Reborn with a Necromancer System - Chapter 49

Chapter 49: More Questions and Fewer Answers Chapter 49: More Questions and Fewer Answers Kai frowned as he stirred the embers of the dying fire.

The manor’s grand hall was eerily quiet, save for the occasional flicker of flame and the faint shuffle of undead outside.

Weeks had passed since Kai started training under Orlin.

The undead were slowly coming under his control, but he still had much more to go.

One thing, however, continued to nag at him.

He never saw the old man sleep.

Not once.

Every night, when Kai dragged himself into a quiet corner of the manor to rest, Orlin was still awake.

He watched Kai with curious eyes, read from a book, or simply existed in an unnerving stillness.

Each morning after waking, Kai found Orlin in the same state.

He remained alert, composed, and unsettlingly motionless.

Kai poked at the fire again before finally asking, “Do you ever sleep?” Orlin, who had been idly flipping through a brittle, leather-bound tome, didn’t even look up.

“No.” The coldness in his voice almost decreased the temperature of the room.

Kai blinked twice.

‘I thought maybe he at least meditated or something.

But no rest at all?’ “At all?” Kai repeated out loud.

“Not in a very, very long time.” The young necromancer narrowed his eyes.

“You mean you don’t need to sleep?” “Correct.

And, in fact, I cannot even if I wanted to.” “Why?” At this, Orlin finally glanced up.

Shadows clung to his form like smoke, his eyes gleaming with something ancient and unreadable behind them.

His fingers tapped the tome’s spine, a slow, deliberate rhythm, before he spoke.

“There comes a point, Kai Tensen, when the body no longer requires sleep.

When the years stretch on so endlessly that sleep becomes… irrelevant.” An uneasy, relentless curiosity stirred in Kai’s chest, coiling around his ribs like a snake.

“Just how long has it been?” Orlin chuckled, a deep, amused sound that sent a shiver crawling up Kai’s spine.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Kai scowled.

“Obviously.

You talk about necromancy like you’ve been practicing it for centuries.” The old man tilted his head, his grin half-hidden beneath his hood.

“Perhaps I have.

Or, perhaps, I’ve never practiced necromancy at all.

I mean, have you seen me practice any necromancy?” The fire crackled between them.

“No?

But that doesn’t mean-” “Exactly.

Never stop dissecting reality to figure out truth from lies and fact from fiction.

Stop doing that, and you’ll be doomed to fail.” Kai swallowed.

Was he joking?

He had met powerful mages before, like Father Aldric, Hunter, even Mari.

But Orlin… he was different.

His appearance looked human.

At least from the shape of his clothes.

He spoke like a man who lived through and witnessed ages of war and decay.

Like a man from Kai’s world that would mention living through a world war and watching several politicians rise and fall.

But there was something wrong about him, too, something unnatural.

He always moved in a fluid yet calculated manner, as if he rehearsed every movement a thousand times or more over countless years.

His speech, mannerisms, movement.

Everything was perfect.

Like an actor on stage.

And just like an actor, Orlin’s presence always filled a room, even when he had nothing to do or say.

Oppressive.

Heavy.

Suffocating.

“Are you undead?” Kai asked cautiously.

Orlin’s grin widened, eyes changing shape as they did when he smiled.

The light of the fireplace revealed nothing.

“Not in the way you’re thinking.” That didn’t make Kai feel any better.

He swallowed, glancing at the fire again before murmuring, “Then what are you?” Silence.

For a moment, he thought Orlin wouldn’t answer.

Then, softly, the old man said, “A relic of another time.” Kai clenched his jaw.

‘That doesn’t mean anything.

An eighty-year-old woman could say the same thing.’ Orlin had secrets.

Secrets deeper than just his master’s necromancy, deeper than just magic.

Then, without warning, Orlin shut his book with a sharp snap, making Kai flinch.

Slowly, he leaned forward, his voice a whisper of velvet and iron.

“You tell me, Kai.” His smiling eyes didn’t fade, but there was something predatory behind them now.

“What do you think I am?” Kai’s throat tightened.

‘Undead?

No.

Orlin wasn’t bound by the sluggish decay of corpses, nor the maddening hunger of revenants.

A lich?

Maybe, but there was no trace of the cold, brittle rot that surrounded them.

A shade?

A construct?

Something worse?’ Kai exhaled sharply, forcing himself to meet Orlin’s gaze.

“You’re… something else.” The old man’s eyes twitched in amusement.

“Good.” He leaned back again, fingers drumming against the tome’s worn cover.

“Then think on it, disciple.

Perception is a valuable thing, especially in necromancy.

If you cannot discern the nature of what stands before you, how will you ever master the craft?” Kai wanted to argue, but the weight of Orlin’s words settled heavily on him.

For the first time, doubt crept into his mind.

He had followed Orlin because the man was the only one who could teach him, the only necromancer strong enough to help him survive in this ruined world.

But was that still reason enough?

If Orlin wasn’t even mortal, if his existence defied everything Kai understood, then what else was he hiding?

A single thought came to him.

‘Leave.’ He considered slipping away in the dead of night.

Finding another way to learn necromancy, another teacher.

But the thought withered as soon as it formed.

There was nowhere else.

No one else.

And despite the unease twisting inside him, something deeper urged him to stay.

If he wanted true power, if he wanted to uncover the secrets of necromancy, there was no better place to learn than at Orlin’s side.

The man who allegedly trained under the last necromancer.

Even if that meant standing next to a man who might not even be a man at all.

— Kai had been tempted to lift Orlin’s hood several times.

The way it obscured his face, shadowing his features just enough that no details could ever be made out, gnawed at Kai’s curiosity.

Just like a ninja who covered the lower half of their face.

More than once, as the old man sat still and silent in the firelight, Kai had reached forward, fingers inches from the fabric.

And every single time, Orlin had spoken before he could.

Not in alarm.

Not in warning.

Just a simple, quiet statement, delivered as if he had known what Kai was thinking before he even moved.

“Do you seek to know what lies beneath, disciple?” The first time, Kai had yanked his hand back, heart hammering against his ribs.

The second time, he had hesitated, wondering if it had been coincidence.

By the third time, he knew better.

Orlin was awake.

Always.

Even now, the thought gnawed at him.

His master’s hood wasn’t normal.

It swallowed light, making the shape of his head indistinct, and no matter what angle Kai looked from, the details always blurred.

It was as if the hood itself rejected scrutiny.

Just what was he hiding?

Before he could dwell on it further, Orlin’s voice cut through the silence.

“What are you thinking about, disciple?

Something seems to be on your mind.” Kai stiffened.

“N-nothing.

Your garments are just… interesting.

How does your hood do what it does?” Orlin’s fingers traced the edge of his hood, as if considering his answer.

Then his grin sharpened.

“This hood, amongst other items in my possession, hides the truth.” “Hide the truth?” Orlin chuckled, rising from his seat in one fluid motion.

“Truth is a burden, Kai.

One that not all are ready to bear.” Kai opened his mouth, but before he could press further, Orlin turned his back to him.

“Get going, disciple.

You have tasks to complete.” Kai hesitated, watching him for a moment longer before reluctantly obeying.

But even as he walked away, his mind churned.

And the hood with its dark, shifting folds seemed to watch him, too.

CREATORS’ THOUGHTS Jhaydun Orlin is a mystery, wrapped in an enigma, dipped in shadow, and boiled in the unknown.

I’m sure some of you have guessed what he is by now, so let me know your guesses!