Chapter 106: The Necromancer

"Stop hitting him like that—it's not gonna kill him!"

"Hurry up! There are dozens of us waiting, and every minute you waste is dozens of minutes of ours down the drain!"

"Come on, wrap it up already."

When Ash and the others stepped into the Dueling Club, they weren't greeted by adrenaline-fueled screams, animalistic roars, or malicious jeering. Instead, they were met with the annoyed complaints of the crowd.

If not for the implant restrictions keeping the death row inmates' language in check, Ash was certain he'd have learned every profanity in the Blood Moon Kingdom's myriad languages by now.

As they pushed forward through the throng, the prisoners closest to the front turned to grumble—until they saw who was coming. Recognizing the infamous "Demon," "Beautiful Beast," and "Gourmet," they quickly stepped aside, some even offering ingratiating smiles.

Though prisoners in Lakebreak couldn't physically harm one another outside the dueling arena—not even to pull a single hair or scratch someone's freshly polished nails—respect for strength was instinctual.

In this lawless environment, where morality was as thin as tissue paper, the instinct to fawn over power was practically a survival trait. Even if Ash and his crew couldn't harm them directly, the inmates weren't about to risk offending some of the prison's most dangerous names.

Ash mentally crossed off the submissive ones. Too scared of me? Useless as bait. Disqualified.

At the front of the crowd, Ash spotted two fighters in the arena: one was a dark green Snake-Lizard hybrid, and the other was Harvey, one of Ash's few acquaintances in the prison. He couldn't recall Harvey's full name—just that his surname was memorable.

A quick glance told Ash why the crowd was complaining. Harvey was throwing a rigged fight.

The Snake-Lizard wasn't fighting back, letting Harvey pound his face repeatedly. Even as the tough scales of his skin cracked and blood oozed from his teeth, the lizard hybrid stayed kneeling, his gaze calm and unyielding.

Eventually, Harvey's fists were covered in blood. The Snake-Lizard finally spoke, his tone serene. "Archibald, feeling better yet?"

"Not even close!"

Harvey suddenly fell to his knees, tearing open his shirt to reveal his scarred and emaciated chest. His expression twisted with pain and rage. "Your turn, Harperon. Do it!"

The Snake-Lizard sighed, reluctantly picking up a thorned whip from the edge of the arena. Even a brief glance made Ash's skin crawl. The whip's surface was covered in barbs, sharp enough to tear flesh with ease. Ash could only imagine the agony it could inflict.

Crack!

Crack!

The dull sound of the whip striking flesh silenced most of the complaints in the crowd. Though some jeered at Harvey for being insane, many others simply fell silent, their respect conveyed through the hush.

In Lakebreak, there were two ways to earn admiration: be ruthless to others or merciless to yourself.

Ash leaned over to Igula. "What do you think?"

"Promising," Igula admitted. "I'll dig into his backstory later. There might be something useful there."

"Archibald Harvey's dueling record is seven wins and one loss," Longard added. "His scrawny appearance sometimes makes him a target, but anyone who fights him ends up unconscious before they realize what happened. He's not weak."

"This is the kind of fiery spirit we need! Just watching him makes me want to fight!" Ronald clenched his fists with excitement. "Let's recruit him after the match!"

"Not so fast." Igula shook his head. "We've got time to scout other candidates. Even if we decide on him, I'll need to find leverage first. It's easier to manipulate someone when you have dirt on them."

Ronald smirked. "Man, your heart's as dirty as a sewer."

"Got a problem with that?"

"Yeah. Look at that Snake-Lizard. He seems close to Harvey. If we can't find any weaknesses on Harvey, we might be able to use him instead. He's a recent arrival—probably hasn't forgotten the taste of freedom yet."

Igula nodded approvingly. "Rare to hear something useful out of you, Ash."

"Just learning from the best."

Their shared grin of mischief made Longard uneasy. Though he kept his expression neutral, inwardly, he was stunned.

He'd observed Igula for a while and knew him to be a cold, self-serving manipulator. The man wore a polite smile like armor, treating everyone as tools to be exploited.

Yet something about his dynamic with Ash was… different.

Igula's interactions with Ash lacked the calculated charm he used on others or the open disdain he reserved for rivals. With Ash, Igula seemed almost… genuine.

That word felt absurd when applied to Igula. But in Ash's presence, Igula dropped his mask, allowing his irritation and occasional respect to show. He argued and conversed with Ash as if they were equals, a stark contrast to his usual behavior.

It wasn't friendship. Longard was sure of that—both men would laugh at the idea.

But still, this level of authenticity from someone like Igula felt strange.

Longard didn't believe it was Ash's personality that had influenced Igula. Mind-path specialists like Igula weren't swayed so easily. Their beliefs and mental fortitude were far more entrenched than other mages'.

In the mage's world, there were no coincidences. Only miracles.

And if Ash was at the center of this miraculous change…

Longard's gaze darkened with certainty: this escape plan would succeed.

The arena lights flared on, the protective barriers lowered, and the small gates opened. The Raven Medics entered to carry off the combatants. While they easily hauled away the unconscious Snake-Lizard, Harvey refused their aid, limping out of the arena under his own power, his blood-soaked clothes clinging to his frame.

As the crowd parted respectfully for him, Ash's group stayed back, waiting for Igula to gather more intel.

But Harvey didn't wait. He walked straight toward Ash.

"I was looking for you," Harvey said, his voice hoarse. "I need to discuss something with you."

"No money," Ash replied reflexively.

"Too crowded here. Let's move somewhere private." Harvey reached out to grab Ash's arm.

Igula intercepted, gripping Harvey's wrist with a polite smile. "Sounds interesting. Mind if we listen in?"

Harvey hesitated, scanning Igula, Longard, and Ronald before nodding. "Sure."

The five of them slipped into the nearest private space—a men's restroom. Despite the odd setting, the restroom was clean, scented, and equipped with running water to muffle their conversation. It was perfect for scheming.

"I hear you've been planning an escape," Harvey said, rinsing the blood from his hands as he stared at Ash through the mirror.

"Yes," Igula replied bluntly. There was no point denying it. By now, most inmates knew about his so-called "escape research society."

"I want in." Harvey dunked his head under the faucet, soaking his curly hair. When he straightened up, his wet hair clung to his head, making his features look sharper, almost handsome. "I want out of this place."

Ash was elated, but Igula immediately countered, "If you want to join, prove your worth. We don't need dead weight. What can you offer us?"

"Actually, he doesn't need to—"

"Shut up." Igula glared at Ash, who shrank back, sulking.

Harvey chuckled, unbothered. "Fair enough. I believe I can convince you." He turned to face them, his wet hair framing his determined gaze. "I can operate the prison's processors."

"That's… promising. Wait, what?" Igula's confident facade cracked. "The chip processors? You can operate them? That's impossible!"

"Why not?" Harvey replied, his eyes glinting. "If anyone in this prison could manipulate the processors, it'd be me. After all…"

He stepped closer, his voice cold and sharp as steel.

"I'm a necromancer.

"And those processors? They're corpses."