This Necromancer Raised Civilization Instead Of The Dead

A Sea Somewhere

It was a peaceful, beautiful day out at sea. The sun was bright. The wind moved gently across the water. Seagulls circled overhead, their cries echoing across the open sky.

A perfect day.

Which made the sight of a large, 17th-century three-masted cargo ship cutting steadily through the waves look almost picturesque.

Almost. Because ahead of that ship was something that did not belong in any peaceful scenery. A massive magical barrier, blood-red in color.

Stretching from the ground all the way into the clouds, like a wall splitting the world in half. Occasional bursts of static energy crackled across its surface, flickering like lightning trapped in place.

On one side, clear blue sky. On the other, something that looked far closer to hell.

And the ship was heading straight toward it.

---

As the vessel approached the shoreline, activity broke out across the deck. Sailors moved quickly, folding sails and dropping anchor. The heavy chains rattled as the ship came to a slow stop, settling roughly five hundred meters from the beach.

Then, movement from below deck. Rows of people were brought up, chained one to another. Prisoners.

They shuffled forward under the watch of armed sailors, spear tips pointed firmly at their backs, ensuring no one got any ideas.

Among them—was Theo.

“Ooh… sunlight,” he muttered, tilting his head slightly upward.

He let the warmth settle on his skin, eyes half-lidded in quiet appreciation. He had missed this. Not metaphorically, but literally. His body needed it.

After nearly ten weeks locked below deck, the lack of sunlight had done its work. The signs were obvious. Fatigue, pale skin, a general look of someone who had not seen a healthy amount of Vitamin D in a very long time.

That wasn’t the only change. His hair had grown longer. So had his beard and mustache. Everything about him looked rougher now, messy, unkempt, dirty, and carrying the distinct smell of someone who had not been given the luxury of proper hygiene.

The only thing that made him stand out, was what he was wearing. His necromancer robes. Even in their current state, they were enough to draw attention. Prisoners glanced at him. Sailors glanced at him.

Everyone, at some point, seemed to wonder what is that man doing here? To be fair, the man was also wondering the exact same thing.

Three months ago, he had been dead on Earth.

Then he woke up in a magical world called Civara.

Then he became a summoned hero.

Then he got fired from being a hero.

Then he got chained and forced to march for two weeks.

Then he was packed into an overcrowded ship.

Then he spent another ten weeks at sea.

And now, here he was. Standing on a ship, looking at a completely different continent.

Now Theo truly understood why people always said slavery was bad. It wasn’t just the whipping scenes from movies, that was… a very small part of it. Reality had a lot more variation and most of it worse.

Fortunately, he had something that kept him going.

“Mirecrest… Godric… Rowena… Lyrion… Church… Lumia… Mirecrest… Godric…”

He repeated the words quietly under his breath, over and over. A mantra.

Technically, yes, it was more of a blacklist for future revenge. But it worked. It kept his mind focused. Unlike many of the other prisoners chained beside him who had long since stopped trying.

“GOOD MORNING, MAGGOTS!”

A booming voice cut through the air. Every prisoner looked up.

Standing on the upper deck near the helm, was the captain.

“Welcome to your new home,” he continued. “The Border Prisons.”

Ah, yes. That name. Theo had heard it many times during the journey. He also remembered how some prisoners had reacted to it. Totally not well.

Several people, given the same sentence as him, had chosen not to make it this far. One jumped off a cliff during the march. Another simply refused to drink water until he died.

And one—Theo still wasn’t sure how to categorize that one. The man had willingly thrown himself in front of a wild griffin. Not just that, he had spent several long embarassing minutes wriggling on the ground convincingly. Like a giant worm trying to attract its attention. It had worked eventually. Both prisoners and guards had actually clapped when the griffin finally pecked him apart like a chicken.

Honestly Theo still couldn’t decide what was more impressive. Seeing a griffin for the first time, or watching a man commit to a bit that hard.

“And now… you are free,” the captain said gracefully.

One by one, the sailors began unlocking the prisoners’ cuffs. Chains dropped and metal clinked against wood.

“Free to go back to your new home,” the captain added, grinning.

A pause. Then confusion.

“But… where’s the boat?” one prisoner asked, looking around. There was no dinghy. No rope ladder. Nothing.

“What boat?” the captain chuckled. “You’ve all been complaining about needing to move and stretch your muscles for weeks, right?”

He spread his arms slightly.

“Well then, go. Move. Stretch. All the way to the shore.”

The sailors stepped forward with spears raised and points aimed. The prisoners instinctively stepped back closer to the edge.

“It’s too far!” one of them pleaded, glancing at the distant shoreline.

“I—I can’t swim!” another shouted.

“Then it’s time to learn,” the captain replied, clearly enjoying himself.

The spears moved forward again.

Closer.

Closer.

The prisoners were now packed tightly together, heels brushing against the very edge of the ship. Panic spread quickly, voices overlapped. Fear became loud, everyone was terrified.

Everyone. Except Theo.

Without rushing, he began taking off his robe and shoes. He folded them carefully, bundling them together before tying them securely to his back. Then came the cape, he tied it in a somewhat unusual way.

“Now go, my ducklings,” the captain declared cheerfully. “Go forth and be free! HAHAHAHAHA!”

This time, the spears didn’t stop. They pushed. Those in the back stumbled forward, forcing the ones in front closer to the edge. And then, one by one they fell.

Splash.

Splash.

Splash.

Theo didn’t wait for his turn. He simply stepped forward and jumped.

---

Moments later, the deck was empty. All the prisoners were in the water.

Some immediately began swimming toward the shore in a panic, arms thrashing as they tried to cover the five hundred meters as quickly as possible. Others clung desperately to the hull of the ship.

That didn’t last long.

The sailors switched weapons. Spears were lowered, bows were raised. The message was clear. Let go or get shot.

Theo swam steadily toward the shore. Unlike the others, he wasn’t panicking. He moved with controlled strokes, conserving energy. The cape he had tied earlier now functioned as a crude flotation device, trapping air and helping keep him afloat. Simple and effective.

Most of the other prisoners were still wearing their full clothing—robes, shoes, everything—now soaked and dragging them down with every movement.

Theo had already solved that problem. It was something he had picked up from watching survival videos and practicing it back on Earth. At the time, he thought it might come in handy if he ever needed to disappear into the wilderness while running from the police.

He hadn’t expected to use it after dying.

---

After a long, exhausting swim, Theo finally reached the shore. He dragged himself onto the rocky ground alongside several other prisoners who had managed to make it.

Without wasting time, he untied his bundle, wrung the water out of his clothes, and began putting them back on. Then he looked around. Counting and estimating the survivors. Roughly thirty out of forty. Not great, not terrible.

---

Then he turned and looked at the land he had arrived on. He had seen it from the ship before.

From a distance, it looked barren and harsh, almost hellish. Up close, it was exactly that. The ground was dry and lifeless. No lush fantasy grasslands, no vibrant scenery. Just dirt, scattered bushes. and emptiness.

To the right, the massive red barrier stretched endlessly across the horizon, crackling faintly with energy. And ahead, if he narrowed his eyes, there was something far in the distance. A small stretch of forest.

Theo stared at it for a moment, then made his decision. That was where he was going.

“WHAT DID YOU SAY AGAIN?!”

The sudden shout cut through the air. Theo glanced over. A commotion had broken out among the survivors. Two large men were already in each other’s faces, shoving, posturing, one wrong move away from a full fight.

It didn’t take much to figure out what was happening. With the chains gone, someone had to establish who was on top. That was how these things always went. Put a group of desperate people together, remove the restraints, and sooner or later they’d start sorting themselves into a hierarchy.

Theo let out a quiet sigh.

Predictable. And more importantly, not his problem. That was his cue to leave.

Without drawing attention, he stepped away from the group and began walking toward the distant forest he had spotted earlier.

Another survival rule he had picked up back on Earth: Don’t stay out in the open longer than you have to.

---

Forested Area

By the time Theo reached the forest, several hours had passed.

His legs ached. His stomach felt painfully empty. At this point, even the miserable food from the ship was starting to feel nostalgic. He moved deeper into the trees, scanning his surroundings carefully for anything edible, and anything that might want to eat him first.

“Those isekai stories and RPG games…” he muttered under his breath, wiping sweat from his forehead.

“They’re such a scam…”

He exhaled heavily, trying to steady his breathing.

“There’s nothing exciting about walking for hours in a forest,” he continued. “No one ever mentions the tired legs… the hunger… ugh…”

Then he stopped. Something caught his eye. Fruits. Small, red, round, hanging from a nearby tree.

“…Oh. Oh.”

Theo walked over quickly, almost in disbelief. He reached up and picked one, holding it in his hand.

“Cherries?” he murmured.

He turned it slightly, examining it.

“There’s no poisonous cherry on Earth… right?”

A pause.

“…Hopefully that applies here too.”

Carefully, he placed one into his mouth. Sweet and slightly sour, exactly like a cherry.

Theo didn’t celebrate yet. Instead, he sat down and waited. Another survival rule: when you’re not sure about food, eat a little first. Then wait.

So he did.

Fifteen minutes passed and nothing happened. No dizziness. No pain. No bowel movement.

“…Hell yeah.” Relief hit immediately.

Theo got back up and started eating properly this time, picking more cherries and finally giving in to his hunger. He was halfway through his meal when—

“KYAAAAAA!”

A scream echoed through the forest. A female voice.

Theo froze, then turned toward the sound. It came from a clearing not too far away. He moved closer, just enough to see.

A figure burst into view, running. A woman dressed in medieval clothing. And—

Pointed ears! An elf! A beautiful elf!

Theo blinked. For a brief moment, something clicked in his mind.

Finally.

After everything—

Finally…A proper fantasy moment.

Then he stopped himself.

Right. Survival first.

He crouched behind a bush, watching carefully. What was chasing her? How big was it? Could he handle it?

A few seconds later he got his answer. A wolf. Not massive. Not monstrous. Just… a wolf.

“KYAAAAAA!!” The elf screamed again, still running.

Theo narrowed his eyes, thinking quickly.

Not too big.Probably manageable.

Decision made. He grabbed a rock and a stick that looked sturdy enough to be useful, and stepped out.

“STOP, YOU DAMN WOLF!” Theo shouted, jumping between them.

The elf stumbled and fell to the ground behind him. Theo planted his feet, raising the stick toward the wolf.

“BEGONE!” he declared. “DON’T YOU DARE HURT THIS LADY!”

For a brief moment everything aligned. The setup, the positioning, the timing. Behind him, the elf looked up at him with wide, shining eyes. Exactly like a damsel in distress. Exactly like the stories.

Theo felt it. This was it, this was the moment. Then, he noticed something.

“…Huh?”

The wolf wasn’t growling. It wasn’t baring its fangs, it wasn’t even moving aggressively. It just sat there. with its tail wagging. Like a dog.

Theo blinked. And in that exact moment, a sharp sting hit the back of his neck.

“—!”

He flinched, immediately reaching back. A small needle stuck in his skin. Slowly, he turned his head. The elf was no longer on the ground. She was standing and holding a blowpipe.

The wide, helpless expression was gone. Replaced by a small, satisfied grin.

“Got one,” she said cheerfully.

Theo stared at her.

Then at the wolf.

"Woof!" the wolf barked cheerfully.

Then back at her.

“…Ah.”

The realization came just in time his vision started to blur and his legs weakened.

“Crap…”

He dropped to his knees.

“What a fucking scam…” he muttered.

The world darkened. And then everything went pitch black. In the end, the first fantasy trope he experienced—

was also the first scam he suffered in this world.