The life of a baron's heir held no romance.

In a remote rural territory, so far removed from the center that its very existence was questionable, the windmills of the mill spun vigorously under a clear, cloudless sky.

Across the vast pastures, cows and goats grazed peacefully. *Thwack.

Thwack.* On the other side of the forest, the men of the village were busy felling trees.

The boisterous laughter of Robert, always quick with a joke, echoed through the air.

Life in this small territory was the epitome of a peaceful, slow-paced existence.

Even so, Simon was quite satisfied with his life here.

"Simon. What do you think is the most important virtue a lord must possess?" Simon's father, Richard, who had been walking beside him, suddenly posed the question.

Caught off guard, Simon quickly racked his brain.

"Hmm... tolerance, perhaps?"

Richard chuckled.

"Not a bad answer."

"Then what would be a good answer?"

Richard slowly raised his arm and placed his hand over his chest.

"A burning heart."

Simon blinked in surprise. "... What?"

"Just as leaves change their attire with each season, the virtues a lord needs also change depending on the situation," Richard said with a smile, gently ruffling Simon's hair.

"A lord must be able to be a friend, a parent, even a villain. But a lord with a burning heart has the power to convey sincerity to people in any situation. That's the bond between a lord and his people."

"My lord!" Richard and Simon turned their heads.

Several burly men were struggling to carry a large log on their shoulders, their expressions showing clear strain.

"Sorry to interrupt your walk! If it's not too much trouble, could you help us with 'that'?"

"Gladly, Charles."

Simon glanced nervously at his father.

Richard Folentia was an ordinary rural lord, but he had one special trait.

"Step back, Simon."

Richard closed his eyes and quickly muttered a few incantations, then opened his palm.

A dark mist rose into the air, forming the shape of a magic circle.

Simon looked around warily as the circle activated, causing the surrounding trees and bushes to shake.

'Here it comes!'

The ground rippled and turned into a black swamp, from which arms emerged, reaching for the sun as if craving its warmth.

The arms were devoid of flesh, made entirely of pure white bone.

Undead.

Monsters driven by a blind aggression toward the living.

But in this territory, something completely contrary to common sense was happening.

*Clatter.

Clatter.* The skeletons that had risen from the ground rushed forward and began helping the men carry the log.

"Thank you, my lord!" The villagers, far from being afraid of the skeletons, were smiling brightly as if they had just been saved.

"Keep up the good work."

Yes.

Simon's father was a necromancer.

It had been quite some time since necromancers had come to rule half the world.

It all began with the Talhern Empire.

When the emperor of Talhern sent an army of 50,000 to Kizen, the necromancers' stronghold, in an attempt to free himself from their influence, Kizen dispatched only ten necromancers.

Just ten.

And thus, the historic event known as the "Rose Retreat" occurred.

The 50,000-strong army, on its way to Kizen, turned around and marched back to the imperial capital.

All of them had become undead.

The capital of Talhern was reduced to ruins, and the emperor surrendered to Kizen.

From then on, the throne of Talhern was occupied by a rotting corpse that had "once been an emperor."

The empire's officials bowed their heads to this mass of decay, and millions of citizens were subjected to the puppet show of a rotting corpse for thirty years.

A fragment of history that showcased the power and terror of necromancers.

As necromancers rose to prominence, they gradually expanded their influence, and now they held sway over half the continent.

The other half was controlled by their only opposition: the priests.

After the century-long war between these two sharply opposed forces, decades had passed, and the continent now enjoyed a somewhat precarious peace.

'...

But that has little to do with our territory.'

To Simon, the history of war felt like a story from a distant land.

If he were to list the most significant recent events in Leshill, the territory he would one day rule, it would be the rare news of Charles' cow giving birth to two healthy calves and Calon slipping while scrubbing the floor with a broom and needing three stitches on his forehead.

Simon chuckled to himself as he arrived at the lord's manor.

Ah, of course, the "lord's manor" was just what the villagers called it out of respect.

In reality, it was just an ordinary wooden house.

While even poor lords would build small fortresses to maintain their dignity, Richard, the lord of Leshill, was exceptionally humble.

Creak.

"Mom, I'm home."

As Simon opened the door and stepped inside, the comforting scent of wood filled the air.

The firewood in the fireplace crackled as it burned.

"Simon! You're back?" A woman with grayish-white hair, wearing an apron, poked her head out from the kitchen.

It was Simon's mother, Anna Folentia.

"Yes, I just helped with the logging in the village."

"Have you eaten?"

"... I had lunch earlier."

"I baked some bread with the leftover dough. Spread some jam on it and eat."

It was as if a starving ghost had possessed his mother.

Anna was the type who couldn't rest unless she was feeding someone.

Pretending not to hear, Simon pointed to a tray on the table.

"Mom, what's this?"

"It's water infused with Rehak mushrooms."

Rehak mushrooms were a type of poisonous mushroom commonly found in the southern mountains.

Simply soaking them in water caused a green, oily substance to float to the surface.

Consuming it would cause stomach pain or diarrhea for a week, but if it passed through Anna's hands, the story was different.

She rolled up her sleeves and placed her hand over the water infused with Rehak mushrooms.

Hummm!

"Wow!" Simon let out a small exclamation as he watched.

A white light shimmered from her hand, and the poison began to neutralize.

The green impurities floating in the water disappeared like a painting being erased, leaving only the pure nutrients of the mushroom.

The white aura that emanated from her body when purifying poison was commonly referred to as "divine power," the hallmark of a priest.

Yes.

Simon was born between a necromancer and a priest.

What exactly had happened between his parents, Simon didn't know the full story.

He only knew that they had shared a forbidden love, the kind you'd only find in fairy tales, and the result of that love was him.

"Simon!" Anna's voice called from the kitchen, where she had returned at some point.

"I baked an apple pie. Have some!"

"... Ah, okay."

Another day passed as usual.

Simon lay down on his bed, exhausted.

Leshill was quiet today, and it would be quiet tomorrow.

Simon fell asleep, firmly believing that this peaceful routine would never change.

But.

Flap!

Change had already begun.

A letter flew in through the window and stuck to Simon's face.

"Ugh."

Simon reached up to peel it off and opened his eyes.

"Hello?" An unfamiliar voice made Simon blink.

Sitting by the window, bathed in the pale moonlight, was a girl with long, beautiful silver hair that reached her legs.

She exuded an otherworldly, almost mystical aura, like a forest fairy straight out of a fairy tale.

"The time has come," she said, her voice as sweet as honey, rousing Simon from his sleep.

For a moment, Simon stared blankly, then quietly pulled the blanket over his head.

"Don't ignore me!" The girl pouted and jumped down from the windowsill.

"You saw me! Get up, quick!"

Reluctantly, Simon pushed the blanket aside and sat up, his hair disheveled.

"... How did you get here? Are you lost? Where's your mom?"

The girl sighed softly, then regained her composure and smiled.

The moonlight streaming through the window made her silver hair shine even more enchantingly.

"I came here on purpose. I came to see you, Simon Folentia."

Simon was stunned.

She knows my name.

"... Me? Why?"

"Read the letter," she said in a voice far more solemn than her age suggested.

Simon carefully broke the seal and opened the envelope.

A crisp, folded piece of paper rustled as he pulled it out.

Thud!

"Simon!"

"Simon! What was that noise?"

The door opened, and Richard and Anna rushed in.

Their eyes met the silver-haired girl.

"Ah...!"

"Lady Nephthys!"

It seemed they weren't strangers.

The couple's faces lit up, and the girl smiled back, waving her hand.

"Long time no see! Richard, Anna!"

The three began chatting excitedly.

Simon, feeling left out, watched them.

His father, Richard, looked as excited as a boy, while his mother, Anna, was already bustling about, ready to prepare a meal.

"Simon. Pay your respects properly," Richard said.

"This is Lady Nephthys Arkbold."

Wait a minute.

That name sounds familiar.

Nephthys Arkbold.

No, could it be...?

'Nephthys Arkbold of Kizen!'

The pinnacle of all necromancers ruling Kizen.

The mastermind behind the "Talhern Incident," which turned an emperor into a corpse puppet.

The 300-year-old Witch of Death.

That's her?

'Then what's this?'

Simon's hands trembled as he pulled out the letter.

"Let me formally propose this, Simon Folentia," the girl's voice sang like a melody in Simon's ears as he read the letter.

[Kizen Admission Letter - Simon Folentia]

"Come to Kizen."