Chapter 256: The Graveyard Again
The next morning arrived with a pale grey light filtering through the castle windows. Darion had slept better than he expected, the weight of the previous day’s events settling into something manageable.
The archers were safe, the training was done, the mason was hired, and the castle renovations would begin soon. It was a good place to be.
He descended the stairs to find Garren and Seren already seated at the great hall table, plates of bread and cheese before them.
Maret was moving between the kitchen and the table, her steps quick and efficient. Aldra was nearby, dusting a shelf.
"Morning m’lord," Garren greeted.
"Morning," Darion replied, sliding into his usual seat.
Seren nodded, her mouth full of bread.
Darion reached for a piece of bread and tore off a chunk.
He ate slowly, his mind already turning to the day ahead. He had been thinking about his undead army, about the empty spaces in his forces that needed to be filled. There was room to grow, room to build, room to strengthen what he had already created.
After a few minutes of comfortable silence, Darion spoke. "I’m going to the graveyard today."
Garren looked up, his expression neutral. "The graveyard?"
"Yes. I need to make some undeads. There’s room for more, and I want to fill it before the renovations begin."
Seren set down her bread. "I’ll come with you."
Darion looked at her, surprised. "You want to come? To the graveyard?"
She shrugged. "Why not?"
He studied her for a moment. "Isn’t it... you know, unsettling? Graves and bodies and all that?"
She considered the question. "Staying too close to you recently has made me more intrigued rather than scared. I’ve seen you summon undeads, fight battles, raise creatures from the dead. A graveyard seems like the next logical step."
Darion smiled. "Fair enough."
—
They took two horses, sturdy animals that had been well-fed and well-rested. Darion wore a simple tunic with a hood to cover his face. He didn’t want anyone on the road to recognize him as the Baron of Percvale.
It was easier to move unnoticed when people didn’t know who you were.
Seren mounted her horse beside him, her bow slung across her back. She looked comfortable, natural, like she had been riding her whole life.
They set off, the road stretching out before them.
The morning air was cool and fresh, carrying the scent of dew and earth. The fields were quiet, the farmers just beginning their work.
As they rode, Seren turned to him. "You know, I’m sure you’re not a good fighter."
Darion raised an eyebrow. "What makes you say that?"
She smiled. "You use undeads too much. You rely on them for everything. I’ve never seen you fight without them."
Darion laughed. "That’s because I don’t need to. Why would I fight when my undeads can do it for me?"
Seren shook her head. "I’m just saying, if it came down to it, you probably couldn’t take a Yuimon on your own."
Darion scoffed. "I could definitely take a Yuimon on my own. I’m a superb, excellent fighter. I’ve fought Bogoarts, wolves, and even way worse. A Yuimon would be no problem."
Seren laughed. "Sure. Whatever you say."
"I’m serious!"
"Of course you are."
Darion smiled and shook his head. He didn’t need to prove himself. He knew what he could do, and that was enough.
Except he couldn’t actually do what he was boasting about.
Darion was no good fighter. He couldn’t take on creatures alone. The only real fight he had actually done was the Bogart, and even that had been a near thing.
He had survived through luck and desperation, not skill. But then again, he didn’t know. Maybe he would be a good fighter if he actually tried, like if he attempted to train and do fighting. He had never really given himself the chance to find out.
His undeads always did the work, and he had never felt the need to step into the front lines. But the thought lingered, a quiet curiosity. Maybe one day he would test himself.
They arrived at the graveyard after a short ride. The gate was old, its iron hinges rusted, its wooden posts weathered. Darion dismounted and tied his horse to a nearby post. Seren did the same.
He pushed open the gate and stepped inside. The graveyard stretched out before him, rows of tombstones marking the resting places of those who had come before. The grass was overgrown in places, the stones weathered by years of wind and rain.
Darion took a deep breath. This was familiar ground. He had been here many times, had unearthed countless bodies, had raised armies from the dead. It was work, plain and simple.
He summoned sixty undead knights. They materialized in flashes of green light, their bodies forming from nothing, their eyes glowing in the dim morning light. They stood still, waiting for his command.
"Dig," Darion said. "Find the freshest graves. Unearth the bodies."
The undead moved, their shovels rising and falling, their bodies working with mechanical precision. The ground began to churn, the soil flying through the air.
Darion also directed them to regions he thought the bravest were buried. He remembered the sections of the graveyard where the older, more distinguished graves were located.
Those were the ones that held the warriors, the ones who had died in battle, the ones who had earned their place in death. Those were the ones he wanted.
The ones who would make a difference on the battlefield, not weak ones like the ones he got earlier who would just crumble from a single flick.
Seren watched from a distance, her arms crossed, her expression curious. She had seen many strange things since meeting Darion, but this was still unsettling. The way the undead moved, the way they worked without rest, without pause. It was fascinating and disturbing in equal measure.
Darion walked among the graves, his eyes scanning the ground.
He watched as the undead unearthed bodies, their shovels revealing the pale shapes beneath the soil. He worked alongside them, crouching beside each new corpse, placing his hand on its chest.
"Arise," he said.
The green light spread. The body twitched. The eyes opened, glowing green.
He moved to the next.
"Arise."
And the next.
"Arise."
The work continued. The bodies rose.
Seren watched him work, her expression unreadable. She had seen him do this before, but it never got easier. The way the dead came back to life, the way they stood and waited, the way they served without question. It was strange, but it was also impressive.
Apart from Darion, she hadn’t seen a real Necromancer before, same with an undead
. So it just felt like a fairy tale seeing one. The stories she had heard as a child, the tales of dark magic and walking corpses, had always seemed like fiction.
But here it was, real and tangible. But it shouldn’t be too much. This was a world of magic, not a magicless sci-fi world.
Her mother was a witch, after all. She had grown up around strange and unusual things. This was just another layer of the same reality.
Darion worked until he had all he needed. He stood up, brushing the dirt from his knees. He looked at the graveyard, at the work that had been done, and smiled.
The undeads were pretty strong. There were very good ones in here, good knights almost to the standard of Ghet Ulg or Edric Vorne.
He could feel it through the binding, the weight of their power, the strength of their forms. These were not just ordinary soldiers. These were warriors who had earned their place in death.
There were too many for him to take a detailed look at them, so he just skimmed:
[Undead Knight – Rust Tier]
Former Rank: Percvale Infantry
Combat Instinct: Preserved (Fragmented)
Strength: 72
Endurance: 71
Loyalty: 70
Pain Response: None
Morale: Irrelevant
Special Trait: Tireless (Does not fatigue)
Weakness: Core Destruction (Skull / Spine)
---
[Undead Knight – Rust Tier]
Former Rank: Percvale Infantry
Combat Instinct: Preserved (Fragmented)
Strength: 75
Endurance: 74
Loyalty: 81
Pain Response: None
Morale: Irrelevant
Special Trait: Tireless (Does not fatigue)
Weakness: Core Destruction (Skull / Spine)
---
[Undead Knight – Bone Tier]
Former Rank: Percvale Infantry
Combat Instinct: Preserved (Fragmented)
Strength: 70
Endurance: 78
Loyalty: 79
Pain Response: None
Morale: Irrelevant
Special Trait: Tireless (Does not fatigue)
Weakness: Core Destruction (Skull / Spine)
---
[Undead Knight – Bone Tier]
Former Rank: Percvale Infantry
Combat Instinct: Preserved (Fragmented)
Strength: 72
Endurance: 82
Loyalty: 80
Pain Response: None
Morale: Irrelevant
Special Trait: Tireless (Does not fatigue)
Weakness: Core Destruction (Skull / Spine)
---
[Undead Knight – Rust Tier]
Former Rank: Percvale Infantry
Combat Instinct: Preserved (Fragmented)
Strength: 74
Endurance: 73
Loyalty: 76
Pain Response: None
Morale: Irrelevant
Special Trait: Tireless (Does not fatigue)
Weakness: Core Destruction (Skull / Spine)
.....
And blah blah.
He smiled. This was a good haul. Good unearthing and reviving session. Strong knights, solid stats, high loyalty. They would serve him well.