لا يوجد حلم أو خيال في حياة وريث البارون.

منطقة ريفية على مشارفها حيث كان من المشكوك فيه ما إذا كانت المدينة المركزية على علم بوجودها.

وكانت طواحين الهواء تدور بقوة تحت سماء صافية خالية من أي سحابة، وكانت الأبقار والماعز ترعى في المراعي الواسعة.

دوي. دوي.

على الجانب الآخر من الغابة، كان رجال القرية يقطعون الأشجار. سُمعت ضحكة مكتومة. ربما ألقى روبرت الفكاهي نكتة أخرى.

كان كل يوم في هذه المنطقة الصغيرة عبارة عن حياة هادئة وبطيئة.

ومع ذلك كان سيمون راضيا تماما عن حياته هنا.

"سيمون، ما هي الفضيلة الأكثر أهمية التي ينبغي أن يتمتع بها السيد؟"

وبينما كان سيمون يفكر في شيء آخر للحظة، سأله والد سيمون، ريتشارد، الذي كان يسير جنبًا إلى جنب معه، سؤالًا.

في حيرة من السؤال المفاجئ، بدأ سيمون في التفكير بسرعة.

"مم... هل هذا تعاطف؟"

ضحك ريتشارد.

"ليست إجابة سيئة."

"فما هو الجواب الجيد؟"

رفع ريتشارد ذراعه ببطء ووضعه على صدره.

"إنه قلب دافئ."

رمش سيمون عند سماع الإجابة غير المتوقعة.

"…ماذا؟"

"كما أن الأوراق تغير ملابسها في كل فصل، فإن الفضائل المطلوبة للسيد تتغير أيضًا اعتمادًا على الموقف."

ابتسم ريتشارد، وهو يربت على رأس سيمون بلطف.

ينبغي أن يكون السيد قادرًا على أن يكون صديقًا، أو أبًا، أو حتى شريرًا. لكن السيد الذي يعامل الناس بقلبٍ رحيم يكتسب القدرة على إيصال مشاعره إليهم في أي موقف. هذه هي رابطة العلاقة بين السيد والخادم.

"سيد!"

أدار ريتشارد وسايمون رؤوسهما.

كان العديد من البالغين يحملون جذوعًا كبيرة على أكتافهم، وبالحكم على تعابير وجوههم، بدا الأمر ثقيلًا جدًا.

آسفة على إزعاجك أثناء سيرك! إن لم يكن لديكِ مانع، فسأعتمد عليكِ في ذلك من فضلكِ!

"بكل سرور، تشارلز."

نظر سيمون إلى والده بتعبير متوتر قليلاً على وجهه.

كان ريتشارد بولينتيا أحد سادة الريف العاديين، لكن كان هناك شيء مميز عنه.

"تراجع إلى الوراء، سيمون."

With closed eyes, Richard quickly and quietly recited a few spells and spread his palms. A pool of light floated up into the sky and transformed into a magic circle.

Simon looked around on guard. The magic circle started to activate and the trees and bushes around started shaking.

‘Here it comes!’

The ground trembled, turning into a black swamp, and the arms that rose from it trembled as if longing for the sun.

Their arms were made of pure white bones and were without a single piece of flesh.

Undead.

Monsters with unconditional aggression towards the living.

However, the complete opposite of that common sense was happening in this territory.

Rattle. Rattle.

The skeletons that stood up on the floor ran and started to help up the logs that people were carrying.

“Thank you, sir!”

Even the villagers—rather than being afraid of the skeletons—smiled broadly with expressions that said ‘That’s a relief!’

“Keep up the good work.”

That’s right.

Simon’s father was a necromancer.

Necromancers had ruled half of the world for a long time.

It started with the Talheren Empire.

When the Emperor of Talheren sent 50,000 troops to the Necromancer’s stronghold ‘Kizen’ to avoid their influence, only 10 necromancers were dispatched from Kizen.

Just 10.

And here, a historical event called the ‘Rose Retreat’ took place. The 50,000 troops headed for Kizen turned tail and returned to the Empire’s capital.

After everyone had become undead, the capital of Talheren was destroyed and the emperor surrendered to Kizen.

Afterwards, the Throne of Talheren was occupied by a rotten decayed corpse which ‘used to be an emperor’.

The Empire’s civil and military servants bowed their heads to the chunk of a corpse and tens of millions of imperial citizens were played around by a puppet show of a rotten corpse for 30 years.

A short history of the Necromancer’s power and terror.

Necromancers, who in time emerged as mainstream and gradually expanded their power. Now they exercised their influence over half of the continent, and the other half was occupied by the ‘Priests’—their only antipode.

Now, after the decades had passed since the 100-year war between those two factions who went face to face, the continent enjoyed a somewhat precarious peace.

‘…But I guess that has nothing to do with our territory.’

Simon felt like this war history belonged to a country from a far-away place.

The most significant recent events in ‘Les Hill’—the territory he’d rule one day—was the cow of Charles’ place that gave birth to two young and healthy calves, and Carlon getting three stitches on his forehead due to slipping while swabbing the floor.

Simon arrived at the Lord’s Castle with a silly smile.

Ah. The villagers insist on calling it the Lord’s Castle but in fact it was just an ordinary wooden house.

Compared to the poor lords with a small castle for their dignity, Richard, the Lord of Les Hill, was a simple man.

Creak.

“Mom, I’m home.”

As soon as he opened the door and entered the house, a comfortable and relaxing woody smell was given off. The firewood in the fireplace on the wall was burning with a crackling sound.

“Simon! You’re home?”

A gray-haired woman in an apron popped her head out of the kitchen. It was Simon’s mother, Anna Polentia.

“Yeah. I just got back from helping out with the logging of the village.”

“Have you eaten already?”

“…I ate lunch a while ago.”

“I baked some bread with the remaining dough. Spread some jelly on it and fill yourself up.”

She must’ve been possessed by a ghost who died because it couldn’t feed its son. His mother Anna was a person who satisfied herself by constantly feeding the people around her.

Simon pretended not to hear and pointed at a tray on the table.

“Mom, what’s this?”

“It’s water infused with the Lehark mushroom.”

Lehark mushrooms were poisonous mushrooms that were often found in the southern mountains, and if you put them in water, a green-ish oil started to float up.

If you ate it you’d suffer from stomach aches or diarrhea for a week, but it was a different story if it went through Anna’s hands.

She approached and placed her hand in the water infused with Lehark mushroom as she rolled up her sleeves.

Whoooosh!

“Woah!”

Simon, who was watching, exclaimed slightly.

As soon as a white light flashed from her hand, the poison was neutralized. The green substances floating around vanished into nothingness, leaving only the nutrients of the mushroom intact.

The white aura emanated from her body when she purified the poison. This power, often called ‘divinity’, was a symbol of a priest.

That’s right.

Simon was the son of a necromancer and a priest.

He didn’t really know what exactly happened between his parents.

He only knew that the two of them had a fairy-tale-like forbidden love and that he was born as a result.

“Simon!”

Anna’s voice was heard again when she returned to the kitchen.

“I baked an apple pie. Have some!”

“…I-I got it.”

The day passed like usual. Simon dragged his tired body and laid down on the bed.

Les Hill was silent today, and it’d be silent tomorrow.

Simon fell asleep while having no doubt that this peaceful daily life would forever be the same.

However—

Flutter!

The change had already begun.

A letter from outside the window stuck to Simon’s face.

“Kuhuff.”

Simon raised his arm and removed the letter as he opened his eyes.

“Hello?”

Simon batted his eyes at the unfamiliar voice.

Someone was sitting by the window where the moonlight shone.

A girl with beautiful silver hair down to her legs and a mysterious atmosphere. It was like looking at a forest fairy that just popped out of a fairy tale.

“The time has come.”

A voice sweet like honey woke him up.

Simon, who had been making a gawking face for a moment, quietly picked up his blanket and covered his head.

“Don’t pretend you didn’t see me!”

The girl came down from the window with an angry expression on her face.

“You saw me! Wake up right now!”

Simon reluctantly removed the blanket and sat up after her scream.

“…How did you get here? Are you lost? Do you know where your mom is?”

The girl let out a small sigh and smiled as if she had regained her composure. The moonlight shone through the window and her silver hair shone even more.

“I got the right person. I’m here to see you, Simon Polentia.”

Simon made a surprised look.

She… knew my name.

“…Me? Why?”

“Read that letter.”

It was a solemn voice for her age.

Simon carefully removed the seal and opened the envelope. A rustling sound and a stiff piece of paper folded in half appeared.

Bang!

“Simon!”

“Simon, what was that sound just now?”

The door opened and Richard and Anna came in. The two of them met eyes with the girl with silver hair.

“Ah…!”

“Nefthis!”

As if this weren’t their first-time meeting, the couple’s faces brightened up. The girl also smiled and waved her hand.

“It’s been a while, Richard, Anna!”

The three of them started talking with excitement. Simon, suddenly excluded, looked at them.

His father Richard had an excited face like a young boy, and his mother Anna was furious that she would have to prepare a meal right now.

“Simon, greet her politely,” said Richard.

“She’s Nefthis Archbold.”

Uh… Hold up.

I think I’ve heard that name before.

Nefthis Archbold.

No. Wait. Don’t tell me…

The Nefthis Archbold of Kizen!

The pinnacle of all necromancers that ruled Kizen.

The one who caused the ‘Talheren incident’ and turned an Emperor into a corpse puppet.

The Witch of Death who’d lived for 300 years.

That girl?

‘Then what’s this?’

Simon trembled and pulled out the letter.

“I’ll officially give you a proposal, Simon Polentia.”

The girl’s voice echoed in Simon’s ear like a lyric as he read the letter.

[Kizen Admission Notice – Simon Polentia]

“Come to Kizen.”