The Genesis Of A Necromancer

The guards instinctively stepped aside, their movements synchronized as if they had rehearsed this moment a thousand times. Their eyes widened with a mixture of awe and fear, for they knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that the woman who stood before them was no ordinary person.

She was not someone they had expected. They were well-versed in the identity of most, if not all, of the powerful figures who walked the earth, but this—this woman was different. While other kingdoms remained oblivious to the identities of the Twelve Patrons, those in the Church revered them as living legends, figures of myth and power. They longed to be chosen, to be marked by the Patrons, for even a fleeting moment in their presence was considered an honor.

But Kiara—Kiara was the head. The one who led them all.@@novelbin@@

Her very appearance seemed to defy reason. She had not passed through the door, at least not in any way that the guards could comprehend. One moment the door had been closed, and the next, Kiara stood there, as though she had emerged from thin air. A ripple of disbelief spread through the guards. How had she gotten here? Had she walked through the door, or had she never passed through it at all?

Maria's eyes narrowed in disbelief. She had been watching the door with careful precision, and she had seen the flash of movement. A blur of speed so intense that if she hadn't witnessed it herself, she would have doubted its existence. No one could move that fast.

"And who might you be to interfere?" Maria's voice was sharp, her tone full of challenge.

Kiara took a step forward, her presence overwhelming the very air around them. The air grew heavier, as if the world itself had paused in respect. She had said nothing yet, but her power and poise spoke volumes. When her voice finally cut through the silence, it was like the sound of distant thunder—low, but carrying an undeniable weight.

"I am here to ensure you do not disrupt what lies within those doors, or even enter the place," Kiara's voice was calm, but there was no mistaking the authority in her words. "Leave now, Flame Overlord, or you will regret it."

Maria's lips curled into a sinister smile. "Regret?" she echoed, the word dripping with venom. "You dare threaten me?"

A dangerous energy crackled in the air between them. The tension was palpable, like the moment before a storm, where the winds had fallen still, and only the inevitable clash remained. Maria's hands ignited with deep, blood-red flames, the heat from them rising instantly and setting the temperature of the room ablaze.

But before the flames could engulf the space, the door to the sanctuary opened with a heavy creak, and several more figures stepped out. Maria's gaze shifted to them, and she immediately recognized the leader of the group.

Carlos.

His posture was stiff, composed—his hands were crossed behind his back in that practiced way of his, as though he were too detached from the situation to care about anything. But there was a dangerous sharpness in his eyes that told a different story.

"Maria, what is it that you're looking for, and why have you decided to disturb our peace?" His voice was calm, but there was an undercurrent of authority in it, a warning wrapped in politeness.

Maria took a long, slow look at him before her gaze flicked over the group behind him. There were twenty-two of them. Each one exuded a palpable aura of power, a sharp, focused energy that matched Kiara's. These weren't just random followers. No, Maria could feel the strength in them. They were just as formidable as Kiara herself.

A knot of unease twisted in her stomach. If it came to a fight, Maria knew, deep down, that her odds of surviving were slim. This was no ordinary gathering. She wasn't here for a confrontation—at least, not one she could win. She was here to deliver a message, nothing more.

Maria exhaled slowly, releasing the fire from her hands and letting the heat dissipate, the room's oppressive warmth returning to a more manageable chill.

"Carlos," she began, her voice steady, but the hint of irritation still lingered in her tone. "All the other Lords are waiting for you and your men. I hope you do not wish to repeat what you did last time. Because if you do, the outcome will be something you definitely won't like."

She didn't address him with his title. She didn't use 'Lord' or 'Sir.' To her, it was a deliberate sign of disrespect, a small rebellion in the midst of this tense exchange. But when she looked at Carlos, her words hung in the air unanswered. To her surprise, he didn't react. Neither did any of the others.

Not a flicker of emotion crossed their faces. Not even the slightest sign of offense.

Maria's frown deepened. That was… odd. She had expected something, anything, some kind of reaction to her blatant disrespect. But there was nothing. No anger. No surprise. Just cold indifference.

Her eyes shifted to Carlos. His eyes, once a vibrant dark blue, were now a dull, lifeless shade. It wasn't just him. She glanced at the others, and they all had the same color in their eyes—dark, empty, and lifeless, as though their souls had been drained away.

Maria's pulse quickened, and a sinking feeling began to take hold of her. Something was wrong. Deeply wrong.

She shifted her gaze toward the sanctuary's door. There, at the edge of her vision, was a sliver of space—a glimpse into the room behind them. But before she could focus on it, Kiara moved with unnatural speed and closed the door with a single motion, sealing off whatever mysteries lay inside.

Maria's frown deepened, her unease mounting. She took a step forward, but then Carlos' voice broke through her thoughts.

"No," he said, his voice cold, final. "We do not plan on delaying any longer. We have something to find in the planes. We leave today."

Maria froze for a moment, the words settling heavily in her mind. Something to find in the planes? She had thought the plan was to destroy the planes, to find the two missing children. This new information didn't add up.

But before she could voice her concerns, Carlos continued, his tone almost mocking. "Since I've answered you, we should get going. I don't see a reason for you to still be standing here. Or are you looking for something? If so, don't blame me for being harsh."

The last words were like a cold knife in the air. "These grounds are the holy grounds of the church, which no one who is not a member of the church is meant to tread upon. I only ignored you because you came to inform us, but if you have any business other than that, I will simply have you executed this moment. Please, do not push my hand."

Maria's fist tightened at the threat. She felt the urge to retaliate, to lash out. She burned to know what was happening behind those doors, what had become of those who entered. But the words of warning echoed in her mind—this wasn't the time. Not here. Not now. An all-out war between her kingdom and the church would be devastating.

With a heavy sigh, Maria turned on her heel and walked away, her flaming wings sprouting behind her. She shot one last glance at the church before soaring into the sky, her mind racing.

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What was going on?

The strange people she had seen with Carlos, the odd uniform Kiara wore, the coldness in their eyes—it was all too much to ignore. She couldn't shake the feeling that the Patrons, the unseen ones, were more involved in this than she had originally thought.

If they are joining the conquest, then nothing will be the same. Everything is about to change.

Maria couldn't shake the nagging feeling in her chest as she flew, a sense of impending doom clinging to her every thought. Something was coming, and she couldn't tell if it was a force she could stop, or one that would crush her.