Necromancer: Kingdom Building with My Legion of Undead Knights

Chapter 160: Home

The massive undead beast emerged silently from the darkness beside the group.

Even after seeing it countless times, the creature remained an intimidating sight.

It moved without making much noise despite its size. It didn’t growl or barked.

It just took silent footsteps following alongside the riders.

The knights barely reacted anymore.

A few months ago, things would have been completely different.

Back when Darion had first become Baron and started summoning undead creatures openly, many of them had felt uncomfortable around him.

Necromancers did not exactly possess good reputations.

Most stories involving necromancers ended with villages burned down, corpses raised from graves and entire kingdoms regretting their life choices.

People weren’t taught to trust necromancers. They were taught to fear them.

The knights of Percvale had been no different.

At first they had watched Darion carefully whenever he summoned something.

Not openly hostile or fearful. But cautious..Very cautious.

Over time, however, Darion’s actions had slowly changed that.

He had rebuilt farmland. Protected villages. Fed people. Solved problems.

The Barony itself was becoming stronger under his rule. Those things were difficult to ignore.

Of course...

That didn’t mean Darion was actually some kind-hearted saint. Not even close.

The people of Percvale saw a ruler improving their lives. His enemies saw something entirely different.

Valdenmoor certainly hadn’t considered Darion’s actions good. Neither had the soldiers whose barracks he had burned. Nor the king he had captured. Nor the men who had watched undead wolves tear through their forces.

Darion smiled slightly to himself.

Perspective really was everything.

Aldric had called him a monster.

Darion hadn’t cared and he still didn’t.

If being a monster meant protecting Percvale and making sure its people survived, then people could call him whatever they wanted.

But what if he decided to be a saint and just allow Valdenmoor to attack? What if he had let them march into Percvale unchecked, maybe kill random citizens, burn more houses, destroy whatever remained of the barony’s will to survive? Their first attack had already shown what they were capable of: brutal, efficient and merciless. They hadn’t come to negotiate. They had come to burn.

Or what if he had just allowed them to take the farmlands in the first place? Signed the papers, handed over the eastern fields, and walked away with nothing but a promise that they wouldn’t come back?

Well... that would have spoiled any chance he had of becoming an actual Baron. The farmlands were everything. Without them, Percvale had no future. No way to grow food, no way to feed its people, no way to generate income. The farmland was the foundation he was using to pull the barony out of its death spiral. Giving it up would have been giving up on Percvale entirely. And Darion wasn’t the kind of person who gave up.

So no. He wasn’t some saint. He had done what needed to be done. And he would do it again if he had to.

So the giant wolf continued walking beside them.

And its presence made the journey considerably safer.

Any bandits foolish enough to consider attacking travelers at night would likely reconsider the moment they spotted a massive undead wolf escorting the group.

And if they didn’t reconsider... Well. That would become their problem.

The hours passed quietly after that.

Occasionally someone spoke. A comment here. A question there. But for the most part, everyone simply rode through the darkness.

Each man occupied with his own thoughts.

Eventually, the familiar outline of Percvale appeared in the distance. By then it was fully night.

Scattered lights burned throughout the settlement, creating small pockets of warmth against the darkness.

Darion found himself staring at them as they approached.

Home!

A month ago, Percvale had simply been the territory he was sent to die in. Now it really felt like home.

As they rode closer, the guards stationed outside immediately noticed their arrival. The moment they recognized Darion, they straightened.

Several bowed respectfully.

"Welcome back, my lord."

"Good night... evening, Baron."

Darion nodded to them.

"Good work."

The guards looked noticeably pleased by the acknowledgment.

The gates were opened immediately and the group passed through without delay.

Soon they reached the castle itself. Stable hands hurried forward to assist.

The horses were carefully taken away to be fed, watered and rested after the long journey.

Garren handed over his reins while stretching slightly.

The older knight looked relieved to finally be off the road. The three accompanying guards were no different. They exchanged farewells with Darion before heading toward the barracks.

Maret would undoubtedly have food waiting for them. After the journey they had just completed, they had earned it.

Darion entered the castle alongside Garren. Warmth immediately greeted them. The large fireplace along one side of the great hall had already been lit.

Bright orange flames danced behind the iron grate, pushing back the chill of the night.

Standing nearby was Wulfric. He looked up the moment they entered.

A smile immediately appeared on his face.

"My Lord."

Darion nodded in greeting.

Garren did the same.

"It seems your trip was successful," Wulfric observed.

"It was," Darion replied.

Darion removed part of his traveling gear with a quiet sigh.

Now that he was back, exhaustion was finally beginning to catch up to him. The journey itself had not been particularly difficult. But negotiations were tiring in an entirely different way.

He looked toward Wulfric.

"Could you ask Aldra to prepare a hot bath?"

"Of course, my Lord."

Wulfric immediately nodded.

"I’ll inform her right away."

Darion lowered himself into one of the chairs within the great hall. The warmth from the fireplace felt wonderful after hours spent riding outside.

For a moment he simply sat there.

Relaxing and listening to the crackling fire.

Then a thought crossed his mind.

"Where’s Seren?"

Wulfric replied, he was back now.

"The young lady retired some time ago."

Darion raised an eyebrow.

"Already asleep?"

Wulfric nodded.

"Yes, my Lord. She retired to her room hours ago."

He had expected to find her awake, sitting somewhere with her bow or reading by candlelight.

But now that he thought about it, maybe there wasn’t any reason for her to be awake. The day was over. The work was done. There wasn’t anyone to talk to — Garren had been gone with him, the knights were at their posts or resting, and Maret and Aldra were busy with their own evening tasks.

Seren didn’t have friends in Percvale yet. Not really. She trained the archers, yes, but that was work. Training wasn’t the same as sitting with someone and just talking.

It made sense that she had gone to bed. There was nothing keeping her awake.

Soon Aldra came to inform him that his bath was ready.

He went and had a steaming bath. The heat soaked into his muscles, loosening the stiffness from hours of riding. He hadn’t realized how tense he had been until the warmth started pulling it out of him.

He stayed in until the water began cooling, then finally stepped out and dried off. After he was done, he wore light clothes for sleep: a simple tunic and loose trousers.

Maret served his food after that. He ate slowly, not because he wasn’t hungry but because he wanted to enjoy it. The journey had been short, but castle food was still better than travel rations.

Garren came to sit at the great hall not long after. He had bathed too, his hair still slightly damp. Maret served his own meal, and the two of them ate in companionable silence. Neither felt the need to fill the quiet with talk. They had said enough on the road.

After some time, Darion set down his spoon and looked across the table.

"Are the coins still there?"

It was an anticlimactic statement, actually. Kind of funny in a way. Unexpected... Like he had just thrown the question at Garren out of nowhere. No buildup or no gentle lead-in, just straight to the point.

Garren smiled slightly. For a moment, it almost resembled a grin.

"Yes, m’lord," he replied.

Darion nodded in relief.

For a second there, he had thought it might all be gone. Stolen or something like that. Perhaps some knights would start a rebellion and take all of it while he was away. Or maybe Seren would pull a surprise or something, not that she had given him any reason to suspect her, but y’know... things happen.

But no!

The coins were safe and intact. Still sitting in the storage room.

Now that their trip to Thandor was over. Now comes the next phase.

The rebuilding.

The debt issue had improved dramatically, but Percvale’s problems had not vanished. There was still livestock to purchase. Still farmland to expand. Still workers to organize. Still roads, buildings, and countless other projects waiting for attention.

His thoughts immediately drifted toward the carpenters. They would have to begin first. Before the livestock pens, before the expanded fields, before anything else, the people who would build it all needed to be hired and organized.

The rebuilding plans were already forming inside his head again.

The journey to Thandor had ended. Now it was time to get back to work.

There was still a lot to be done.