Delphain

What would you sacrifice for power? Your wealth? Your name?
Lucien gave his legs, his body, and the favour of the gods… just to create the perfect build.

When a shut-in author dies with a legacy of unfinished stories and angry readers, he’s greeted by a system that offers him a second life — and a character creation screen straight out of his wildest RPG fantasies.

With 9,613 soul points and a heart full of ambition, he crafts the ultimate necromancer: a prodigy with infinite mana, perfect recall, and the power to command armies of the dead. But when he discovers the legendary trait Necroforge — the ability to create undead monstrosities from scratch — he realises he doesn’t have enough points.

So he pays the price.

Crippled. Cursed. Rejected by healing, hated by light itself… Lucien is reborn in a ruined world as a paralysed infant of a noble necromancer bloodline.

Raised by a Lich in the shadows of history, Lucien Vaelthorn will rise to reclaim his family name, forge an empire of the dead, and remind the world that monsters are not born…

They are made.

Wielder of the Necroforge

Darkness surged—not emptiness, but a tangible, writhing force. Like smoke with weight, it devoured the bones and heart with hungry precision. The altar trembled as the fused materials twisted and reformed, shaped by Lucien's will and the system's laws.

A shape emerged from the black. Tall and hunched. Its skeletal form fused human and wolf elements—gnarled bones, elongated limbs, a twisted spine. The ribcage expanded with each eerie breath, hollow yet unnervingly animate. The creature let out a low, rumbling snarl that echoed across the chamber.

> [Unit Created: Unstable Wolf-Man Chimera – Tier III]

> Traits: Unstable Energy (Death/Divine Mix. Stats reduced by 75%) , Regeneration, Sharp Claws, Sharp Teeth, Agile

> Duration: Indefinite (until death)

> [Soul Points Gained: +30 – Tier III Construct Created]

> [Achievement Unlocked: Under Pressure – A creation that can stand in the presence of a world-ending entity. +1000 Soul Points]

> [Achievement Unlocked: Mad Scientist – Created a construct using materials from multiple species. +50 Soul Points]

> [Achievement Unlocked: It Worked? – Successfully fused opposing divine and necrotic energies in a stable construct. +500 Soul Points]

Lucien blinked. It was standing. Stable. Not crumbling.

For the first time, a creation had held against the weight of Alazaar's overwhelming aura.

A grin spread across his face. "You're mine."

Behind him, Alazaar finally spoke. "Fascinating..."

He circled the chimera with the silent grace of a predator, observing every detail — the bony joints, the flickering eyes, the subtle aura that pulsed between decay and divinity.

"It's still not perfect," he said, tone clinical. "Unstable. That heart pulses with conflict. And yet..." He trailed a bony finger across the air near the creature's chest, sensing its energy. "You managed it. A fusion of divine and necrotic essence... I hypothesized the theory, but I didn't expect it to actually hold."

He turned to Lucien, a hint of genuine excitement in his voice — a rare tremor for the arch-lich.

"This is no mere construct. It's a precedent."

Without another word, Alazaar turned abruptly and began to stride away, robes whispering against the stone.

"Follow me," he said, the urgency in his voice leaving no room for questions.

Lucien hesitated, but then wheeled himself forward, guiding the construct with a silent command. Alazaar glanced back just once and lifted his hand — a wave of levitation magic wrapped around Lucien's wheelchair, lifting him effortlessly.

They rose to the top of the catacomb stairs and passed through the towering doors that groaned open. For the first time, Lucien felt fresh air. Moonlight poured down from a bruised sky.

They emerged into a graveyard. Vast. Cramped. Headstones stretched in all directions, and wandering aimlessly between them were undead. Zombies. Ghouls. Skeletons. None of them noticed the newcomers. They had no minds. No goals. Just movement.

Lucien stared. It looked like a low-level questing zone.

Alazaar walked forward. Lucien followed. His construct lumbered beside him, claws clicking on the stone.

Any undead that wandered too close crumbled. Step by step, Alazaar's presence disintegrated them, like dust scattering from a gust.

Lucien used [Inspect]. The fallen undead were level 25 — and even they couldn't withstand Alazaar's aura.

He turned to his own creation. Still standing. Unshaken.

A grin tugged at his lips. For something so low-level, the chimera had already surpassed expectations.

The First True Creation