The Genesis Of A Necromancer - Chapter 108

Chapter 108: Trump card
‘If I can summon my own bone army, then they’ll help me deal with all of this. That way, we can easily get to the altar.’ Jack’s mind raced as he focused on willing the system screen to appear.

[Access to the system has been denied.]

[The lord wishes to see your strength!]

The cold, mechanical system notification sent a chill crawling down Jack’s spine. His heartbeat spiked.

‘If I had relied on the system up to this point… I would’ve been toast.’ The realization was sobering—and terrifying.

Jack clicked his tongue in frustration, his sharp gaze scanning the chaos surrounding him.

“Alisha, protect Missy!” he ordered, his voice hard and cutting.

Missy barely stood, her small frame trembling as she clung to Alisha’s side. The girl’s face was pale—the events had drained her both physically and mentally.

The undead were upon them. Their bony hands gripped rusted weapons, armor rattling as they closed in.

Though their movements were slow, their sheer numbers turned them into an overwhelming force.

Jack realized immediately that these creatures—these soldiers of undeath—were not like his haphazard attempts at necromancy.

This was a true necromancer’s power, executed with mastery.

Each undead seemed to move as a piece in a coordinated army, every motion precise and unrelenting. Compared to this, Jack’s summons were reckless.

‘I’ll have to deal with the altar myself,’ he thought grimly, setting his sights on his objective.

From the corner of his eye, he caught sight of a skeleton soldier charging toward him, its axe glinting dully in the green torchlight. With a guttural screech, it swung downward.

“Tch,” Jack grunted.

He extended his hand, and a powerful surge of darkness burst forth. The black tendrils enveloped the skeleton in an instant.

Sickening cracks filled the air as the undead was torn apart, its brittle bones crushed and shattered.

The green flames in its eye sockets flickered briefly—a silent scream of agony—before vanishing entirely.

Jack didn’t stop. He advanced toward the altar, his steps resolute.

More skeletons emerged, rushing at him with unnerving determination, but they were no match.

He waved his hand dismissively, sending bursts of shadow magic that obliterated the approaching horde. Bones scattered, clattering to the stone floor as he moved forward.

‘If this altar works like the one in my consciousness, then it’s the source of this chaos,’ Jack thought, narrowing his eyes.

The altar loomed ahead—a monstrous construct of dark stone covered in glowing runes. The energy radiating from it was heavy, oppressive, and unnervingly alive.

Jack felt it clawing at his skin like invisible hands.

Suddenly, the air shifted. A low hum echoed through the chamber, resonating in Jack’s chest. The altar began to pulse—a slow, methodical rhythm—and darkness seeped from its base, pooling into the center of the room.

Jack slowed his steps, his instincts flaring in warning.

He watched in silent tension as the shadows began to take shape.

A figure rose from the darkness—tall, looming, and cloaked in an impenetrable shroud.

Its form was humanoid, but unsettlingly fluid, like smoke struggling to maintain a shape. As the figure solidified, a weapon appeared in its grasp—a massive scythe forged entirely of shadow.

Its blade gleamed with a sinister light.

[Death.]

The system’s monotone ping echoed in Jack’s ears.

Jack’s brow furrowed.

“Death?” he muttered, his voice barely audible. His instincts screamed at him to brace himself.

Without warning, the figure moved.

A blur—so fast that Jack barely had time to react. The figure appeared in front of him, its scythe already in motion. The weapon slashed through the air, leaving a white streak of light in its wake.

Jack’s eyes widened.

‘Fast.’

He willed the Shadowfang into his hands, the dark blade materializing just in time to meet the scythe.

The clash rang out like a thunderclap. Sparks erupted where the weapons collided.

The figure didn’t relent.

It unleashed a barrage of attacks, each swipe faster and more powerful than the last. Jack gritted his teeth, parrying blow after blow, the force of the strikes reverberating up his arms.

‘It’s too strong,’ Jack thought, sweat dripping down his brow.

‘I need an opening!’

The figure’s scythe descended one final time. Jack raised Shadowfang to block, but the figure’s form disappeared—a trick.

Jack’s instincts screamed too late.

The presence reappeared behind him.

*Whoosh.*

Jack spun around, but the scythe was already descending. The blade struck, carving a deep gash across his chest. Pain erupted like fire, white-hot and blinding.

Jack stumbled back, his hand flying to the wound as blood began to seep through his fingers.

“Big bro!” Missy’s cry pierced the chaos. Her voice broke, cracking under the strain of her fear.

Alisha’s head whipped around.

“Asriel?!” she screamed, her face twisted in horror. She hurled a spear of light at the undead advancing on her, vaporizing it instantly.

“Nephris!” Alisha yelled. “It’s time! We have no choice!”

Nephris turned, her face stricken with uncertainty. “My lady… Are you sure?”

Alisha gritted her teeth, her knuckles white as she tightened her fist.

“We don’t have time to hesitate! If we don’t act now, Asriel’s done for, and none of us are getting out of here alive!”

Nephris swallowed hard, her expression tightening.

“Understood!”

Alisha turned her focus to the shadowy figure looming over Jack, its scythe raised for a finishing blow.

“Holy Lance!” Alisha roared, her staff flaring with brilliant white light. She thrust her hands forward, sending a massive spear of divine energy hurtling toward the shadowy figure.

The lance struck true, tearing through the darkness and punching a hole in the figure’s chest.

The shadows recoiled, writhing and splintering around the wound. For a brief moment, its scythe halted midair.

The figure turned its head slowly toward Alisha. In the swirling darkness of its face, two red pinpoints of light flared—cold, unfeeling, and deadly.

“A… divine incarnate?” The voice echoed like a chorus of whispers, deep and resonant. The very walls trembled at its words.

Jack coughed, blood staining his lips as he looked up at the figure looming above him.

His vision blurred, but his grip on consciousness remained firm. He glared up defiantly, his jaw tight.

‘This… isn’t over.’

—

With Alisha’s sudden transformation unfolding before his eyes, Jack couldn’t help but feel a mix of awe and disbelief.

The distraction she created had bought him enough time, and he seized the opening immediately.

He raised his hand, and in an instant, black flames began to dance across his fingertips.

Their heat wasn’t physical—it carried a primal, consuming darkness, and with a sharp wave of his arm, the flames erupted forward in a devastating torrent.

The fiery black surge roared through the air, swallowing the shadowy figure whole, its crackling sound echoing like the cries of damned souls.

The figure, engulfed in flame, quivered. The shadowy construct that formed its body splintered, chunks of darkness being torn apart and evaporating into thin wisps. But it wasn’t over—not yet.

“Nephris! Now!” Alisha’s voice cut through the chaos, ringing with urgency and purpose.

Behind her, Nephris’ calm focus turned into action. A wave of holy energy detonated from her, radiating outward like ripples on a still pond.

It wasn’t just light—it was a force, tangible and overwhelming, strong enough to repel the surrounding undead in a blinding flash. The creatures howled as they disintegrated into clouds of ash, their eerie green flames snuffed out in an instant.

A crown of pure, resplendent light began to materialize above Alisha’s head. Slowly, it descended until it hovered just above her brow, its brilliance too much to look at directly. The moment it touched her, the light exploded outward once more, washing over her form like a holy baptism.

Jack’s mouth parted in astonishment. The tattered clothes Alisha wore disintegrated into nothingness, replaced by a gleaming war gown that shone with divine energy.

Flowing white fabric draped over ornate silver armor etched with glowing runes.

She now looked like a warrior goddess descended from the heavens—untouchable, radiant, and impossibly powerful.

The transformation didn’t stop there.

A staff appeared in her hands, its form long and elegant, glowing with infinite power that pulsed in rhythm with the crown above her. She held it as though it was an extension of herself, its energy humming through her veins. With a single motion, Alisha pulled out the elemental fog crystal and placed it atop the staff.

The crystal resonated immediately, and an explosion of brilliant light radiated out, incinerating anything that dared come close.

The undead that surrounded them stood no chance. The light swept through them like a cleansing storm, obliterating some on contact and scattering the rest like leaves in a gale.

Behind her, Nephris stepped forward with deliberate intent, her hands lifted high as a strange incantation left her lips.

Her form shimmered as her body began to glow—first faintly, then brightly, until she was no longer flesh but light itself.

Jack stared in disbelief as Nephris’ form began to shrink, condensing into a glowing red gem that floated upward and slotted perfectly into the crown atop Alisha’s head.

The moment Nephris integrated into the crown, Alisha gasped.

Her body trembled, her power skyrocketing to levels beyond comprehension. Jack could feel it—the raw energy spilling off her was like standing in the center of a raging hurricane.

“Lady Alisha!” Nephris’ voice echoed softly in Alisha’s mind, filled with both concern and warning.

“This form isn’t meant for humans. The strain will be too much for your body. Don’t use it for long!”

“I’m aware,” Alisha replied firmly, her glowing eyes fixed on the shadowy figure that Jack had weakened.

Her voice carried a calm, unwavering resolve.

“We don’t have another choice.”

Jack watched the transformation with his hand still clutching the deep gash across his chest. His breathing was ragged, but he couldn’t tear his gaze away.

“So…this is the true power of a Guardian,” he muttered, half in admiration, half in disbelief. He could feel her power. It pressed on the space around them, almost suffocating, teetering on the brink of SS-rank.

“Unbelievable.”

Alisha glanced briefly at Jack, and seeing the blood seeping from his wound, her expression darkened. She lifted her staff, and with a simple gesture, light flowed from her hand toward him.

“What the…” Jack began, startled.