Rise of the Supreme Necromancer-Chapter 63: Fools and Traitors

Several days ago.

In a small dark cell with a single tiny window was sitting a pale man in dirty and bloodied clothing. His hands were shackled behind his back, and on his neck was an iron collar with a sharp two-pronged fork sticking under the man’s chin, forcing him to hold his head very high.

The strange device was called "the warlock’s fork" and prevented mages from reading spells by not letting them open their mouths at all.

The door to the cell opened, making the prisoner huddle toward the wall. When he saw his visitor, the prisoner began shaking.

Inquisitor Garron Redain stepped into the cell and closed the door behind him. His pet raven, Judi, was riding on his shoulder.

"Krenn Ellians... You didn’t expect to see me again, I know." Garron nodded to himself. "Your guilt was proven and admitted many times over already. Disturbance of graves, usage of Dark magic, placing curses on people for payment, keeping books on Dark magic in your possession... Enough crimes for five executions."

Krenn stared at Garron with wide eyes.

Just two days earlier, Garron was directing his subordinates to torture him until he gave out the names of all his clients. Even though Krenn spilled them all immediately, they still tortured him to make sure he didn’t lie or hide anything.

Now, Krenn just hoped the Church would kill him by hanging instead of the stake and pyre.

"But there’s greater evil in Aleshat, Krenn. And this requires me to allow... Concessions. I have a deal for you, Krenn—your last and only time to earn yourself a life. And even freedom."

Krenn’s eyes widened. This was too good to be true, but he still had to listen.

"There’s a powerful necromancer on the loose. I doubt you heard of him, considering when you were caught. His name is Aleric Fenn, but I was told he also calls himself Supreme Necromancer. He also accepts apprentices. I need you to travel to Oakdale and become his follower. The Church will give you the fastest horse we have so you can do it faster. Do whatever you need to prove your loyalty... Then, inform me of all Aleric’s movements. All his strengths, all his weaknesses... Everything he might share with a close apprentice."

Garron raised his hand and scratched Judi’s chin. The raven made a purring sound.

"This is Adjudicator. She will be a messenger between us."

He looked back at Krenn.

"Do you agree? Spy on the ’Supreme Necromancer’, and when he burns on the stake, you will walk away as a free and innocent man. On an oath to never use Dark magic again, of course. Refuse, and you will be the one burning. The pyre is being prepared as we speak. Now, make a sound if you agree."

Krenn made a whining sound.

Garron nodded, satisfied, and pulled a key to the warlock’s cage from his pocket. He unlocked the cage and waited for Krenn to finally stretch his aching neck.

"I will do it, I promise, Master Garron. But you promise, too! Swear on the Light!"

"I swear on the Light that as long as you serve the Church and spy on Aleric Fenn, you will be granted full amnesty for past crimes after his death. But for the future ones."

Krenn smiled, but wilted again under the harsh gaze of Garron.

"Aleric Fenn is truly powerful. You might even be tempted to join his side, thinking that he will win." Garron lowered his face toward Krenn. "Whenever this happens, remember how the Dark Spires fell. With this necromancer, it will happen much, much sooner."

***

Present day.

Aleric’s undead servant horse neighed and reared to not trample a man who had just ran under its hooves. Gasping, Aleric clutched the horse’s neck, dropping the Spine Staff from his hands.

He was regretting ordering the horse to stop! He should have just let it trample the fool that was kneeling on the ground!

"Master Fenn!" Samuel exclaimed, riding closer.

Unlike Aleric, who had barely gotten used to riding a horse that could move at a pace faster than walking, Samuel was an excellent rider. He directed his recently raised undead servant horse with mental commands, and they moved in perfect synchrony, like a single unit.

Samuel caught Aleric before he could fall off his mount, then jumped off the horse to pass Aleric the Spine Staff.

All the while, the man who caused this entire commotion was watching it with shocked and fearful eyes.

"I... I apologize, Lord Necromancer..."

"It’s Lord Fenn or Master Fenn for you, worm. What do you want?" Samuel asked, stomping toward the man. "Master Fenn, should I arrest him?"

"No, wait."

Aleric squinted at the kneeling man.

Underneath the road dust, he was young, fair-faced, and light-haired. But more importantly, there was an aura around him...

"You are an idiot, but you are a Dark mage, right? A very weak one..."

"Yes! My name is Jarrik Rammilk. I heard about you, your deeds, and your might all the way from Diawale County! I’m just a pathetic worm compared to your might, Lord Fenn, but I’m very talented, I promise. If you take me as your apprentice, you won’t regret it! I will clean your shoes, and write down your every word, and work very hard!"

Samuel grimaced underneath his helmet.

"Another one... It looks like I was doing my duties poorly in life."

Aleric stared down at the fool with torn feelings.

Living fools weren’t as amusing as the undead, since Aleric could become a victim of their foolishness—like just now. On the other hand, he needed more underlings. Always more.

"How many spells do you know?"

"Dozens, Master Fenn! How to summon the vision of your future husband in a mirror, how to banish trickster spirits from your shoulder, how to—"

"Don’t shame my master with this reply!" Spine Staff interrupted. "Actual spells, not the village superstitions!"

Jarrik gaped at Spine Staff silently.

Aleric rubbed the bridge of his nose.

Was this Dark mage going to be more trouble than he was worth?