Chapter 16
The wolf looked around cautiously, its body tense with wariness, then quietly lay down in front of me.
Marcus stared back and forth between me and the wolf’s spirit, confusion tightening his brows.
> “A necromancer…?”
His seemingly kind green eyes turned dark with disgust.
I had braced myself, but facing such blatant hostility still struck fear in me. I couldn’t meet Marcus’ gaze and lowered my head. That was when Castian stepped forward.
Even when Bacchus had insulted me openly, Castian had remained impassive. But now, his demeanor had completely changed. His piercing, frosty eyes seemed sharp enough to cut Marcus in two.
> “My beloved brings life to the dead, while you allow the living to die. There is no reason for your eyes to be so insolent.”
Marcus endured Castian’s killing intent in silence. Perhaps he was checking if Castian was still in his right mind—wondering how he could possibly take the necromancer’s side.
Then, with a chillingly cold voice, Marcus struck where it hurt most.
> “You’re toying with death.”
> “And you, who toyed with life with your petty talents—were you not?”
Castian fired back without even pausing to breathe.
He must have been furious about Marcus’ dismissive attitude earlier—refusing to help, demanding letters of recommendation. Even Castian, despite all his resentment toward the nobility, had found Marcus’ behavior infuriating.
If I hadn’t been driven to it, would I ever have used necromancy on a poor wolf?
Do they really think I’m ignorant of the fact that necromancy is a violation of death itself?
But this is all the power I have—what else could I have done?
As I struggled to justify my choices, the warmth of Castian’s hand steadied me. But Marcus, as if reading my thoughts, drew a harsh line.
> “It’s not the same. Black magic is an unforgivable power.”
An unforgivable power. An unforgivable existence.
He was denying me—my entire being—right to my face, and I couldn’t say a word in return.
After all, even I believed necromancy was a power that should not exist.
As I lowered my already half-bowed head further, Castian’s cold voice cut through the silence.
> “If the world’s destruction is considered divine will, then why is Lydia’s power not the providence of God?”
> “…That’s absurd.”
Marcus flared up, but his voice trailed off.
Not because he agreed with Castian, but because he realized his own words were absurd too.
God created the world; the demons sought to destroy it.
How could passively letting the world rot ever be God’s will?
As a priest, Marcus had just committed a grave blunder.
He let out a heavy sigh and silently stared at the wolf spirit, his gaze conflicted.
Sensing hostility in Marcus’ posture, the wolf bared its fangs at him, protective.
Raised from death without knowing why, this creature—who had come all this way to help Marcus save the wolves of the Golden Forest—was now standing guard over me instead.
Not only Marcus, but even I was overwhelmed by the irony.
I reached out and gently stroked the wolf’s soft fur.
> “It’s okay.”
With a soft whimper, the wolf leaned into my leg and wagged its tail.
I felt guilt and gratitude, sin and responsibility—all at once.
Even if I am a wicked necromancer,
I will return this wolf to peaceful rest—because it answered my call.
Filling my lungs with a deep breath, I lifted my head.
> “Whatever I may be, you must keep your promise. Once the wolf cub is returned to its family, Castian…”
Raising my chin, I looked Marcus straight in the eyes.
> “…You will save him.”
After a moment of hesitation, Marcus turned away and answered quietly.
> “I will keep my promise.”
No more words followed.
With Castian and me, Marcus holding the cub, and Eiden alongside the wolf spirit, we all mounted our horses.
Led by the wolf spirit, we entered the depths of the forest.
As we neared the heart of the woods, the spirit lifted its head and sniffed the air.
Then suddenly, it raised its snout and howled long and loud.
The wolf cub, nestled in Marcus’ arms, joined in, as if claiming its identity:
> “Awooooo—!”
“Auuuung!”
Not long after, a distant answering howl echoed back through the forest.
The cub wriggled free from Marcus’ arms and scanned the surroundings, seeking the direction of the sound.
The spirit wolf gently nudged the cub’s back with its snout, showing the way, but the cub barked back stubbornly.
I smiled and asked the spirit wolf,
> “Take it home to its family, please.”
Obediently, the wolf picked the cub up by the scruff and disappeared into the trees.
As I stood there, watching where the wolves had gone, Eiden sidled up and whispered,
> “Don’t let that man’s words get to you. He just doesn’t know Lady Lydia well enough.”
> “What…?”
> “Lord Castian, and even back when Jonathan was alive—you always help people. You’re a kind necromancer, so ignore that bastard.”
A kind necromancer?
What kind of contradiction is that?
More importantly… was this boy trying to comfort me?
He’d been strangely considerate today, but for him to try and console me—it was unimaginable.
Blinking in disbelief, I saw him raise a proud thumbs-up.
What now, a murder threat in disguise?
I quietly hid behind Castian’s back to escape Eiden’s cryptic gestures.
His arm naturally wrapped around me, pulling me close.
Eiden, watching this, beamed like a proud parent.
I didn’t know why he was acting this way. It was strange—and oddly frightening in a whole new way.
The spirit wolf, now alone, returned and sat neatly in front of me like a dog waiting for praise.
> “Did the baby return to its family?”
The wolf barked in reply.
> “I know you probably wanted to return too… I’m sorry. I’ll let you rest now.”
> “Woof!”
The wolf barked again, loudly this time.
I couldn’t understand its words, but it looked happy.
I placed my hand on its head and whispered softly,
> “Eternal rest.”
Its tail wagged one last time as its translucent form shimmered, then gradually faded away.
Back when Jonathan died, I was too buried in guilt to think clearly.
But now, this farewell felt like parting from an old friend.
We buried the wolf priest I had carried from the forest entrance.
Thanks to Eiden’s excavation skills, the grave was quickly dug, and a mound was built.
I laid a small bouquet of wildflowers before the grave, then turned to Marcus, who had been silently watching.
> “Now it’s your turn, Sir Marcus.”
He nodded slowly.
> “Of course. A promise is a promise. Duke, please lie down.”
> “Here? On the ground?”
> “Move elsewhere if you prefer.”
Uncertain whether it was right to make him lie on bare earth, I looked to Castian. But he was already seated, reaching out to me.
Resolute, I took his hand.
If Marcus’ healing power truly wasn’t divine, then maybe it wouldn’t hurt him.
But if anything went wrong—if Castian’s soul slipped away before his body revived—it would be disastrous.
Every time we’d involved a god, things had never gone smoothly.
As anxiety gnawed at me, Castian seemed to sense my fear and said calmly:
> “Don’t worry. His healing doesn’t come from divine power.”
> “He’s… a rare case. It’s why the high priest couldn’t keep him tied to the temple.”
> “Really? I thought all priests used divine power.”
Castian glanced at Marcus as he said that, but Marcus pretended not to hear.
He was a priest in name only—nothing about him was ordinary.
Still, if it meant Castian wouldn’t be hurt, that was enough for me.
Castian laid flat on the ground and spoke.
> “Begin.”
> “Undo the stasis magic first.”
Castian gave a slight nod.
> “It’s done.”
The moment he spoke, Marcus placed his hand over Castian’s chest.
White light spread from his palm, quickly enveloping Castian’s entire body.
Even my hands, still holding his, were swallowed by the radiance.
Time passed. Sweat glistened on Marcus’ forehead.
But Castian didn’t move—he lay motionless like a corpse.
> “Duke? Why… why isn’t he waking up?”
> “This is my first time treating someone whose heart had stopped. Let’s wait.”
> “Wait?! You said you’d save him! You’re supposed to be a sage who brings the dead back to life!”
Panicking, I reached for Marcus’ collar, but just then, Castian’s body jerked.
A fit of violent coughing followed.
Then, with a deeply furrowed brow, his eyes slowly opened.
Marcus exhaled and withdrew his hand. The white light vanished like mist.
Rising slowly, Castian blinked a few times as if trying to regain focus.
> “Duke! Are you okay? Are you really… alive?”
> “…Lydia.”
His deep blue eyes—like the ocean—reflected my face.
And in a voice as sweet as honey, he called my name.
