Grandson of the Holy Emperor is a Necromancer

Translated by A Passing Wanderer

Edited by RED

"How goes the preparation for the army?" I asked the two men.

"Every available force of the Imperial Family, plus the ten thousand Crusaders, as well as fifty thousand enlisted soldiers, are currently stationed in the Empire's capital of Laurensis, Your Majesty. Also, General Jenald Ripang of the Northern Region has organised an elite force comprised of two thousand convict soldiers. With the support of our allied nations, an allied army numbering about one hundred and fifty thousand strong has been formed, sire. Just one command from you, and they shall mobilise without hesitation." Cardinal Raphael reported to me.

I nodded before turning my attention over to Sword King Oscal. "What about Aslan, then?"

"The Necromancy Corps with one thousand Necromancers, and the siege weapon regiments comprised of two thousand operators, plus fifty thousand slave soldiers as back-up, are on standby as we speak, sire."

Our preparation was as good as it could get..

However, we were not dealing with the assault of one or two hundred Jötnar here. It'd be a huge conflict featuring well over a thousand giants, at the very least.

Let's not forget, the vampires must've managed to create an undead army that should easily surpass the fifty thousand they had raised in the past, all thanks to using Aihrance and Lome as their sacrificial offerings. The undead army they led would be at least several hundred thousand strong by this point, I'd wager.

If we fought in protracted warfare, then it would be us in the disadvantageous position.

Even though we worked our butts off to prepare, our enemies were still so powerful that they still easily overwhelmed us. But that didn't mean we couldn't stop them at all, of course.

Here in the Theocratic Empire, we had an abundance of heroes, after all.

"We shall return to the Imperial Capital at once. Do not forget to issue the evacuation order to not just this border region, but to every other fiefdom, as well."

"As you command, sire."

When I got this far, I abruptly recalled my predecessor, Holy Emperor Kelt. "One other thing."

I looked over at Raphael. The old cardinal tilted his head slightly and looked back at me.

"I shall also head to the tomb of His Majesty the Holy Emperor, Kelt Olfolse."

Raphael's expression visibly hardened when he heard that.

**

Somewhere near the Kingdom of Aihrance's border region...

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White Aihrance's royal decree had reached these areas as well. It ordered the residents living in every corner of the kingdom to evacuate to the Theocratic Empire as if their lives depended on it.

Most did as they were told and left Aihrance, but some still chose to remain behind in their hometown.

This was their motherland, their home, so just where could they even go to, anyway? If they were destined to die anyway, then they wanted to die in their home, at least.

That's what the survivors told themselves, but after some time had passed them by, they started regretting their decision.

"There's nothing here. No food, not even water!"

Aihrance was now covered in sand. Procuring food or water was as hard as picking stars from the night sky at this point. Several of the survivors tried to dig around the arid landscape, but not a single drop of water could be found.

All they could do in this despairing situation was to grit their teeth. If this continued on, they would surely die of starvation, only to become withered corpses in this accursed desert.

"Let's leave."

"But to where?"

"Isn't it obvious? To the Theocratic Empire, of course. They said it's safe over there, didn't they? So, if we go there..."

The man making his opinion known abruptly flinched in surprise and raised his head.

The too-harsh sunlight cast on the ground was suddenly covered up by a tall, pitch-black shadow. The rays of the sun brightly illuminating the surroundings were swallowed up by the blackened storm clouds.

Rain? Could it be that rain was about to come?

The complexions of the survivors brightened considerably.

Drip... drip, drip...

Indeed, drops of rain began falling from the heavens. The survivors rejoiced and reached their hands to the skies.

They opened their mouths to drink the rain water, but what they tasted wasn't the clear and refreshing water, but the acrid metallic stench of blood instead.

'Huh?'

Just as the survivors grew more and more confused, the rain of blood worsened instantly and became a crazed deluge. Only then did they scream out in terror.

At the same time, the ground rumbled ominously, its vibrations seemingly reaching everywhere.

"H-hide, now!"

This tremor...

They were intimately familiar with it. It came from the footsteps of the destroyers who had utterly wrecked the homelands of these survivors earlier.

The surviving humans quickly dove into the pits they had dug out and hid themselves. They fearfully peeked outside to confirm the situation above ground.

Their eyes shot open wide, their mouths firmly clamped shut.

Boom-! Thud-! Boom-!

The Jötnar were beating their drums. Truly imposing noises rocked the surroundings.

Vu-wuuuuu-!

The horns bleated out loudly enough to rupture the eardrums of all the listeners.

The Jötnar, clearly filled to the brim with vigour, grinned insidiously or guffawed out cruelly.

"Sing away!"

They were carrying 'bird cages' constructed out of steel, and the humans trapped in them were crying out in their attempts to sing.

"Yes, the insects are singing! They are singing in beautiful noises-!"

"And we shall march forward-!"

"March! Advance, forward-!"

The Jötnar hummed out of tune and sang along.

Following behind them was a massive army of the undead, noisily screeching and hissing away.

The Progenitor Vampires leading them yelled out, "A brand new era is about to dawn upon us-!"

The undead were marching forward in orderly rank and file, without a trace of error or mistakes anywhere.

Most of them were zombies; they seemed to be constructed out of a high level of demonic energy, and to make matters worse, these zombies were also armed to the teeth.

The citizens of Lome and Aihrance had been hunted down, their blood was sucked out by the vampires, and they were turned into zombies.

Besides them, ghouls could be seen dashing forward on all fours. Dullahans rode on top of them while brandishing their swords.

"Our vengeance of thousands of years, we shall finally achieve it-!"

Lycans were pulling various chariots and carriages along, while the Progenitor Vampires riding on them continued to crack their whips.

The land they marched past instantly rotted away and turned even more barren, completely lifeless. Meanwhile, the rain of blood continued to fall from the sky. The blood inevitably began pooling inside the pits housing the survivors, causing their complexions to get paler and paler.

It was like they were about to drown in a flood of blood.

"Isn't that...?"

"...Yeah, that's the Vampire King."

Hundreds of zombies were hoisting up a massive sedan chair. Sitting on that vehicle was the Vampire King, occasionally slamming the bottom of his spear down.

The gaze of the survivors drifted upwards, at another being following behind the Vampire King.

The surviving humans involuntarily shivered as they continued to stare at the absolutely gigantic shadow.

BOOM-! BOOM-!

It was a humongous ferocious beast. Its body was made out of mud, while its manes were fashioned from branches and vines. Its scales and fangs were created out of hardened bedrock. It even featured a truly enormous maw, as if it was meant to devour everything in this world.

Sitting on top of this ginormous ferocious beast was a giant at least thirty metres tall. It proudly yelled out, -Behold, my latest masterpiece!-

It was none other than the Magic Giant Utgar, waving around its magic staff. Next to it was the Earth Giant Hrungnir, marching forward in utter silence.

A ginormous monster over one hundred metres high, and a Jötunn actually riding on top of it; the survivors took in this ridiculous sight as their jaws slowly fell to the ground.

"We're doomed..."

There didn't seem to be an end to this monster procession.

Dozens, hundreds, thousands of Jötnar...

And then, thousands, tens of thousands... Hundreds of thousands of the walking dead!

These creatures were the destroyers destined to obliterate this world. The bringers of the apocalypse that the humans had heard about in the rumours, the ones that would start Ragnarok!

No existence in this land could ever hope to stop these marauding monsters.

The survivors stumbled back in fear within their pits.

Lycans sniffed the air and shifted their gazes over to the pits, insidious grins floating up on their faces. "Well, now. We got ourselves more of the good food, then!"

The lycans opened their maws and howled out loudly before pouncing into the pits. They swung their sharp claws ruthlessly against the powerless survivors.

----

The Progenitor Vampires reverentially raised up several shields. Corpses of humans that had been freshly hunted just now were placed on top.

"We offer these tributes to Your Majesty, the Vampire King."

The Progenitors presented the bloody meal to their king.

The Vampire King Vlandmir grabbed the severed arm of a human and began devouring it. As he chewed, his glare shifted to the distance far ahead of him. "Our time of vengeance is nigh."

The light burning in his eyes gleamed even more fiercely.

His quest for vengeance that began nearly two thousand years ago was about to be fulfilled for good.

The Imperial Family that had burned him to death...

It was time for them to burn down themselves and vanish from this world altogether!

"Hunt them to your hearts' content!"

The Apocalypse. It was approaching ever closer for them.

< 196. The Beginning of the Apocalypse -1 (Part One and Two) > Fin.