Monarch Chapter 76

Chapter 76

Varrick reacted instantly.

The force shield vanished with a soft crackle, the light dying as if snuffed out, and he stepped back without a word. Rayne mirrored the movement at once, both of them retreating just far enough to slip into the shadow of the corridor’s edge while keeping the chamber in view.

They even held their breath as they watched the woman step fully into the room.

She was tall and lean, draped in a long, dark robe that barely brushed the blood-slick floor. Her hair was jet black, falling straight down her back with a nosepin made out of bone. And in her left hand, Rayne saw heavy rings made up of silver and something darker that seemed to swallow the light around it.

He didn't need to ask who she was. It was obvious at a glance.

She was the necromancer.

As he watched, she yawned as if she had just woken up from a nap, then her attention went straight to the mangled stonefur bear corpse. Her lips immediately curled up at the sight of it, and Rayne felt his skin crawl.

The necromancer stopped beside the corpse and raised one hand. A spell matrix formed at the tip of her fingers, death mana surging and condensing into a blade of darkness. She stabbed the air with it as if to test it, and the blade left faint distortions.

Satisfied with it, she knelt.

With practiced ease, she sliced into the bear’s remains, cutting through stitched flesh and the remaining stone plating alike. The blade hummed softly as she worked, carving away ruined sections, severing grafts that had failed. At one point, she stood and turned to pick up some of the dungeon wolf fur that sat right next to the core room door and started to cut through it.

Rayne swallowed, thinking back to the chimera in the bug dungeon, before he saw Varrick's eyes on him.

Slowly, he lifted a finger and gestured back, and Rayne quietly fell back with him. His party sensed that something was wrong, and did the same, taking light steps as they retreated back into the hallway.

Ten minutes passed in tense, measured steps. No one spoke. Every scrape of boot against stone felt too loud to Rayne, and he kept glancing back, half-expecting undead to pour out of the hallway behind them, but nothing followed.

Varrick finally paused and exhaled. “Let me put up a [Sound Barrier] before we talk,” he said.

Mana stirred around them the next second, and two walls of thin translucent barriers covered them between the hallway.

Rayne had no idea Varrick had such a skill, but he was grateful for it.

Bran was the first to speak, looking at him and Varrick. “What's going on? What did you two see?”

“The necromancer,” Rayne said at once. “It was a woman cutting and stitching through the corpse of the female stonefur bear. We saw her emerge out of the dungeon core room.”

At once, all of them paled.

Nate swore under his breath. Kesh stiffened, hand tightening around his sword, while Heins’ legs immediately started shaking. Even Bran looked terrified.

In the past two weeks, any mention of the necromancer had terrified soldiers more than the troll warlord ever had. After all, you could eventually kill a troll, but necromancers were notorious throughout the kingdom. Dying to one was far worse than getting eaten by a monster.

At least then, you would stay dead.

Necromancers simply raised the fallen to be their enemies, and no one wanted such a fate.

“What is the necromancer doing here?” John asked, leaning against the wall. “I thought the army's intelligence said something else.”

“Intelligence isn't always reliable,” Bran said, then looked at Rayne. “Was she alone?”

Rayne nodded. “Yes, but there were at least two dozen undead in the chamber. No idea of what's inside the core room, but something strong, if I have to guess. She seems to be trying to turn the stonefur bear into a chimera, but I don't know how far she has succeeded.”

“She's at the final stretch of it,” Varrick said. “By the way she was working, she probably already had a good idea of the bear’s anatomy, and it has also been more than a few days since she captured it. It will take seconds for her to raise it as a chimera once she's done stitching it together.”

He continued to explain, clearly having a lot of knowledge about what the necromancer was trying to achieve.

According to Varrick, the woman wasn't a pure necromancer.

Instead, she had a class along the lines of a [Flesh Doctor], a necrotic class famous for making chimeras and other unnatural constructs. Although they weren't as powerful as pure necromancers, they were still a handful to deal with.

“I do think she already has one construct made,” he said slowly. “No [Flesh Doctor] moves without one, but adding the stonefur bear on top of it would make her very dangerous. I'm pretty sure she's stitching together the bear with whatever boss monster this dungeon had.”

Nate gulped. “If we hurry, we can get out and inform Commander Evans. And he could come to deal with her with the rest of the captains.”

Rayne nodded, thinking the same. “Yes, I believe Bran can hurry ahead. He's quick, especially in the forest, and once he gets the word back—”

“It won't work,” Varrick interrupted him.

“What do you mean it won't work?” Rayne raised an eyebrow, not having a good feeling. “You don't intend to fight her, right? That's suicidal.”

“No, it's not,” Varrick replied, shaking his head. “I believe it's in our best interest to put her down right now. Getting anyone here would take at least a few hours. And that means she will have her chimera ready. There's no saying she will stay long after that.”

“We can leave behind someone to watch over her.”

Bran agreed with a nod. “Yes, I can do that. If she runs, I will follow.”

Varrick stared at him. “You might be a good ranger, but you will get found and killed. Don't forget that she's stitching together a stonefur bear and a wolf boss monster. That chimera would have a really strong nose—probably the reason she's mixing those monsters together—and I doubt anyone here has a scent concealment potion.”

No one spoke for a while.

The words made sense, and Rayne didn't want to endanger Bran's life with a suicide mission. But the other option was also reckless and would endanger all their lives.

He could see it in Varrick's eyes. They were resolute. The man had already decided to pick up a fight with her. Was it what Shawn felt when Rayne wanted to go deeper to look for his squad? At least he had a good reason to do so.

Here, it simply felt like Varrick wanted to fight her to prove himself to Serene.

That was a horrible reason to risk their lives.

Maybe he realised what Rayne was thinking, as Varrick immediately added, “I wouldn't say that if I wasn't confident enough to kill her.” He frowned. “Necromancers of any kind are a pain to deal with alone, but there's a good chance we could kill her.”

Bran looked between Rayne and Varrick. “How? Commander Evans himself believes that the necromancer leaving behind undead is a very high levelled caster.”

“She's not high levelled. She's level 49,” Varrick replied, shaking his head. “If I didn't know that, I would be running. Not standing here talking to you all.”

“You have a skill that tells you that?” Kesh muttered.

Varrick smiled. “Yes, it's called [Information Analysis]. Every member of the Hand is taught one. And you all saw and fought the undead too. They are low levelled monsters that all of you could kill. The only danger will be from whatever is inside the core room, but I will handle it. A level 49 [Flesh Doctor] isn't hard to kill.”

What Varrick was implying was simple.

He wanted them to take care of the mobs while he took on the [Flesh Doctor] and her chimera. If she was actually level 49, then Rayne also believed that they might be able to take her on.

But could he really trust Varrick? And how much information did his skill give him? Was it only level and class, or even stats? He doubted he could see all that, or Rayne wouldn't be standing here.

But he still decided to test it.

“What's my level?” he asked.

“You are level 29. Pretty impressive for a common [Soldier] class,” he replied immediately, then looked towards the hallway. “Look, the longer we stay here and talk, the smaller our chances to land a sneak attack will be. I will be going to fight her whether you agree or not, but having you and your party would make it easier.”

Rayne immediately felt his party's eyes on him.

As always, it was his decision.

A part of him wanted to go back, but if the necromancer got away, then all the favour he had been gaining would be lost. Moreover, if he left Varrick alone here and he died, there would be more problems to deal with.

In the end, there was only one good choice.

“Okay,” he said. “We take her on. But if it looks like you are losing, we are going to run. It's a straight path to the outside.”

At once, Varrick smiled, while half of his party paled, looking at each other. John shook his head as if he already knew this would happen, and Kesh held his shield closer to his body.

“Good,” Varrick said. “We shouldn't wait then. I will rush at her and start the attack.”

He moved to take a step towards the chamber, but Rayne calmly placed a hand on his shoulder, making him pause.

“We can't be impatient,” he said.

“What?” Varrick frowned. “We already have a plan.”

“No, your plan gives all of us away instantly. There's a better way to ambush her.”

Varrick snorted. “And what is that?”

Rayne didn't reply at once, thinking back to what he had seen in the chamber. Although the necromancer had taken most of his attention, he had still managed to notice a few things in the surroundings.

After piecing together his thoughts, he spoke. “First, we need to send Heins back to report what we found, in case things go wrong. And secondly, I'm not going to be joining the fight. At least not right away. Numbers are our biggest advantage, and we are going to use it.”

***

Nate gaped into the chamber, forcing himself to breathe slowly, evenly, like Bran had taught him weeks ago.

In through the nose. Out through the mouth.

It didn’t help.

The room beyond was wrong. Even from here, crouched low behind Varrick’s broad back and Kesh’s tense silhouette, Nate could feel it. There was something cold in the air and a prickling sensation crawled over his skin. It wasn't mana. He could not feel that. No, it was fear that he felt because of the one single question that kept swirling in his mind.

Am I going to survive the next few hours?

It was a thought he had often in the army. Too often. But today had felt different and safer. Watching Varrick carve through dungeon wolves like they were straw dummies had lulled something inside him. For once, Nate had thought maybe Lukara would let him pass through a dungeon without nearly dying.

Apparently, fate had other plans.

He shifted slightly, knees aching as he crouched and adjusted his grip on his weapon.

Varrick stood at the edge of the hallway like a drawn bowstring, every muscle coiled, greatsword resting against his shoulder. And Nate hoped that his blade would cut through the necromancer before the battle even began properly.

“Get ready,” Varrick said quietly.

The words snapped Nate fully into the moment.

“It’s going to start soon.”

Kesh leaned closer, voice barely a whisper. “Do you think it’ll work?”

Nate bit his lip, eyes never leaving the chamber ahead. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “But we don’t really have a choice, do we?”

Kesh didn’t answer.

John exhaled slowly, crouching behind him. “We can only trust Rayne. He would make sure we live.”

Nate nodded. More than Varrick, he had trust in Rayne. The man was a real gravewalker, almost undying and with him here, the chances of them making out alive—

“Everything is ready,” Varrick whispered suddenly. Nate’s heart slammed against his ribs. “I'm charging!”

Varrick lifted his sword without any more words and energy surged.

The greatsword began to glow like a power folder onto itself. The air hummed, vibrating through Nate’s teeth and skull as he prepared to follow after him.

For half a heartbeat, the world held its breath.

Then Varrick moved.

He exploded forward, sword blazing as he crossed the threshold into the chamber, aiming for the necromancer's head.