The Genesis Of A Necromancer - Chapter 134

Chapter 134: Conquest begins
Zamazo’s reply left Jack stunned.

For a moment, his mind went blank. Worse than a god? What could possibly be more dangerous than that? His blood ran cold at the implications. Whatever was coming, it was far beyond what he had anticipated.

Behind him, Alisha and Misssy stood frozen, the tension palpable in the air. Neither of them fully understood the conversation unfolding before them, but the gravity of Zamazo’s words was unmistakable.

‘Are there other gods aside from Olion?’ Alisha’s thoughts spiraled in confusion, her faith shaken to its core. As the principal head of the church, her entire life had been devoted to worshiping Olion, the sole deity she had ever known. The idea of other gods—let alone something more terrifying—was almost too much to bear.

The mere thought sent a shudder racing down her spine. For the first time in her life, she felt the urge to abandon everything—to turn back, leave this forsaken place, and return to the safety of Earth.

“What might that be?” Jack asked, his voice steady but his brow deeply furrowed.

His question hung in the air, heavy with unspoken dread. He could feel the weight of Zamazo’s words pressing down on him, compounding the growing list of burdens he was already juggling. A god’s wrath was one thing, but something worse? How was he supposed to contend with that?

Zamazo took a deliberate step closer, his towering figure casting an imposing shadow over Jack. The dim light flickered across his dark armor, highlighting the tense lines of his face.

“The fabric of the planes is weakening,” Zamazo said, his voice a low rumble. “Cracks are forming, and through those cracks, an ancient force stirs. A force that predates even the gods themselves.”

Jack’s breath hitched. The overlord’s usually unwavering composure seemed tinged with something unfamiliar—fear. It was a rare sight, one that set Jack further on edge.

“The Abyss,” Zamazo continued, his voice barely above a whisper. “The primordial chaos from which all things were born. It is breaking open. And if it fully awakens…” He paused, his gaze piercing into Jack’s. “Not even the gods will be able to stop the beings trapped within.”

Jack’s eyes widened, flashing with a trace of fear as Erebus’s fragmented memories surged to the forefront of his mind. He had read about the Abyss, but even the fractured knowledge left behind by his predecessor had painted it as an unfathomable nightmare.

“The Abyss?!” he repeated, his voice tinged with disbelief.

“Yes,” Zamazo confirmed grimly. “The overlord of the 12th plane informed us. The Twelve Lords were to convene for a council on the matter.”

Zamazo’s words dragged Jack further into his thoughts. The mention of the Abyss stirred memories—images of endless chaos, beings of raw, uncontainable power clawing at the edges of existence. Erebus had feared them, and now that fear was becoming Jack’s burden.

As he processed the gravity of the situation, Jack silently retracted the chains he had summoned earlier, allowing them to slither back into the Book of Death. The constant drain on his soul essence had become an unnecessary strain, and with the situation escalating, he needed to conserve every ounce of strength he had left.

“How long do we have?” Jack asked after a pause, his voice steady despite the turmoil churning within him.

“Not long,” Zamazo said with a shake of his head. “The gods are aware, but they are too divided to act. They will watch and wait, hoping the planes will hold. But they won’t.”

Jack rubbed his beardless chin, a sarcastic smirk tugging at his lips. “Well, at least there’s a silver lining,” he mused, his voice laced with dark humor. “When the Abyss opens, it’ll be the gods’ turn to panic. The weaker ones will perish, and good riddance. But…” He trailed off, his expression darkening.

“But?” Zamazo prompted, his tone impatient.

“The main issue isn’t the gods,” Jack continued, his voice grim. “It’s the devils. Those bastards will be a pain in the ass.”

The mention of the devils sent a chill through the room. Even Zamazo stiffened slightly, his stern expression betraying his unease.

Jack sighed deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I can help deal with the Abyss,” he said at last, his voice firm. “But you’ll have to help me grow stronger first.”

Zamazo’s eyes widened, a flicker of hope breaking through his stoic mask. “Are you serious?” he asked, his tone a mixture of disbelief and cautious optimism.

The overlord knew the power of the Abyss and the devils that resided within. Their toxic essence was anathema to gods, capable of corroding divine energy like acid on flesh. If Jack—or Erebus—truly had a way to counter them, it could change everything.

Jack nodded, his confidence unwavering. “If I could trap the God of Time there once and escape, then I can find a way to lock the devils up too.” His smirk returned, but this time it was sharp, predatory. “But these gods won’t give me the space to operate freely. They’re already watching, waiting for a chance to pounce.”

The bitterness in Jack’s voice was unmistakable. Erebus’s resentment toward the gods had bled into him, merging with his own growing animosity. The idea of outmaneuvering them, of defying their arrogance, fueled him with a dark determination.

Just as Jack was about to speak again, a soft chime echoed in his mind.

[System Notification]

The Lord has returned and must now reclaim his kingdom!

Become the ruler of the planes and lead your people.

Take your first step toward godhood.

Reward: Nectar of Immortality!

Penalty: Reincarnation cycle ends!

Jack’s expression twisted into a bitter smile. Even as the universe seemed to collapse around him, the system found a way to pile on more pressure.

“Perfect,” he muttered sarcastically.

——-

“How much longer do those idiots intend to waste!” The King of Swords bellowed, his voice echoing across the war-torn plains. His fury was palpable, radiating like heat from a furnace.

Standing tall in his resplendent armor, the king cut an imposing figure. A thick fur coat draped over his broad shoulders, giving him the air of a lion ready to pounce. Beneath the coat, his golden chest plate gleamed under the unforgiving sunlight, catching the eye of anyone who dared look his way. While only the chest piece was visible, everyone knew the full suit of armor extended across his entire body, a testament to both his wealth and his indomitable spirit.

His aura was overwhelming, a tidal wave that could crush mountains and send weaker men to their knees. Even the wind seemed to cower in his presence, stilling as if afraid to disturb him further.

In front of him loomed a pitch-black portal, its swirling depths a stark contrast to the bright day. It pulsed with a quiet menace, as if holding back something far greater than it appeared.

Beside the King of Swords stood a man who exuded a different kind of authority. His eyes were closed, his muscular arms crossed over his chest. His short gray hair shimmered in the sunlight, and though he appeared unassuming, every warrior present knew better. This was Aldermond, the man who had singlehandedly terrorized the Four Kingdoms.

Unlike the king, Aldermond’s aura was tightly controlled, not a shred of it leaking from his body. But those who had faced him in battle understood the truth—his calm was the calm of a predator waiting to strike. His mere presence was enough to unnerve even the bravest soldiers.

The King of Swords paced impatiently, his boots crunching against the dry, cracked earth. “It’s high time we teach these fools a lesson!” he snarled, his voice rising with each word. “To insult the Four Kingdoms not once, but thrice—it’s unforgivable!”

Before anyone could respond, the king took a step toward the distant spires of the Church’s citadel, his hand already reaching for the hilt of his blade. But just as he moved, a streak of fire appeared in the sky, hurtling toward them with blinding speed.

The flaming figure descended gracefully, landing with a soft thud. As the fire dissipated, a woman stepped forward, her crimson robes billowing around her like living flames. Her presence immediately commanded attention, her fiery aura radiating strength and determination.

It was Maria, the kingdom’s most trusted envoy. She walked calmly to Aldermond, her every step purposeful. When she reached him, she stopped and bowed deeply, her respect for the man evident in her gesture.

“Lord Aldermond,” Maria began, her voice clear and steady despite the tense atmosphere. “The Church’s delegation is on their way. They will arrive shortly.”