The Genesis Of A Necromancer

Chapter 97 remember

In the vast expanse of the desert, the moons warm light bore down relentlessly on the sand dunes. Amid the arid silence, a hulking beast sniffed the scorched earth where a pool of black, tar-like blood stained the ground—a grotesque remnant of violence. The creature's nostrils flared, and a guttural growl escaped its throat, disturbing the stillness. Beside it, a demon crouched low, his pitch-black eyes studying the dried corpse of a double-horned demon.

"This blood is fresh. The noble demon didn't die long ago," the demon murmured. His voice carried a sharp edge, filled with the weight of unspoken consequences. His pointed horns gleamed faintly in the sun, and crimson markings ran like tears down his cheeks. As his serpent-green eyes narrowed at the scene, the air around him grew tense. "The other clans won't let this slide."

A female demon stepped closer, her serpentine brown eyes filled with cold calculation. Her voluptuous figure moved with a predatory grace, every step commanding attention. "The culprits are obvious. The intruders. We'll track them soon enough," she said, her voice smooth but laced with menace. Her beast, a hulking creature with jagged fangs and a feral glare, circled them, its growls sending shivers down the spine of a smaller demon standing a few steps back.

Gurat, the snouted demon, shuffled nervously. Beads of sweat rolled down his forehead as he tried to avoid the beast's snapping jaws. 'Why do I always end up in these messes?' he thought bitterly, glancing at the terrifying demoness who held the leash of the feral creature.

"You said they tasked you to find them, didn't they?" the crouching demon asked, his voice low and menacing as his gaze flicked to Gurat.

"Y-yes," Gurat stammered, his eyes darting between the beast and the demon. The creature growled again, saliva dripping from its mouth as if impatient for a meal.

"Isis," the demoness cooed, her voice dripping with mock affection as she placed a hand on her beast's snout, calming it. "Patience. If he proves useless, you'll have him as a snack."

The smaller demon flinched at her words, his heart pounding wildly. 'I didn't sign up to be anyone's dinner!'

"No offense, but how am I supposed to help you find them?" Gurat blurted, his voice quivering. "I have no idea where they went."

The demoness's gaze darkened, but she didn't move. Her lips curved into a predatory smile as her companion, still crouched, spoke up. "If you're truly that clueless, you're worthless to us. We don't have the luxury of wasting time, not when Master Naon expects our return." His voice dripped with disdain, and the weight of his words pressed on Gurat's shoulders like an executioner's blade. "We're Lord Zomaza's most trusted. Failure is not an option."

The snouted demon's knees nearly buckled. "Wait! They… they mentioned something!" he stammered, clutching at straws. "Something about the Chapters of Time, I think… Please, don't kill me! I swear I'll tell you everything I know."

The demoness tilted her head, her smile widening. "Chapters of Time? Interesting." She stepped toward Gurat, closing the gap between them in a heartbeat. Her face was inches from his, her eyes glinting with cruel amusement. "You're lucky you're entertaining."

Gurat tried to back away, but his body refused to obey. Her proximity sent a shiver down his spine. "E-entertaining?"

Without warning, she grabbed his face and pulled him into a deep, forceful kiss. Her serpent-like tongue invaded his mouth, and a searing heat coursed through his veins. His vision blurred, and his mind spiraled into a haze of fear and confusion. The world around him dissolved into a void, leaving only her overwhelming presence.

"Kate," the crouching demon growled, standing abruptly. His green eyes flared with jealousy as he glared at the scene. "You know you shouldn't do things like that with others."

Kate broke the kiss and turned to face him, her lips curling into a smirk. "Jealous, Rex? You know you're the only one for me," she teased, her tone dripping with mock affection. She stepped closer to him, placing a hand on his chest.

Rex's eyes burned with unspoken rage. "Don't test me," he warned, his voice a low growl.

Kate chuckled softly. "Relax. It was just to awaken his soul resonance. You've seen this trick before." She gestured toward Gurat, who now stood motionless, his pitch-black eyes clouded and lifeless. "He's ours now."

Rex scoffed, turning away. "Fine. But don't let it happen again."

Kate's smirk deepened as she turned back to Gurat, whose body twitched faintly as if adjusting to a new reality. "Now, lead us to the intruders," she commanded. Her voice was no longer teasing but sharp and commanding.

Gurat's mind swirled with fragmented images. Through the haze, one figure emerged—a man with piercing azure eyes that seemed to bore into his very soul. The memory brought an overwhelming sense of dread, and yet it compelled him forward.

"Yes… I'll find them," Gurat murmured, his voice hollow.

Kate's smile widened, satisfied.

"Good. Let's move. We're wasting daylight."

Rex grunted in agreement, his sharp gaze scanning the horizon.

"They won't get far. Not with us on their trail."

As the group set off, the desert wind howled around them.

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Jack stared at the little girl in front of him, her bright eyes wide with joy as she called out to him.

"Missy?" he murmured, his voice betraying the confusion roiling within him.

"Yes, big brother!" she replied, her smile radiant and innocent.

For a moment, Jack's mind reeled as memories surged forth from a time he had long buried. He remembered her—a scene from his old life that he thought he would never revisit. Saving her hadn't been part of the plan back then.

The memory unfolded vividly.

A young boy trudged through the filthy streets of the city, his body frail and battered. His bob-cut brown hair clung to his grimy forehead, streaked with dirt from the garbage bins he scavenged in during the cold, lonely nights. His torn jeans hung loosely around his skeletal frame, and his black sweater, riddled with holes, barely offered protection against the biting wind.

His swollen eyes scanned the bustling streets, though they held no focus, no direction. The hum of the city buzzed around him, but he seemed detached, his soul tethered to only one thought.

'Food... I need food.'

He stumbled forward, his feet dragging through the muck, every step more arduous than the last. His lips, cracked from days without water, bled slightly as the dry wind whipped across his face.

"Hey, move it!" barked a man in a crisp black suit. He shoved the boy aside, his nose wrinkled in disgust as though Jack's very presence offended him.

Jack staggered but didn't fall. He had grown used to the roughness of strangers, the disdain etched into their faces. He didn't bother replying. What was the point? He pressed on, the gnawing ache in his stomach pushing him forward, even as the world blurred at the edges of his vision.

The next blow came without warning.

"Watch where you're going, scumbag!" a woman yelled. Her designer handbag swung through the air and struck Jack hard, sending him careening into a narrow alleyway. His head collided with the brick wall, and pain shot through his skull. He collapsed to the ground, his breathing ragged as blood trickled down the back of his head.

"Just die already," the woman spat, her voice dripping with contempt. "The world doesn't need pests like you."

Jack winced, her words stabbing into him with the precision of a knife. Yet even in his haze, a spark of defiance flared within him.

"Damn you all... you'll pay someday," he muttered weakly, his voice barely audible. His trembling hands reached for the wall as he tried to lift himself, his will to survive burning brighter than the pain.

'Mom will come for me. She'll find me. It's only been three days,' Jack told himself, clinging to the faint hope that had kept him going this far. A single tear, as dry and hollow as his voice, escaped his eye and slid down his cheek.

"Leave me! Let me go!"

The desperate cry snapped Jack from his spiraling thoughts. He turned his head and saw a scene that ignited something deep within him.

A little girl, her messy pigtails bouncing as she thrashed, was being pulled along by a burly man. The man's bald head gleamed in the sunlight, his grin twisted with malice.

"Be a good girl and come with me," the man cooed, his voice dripping with false sweetness as he tightened his grip on her arm. "I won't hurt you, I promise."

The girl struggled, her tiny fists beating against his chest as tears streamed down her cheeks. "No! Missy wants to go home! Let me go!"

The man's patience snapped. His grin faded, replaced by a scowl. "You little brat! I don't have time for this—"

BANG!

The man staggered forward, his words cut off by a sharp blow to the back of his head. He swayed for a moment before crumpling to the ground, unconscious.

Jack stood behind him, a large wooden stick clenched tightly in his trembling hands. His gaze was cold, devoid of sympathy as he looked down at the fallen man. Without sparing the girl a glance, he dropped the stick and dashed forward toward the real prize—a loaf of bread sitting on the ground, its wrapper torn open.

With shaking hands, Jack tore off a chunk and shoved it into his mouth. The bread was dry and stale, but to him, it tasted like salvation. The sensation of something solid sliding down his parched throat sent a jolt of life through his starving body.

'Finally.'

He took another bite, his focus entirely on the food. The girl, now free, approached him hesitantly. Her sobs had subsided, and she sniffled as she looked up at her unlikely savior.

"Big brother..." she whispered.