The Necromancer's Servant

"My home...!"

Esis looked at the nearly ruined mansion, his face contorted into a grimace, resembling a tortured goblin. His expression was filled with grief, almost on the verge of tears. Although this mansion was merely one of the many hideouts of the Shamusi Thieves' Guild, it had been painstakingly built up over the years. Seeing it destroyed in an instant was heartbreaking. Moreover, being so close to the royal city of Alrasia, making such a commotion in broad daylight meant that a large contingent of soldiers would soon arrive.

As expected, the faint sound of galloping hooves thundered in the distance.

The man with the fist-blade crouched down, pressing his ear to the ground to listen carefully. After a moment, he stood up and said to Hilika, "One hundred and twenty heavy cavalry, thirty light cavalry."

"Kingdom's knights, probably that bastard Oren's lot," Hilika snorted, spitting on the ground.

Esis leaned forward and peeked outside the courtyard of the mansion. On the streets beyond, quite a few bystanders had already gathered, staring curiously at the chaos. Turning back to Hilika, he said, "Looks like this place is a lost cause. Everyone, head for the tunnels!"

The sound of hooves grew louder, rumbling like thunder and causing the ground to tremble slightly.

"Wait, dig that bitch's corpse out first and strip her armor," Hilika ordered, his eyes lighting up as he stepped toward the rubble. But the man with the fist-blade moved faster, digging through the debris and pulling out the female knight.

Despite her pale, bloodied appearance, it was clear to everyone that she was still alive, though unconscious.

"She's not dead?" Hilika let out a sinister chuckle, his eyes gleaming even brighter, like two little lanterns. But no lantern could emit such a vulgar, feral glow. "Looks like that armor really is impressive. And this woman's body—tough enough, heh heh..."

The man slung the female knight over his shoulder and walked toward the tunnel entrance, his voice cold and indifferent. "That's because I held back. I've still got use for her."

Hilika froze for a moment, then the light in his eyes flared tenfold.

The man's tone was calm and matter-of-fact, as if the woman was already his personal possession, as if he was the real boss here.

Hilika hadn't heard that kind of tone in years—longer even than the time since the knight had spoken to him that way.

He stared at the man's retreating back, and the faint glow of fighting spirit reignited around the massive greatsword in his hand. Hilika could almost feel the visceral sensation of smashing both the man and the woman into a bloody pulp with one swing.

The man suddenly whipped around as if stabbed, his gaze sharp and eerie, carrying the same menacing aura as the strange glow of the blade in Hilika's hand. He spoke slowly, his tone cold: "What do you intend to do?"

The sound of the armored knights' galloping had already reached the mansion's gates, and the onlookers outside quickly scattered. From inside the tunnel, Esis stuck his head out and shouted, "Boss, hurry up and go!"

"Hahaha..." Hilika's eyes swept over the man several times like a blade, eventually stopping at his weapon. Suddenly, he burst into loud laughter, his expression unusually cheerful as if he'd stumbled upon an unimaginable treasure. "I don't intend to do anything. Haha... Hahaha!"

The man frowned in confusion, and even Esis seemed stunned. By this time, the gold-clad knights of the royal cavalry had appeared at the gates, charging straight into the mansion without hesitation. Esis quickly ducked back into the tunnel, and the man, ignoring Hilika, carried the female knight on his shoulder and entered the tunnel as well.

Hilika licked his lips as he stared at the man's disappearing figure, his bright red tongue almost reaching his nose.

Among the royal knights, a few light cavalrymen leapt their mounts into the ruins of the mansion, maneuvering over the rubble with astounding agility. Their horsemanship was so extraordinary it seemed as if their horses were not mere animals but deer bounding gracefully through a forest.

Watching the approaching knights, Hilika spat onto the ground. The saliva was thick and white, like the froth on the lips of someone near death. Turning back, he entered the tunnel, his massive greatsword striking the tunnel walls heavily.

The tunnel entrance collapsed with a loud crash, sealing off the few leading heavy knights outside. Inside the tunnel, the sound of the greatsword smashing against the rock walls echoed continuously, followed by the rumbling of more collapses. Hilika destroyed the entire passage as he walked through it.

The knights outside had no choice but to retreat on horseback. The heavy cavalry regrouped in the courtyard, where a dozen knights dismounted and began thoroughly searching the ruins.

From the neatly organized ranks of knights, one man rode forward, dismounted, and entered the battered mansion. He stood out from the others, dressed in light leather armor with a longsword slung diagonally at his waist. His demeanor lacked the fierce, commanding spirit of his companions; instead, he looked pale and sickly, occasionally coughing.

He examined the remnants of the battle, frowning deeply at the destruction that had nearly torn the mansion apart.

After the search concluded, a knight approached him, saluted, and reported, "General Oren, there's no sign of the Shamusi Thieves' Guild members. They seem to have escaped through the tunnels, which have collapsed and are currently inaccessible. However, we haven't found Lady Talice either. She was the one who called us here to capture these bandits, just like the previous times."

"General, sir!" A light cavalry captain who had been among the first to charge forward stepped forward hesitantly. "I think I might have seen... seen..."

General Oren glanced at the strange bloodstains on the ground and the mummified corpses scattered nearby. His frown deepened, and he impatiently asked, "Seen what?"

"I... I think I saw Lady Talice being carried off by one of the bandits, covered in blood. But... it only looked that way. Perhaps I was mistaken..." The captain's voice faltered, his tone uncertain. He had witnessed holy knights effortlessly obliterate other bandit groups with their divine swordsmanship, magic, and radiant armor. Their prowess, like celestial beings descending to earth, had left an indelible impression on him. Based on logic, such an event seemed impossible. The elite knights of Celeste being captured by mere thieves? Unthinkable.

Oren appeared not to register the ambiguous report. His attention was focused on a pile of dirt nearby. He crouched down and poked at it with his fingers before standing upright again. Fixing his gaze on the captain, he asked, "What did you say? I didn't hear clearly."

"I... I thought I saw Lady Talice being carried off, but... I think I must have been mistaken," the captain stammered, even less confident now.

"Nonsense," General Oren snorted dismissively. "How could a holy knight be defeated by mere thieves? Do you think the elite warriors trained in the Glory Citadel are such pushovers?"

"Y-yes, sir, of course," the captain stammered, nodding repeatedly. "I must have been mistaken. Absolutely mistaken."

"Lady Talice isn't here. She must've gone after the remnants of the Shamusi Thieves' Guild," Oren declared as he turned to leave, mounting his horse. He coughed lightly and said casually, "Let's go back and await her triumphant return."

The captain quickly asked, "Shouldn't we assist her pursuit? If we immediately deploy troops to search and secure a five-mile radius, the thieves won't escape."

Oren glared at him. "Don't meddle unnecessarily. You should know Lady Talice's temperament. If she chose to investigate and act alone, it means she has full confidence in her ability. To doubt a holy knight's judgment and interfere is to insult her honor."

"Y-yes, of course," the captain agreed hastily, his thoughts aligning with the general's logic.

"Then let's not interfere further. Move out." Oren coughed again, sighing with a hint of resignation on his sallow face. "A renowned holy knight surely won't disappoint us."

At dusk, a while after the escape, Hilika, Esis, and a few other skilled members of the group emerged from the sewer, about three miles away from the mansion.

This was the farthest and safest exit. To avoid the Kingdom Knights' pursuit, Hilika had instructed other thieves to take the relatively more dangerous exits. However, it now seemed like there was no large-scale military mobilization to chase them down.

The druid had reverted to human form, and everyone had changed into ordinary-looking clothes. Even Hilika wore an outfit that helped conceal his intimidating aura. One had to admit that the scale of the Shamus Thieves' Guild wasn't purely a matter of luck. Their expansive underground base not only had multiple escape routes but also plenty of supplies prepared specifically for such situations. The unconscious female knight had been stuffed into a large sack, carried on the shoulder of the silent man.

After exiting the sewer, the group didn't linger. Under Hilika's lead, they set off toward another hideout dozens of miles away, where the rest of the thieves were instructed to regroup.

Hilika's original plan was to travel through the night and reach the hideout by morning. However, by late night, both Esis and the old man could no longer continue. Esis, in particular, was so exhausted that even with Hilika half-dragging him, he began foaming at the mouth. Forced to stop, the group decided to rest in the woods for the night. The intense battle earlier had drained everyone, and the idea of resting brought visible relief to some.

Not everyone, however, was exhausted. Hilika, of course, showed no signs of fatigue. The man carrying the female knight also seemed completely unfazed, despite having walked so far with her on his shoulder. The rest of the group looked at him as though he were some kind of monster.

No one could forget that during the battle, he had been the one to contribute the most. It was practically his efforts alone that had defeated the holy knight. His prowess left the others both in awe and with a sense of unease.

As a campfire crackled to life and the group ate some dry rations, the atmosphere lightened slightly. They finally had a moment to exchange names.

After such a harrowing ordeal, much of the mutual wariness and arrogant pride among these "experts" had faded. The masked woman introduced herself as Jessica, the man wielding the fist-blade as Hilton, the young white mage as Yabin, and the druid as Anderson. The old man, who had been burned to a hairless wreck by the female knight's magic, collapsed into a deep sleep as soon as they stopped and didn't have a chance to share his name. The man carrying the female knight, however, remained silent throughout. His air of mystery seemed to grow, and no one dared to ask him directly.

"Damn, damn, damn…" Hilton cursed under his breath as he stitched the deep wound on his face with needle and thread. For someone still brimming with energy, he hadn't stopped grumbling the entire journey. Although the young mage Yabin had used white magic to treat his injury, it wasn't something that could heal immediately. The combination of sweat, dust, and grime seeping into the wound had caused him excruciating pain, forcing him to grit his teeth. Now that they were resting, he finally had time to stitch the gash shut.

After finishing his self-surgery and receiving another round of healing from Yabin, Hilton let out a long breath. He glared at the sack containing the female knight and snarled, "That bitch almost split my head open." He then turned to the man sitting beside the sack and said, "Hey, brother, dump her out. I'm going to teach her a lesson right now."

The man didn't move. Instead, he looked at Hilton with an indifferent gaze and asked, "Teach her what?"

"Teach her by having my way with her. Damn, I'm feeling full of energy right now." Hilton lightly touched the wound on his face and licked his lips, as if the pain was fueling his lust.

The man's cold eyes remained fixed on Hilton for a moment before he said, "Here?"

"Why not here? It doesn't matter where—it's going to happen anyway." Hilton spoke with an air of entitlement, which wasn't unusual for someone like him who lived by the sword and had little regard for others. He turned to Jessica, the masked woman, and said, "If you don't want to watch, feel free to step away."

"No, I think I'll watch closely," Jessica replied, her hand resting on her ribs, which had just been healed with magic. Her expression was strange, and she even licked her lips. "Maybe I'll even join in."

"Oh. Well, alright then!" Hilton seemed pleasantly surprised. But as he turned his head back, the man's icy stare immediately doused much of his enthusiasm.

Hilton glanced at Hilika, expecting some encouragement. However, Hilika—who should have been the most eager participant—remained expressionless, watching the scene unfold with indifference. This irritated Hilton slightly, but after some thought, he suddenly understood.

"Of course, I wouldn't be the first. Damn." He flashed the man a knowing smile, though the motion pulled at his wound, making him wince. "She's your catch. And you're clearly the strongest here, so naturally, you should go first." He gestured magnanimously. "Please, go ahead. If you don't want us to watch, we can step away." After a brief pause, likely recalling the man's brutal combat prowess and aura, Hilton added, "Just don't kill her, alright?"