Grandson of the Holy Emperor is a Necromancer

A long time ago, there was a time when Rahamma summoned an extraordinary soothsayer to the royal castle. He did it purely for his entertainment. Indeed, it was nothing more than a distraction to help him forget his boredom.

The soothsayer was just a mere slave. Even then, Rahamma still told this man to see into Aslan's future while he was still its king.

When that happened, the soothsayer replied with an expression of unadulterated delight on his face.

-Aslan shall be saved!

Rahamma was stunned by that declaration.

At first, he thought that the soothsayer was merely saying some nice-sounding words in order to please him. But that wasn't it.

The soothsayer was genuinely smiling.

-The land of death will vanish. The verdant fields will spread all over Aslan!

He was visibly excited.

Tremors ran through his whole body, and with an enraptured face, he proclaimed a fervent revelation to his king, Rahamma.

-The winds of sand will no longer blow, while the murderous sunlight and bone-chilling night air will vanish alongside them as well! Our land will soon be blessed with the abundance of nature where warm rays of sunlight and gentle, cooling nightly breezes embrace us.

The eyes of Rahamma sitting on the throne widened greatly. Even before he knew it, his interest had been piqued and he was now paying undivided attention to the prophecy.

It was as if the soothsayer was reading from a fairy tale for children as he wildly gestured with his whole body.

-The land of death that no other kings in history managed to solve will soon feature hues of green so lush and blessed that no other lands can ever rival it! Yes, it shall turn into the chosen land, instead!

Rahamma felt pleased after hearing those words that seemed to be praising him.

This was appropriate, because he had been planning to start a war of conquest. His target was the Theocratic Empire. He wished to acquire its territory for himself.

The negotiation with the 'Third Imperial Prince' had already concluded by now. Although it was a top secret that only a few knew about, it seemed that the soothsayer had coincidentally guessed it correctly.

Rahamma grinned deeply.

This event had been good entertainment, indeed.

It seemed like a fine idea to keep this slave around and turn him into a personal entertainer for the rest of his life.

Rahamma rested his chin on his hand and questioned the soothsayer again.

-Does that mean I shall be recorded in history as the greatest conqueror of all time?

The soothsayer flinched from that question, before cocking his head. He replied with a question of his own.

He asked, what are you even talking about?

-You will be reviled as the worst king in history.

-...

-Because of you, countless cities will burn down. Also, innumerable subjects will lose their lives. Your reckless ambition will drive Aslan to the brink of annihilation.

Rahamma's face hardened.

The soothsayer was mocking his own king without a shred of fear.

-However, even though you'll become a villain, it is also undeniably true that you will contribute greatly to Aslan's history. This is because you will be responsible for calling the 'angel' to this land. In addition, you have sired the child who will be chosen by the angel.

The soothsayer's expression remained one of rapture.

This slave, cursed with the superhuman ability of [Prophecy], cried out in elation with the look of a man swimming in pure bliss.

-Because of you, Aslan shall receive her salvation! Along with the sacred angel, the chosen princess will bring salvation to Aslan's lands. Oh, hear me, you foolish and arrogant king! With this act you're about to embark on, you have truly outdone yourself! Hahaha!

King Rahamma shot up from the throne and grabbed the throat of the soothsayer before lifting the latter clean off the ground.

-I see. So you were a spy sent by the Theocratic Empire.

Aslan couldn't tolerate this soothsayer's ludicrous declarations anymore. What this fool had said could mistakenly be interpreted as Aslan falling to the Theocratic Empire.

Rahamma became incensed, and broke the soothsayer's neck right there and then to kill him.

However, the soothsayer with the broken neck still continued to yap away despite dangling lifelessly in Rahamma's grip.

-Ahhh, a truly sacred legion comes.

Rahamma flinched in surprise and stared at the soothsayer.

-While wearing white armour, their white eyes glow sharply from under the white helms.

The eyes of the soothsayer had turned milky-white by then.

-They are crawling out from the ground.

His expression still remained entranced, not one of pain or suffering.

-Are they undead? No, anyone who sees them will not think of them as the undead.

-They are the guardians, the saviours summoned by the angel himself!

-Now, behold! Their sacred white armour!

-Now, listen! Their sacred hymns!

-He is no doubt the existence beloved by the gods.

-He is the visitor from another world invited to our own.

-He will save the world as the Sai...!

Rahamma ripped the soothsayer's throat clean off. Only then did the dead man's lips that continued to flap finally come to a stop.

Cold sweat drops trickled down Rahamma's back. What had been said just now had gone way past the assertions of a simple slave. He worked hard to calm his pounding heart and dismissed the prophecy as some crazed ramblings of a lunatic.

He told himself that the slave just so happened to be a fanatical believer of the Theocratic Empire's official religion who also happened to possess the superhuman ability of [Prophecy].

...But that mindset had to change after witnessing the spectacle unfolding before his very eyes.

Currently, Rahamma was standing on top of the city's outer wall. As he continued to stare agog at the scene playing out before him, he sucked in a deep breath.

The white-coloured legion as spoken about the soothsayer...

An undead army numbering at least one thousand combatants...

The creatures breathing out azure-white divinity were now standing in rank and file.

The light in their eyes glowed ominously.

While professionally maintaining their ranks, they raised their shields and pointed with their spears. Monstrous howls and screeches reverberated out as the swords and maces were gripped tightly in their hands.

Boom, booooom!

The earth below trembled next. The ancient guardians, Cyclops Golems, began raising their huge bodies. There were ten of them in total; their hands gripped large greatswords and their lone eyes were glowing in the unmistakable crimson hue.

Rahamma couldn't see a single error or a slip-up anywhere. Those things... they were different from the usual creaky, doll-like summoned undead. Every single one of them moved perfectly as if they possessed ego.

And in front of this 'heroic' undead army, one boy stood tall while wearing a mountain goat's skull on his head.

He summoned a skeleton horse and climbed on it.

What the soothsayer had said was correct.

That existence down there... He was the disharmonious creature.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

The undead soldiers raised up their weapons, then slammed them on the ground. Their jaws split open and monstrous screeches exploded out.

As the combined roars of the undead resounded out, the Aslan army grew stiffer and stiffer from nervousness. The faces of the living soldiers grew tenser as sweat drops trickled down their faces.

Their breathing grew faster and more laboured, and even their legs began trembling weakly, as well.

The boy didn't say a single word.

He simply pointed his finger at the Aslan army, and nothing more.

But then, all sounds seemed to come to a dead stop with a 'snap!'

This eerie silence only served to instil an even greater level of fear in the hearts of Aslan's soldiers.

The undead army suddenly cocked their heads, and as the light in their eyes glowed brightly, they took a step forward.

The march of the holy undead army had begun.

"...!"

Only then did the army of Aslan regain their wits.

"All personnel, get ready for combat!"

"C-call for additional support! Contact the main army, now!"

Signal flares went up from the Aslan camp to alert the main army stationed elsewhere.

Meanwhile, the Aslan commanding officer hurriedly looked around.

The undead army was gradually closing in. They were walking slowly for now, but that story didn't apply to the chariots and mounted troops.

The skeleton horses shook their heads. Their glowing eyes glared at their living targets as their gallops got faster and faster.

Clak-clok, clak-clok, clak-clok...

The undead horses raised their speed higher and higher.

Rough breaths containing divinity gushed out from their bony maws.

Skeletons riding on the chariots cracked their whips in the air and readied their spears and bows.

-Kkiiiiaaaaahk!

They screeched out so loudly that their jaws almost came loose. The advance guards were roaring out to announce their presence.

"The enemy's chariot regiment and mounted troops are coming!"

"Hurry up and set up the pike wall! Now!"

Long spears – pikes – were raised up within the Aslan camp. One pair of soldiers controlled one pike about three metres in length. Many of them were thrust forward and held down.

"Necromancers, support the frontline, too! Decrease the enemy's advancing speed as much as possible!"

The Necromancers chanted their spells and summoned out their skeletons. The undead creatures screeched and rushed out. They were meant to slow down the chariots and the mounted troops, even if only by a little.

"Archers, fire! Siege weapon battalion, aim for the Golems!"

The Aslan army roared out loudly.

Bows and crossbows were set up behind the pike wall.

Not just various arrows and crossbow bolts, but even the prepared catapults fired their cargo at the targets.

Ballistas fired their huge missiles as well.

-Ku-oooooh!

A huge boulder destroyed a holy chariot and crushed the cavalry soldiers. Ballista bolts and other projectiles pierced right through the mounted troops. However, other cavalry and chariot riders turned and changed their heading at the last second to barely dodge the incoming attacks.

Their eyes glowed brightly.

The skeletons summoned by the Necromancers were spread out like a wall of annoying hindrance.

The holy undead horses neighed in irritation. The mounted troops leaned further forward and pointed with their lances.

These skeletons belonging to the Necromancers weren't good enough to serve as momentary hindrances.

The holy undead simply crushed and trampled past the weak demonic enemy undead. The shattered and broken bone shards got kicked around by the galloping hooves.

Arrows and bolts from the Aslan army continued to fly in. The projectiles collided with the thick armour of the holy undead.

Sparks danced as the projectiles bounced away.

In the midst of the march, some bolts managed to strike the chariots' wheels, and arrows struck the skeleton horses in the gaps of the thick armour, causing the riders to crash to the ground.

However, none of that proved to be effective. The fallen skeletons rolled on the ground before simply jumping back up and running on their feet, instead.

Their numbers didn't decrease at all.

The ground rumbled noisily, and the chariots accompanied by the cavalry broke through the desert's sandy winds to reach the Aslan army.

Rather than slowing down, they had gotten even faster than before.

Truly imposing, like staring at an unstoppable giant tsunami wave!

That was the impression the soldiers manning the pike wall felt.

But that was obvious. The incoming army consisted of undead. Never mind not feeling any fear, they were a part of the undying legion that could not be killed. In other words, they were monsters that relentlessly marched forward while radiating out a sacred aura!

The pike-wielding soldiers came in pairs. The one at the back, the assistant, shouted out to the soldier in front aiming the pike.

"Resist against the incoming death!"

"For the glory of Aslan-!"

"Oh, ooooooh!"

The balaclavas covering their faces, meant to block out the winds of sand, couldn't hide their eyes opening wider.

Cries of both fear and determination came out from here and there.

While their bloodshot eyes barely managed to stay open against the winds, they gripped the lengthy spears with all they had despite their hands continuously trembling away.

They silently prayed inwardly that their long spears were enough to stop the incoming cavalry, because that would be the only way for them to survive this encounter!

By now, all of them had realised that retreating at this point would still result in their deaths. So, they roused up every bit of strength they could muster, supported their weight on their legs, and strengthened their back muscles.

And in that moment when the chariots and cavalry got close, the Aslan soldiers squeezed their eyes shut.

CRUNCH!