The Necromancer's Servant

Sandru pushed aside the female corpse and pulled out a large cloth from underneath, shaking off the dust and tossing it to Asa, saying, "This piece of clothing is worth at least six more months of your labor."

Asa took it and saw that it was a very old cloak. "Six months? You should really consider a career as a bandit. It's a shame to the entire bandit community if you didn't," Asa shook his head. He looked at the thick, foul-smelling, heavy cloth that was covered in dust, with dried blood and other bodily fluids that had solidified and fused into the fabric over an unknown period.

Sandru's eyes widened, "This is a treasure I collected in my youth; it has great sentimental value."

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door of the large room.

Three rhythmic knocks showed the knocker's good upbringing and demeanor. The tone was neither too heavy nor too light, just enough for those inside to hear without disturbing them at all. Even the most sensitive or ill-tempered host would not feel annoyed.

Anyone who could come here would certainly know what this place was. With a room full of corpses, an old man fiddling with them, and a disabled man helping him, who would knock so politely and gracefully as if visiting an elegant recluse?

Sandru wanted to see who this polite person was and went to open the door. Asa hurriedly put on his mask.

With the door open, a dignified middle-aged gentleman appeared outside.

With a slightly plump figure typical of a well-off middle-aged man, he had a beautifully ornate sword at his waist, which looked more like a decoration than a weapon. He wore a perfect suit, a top hat, and had a neatly trimmed beard. His squinty eyes held a warm, courteous smile. This was indeed a gentleman who would knock politely at any door.

The gentleman bowed slightly and gracefully addressed Sandru, "May I ask if you are the distinguished Mr. Sandru?"

"Yes. That's me." Sandru quickly responded, as if fearing someone might suddenly appear to dispute his title.

"I am Duke Murak," this friendly, plump gentleman introduced himself. "Could you please let me in? I am looking for someone."

"Of course, please come in." Sandru acted like a hospitable host, warmly and generously gesturing for the duke to enter the large room, then pointed to the corpses and organs scattered throughout. "There are many people here; I wonder which one you are looking for, Your Grace?"

"I'm looking for him." The duke's cheerful eyes had been fixated on Asa, who was lying under the corpse cloth since he entered. He slowly walked toward Asa with his hands clasped behind his back.

Asa took a step back.

He didn't know why he stepped back. The courteous and charming gentleman was indeed very attractive, and he felt an impulse to go up and ask for an explanation upon hearing the duke's title. But for some reason, as soon as he saw the duke approaching him, he instinctively stepped back.

However, he only retreated a single step and did not move again. The duke slowly approached him. Looking at the duke, who was half a head shorter than him, Asa realized he wasn't pretending to be hunched or lame.

He should have been pretending; after two months, he had developed a habit of automatically hunching and limping whenever he was in front of others. However, the moment his gaze met the duke's, all his attention was drawn there, and he completely forgot to maintain his posture.

No, Asa immediately sensed that it wasn't that he forgot to keep his body posture; rather, his body unconsciously transformed into a state of complete vigilance. He felt like a beast that had caught the scent of danger, every muscle in his body heightened to a state of ready-to-strike sensitivity.

His mind entered the expansive state he had practiced during meditation in the past two months. Every minute twitch of his muscles was under his control, and he could feel every flow of air around him. He could even sense the magical energy and spirit within him continuously condensing and flowing, ready to burst forth at any moment.

He had only taken a single step back, not because he felt it was unnecessary to retreat, but because he could no longer move.

Any further retreat would mean crossing a boundary—the boundary of a predator pursuing its prey.

If he moved even slightly, this seemingly amiable duke would strike him down with the swiftness of a leopard and the ferocity of a lion.

The duke's gaze felt like it pierced through Asa's eyes, reaching every detail of his being, taking in everything about him without leaving anything unseen.

The duke's lips curled into a smile, a mix of approval, regret, and mockery. He calmly said, "This young man saved my youngest daughter from some bad people last night. I know he also saved my eldest daughter two months ago, and I truly wish to thank him. But..." The duke's right hand emerged from behind his back, seemingly a casual gesture, resting on his belt beside the ornate yet somewhat vulgar sword.

Asa couldn't hear what the duke was saying at all. His entire focus was on the duke's right hand and the sword next to it.

Without any basis, he knew that even if the beautiful sword was merely a wooden stick, the moment that hand drew it out, it could cleave him in two like a soft carrot. Asa gathered all his strength and magical energy, mixing them with his spirit and fighting will into a point that was about to explode. Even if there was a one-in-ten-thousand chance, he had to unleash all his power before his head was severed.

He felt a delusion as if he was being hunted in the Lizard Marsh, and now that hunt had reached its end, leaving him with no escape. The beast-like fighting spirit and madness completely revived within him.

Asa remained still; his emotions were surprisingly calm, fully immersed in the expansive state of meditation. But he could feel the wolf deep in his soul revealing its sharp fangs, howling wildly.

"Are you going to kill me? Come on, try and see how easy I am to kill."

The duke's smile widened, deepening the sense of mockery in his approval. That pale, neatly trimmed hand had already slid onto the sword hilt.

"Oh? A hero saving a damsel, how heroic," Sandru suddenly chimed in with a strange tone from the side. Nobody knew when he had stood behind the duke, fiddling with a few dead people's teeth in his hand. This was his old habit; he always needed to hold a few dead things to play with when he had nothing to do.

Asa saw the duke's hand suddenly tense, veins bulging as his expression became grotesque. But he could sense that it wasn't murderous intent; it was tension. The duke's breathing rhythm suddenly became chaotic, and the intense gaze he had fixed on Asa became unfocused, the urgency dissipating along with it. Asa even noticed a hint of fear in the duke's eyes, like a hunter fully prepared to ambush a fierce beast suddenly finding a block of ice shoved into his pants.

The teeth rattled in Sandru's hand, which looked very old, covered in wrinkles and pale, so pale that not a single vein or hair could be seen. It was a white so ghastly it seemed even paler than a corpse. The sound of the teeth clashing in his hand had a foreboding quality.

The duke's expression did not change in the slightest. But it was no longer a smile; it wasn't even an expression—it was just the frozen visage of the previous moment. The muscles in his face remained the same, but all emotion had vanished, resembling a mechanical demonstration of what a 'smiling face' looked like.

The focus of the duke's gaze remained fixed on Asa's face. However, Asa felt he wasn't looking at him but rather at Sandru, who stood behind him and was completely out of sight. The duke was staring intently, just as Asa had looked at him moments ago.

Now, not only could Asa take a step back, but even if he wanted to dance, the duke would not react at all. Asa felt as if he had suddenly become a spectator.

Asa didn't move, nor did the duke. Sandru, aside from fiddling with the teeth, also remained like a stone statue. The entire hall seemed to freeze, even time itself could not continue to flow, with only the sound of teeth clashing, announcing that they were already dead.

It felt like an entire century passed before the duke sighed deeply, regaining his vitality, a gentle smile resurfacing on his face.

The clattering sound ceased, and Sandru stopped playing with the teeth, wobbling as he walked in front of the duke.

The duke's gaze returned to Asa's face, now devoid of any unsettling feelings. He asked, "Who is this young man to you, sir?"

"He's my assistant," Sandru tossed the teeth onto the stone table.

"Just an assistant?" The duke's brows furrowed slightly, yet his smile remained unchanged. "However... I suspect your assistant is closely related to a very important matter, and I would like to take him with me…"

"No way." Sandru firmly refused. "If he leaves, who will help me? Those corpses are very heavy!"

The duke sighed, revealing a smile tinged with regret. "Then I'm sorry to have disturbed you." He bowed slightly to Sandru and turned to leave the large room, not forgetting to close the door behind him.

Asa's gaze swept over the table and noticed that the dead teeth Sandru had just placed down were undergoing a strange transformation. This was certainly not a change that teeth should undergo. Teeth were neither ice nor iron, nor were they mud; they wouldn't soften or melt. Yet these small items, which had just been rattling, were slowly becoming softer, like a piece of malt candy chewed in the mouth, becoming deformed under their own weight, gradually melting into a strange liquid. Then this liquid rapidly vanished, leaving behind several fist-sized holes corroded into the granite tabletop.

Asa looked at the old man again, as if he were a chicken that had just eaten a person, then nodded and said, "Thank you for saving me."

"Of course I had to save you." Sandru seemed surprised that Asa would ask such a self-evident question. "You still owe me four years of work."

As Duke Murak stepped out of the large room, he removed his top hat and took out a handkerchief to wipe the sweat from his forehead. He hurried back to the duke's residence.

Claudius was waiting for him in the study. He had learned from Claris where the duke had gone and could roughly guess what had happened.

Before he could ask, the duke said to him, "Go back to the Knights Templar and bring your whole small team. Make sure you're fully equipped."

"Huh?" Claudius understood but was confused. The Knights Templar was the elite among the elite of the entire imperial army. His small team of over forty people had once wiped out nearly a thousand members of a heretical organization planning to seize a city.

The duke didn't explain but issued further orders: "Remember, keep it low-key. And move quickly."

Back in the large room, Asa put on the cloak that Sandru had just handed him and reverted to his hunchbacked, limping state. He needed to slip out of the city quickly and leave the capital.

The duke had mentioned that he knew Asa was the one who saved his daughter, so the reason for the duke wanting to kill him could not possibly be a misunderstanding.

Asa didn't know the exact reason, but he understood that since a duke wanted to kill him by any means necessary, his only option was to flee desperately. Moreover, he did not want to drag anyone down with him. He could see that Sandru was quite formidable, but he also knew that no matter how strong someone was, there were limits. The duke could mobilize hundreds of royal guards to capture him here; if hundreds weren't enough, then thousands could be summoned, even the Knights Templar.

He bowed to Sandru, saying, "Thank you for letting me hide here these past two months."

Sandru stared at him and said, "You're not thinking of running away, are you? You still owe me four years of work."

Asa shrugged helplessly and said, "Once I make some money, I'll be sure to thank you properly. But if I stay here, I'll only bring you trouble."

Sandru shook his head, saying, "If you run, trouble will always stay with you, and that will bring troubles for me too. Don't be afraid of troubles; after you resolve them, there's no trouble left."

Asa gave a bitter smile and walked toward the door. If he didn't run, he would no longer have the chance to have trouble later. Just as he was about to open the door, he suddenly heard the sound of hooves growing closer.

Asa's expression changed, and he turned to pounce toward the window, but Sandru raised his hand and waved, saying, "Don't panic, the one who resolves trouble is coming."