"Yes, good news." Stephen smiled slightly. He stood up and walked to the bed, gently pressing his hand on Jarvis' head. A wave of black-and-white magical energy swept over him.
A long gasp of breath came from Jarvis' throat, and then his tightly closed eyes slowly opened. He twisted his neck, looking around, and his gaze settled on the faces of Inham and Stephen, showing signs of confusion and disorientation.
"What?" Even Inham, with all his composure and calmness, was shaken. This was definitely not the behavior of someone whose mind had become a chaotic mess, and that gaze could not possibly belong to someone devoid of thought or spirit. He quickly walked to the bedside, reaching out to grab Jarvis' wrist. The cold, pulse-less touch replaced the flow of magic within the body. This was no longer a human body; it had completely become like that of a death knight.
"Don't worry about the body. I've carefully chosen parts crafted by Shante, combining them all together. Even the internal organs are from theirs, and I've added many secret techniques I learned from the East. Even if Shante himself came, he wouldn't be able to do better than me. I can confidently say your son's body is the strongest on this continent; it's the culmination of the highest magical craftsmanship." Stephen pointed to the corner of the room where a pile of dismembered limbs lay, various muscles, bones, and internal organs completely broken down into their smallest pieces, resembling the finest butcher's scraps. Only two heads remained intact, revealing the original owners' faces. Hilika's brutal, fierce face and Rodehart's handsome appearance now lay quietly on the floor, like two sculpted busts.
"How do you feel now?" Inham asked as he looked at Jarvis. At this moment, his expression was unlike any he had shown before. No longer did he exude the aura of a bishop, necromancer, or the cunning manipulator of changing winds and fortunes. He no longer seemed like the scheming mastermind he had once been. Instead, he appeared just like one of the millions of fathers in the world.
For some reason, seeing Inham's expression from the side, Stephen couldn't help but reveal a small smile, which was different from the one he had been wearing earlier. It was a genuine smile, coming from his true feelings. However, this smile carried little goodwill.
Jarvis merely nodded slightly, without saying anything. Even this was enough for Inham. A son who could understand speech and nod was already satisfactory to him, though Jarvis' eyes still carried an air of confusion.
Stephen returned to his usual mild smile, shrugged his shoulders, and said, "A small flaw. These two death knights didn't have vocal cords, and your son's original ones were damaged by Sandru, so he can't speak for now. We'll fix that later."
"How did his consciousness come back?" Inham turned to ask. This was the question that truly concerned him.
Stephen smiled faintly and said, "The power of Universal Salvation exceeded my expectations. Plus, the white magic in his body already had a solid foundation. I thought of a method: I used necromantic magic to deliberately erode his mind and brain, guiding the power of Universal Salvation to strike. I'm familiar with Sandru's techniques, and while I can't match him in body manipulation, he is weaker when it comes to the mind and brain. At least, that's where I can make up for it."
"Yes, that approach could work..." Inham nodded slowly. The reason white magic couldn't heal Jarvis' injuries was that, from a certain perspective, they weren't injuries at all. Instead, Sandru had twisted his normal bodily functions with an incomprehensible method. If there was someone who understood Sandru's techniques and could control magic in a similar manner, and then used the miraculous healing power of Universal Salvation, this seemed like the only way to restore him without using the World Tree leaf.
"However, I must apologize," Stephen continued, looking a bit uneasy. "This method was quite risky. If Universal Salvation'had stopped halfway, it could have been irreversible. I didn't have time to consult with you. I thought you might have a way to make up for it, so I took the risk. Fortunately, luck was on my side."
"Sorry for disrupting your plans. You probably had a better way to restore his consciousness, didn't you? I acted without consulting you."
"Master Stephen, I truly need to thank you," Inham said, bowing deeply to the ground.
"Not at all," Stephen said, then hesitated before continuing, "By the way, there is a small side effect... You know the effect of magic erosion... Although Universal Salvation helped compensate, it may have some impact on his previous memories. Of course, I guarantee that his mind will be as clear as ever from now on."
Inham lowered his head, thinking for a moment, then sighed and nodded, looking at Jarvis. "Is that so... Maybe this is a good thing for him. He has reached this point because he couldn't forget many things."
Stephen nodded and smiled. "There's an interesting religion in the Far East. One of their teachings says that a person's troubles come from remembering too much. Only by forgetting, letting go, can one find true peace and joy."
"Yes, maybe you're right," Inham said thoughtfully, nodding as he looked at Jarvis. Jarvis was still lying on the bed, looking at the two of them with a confused expression.
"He is still very weak, but with enough magical energy, he'll recover quickly. However, what he needs now isn't just necromantic magic. After the transformation by Universal Salvation, he also needs a huge amount of white magic to drive his body. After all, a necromancer knight's body needs a normal mind to control it. Using only necromantic magic is no longer enough. You can just gather ten or so priests and clergy members, and have them channel their magical energy to your son."
It seemed that Stephen felt a bit embarrassed about acting on his own, so after thinking for a moment, he said, "Well... if you're not at ease, you can always wait a while, see how he recovers. Once you're sure everything is fine, you can give me that thing later..."
"No need." Inham reached into his robe and took out a staff.
Stephen's expression didn't change, but his eyes started to glow. The staff had obvious cracks in the middle, showing it was made from two half-pieces hastily joined together. Stephen recognized it immediately — this was the very thing he had been wanting. The faint aura emanating from the staff when the two pieces were joined could only come from one specific item.
Inham extended the staff toward him, but then hesitated slightly, pulling it back as if not fully trusting the situation. He asked again, "Master Stephen, are you sure he's completely recovered? There won't be any issues in the future?"
"Absolutely not. You can rest assured," Stephen answered with confidence and a smile, but he didn't look at Inham. Ever since the staff had been presented, his gaze had been glued to it.
"Well, if you say so, then I can rest easy," Inham nodded, smiling as he handed the staff to Stephen.
Stephen reached out to take the staff, and his hand trembled slightly, like a boy nervously touching his lover for the first time. "It's a shame that the Ring of Kings is already in Magnus' hands, and that reckless fool has used it for four forbidden spells... it's probably exhausted its power by now. Otherwise, these two legendary artifacts from the greatest power on the continent would have been reunited in my hands..."
His words abruptly stopped here. His hand continued to tremble, and the shaking grew more intense, even spreading to his entire body. His face turned completely pale. Suddenly, his other hand shot up, and a layer of black magical energy gathered around his palm, slicing horizontally toward his right hand, which was gripping the staff.
"Huh?" Inham's face showed a hint of surprise. He raised both hands, and a skillfully controlled force field shield materialized, blocking Stephen's left hand. Stephen's hand froze in midair, but the blade-like black energy from his palm flew out and continued its attack on Inham's right hand, which held the staff.
A burst of white light from a Purification spell flashed from Inham's hands, colliding with the black energy, only to be dissipated almost instantly by the dark force. Inham snapped his hands together, and beams of white light flared up at an incredibly rapid rate, forming a dense shield between them. Eventually, the black energy was dispelled.
At this point, Inham had released the staff, and it was now only in Stephen's grasp. Inham was desperately trying to sever the hand that held the staff, while Stephen was equally determined to resist him.
"You..." Stephen roared. His once-lean, elegant, and scholarly appearance was now completely distorted. His eyes were filled with a mix of fear, anger, and viciousness, which, combined, made him look like a wolf caught in a trap, desperately struggling to break free. The black energy was no longer just in his hand, but had spread across his entire body. The dark magical aura now formed dozens of blade-like tendrils, radiating outward in a web-like pattern with him at the center.
Inham had already leaped back, quickly picking up Jarvis from the bed. With a roll, he reached a corner of the basement. He pushed the bed in front of them as a shield. As if that wasn't enough, he waved his hand, and the shattered remains of two death knight bodies in the corner flew over, assembling themselves into a bizarre shield in front of them.
A loud crash rang out, and the entire basement collapsed. It wasn't just the basement—everything within a radius of several dozen meters was shredded into pieces by the black, blade-like magical energy. The buildings above them crumbled into rubble, and dust filled the air, with bricks and stones flying in all directions. In an instant, the area was reduced to a pile of ruins.
The rubble shifted, and Inham dragged Jarvis out, both of them covered in dirt and dust. All the priests and swordsmen had gathered around the square, oblivious to what had just happened.
"…It looks like this was really too risky..." Inham muttered, touching his chest, where several wounds were oozing blood. Even though he had gained the upper hand with his strategies and methods, the reality was that Stephen was a member of the Necromancer Guild and had decades more magical experience than him. If it hadn't been for the remains of those death knights, and if he hadn't unleashed his full power with white magic to defend, he and Jarvis would now only be part of the debris.
Using earth magic to separate the rubble, Stephen revealed himself. The necromancer was still in the same posture, his hand still tightly gripping the staff. His expression remained twisted, but now it was even more grotesque, as his head had been crushed by the falling stones above, looking as though someone had squeezed a tomato.
Inham carefully took the staff from Stephen's hand. His movements were cautious because, at the end of the staff, where Stephen had just gripped it, there was a tiny needle embedded. This almost invisible needle had originally been concealed in Inham's ring and had silently and imperceptibly pierced Stephen's hand. Anyone who was pricked by this needle would have their functions—along with their magical aura—completely halted by the potent poison refined from the essence of the Dehya Valley and mixed with a curse.
Even someone like Stephen, a necromancer who had immersed himself in the study of death magic for decades, could at most slow down the effects of the curse and poison for just a few seconds. That brief moment was enough to allow him the opportunity to sever the hand that had been poisoned. Ultimately, one of the most powerful necromancers on the continent would be left standing like a lifeless statue, waiting for the collapsing stones to crush him to death.
"I'm sorry, but I can't give this to you. Although it may seem like a waste to you, this thing is far more useful than a dozen priests," Inham said. With a push of his hand, Stephen's body slowly tipped backward. As it fell, his body began to disintegrate and scatter, until all that remained was a pile of dried, broken remains and tattered clothes, which crashed to the ground.
Jarvis lay amidst the rubble, seemingly drained of all his strength, his eyes closed. Inham placed the staff against his forehead and began to slowly chant a spell.
As the incantation continued, the staff began to emit a brilliant white light, its radiance rivaling that of the Purifying Light's holy magic. The surrounding air rippled with the intense, almost tangible flow of magic, but unlike the healing properties of Purifying Light, this magic was more fundamental, direct, and far more intense in its white energy.
Inham's forehead was beaded with sweat. He didn't know the exact way to use this staff, but that didn't matter. The incantation he was speaking was actually necromantic magic. As he chanted, black energy slowly spread from his hand to the staff, pushing the white light toward Jarvis' body.
Jarvis' body absorbed the white magic like a sponge. The intense, almost solidified white light flowed into him the moment it made contact. Inham's voice grew louder as his forehead sweated more and more, his hand starting to tremble. Finally, all the white light from the staff had completely flowed into Jarvis' body.
As the white light dissipated, the staff became nothing more than a rotted, decrepit stick, aged for decades. Inham released his grip, and the staff fell to the ground, shattering into pieces.
Inham was drenched in sweat, struggling to stay on his feet, but his expression was one of relief and contentment. Despite his fatigue, Jarvis had stood up.
After the infusion of the staff's white magic, the countless wounds that had once covered Jarvis' body had completely vanished. Unlike the body of the necromancer's knight, Jarvis now appeared no different from an ordinary person, his muscles full of vitality and elasticity.
Jarvis looked at Inham with a nod, then turned his gaze toward the pile of debris where Stephen lay, his face suddenly contorting into a strange expression.