Monarch of Death

Sebastian, who had been feeling like his blood was drying up with each passing day, finally received the long-awaited news.

“Have you found the Prince?”

A man matching Alford’s description was spotted near Dalaine Street, west of the capital, Drunta.

“Dalaine Street… That’s where Viscount Rontium’s residence is located.”

The Viscount Rontium family was one of Prince Lloyd’s long-standing supporters.

“Did he make contact with them?”

The subordinate giving the report shook his head.

“It doesn’t seem like it.”

The Prince had been wandering the back alleys in shabby vagrant attire. This indicated he was lingering near the Viscount’s residence, waiting for the right opportunity.

Sebastian could understand this.

Revealing his identity recklessly might get him killed by his own subordinates. Prince Lloyd himself would surely be aware of something even Sebastian could easily deduce.

Given that he had been embroiled in conspiracies since birth, it was only natural for him to be cautious.

In any case, it was truly fortunate.

There was still an opportunity to recover from this failure.

“Send the Crimson Flame Corps.”

The Crimson Flame Corps were not knights. However, depending on the situation, they were a force that could rival knights.

Knights were typically those who donned armor, rode horses, and fought on the battlefield. But combat doesn’t always take place on a battlefield.

In situations involving kidnappings, confinement, assassination of key figures, and small-scale urban battles, there were many who could be stronger than knights—adventurers or members of a thieves’ guild, for instance.

For over ten years, Prince Alford had been embroiled in endless intrigue, so such forces were just as essential as knights.

That’s why he had secretly raised a personal guard, the Crimson Flame Corps, who moved like his own limbs.

There was no one more suited to quietly securing Prince Alford’s body than these individuals.

For the first time in a while, a relieved smile appeared on Sebastian’s face.

“Finally, we can bring the Prince back.”

***

As the sun set, darkness enveloped Dalaine Street.

A group of 20 men moved through the sparsely populated road. Though they appeared to be dressed in ordinary clothing, they were discreetly armed to the teeth.

Walking naturally along the street, one of the men spoke up.

“Is this really okay?”

These men, members of the Crimson Flame Corps, had carried out countless covert missions. Many of those missions were difficult to understand.

Even so, this particular order seemed especially strange.

『Prince Alford has been poisoned or affected by magic, causing him to lose his sanity. Currently, the Prince is not in his right mind and may even perceive the Crimson Flame Corps as enemies. Focus solely on securing him, even if it means inflicting wounds, as long as they aren’t life-threatening or result in the loss of limbs.』

“To say it’s fine to wound the Prince…”

“No matter how clouded his mind is, that’s a bit…”

The sharp-featured man in his twenties leading the group responded bluntly. It was Bellart, the leader of the Crimson Flame Corps.

“As long as he doesn’t die or lose his limbs, he can be fully healed with holy healing magic. We’re not really harming him.”

Despite this, his subordinates remained doubtful.

Bellart was troubled.

‘This is difficult.’

As the captain, he knew the truth.

Currently, Prince Alford and Prince Lloyd’s bodies had been swapped, and this was all part of Alford’s plan.

However, he couldn’t reveal such critical information to his subordinates.

As a result, he had to issue these seemingly contradictory and strange orders.

Forcing himself to change the subject, Bellart asked, “What’s the current location of the Prince?”

One of the subordinates who had been on reconnaissance replied, “Somewhere inside that alley. The exits have already been blocked, so he won’t be able to escape.”

“No one else is with him?”

“At least from what I observed, there was no sign of that.”

“Still, always be on guard, just in case.”

It had been quite some time since Prince Lloyd had escaped. Even if he hadn’t made contact with his former subordinates, there was a possibility he had found other allies.

“If the Prince has any allies with him, kill them without hesitation. They are likely the ones who poisoned him.”

The men hesitated again and asked in confusion, “But wouldn’t it be better not to kill them?”

“Shouldn’t we try to find out who’s behind this?”

They were right. Under normal circumstances, Bellart would have fully agreed with them.

‘Lying is such a hassle in so many ways.’

In situations like this, the best approach was just to shout them down.

“Stop overthinking it and just follow your orders! That’s why we’re here!”

Finally, the members of the Crimson Flame Corps began to move without further protest.

They each spread out and started to slip into the back alleys.

Watching them, Bellart frowned.

‘Why on earth did Prince Alford decide to team up with those cultists…?’

***

Finding the Prince was easier than expected.

The Crimson Flame Corps members were scattered in small groups throughout the back alleys, and two of them spotted a raggedly dressed man standing in a corner. Though his clothes were shabby, there was no doubt it was Prince Alford.

One of the men cautiously approached and spoke.

“We’ve come to escort you, Your Highness.”

The Prince looked at them indifferently and asked, “Do I look like Prince Alford to you?”

The men’s expressions hardened.

‘So it’s true that his mind has become clouded…’

‘It seems to be the case.’

This wasn’t the Alford they knew. Not just his tone, but the subtle expressions and the look in his eyes were entirely different.

Taking a combat stance, one of the corps members spoke respectfully.

“If you resist, we have orders to take you by force.”

“We’re doing this for your sake, Your Highness. Please forgive us.”

The Prince smiled faintly.

“Give it a try.”

“…What?”

“I said, give it a try.”

It was then that a cold wind suddenly blew. A chilling breeze brushed past their backs.

‘Hmm?’

They instinctively felt a sense of unease that they couldn’t simply dismiss as just the night wind.

But the members of the Crimson Flame Corps didn’t know why.

Not until a strange, eerie sound emerged from behind the Prince, and a pale, ghostly figure began to rise.

Ssssshhh…

Two streams of darkness transformed into evil spirits, gliding through the air. The men’s eyes widened in shock.

“Gasp!”

“What is this?”

The evil spirits soon descended upon them.

The once-quiet alley echoed with terrifying screams.

“Aaaagh!”

“Ahhhh!”

***

All around the back alleys, darkness flowed, and evil spirits rampaged.

“Ughhh!”

“A-a monster!”

No matter how much they tried to run, it was futile.

The walls opened, extending tendrils, and the ground cracked, spewing out corpses.

Even the air they breathed was tainted with an oppressive, evil energy, causing their lungs to freeze and tears to dry up just by running.

“Grrr, gghhh…”

“Ughhh…”

The 20 members of the Crimson Flame Corps who had entered the back alleys were all dying helplessly.

And their captain, Bellart, was no exception.

Grrr…

Ughhh…

Countless zombies approached, emitting eerie groans as they surrounded the narrow alley.

Bellart and the two remaining members, now trapped, grew increasingly pale.

His subordinates cried out in desperation.

“Captain!”

“What should we do?”

Bellart had no answer to give.

All his training had been against human opponents.

All the missions he had carried out had been against human enemies.

Enemies who could be cut, stabbed, and bled, eventually falling to the ground.

But what if the enemy was a moving corpse? What if a formless evil spirit was hunting their lives?

He had no idea how to deal with such threats.

“What… what is this…?”

As the horde of zombies closed in, Bellart was engulfed in despair.

‘Why is there a necromancer with the Prince?’

A pitiful death cry echoed into the night sky.

“Aaaagh!”

***

Two days earlier, Karnak had asked:

“How can we make the cultists allied with Prince Alford come out into the open?”

First, they needed to understand why these cultists weren’t revealing themselves.

The first reason was the risk of their identities being exposed.

The second was that there hadn’t been any opponents strong enough to warrant the cultists—or more specifically, the necromancers—taking action.

“In other words, we just need to create a situation where there’s no fear of their identities being exposed, and where only necromancers can solve the problem.”

His solution to this was, at first glance, absurd.

“We’ll deal with them using a necromancer of our own.”

If Prince Lloyd’s ally is a necromancer, then?

Since both sides are in hiding, the cultists on Alford’s side wouldn’t be able to rush out and report anything. This solves the first problem.

Moreover, if their forces include a necromancer, Alford’s existing subordinates would naturally find it difficult to face them—simply because they’ve never encountered anything like this before.

Normally, they would have to summon a cleric or a mage to handle such a situation, but under the current circumstances, they can’t openly involve outsiders.

But if the cultists themselves are forced to act?

They would be well-versed in necromancy and could handle the situation without issue.

“Most importantly, necromancers can steal each other’s necromantic power to enhance their own abilities. They’d be driven by greed to engage because if they don’t, someone else might take what they covet.”

Lloyd looked puzzled.

At first glance, it sounded plausible, but there was one crucial premise to this plan.

“Where are we supposed to find this necromancer? Do you have one locked up somewhere in the King’s Order?”

“Of course not.”

The King’s Order secretly hiding a necromancer? Someone as rigid as Commander Erantel would never allow that.

“But we do have several confiscated evil artifacts.”

Karnak smiled slyly.

Zombies? Evil spirits? Various sinister necromantic barriers?

With illusion magic, one could create something that looked quite similar using magic.

For example, casting an illusion of a zombie on a magically controlled puppet or overlaying an evil spirit’s image with spirit magic.

But most people wouldn’t be fooled by something like that.

The real problem lies in the evil energy and malevolent aura that inevitably accompany necromancy.

These evoke a primal fear and instinctual revulsion that any living creature, even a layperson, would immediately recognize.

“So, we’ll use illusion magic in combination with the cult’s confiscated artifacts to spread that evil energy and malevolent aura. This way, it will look like real necromancy is being used.”

“Is that really possible?”

“It’s a technique we’ve been developing recently to deceive other necromancers.”

“Indeed, given the nature of the King’s Order’s missions, something like that would be necessary.”

Satisfied, Lloyd nodded.

“Proceed with the plan.”

Recalling his conversation with Karnak, Lloyd gazed into the darkness of the back alley.

Beyond that darkness, all manner of screams echoed, evil spirits rampaged, and corpses reanimated to kill the living.

Eventually, the screams ceased. It seemed the situation was over.

Soon after, a red-haired woman approached Lloyd.

“Were you hurt at all, Your Highness?”

It was Dame Serati, a member of Karnak’s team.

“Not a scratch. Captain Karnak’s magic is truly impressive. Did everything go well?”

“We let two of them escape. They’ll make sure to testify as planned.”

It seemed the plan had unfolded perfectly.

Relieved, Lloyd let out a sigh of admiration.

“By the way, it was really convincing. With this, they’re bound to be fooled.”

Karnak’s magic was truly realistic.

It truly looked like zombies, and it really seemed like evil spirits.

“Even though I know the truth, it still looked like genuine necromancy to me.”

Serati made a strange expression.

“Y-Yes, I suppose it would.”

“Hm? Why are you making that face?”

“Oh, it’s nothing… really…”