REAPER SCANS

Monarch of Death

[Translator – Darkraider ]

[Proofreader – Harley ]

Chapter 39 - Night of the Undead (4)

Five rugged men stared in bewilderment at the scene before them.

“What the…?”

“Why are these motherfuckers dead?”

The five men were low-ranking members of the Ranpelt organization. They were searching the city with their comrades when they stumbled upon a group from another district, lifeless and sprawled across the ground.

“It looks too weird for this to have been an enemy attack…”

The scene screamed of an internal struggle, a bloody one at that.

Having lived in a city where such incidents were commonplace, they could tell at a glance. However, there was no reason for their own to turn on each other now.

“Did a mage tamper with the scene?”

“If that’s true…”

“That means he’s out there somewhere, watching us!”

A chill ran down their spines.

The soldiers turned their backs on the corpses, eyes scanning the fog-laden distance.

That’s when two blood-soaked bodies stood up on their own.

“Guuuh…”

Before the Ranpelt soldiers, startled by the groaning, could even turn around, a blade shot out from the grasp of a reanimated corpse and plunged deep into a man’s chest.

“K-kugh!”

A life was extinguished all too swiftly and easily.

The soldiers cried out in terror as their comrade crumpled to the ground, blood gushing from his wound.

“Aaaaagh!”

“Th-the corpses are moving!”

“Necromancy!”

The blood-soaked corpses advanced, swinging their weapons. The soldiers fought back in a frenzy.

“Damn it! Didn’t they say it was a mage?”

“Stupid executives!”

“They could’ve warned us about something this important!”

The street became a chaotic whirlwind of clashing steel, blood splattering across the cobblestones.

A soldier’s blade found its mark, burying itself deep within a corpse’s torso.

“Gruuuuugh…”

But it was no use. The dead don’t die twice. The reanimated corpses simply pressed forward, their attacks relentless.

A blade sank into the side of a soldier.

“Aagh!” the soldier screamed before lifelessly collapsing like a puppet whose strings had been cut.

The battle was a gruesome mismatch. The living, vulnerable flesh and bone, against the relentless, unfeeling dead.

“Aaaaagh!”

“A-aim for the neck!”

“They won’t die no matter how much I cut them!”

“Then cut off their limbs too! Just make sure they can’t move!”

It took a heavy toll to subdue just two reanimated corpses. Two of the five soldiers lay dead, while the remaining three were severely wounded, gasping for breath.

“Huff… huff…”

“We managed to destroy them…”

“…They won’t be getting up again.”

They had gone beyond simply killing the reanimated corpses. They had pulverized their skulls, hacked their limbs into mangled chunks of meat. Even if they somehow stirred again, they wouldn’t pose a threat.

“Damn it all. I didn’t know moving corpses could be this terrifying,” one of the soldiers muttered, his face suddenly draining of color.

‘Wait a minute, moving corpses…?’ a thought occurred to him.

There were now two more corpses present. Their comrades, freshly slain by the reanimated horrors.

“Urrrgh…”

“Guaaaah…”

As if on cue, their dead comrades began to stir, rising as zombies.

Screams of terror pierced the night fog, echoing through the desolate streets.

“Aaaaaaaah!”

***

Bizarre and horrifying events were unfolding all across the city.

Comrades turned on each other, and then their lifeless bodies rose as zombies to attack their former allies.

However, the Ranpelt soldiers were not to be underestimated.

In a street in central Trist City, a dozen soldiers were in the midst of dismembering three zombies.

“H-huff… huff…”

“Hmph! As if we’d lose to mere zombies…”

“Stay calm, they’re nothing to worry about!”

These were veterans of countless battles, accustomed to bloodshed and death. They weren’t fazed by a few measly zombies.

One wiped the blood from his face and spat on the ground. “Hah! Does that necromancer think this is enough to shake us?”

Guilt over killing their former comrades? None of them had such concerns.

They wouldn’t even hesitate to kill their living comrades if the situation called for it. What did it matter if they were already corpses?

“Search the area! That necromancer has to be nearby!”

Several subordinates dispersed into the surrounding streets, their eyes scanning every nook and cranny.

A moment later, a shout echoed from a nearby alley.

“They’re over here!”

“So that’s where you were hiding!”

As if lying in wait, the soldiers charged into the alley, weapons drawn.

But as they rounded the corner, their eyes widened in surprise.

“Huh?”

“What the?”

The alley was empty. There was no sign of the necromancer, nor the soldier who had shouted.

“…Who just shouted that?”

As they stood there, bewildered, they heard another subordinate call out from the street.

“Over here, sir!” he reported, before quickly running into the fog.

Shaking their heads in confusion, the others followed after him.

“When did they manage to escape thataway?”

But when they emerged onto the street, the subordinate was nowhere to be seen.

“Where’d he go?”

Just as they were about to spread out and search, a figure came sprinting towards them from the opposite direction.

“There’s nothing over there, captain.”

It was the same soldier who had just vanished into the fog.

“What the? When did you go that way?” the leader asked, his brow furrowed in confusion.

“Excuse me?”

“You just ran that way!”

“What?”

They stared at each other, baffled.

Then, they heard footsteps approaching.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Emerging from the fog was the same soldier, for the third time.

“Captain, there’s no one he—Gah! What the…?!”

He stared at his other self across the street, his eyes wide with terror.

As confusion gripped the group, the captain muttered, “Now that I think about it, we heard his footsteps this time, didn’t we?”

A sudden realization dawned on him. They hadn’t heard anything a moment ago.

“It’s a trick! That one’s a fake!” the captain roared.

He was a veteran of Trist City, having survived countless dangers. He wouldn’t fall for such a simple illusion!

“You bastard!”

“How dare you try and fool us!”

Cursing, the soldiers charged towards the illusion, their blades thirsty for blood.

“Wh-what’s going on?” the accused soldier stammered, his voice filled with confusion.

But they didn’t care. In this city, hesitation meant death. They had to act swiftly and decisively to survive.

“Aaaaagh!”

And in an instant, a man was shredded into pieces.

That’s right. They had just killed a person.

Not an illusion, not a phantom, but a living, breathing human being.

Standing amidst the carnage, their blades dripping with blood, the soldiers stared at each other, their faces pale with horror.

“Uhm…”

“This doesn’t seem right…”

“He felt real…”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” their captain scoffed, his voice trembling. “There’s no way he was real.”

After all, the real one was right behind him. He had clearly heard his footsteps.

“Isn’t that right, Proth?” he said, turning to face his subordinate.

The captain flinched, “Proth?”

Proth was gone. His subordinate, who had been standing right behind him just moments ago, had vanished.

“Where’d he go?”

No, that wasn’t quite right.

Proth was still there… lying on the ground, his body riddled with wounds.

A cold dread gripped the soldiers’ hearts.

“Then… that means…”

“The one we just killed was…”

The corpse began to stir.

“Grrrgh…”

Betrayed and murdered by his own comrades…

“Guuuugh…”

Proth rose as a zombie, filled with resentment. The corpse radiated death and corrupt energy.

“Aaaaaaaah!”

* * *

Reaper Scans

[Translator – Darkraider ]

[Proofreader – Harley ]

Join our discord for updates on releases! https://dsc.gg/reapercomics

* * *

They could no longer trust their eyes.

Comrades were disappearing right before their eyes, replaced by comrades who shouldn’t be there.

“Damn it! What’s going on?”

They could no longer trust their ears.

Auditory hallucinations didn’t involve simply simulating noises that shouldn’t be there. It also involved masking sounds that should normally be heard.

“But I swear I didn’t hear anything…”

When they stabbed a comrade that came running at them without making any noise, crimson blood gushed from their wounds.

When they turned their backs on a chattering comrade, the comrade would suddenly vanish into thin air a moment later.

“Everyone, stay alert!”

“Don’t get separated! Stick together!”

Could they at least trust the warmth of their comrades’ backs pressed against theirs?

But that warmth quickly turned cold, replaced by a chilling, deathly touch.

Shnnnk!

“Gah!”

“H-how…?”

He was stabbed by a fellow soldier, who was living and breathing till just a moment ago. His ex-comrade was a bloody corpse, walking the earth again as an undead.

“S-scatter!”

“There’s a zombie among us!”

“That’s impossible! He was fine just a moment ago…”

Caught in panic and terror, they tried their best to slaughter the zombies.

A soldier saw the eyes of one of his brethren-in-arms roll back bizarrely.

“Hey! Y-your eyes…” he stammered, his voice trembling with fear.

“What about my eyes?” the other snapped, his voice laced with irritation.

For a fleeting moment, the soldier felt a surge of relief from his comrade’s human-like response.

Plop!

Then, his comrade’s eye popped out of their socket, dangling by a bloody thread.

“Aaaaaaaah!”

Screams filled the air as the soldiers lashed out in terror, their blades finding their mark with deadly accuracy.

“Kugh! Why did you…?” the comrade collapsed, his voice choked with disbelief and betrayal.

The survivors panted and gasped for air, staring down at the dead in terror.

They collectively had similar thoughts.

‘Wh-what did I just see?’

‘I swear I saw his eye roll down his cheek…’

But the corpse’s eyes were perfectly intact. Staring up at them with a vacant, lifeless gaze.

And then, the corpse rose, its limbs jerking unnaturally as it joined the ranks of the undead.

“Grrrgh…”

They could no longer trust anyone.

Not even themselves.

All they could do was scream in fear, confusion, and despair.

“Aaaaaaaah!”

***

Karnak continued his work, a twisted grin spreading across his face.

He stalked the streets of Trist City, searching for his prey: goons of House Ranpelt.

It wasn’t a difficult task. They were hardly known for their subtlety, their violent shakedowns echoing through the city streets.

Whenever he found a group, he would cloak himself in a Veil of Darkness, his presence masked from their senses. Then, he would plant seeds of paranoia and discord among them by charming them.

Since his necrotic power was limited, he couldn’t unleash large-scale illusions. But it was more than enough.

It took little necrotic power to make them hear faint whispers.

“Fooled you,” Karnak whispered.

Those two words, whispered into the minds of the paranoid and desperate, were all it took to send them spiraling into chaos.

“Y-you traitor!”

“Wait! Why are you accusing me?”

Of course, some tried to maintain their composure, trying to fix the situation.

“Calm down, everyone!”

“Someone’s messing with us! Can’t you see that?”

Here, Karnak only had to give another slight nudge in the form of an illusion.

“Wait a minute… your face…”

“What about my face?”

“Aaaaah! Stay back, you monster!”

“What in the hell are you talking about?!”

They turned on each other, increasing the number of corpses. Then those corpses would come back to kill the living, creating even additional corpses.

And then something Karnak did not expect started occurring.

Ordinary citizens saw the chaos unfolding against the Ranpelt soldiers…

“Look! Those Ranpelt scum are getting what they deserve!”

“And they’re carrying some expensive-looking weapons and armor…”

The scattered soldiers were being murdered left and right in the blink of an eye by the residents of Trist.

“This is what happens when there are only villains around,” Karnak chuckled, his amusement tinged with a hint of dark satisfaction.

When surrounded by evil, people saw evil reflected in everything and everyone around them. The world becomes a dark and twisted place, where the slightest provocation can trigger a bloodbath.

And the citizens of Trist City were all too eager to partake in the violence.

“This is why you need to live a virtuous life,” Karnak mused aloud.

“That’s very rich coming from you, young master,” Baros scoffed. “If we had lived righteous lives, we wouldn’t be in this mess, would we?”

“That’s why we’re dedicating ourselves to virtuous missions like right now!”

Serati shuddered, her eyes fixed on the carnage unfolding before her. “So this is true necromancy…”

Karnak hadn’t unleashed waves of darkness and turned the city into a literal hell like the necromancers in legends.

All he did was cast simple charm magic while sneaking about the city. And yet, people continued to drop dead…

‘Did I make the right choice becoming this man’s thrall?’ she wondered, her resolve wavering.

She was no stranger to death or even murder. As an adventurer, battles were common and unavoidable, and there’d also been plenty of times she had to punish evil-doers.

But this was different. Was it okay to kill people so easily, even if they were villains?

Sensing her gaze, Karnak turned to face her, a sheepish grin spreading across his face. “I’ve shown you a shameful side of myself. I promise I’m not like this normally.”

‘So he at least has a semblance of a conscience,’ Serati thought, feeling a sliver of relief. He genuinely looked embarrassed. ‘I guess even a necromancer can’t commit such atrocities without it weighing on—’

“Normally I would have simply blanketed the entire city in dark magic power and raised an undead army,” Karnak continued, “But my necrotic power is a mere shadow of its former glory. So please, don’t look at me with such disappointed eyes.”

‘…That’s what he was embarrassed about?’ Serati was baffled.

Oblivious to her reaction, Karnak sighed dramatically. “It’s tough living without power, you know?”

This was indeed a tedious and time-consuming process. In his prime, he would have never resorted to such annoying, round-about methods.

But it was effective. With each passing moment, more men dropped dead. Their resentful corpses walked the earth while their resentful spirits loomed in the skies.

“I think that more or less matches our numbers,” Karnak murmured, raising his hand.

“Arise, my army…” His voice echoed through the shadows across the entire city. “Become a Legion of Death and march under my command!”

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