The Genesis Of A Necromancer

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Jack's vision blurred as if the world around him were dissolving into mist. His legs felt like they had been carved from stone, his every step a struggle against an invisible weight. He shuffled behind Alisha, his breaths shallow and labored, each one a battle to draw enough air into his lungs.

The oppressive atmosphere of the planes weighed heavily on him, each passing moment sapping his strength. The air here carried an unnatural stillness, thick and suffocating. Shadows twisted and stretched across the barren wasteland, their shapes uncanny and foreboding, as though unseen eyes watched their every move.

Then his body gave in.

Jack collapsed with a sickening thud, dust rising in a small plume around him. The sound was as heavy as the silence that followed.

'Is the lack of soul essence supposed to hit this hard?' he thought bitterly, his body refusing to cooperate. His head lolled against the cold ground, his thoughts a whirlwind of frustration and fatigue.

"What now?" Alisha's voice cut through the stillness, sharp and irritated. Her head whipped around at the sound of Jack hitting the ground. "Are you seriously giving up now?"

She had tolerated the sound of his shuffling feet, but this was too much. Her frustration boiled over, her voice dripping with barely-contained anger.

Jack groaned, pushing himself to sit upright, though every movement felt like dragging boulders. "I'm weak," he admitted through gritted teeth. "I burned too much energy back there."

Alisha folded her arms, glaring down at him. "And what exactly do you want me to do about it? Carry you?" Her tone was scathing, her anger bubbling over as she stared at him in disbelief.

Jack leaned back against the rough earth, his head tilted toward the bleak, starless sky. The weight of exhaustion pressed down on him, but he managed a wry smile. "If you're offering, I won't say no," he quipped, though his voice lacked its usual sharpness.

She let out a sound of exasperation and turned away, scanning the desolate landscape for any sign of direction. The tension between them was palpable, thick as the air of the planes.

"Why are you so calm about all this?" she asked after a moment, her voice quieter but still edged with irritation. "Look around, Jack. We're stranded. We have no food, no water, and no idea where we're headed. Your so-called power hasn't exactly been helpful so far."

'Lord,' Jack mused, her words sparking an ironic smile. They thought him the Lord of the Planes, but that couldn't be further from the truth. He was an intruder, a stranger inhabiting the Lord's body. He bore the power, yes, but wielding it was like playing with fire—dangerous and unpredictable.

'Still,' Jack thought, his mind flicking to the novel's lore, 'I know enough to make it work.'

The planes were vividly detailed in the book's pages, their geography and dangers painstakingly laid out by the author. While his knowledge wasn't perfect, it was enough to give them a chance at survival.

"I know a few things about this place," he admitted, his voice steadying as he sat up straighter. "This is the third plane, ruled by Zomaza. There are settlements nearby, but walking into one as we are now would be suicide. Our aura would give us away immediately."

Jack reached for his waistband, his fingers brushing against the worn leather of his notebook. He pulled it free, flipping through its pages until he found a crude map he had sketched from memory. He spread the book out on the ground, the faint glow of the plane's unnatural light illuminating the markings.

Alisha leaned over, her curiosity piqued. Her brows furrowed as she tried to decipher the strange symbols scrawled across the paper. "What language is this?" she asked, her tone more curious than accusatory. "It doesn't look like anything demonic."

Jack smirked. "It's my language. You wouldn't know it." He tapped the map with his finger. "The closest settlement to this wasteland is the Mega City, but we can't go there as we are. We need to cloak our presence first."

Alisha straightened, folding her arms again. "And how exactly do you propose we do that?"

Jack didn't miss the hint of doubt in her voice. "We kill a beast," he replied simply, "and use its blood to mask our scent. That'll make us blend in—at least enough to avoid immediate suspicion."

Alisha's eyes narrowed. "That's barbaric." Read exclusive chapters at My Virtual Library Empire

Jack shrugged. "Barbaric works. Besides, you're not exactly inconspicuous with that princess tiara of yours."

"It's not a tiara," she snapped, her cheeks flushing with indignation. "It's the Empowerment of the Lord Olion. Show some respect, you demon."

"Looks like a tiara to me," Jack said, a teasing lilt in his voice. "But whatever. We've got bigger problems." He pushed himself to his feet, wobbling slightly before steadying himself. His skin was pale, his lips cracked—he looked like a man on the brink of collapse.

"Where do we even find beasts to kill here?" Alisha asked, her frustration giving way to concern as she watched him struggle to stand.

"We don't find them," Jack replied. "They'll find us."

Alisha's frown deepened. "Why haven't they found us already, then?"

Jack sighed, leaning against her shoulder for support—a move she surprisingly didn't push away. "They haven't caught your scent yet," he explained. "But they will. Think of it like cooking. What attracts you to food? The smell."

"And what exactly is the 'smell' in this scenario?" she asked, her voice wary.

"Your blood," Jack said, his tone matter-of-fact. His words carried a faint edge of menace, his eyes flashing with an unreadable emotion.

Alisha didn't flinch. "Fine," she said, holding out her wrist without hesitation. "If it's necessary, then do it."

Jack blinked, taken aback by her lack of resistance. 'Is she serious?' he thought, half-expecting her to recoil. But she remained still, her expression resolute.

'Well, it works for me,' he thought, drawing his blade. He made a shallow cut across her wrist, the bright red blood welling up and spilling onto the ground. The metallic scent filled the air, sharp and potent.

A cold wind swept past them, carrying the scent across the wasteland. The effect was immediate.

The ground beneath them began to tremble, small ripples spreading across the sand. Jack's grip tightened on his blade, his senses sharpening as he prepared for what was coming.

Alisha's eyes darted around, her composure slipping for the first time. "What's happening?"

Jack grinned, though his expression was grim. "The beasts have caught the scent. They're coming."

The air grew heavier, the silence of the planes shattered by distant roars. Shadows shifted in the distance, growing larger with each passing second. The hunt had begun.

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