Declan muttered blankly.

“The power of death…”

The black stigmata densely covering Saskia’s body. Sentences that looked like thorny vines, or wings.

Those were undoubtedly the stigmata of Morsina, the God of Death.

‘Does that mean this person has received the blessing of death?’

According to some, those with the blessings of death and life appear in the same era.

As recorded, in such times, great crises that shook the world or major upheavals were said to have occurred.

Faced with this unexpected situation, Declan felt a chill down his spine. It felt as if a fate ordained by the gods, one that couldn’t be avoided, was approaching right before his eyes.

‘It seems something big is about to happen in the world.’

Whether due to the excitement of standing at the center of history, or fear, his heart beat irregularly.

What was certain was that as long as Vanessa was hostile to him, he needed to draw this mage—the one blessed with death—to his side.

After all, the power of death would be the most powerful counter to Vanessa’s power of life.

‘Yes, this is an opportunity.’

If possible, he needed to be able to borrow the power of death not just once, but continuously.

Declan carefully formulated his response while considering how to win Saskia’s favor.

“I never imagined you’d be one blessed with death. If you need to ask for my help despite possessing such great power, it must be a serious matter? I’d like to hear what you want.”

His tone had already changed to be respectful. It was only natural, as he absolutely needed to gain the other’s favor.

What could this mage called Saskia want? Power? Money? Safety? Given that she still emphasized her direct allegiance to the King of Terevron, she might want the restoration of the Terevron dynasty.

If that was truly her wish, it would undoubtedly be treason against the Emperor, but…

‘It’s not just any god, but the power of Morsina, the God of Death. Though I don’t know exactly what effect that power has, being the absolute power of death, it should be able to threaten even the immortal Emperor…’

It was possible that a great wave that could overturn the hegemony of this continent had arrived before him. A golden opportunity to topple the tyrannical Emperor who had reigned as the world’s ruler for over 200 years.

With his fists clenched tightly, Declan waited expectantly for Saskia’s answer. Saskia blinked her innocent-looking black eyes slowly and calmly opened her mouth.

“To resurrect my lord, I need an ancient treasure of the Roengreen royal family and a sacred place where moonlight enters.”

“Re… resurrect?”

Declan was so shocked by this unexpected statement that he even stammered. The ‘lord’ this person referred to must undoubtedly be Leroy Terevron.

How on earth could she resurrect Leroy, who had been beheaded by Jurgen Drake? Does the power of death include the ability to revive the dead?

‘If not that… could it be… the forbidden art of reviving the dead?’

The forbidden art known as ‘reviving the dead’ was, contrary to its name, not actually about bringing the dead back to life.

It was an art that turned the dead into walking corpses, ‘putting souls into dead shells’.

So strictly speaking, those resurrected in this way couldn’t be considered truly alive. They were corpses with souls, existing with their time stopped. That was what the undead were.

To perform this art of reviving the dead, several materials and tools were needed, the most basic being the bones of the deceased and the clothes they were wearing at the time of death.

The clothes were necessary to ensure the soul didn’t get confused about where to enter.

‘And another necessary ingredient is…’

The bones, flesh, and blood of one of the same bloodline.

For a moment, Declan’s thoughts turned to Arno Terevron, who was reported to have gone missing from the Imperial City.

He wondered where that troublesome, greedy, and useless person had gone…

‘He must have been captured by this mage.’

Arno was probably imprisoned somewhere by now, in a state of being alive yet not alive, magically preserved. After all, the flesh and blood needed to resurrect the dead had to be fresh.

‘How horrifying.’

Declan frowned slightly but quickly relaxed his facial muscles and put on a gentle expression. He subtly asked Saskia if his assumptions were correct.

“Are you perhaps trying to perform the ‘art of reviving the dead’?”

“…That’s right.”

The affirmative answer came surprisingly easily. It seemed the other side thought Declan was already half-convinced, as there was no intention to hide the plan.

‘…Or perhaps, if I refuse, she intends to kill me to silence me and take what she wants by force.’

Though it had been a short time, Declan could vaguely grasp what kind of person Saskia was.

She was a monster. A monster who could burn everything, including herself, for a single purpose.

Such dangerous madness was swirling beneath those seemingly detached black eyes.

“I see… It’s a bit shocking, but I understand your requests well. They’re not difficult for me to grant, so there’s no need for further discussion, is there?”

Declan loved Roengreen. His goal was to elevate this country from a small agricultural nation to a powerful country with great wealth and military might.

His value lay in the future, and useless daggers that were merely enshrined in old palace ruins were nothing but the past.

“I accept your proposal, Saskia. I hope we can become good allies from now on.”

Ambition shone in Declan’s blue eyes.

It was an intense radiance, like a falling star burning up its entire body.

✦ ✦ ✦

“I-I found it! I found it!”

It had been exactly three days since Jurgen returned to his territory. Jenelly, looking as if she might burst into tears at any moment, burst into the Duke’s office.

She stamped her feet, repeatedly exclaiming,

“I did it! I did it! Oh, I thought I was going crazy!”

When Jenelly was in such an excited state like a madwoman, it was best to wait a bit even if you tried to talk to her, as conversation wouldn’t get through. Once she calmed down a bit, she would explain everything in detail on her own.

Sure enough, as if the time had finally come, Jenelly burst into tears and confessed.

“The vector of the damned plague pathogen! It was rats!”