Within the seven goddesses’ churches, inquisitors who dealt with necromancers were ranked into three classes. Third-class: These were fresh trainees who had just completed their education and were newly assigned to fieldwork. They weren’t skilled enough to confront necromancers directly, so they typically handled follow-up tasks such as disposing of bodies and purifying areas tainted by malice. Second-class: Inquisitors at this level were ready for field deployment. Their primary duty was to track necromancers. While securing evidence and reporting to the church was their main goal, circumstances sometimes forced them into direct combat with necromancers. The risk was high, and many second-rank inquisitors were lost in the line of duty, making them the backbone of the church’s resources. First-class: First-class inquisitors had the authority to lead operations. They could investigate, secure evidence, and mete out punishment on their own. They were also allowed to manage church funds, enabling them to hire skilled adventurers when necessary. While first-class inquisitors were powerful enough to handle most necromancers alone, they rarely hired adventurers. Instead, they preferred working with local knights or mages from noble families. Unlike adventurers, who demanded payment, nobles sought honor and influence. For the church, fostering relationships with nobles was far more cost-effective than hiring mercenaries. This was precisely why Alius had taken an interest in Karnak and his group. Even though the church could afford to spend its budget, it was always better to solve problems for free. Karnak and Varos had proven their strength, and if their noble lineage could be confirmed, they would make the perfect allies. Thus, upon returning to the church, Alius had looked into the Zestrad family and learned of their hatred for necromancy. He lost his parents and siblings to a necromancer and nearly had their entire estate seized! They have every reason to despise necromancers! Of course, the late Randolph might have protested this characterization, but Alius had no way of knowing that. Three days after the Gelpha village incident, Alius formally requested their cooperation. “In the name of the Church of Hatoba, we humbly ask for your assistance. Could you support the church’s mission, even if it’s only during your stay in Derath City?” Karnak agreed without hesitation. “It would be an honor. I will gladly lend my aid in the name of the Zestrad family.” After all, they were already hunting necromancers and collecting the Shadow of Doom. [And if they’re offering free information, why would we refuse?] Beside him, Varos chimed in via magical communication. [There is a reason to refuse, isn’t there?] The seven goddesses’ churches typically assigned a capable inquisitor to any external collaborators. [That means a priest from the Church of Hatoba will be tagging along with us.] Having an observer would make it harder to use necromancy freely or secretly siphon off fragments of the Shadow of Doom. When Varos pointed this out, Karnak responded with complete confidence. [I figured this might happen, so I looked into it beforehand.] The Church of Hatoba currently didn’t have the manpower to assign inquisitors to every collaborator. Fighting necromancers required specialized, highly trained clergy, not just any priest. But with an overwhelming number of Shadow of Doom cases piling up, even the seven goddesses’ churches as a whole—let alone the Church of Hatoba—were stretched thin. Unless the situation was particularly dire, the churches now preferred to supply their collaborators with information and let them handle matters independently. [So, it’ll just be the two of us?] Varos asked. And that wasn’t even the best part. Alius, looking slightly apologetic, explained further, “You may already know this, but given the current circumstances, it’s difficult for us to assign inquisitors unless the situation is truly critical. However, we can provide you with ample holy water and talismans to combat necromancy. With your skills, I’m confident you’ll manage.” [See? No inquisitors to babysit us, and they’re giving us free holy water and talismans!] For others, this might have been a risky arrangement, but for Karnak and Varos, it was a deal with no downsides. Why would they refuse? Karnak accepted without hesitation, and Alius couldn’t help but be impressed. To take on such danger without hesitation—what a noble character. How did someone ever earn such a wild reputation? Varos recalled the arrangement as he murmured to himself. “Alius did say they wouldn’t assign inquisitors unless it was something major, right?” “And so far, he’s just been sending us information about necromancers in the western region.” The letter they had received earlier, however, was different. Until now, the letters had included detailed information about rumored necromancers near Derath City, focusing on those with a high probability of being real threats. This time, there was no such information. It only requested a meeting. The lack of details suggested a heightened concern about information leaks. “So, does this mean...” The streets of Derath City were bustling as twilight set in. Varos continued speaking as they weaved through the crowds of people hurrying home before dark. “...something big has happened?” “Probably,” Karnak replied with a shrug. “It does seem urgent. Alius doesn’t usually reach out this quickly.” Typically, after handling a necromancer, they’d have about three days of downtime before hearing back from the church. This time, however, they had received a message less than half a day after dealing with Luke. Varos frowned. “Do you think it’ll be okay? If it’s something big, an inquisitor might get assigned to us. Actually, from the looks of it, Alius himself might be the one joining us.” “I’ll admit it’s a bit concerning...” Karnak said with a grin, “...but it could also be a good thing. If the situation is urgent enough for a personal meeting, it’s probably a significant event.” And where there was a big event, there were usually substantial rewards. The Hatoba temple was now visible in the distance. Karnak’s tone grew optimistic. “Who knows? If we’re lucky, this might be the opportunity to take out ten Lords of Darkness at once.” When Karnak and Varos arrived at the Hatoba Temple, they were quickly escorted to a reception room. Alius greeted them warmly as they entered. “Welcome, both of you.” There were two other people in the room besides Alius: a man in his mid-thirties dressed in robes, and a strikingly beautiful woman in her twenties wearing light armor. Karnak cautiously asked, “And these are?” Judging by their attire, it was clear the man was a mage and the woman a knight, but Karnak didn’t recognize either of them. The brown-haired man stepped forward and introduced himself. “It’s an honor to meet the renowned Baron Karnak and Sir Varos. I am Riltaine, a sixth-circle mage.” Varos immediately acknowledged him. “Ah, so you’re Mr. Riltaine.” Karnak, however, sent Varos a magical message. [He’s one of our rivals. Remember when Alius mentioned having another high-ranking mage as a collaborator besides you?] [Ah, so he’s the guy who scooped us twice?] Karnak finally recalled. Alius had several collaborators besides Karnak’s group, but Riltaine was particularly notable among them for his achievements. The number of necromancers Riltaine had hunted so far was an impressive eight—more than even Karnak’s tally. Yet Riltaine seemed genuinely impressed with Karnak’s achievements. “I heard you’ve taken down six necromancers in less than two months. Truly remarkable work.” “Just a streak of good luck,” Karnak replied, feigning humility while carefully appraising Riltaine. Fınd the newest release on 𝕟𝕠𝕧𝕖𝕝·𝘧𝙞𝙧𝙚·𝔫𝔢𝔱 Though the mage’s mana was subdued, Karnak could still get a sense of his strength from the faint energy radiating from him. It seems he’s only recently advanced to the sixth circle. His mana is still unstable. Even so, Riltaine was undoubtedly one of the most formidable figures in the region surrounding Derath City. Magic was the result of channeling mana into a conceptual space within one’s body called the mana hole. By shaping this mana into intricate circular formulas known as circles, mages could manifest supernatural effects in the real world. The more powerful the spell, the more mana and complex the formula it required. A mage’s prowess was defined by the number of circles they had mastered. 1st–2nd circle was known as the novice stage, often referred to as apprentice mages. While they could use magic, they lacked the qualifications to be considered full-fledged mages. 3rd–5th circle were regular mages. This level was the most common, encompassing mages who could perform practical magic for daily use as well as combat spells with moderate lethality. Most people envisioned mages of this tier when they thought of a typical mage. 6th–8th circle were advanced mages. Such mages were highly respected wherever they went, and they possessed the power to annihilate dozens single-handedly and could turn the tide of a battlefield when working in groups. They were often compared to high-level aura users in their combat capabilities. 9th circle mages were considered masters. These mages were powerful figures known across the continent, often serving as royal court mages, commanders of magical forces, or heads of prestigious magic towers. Lastly, there was the 10th circle. It was considered the pinnacle of magic, and those who had reached this stage had transcended human limits. Only three such beings existed on the continent, known as the Archmages. Their power was incomparable, existing on a plane entirely their own. Currently, Karnak was masquerading as a 4th-circle mage—a respectable but ordinary level. In contrast, Riltaine, at the 6th circle, was significantly superior in magical rank. Though that’s only when considering chaos mana alone, Karnak thought. Meanwhile, Varos was eyeing the woman with curiosity. [I don’t recognize her. Did Alius ever mention a beautiful knight among his collaborators?] She had striking crimson hair and soft reddish-brown eyes. While not a beauty capable of overturning nations, she was undeniably attractive. Her physique, honed through years of training, exuded an untamed energy that even her light armor couldn’t hide. [With looks and skills like that, it’s hard to believe she isn’t well-known.] As it turned out, she was famous. So famous, in fact, that even Karnak, who generally paid little attention to others, had heard her name. “I’m Serati Allen, an adventurer affiliated with the guild,” the woman introduced herself. Karnak raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Ah, so you’re Lady Serati. I’ve heard much about you.” Even during his food tours around the city, Karnak couldn’t help but overhear street gossip about her. Serati was one of the most talked-about adventurers of the day. Born to commoners, she had chosen the path of a warrior—a notoriously difficult road for women. By the age of twenty, she had already made a name for herself, and more recently, she had awakened aura, the dream of all knights. She was, in every sense, a prodigy. Serati shook her head modestly. “I’m just a simple adventurer. I’m not even a knight, so I don’t deserve the title of Lady.” “But as an aura user, you could be knighted at any time,” Karnak pointed out. “I was just fortunate to awaken my aura a little earlier than most. I still have a long way to go.” She wasn’t merely being polite—her sincerity was evident. It was true that among aura users, she was still a beginner, having just reached the initial level of the Red Knight. She likely felt that she had much to learn. Moreover, by Karnak’s standards, she wasn’t particularly outstanding. Sure, she’s a prodigy at her age, but if you look across the continent, there are at least a few hundred with comparable talent. Still, in this region, she was a prominent figure, and Karnak felt it appropriate to acknowledge that. “It’s an honor for common men like us to meet such a celebrated aura user,” he said, exaggerating his enthusiasm. Serati looked taken aback. “Common men? Surely, you jest. Both of you are quite famous yourselves.” Karnak and Varos exchanged puzzled glances. [What did we do to become famous?] [No idea. All we’ve done is take out a few third-rate necromancers.] Riltaine chuckled lightly. “You’re remarkably humble. Did you really think you wouldn’t gain recognition after capturing so many necromancers in just two months?” “Well, I suppose...” Karnak trailed off awkwardly. Varos scratched his head. Now that I think about it, I guess it makes sense that we’ve become a hot topic. For them, dealing with necromancers had become second nature, but even a third-rate necromancer wielded power that far surpassed that of an ordinary first-rate mage. Take Luke, for instance—someone they had subdued with ease. If faced by ordinary knights or mages, it would have taken five or six of them to bring him down. Considering they had taken down so many in such a short time, it was no wonder Karnak and Varos had earned a reputation as the Church of Hatoba’s darkness hunters throughout the Derath City region. [Is it okay for us to get famous, though, young master? Didn’t we agree not to live like we used to?] In his previous life, Karnak had been far more than just "famous". There hadn’t been a soul in the world who didn’t know his name. He was the Monarch of Death, and humanity had united in fear and hatred to call for his destruction. [This isn’t infamy, though, so it should be fine, right?] Karnak replied. [Right? We’re not living like we used to, are we?] Only after confirming it once more did Varos let out a deep sigh. [Man, living like decent people sure is tough.] [You’re telling me. So many things to worry about.] Regardless, it was clear from Alius’s perspective that he had recruited some heavy hitters. A 6th-circle mage and an aura user were formidable individuals who would be well-regarded anywhere they went. Karnak asked with a serious expression, “So, this must be a pretty significant issue?” “Yes,” Alius nodded. “Please take a seat.”