Sagely

"W-what will… h- happen t- to us?"

Unlike me or the Matron, Zaraxus cared not about the human- the only human to gain enough courage to exit their home- in the slightest. There was no emotion to his words, nor did the undead even look at him. Yet, his voice boomed with enough power to reach every pair of ears in the city, no matter how deafened their ears were by the earlier explosion.

"You have three choices. One: Pick up your arms and die. Two: Gather your belongings and leave. Three: Remain in this Necropolis and thrive. I care not what you do. But within my domain, you will be protected.

"And when you die." The perpetually scowling undead pointed to his kin, already putting their unlimited stamina to use by rebuilding the city into a better version of what it was before.

---

<> Matron Etyl asked with genuine interest nearly an hour after Zaraxus' short address. But Amun kept tinkering with his undead as he had been doing since he ripped the Death Jarl's lair from the ground and relocated it and us to the floating rock- to the deathworld above.

It was an unsettling place that birthed an unsettling feeling. An icy sphere, populated only by neglected winds that howled in protest of their perpetual migration across snowy mountains and corpse-filled valleys. It felt like a great beast appeared if only to devour any semblances of society away before they left the corpses to a food chain that never existed.

I felt like an… angel or some such as I landed on that world at Amun's side. Like I was his agent, reporting in on a lost territory and lost members, but there was eagerness burning in my heart as he rang some type of necrotic bell, populating the world with tens of thousands of zombies and surprisingly few shadows in an instant.

Many of them were the martial undead raised by his Ki. The only ones, other than the shadows, to follow us. The others began doing what the living often dedicated themselves to, only infinitely better. They dove into construction, mining, refining, and many other crafts with the fervor of an imbecile, throwing every ounce of energy at the simplest of tasks.

It was hard, splitting my already split attention between what was ahead and what was passing us, magnificent machines that could bore through mountains in minutes, crystals that howled with the anguish of a thousand souls, buildings and outposts with strangely organic designs.

I was unsure of what, exactly, I was seeing, but I sensed this place- the world itself- was somehow becoming… something. Something that would be controlled from here, the summit of what Amun called the 'north pole.'

<> Came the absent-minded reply. But a reply that told the Matron all she needed to know all the same.

His skin was currently… off, allowing the hinges of his ribs to swing wide enough for Amun to sink both arms into the chest cavity and install enchantment after enchantment into the creature. And he was not the only one.

Other undead were teleported to and from the place at a dizzying pace. Most of them duergar, but several metal-armored skeletons and zombies of electricity and poison and other elemental types as well.

They all received the same treatment Zaraxus was currently getting, wherein enchantments were carved and inlaid into his mouth, hands, pelvis, and chest before they were sent elsewhere.

<>

Amun paused to gesture to the large spherical crystal resting on a pedestal. <>

<> Matron Etyl echoed, looking around the empty space around us. But Amun simply pulled himself from the ribcage and reached out to place his right thumb on Zaraxus' brow, his other four fingers splayed across his jaw while his left hand mirrored the placement, putting his thumb on the naval and the fingers splayed across the chest.

A practiced breath pulled that vile, unholy darkness from Amun's core, forcing Matron Etyl and I back a step before the wickedness surged into the undead and forced us back once more. And then a third time once the scream of ecstasy reverberated through the cavern.

The fiendish energy poured his bones as if uncountable pores littered its surface, secreting an ooze that seemed to solidify upon making contact with the air. Wherein it morphed into nerves and sinew and ligaments and absurdly dense muscle of solid darkness that exuded a golden ichor, bringing multiple changes to the undead being.

A long and slender appendage emerged from his tailbone. Long, serrated claws grew from the fingers and quickly reshaped into fleshy digits. Teeth sharpened into rows of jagged shards. White-marked horns sprouted from above his brow, curling back around his head like that of a ram. But no skin seemed to grow from the foul energy.

Not until Amun released his hands to produce his divine glow.

The crown, I realized, was like a catalyst for this power. With a single flick, an absurd amount of the painless silver-blue light flowed into Zaraxus from the head down, causing him to scream bloody murder as his old skin crackled into existence over his new flesh like ice-cold water on magma.

When the eternal moment was over for the creature, he quickly stood to bear his unrecognizable form to us all.

No longer was he a pale and emaciated being who radiated a deathly cold. His skin was now full, smooth, and only a bit pale. Healthily so. His body radiated strength, almost like that of a vampire with horns. But with silvery-blue eyes that looked out at the realms much differently than they did mere moments ago.

No malice. Only… indifference, perhaps. And, without a doubt, unbridled intelligence.

<>

I turned to Matron Etyl, knowing she would test the claim. And her backpedal told me the claim was true, though I needed her not to verify. I could feel… nothing, coming from Zaraxus, other than power of course. But no hostility, malice, or even a threatening aura; despite the glare he occasionally threw at us.

But still, Amun was not done.

<

More bursts of light. A deep blue. The black and gold again. The blue-green of his arcana; and necromancy. All painless energies to stare into. All, evidently, domains of Amun's divinity that sent me spiraling into an internal debate while my eyes remained glued to the undead.

There were hardly any changes to be seen on the outside. Only archaic, angular veins of divine blue light grew over his hands, running up his arms to his neck and face to stop around his temples, where they formed neat circles. That, and a great set of black wings, reminiscent of an owl's.

On the other hand, the inside revealed something that would have been impossible to believe, had I not stared at it for minutes. A heart of arcana. Resting beside the black heart formed from Amun's wickedness. Pulsing each time its partner went to rest. Pumping, not ichor into veins and arteries, but energy through a circuit that was instantly recognizable to my eyes.

<> Amun explained with more satisfaction than pride.

I found myself stepping forward, ignoring Matron Etyl's ire in light of this mind-breaking discovery. <> I found myself asking, and ignoring the Matron's ire.

<> He gestured to the wings. <>

Almost eagerly, Amun conjured an ornate knife and stabbed himself in the gut, draining the exuberance- and life- from his face in an instant and in turn, igniting the blue-green flames of his necrotic ki. Then, upon clasping his hands together, he replaced his hands on Zaraxus' face and chest.

In hindsight, I could never come to understand why the sight of meditating undead was declared insignificant to my brain. I saw them. For hours, I looked upon them. I even made mental comments about their behavior, thinking it was only a quirk of Amun's way. But when I saw that blue-green fire flowing seamlessly into Zaraxus' 'mana heart' and being pumped through the circuit, I nearly lost my standing.

'Is this possible?' Matron Etyl signed. But I wanted to shout. Of course, it would work. The fact I never realized the signs hidden below my nose bothered me to no end. But shouting was the last thing I could do.

'Even under normal circumstances,' I began flicking my fingers, 'Ki can easily be imbued into another. It is only a matter of the recipient's ability to contain it without injury. That is why building the circuit, or the 'path,' is necessary.

'Without it, the effect is no different from suffering a Stunning Strike. But… Zaraxus is undead. So, necrotic ki would only empower him with no risk of injury, even without the path. So, yes, Matron, it is possible for him to contain it. But not gather it in the way we can.'

Regardless, Amun's Ki Ponds had yet to be opened, thus the effect was hardly enough to make any significant changes to Zaraxus. At least until the army of recently risen martial undead poured their ki into him.

They arrived sprinting and fell in shambles by the dozens, eventually creating an impassable mound for the hundreds of their kin behind them to dismantle or be flung into a pit of darkness until the last wave came and went.

When Zaraxus stood, he seemed no different from the fiendishly celestial form I saw earlier; other than the heart of arcana, serving as a crude well to pump the necrotic Ki throughout his body. With that, paired with the divine and wicked and arcane energies he just received, it was hard to even view him as an undead.

<> Amun grinned in the way only maniacal artificers did.

<> He gestured around us.<

<>

With the poise and grace of a divine avatar, Zaraxus swept his great wings, taking to the skies below his deathworld to look down on his land of the living. And with a voice as calm as the serene seas, he addressed his dominion for the first, and second time.

"Remain in my domain and you shall thrive, not simply survive. You shall want for not. You shall live free and do what only the living can do. Trade. Produce. Learn, grow, live. Age your souls until your time comes and seek to join us when it has passed.

"In exchange, we shall do what only the dead can do: work tirelessly to protect and maintain the Legio Noctis, Eotrom, and her allies. Remain! Or stay! We shall not keep you!"