Death King Karnak

I was the one who controlled death.

It took me 100 years to realize.

To live like a human being, one should not dominate such things.

***

It was a grand and magnificent palace.

Endless rows of golden pillars, a marble hall spread out below them, elegant paintings and decorations on every wall, and intricately crafted statues.

Yet, there were no people who should have been here.

No king, no queen, no prince, no princess, not even a single servant or attendant.

Or rather, to be precise, there was a king. There were servants and attendants too.

It's just that they were not human.

A large golden throne illuminated by the faint moonlight.

On it sat a skeleton draped in a black robe, muttering to itself.

"Why did I do that…?"

With a deep sigh.

"Ah, why the hell did I do that…?"

Sighing again, he slouched his shoulders and gave a hollow smile.

A smile that was not human, but that of a skeleton.

"No, it's not that I don't know why I did it. It was inevitable."

Though there was no one to hear, the skeleton, the Death King Karnak, continued to speak to himself and stared blankly at his own hand.

"Ugh…"

A blue aura gathered around the thin bones, forming a human-like hand.

A hand imbued with the power to split the sea and shake the sky with a single swing.

The human form began to emerge from the skull as well.

A pale, blue human face sighed.

"Has it already been 70 years since I became like this? Wow, time really flies."

Leaning against the throne, the Death King Karnak maintained a hollow smile.

"Though it sometimes feels like it's crawling by."

***

Karnak first encountered the forbidden art of necromancy about 100 years ago.

Born as the illegitimate child of a fallen noble family and raised in contempt, he reached out to the forbidden arts to survive, and fortune—or misfortune—granted him power.

In exchange, he departed from the path of humanity.

He fought against endlessly advancing enemies, sometimes striking first, killing and killing the innocent, living the life of a malevolent necromancer.

The world hated him even more for becoming like a demon.

The Central Lacaenia Empire, the Western Seven Kingdoms Alliance, the Eastern Verus Federation, and even the churches that served the Great Seven Goddesses.

The entire continent was his enemy.

Even while facing the whole world, Karnak did not retreat.

Using the immense power of death, he turned his attacking enemies into undead, expanding his power even further.

The war continued to grow.

The living hell of the dead walking the world of the living spread across the continent.

Soon, he became known as the Death King, an absolute evil that humanity could not tolerate.

Finally, even the last bastion of humanity fell.

The greatest warriors of mankind, the Four Martial King, and the three Archmages whose power reached the heavens were defeated and became subjects of the Death King.

Eventually, even the world's guardian, the Dragon Emperor Grateria, made an appearance.

Indeed, the Dragon Emperor was powerful.

So powerful that even Karnak, who had committed every taboo, found no answer.

It was only natural.

What could a mere human, who had relied only on underhanded means, do against the most powerful of the dragon, Dragon Emperor?

Reluctantly, he resorted to the worst forbidden arts he had been postponing until the end.

He transformed himself into the ultimate transcendent being, 'Astra Spiritus,' surpassing even the greatest undead like Death Knight and Arch Lich.

Thus, Karnak had completely forsaken his humanity.

With what he lost, the price was high.

After three days of battle, Grateria lost his status as the Dragon Emperor and became the Lich Dragon Grateria, a loyal slave to the Death King.

Karnak, who had nothing special about him except for being from a low-ranking noble family.

A mere human, without the bloodline of a hero or the power of a god, had defeated special heroes and divine powers and risen to the top position.

The world became entirely his.

"Yeah, it's all good. It's a happy ending. Everything's great, but…"

Gazing once again at his own hand, Karnak let out a deep sigh.

"What can I do with this body of bones?"

Gold, silver, beautiful women, musical instruments, every luxury and pleasure imaginable to humanity.

None of it means anything now.

All human sensations have vanished from this dead flesh.

"I want to feel…"

He wants to taste.

He wants to feel human warmth.

He wants to experience the gentle breeze and the warm sunlight.

No, he'd even prefer to feel pain.

Even the delicate skin that would be pierced by a blade and cause excruciating pain would be better than these dry, lifeless bones.

"…Eh, well, honestly, that's not quite right. No matter what, numbness is better than pain. What am I, a pampered noble whining about nonsense?"

Quickly changing his tune, Karnak chuckled.

Nevertheless, it's true that he misses the sensation.

It's funny; he didn't realize its value when he had it, but now that it's gone, it feels unbearably frustrating.

"There's a reason why others say not to do certain things. Everyone despises necromancy, calling it taboo and forbidden."

There's no joy in living.

There's no driving force to continue life.

And yet, the thought of suicide is equally unappealing.

"Death is still frightening."

He thought that becoming numb would make him lose his fear of death, but it wasn't quite like that.

He wants to enjoy life, not forget the pain of dying.

All that comes out are sighs.

"Is that the only thing I can rely on?"

Karnak glanced over his shoulder at the throne.

A tall, crimson monument stood there, pulsating with strange lights.

His eyes brightened.

"To think that if it succeeds…"

To be precise, it's not his eyes that brightened. His eyes had long since rotted away.

It's just that the eyes made of spiritual energy flashed through the hollow sockets of his skull.

"…there might be hope."

***

A long corridor shrouded in somber darkness, unlit by sunlight.

A towering knight, standing at 2 meters tall, walked down the hallway.

Though he might seem human at a glance, he was not.

His pale skin, covered in thick muscles, had no warmth. Breathing was unnecessary, and his eyes did not blink.

This was clear evidence that he was not alive.

The second-in-command of the Empire of the Dead, Necropia.

A warrior who defeated three of the four great martial kings and rose to become the commander-in-chief of the Death Corps.

The most trusted aide of the Death King, Karnak, even before Karnak had become a necromancer.

Death Knight Lord, Baros, suddenly turned to look behind him.

Another Death Knight, solid but comparatively lean, was following him.

Baros asked,

"Why did he suddenly call for me, Sir Laven?"

The Death Knight Laven responded politely,

"How would I know the deep intentions of the Lord, Sir Baros?"

Baros gave a wry smile.

"You always use similar lines. It was better when you were alive."

Laven Strauss, one of the four great martial kings and the pinnacle of all swordsmen in the past, bowed his head again with respect.

"Everything is as the Lord wills."

"Well, it can't be helped since you're not the same as before."

Baros continued walking, leaving Laven behind.

Finally, his steps reached the entrance of a vast hall.

Entering the hall and kneeling, Baros respectfully spoke,

"To the Lord of all the dead, the ruler of life and death, the conqueror of the continent, the great Death King Karnak…"

The skeleton on the throne waved his hand dismissively.

"Ah, enough of that."

"Huh? No need for formalities?"

Baros tilted his head in confusion.

Karnak, propping his chin, grumbled.

"What's the point of all the formalities? Is anyone going to look down on me if I don't follow them?"

Those with absolute power are often indifferent to etiquette.

Even if he has the power to instill manners on the spot, it's more convenient not to create such situations in the first place.

Nevertheless, Baros maintained formalities because even the undead of Necropia, who were loyal to Karnak, were still somewhat influenced by their past customs.

Even if he could enforce etiquette instantly, wouldn't it be easier not to create the need for it at all?

'Wait, does this mean you're saying I don't need to be formal anymore?'

This means there is no longer a need to rule over the undead.

"Oh, could it be?"

Baros used an old title he had used for Karnak since his human days.

"Did you succeed, young master?"

Karnak puffed out his chest with pride.

"Yes, it seems to have worked."

"Oh my."

Baros's gaze shifted to the back of the throne.

Looking at the large crimson monument, he asked with suspicion,

"Are you sure it's working properly? You've had failures all along."

***

From the beginning, Karnak hadn't been lamenting the loss of his humanity.

World domination, putting all things under his control.

The pleasure of being a ruler was immense.

The problem was that this pleasure didn't last long.

What's the point of having absolute power if you can't enjoy it?

That's why high-level undead like liches often develop extremely sadistic tendencies.

They derive vicarious satisfaction from abusing and torturing others, enjoying their pain.

Unfortunately, Karnak didn't have such sadistic inclinations.

"Someone else's pain is just that—someone else's pain. Why should it make me happy? I'm not some antisocial empathy-disordered person."

Baros interjected.

"Not at all? Considering what you've done so far…"

"Oh, I was just struggling to survive, and that's how it turned out."

"I'm sure those who've died at your hands would find that quite comforting."

"…Be quiet."

Anyway, for that reason, Karnak had tried various methods.

The first thing he attempted was possession.

Honestly, he didn't need to live as a human being all day long.

He just needed to feel sensations when needed, for as long as necessary, right?

So, he captured many living human slaves, tried to erase their souls, and take over their bodies.

"…And yet you're not an antisocial empathy-disordered person?"

"Be quiet, Baros."

Sadly, the attempt failed.

Karnak's spiritual energy, now as the ultimate transcendent being, Astra Spiritus, was too great.

Possession was out of the question; even just touching the soul's fingertips would shatter the physical body.

'Is temporarily occupying another's body truly impossible?'

So, this time, he aimed for reincarnation.

From the beginning, he gathered carefully selected infants to find a body most suitable for his soul and attempted to inhabit it.

The results were better than possession. At least he managed to get as far as one leg. Compared to just the fingertips, it was significant progress.

Of course, it was still a limit.

He tried many other methods.

Stealing others' sensations or finding various ways for an undead to pursue pleasure.

It was all useless.

Undead like wraiths, who absorb souls to experience pleasure, and vampires, who gain pleasure through sucking blood.

The commonality among these undead is that their pleasure comes with side effects. They have deficiencies that they try to fill in, gaining pleasure in the process.

For Karnak, now the ultimate transcendent being, Astra Spiritus, there was no such deficiency.

Without deficiencies, there was nothing to fill.

Without anything to fill, there was no pleasure.

He was in despair.

Did he have to continue living without dying?

There was no joy in living?

While he was wasting his time, a sudden thought occurred to him.

The reason he couldn't experience human pleasure was that he wasn't human.

The reason he wasn't human was that he had become the ultimate transcendent being.

'Then, I just need to not be Astra Spiritus anymore.'

He continued his research to lose the power he possessed. Finally, he found the answer.

'I need to return to my human days.'

His human days.

The time when he wasn't the enemy of the world or the target of all the living's hatred.

When he was just an illegitimate child of a low-ranking noble, holding only vague resentment toward the world.

'I will turn back time!'

The result was the crimson monument behind the throne, a manifestation of darkness that transcends time.

Karnak proclaimed triumphantly,

"The most powerful necromancer in human history, having pursued his research with the most desperate of desires. If I fail even now, it means that no one else could accomplish it!"

Baros snorted as if he had been waiting for this.

"That's only because you're the only necromancer in human history who's done it properly, isn't it? You need a comparison to be called the greatest…"

Necromancy was an ancient forbidden art left behind by unknown ancient races before the invention of writing.

It was later considered the most forbidden of all, with no one able to master it properly. Only second-rate practitioners who foolishly pursued power and ended up being killed existed.

Naturally, Karnak was the strongest necromancer in human history.

"Well, it's not an incorrect statement…"

The skull sitting on the throne clicked its jaw.

"Baros, if you weren't a loyal subject who grew up with me, I would have severed your head long ago."

"That's why I'm so bold with you. Do you think you'd feel at ease if you cut off my head?"

"Ah, just words."

Karnak rose from the throne.

He approached the crimson monument and muttered.

"Anyway, let's go, Baros."

Baros also approached the monument and began examining the dark red surface.

"If this succeeds, when will we return? Are we starting from infancy again?"

"It won't be like that. There needs to be at least some common ground."

Since it involves bending time with mana of darkness, there must be a shared point of contact with the time being reached.

Karnak continued wistfully.

"It will be the moment when I first stepped into necromancy. The exact moment when I first harnessed the mana of darkness."

"So, we're returning to the moment I became a Death Knight? The timelines won't match, will they?"

"You're just hitching a ride with me, aren't you? We'll return to the same timeline."

"Oh, I see."

With a still skeptical expression, Baros continued to examine the monument. Then he suddenly asked,

"What happens if we fail?"

"We'll be obliterated."

"Obliteration is not something you speak of so casually."

"Why? Are you still attached to your current life?"

Baros chuckled hollowly.

The second-in-command of the world's greatest empire.

An immortal body with superhuman powers.

Was he attached to all of this?

"No, I'm not."

Indeed, he had no pleasure in life either.

"Well, it's a risk worth taking. There's nothing to lose."

With a relaxed expression, Baros placed his hand on the monument.

"Let's go, young master."

"Right."

Karnak also placed his skeletal hand on the monument.

The crimson monument began to emit a massive darkness.

"Let's return. To the time when we lived as humans."