Certified Necromancer!

Really,

As she scoured the vegetable and corn fields in search of voles and mice, the evil dragon had already made an attempt to summon the captivating sister from the portrait.

"Why does he dwell on her so? Could he be longing for her presence?" she pondered.

Indeed, the dragon was quite serious about his dark arts. "I've been pondering why his attempts to summon that beautiful sister from the depths of hell haven't succeeded yet," she mused, her voice tinged with frustration.

One could only imagine the chaos if she were actually summoned. What if the dragon disclosed to her that it was this young dragon who had inspired him? If she became a vengeful spirit, might she haunt her tormentor, cursing her nights with endless nightmares?

The very thought sent shivers down her spine.

It would be a different matter entirely if he summoned her simply for companionship, to exchange whispers of the past and share moments of intimacy.

But no, his intentions were far more practical. "Lance, what brings her to your mind so urgently? Do you miss her?" she asked, her curiosity piqued.

He scoffed at the sentimentality. "Miss her? Hardly. She owes me a debt, and I sought to summon her to settle her dues. Despite my efforts with necromancy, she remains unresponsive. It's quite vexing. Could she have been reincarnated? No, that can't be it; the undead from hell don't just reincarnate."

He paused, lost in thought. "And if it's not reincarnation, could there be a flaw in my necromancy? Unlikely, for if I fail, what chance do the mortal necromancers stand?"

His fixation was clear, it was purely about collecting debts.

"You're laboring hard just to reclaim a debt," she noted, slightly amused yet bewildered. "Most dragons would pine for lost love, dreaming of what could have been. Yet here you are, turning love into a ledger entry. Isn't she worth more than those cold, hard coins?"

"Perhaps you should abandon this summoning," she suggested gently. "If she does return and cannot repay, it might only sour what memories you have of her."

"If she's so insignificant and I manage to summon her, I'll have a hearty laugh," he boasted with a sneer. "After languishing in the underworld for over two millennia, she hasn't even managed to secure a mere official position. She remains a pauper! Who is she to mock, when even after a thousand years, one would expect some semblance of achievement?"

In his recollections, Sophia was a vibrant and ambitious mage, brimming with a zest for life, a trait she carried both in the living world and presumably into the afterlife. "If she's been in hell for over two thousand years, how has she not ascended to at least a team leader, or better yet, the position of Chief Mage?" he pondered with genuine curiosity. After all, she was once his confidant. "If she lacks even this basic capability, does she truly deserve the title of [Evil Dragon's Friend]?"

He recalled how Sophia never knew his true nature as a black dragon before her untimely demise. "I had planned to reveal my secret to her quietly in her twilight years, but fate had other plans, and she departed too soon," he lamented quietly, a rare hint of remorse in his voice.

Now, his primary concern was summoning Sophia through necromancy, yet there was no sign of her spirit. "It's peculiar indeed. Knowing her name, age, and visage, it should have been straightforward to summon her," he mused, frustration mounting with each failed attempt. Despite his efforts, calling her soul forth from hell had been met with silence, not once, but multiple times.

"If I were an uncertified necromancer, one who hadn't signed the 'Regulations on Summoning the Undead Contract' with hell, my failure would make sense," he reasoned, considering his credentials. He was no amateur; he had passed hell's rigorous assessment and was a certified necromancer, entitled to summon the undead at will.

"There are two kinds of necromancers: those like me, who have cleared hell's assessments and hold the right to summon, and the rogue necromancers who operate without certification," he explained, differentiating himself from the latter who risked persecution by hell for unauthorized summons.

"A certified necromancer should be able to command the undead from hell with ease, using them as allies in battle," he affirmed confidently. "Whereas these wild necromancers, although they too can summon, risk becoming outlaws, hunted with bounties on their heads should hell discover their actions."

The enigma of Sophia's unresponsiveness loomed large, challenging his understanding of the dark arts and stirring a blend of concern and curiosity about what might truly befall a soul in the depths of the infernal realms.

"If a rogue necromancer forces the undead from hell into battle and they perish, hell exacts a severe penalty," he explained with a hint of foreboding. "The necromancer is transformed into an undead warrior, doomed to serve hell's armies for a century."

Conversely, he continued, "Certified necromancers like myself are under hell's protection. Should any summoned undead fall in battle, hell doesn't blame us. Instead, they endeavor to resurrect these souls. It's rather astounding, isn't it? To think that beings who have already died once might be resurrected again. It just goes to show the formidable powers at hell's disposal, it's enough to unsettle even dragons."

He went on to detail the obligations of a contracted necromancer. "We aren't just signing up for unlimited powers; we pay a yearly tribute to hell, be it in gold coins or various other materials. Moreover, hell occasionally assigns quests to us. These aren't optional; they demand our unconditional assistance."

He smirked slightly as he mentioned the intermediaries of these contracts. "The overseers of our contracts are known as [Gods of Death]. There are two kinds: one directly from hell, and then there are [Apprentice Gods of Death], necromancers whom hell has elevated due to their prowess. These apprentices, unlike us, are compensated for their services."

Lance paused, reflecting on his own journey. "Initially, I signed the standard necromancer contract, but the annual payments and odd jobs for hell felt like a bad deal. To offset costs and potentially earn something, I applied to become an [Apprentice God of Death]. With my natural dragon charm and strength, I was swiftly approved."

However, he revealed a curious twist. "As an [Apprentice], I haven't received my wages in ages because I took a leave of absence. It appears hell has lost track of me. [Apprentice Gods of Death] usually serve for a couple of centuries, but I've been around for over a millennium. They seem hesitant to contact me, likely fearing they'll owe me a backlog of payments."

He chuckled, "Just twenty gold coins a month, it's not much, but it certainly doesn't cover eternal life."

With a more somber tone, he added, "My recent attempts to summon Sophia might have reminded hell of my long-forgotten duty as an [Apprentice God of Death]."

He then turned, a thoughtful look crossing his face as he mused aloud, "Lance, could it be that Sophia isn't in hell at all?"