New Maid (1)
"How did you carry them on your shoulders?" Aaran asked. "Didn't you phase through them?"
It wasn't surprising Darius could lift six corpses on his shoulder, but how he did it.
"How do you think spirits interact with the mortal world?" Darius replied, crossing his arms. "That matters little now. Tell me, why did these assassins attack the castle?"
Dread shrugged while Aaran kneeled beside an assassin, lifting one's shirt. As expected, Aaran saw a tattoo engraved on his waist. Darius leaned in, taken aback by the tattoo.
"What did you do to offend the temple, my forgetful liege?" he asked.
Temple's assassins.
Aaran had met them in his earlier incarnations. He suddenly remembered something that happened during his first life as Aaran.
Temple assassins had attacked him when he was twelve, almost killing him. Amara had saved him back then. She might have even played a role in the temple's downfall shortly after, though Aaran could never quite piece it together.
That had been the only time he crossed paths with temple assassins. Afterwards, all his incarnations were during his late teens or adulthood and he eventually forgot about them.
His gaze drifted back to the corpses.
They weren't elites since they only had two stars engraved for the tattoos, which meant they were beginners. Still, it was concerning the temple was sending assassins to hunt him.
But why?
"Did they figure out your secret?" Dread mumbled.
While possible, Aaran immediately shook his head. He hadn't been a necromancer in his first life, and they'd attacked him, regardless.
He couldn't explain everything to the others, but he was sure the temple's reason for assassinating him had nothing to do with him being a necromancer.
But it wasn't the time to dwell on things.
They didn't know when the servants or the guards would wake up. First, they must get rid of the corpses.
It would cause unnecessary panic if the servants saw the assassins. Things were tense as it is, and Aaran didn't want to pour gasoline on it.
"Bury them somewhere safe," Aaran instructed. "I'll show them to father later."
The suggestion of burying the corpses almost offended Darius. As a necromancer, the dead were precious resources. While the assassins weren't anything special, they could still serve well, with some training.
Aaran didn't need to read his mind to know what he was thinking, and before Darius could speak, he cut him off.
"I don't plan on wasting my mana," Aaran said. "Besides, the temple might find out what I did and come after the kingdom. You think we can handle an all-out battle on three fronts?"
Darius nodded. He forgot Aurelia wasn't the kingdom that fought two empires at once. That kingdom had died soon after him. As a drastic overstatement, one could say Aurelia wasn't a kingdom, but a fief working for the empire.
The thought made Darius's nonexistent blood boil. But Aaran's next words somewhat calmed him.
"Don't worry… I will take the empire down. I promised my life on it, after all."
Darius stared at the kid before him and smiled. Then, without saying a word, he whisked the corpses back on his shoulder.
"Fetch the rest of the bodies, furball," he said.
"…can I kill him?" Dread asked.
Aaran looked at him, shaking his head. Managing subordinates, whether living or dead, was troublesome.
[Bought a***
A few hours later.
"…you caused an avalanche?" Aaran asked, rubbing his temples.
Darius nodded, drifting around the room.
It was a bit unhinged action, but given the situation, it was a wise move. If the barbarians could hurt his mother, then there was no saying how strong they were.
Thankfully, Darius buried them deep in those snowy mountains.
Meanwhile, the servants and soldiers woke up from their slumber. The next moment, Aaran heard their thunderous footsteps as they rushed towards his room.
Naturally, they worried about him because they didn't know how long they had been unconscious.
However, when they entered the room, Aaran was peacefully asleep. Only after checking on him did they feel at rest.
But it didn't last long.
Amara returned sooner than expected, through a teleportation circle, and when she heard what happened, all hell broke loose.
Her clothes were torn in places, with blood stained bandage on her shoulder, but she ignored her injuries. She wanted to check on Aaran first and foremost.
No one dared to stand in her way as she rushed to Aaran's room.
"Lady Amara, please—your injuries!"
The servant called out, but Amara silenced her with a glare that could freeze fire. Only when she saw Aaran unharmed did her fury fade.
Without a word, she lifted him in her arms, cradling him against her chest. Her hand gently brushed through his hair as she held him close as if shielding him from harm.
"She might not be an exceptional warrior, but she is an excellent mother," Darius said, drifting above.
Aaran didn't refute the claim, but she was being too forceful. But then he noticed someone else standing next to the door.
The shackled woman had silver hair and deep blue eyes. Aaran had met her in all his incarnations and he didn't want to recall any of them.
After all, she had killed him seven times, severed his limbs thrice and almost introduced him to the Amazon position once.
What is the Silver Wolf doing here!?