The Genesis Of A Necromancer

"So, if I'm correct, you want us to attack the smaller cities first before targeting the larger ones?" Carlos asked, his voice heavy with skepticism. His old, wrinkled face turned toward Drack, his frown deepening as he sought clarity.

Drack leaned back in his chair, the flickering lantern light casting sharp shadows across his calm expression. His piercing amber eyes, partially hidden behind strands of silver hair, locked on Carlos. "Indeed. A direct assault on the capital city is ill-advised. Taking down the smaller cities first will ensure the central city remains isolated when they call for reinforcements. We can use our numbers against them. It's a strategy that minimizes losses and increases our chances of survival. These demons, especially the higher ranks, are not to be underestimated. Their intelligence is formidable. Acting without caution would be suicide."

His voice was measured, but there was an undeniable weight behind his words. Drack wasn't merely theorizing; he was issuing a warning. Though he wouldn't directly participate in the upcoming battles, he knew his kingdom wouldn't escape the consequences if the plan failed. The demons wouldn't see this as a singular act of defiance—they would see it as a declaration of war.

The room fell silent for a moment, the council members exchanging glances. The air was heavy with tension, but Drack's expression remained unreadable.

Carlos narrowed his eyes, clearly unconvinced. "I see your point, but…"

Drack ignored him and shifted his gaze toward the map spread out on the table. It detailed the terrain and key cities of the demon planes, each marked with intricate symbols and annotations. His mind wandered briefly to the incident at the academy, the catalyst for this war.

'If they came for one student, I find it hard to believe that a single individual could have triggered such chaos across the planes. A weakling like him? No… their true target must have been the Lady of the Church.'

His jaw tightened at the thought. The church's interference had brought nothing but complications. If this conquest were to succeed, they needed to rely on their numbers, strategy, and the element of surprise—not arrogance or blind faith in their supposed superiority over the demons.

"I believe his suggestion is the best course of action," Aldermond chimed in, breaking the silence. His voice was firm, yet respectful. The gray-haired mage, known for his calculated demeanor, cast an approving glance at Drack. "Drack has always been cautious, and his foresight is unmatched. He isn't just an alchemist—he's a tactician. If he says this is the way forward, I trust his judgment."

Aldermond's words carried weight. Despite his humble tone, everyone in the room knew he was no ordinary mage. As one of the few individuals to have witnessed Drack's puppets in action, his trust wasn't given lightly.

Drack's puppets were more than mere creations—they were his soldiers, each one a masterpiece of alchemical ingenuity. Stories of his prowess had spread far and wide, especially after the infamous battle with the Avalonian Kingdom. Drack's forces had decimated their troops, leaving no survivors to tell the tale. Though the Kingdom of Alchemists was often mocked as the weakest, that day solidified their reputation as a force not to be trifled with.@@novelbin@@

"True," added the Beast King, his voice a deep rumble that matched his imposing presence. "This way, the battles will be easier. Picking off the weaker cities first will allow us to consolidate power before facing the capital. Rushing in headfirst is a fool's strategy."

With most of the lords in agreement, Carlos found himself outnumbered. The only person who hadn't spoken yet was Baguk, the King of Blades. The room turned to him expectantly, but he remained unusually quiet, his broad arms crossed over his chest. His scarred face, framed by a graying beard, betrayed no emotion.

Carlos sighed and finally addressed him directly. "What's your take on this, Baguk?"

Baguk glanced up lazily, his deep gray eyes meeting Carlos's. "It's not a bad idea. It's a good one," he said simply, his tone unusually subdued. He shifted slightly in his seat, his large frame making the chair creak under his weight.

Carlos frowned. Baguk's lack of enthusiasm was… strange. Normally, the King of Blades was fiery and quick to voice his opinion, especially when it came to military matters. Yet here he sat, calm and almost indifferent.

"The idea is sound," Carlos conceded reluctantly. "But wouldn't it be better to strike the capital while our forces are still at their peak? Even a demon overlord would struggle against three SSS-rank mages and three sword saints working together. If we act now, we could end this quickly."

Baguk raised an eyebrow but didn't respond immediately. Instead, Aldermond spoke again, his voice sharp. "Carlos, that's precisely the kind of arrogance Drack warned against. You're underestimating the overlords. Even with all our power, there's no guarantee of victory if we face them head-on. The plan stands as it is."

The room fell silent again, and Carlos visibly bristled. His fingers twitched as he scratched at his arm, a nervous habit that didn't go unnoticed. "Very well," he muttered coldly. "If that's what you all want."

Without another word, Carlos stormed out of the tent, his footsteps echoing in the quiet night.

As he left, a figure standing in the shadows stepped aside, watching him with narrowed eyes. The man's arms were crossed, his expression unreadable. Only when Carlos had disappeared into the darkness did the figure move, slipping into the tent where the council remained.

The others turned to him as he entered, their gazes heavy with expectation.

"It's just as you said, Alogra," Aldermond began, his voice grim. "Something isn't right. The church is hiding something, and they don't want us to know."

Alogra, the enigmatic warrior whose mere presence commanded attention, stepped forward. His dark cloak swayed as he moved, and the faint flicker of the lanterns illuminated his stern features. His sharp eyes, the color of polished steel, scanned the room.

"I wouldn't have believed it myself," Drack added, his tone as calm as ever. "But Carlos's behavior was… off. He never argues once we've reached a consensus. Either the church is hiding something, or they're starting to stray from their original purpose."

Baguk let out a low, mocking laugh, drawing everyone's attention. "I've said it time and again. You're all too soft on that little faction. You've let them grow bold, poking their heads out of their hole."

Alogra didn't respond to Baguk's jest. His gaze was fixed on the flickering flames of the lantern. "It's not just arrogance or secrecy," he said quietly. "Something else is at play. The church isn't just hiding something—they're preparing for something. And whatever it is, we'd better find out before it's too late."

The room fell silent once more, the weight of his words hanging heavily in the air.

He had initially come for the sole purpose of knowing what happened to his student, but it seemed things were quite different from what he had expected. A lot of forces were acting under the curtain, forces that he couldn't understand.

Even he was curious to know how things would turn out. Similarly, the others had similar thoughts in their minds.

Just what could the church be hiding?

******

In a pitch-black forest, a flash of white light shone brightly, and in the next second, four figures appeared out of thin air.

Jack stood. He had already reached his destination, yet, for some reason, he seemed to be lost.

'How is it possible?' Jack mused, his gaze shining with disbelief. 'It can't be possible. There's no way the gleam dome could exist in this world. The two worlds are totally different... yes, they're different....'

"Big brother... Big brother!"

Jack had failed to hear Missy's shout while he was still lost in his thoughts. He received a stinging pinch from her and a knock from Alisha at the same time.

"Ouch," he winced, coming out of his daze.

"We've arrived at the location," Alisha said with an angry look on her face.

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She always tried to maintain her stoic composure around Jack, but Jack could tell at this point that it was all a facade. He had been with her long enough to know that she was someone who cared about others a lot, yet she had a double personality of some sort.

Sometimes, she could be as cold as ice, and the next moment, she was as kind and holy as a dove.

He often found it hard to read her moods.

"I see, uhm... I was lost in my thoughts..." Jack wanted to apologize, but the words failed to leave his mouth. He received a spank at the back of his head from Alisha.

"I'll kill you if you don't learn to apologize."

Jack wanted to retort, but as he turned to look at Alisha, for some reason, the words hung in his mouth, and he could only say, "S... Sorry," he managed with much difficulty.

"Let's get going," he said firmly, walking ahead quickly to diffuse the awkward moment.