With my revenge complete, it was time to clean up the aftermath.
First, I gathered the undead still under my control to assess the damage.
My forces, those who had fought alongside Malcom, had been all but wiped out. The skirmishes with the dark wizards defending their village had also exacted a heavy toll.
"There must have been five hundred of them," I mused. "And this is all that's left?"
The number of once-plentiful undead was now barely over thirty. The losses sustained while dealing with just forty or so dark wizards were enormous. Had they been mere zombies or skeletons, it would have been one thing, but several of my higher-ranking undead had also been destroyed.
If Malcom hadn’t used the dark wizards as sacrificial pawns, the undead I sent into the village would have been annihilated completely.
After a rough tally of my losses, I turned my attention to Malcom’s body.
Forces could be replenished. As long as the destruction wasn’t so absolute as to be irrecoverable, I could reclaim some of my numbers. Besides, using the bodies of the fallen to bolster one’s own army—wasn’t that the true beauty of necromancy?
Hmm… I wonder if this will work.
My gaze shifted from Malcom, scanning the battlefield until I found what I was looking for.
It was the corpse of the kind dark wizard, my first teacher. Though battered by the chaos of battle and left in a ragged state, his body was mostly intact.
His soul has been torn out, too. Still, in this condition, I might be able to make use of him.
He had provided me with personal tutoring and even opportunities for practical application. As a token of my gratitude, I would attempt to raise him as one of my own.
I drew upon all the knowledge of “Dark Magic” I had acquired, my experience in examining the undead, and the information I’d gleaned from resonating with the “Fragment of the Abyssal Lich.” I began to weave the dark energies.
Connect the corpse with dark magic, synchronize it, contaminate the residual magic in the body, distort its physical information… then gather the fragments of the soul… is this right?
Black flames soon enveloped the corpse, incinerating everything but the bones. For a moment, it seemed to be working perfectly.
Then, the remaining bones began to crack and crumble into dust.
I offered a silent, brief apology. Still, the failure was instructive. I had grasped the technique.
I immediately ordered the nearest undead to bring Grave-Hand’s corpse from the warehouse. I would attempt the process again. Perhaps it was the ‘Grave-Hand Chance’ that always seemed to work in my favor, but this time, I succeeded.
A Skeleton Mage was complete.
While this success gave me a surge of confidence, using Malcom’s corpse still felt too risky. I needed a few more practice runs to be certain.
Well, there’s no shortage of materials. I can practice as much as I need to before the main event.
I instructed a nearby skeleton to lift Malcom’s body, then rose to my feet to survey the rest of the village. I staggered, my body tilting precariously to one side.
The lack of an arm was making it difficult to keep my balance.
First, I need to solve this problem.
I had my undead search for the right arm that had been severed during the battle. It was found quickly enough, but its condition was poor.
The upper arm is completely gone. This is useless.
I couldn't just attach an elbow to a shoulder. If I were a true lich who had extracted my essence and stored it safely, I might have been able to gather the shattered bone and regenerate the limb, but such feats were currently beyond me.
As I pondered my options, my eyes fell upon the remains of the Death Knight that had been shattered just before my final confrontation with Malcom. It looked completely irreparable.
But as I looked closer, I saw that its right arm was almost perfectly intact, and its build was similar to my own.
I can use this instead!
I picked up the Death Knight’s right arm and fitted it against my shoulder. Then, using dark magic, I began to connect and synchronize it. Black flames erupted, burning away the last vestiges of flesh from the bone, which was polished smooth as a mirror.
The “Rapid Recovery” trait activated, and my body began to knit itself to the Death Knight’s arm.
A bit… awkward?
I rotated the newly attached limb. Using the principles of bone manipulation I’d learned from dark magic, I meticulously adjusted its size and shape until the balance felt right.
It’s perfect now. Quite impressive, actually.
The color of the bones was slightly different from my own, but I was extremely satisfied. The quality of the material was so high that I felt hardly any difference when channeling dark magic through it.
Now, shall we collect the spoils?
There was no one left alive in this village, and the treasures left to claim were countless. I smiled, looking out over the silent, ruined settlement.
Unfortunately, most of the undead Malcom had defeated were too damaged to be restored. I revived those I could and continued my survey of the village. The streets were strewn with the remains of undead and the corpses of those who seemed to be minions. They must have been stragglers who couldn't join the main group and were cut down in the initial assault.
I moved from body to body, restoring those that were salvageable and raising the dead minions as new undead.
Is this one a Skeleton Warrior?
With my newly bolstered retinue, I continued moving through the village, collecting any useful items I found in the nearby buildings. There weren't as many new corpses as I expected.
It was only when I reached the village square that I understood why.
They all gathered here.
A massive battle had taken place in the center of the village. The remains of hundreds of undead were scattered across the plaza, surrounding a group of dark wizards who looked as though they had been annihilated in a single, devastating blast. I hadn’t been able to grasp the full situation during my fight with Malcom, but it seemed the wizards had rallied here, making a last, desperate stand in the narrow alleys.
Moreover, every one of the dark wizards was equipped with a proper robe and staff. Seeing that even the minions carried weapons, it was clear they had prepared for battle the moment the attack began.
Hmm… but the number of undead seems off. Why are there so many wrecks?
Then I noticed a number of skeletal remains positioned as if they had died protecting the central plaza.
Ah, these must be the ones the dark wizards summoned themselves.
On closer inspection, there weren't many high-level undead among them, but their sheer numbers had undoubtedly contributed to the village’s defense.
As I examined the scene further, I noticed a few of the fallen minions were particularly formidable. Especially the middle-aged man who had been guarding the entrance to the village.
When I scanned the village, I sensed a significant overall power level, but I didn't expect it to be this high.
Most of the high-level undead I had sent in appeared to have been destroyed by this one man. It seemed that, unlike the dark wizards, his status as a warrior made a world of difference. His combat ability far outstripped what his reserves of dark magic would suggest.
I may have been complacent, judging them only by their magical power. I need to be more careful in the future.
This man had performed admirably, but it seemed he couldn't hold out for long after the dark wizards were wiped out by Malcom.
But now, they are all my greatest assets.
Starting with those who seemed to be of a lower level, I began creating undead, one by one. The dark wizards became Skeleton Mages, while the minions rose as either Elite Skeletons or Skeleton Warriors. Some of the more notable ones became Skeleton Knights.
Through my diligent work, I came to a startling realization: the lowest-level undead I was now creating was the Elite Skeleton.
I had been the weakest soul in this entire village.
Well, now I'm the strongest. From now on, I’ll be the one letting these guys run wild.
There was no special reason my new creations were all skeletons. The information stored in the fragment I was using seemed to favor them, perhaps because Malcom’s own preference was encoded within it. Or maybe, because I was a skeleton myself, it was simply the easiest form for me to create.
It’s a bit lacking in diversity, but it can’t be helped.
Still, when it came to the village guardian, I couldn’t let his potential go to waste on a simple Skeleton Knight. Malcom had intended to create even stronger individuals; drawing on all my experience, I would try my best to create the ultimate undead.
A boiling sound emanated from the fallen warrior’s body. His head, which had been hanging limply from his neck, suddenly dropped to the ground. Then, the body rose, picked up the fallen head, and tucked it under its arm.
Oh, it was a success.
The Durahan, the headless knight, was born.
With most of my higher-level undead destroyed, this Durahan was now my strongest asset. There were a few others I could raise to the same rank, but their bodies weren't in as good condition. Of course, this was just the current hierarchy; the rankings could change at any moment.
Now, it was time for the long-awaited prize: Malcom.
But first, I needed a moment to think. I had little information on mage-type undead. It seemed a waste to turn a wizard of Malcom’s caliber into a mere Skeleton Mage. Ghost-type undead required a soul to begin with, and the same was true for a Lich.
Generally, a Lich is created when a living mage willingly corrupts themselves and becomes undead. I never had that information to begin with.
Malcom hadn't been wrong when he’d called me incomplete.
As I pondered, I glanced at my new right arm. A proper Death Knight was among the highest-ranking undead. It not only retained its consciousness but its combat power was comparable to a Lich’s. The ones I had commanded had been exposed to the fragment for too long, their strength and consciousness drained away.
Of course, I can’t turn a mage like Malcom into a Death Knight, but maybe I can mimic something similar…
The “Fragment of the Abyssal Lich” contained information on the Death Knight. As a Demilich, I had studied it several times, and now my very arm was that of a Death Knight.
Alright, let’s give it a try.
I settled into position and placed my right hand on Malcom’s corpse, focusing my intent. The “Vile Wisdom” I had gained whispered a method to me. The “Fragment of the Abyssal Lich” in my chest pulsed, lending me its power.
Black flames ignited on Malcom’s body. This time, however, they didn’t burn the flesh to bone. Instead, the corpse shriveled, shimmering as if all moisture was being drawn from it. I quickly gathered the tattered remnants of Malcom’s consciousness and implanted them into the body. The fragmented thoughts had no value as information, but they would grant the creature enough intelligence to make its own judgments.
The figure rose from the ground and stood still, a blue aura flickering in its empty eye sockets. It looked at me, then immediately bowed its head.
“Speak your command.”
For a moment, I was touched. It was the first time an undead other than myself had ever spoken.
With a consciousness and the ability to speak, it must have a name…
After a moment’s thought, I realized there was no need to invent one.
“Your name is Malcom. I’m counting on you. And you will obey me from now on. Understood?”
There was no point in giving him another name; it would only be confusing. Besides, like my own name, “Malcom” was probably just a pseudonym. He had only just gained consciousness and didn’t seem inclined to respond, but that would improve with time.
If not, I would have to be more persuasive.
And so, I had achieved my revenge. The man who killed me was now the “Death Wizard,” and he was my subordinate.