There’s no dream or fantasy in the life of the heir of a baron.
A rural territory on the outskirts where whether the central city was aware of its existence was doubtable.
The windmills were spinning strongly under the clear sky without a single cloud, and cows and goats were grazing in the broad pasture.
Thud.
Thud.
On the other side of the forest, the village men were logging.
A burst of laughter could be heard.
Maybe the humorous Robert made another joke again.
Every day in this small territory was a peaceful, slow life.
Nonetheless, Simon was quite content with his life here.
“Simon, what do you think is the most important virtue that a lord should possess?”
While thinking about something else for a moment, Simon’s father, Richard, who was walking side by side with him, asked a question.
Bewildered by the sudden question, Simon quickly racked his brain.
“Mm…… Is it sympathy?”
Richard chuckled.
“Not a bad answer.”
“Then what’s a good answer?”
Richard slowly raised his arm and placed his hand on his chest.
“It’s a warm heart.”
Simon blinked at the unexpected answer.
“……What?”
“Just like how leaves change their clothes in each season, the virtues required for a lord also change depending on the situation.”
Richard smiled, stroking Simon’s head gently.
“A lord should be able to be a friend, a parent, or even a villain.
However, the lord who treats people with a warm heart gains the power to convey their feelings to people in any situation.
That’s the bond of the relationship between master and servant.”
“Sir!”
Richard and Simon turned their heads.
Several adults were carrying large logs on their shoulders, and judging by their expressions, it seemed pretty heavy.
“Sorry for disturbing your walk! If it’s alright with you, I’ll count on you for ‘that’, please!”
“Gladly, Charles.”
Simon looked at his father with a slightly nervous expression on his face.
Richard Polentia was an ordinary countryside lord, but there was one special thing about him.
“Step back, Simon.”
With closed eyes, Richard quickly and quietly recited a few spells and spread his palms.
A pool of light floated up into the sky and transformed into a magic circle.
Simon looked around, on guard.
The magic circle started to activate, and the trees and bushes around started shaking.
‘Here it comes!’
The ground trembled, turning into a black swamp, and the arms that rose from it trembled, as if longing for the sun.
Their arms were made of pure white bones, and were without a single piece of flesh.
Undead.
Monsters with unconditional aggression towards the living.
However, the complete opposite of that common sense was happening in this territory.
Rattle.
Rattle.
The skeletons that stood up on the floor ran and started to help up the logs that people were carrying.
“Thank you, sir!”
Even the villagers.
Rather than being afraid of the skeletons, they smiled broadly with expressions that said, ‘That’s a relief!’.
“Keep up the good work.”
That’s right.
Simon’s father was a necromancer.
* * *
Necromancers had ruled half of the world for a long time.
It started with the Talheren empire.
When the Emperor of Talheren sent 50 thousand troops to the Necromancer’s stronghold, ‘Kizen’, to avoid their influence, only 10 necromancers were dispatched from Kizen.
Just 10.
And here, a historical event called the ‘Rose Retreat’ took place.
The 50 thousand troops headed for Kizen turned tail and returned to the Empire’s capital.
After everyone had become undead, the capital of the Talheren was destroyed and the emperor surrendered to Kizen.
Afterwards, the Throne of the Talheren was occupied by a rotten, decayed corpse which ‘used to be an emperor’.
The Empire’s civil and military servants bowed their heads to the chunk of a corpse, and tens of millions of imperial citizens were played around by a puppet show of a rotten corpse for 30 years.
A short history of the Necromancer’s power and terror.
Necromancers, who, in time, emerged as mainstream and gradually expanded their power.
Now, they exercised their influence over half of the continent, and the other half was occupied by the ‘Priests’, their only antipode.
Now, after the decades had passed since the 100-year war between those two factions who went face to face, the continent enjoyed a somewhat precarious peace.
‘……But I guess that has nothing to do with our territory.’
Simon felt like this war history belonged to a country from a far-away place.
The most significant recent events in ‘Les Hill’, the territory he’d rule one day, was the cow of Charles’ place, that hardly had any news, gave birth to two young and healthy calves, and Carlon having three stitches on his forehead due to slipping while swabbing the floor.
Simon arrived at the Lord’s Castle with a silly smile.
Ah.
The villagers insist on calling it the Lord’s Castle, but in fact, it was just an ordinary treehouse.
Compared to the poor lords with a small castle for their dignity, Richard, the Lord of Les Hill, was a simple man.
Creak.
“Mom, I’m home.”
As soon as he
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