Norris stepped into the grand library of Erebo, his eyes adjusting to the dim light within. The air was thick with the scent of old parchment and decay. He approached a large, ornate desk, where a sign read "Brief Knowledge of Erebo: 100 Dark Crystals." Norris handed over the required crystals, and in exchange, he received a worn, leather-bound tome.
As he delved into the book, Norris discovered the history and nature of Erebo. In the depths of the Death Realm, a domain under the influence of the Necromancer Council, lay the city kingdom of Erebo. This metropolis was home to a peculiar populace: the sentient undead.
Erebo's inhabitants were a diverse assortment of creatures, each born from the transformative power of death. Zombies, skeletons, ghouls, and other abominations roamed the streets, alongside liches, wraiths, specters, and revenants. Their undead hearts beat with a faint, otherworldly glow, yet despite their monstrous appearances, these creatures possessed a spark of self-awareness.
The evolution of these sentient undead was a mysterious and capricious process. It began with the transformation of mortal souls, influenced by the Death Realm's dark energies and the location of their demise. As they accumulated experience and reached a critical threshold, they underwent a random and often drastic evolution.
Incorporeal undead, such as wraiths and specters, were the result of a soul with unusually strong emotions or a very strong soul resonating with the Death Realm's energies, forming an energy body. These beings were very rare. They could actually feel emotions, but they rarely enjoyed it before they became numb.
However, this sentience came at a terrible cost. The undead existed in a state of numbness, their emotional responses dulled and muted. They could recall the joys and sorrows of their past life, but these feelings were now distant, faded memories.
As he delved into the book, Norris learned that Erebo was a city under the jurisdiction of the Necromancer Council. The Council, the largest gathering of necromancers in the multiverse, wielded immense influence over the profession of necromancy. Their cutting-edge research and political movements determined how other empires, kingdoms, and states viewed necromancers. The Council had moved their headquarters to the Death Realm, making necromancers without a backer in the material world. As a result, many necromancers, after reaching a certain level, ventured to other realms, especially the Death Realm.
Erebo, a city under the Council's influence, was purely an undead city with necromancers like Norris visiting only rarely. The city was ruled by the legendary lich Xandros, a naturally born lich who had evolved from a lesser undead form. Little was known about whether the first lich was born through a negative ritual or naturally in the Death Realm. Modern mages debated whether the first lich to ever exist was created by mages in an attempt to gain eternal life or if they were born naturally in the Death Realm and then studied. Erebo was governed by the Council of Elders, who only exerted their power to lead a research topic at the beginning of each millennium, injecting vitality into the city.
Xandros, being the only legendary being in the city, did not care about power, as he could take it whenever he wanted. The council members learned from him and didn't take power seriously either. This led to a city ruled by law, a wonder in this otherworld.
Norris decided to observe the community to learn more about the sentient undead and their way of life. He spent several days blending into the crowd, using his mana scent to navigate the complex web of magical energies that permeated the city. He noticed that because the undead required little to sustain themselves—their bodies not needing food, water, or rest—they existed in a state of perpetual stasis, their abilities and strength remaining constant without the need for practice or training.
Norris also observed that most undead in Erebo were more inclined to magic, even the newly awoken. He suspected they had been guided to evolve in that direction but didn't know how. He didn't ask, thinking it might be some secret technology.
Erebo, the City of Eternal Studies, lay shrouded in an eternal twilight, its streets and buildings seeming to fade into the shadows like forgotten relics. The air was heavy with the scent of old parchment, decay, and the faint tang of necromantic energies. Despite the desolate atmosphere, an aura of academic rigor and the pursuit of knowledge permeated the city.
As Norris walked through the streets, he observed the undead inhabitants through the subtle nuances of their mana scents. The newly evolved undead, still adjusting to their immortal existence, emitted a faint, erratic scent, like the first tentative sparks of a flame. They hurried to and from the city's numerous libraries and scriptoriums, eager to absorb knowledge and find relief from the numbness of their souls.
In contrast, the older residents of Erebo exuded a rich, complex mana scent, like the deep, mellow flavor of aged wine. Their auras were redolent with wisdom, calmness, and acceptance, reflecting their centuries-long journey of self-discovery and mastery. These venerable undead often gathered in the city's elegant tea houses, sipping on rare and exotic brews that seemed to ease the numbness of their souls.
Each undead city and domain had its own way of taking soul poison to activate their soul. In Erebo, it was taken as tea, heightening their soul state and making their emotions last longer. One such brew was the "Eternal Twilight" tea, a rare, otherworldly brew made from the delicate, crystal-like petals of the mysterious Soulbloom flower. The Soulbloom's petals contained microscopic, mana-sensitive fibers that absorbed the essence of souls, allowing the tea to tap into the drinker's deepest energies. As the petals steeped, the tea emitted a heady aroma of sweet florals, dark spice, and a hint of decay.
Its effects were potent because the Soulbloom's absorbed soul essence resonated with the drinker's own mana, amplifying their magical abilities, inducing relaxation, or unlocking hidden memories and experiences. While it was deadly to mortals and hazardous to professionals who didn't know how to handle its dark mana, its true purpose was as a soul poison. However, to the undead, it was a euphoric experience, offering subtle nuances that only they could appreciate.
Norris detected the subtle interplay of mana scents within these tea houses, as the undead engaged in intense debates and discussions on various subjects, from necromancy and demonology to philosophy and the arts. The atmosphere was one of refined elegance, with the undead sipping their tea from delicate, ornate cups, their movements precise and calculated.
As he delved deeper into the city, Norris began to appreciate the unique blend of desolation and academic rigor that defined Erebo. Despite the numbness of their souls, the undead inhabitants of this city had created a culture that valued knowledge, wisdom, and elegance, a culture that continued to thrive despite the passage of eternity.
Norris recalled his previous life where watching necromancers reanimate skeletons was cool, even if they weren't really useful or were kind of slow. In the real world, Norris never did that, and most necromancers didn't. There were two types of undead: those from the Death Realm and others. Undead from the Death Realm were usually non-sentient until they reached sublimation. Other sources of undead could vary. Most necromancers, in need of undead, summoned them from the Death Realm instead. However, this also varied and depended on luck, unless one had signed a contract with a specific undead. Most mentor necromancers passed on their knowledge along with the ritual to summon an undead that was either befriended or subdued, to their disciples. Norris didn't like the uncertainty that resembled gambling with one's life, and he didn't have a mentor to introduce him. This shaped Norris's fighting style.
Determined to overcome the challenges he faced, Norris set out to explore Erebo's libraries and scriptoriums, seeking out tomes and knowledge. He hoped to uncover new insights and techniques that would allow him to better master the dark arts of necromancy.
Norris's eyes scanned the shelves of the library, his fingers trailing over the spines of ancient tomes. He had devoured the basic texts on necromancy, but he knew that true mastery required a deeper understanding of the underlying principles.
As a modern man, Norris had found it relatively easy to grasp the physical aspects of necromancy. The study of the body, its functions, and its limitations was familiar territory, thanks to the extensive education in his previous life. While the addition of vitality, the innate magic belonging to all creatures in the world, added a lot of mystical meaning to the organs, it didn't affect him much as his memory was far superior to his previous life, helping him master theoretical knowledge with ease. However, the spiritual aspects of necromancy, particularly the study of the soul's relation to life and death, were far more obscure.
Norris's research had revealed a disturbing lack of knowledge on this subject. Whatever the reason, Norris knew that he had to push beyond the boundaries of current knowledge. He needed to understand the soul's role in the grand dance of life and death, and how to manipulate it to create more powerful, more resilient undead creatures.
To combat this problem, Norris decided to check out for the basics and any extra source of free info that can be found in the library before going to get real information by exchanging resources, information etc. Norris's eyes locked onto a single, ancient tome on the library's shelves: "Liber Animus". Its presence seemed almost deliberate, as if waiting for him to uncover the secrets hidden within its worn pages. With a sense of trepidation, Norris secured a seat, prepared his book ready to read and write. As he opens the book, he was stunned by what he saw.