Damn Necromancer - Chapter 39

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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The Spendthrift Necromancer (39)
Festival
Meat sizzled freely between towering flames. Dwarves and elves, even orcs—races of every kind had gathered without reservation, and food disappeared into their mouths by the handful.
―Mmm! This pork is delicious!
“Hah! So this is what you called canned beer? This stuff is absolutely magnificent!”
Even with nearly eight thousand people eating their fill and wandering off, the food never seemed to diminish.
Kim Minwoo sat near a bonfire, chewing meat contentedly.
‘Not bad at all.’
He’d brought plenty of spices—salt, pepper, and more—so the seasoning was more than adequate.
He watched the elves.
They ate meat, yes, but as a race they naturally preferred fruit and vegetables. So it was no surprise to see them holding bananas and corn in their hands instead.
Still, they seemed to be enjoying themselves.
Then…….
His eyes met Elise’s as she chewed on corn. She rose and walked toward him.
“This is delicious. Once the weather warms, I’d like to try growing some myself.”
“Then why not read this?”
He handed her a book describing seed cultivation methods.
Gates were fragments of other worlds.
The languages and writing systems were naturally all different, yet somehow communication still worked.
The same applied to the text in books. Aside from a few special cases, most writing and speech translated without trouble.
This book in particular was written in simple language with annotations scattered throughout for easy understanding. Elise opened it and nodded.
“How strange. There are so many seeds I’ve never seen before.”
“They come from another world, after all.”
“Is that world peaceful?”
“To some degree.”
“…… I suppose I envy that.”
“This place will be the same.”
Because I’ll clear it.
Elise’s expression darkened slightly at those words.
“We might be able to defeat the Apostle. But the Witch and the Frost Dragon…… they’re beings on a different level entirely.”
“I know.”
“Can you really defeat such beings?”
“In my world, there’s a saying: nothing is impossible.”
And it was the truth.
Every Gate has a way to be cleared. And that path doesn’t exist in just one form.
―The cold dragon desires a frozen land. The wicked witch desires fresh corpses. The Frost Dragon freezes. The Witch obtains corpses.
He recalled words that Bekthar had spoken in the past.
The Witch desires corpses.
The Frost Dragon desires frozen earth.
When interests align, how could laughter not follow?
They must have been inseparable.
‘Until now, it was win-win for both.’
But what about now?
With all the land frozen and all living things dying, could the Witch truly remain happy?
If the cold persists like this, won’t all life be wiped out entirely?
‘The benefit is shifting to one side.’
The Frost Dragon still comes out ahead.
But the Witch will soon grow restless.
Corpses themselves will become scarce.
‘That’s why she started the culling.’
With no more sources of bodies to harvest, one last squeeze before the well runs dry.
Desire is where all fracture begins.
And the current situation……
‘…… is the perfect board to manipulate the Witch’s desires.’
The Witch and the Frost Dragon.
If they unite their strength, it becomes impossibly difficult.
But if I face only one……
‘…… it becomes far more manageable.’
First, I need to take down the Apostle.
* * *
“What—what is this?”
Belitas blinked in confusion.
He had reason to be thoroughly bewildered.
When they announced the festival, he’d been certain of victory.
He’d fortified the Fortress with meticulous care.
Day three.
By now, surely their supplies were running low.
Day four.
Today had to be the day they’d come.
Day five.
The festival was still going on?
Day six.
Fifteen thousand orcs gathered already? If I sortie now, they’ll swallow me whole.
Day seven.
‘How much longer are they going to keep this up?’
They were insane.
Word had come that the orc numbers had already crossed twenty thousand.
Worse, they weren’t rationing their supplies at all.
Those gluttonous creatures had been gorging themselves until their bellies nearly burst.
And yet the festival continued without pause.
With each passing day, the orc horde swelled like a fever.
‘I can’t leave now.’
Cold sweat beaded on Belitas’s brow.
Even if the orcs were far below the Fortress’s garrison in individual strength, numbers were a force no skill could overcome.
Without the Fortress’s walls, it would be certain death.
‘If this festival lasts even two more days… I can’t stop them.’
Now five or six thousand were arriving daily. If the orc count topped thirty thousand, the Fortress itself would become a coffin.
Damn it all.
He couldn’t ask the other Apostles for help—each one was scrambling to curry favor with the Witch, locked in cutthroat competition.
Even if he swallowed his pride and begged, they’d give him nothing of substance.
‘There’s no choice.’
He’d have to reach out to the Witch at the center. That was far better than watching the Fortress crumble.
He drew the Crystal Orb from his pocket.
As he channeled dark magic into it, light blazed forth.
“Great Witch, I—your humble servant Belitas—have news to report and beg your audience.”
―What is it?
Her voice came back playful, almost mocking, and his whole frame shuddered.
The Witch’s temperament was volatile.
In other words, unstable.
She would laugh while speaking, then without warning tear the head clean off a subordinate—it happened all the time.
Given that knowledge, this was news he desperately didn’t want to deliver, but…
Belitas squeezed his eyes shut and spoke.
“The orcs are stirring. Their numbers have already reached twenty thousand, my lady—it’s beyond my capability to sortie and suppress them.”
―What have you been doing all this time?
“… My sincerest apologies. The fault is entirely mine. If you would lend your strength, just a measure more…”
―I’ll send the Death Knight Order. That should be enough, shouldn’t it?
The Death Knight Order.
One of the Witch’s most formidable regiments, their name was synonymous with annihilation—wherever they marched, only corpses remained. They were elite beyond measure.
Hope kindled in Belitas’s eyes.
“Yes! More than enough! I shall sweep aside the orcs and lay victory’s glory at your feet!”
―Disconnect.
The Crystal Orb went silent.
Only then could Belitas breathe.
‘If they ride through the night, they’ll be here in three days.’
Holding the line for that long, even against so many orcs, was manageable.
A smile crept across Belitas’s face.
* * *
[The number of orcs under your command has exceeded thirty thousand!]
[Title ‘Novice Commander’ has been upgraded to ‘Expert Commander’!]
The Commander Title.
When commanding many subordinates, a Title emerged that boosted the morale of the forces under his command.
‘Thirty thousand units—the effect is quite substantial.’
Morale increased by fifteen percent.
It was a Title that would shine brightest in large-scale battles.
But the changes didn’t end there.
[Takunda is appointed as the Third Ten-Thousand Commander!]
[Takunda advances from Clan Leader to Orc Warlord!]
Each time ten thousand orcs gathered, the Clan Leaders rose one by one to become Orc Warlords.
The promotions followed seniority.
First, Urkan.
Second, Dekum.
Third, Takunda.
All of them grew larger in frame, their muscles swelling with brutal intensity. Most striking was the transformation of Urkan—the only one among the Clan Leaders who was a Boss Monster.
He had become a living war machine.
The preparations were complete.
“End the festival! Now we strike the Fortress!”
—Orcs! Orcs!
The orc army, stuffed with food until their bellies threatened to burst and restocked with equipment aplenty, blazed with morale that seemed to pierce the very heavens.
Thirty thousand strong.
And supporting them, however modest the contribution, were elves.
One hundred archers had joined their ranks.
Boom-boom!
Several orcs wielding drums beat them with thunderous force.
The vast army moved toward the Fortress.
The march took six hours.
In the distance, a colossal Fortress came into view.
The walls rose to roughly fifteen meters.
Atop them swarmed Chimeras and Phantom Knights, dark sorcerers and Necromancers. He set up a temporary position and assessed the enemy composition.
‘Their numbers come to about three thousand in total.’
That was, however, excluding the forces summoned by their Necromancers.
Including those, the Fortress’s defensive strength would easily exceed five thousand.
And in terms of quality, they held an overwhelming advantage.
The average level of the orcs was currently only one hundred fifty-one.
‘It doesn’t matter.’
Victory without sacrifice was a myth.
He had come prepared to bury ten thousand of his own for the sake of taking the Fortress.
The orcs carrying ladders in abundance snorted with anticipation.
They looked ready to charge into flame itself the moment an order came.
Then……
“Vermin! Did you truly believe you could rebel against the Witch and live?”
A massive voice boomed from atop the walls. A man with a long white beard was bellowing across the ramparts, his voice ringing clear and terrible.
“That’s Belitas. A wicked Necromancer who has killed thousands and earned the Witch’s recognition for his power.”
Elise whispered as she drew near.
‘So that’s what he looks like.’
To the eye, he was merely an ordinary old man.
Yet he was clearly a Necromancer of some skill. Immediately, he cried out with arrogant pride.
“You worms have surely heard the name of the Death Knight Order! Soon they will come to sever your necks! Khahahaha!”
The orcs showed no particular reaction to these words, only huffing with contempt.
The elves, however, were different.
“The Death Knight Order……!”
“The Death Knight Order is coming?”
The elves’ eyes widened with terror, their pupils trembling. Only Elise managed to maintain composure.
“Is this Death Knight Order truly so strong?”
“It’s one of the Witch’s personal knight orders. They’ve fought directly in every difficult campaign, and no one has ever survived the edge of their blades.”
In other words, they were formidable opponents.
He let out a soft chuckle.
‘This is getting interesting.’
Gate difficulty was variable by nature.
Hidden Gates especially so—each choice could shift the difficulty. It was routine.
If the Death Knight Order truly possessed that level of power, the difficulty should have changed the moment they arrived.
But the Gate’s difficulty level remained B-Class.
Even the Alert Level hadn’t changed.
Still holding at 31.
‘It has to be one of two things.’
Either the Death Knight Order hadn’t mobilized at all, or they were coming but had no intention of fighting.
Either way, one thing was certain.
The Witch intended to use the Apostle as a sacrificial pawn.
Until now, he hadn’t been sure how deep the bond between Frost Dragon and the Witch really ran.
But now he had his answer.
These two.
They weren’t particularly close.
The logic became crystal clear once you considered what surrendering the Fortress meant.
If the Fortress fell?
The Northern Region would warm.
Frost Dragon’s power would be broken.
Living creatures would flourish again.
A whole new supply of corpses would become available.
A truly loyal blood oath wouldn’t act this way. In the end, it meant their bond was merely a loose arrangement of mutual interest.
So she struck without hesitation, hitting him from behind.
‘Still, she’s careful to observe certain lines—playing it safe, showing deference.’
She hadn’t withdrawn the Fortress’s garrison.
She was even sending reinforcements.
It was all an excuse to account for herself to the Frost Dragon later.
We tried our best to hold the line, but it was beyond our control.
Something like that.
‘Perfect leverage for sowing discord.’
Regardless.
The odds were extremely high that Belitas, who was now shouting with such triumphant confidence, would receive no reinforcements.
“Assemble them!”
―Ork!
He pulled out the items they’d prepared in advance.
Catapults that dwarves had crafted with their own hands using a blueprint.
The orcs, who’d carried each component piece, began assembling the catapults on the battlefield.
Five massive catapults materialized across the field.
He didn’t even need to bring the Fortress down completely with these.
Draining the defenders’ mana alone would more than pay for the effort.
“Fire!”
A colossal stone hurtled toward the Fortress.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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