The Necro-Industrial Revolution

Jack walked out through the heavy gates of the village, stepping into the biting cold of the valley. Following closely behind him were his two armored mages, Elias and Sylvia, moving in perfect unison.

Jack hadn’t even taken ten steps up the snow-covered path when a loud, echoing sound shattered the quiet of the afternoon.

Clang! Clang! Clang!

It was the heavy alarm bell from the village watchtowers. A warning that something had appeared in the valley. But it wasn’t the absolute peak of winter yet, which meant the rifts spawning the beasts shouldn’t have opened.

Jack stopped and looked back toward the guards stationed high atop the palisade walls.

“What happened? Did you see something?” Jack called out. He squinted toward the southern pass, but the rapidly increasing snowfall created a dense, white haze that obscured his vision completely.

“My Lord, it’s faint, but I can see four figures coming this way!” one of the guards shouted down, squeezing his eyes shut against the stinging snowflakes, trying to track the distant silhouettes.

Did they finally arrive? Jack chuckled inwardly. He already knew exactly who these people were. These had to be the mages sent by the Holy Church to act as ‘aid’ during the upcoming beast tide.

Jack stood steadily where he was, resting both hands on the brass head of his cane. He stared calmly into the whiteout of the southern pass, his back perfectly straight, while his two imposing retainers stood like statues behind him.

Rather than blindly waiting in the snow, Jack’s vision shifted.

Deep within the southern woods, the skeletal figure of a giant Alpha Winter Wolf slowly emerged from a snowdrift. This was Grim. The undead beast started walking stealthily through the frosted trees, moving toward the southern pass with unnatural silence.

After about ten seconds of tracking through the brush, four human figures stepped into the wolf’s line of sight.

Looking through Grim’s empty eye sockets, Jack finally caught a glimpse of the travelers. There were three men and one woman. However, because thick shards of ice and snow had gathered inside Grim’s bony sockets, Jack’s vision was slightly blurred. He couldn’t discern their exact facial features or finer details.

But it wasn’t something to worry about; the four Church mages were moving quickly and would soon step into Jack’s actual line of sight on the main road.

Jack had been using Grim as a permanent scout in the southern forest these days, ordering the skeletal wolf to keep a constant lookout for approaching bandits, since they had suffered a deadly raid the previous year.

Because the heavy snow blocked out most of the sunlight, casting the forest in perpetual twilight, Grim had natural cover. Even if a traveler managed to spot the wolf in the distance, Jack could instantly sever the magical connection, causing Grim to collapse into a harmless, inanimate pile of weathered bones in the snow—just the long-dead remains of a wild beast.

Furthermore, Jack’s ability to multitask had skyrocketed. After successfully breaking through to Layer 2 of the Iron Core, his raw control over his mental threads had grown significantly. Spending hours micromanaging tens of separate skeletons simultaneously during the steel production had sharpened his focus to a razor’s edge. Now, maintaining a passive link with Grim while standing awake in his own body barely required any conscious thought at all.

Switching his focus back to his physical eyes, Jack watched the four figures finally break through the curtain of falling snow.

The woman walking at the front of the group held a small, concentrated fireball in the palm of her hand. The radiant heat effortlessly melted the falling snow around them, keeping their path clear and their bodies warm. Now that Jack could see them clearly, he quickly analyzed his new guests.

All four of them seemed to be in their early twenties. They carried themselves with the distinct, slightly arrogant posture of newly awakened mages. Judging by their youth and their assignment to a remote, impoverished northern fief, Jack deduced they were likely low-class mages—probably at the peak of the Grey Core, or perhaps the first stage of the Iron Core.

It made sense. Since there was almost zero chance of a highly mutated, powerful magical beast spawning from the rifts in the region, the Church wouldn’t waste their elite Silver Core veterans here. Low-class mages were more than sufficient for border duty.

One might argue that if Jack himself was currently an Iron Core mage at Layer 2, and he seemed powerful enough to take care of the beast tide on his own.

The answer lay in the nature of Jack’s magic. Jack was a Necromancer—One of the unnatural, uncommon magic types. His specific magic easily put his raw combat potential vastly above a normal elemental mage of the same core level. However, this big power buff came with strict conditions: a uncommon magic user needed needed to fulfill some specific conditions. For a normal uncommon magic user mage, these conditions may seem impossible sometime. But for Jack, who already possessed over a hundred undead slumbering in his crypts, the condition was completely irrelevant. He was a one-man army, at least in his fief.

Jack analyzed their composition. The woman leading them had bronze hair, a tall stature, and was clearly a fire mage. Behind her walked two men of a slim build with dark black hair, standing at roughly the same height. The final man had bronze hair similar to the woman’s, but he was a few inches taller and possessed a much broader, muscular physique than his companions.

NovelPhoenix is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.

Though Jack couldn’t discern the specific magical affinities of the three men just by looking at them, he didn’t care. They weren’t a threat to him.

The figures drew closer and closer. Jack stood perfectly still, letting them approach.

Stopping a few yards away, the four mages looked at Jack with a discerning, slightly skeptical gaze, as if trying to confirm whether the young, sharply dressed man standing in the snow was actually the Lord of the fief.

But as their eyes shifted to the two massive, heavily armored figures standing silently behind Jack, their skepticism vanished, replaced by a sudden wave of caution.

“We are mages from the Holy Church,” the muscular man spoke up, his voice deep and formal. “We have been dispatched to this valley to serve as aid during the upcoming winter beast tides.”

“Welcome, mages of the Church, to my valley—the Frost Grip fief,” Jack replied smoothly, offering a polite smile. “I am John Frost Grip, though please, just call me Jack. I am the current Lord of this fief.”

The mages nodded, but as they looked past Jack, their professional composure shattered.

“What by the Light…?” one of the slim, black-haired men muttered, his eyes wide in astonishment as he stared at the village defenses. “I have never seen this kind of heavy fortification in any minor lord’s territory in this entire region. And what is that massive trench for?”

Although he couldn’t see the bustling interior of the village because the newly constructed steel-bound palisade walls were significantly taller than last year, the scale of the outer defenses—the walls, the watchtowers, and the lethal spike pit—was genuinely shocking for a supposedly small fief.

“The snow is picking up, and the wind is bitter,” Jack said, ignoring the mage’s bewildered questions. “Let us head up to my castle. We can have our conversations in the warmth of the Great Hall.”

The muscular man pulled his cloak tighter and nodded. “As you suggest, Lord Jack. Lead the way.”

Jack turned toward the watchtowers. “Close the gates! We will be heading to the castle!” he shouted to the guards above.

As Jack turned to walk up the hill, the other slim mage leaned over and whispered to his companion. ‘Why is he shouting to the peasants on the wall? Aren’t those two hulking knights standing right behind him supposed to be his personal guards? Why didn’t they just order to close the gates?’

Jack heard the whisper, but didn’t react.

The group slowly ascended the winding, snow-covered path toward the castle courtyard. As they reached the upper gates, they passed a newly constructed, insulated wooden toll cabin.

Jack had recently hired a single servant whose sole job was to sit in this warm cabin, open the courtyard gates, and report if any unknown visitors arrived. From a purely tactical standpoint, it was somewhat unnecessary. But as Jack’s reputation and wealth grew, projecting the image of a proper, heavily staffed noble estate was vital.

While it consumed a bit of his already strained manpower, winter had a way of freeing up hands. With the heavy snows halting agriculture and outdoor construction, most people in the valley didn’t have much to do anyway. The labor exchange with Alaric’s fief had also slowed down, as the daily commute was too dangerous in the blizzards.

To maintain good relations, Jack had sent a massive shipment of coal to Alaric. He didn’t give it to Alaric for free—that would be bad business—but he sold it to the Lord at a discounted rate compared to the merchant caravans. Alaric happily paid for it out of his own treasury, and Jack still made a tidy profit, significantly higher than what the western guild paid for bulk orders. Also he sent a huge quantity to the villagers as well, as a form of another investment in the fief.

As the servant hastily opened the courtyard gates, the mages stepped inside. Instantly, they froze in their tracks.

Their eyes fell upon the massive glass greenhouse sitting in the courtyard. It was snowing heavily, the temperature was also freezing, yet inside that strange, transparent building, the plants were vibrant, green, and incredibly healthy.

The mages exchanged looks of bewilderment.

“That is a greenhouse,” Jack explained casually, noticing their stunned reactions. “It is one of my personal inventions. The glass traps the sunlight, and a localized heating system allows us to grow fresh vegetables even in the absolute dead of winter.”

“It’s astounding!” the bronze-haired woman gasped, stepping closer to admire the glass. “What do you mean by ‘one of your’ inventions? Do you possess more marvels like this?”

“Oh, yes. I have a couple of them operating, and I am currently drafting blueprints for a few more,” Jack replied smoothly, omitting the fact that the ‘heating system’ was actually a set of expensive magical runes.

By now, they had reached the main doors of the castle keep.

The heavy doors creaked open, allowing the group to step out of the howling wind and into the wonderfully warm environment of the Great Hall.

“My Lord,” the maid who had opened the door greeted, bowing deeply. Her eyes widened slightly as she noticed the four strangers, and she immediately shot off down the hallway to fetch Karen.

Jack offered a slight nod. “These are the mages from the Church. They have come to aid us against the beast tide.”

The remaining maid bowed respectfully to the mages. A moment later, hurried footsteps echoed from the hall, and Karen arrived, wiping her hands on her apron.

“Karen,” Jack addressed his head maid, gesturing to the travelers. “These are the mages from the Church. They have traveled through deep winter to reach us. Please prepare warm rooms for them to rest in. Provide them with spare, dry clothes, and draw warm water if they wish to bathe.”

Providing hot water in winter was a very difficult, especially with the nearby river freezing over. However, water wasn’t a problem for the Frost Grip castle. Jack’s ancestors had installed multiple deep-well handpumps within the castle walls.

During the deep freezes, the iron mechanisms often jammed with ice. To get them working again, the servants had to pour kettles of boiling water down the top of the pipe while violently cranking the iron handle in a repetitive rhythm to break the frost seal. It was tedious work, but it guaranteed a constant supply of fresh water.

Jack turned back to the four mages, who were awkwardly brushing the melting snow from their cloaks.

“You all must be exhausted from your journey,” Jack said politely. “Please, take a hot bath and get some rest. We will have a proper conversation over lunch in a couple of hours. If you need anything at all, just ask Karen.”

He paused. “And if you wish to take a tour of the village later, please do not hesitate to follow one of my retainer mages. They will gladly guide you through the valley, though you will have to forgive their silence. They cannot speak.”

The muscular man’s eyes widened slightly, and the slim mage behind him whispered again. ‘He even has his own mages…’

Jack knew well that hiding the fact that Elias and Sylvia were mages would be impossible with Church officials living in his castle. Rather than acting suspicious and trying to hide them, taking the initiative and casually exposing their presence established dominance and dispelled immediate suspicion.

“Now, if you would excuse me,” Jack bowed slightly, turned on his heel, and walked toward his private meeting room, leaving the stunned Church mages in Karen’s capable hands.