Join her army?

  The cryptic nature of her words left Elas perplexed, his mind swirling with questions.

  If Elas could be even more afraid of Vargha, it would be due to what happened after she said arise. Two massive creatures emerge out from the darkness of the night itself. The first appeared on Vargha’s left, an eight-foot-tall skeleton cloaked in a hooded black robe. Only its skeletal face and skinless hands were visible. What truly terrified Elas was the way the giant skeleton moved—gliding silently towards Vargha, hovering three meters above the ground. It kneeled to her and, in a voice both calming and eerie, said,

  “I am at your service, Young Mistress.”

  Elas stood in stunned disbelief. The thing just appeared out of nowhere. The sight of the talking skeleton sent shivers cascading down his spine. Its hollow eyes and skeletal visage were unnerving enough, but the way it bowed to Vargha, as if they were long-time confidants, only deepened his unease. The familiarity between them was both alarming and mysterious, hinting an unspoken bond that made his blood run cold.

  “Ongronas, it brings me great joy to see you once more.” Vargha's smirk has grown to a smile.

  Wait a minute, why did I say that?

  Our protagonist was bewildered. The words that had just escaped his lips seemed to possess a will of their own, as if they were being guided by some unseen entity.

  He had never seen this Ongronas before. And how in the hell did he even know this giant skeleton’s name was Ongronas? Why is his heart racing with contentment and gratitude as if meeting up with a friend you hadn’t seen in years?

  Am I sensing your emotions, Vargha? If you can hear me, please understand that inhabiting your body wasn’t my choice. But I must say, I am grateful for the Nenniaidae. You are my favorite kind of being—a necromancer. I've been longing for your power since I've lost my family. Now knowing there's an entire necromancer race that exists is a revelation. You are truly one of a kind.

  Necromancy had always been seen as a class or an ability—a mere skillset for those daring enough to dabble in the dark arts. But as our protagonist observed, discovering an entire race devoted to mastering control over the dead was nothing short of a paradise for him. His life on Earth had been harsh, marked by struggle and hardship, which had hardened his spirit and drawn him to the shadows rather than the light.

  Carl Jung called it The Shadow, and our protagonist had embraced his fully. Tragedy had shaped him, forged an affinity with the rulers of the dead, who, much like him, tend to be introverted, loners, and stoic. Necromancers, with their silent, solitary ways, reflected his own heart. They shared his emotional scars, and in their power, he found solace and a sense of belonging. The revelation of a necromancer race was more than a mere discovery—it was a profound connection to a part of himself that had always lurked in the darkness.

  “It’s a great honor for you to miss me, Young Mistress. I, too, have missed you. The seal has finally been broken after all this time.”

  “E-Elas?”

  “Yes, my Lord?”

  “Do you know of any demons who can summon skeletons?”

  “No. I don’t-UGH!!” Suddenly, the tall knight was pushed from behind with such force that he landed flat on his face, but when he quickly stood to his feet and looked at the “thing” who had pushed him, the arm he had raised to slice them in two quickly lowered.

  “Move.” The command rumbled from a powerful, deep voice. The monstrous figure took deliberate strides toward Vargha. Reaching the Nenniaidae, it joined Ongronas in a kneeling of reverence. “Greetings, Young Mistress,” it said. "I am ready to slaughter all your enemies.”

  I know who he is as well.

  Vargha chuckles lightly, swiping her hair behind an ear. “Dar’reem, always ready to kill for me.”

  His colossal frame radiated raw power. He has bulging muscles rippling beneath his taut, leathery grey skin. Encasing his formidable body was an organic armor that appeared as though it were carved from stone. The armor covered his legs from knees to feet, his hands up to his razor-sharp elbows, and enveloped his entire torso and broad shoulders, forming imposing shoulder guards. It also sheathed his squared jawline and extended over his pronounced brow ridge. Two massive, curved horns jutted from his forehead, arcing backward. His piercing solid eyes glowed with an otherworldly violet hue. He possessed no iris or pupils.

  It appears our protagonist has also inherited Vargha’s memories. Within his mind lies the knowledge of an unbelievable feat of destruction Dar'reem accomplished in the past. In the language of power scalers, referring to him as a "world buster" would be nothing short of an insult. The sheer magnitude of Dar'reem’s power defies comprehension.

  “You see the demons all around us...” Vargha motioned at the thousands of Tror’oras surrounding them. “Kill them.”

  Dar’reem stands up. “The Tror’oras, huh…they are not worth using E'od. Brute strength is enough. May I start now, Young Mistress?”

  “Yes.”

  “And don’t you go using your Fatal Lullaby again, Ongronas!!” Dar’reem demanded, pointing one of his razor-sharp nails at the giant skeleton. “You will stay out of this one.”

  "Ah... so you remember." Ongronas's grin sent a wave of dread crashing over Elas.

  The damn thing has fangs!! Fangs as sharp and as long as a Brorgosh. By the Might of Rogdyr, I am relieved Miss Vargha is on our side.

  Had he seen Dar'reem's mouth full of all canines he might have passed out.

  “I remember. You didn’t save any for me.”

  “The setting was much more dire than it is here. The Young Mistress was only but a child during that time. Do you remember the Battle of Tonath?”

  “Sadly, no. Why was there a battle in Tonath?”

  Though Vargha doesn’t recall the battle, our protagonist does know what Tonath is. It’s the name of a nation in the demonic realm.

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  “Fear.”

  Vargha was about to ask to elaborate, but Elas chimes in on a self-evident and vital matter.

  “Um, ma’am? I understand this may be a reunion for you, but the Tror’oras are still at large.”

  “Yes. I’m sorry.” Vargha turns to Dar’reem. “You can let loose; just don’t destroy this universe like you have another. Only kill the Tror’oras. Got it?”

  “Yes, Young Mistress. Only the Tror’oras..”

  “You kill the ones behind me, and I will get the ones in front of me.”

  “Yes, Young Mistress.” Dar’reem goes back-to-back with her.

  “What about me?” Ongronas chimes in, who is still kneeling.” I wish to serve you as well, Young Mistress.”

  Well actually. I am curious to know what his abilities are, too. What’s this Fatal Lullaby Dar’reem mentioned?

  With her Spector’s Reward ability, our protagonist wanted to join in on the fight and get kills of his own rather than having his servants do all the work for her like most necromancers tend to do.

  Aware that the power boost is significantly greater when Vargha herself makes the kill rather than her servants, it’s only natural that he craves the thrill of combat, eager to catch some bodies with his own strength and grow even stronger. But today, he'll make an exception.

  “Ok. Then you can take care of the rest.”

  The giant skeleton finally stands with a smile on its skinless face. “Thank you, Young Mistress. I-“

  “YOU won't get in my way. “Dar’reem finished for him.

  Ongronas let out a soft chuckle. "I assure you; I will not hinder your path."

  “Good.”

  The skeleton turns to the Adventurer and the King of Dugria. “Elas and Reth, heed my words. Stay close to the Young Mistress if you value your lives.”

  Both of them double-blinked and swallowed dry spit.

  “Uh, yeah. My lord, a-and I will stay close to Miss Vargha.”

  How does he know our names?! This is just completely wild. One thing after a fucking other!

  Could they know what Vargha hears and sees even before being summoned? Elas is so terrified he could barely stay on his feet. It wasn’t just him and Reth with trembling hearts; the Tror’oras, too, stood paralyzed, and silent, in their tracks at the sight of Vargha and her servants. The demons recognized the formidable power of this woman and her summons. They felt the same eerie, menacing aura emanating from the trio. Fighting them would be futile.

  Once Reth and Elas did what Ongronas said. The large skeleton engulfs the two and every human in the area that is still alive in a black circular force field like structure and made them float 5 feet in the air. “You shall be guarded against what is to come.”

  All those who heard him, nodded.

  They quickly found out why the skeleton did what he did. Dar’reem had unleashed the loudest and most primitive roar they had ever heard.

  “GRRRRRRAUUUUUGH!!!!”

  His bestial roar was so mighty that it unleashed a shockwave, causing a massive crater to form beneath his feet and extending in a 50-mile radius. The force of the roar toppled everything and everyone in its path, except only Vargha, Ongronas, and all those who are inside Ongronas's shield. The force field not only save them from getting their bones rattled from the vibration of the roar but also from their ear drums being exploded. Since inside, the roar was dimmed to a muffle.

  The Tror’oras were not immune to the immense power of the scream, however. They were hurled through the air, crashing into whatever lay in their trajectory. The cacophony of collapsing buildings filled the air as structures crumbled under the force. Billows of smoke rose from the devastation, obscuring the wreckage and creating a scene of utter chaos.

  “COME, TROR’ORAS!!!” Dar’reem shouts. “BECOME NOURISHMENT FOR THE YOUNG MISTRESS!! YOUR DEATHS WILL NOT BE FOR NAUGHT!!”

  But once he was finished and paid attention to his surroundings, Dar’reem noticed he and everyone were submerged in the smoke he had caused.

  “I told you to hold back, Dar’reem.” Vargha said as the smoke began to subside.

  He turned to her with a raised eyebrow. “But I did, Young Mistress.”

  “Well, look at what you did. You destroyed peoples homes. And killed innocents.”

  "Rest assured, Young Mistress, I have secured all the humans not slain in my Wraith Ward."

  “Don’t worry, Vargha.” Reth cuts in. Seeming to finally snap out of his shock. “The city can be rebuilt. The demons are the main priority.”

  “Okay. After this, I promise to help with the damage.”

  “Thank you."

  The Tror’oras began to recover from the deafening roar, struggling to rise to their feet. However, Dar’reem was relentless, giving them no chance to fully stand before unleashing his next onslaught.

  He launched himself at the nearest Tror’oras, who had reached its knees and delivered a devastating punch to its face.

  SHAKROOM!!!!

  A tremendous boom echoed as the demon's body was pulverized into mush, sending shockwaves rippling through the area and beyond. The force of the impact was so immense that it shattered the ground, creating fissures that spread like spiderwebs. The air was filled with the sound of destruction, as debris flew in all directions. Assoriah seemed to tremble under the sheer power unleashed.

  One after another, Dar’reem obliterated the Tror’oras with astonishing speed, despite his enormous size. Each strike was a cataclysmic event, leaving a trail of devastation in its wake.

  SHAKROOM!!!

  KABOOM!!!

  SHAKROOM!!

  I can’t follow his movements! Sweat streamed down Elas’ face under the helm as he watched the demon's body explode.

  In less than three seconds, Dar’reem brutally ripped and tore ten thousand and forty Tror’oras apart. He has been punching and splitting them in two with his bare hands. Vargha noticed that her body felt rejuvenated with each kill he made despite not being fatigued. With each kill, a new limiter was broken.

  Once the chaos stopped and Dar’reem could be seen again, kneeling before Vargha, his body drenched in black blood. “The deed has been done, Young Mistress.”

  “Good job, Dar’reem. Was being sealed for so long build up some tension?”

  “It did. I would ask you to allow me to take care of the rest."

  “No. I want to see what Ongronas will do." She grows a smirk, looking at her brutish servant. “But stand tall and raise your head, Dar'reem. Your mistress is proud of you."

  " I shall begin." Ongronas positioned his hands as if he were holding an invisible bottle. Darkness began conjuring from under his positioned hands, forming what looked like a 15-inch stick. Once it started to show its details, it was a flute—a dark black flute.

  Now, how will a skeleton be able to play a flute? Our protagonist said.

  Playing the flute with lips and tongue would be ideal, and Ongronas has neither of those. Yet, miraculously, as he brought the flute close to his mouth, haunting sounds began to emanate. Three words perfectly describe the song of this flute: uncanny, melancholy, and enchanting. It calmed the soul, offering a deceptive sense of comfort and security, mingled with a profound longing and sorrow, as if your subconscious was acutely aware of the inevitable fate awaiting you.

  The melody was so deeply melancholy and soothing that it rendered any resistance futile, paralyzing the body. Despite Ongronas only playing the flute, an array of different instruments could be heard, like a piano, strings, and ethereal voices, as if an entire orchestra of the dead was trapped within the flute. The eerie harmony echoed through the air, each note a whisper from the beyond, weaving an enchanting, spectral symphony that ensnared the minds of all who listened.

  As Ongronas played his Fatal Lullaby, it wasn’t long before the thuds of the remaining 39,960 Tror'oras bodies dropping face first on the pavement could be heard. But even after all the Tror'oras were dead, Ongronas continued to play. Black misty orbs came from the bodies of the demons and rushed into Vargha.

  She remains unperturbed as the orbs suddenly fly into her body at light speed. The moment they enter, she feels the same exhilarating sensation she experienced from Dar'reem's brutal killings.

  Indeed, the more her servants slay, the more unstoppable she becomes. Truly terrifying.

  "It's done."