Reborn with a Necromancer System - Chapter 69

Chapter 69: Leaving Mirth
[Name: Kai Tensen |

Age: 13 Years |

Specialisation: Necromancer |

Rank: 7 |

Awakening Requirements: Sacrifice 100,000 Life Essence (12,020/100,000). Consume a soul of Sovereign rank or higher |

Life Essence Stored: 27,500/27,500 (2,750/2,750 – Phylactery Reserves) |

Mortality Deviance: 5/10 |

Artifacts: Abyssal Band, Mirage’s Veil |

Souls Absorbed: Winfried Drummond (Greater), Angelica Trunsdale (Greater), Nameless Guards (2, Petty), Nameless Inquisitors (3, Lesser), Arcane Wolf (51, Lesser), Iron Bear (13, Greater) Deer (91, Petty) |

Undead Army: 284 (Joran (Brawler), Rhea (Commander), Finn, Merri (Shadowsworn), Voltis, Zephyr, Kael (Splitspeed Rogue), Ralts (Chaos Lich), Joe (Death Knight), Arcane Wolf (2), Skeleton Novice Fire Mage (12), Skeleton Novice Shadow Mage (10), Skeleton Novice Elementalist (3), Skeleton Warrior (38), Skeleton (123), Zombie Warrior (41), Zombie Sprinter (9), Zombie Shambler (20), Ghast (13), Shadow Death Knight, Lesser Lich (2), Grave Maw |

Tethered Souls: 0 |

Languages Translated: Imerian, Salan, Forebearers (Partial) |

Skills: Mana Manipulation, Mana Tempering, Mana Sense, Shadow Manipulation (Advanced), Strengthening Magic (Moderate), Elemental Magic (Minor), Combat Arts (Intermediate), Shadowmeld, Precision Targeting (Magic), Death Sense, Murmurs of the Departed, Shadow Decoy, Advanced Sigilcraft (Fortification, Elemental, Barrier, Chaos), Aura of Undead |

Spellcasting: Intermediate |

Spells: Raise Undead (Moderate), Thrall Control, Shadow Conjuring, Bull’s Strength, Frozen Touch (Contact), Frozen Zone (Area), Icicle Javelins (Ranged), Searing Touch (Contact), Wall of Flame (Moderate), Wither, Gravebound, Wall of Ice (Moderate), Mass Raise Undead (Lesser), Tether the Fallen, Ice Prison (Minor), Shadow Weapons, Flamethrower, Tempered Shadows, Shadow Space, Speed Sigil (Lightning), Power Sigil (Fire), Aura Sigil (Ice), Undead Enslavement, Chaos Sigil, Darkness Sigil (Shadow), Chaos Shadow Barrier, Control Sigil (Anti-Chaos)]

Kai sat before a grave, staring at the words etched into the stone. He had carved them himself, using his magic to carefully chisel each letter with shadow-infused precision:

‘Orlin Mirth, leader of the necromancers. Betrayed by the world he loved and tainted because of it. The best and harshest master in this world and the next.’

A fitting epitaph, though the weight of it lingered in his chest. Orlin’s lessons, his brutal tutelage, and his final moments were carved into Kai’s mind just as deeply as the letters before him.

‘It wasn’t even a year with you, you old fool, and yet you’ve been the most important person to me in almost 50 years of living.

With a quiet exhale, he activated the magic of his necklace. His hair lightened into golden blonde, his ears retracted, his skin took on an olive hue, and his eyes shifted to a deep blue. After countless adjustments over the years, this was the illusion he had settled on. His preferred mask.

Time moved differently in Mirth. The outside world counted mere months, while inside the city, Kai endured years. Those years molded him, sharpening both his mind and body as he learned to exist in solitude. When he had first arrived, he was a scrawny nine-year-old boy with the soul of a jaded thirty-five-year-old man. Now, at thirteen, he had changed. He had grown taller, his frame lean but strong from endless physical training and battle drills against his undead. His once-boyish face had sharpened, though hints of youth still lingered.

He surmised that it was due to his necromantic nature that his youth remained, since, in his past life, he developed both facial and pubic hair by the age of fourteen.

Puberty had come again, bringing a fresh wave of frustrations, but he had discovered that his necromantic nature dulled the worst of it. He still felt desire, but it was tempered and very much controlled, as if the cold touch of death numbed that part of him. He didn’t mind. There were more important things than lust.

His time had been spent wisely. He scoured the library, devouring knowledge. Dozens of ancient tomes filled his mind with magic theories, historical texts, and forgotten necromantic arts.

He refined his sigilcrafting, creating complex arrays that pushed the boundaries of the undead’s potential. His experiments led to new evolutions: Zombie Shamblers transformed into Sprinters with lightning sigils, into hardened Warriors with strengthening sigils. Skeletons wielded magic with fire, lightning, ice, or shadow, thanks to elemental inscriptions.

But it wasn’t just the nameless undead that evolved. His trusted allies, his adventurers, became stronger as well. Joran’s might grew to terrifying levels. Joe, the Death Knight, honed his skills into something beyond monstrous. Rhea, his commander, strategized battles against imaginary foes, preparing for a future war.

Kai never skipped a single day of sigilcraft, even after almost five years. Whether that was using the barrier sigil mixed with other sigils to see the possibilities, or removing and reapplying sigils to meet his daily quota.

Without fresh prey, Kai’s necromancer rank remained stagnant, but he found ways to sustain himself. His undead roamed the forests beyond Mirth, hunting deer and lesser beasts, bringing back both food and life essence. At first, eating felt dull, flavourless and unnecessary. But after weeks of practice, he mimicked Orlin’s method, forming a thin barrier of shadow magic over his food.

The shadow magic burnt his tongue a little less than Orlin’s light magic.

The moment he could taste again, he felt something almost like joy. His cooking skills remained mediocre, but the simple pleasure of a cooked meal was enough.

‘For now, at least.’

When it came to the city of Mirth itself, it held secrets even Orlin hadn’t shared, or maybe didn’t even know.

Kai explored every street, every ruined temple, every shattered district. He found hidden artifacts, each carrying an ominous presence:

A golden brooch in the shape of a bird, glowing constantly that was too perfect, too pristine to be normal.

A simple tiara that, upon contact, flooded his mind with alien thoughts, as if whispering forbidden knowledge.

He refused to wear either, instead storing both within his Shadow Space. He had learned patience; power meant nothing if it came with unseen curses.

Standing at his master’s grave, Kai exhaled slowly. He had done all he could within Mirth’s cursed walls. He was stronger, smarter, more prepared than ever before. But it wasn’t enough. The world outside was waiting. His enemies were waiting.

His fingers curled into a fist.

‘I don’t even know if I’m strong enough, so my enemies will have to wait.’

The people who had wronged him and his family were still free out there. The Inquisition, the nobles, his sister, and those who orchestrated his suffering. Almost five years had passed in Mirth, but to them, to those on the outside, it had been mere months. Less than an entire year.

They would not expect him.

They would not see him coming.

A smirk tugged at his lips. He pulled out the letter of recommendation for the Thesiones Magic Academy.

“I need to remember. I’m posing as a fifteen-year-old now.”

A final glance at the grave, a silent nod of farewell. Even though Orlin still remained beneath the manor, in the basement, warded by five layers of barrier spells which now fed off Orlin’s magic to keep itself going, Kai knew his master was dead. All that was buried in that shallow grave, was his cane.

“I’ll visit when I can. If I can. And if I do, I’ll put a stop to your rampaging corpse.”

Then, he turned away from the past and stepped toward the future.

‘A student again… Highschool… Again…’