Episode 67: The Traitor (2)

The moment she heard the name “Necromancer,” something deep within Agnes erupted.

Before her mind could process it, her body moved instinctively, lunging toward the Necromancer.

But in that instant, Margata grabbed Agnes by the head and slammed her to the ground.

“Agnes, calm down,” Margata said in a cold voice.

Unlike Agnes, whose face was twisted with rage, Margata stared at the Necromancer with icy composure.

“This is the Necromancer’s dungeon. Lose your head, and you’ll become prey,” Margata warned, helping Agnes regain her senses.

The Necromancer looked at Agnes with a voice so gentle it was hard to believe it belonged to a notorious dark sorcerer. “You seem to have a grudge against me, young knight. Care to share why? I have so many enemies, it’s hard to keep track.”

“Do you remember Palmer Village?” Agnes’s voice was hoarse, strained with suppressed fury.

“Palmer Village? Of course, I remember. I personally decorated that place,” the Necromancer replied, each word a dagger to Agnes’s heart. She barely held herself back, recalling Margata’s advice.

“I’m a survivor of that village.”

“A survivor…? I ordered everyone to be killed. How could there be a survivor…?” The Necromancer’s expression momentarily went blank.

Seeing the shock on that wretched face, Agnes felt a slight release of the tension that had been choking her.

“Now do you understand why I’m here? Today, I will kill you and avenge my brother and the villagers…”

“Remarkable… truly remarkable! Not only did you survive my creations, but you became a knight to hunt me down!” The Necromancer suddenly burst into applause, trembling with delight.

“What an unexpected gift! This is why life is so thrilling! Ah… when I think about it, the people of Palmer Village were all gifts to me. They provided such excellent materials.”

Materials.

The word made Agnes’s body go rigid.

“What… what are you saying…?”

“Oh, you didn’t know? I suppose you wouldn’t. They were all undead, rotting away, so it wouldn’t have been obvious,” the Necromancer continued with a warm smile.

“I never kill people without purpose. I try to use them as materials whenever possible. After killing the villagers, I set aside usable body parts before resurrecting them as undead.”

Agnes’s entire body began to tremble.

Oblivious, the Necromancer rambled on, excitedly. “Even the flesh golems your squad killed were made from them. I never waste a single piece of material, so I remember it all clearly. Want me to tell you more?”

A blue flame erupted from Agnes, illuminating the dark cave in an instant.

“Enough,” Agnes’s voice echoed through the cavern.

“I’ll burn you to ashes, every last piece, so you can never commit such atrocities again.”

---

They say when a person’s anger reaches its peak, they become eerily calm.

Agnes’s explosive rage had the opposite effect, cooling her mind to a sharp focus.

“Agnes, I’ll charge in first. Cover me,” Margata said, clenching her knuckles. Agnes nodded.

“Our goal is to reach the Necromancer as quickly as possible. This is his dungeon; who knows what tricks he has up his sleeve. If we delay, it could turn against us.”

Margata’s destructive power was among the best of the second-tier knights. If they could just get close, turning the Necromancer to ash would be a matter of moments.

“Let’s begin,” Margata said, igniting a blue flame as she dashed forward.

Despite her massive, muscular frame, Margata moved with the grace and speed of a panther.

“Stop them.”

Flesh golems rained down from the ceiling, each one uniquely grotesque.

Margata collided with the golems, triggering a series of explosions. Her accelerated punches shattered the golems into pieces, each strike as lethal as the last.

The Necromancer watched Margata with admiration. “Magnificent! Such a sturdy body! You’ll make excellent material!”

Just then, spider-like flesh golems crawled along the ceiling, reaching above Margata’s head.

They fired spikes at her, but Agnes intercepted them all just in time.

“That’s my sister!” Margata shouted joyfully.

With Agnes covering her back, Margata could focus solely on the front. Her punches grew even faster, relentlessly destroying the golems.

Eventually, only the Necromancer remained.

“Stand still! I’ll give you a hit you’ll never forget!” Margata charged at the Necromancer, but something blocked her path.

It looked entirely human, so much so that if not for the stitches covering its body, it would have been impossible to tell it was a flesh golem.

“You think this weakling can stop me?” Margata redirected her punch at the golem.

The moment her fist connected, something unbelievable happened.

The blue flame enveloping her fist vanished.

”…What?”

Without the divine power, her knuckles were just ordinary metal. They failed to break through the golem’s body.

Margata tried to summon her divine power again, but the golem struck her abdomen first.

”…Ugh!”

The divine protection around her body dissipated like smoke.

The punch pierced her armor, crushing her insides. The impact reverberated through her back.

“Sister!”

Margata’s body was flung away. Agnes leaped into the air to catch her.

“Cough, cough…”

Margata spat out black blood, a sign that her internal injuries were critical.

“Sister! Stay with me! Sister!” Agnes frantically infused Margata with divine power, but her expression remained pained.

“Ah… truly amazing…” The Necromancer suddenly knelt on the ground, clasping his hands as if in prayer.

“To possess such incredible abilities! How great must the one who created this be!”

Agnes desperately worked to heal Margata, pouring potions and divine power into her. Only then did Margata’s expression ease slightly.

“Agnes… run…” Margata whispered weakly.

“Something’s… wrong… the Necromancer… did something strange… you must escape… and warn the main force…”

Divine power is supposed to have absolute superiority over dark magic.

That was the common belief, the truth. But it had just been overturned.

“I’ll hold him off… while you… escape…”

Agnes hesitated, her eyes filled with conflict.

Run away with her enemy right in front of her? Abandon her sister?

”…No. I can’t do that.”

Margata’s face twisted with anger at Agnes’s words.

“Agnes!”

“We can’t escape anyway.”

By now, they were surrounded by flesh golems.

What Margata had destroyed was just the tip of the iceberg. The Necromancer had far more golems at his disposal.

“Sister, I’ve told you about my brother, haven’t I?”

What was she trying to say?

Margata wanted nothing more than to get Agnes to safety.

But Agnes’s eyes were filled with such determination that she could only watch.

“My brother died protecting me and the village. He could have run and survived, but he didn’t.”

Agnes had become a knight for revenge.

And because of her brother. Because he had died so nobly, protecting others as a knight.

“If I can’t escape, I’d rather die fighting. I will fulfill the will of the gods, just like my brother.”

The gods had spoken.

The reason they bestowed power upon you is to help the weak.

The reason they granted you strength is to drive out heretics.

The reason they allowed you power is to fulfill their will.

“Ah… magnificent… to witness such a splendid material…” The Necromancer gazed at Agnes with awe.

“Showing such bravery makes me curious. How long can you maintain that courage?”

Something emerged from the ranks of flesh golems. It was a human-shaped golem.

“Release them.”

The human-like golems began to transform, changing from human to monster.

A chillingly powerful aura spread in all directions.

Agnes and Margata’s faces hardened instantly.

“This can’t be…”

Of the two, Margata was more shocked.

“Those… they’re all mid-class level…”

The greatest mistake of the Order.

It wasn’t failing to anticipate the Necromancer’s trap, nor was it not foreseeing the existence of a device that could nullify divine power.

The greatest oversight was underestimating the Necromancer’s true strength.

“These are my ‘masterpieces.’ Creating them was no easy feat.”

The voice of the Necromancer was filled with pride, like an artist showing off their finest work.

“Do you still think you can stand against me after seeing this?”

Margarita’s knuckles slipped from her grasp, crushed by a wave of despair that extinguished her fighting spirit.

“Agnes… this can’t be happening…”

Even Margarita, once hailed as a fearless warrior, was reduced to a mere human in the face of such horror.

Agnes’s face was as cold and unyielding as ice.

She had vowed to carry out the will of the divine, just as her late brother had.

With a determined breath, she summoned her holy power. Amidst the dark energy emanating from the flesh golems, a small blue flame flickered to life.

“Agnes…”

Margarita called out her sister’s name, her voice tinged with sorrow. It dawned on her that, unlike her own trembling resolve, Agnes’s eyes were unwavering.

In that moment, light burst forth from Agnes’s body.

The flesh golems shrieked and recoiled from the searing radiance.

“My God…”

Margarita murmured in disbelief at the sight.

The path to power for a paladin was unlike that of a knight. Their strength came from the divine.

Paladins proved their faith to receive divine power, elevating their status. This could be through prayer, penance, or hunting heretics. Sometimes, they were blessed with immense power, a phenomenon known as the Stigmata.

Agnes waved her hand lightly, and a series of explosions followed.

The flesh golems surrounding her were obliterated in the blasts.

“Agnes…!”

Margarita looked at her with awe.

With a single display of power, over ten flesh golems were reduced to ashes.

A second-class paladin. No, she was no longer just that. Agnes was on the brink of becoming a first-class paladin.

She advanced toward the Necromancer, her eyes filled with a deadly resolve.

“Impressive. To witness the Stigmata again!”

The Necromancer clapped his hands in delight.

Agnes ignored his words, her focus solely on her mission.

“In Palmer Village, a third-class paladin like you suddenly grew powerful with the Stigmata.”

But his next words stopped her in her tracks.

“I was so surprised then… I almost lost all my flesh golems. Luckily, I managed to subdue him by taking the villagers hostage.”

Margarita stared at the Necromancer, her eyes beginning to waver.

“Subduing that paladin was a triumph. He was the finest material I’ve ever had! The flesh golem I created from him was exceptional!”

The Necromancer nodded with satisfaction.

“Now that I think about it, your face seems familiar… Where have I seen it before… Kite, come here.”

The flesh golem that had wounded Margarita approached the Necromancer.

He began to remove the cloth covering the golem’s face.

As the cloth fell away, Agnes’s heart sank deeper into denial.

But when the face was fully revealed, she could no longer escape the truth.

“Brother…”

The face was exactly as she remembered, untouched by time, as if he might come to life at any moment.

“Brother? No wonder you looked familiar. Fate is a strange thing, isn’t it?”

Agnes clutched her head and let out a heart-wrenching scream.

When her cries subsided, her face was stained with tears and fury.

“I will… kill you… no matter what…!”

“Splendid.”

The Necromancer’s smile widened.

“Such excellent material, steeped in profound despair… I could create a puppet even greater than Kite with you.”

“Shut your mouth!”

Agnes charged at the Necromancer, her rage uncontainable.

Kite blocked her path. Agnes hesitated.

“Oh…”

Kite kicked her in the side.

The holy power protecting her dissipated upon impact.

Agnes was flung like a ragdoll, crashing into the wall.

“Cough, cough…”

She lay on the ground, blood spilling from her lips.

The force of the golem’s blow had ruptured her internal organs.

A shadow loomed over her. Kite was already upon her.

“Brother…”

Kite grabbed her face and slammed it into the ground.

The impact rattled her brain. She couldn’t even groan.

“Agnes!”

Margarita rushed toward her, but other flesh golems blocked her way.

“Get out of my way!”

She summoned her holy power, reopening her barely healed wounds.

Black blood poured from her mouth as she collapsed to the ground.

The Necromancer approached Agnes, who was still catching her breath in Kite’s grip.

“You’ll make a magnificent specimen.”

He looked down at her with a sinister grin.

“How should I use you? Create a new flesh golem? No, there’s a better way…”

Lost in thought, the Necromancer clapped his hands with glee.

“Yes! What if I combine you with Kite? Being siblings, there should be no rejection. Isn’t it a brilliant idea?”

Agnes glared at him silently, tears beginning to stream down her face.

“Yes, cry. Cry all you want. After today, you won’t have the chance.”

The Necromancer laughed maniacally.

“Let’s go. There’s much to prepare to make you into material…”

His ears twitched.

A distant explosion echoed through the air.

“Seems there are still living paladins out there?”

He dismissed it as unimportant. Another explosion followed, louder this time.

“More survivors than I thought?”

Again, he shrugged it off. But then another explosion, even closer.

“What the hell…”

The explosions came in rapid succession, each one louder and nearer.

Boom.

The entire cave shook. Dust trickled from the walls.

Boom.

The cave trembled more violently. The explosion sounded as if it were right next to them.

And then, with a deafening roar, the wall crumbled.

Debris cascaded down, and atop the rubble stood a man.

“Damn, this place is deep.”

He dusted off his dirt-covered clothes.

The Necromancer recognized him immediately. He was the first target he had marked among the hunting party.

“There you are, you filthy bastard.”

Damian Haxen.

He stood atop the pile of stones, glaring down at the Necromancer.