Grandson of the Holy Emperor is a Necromancer

Chapter 287: 151. The Approaching Darkness -1 (Part One)

Translated by A Passing Wanderer

Edited by RED

**

Rehton and three other feudal lords of Aslan were walking through a cave bathed in the inky-black darkness.

It felt like their innards were tumbling. Their heads were spinning dangerously, while their eyes couldn’t see through the curtain of darkness and forced them to walk blindly here.

They felt around with their hands and found the walls, then injected demonic energy into their eyes, finally giving them some view of what was in front of them.

“…It wasn’t a normal cave, after all.”

Their hands came in contact with some kind of viscous, sticky liquid. An acrid metallic stench came from it.

It was blood. The entire inner wall of the cave was covered in thick coats of blood.

The complexions of Rehton and other feudal lords paled instantly.

“My apologies. A Count capable of casting excellent warp magic has died, you see. Some idiotic blood-creations were used to operate this warp magic, so the aftereffects will be intense for you all. We will also need about a month’s preparation to open the warp gate for you to return.” Duke Duran was leading the feudal lords along. “Keep following me.”

The nobles did indeed follow, even though cold sweat was trickling down their bodies. Duke Duran was one of the Progenitor Vampires that they had been negotiating with previously.

This was the final card against the Theocratic Empire the now-deceased former king of Aslan, Rahamma, had prepared, just in case.

The inky-black darkness gradually turned crimson in hue. A cacophony of noises could be heard now as well.

Rehton and the other feudal lords, still diligently following Duke Duran, shifted their gazes over to the right side.

There was a huge opening by the cave wall; sharp sparks could be seen dancing in the air. The quartet peeked through this opening to see what was going on.

“Oh my gods?!”

What they heard was the harsh clangour of metal.

Below them was a stiff cliff face. They could see a crater-like area at the bottom where molten lava was flowing out. Meanwhile, goblins were hurriedly darting here and there, carrying steel around. Ogres were swinging large hammers to temper the heated metal.

Hundreds of goblins and dozens of ogres were currently manufacturing weapons.

A goblin collapsed from overwork; a nearby ogre simply ripped the poor goblin apart and devoured it.

The goblin’s upper torso was gone now, while its bleeding lower torso was placed on top of the heated metal, before the large hammer came down on it.

Standing next to the ogre was a goblin shaman silently mouthing some kind of a spell.

‘…Cursed weapons, made with blood!’

“Lord Rehton, look to your right!”

Rehton heard his colleague calling out to him, so he peeked out further past the opening in the cave’s wall. “…What the hell is that, now?”

He could see some kind of a ‘swamp’ down there, except that he could also tell that it was created from decomposed corpses, judging from all the rotting meat and bones floating around on its surface.

Countless humans stood before it, but orcs kitted out in armour were preventing them from approaching it.

The humans were slaves, convicted criminals, deserters, old men on the brink of death, or deeply ill patients.

In other words, they were humans who willingly came here after being disillusioned by the unfairness of the world.

“Fine. Rather than getting chased down and dying miserably later, I might as well become a monster and get my revenge!”

They willingly chose to become monsters, and walked into the swamp of corpses. As they approached it, something dragged them inside.

“This is a process to manufacture blood-creations. Normally, they need to receive the blood of a Progenitor, but unfortunately that takes far too long.” Duran explained.

One of the humans already inside the swamp, who looked to have spent a dozen-plus days in there, strode out of it and cried out loudly, “I can feel it. I can feel this incredible power-!”

The back muscles of this man, who was now boasting a mountainous physique, began writhing in a grotesque manner. Orcs on standby began distributing equipment to him.

These creatures were currently creating an army, an army that far surpassed anything the Vampires had raised before now.

“It’s not just this place. We are raising a great army in various locations throughout the continent. It seems that Marquis Kirum has ardently pleaded with His Majesty the Vampire King for this,” Duran explained further.

Rehton could only swallow nervously, his mouth dry. Even then, he continued to follow Duran.

Eventually, Rehton and company reached the end of the cave and entered a humongous hallway.

The moment they set foot in this place, the jaws of all the feudal lords dropped right down to the floor. They then began screaming, too.

“I-it’s a monster!”

“A s-snake? Or is it a dragon?!”

All that shouting prompted Rehton to widen his eyes in surprise. He then gasped out in an impressed tone of voice to express his awe, “It’s a Basilisk.”

It was a gigantic snake that reached fifteen metres high just by raising its head up a bit. Whitish scales covered its abdomen area, while its back was covered in what looked like a crustacean’s outer shell.

It opened its large maw wide, while its reptilian eyes glared sharply at the human nobles as its snake-like tongue flicked this way and that.

“This is merely a pet I’m rearing,” said Duke Duran calmly.

The Basilisk scanned the nobles, then slithered right in front of Rehton before opening its maw even wider. A truly disgusting stench came from its mouth. Toxins mixed in with its breath were so strong that Rehton felt like his skin was melting away.

Duke Duran settled down on the throne in front of the Basilisk. He held his head high with a truly arrogant demeanour and ripped into his own arm. Blood gushed out, and so did powerful waves of demonic energy from the wound.

“And so, what will you do now?” Duke Duran asked.

Rehton stared at the Progenitor Vampire, entranced by the scent of the blood.

“Are you still planning to form an alliance with us?”

“O-of course. H-however, as long as Royal Princess Tina is around, the rest of Aslan will support her. Eliminating her will only invite confusion and chaos, instead. Indeed, the Necromancers will not follow us if we do. Even the citizens will…”

“Isn’t there already a most optimum way to form the alliance? The most efficient way will utterly eliminate all opposition from the citizens and nobles of Aslan. Also, I hold no aversion towards the noble blood flowing within Royal Princess Tina.”

Rehton’s eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets. “Are you perhaps suggesting a political marriage?”

“If all feudal lords agree to it, then yes, it’ll be possible to pull it off. We only seek to form an alliance with you. All ruling authority will be handed over to the nobles, while the Dark Elf will remain as a puppet. This is the opportunity that you’ve been waiting for, the one where you get to finally become the ‘king’ that holds all the power. So, what say you?”

Rehton walked up to Duke Duran.

The other feudal lords reached out as if to stop him, but he shook their hands off violently.

Duran spoke again, “You should know by now what it means to become a vampire. The everlasting life, and becoming an apex predator that stands at the top of the food chain.”

Rehton swallowed drily once more.

He continued to stare at the blood oozing from Duke Duran’s hand like a man in a trance, and reached out with his own trembling hands.

Duke Duran’s crimson-hued eyes began to burn even deeper in red. “That’s why you should follow me, Lord Rehton.”

Rehton went down on his knees.

He extended both of his hands to catch Duran’s blood before bringing it into his mouth.

**

(TL: In 1st person POV.)

I was sitting inside my office in the Theocratic Empire’s Imperial Palace, busy compiling a document.

Here it was, the perfect plan. And it was none other than…

“…The Loaded Unemployed Bum Plan.” [1]

Charlotte next to me heard my muttering and frowned deeply. “If I may inquire, what do you mean by that, Your Majesty?”

“You know, I heard about White’s current situation.”

White, as soon as he ascended to Holy Emperor, ran away from the Imperial Court under the pretext of searching for the missing Second Imperial Prince Ruppel. Sure, his personality meant that he probably was really thinking of finding his missing son, rather than finding the affairs of the Imperial Court too burdensome to sit through.

Whatever the case might have been, the main takeaway from that story was this: he skipped town as soon as he ascended to the throne.

And now, look at him. What kind of a life was he living right now?

Even if the Imperial Family wanted to saddle him with some kind of administrative duties, White had all of his authority revoked, so there was basically nothing he could officially do.

Most of the time, he’d just stay in his room idling his days away, or he’d go out to satisfy his favourite pastime, vampire hunting, every now and then. Oh, and he’d also get dispatched to other nations along with Paladins for missions.

To put it simply, that dude was enjoying living his free life.

“…But Your Majesty, do you really not wish to become the new Holy Emperor?” Charlotte asked me.

“Why do you think I’m working this hard right now?”

From a certain moment in time, I had become an agent of the Imperial Family. I was working my butt off for them, and voluntarily rolled up my sleeves to get deeply involved, just so that I could protect the empire’s subjects.

It was almost like I acted subconsciously, out of instinct, etc, etc.

Some part of that could be blamed on the Imperial Family’s blood coursing through my veins and making me hate vampires with passion, but the thing was, I also just couldn’t sit back and do nothing while innocent people were ending up as snacks for some disgusting, vile monsters.

But at this rate, I’d never be able to escape from the prison called the Imperial Palace.

Sure, the throne of the Holy Emperor sounded rather enticing, but your freedom would be taken away just as much. To put it in simpler terms, I would end up like just Kelt. Other than participating in some future wars, I’d be confined to the Imperial Palace for the next hundred years or so.

The real reason why I was going out of my way to raise an army of ten thousand Crusaders was to make my life so much easier in the future.

(TL: The literal translation of the [1] would’ve been the “Golden Bum Plan”. I changed it slightly to avoid the inevitable ‘bum’ jokes.)