Holy Emperor's Grandson Is A Necromancer Chapter 13

The relaxing time came to an end, and the peak season arrived on my doorstep.

I had to get ready to perform a continuous stream of one funeral after another. Not only that, during the coldest, harshest time of the year, too.

"We came to escort you."

The Paladins showed up again after a month.

I wrapped myself in a cheap blanket and climbed aboard the horse-drawn carriage.

G.o.d d*mn it, so freaking cold! I might get frostbite, working in rubbish weather conditions like this. It'd be a huge relief if they don't cut off my limbs due to a careless mistake or something.

We went past the forest of the steep mountainside and reached the village nearest to the monastery. Villagers had all packed up their luggage and were slowly marching out, too. Including Gril and Charlotte.

She was carrying luggage far bigger than herself, actually. She saw me in the carriage and bowed her head a little.

Wow. Hey, you. You're pretty strong. Probably stronger than me, no?

I inwardly tutted.

The villagers were also evacuating to the Ronia fiefdom to escape from the upcoming ‘Tide of Death'.

"Just how big is the scale of this Tide of Death, anyway?"

The books I read came across as pure exaggeration. However, if it was indeed as dangerous as they said, then it'd become rather troublesome for me.

"It's unknown, your highness. However, the wave will continue to attack us around the coldest day of the year. Last year, about five thousand undeads attacked the fortress over the span of one week. And the date of December 25th, the day the king of the dead spirits died, saw the highest number of undeads."

Five thousand, was it….

"How many are stationed in the fortress, then?"

"The Ronia fiefdom boasts about twenty thousand-strong combat force, and convicted criminals are regularly brought in. Additional criminals, around two thousand-strong, are scheduled to be s.h.i.+pped in the near future, your highness."

Well, in that case, it shouldn't be that dangerous.

I s.h.i.+fted my gaze over to the distant fiefdom.

Unfortunately, the fortress wasn't as big as I had hoped. It was rather shabby, if I'm honest.

The castle walls were actually a collection of wooden palisades and stone barricades, and they were only around twelve metres high.

Still, there were no visible gaps among them as they surrounded the fiefdom, as if to emphasize their role of protecting the city within.

That place was referred to as the ‘Sacrificial Castle'. The place where ‘sacrifices' were gathered to placate the anger of the dead.

"If only those walls were like the Wall from the Game of XX…."

With the authority of the Holy Emperor, a fortification wall that dwarfed the Great Wall of China in scale could've been built already. Of course, you building such a wall didn't mean its enormous length could be effectively policed. And if one spot were to receive a focused attack, the wall would've been breached, anyway.

So, it was wiser to gather the ‘living' to lure the undeads to a single spot and stop them.

One month.

The ‘Tide of Death' would significantly weaken as long as we endured for one month.

And once the warmer Spring and Summer arrived, the dead would seek to return to the far north once more - to the Land of the Dead Spirits. In order to preserve their bodies from rotting away and to gather more demonic energy in the process.

"There are a lot of convicts here," said I.

A lengthy procession of tied-up prisoners and slaves was entering the Ronia fiefdom. They were the so-called ‘soldiers' a.s.signed to defend against the soon-to-be arriving ‘Tide of Death'.

They were all serious felons saddled with the heavy sentences, such as capital punishment and/or summary executions.

From murder, rape, to armed robbery - rather suitable for sacrificial tools, in other words. In a way, this was a smart and logical way of dealing with the matter, but….

"It was a misunderstanding! I only stole a loaf of bread! I didn't kill anyone…. That, that b*stard Paron, he framed me….!"

One of the prisoners resisted bitterly only to get beaten up black and blue by the soldiers.

I had no doubt that there were a fair few wrongly accused among the procession. Regardless of what the truth was, though, their sacrifices should ensure that the rest of the Continent enjoys another year of relative peace.

"Hang on a minute. I won't get to fight on the frontlines, now will I?"

Since it was possible, I just had to get the clarification for it.

The head Paladin spoke up. "Of course not, your highness. Only the prisoners will be forced to fight on the frontlines."

Well, that's a relief.

"Your role will be to heal the injured and perform the funeral for the deceased, your highness. Every year, we will have around two to three thousand victims."

Well, that's not a relief at all.

"What about other clerics who will a.s.sist me?"

"About 80 Priests able to perform the purification ceremony will be available. However, the soldiers will have to a.s.sist you with the funerals, your highness."

"Are you seriously suggesting that measly 80 people must heal at least two thousand people, and perform purification ceremonies for the dead??"

"Your highness, if you take into account all the undeads coming from the Land of the Dead Spirits, that estimate should be tripled."

"…………"

"Although you might encounter a few dying from overwork every now and then, it'll work out favourably in the end, your highness."

Hey, you. Be honest with me. You're an a.s.sa.s.sin sent by the Holy Emperor, right?

I glared at them in pure dissatisfaction, but rather wisely, the Paladins all ignored me.

We soon reached the fiefdom, and I was immediately summoned by the lord of the place. The feudal lord happened to be a well-rounded man boasting a rather extravagantly-groomed moustache in his mid forties.

I heard that he had been demoted to this place on the suspicion of diverting a portion of taxes meant for the Imperial Palace.

Was that why?

"W-welcome, your highness!!"

The feudal lord treated me quite affectionately for some reason.

"There, there. Please, have some tea, your highness. We have other refreshments available for you to enjoy as well. Ah, you might be feeling weather-beaten, so how about a bath with warm water….?"

Forget about being a feudal lord, he acted more like a manservant in the way he kept bowing his waist and rubbing his hands.

However, the only reason why he was acting so friendly like this was probably because he wanted to return to his original domain by borrowing the power of the ‘Holy Emperor's grandson', the Imperial Prince. Which was me.

"….."

I've begun sensing that maybe, I enjoyed a status far, far higher than what I initially thought?

I recalled the villagers and then glanced at the Paladins still ignoring me. Yup, they were still standing around in utter silence.

Will you look at these cheeky b*stards?

"Well, your highness…. We'll ready a warm meal for you in a minute, so…."

"Give me a room."

"Your highness?"

"I want to rest for a bit, you see. And I'd like someone to serve me during my stay."

A maidservant approached us and placed snacks and cups of black tea on a table. I looked at her with a slimy grin etched on my face.

She flinched in surprise and began s.h.i.+vering away.

That caused the feudal lord to form a troubled expression, before glancing at the Paladins. He then said, "Y-your highness, that might prove to be problematic."

An evil feudal lord wouldn't have hesitated to serve up a measly little maidservant as a sacrifice. However, what with Paladins serving as my monitors hanging around us, he'd not be able to do anything so blatantly.

I found a guy with quick wits about him far more preferable. Right, it would indeed prove to be problematic - if the maidservant did come visit me in my room late at night, it'd be a problem for me.

"Don't be mistaken. I merely wish to relax," said I.

The feudal lord formed an awkward smile. "Aha, haha! I-is that so, your highness? In that case, allow me to show you to your quarters."

He jumped up from his seat and called for his servant. Meanwhile, I sneaked a glance at the head Paladin.

He was observing me through the holes of his helm. I could just about sense him furrow his brows.

Right, take a good look, buddy. I'm still a h.o.r.n.y fool! So, like, you go back home and nicely convince any would-be a.s.sa.s.sin hirers. I mean, they should have plenty of compet.i.tion back home, so can they even afford to spare a moment to worry about an exiled fool like me?

I wanted to live a simple life here. I'd like to avoid the life of constantly running away from the a.s.sa.s.sins, you know.

I was soon guided to my room.

A manservant - not a woman - was tasked with serving me, while a Paladin stuck close as if he was my observer.

The room I was guided to was quite clean and somewhat plain. At the very least, it featured a far, far cus.h.i.+er bed than the hard wooden board that I used back in the monastery, plus a fireplace situated by one of the walls.

I was inwardly satisfied by this arrangement.

I turned my head and stared at both the manservant and the Paladin. The latter stood like a statue tasked with guarding the door, while the former was nervously waiting for my commands.

That made sense, though. This grandson of the Holy Emperor was famed for suddenly beating up servants for no good reason. The stories of the mangnani prince must've done the rounds well before my arrival here.

Rather unsurprisingly, the manservant sneakily covered his cheeks and anxiously waited for me.

"Go fetch me clean water."

"Water…. your highness?"

The servant formed a surprised expression.

"Right. And also… M-mm, get me some booze, too."

The Paladin sneaked a glance at me.

"What's the matter? I'm not even allowed to drink now?"

He s.h.i.+fted his gaze away and returned to his ‘duty'.

Hang on a minute, could this guy be a b.l.o.o.d.y Termi*ator?

Not too long afterwards, the servant brought along a bottle of liquor and some water.

"Oh, thanks. You can go now."

"T-thank you, your highness!"

He quickly escaped from the room.

Now that I was alone, I carefully studied the room again.

This world shouldn't have hidden cameras or stuff like that, right? I wanted to make sure, but I couldn't sense any divinity, demonic energy or mana in the room.

I went ahead and emptied the bottle down the toilet. Then, I poured the water into the bottle before injecting divinity into it.

"I'll die of overwork if things go the way I imagine."

Only 80 people in this place for the purification ceremonies meant for several thousands?? Are you insane?? Priests were supposed to be upper-cla.s.s citizens in this world. Despite that, what a crazy notion of slavery that was!

"I better make some pick-me-ups while I have the chance."

This world unfortunately didn't have energy drinks like "OruXX-C" or "BacXXus-F". So, it would be smarter for me to self-create some and then drink them later. Sure, it was tiring to create holy water, but nothing came close to reinvigorating one's body stained by extreme fatigue.

"And I should take a closer look at these, too."

I extracted the Necromancer's grimoire from the empty air.

"So convenient that my skills and item storage function exactly like a game."

What a fortunate thing that I didn't have to worry about the storage limit, too. Of course, there was a restriction on what could be stored depending on the item's size, but still.

I flipped open the Necromancer's records.

The Necromancy of this world sacrificed ‘demonic energy' and ‘life span' to summon the undead. Perhaps that must be the reason why the Necromancers boasted the level of magic control that easily overshadowed any other types of sorcerers.

As I enjoyed the game-like attribute, I had pretty much nothing to do with the ‘life span' part, but on the flip side, I had seriously poor ‘divinity' control.

I mean, didn't I grant blessings inadvertently back then?

What I needed right now were two things - one, items that either recovered my spent divinity or even greatly increase it. And two, finite, exacting control of how much divinity I could summon at any given situation.

"So, this thing is busy telling me to inject demonic energy into water and refine my control that way."

It emphasized that ‘Breathing' was the connecting chain of one's soul. It said that demonic energy injected via Breathing technique would allow me to exert the greatest level of control. Apparently.

"But that's the story for Necromancers, right? I mean, will it even work for Priests?"

I finished pouring the water into the liquor bottle and breathed into it.

Suddenly, I was slapped with a message popping up in my head, telling me that ‘Blessing' had been activated. Subsequently, I got myself a bottle of holy water.

Compared to how anaemic I felt before, the process felt a lot more easy this time.

"Huh. I guess there was a reward for training the whole of last month, then."

As I expected, the Necromancer's way of magic control was absolutely the best. So different to how Priests would just stupidly dump every dollop of their divinity in one go.

But then again, it made sense - your life was on the line, so if you were sloppy with magic control, then you'd not last one year as a Necromancer. That's just how this profession was like.

Yup, as expected of the extreme profession, the Necromancer! Perfectly befitting the job cla.s.s where one needed to put up life span as collateral before being allowed to use magic.

I nodded my head while perusing the Necromancer's grimoire.

Excellent. When I'm done with this sucker, I should sell it off. I was thinking that it'd earn me some pretty penny later.

Ever since the zombie wave incident, I worked hard to greatly increase my divinity reserve and its power so that I could survive into the future.

I prayed, even though I barely held any faith whatsoever, and tried my best to absorb as much divinity as possible. Then, I'd sneak off to the forest by myself and focused on summoning various undeads, thereby increasing their numbers. To prepare for that off-chance of something unsavoury happening later.

My current problem, though, was that I might die from overwork soon, instead. Which was rather unrelated to all the hard work I had put in.

The more I thought about it, the more p*ssed off I got. How did anyone expect me to perform funerals for thousands of people, anyway??

"No, hang on."

I pondered my dilemma for a while but eventually, shook my head.

There was no need for me to diligently do what they tell me, no? Besides, this place was not my ‘jurisdiction', as it were.

All I had to do was simply say, "Aigoo! I was so tired that I collapsed!", and everything should be fine.

By pretending to be ill, I wouldn't need to risk my life to perform the so-called volunteer service anymore. To think that there was such a wonderful method to game the system!

"Nice. I should just pretend to work hard, up to a point."

With that, even the Paladins should let me off the hook. Just who was I? Even if it's just the sh.e.l.l, wasn't I the Holy Emperor's grandson?

Even if they knew I was just feigning illness, none of them were in a position to force me back to work.

"Still…."

Just in case, I should still create a few more energy recovery drinks.

This world was, quite literally, fantastic. No one knew what might happen, so it'd be wiser to get myself some insurance.

While creating more holy water, I s.h.i.+fted my gaze to my side. There was this one thing that kept nagging me in the corner of my mind. And that was….

"…Yup, that's a gun, alright."

….None other than a musket rifle hanging on the wall as decoration.

< 013.="" imperial="" prince="" is="" toiling="" away="" -2=""> Fin.

(TL: I've no idea what the "OruXX-C" could be. Online searches yielded no concrete results. However, "BaXXus" is a reference to a famous Korean energy tonic, "Bacchus D".)