at him.
He held out his hand.
“Can you stand?”
“No.”
Whether you’re the male lead or my favorite, please just leave me alone right now.
I may have brought you back to life, but I’ve lost all strength to live mine.
I curled up, hugging my knees, and turned my back to him.
He let out a small sigh—and suddenly, my body was lifted into the air.
Castian told Eden to check on the palace and prepare Jonathan’s funeral, then strode out without hesitation.
He carried me so naturally that it took me a moment to realize what was happening.
I clasped my hands tightly in front of my chest, frozen in place. It took me a while to speak.
“I can walk, you know.”
“Stay still. You don’t look well.”
You’re one to talk about appearances. You’re the one who was literally dead!
“I’m really fine.”
“I’m not.”
“…What?”
The male lead just said he’s not fine.
Startled, I wriggled to get down, but Castian held my shoulders firmly.
“Stay still. I’m already troubled enough.”
His cold tone left me speechless.
I was just as troubled, so I stopped resisting and let myself be carried.
Even after he laid me on the bed, he didn’t release me from his arms.
“The death soldiers… how many can a necromancer command?”
“It depends on their magical power. I’ve heard of necromancers commanding over a hundred at once.”
“And you? How many do you have?”
“Me? None right now. I don’t plan on using necromancy anymore.”
Maybe because my soul had replaced Lydia’s, all previous ties with death soldiers had been severed.
I didn’t retain her personal memories either, but she must’ve commanded quite a few.
Realizing I’d possessed the body of someone who did that… was crushing.
I just wanted a moment to mourn in silence, but Castian had more questions.
“So I’m the only one?”
“You were soul-summoned. That’s different from being a death soldier.”
“I researched. Necromancy and soul summoning are essentially the same. The only difference is whether the soul was living or dead when summoned.”
“Well… I mean, technically, yes…”
“So I’m the only one.”
“…Yes. But… you’re a little too close right now.”
Not only that, but the position was… awkward.
His left arm was still wrapped behind my neck as I lay there, looking up at him.
“I see.”
Castian calmly acknowledged it.
Yeah. You’re too close.
So why aren’t you moving?!
