The Necromancer Was Feeling Down

Specks of white light drifted down from the sky, but they were not snow. They looked more like ash left behind after something had burned to nothing.

Scattered pedestrians across the ground reached out to catch those untouchable motes of light, then raised their heads to look toward the northern sky.

The sky reflected in their eyes was shattered. Countless void-black holes divided the vast curtain into section after section, distorting reality. A mage would have been able to see the blazing Black Flames relentlessly eroding a Sea of Seven Colors, with countless waves turning into starlight as they fell into it and were devoured completely.

A moment later, the Sea of Light was fully assimilated by the Black Abyss. At the same time, the world no longer possessed a clear boundary separating light from darkness.

"Hey."

Linton opened his eyes and met the concern hidden in the girl's gaze.

"Did you see something in your dream? You look awful."

"It was nothing. Even a necromancer needs rest when it gets this late."

He looked up at the sky. The stars above the Calvi Continent were still beautiful, dreamlike and illusory.

Seemingly realizing that she wanted to press further, he asked first, "What about you? Who is this Vera? Did you see me doing something with her in your dream?"

"No! We didn't do anything!"

Linton smiled faintly. "Really?"

"No! We! Didn't!" Iris glared at him. "I don't remember anything! Stop asking me!"

"Alright, alright." The necromancer raised his hands in surrender. "Then can you tell me who this Miss Vera is?"

Iris hesitated, but eventually muttered unwillingly, "Vera... is my friend."

"A mage? A knight? Or something else?"

"Probably a mage?" Iris sounded uncertain. "Ever since I met Vera, the place she appeared most often was the reading room in the Blossom Academy of Magic library. If she were a Flower Knight or a warrior who used swords, she would hardly touch any books unless there was a special need. Only mages, who needed extensive reserves of knowledge, would spend all their time in the library."

"Besides, as far as I can tell, even the royal court's scholars couldn't compare to Vera's breadth of knowledge. Back then, no matter what problem I had, as long as I went to her, I would always get a perfect solution. So she must be a mage."

"She's pretty, knowledgeable, and gentle too. Heavens, why did the Lord of Blossoms give someone both a door and a window at once!"

"She sounds like a very outstanding person." Linton rubbed his fingertips together and said casually, "When we go to Falasong someday, perhaps we can pay this lady a visit."

"Like hell we can! No! We! Can't!"

Iris had been about to agree when the scene from her dream surfaced before her again, making her bristle on the spot.

But when she saw the teasing smile on Linton's face, she immediately understood. He had been toying with her thoughts in the palm of his hand.

Why hadn't this evil warlock died already?! Everyone who toys with people's hearts should die ten thousand times!

At that point, Iris did not want to say another word to him. How could she remember that she had originally spoken up to dig into Linton's dream?

When she finally came to her senses, she could only marvel that the Truth Society had truly been blind not to make this guy the head of a cult.

"Little Black, don't go! Little Black, how am I supposed to live without you?!"

"...I thought I wasn't the one leaving?"

"Little Black, why are my eyes always filled with tears? Is it because I love you so deeply?"

"By common logic, persistent tears might be due to dry eyes caused by staying up too late, triggering the body's self-protection mechanism."

"Little Black, I killed river crabs in the canyon for ten years. I thought my heart had become as cold as my CPU, until I met you."

"...Yeah, sure."

Linton looked at this group of "enthusiastic" players with a headache. He had never expected that even when they were about to leave, they would still put on such a performance for him.

He turned to look at Iris, who was humming a tune and watching the show from the side as though nothing had happened.

There were no players around the puppet girl, completely unlike the situation he faced. That was, if not for the knight's sword blocking them.

Normally, Linton might have tossed them a random quest to send them away, but the closed beta was almost over. Who still cared about that little bit of experience?

"Little Black, Little Black, I'm here to turn in the quest!"

The paying player Greninja squeezed out from the crowd and proudly shouted, "I delivered all the messages you wanted to that blacksmith. So, tell me, what reward are you giving me?"

"Messages? What messages?" Linton looked completely baffled.

"You told me to find the blacksmith. Wasn't it to pass along some shady information?" Greninja winked at him and whispered, "Don't worry. That blacksmith left after we finished talking, and he didn't leak any information. Even I, the person involved, don't know anything."

"So... it was you?" Linton chuckled, immediately understanding why the blacksmith had inexplicably come looking for trouble with him.

—Most likely, the blacksmith had taken seriously one of the stories invented by these players who let their mouths run wild.

"You forgot me so quickly?" Greninja clutched his chest and said mournfully, "Even if we're just tools, we still have feelings. I'm heartbroken."

"How much compensation would it take to mend your wounded heart?" Linton practically ground the words out through his teeth.

At that moment, Greninja let out a faint sigh. "What a pity. The data will be wiped and the servers shut down soon. No matter how good the reward is, it won't keep you. If only you could remember me. Then when the open beta starts, I'll be miles ahead of everyone else right from the starting line."

"How could I forget you?" Linton's gaze was kind. "Your appearance has already been set and won't change again. Your features are so distinctive that I definitely won't forget you."

"Really?!" The joy on Greninja's face was impossible to hide. He muttered to himself, "Is this the benefit of being a closed beta player?"

"In that case, I won't change my ID or remake my face next time."

There was not much time left on the server shutdown countdown. Seeing the other players around him logging off one after another, Greninja waved his hand as well. "Little Black, you have to remember me! Next time we meet, I'll still have this ID, and I'll still be Greninja!!"

Before his words had even faded, his figure vanished.

Linton watched silently as the players went offline one by one, lowering his eyes without a word.

At the same time, Iris, who had been hiding to the side and watching the show, suddenly had a flicker in her eyes. She then looked at Linton in confusion. "Who were you talking to just now?"

Linton froze.

Only after confirming that his memories of the players had not disappeared did he slowly say, "I was settling an account."

"Was it about cooperating with Mr. Frel?"

"Something like that."

"I was thinking about how much I should raise his price when the time comes."

Iris watched him suddenly lift his head to gaze at the stars. For some reason, she felt that in that instant beyond her perception, Linton seemed to have drifted outside the world itself.

But that feeling was too vague for her to grasp and describe clearly.

The puppet girl could only be certain of two things now: the "he" Linton had mentioned was not Blacksmith Frel, and—

—the necromancer was feeling down.