The battlefield pulsed around a single nexus—Rüdiger, floating above the carnage, fire flaring from his hands as undead surged like waves beneath him. The horde parted before him like a tide. Adarin frowned.
The skeletal constructs dragging him across the ground suddenly veered to avoid what looked like a tree—except it wasn’t. It had once been an orc, grotesquely transformed into a tree-like shape, its trunk still bearing traces of the creature’s anatomy. The air vibrated with a low hum, as if the wood itself was alive and groaning. It pulsed with the same green light that suffused the pillars stretching to the horizon.
Adarin ground his teeth in his digital combat space. So I’ve been out. And we’ve been running.
After a quick scan, he found Johan and Liora weaving their way through the cordon of undead. The necromancers moved in rhythmic waves, halting at regular intervals to revive fallen greenskins or reanimate broken corpses.
He shrugged. Well, at least Liora is over her squeaminess. Still can’t fucking speak with her, though.
The ground shook.
A flash of green light erupted behind them. Necromancers screamed, diving for cover behind their undead minions. The corpses absorbed the brunt of the wooden shrapnel and falling debris, either pressing on or collapsing where they stood.
Rüdiger stopped mid-air, a bluish light encasing him in a protective shimmer. Next he slowly descended toward the ground.
Adarin studied the man and frowned. Where the hell did he get a new trench coat? How long was I out?
He was dragged into a nearby building—an old warehouse, judging by the crumbling shelves and scattered crates. Inside, Rüdiger, Liora, and several dozen necromancers gathered in a tight cluster.
Rüdiger hovered above them, his boots a meter off the ground. The black metal-clad skeletons that had carried Adarin in dropped him off unceremoniously, then took up guard positions.
Rüdiger stroked his goatee, hovering above the silent gathering. “Tja. We survived. But only just.”
He caught himself mid-thought, glancing around at his audience— “honored members of the Order. I assume an enemy ritual has been triggered. The World Tree has been revived. Any mage above level twenty-five has either been killed or disempowered. The Crusade is likely in disarray. I may be the last surviving member of the upper echelon.”
The dark green-clad necromancers shifted uncomfortably. Men and women of all ages and builds, each one bore the deep weariness of long, relentless battle.
While Rüdiger spoke, Adarin slipped into the limited protocol database of his implant. He searched for several seconds—then smiled. Found you.
It was a simple vibration protocol. He activated it, using the interface between the diamondoid sphere and the surrounding wood to form a membrane.
“TEST,” Adarin barked, the word booming like a cannon-shot. The resonance startled even him. Nearby necromancers yelped and jumped back. Even Rüdiger floated half a meter up into surprise. The room froze—half laughter, half alarm—before tension bled back into the circle.
The eccentric necromancer recovered instantly, bowing in mid-air with a theatrical swirl of his head.
“Greetings, greetings! My esteemed colleagues allow me to introduce Adarin. One of our newest recruits—and a skilled tactician. In my absence, feel free to take orders from him.”
He clapped his hands together. “Now, where was I?”
Adarin grimaced, then shrugged, transmitting the gesture through the quadrupedal spider-body he inhabited—the shell of polished wood and arcane fiber. He selected ten percent of the energy he’d used earlier and activated the vocal system.
“Greetings. It is nice to finally speak to you all.” The voice came out robotic—wooden in more ways than one. He began setting up a routine to analyze the audio output and adjust it toward something closer to natural speech.
Liora stepped forward. For a moment, she raised her arms as if to hug him—then froze, staring at the polished wood shell instead of a human chest. Her hands trembled, then dropped back to her sides.
Adarin smirked. He raised one limb—leg? Arm? He tilted his head, then settled on manipulator. The manipulator tapped her gently on the thigh. Her lips pressed tight, as if fighting the urge to cry at the reminder he wasn’t flesh anymore.
“It is a pleasure to finally meet you, Liora. I hope you have successfully...”
He glanced around. The necromancers were watching him like hawks.
“...survived that madness,” he finished, scanning the group.
If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.
Liora squatted down in front of him. “Thank you. I have. I haven’t really had time to think about all of it yet.”
Rüdiger descended behind her, arms spread wide in a grand gesture to the assembled necromancers.
“This is not a public performance. We empower the surviving zombies. We organize the units. We escaped—but don’t make the mistake of thinking the battle is over.” He lowered his voice. “It’s time for the final push.”
Rüdiger squatted down beside the pair, grinning broadly.
“Nun, nun. The two of you are initiated, ja?”
He didn’t wait for an answer. Instead, he steepled his fingers, the smile sharp and deliberate—more like a chessmaster preparing a sacrifice than a buffoon.
“Very good, very good.”
Liora cleared her throat. “Well, yes. I hope we made the right choices.”
Rüdiger gestured toward her arm and then at Adarin. She pressed her fingertip to a small eye-shaped mark inked onto her skin. The ink shifted, forming swirling script.
Level: 3 [F]
Class: Acolyte of Ishna, Cycle of Life
COG: 113 MOV: 73 RES: 130 PER: 137 SOC: 88 FREE: 6
Rüdiger smiled. “Decent values for someone just initiated.”
She smiled at the praise—until his next words flattened the expression.
“You will put the six free points into Movement, ja?”
Liora’s mouth fell open. She glared at him. Rüdiger, suddenly preoccupied, began brushing imaginary dust from his shoulders.
Adarin glanced between the two of them. Movement. Her worst stat. Fitness is important in combat. Let’s see if I can head this off.
He spoke, voice still wooden and stilted. “He is right. You need to survive on the battlefield.”
Liora’s jaw clicked shut. Her lips pressed together into a thin line.
Adarin suppressed a chuckle. Ah. The age when disobedience feels like identity. Useful—if it doesn’t get her killed. Apparently, they don’t condition that out of people here.
Rüdiger turned toward her slowly. “Would you like me to show you how to do it?”
Liora visibly ground her teeth. Adarin noted she had been issued one of the verdant necromancer robes. She’s fitting right in.
She exhaled sharply and tapped MOV six times. The number ticked up with each press. Her face twisted into a grimace as something shifted beneath her skin.
Rüdiger reached toward her shoulder—she slapped his hand away before he made contact.
Her shoulders squared. She met his gaze defiantly. “You want results? Fine. Watch this.”
Without waiting, she drew a small knife and cut her palm. Blood welled up—then paused as she stared at it, silent and focused.
The blood vanished into the wound.
A wave of iridescent scales flowed outward from her hand, cascading up her arm. The scales shimmered in every hue of the rainbow. Wherever they passed, Adarin could see the tension bleeding from her muscles.
She smiled.
“It’s beautiful. It’s... alive,” she whispered, eyes wide. “And it’s part of me.”
Adarin nodded—quietly, in the privacy of his mind.
“Draconically aspected magic,” Rüdiger murmured. Something flickered in his eyes—covetous, hungry. It sent a chill down Adarin’s spine.
A moment later, Rüdiger schooled his expression back into his usual, slightly absent smile. “And what implants did you choose?”
Liora swiped the ink to the side. The text shifted again.
Implants:
? Combat Meditation Module (COG)
Lesser Tier 1
Speeds up perception of events in lethal situations by 100% and increases cognitive clarity. (Trainable)
- Reinforced Bones (RES)
Lesser Tier 1
Composite weave to your bones, increasing damage resistance by 100%. - Arcane Eye (PER)
Lesser Tier 1
Divination core tier × 2 per day. See magical structures for core tier minutes.
Long seconds passed in silence. Neither Rüdiger nor Adarin said a word.
Liora shifted uneasily, glancing between them—then quickly swiped the ink again, bringing up her skill set.
Skills:
? Raise Zombie
Necromancy – Middle Tier 1
Raise a corpse by hijacking its motor functions. Control capacity for undead scales with Necromancy Core Tier:
– Fine control: Necromancy Core Tier
– Sophisticated control: Necromancy Core Tier × 10
– General control: Necromancy Core Tier × 100
- Regenerative Transfusion
Alteration – Lesser Tier 1
Transfuse Alteration Core Tier drops of blood into up to (Core Tier × 10) targets.
Each drop grants regenerative healing based on the target’s body plan, effective against all injuries for (Core Tier × 30) minutes.
You may also consume the drop yourself for a temporary regeneration boost.
“Good, good,” Rüdiger murmured and ruffled Liora’s hair.
A flash of fury crossed her face. She flinched back, eyes narrowing. Rüdiger froze—just for a moment—then cleared his throat and turned away. But the look that flickered in his eyes was cold calculation, as if he were already cataloging how to use her defiance. For fucks sake. Is this man even capable of normal social interaction?
Before the silence could grow heavier, shouts rang out from the entrance of the storehouse.
A young man in hardened leather armor—a human—was dragged forward. His eyes darted around in panic, flicking between the skeletal guards and the necromancers closing in around him.
A gray-haired woman stepped toward him, expression grim.
“Speak, Harold,” she snapped.
“I…” He gasped for breath, sweat streaking his forehead. He wiped it with a trembling hand. “Orders. You are to assemble at the Eastern Gates—war council. All surviving factions in the city have been summoned. You are to attend immediately.”
Rüdiger rose smoothly into the air, arms behind his back.
“Am I now,” he drawled. The messenger swallowed and stepped back. The chamber erupted in murmurs—necromancers shifting uneasily, the word factions passing like a curse through the ranks.
Thanks for reading — let me know in the comments what you thought about the chapter!
Upload Schedule: Mon–Fri at 4:47 PM EST / 10:47 PM CET
Want more? Join my Patreon for up to 30 extra chapters (6 weeks ahead):