Rebirth: Necromancer's Ascenscion

It's been two days since the Sanctum boy stumbled into Esgard's inner square.

Spoke his message.

They found him dead three hours later—heart exploded from the inside, eyes turned to glass.

No one buried him.

---

Now, in the highest tower of the capital, with cold sunlight slicing through the stained glass, the Hollow Council gathered.

Ten thrones circled the obsidian table, though only eight were filled. The seat marked Diplomacy remained untouched. The Sanctum seat remained cloaked in white cloth, veiled in the same silence they had left behind.

And at the head of it all, half-shadowed by the dying light, sat Ian.

Coat draped over his throne like smoke. Pale knuckles resting on the carved bone armrest.

Eyes half-lidded, watching. Calculating.

"Two days," Thalia Virex said, placing a parchment scroll onto the table.

Her voice rasped like a hinge too long un-oiled.

"Two days and panic's already catching fire in the lower wards. Markets are thinning. Wagons going east. No one's saying it aloud, but they know. Something's coming."

"I'll tell you what's coming, a beast tide," General Aenys Drael said flatly. The man wore his iron chestplate even in council, sword leaning beside his chair.

He had the look of someone who hadn't slept in three days.

"From Blackblood." He added.

"That's impossible," Velmira Saan cut in. Her polished rings clicked as she set down a goblet of dark wine. "Beast tides don't start this early. The migrations don't shift until the spring mana thaws."

"They do now," Caelen said. His voice was low and steady, like a boulder halfway down a mountain.

"Scouts confirmed it. D-rank and C-rank traces on the northern ridge. Footprints. Drag marks. Half a dozen fresh corpses."

He slid a blood-smeared map across the table. Ian didn't blink.

"Hazard rank," Serel Vaunt murmured, peering over his glasses. "Frostbite Wyrms. Flame Howlers. Even a Gutterborn Ghoul. That one doesn't leave the Forest unless something's driving it."

"That's just it," Caelen said. "This isn't natural."

A pause.

No one interrupted.

Because the Blackblood Forest didn't move unless it had reason.

And this wasn't a migration.

This was an evacuation.

"They're running," Caelen continued. "Every predator from F to B-rank—packing up, moving west. Toward us. Which means something behind them is pushing."

Velmira leaned back slowly. "And you're sure this isn't the Empire's doing?"

"That's the question, isn't it?" Thalia said, looking at Ian now. "Whether this is a punishment from the Imperial City… or a message from the Sanctum."

"Does it matter?" General Drael growled. "We're not ready for this. If the first wave hits before our walls are reinforced, we'll lose the outer city within days. Weeks if we're lucky."

"You assume we should build walls," said Serel quietly.

All eyes turned.

The Archmage scratched his ink-stained chin. "If we fortify and wait, we force a siege. And if this is a true tide, the backline will include B and A-rank threats. Some of them can climb. Others dig. One Void Howler can tunnel through half a district before we know we're bleeding."

He paused.

"Walls won't save us. Not against a Calamity-class beast. They'll just trap the survivors inside."

"Then we go out," Caelen said. "We fight it before it reaches the gates."

"And lose how many men in the woods?" Velmira countered. "Blackblood doesn't favor the brave. It kills them."

A heavy silence returned.

And finally, Ian spoke.

"We're not doing either."

His voice didn't rise.

But it carved through the chamber all the same.

Thalia's eyes narrowed. "Then what are we doing?"

Ian stood.

He reached out and touched the map. Light flared across it—runes igniting like wildfire across the paper. Paths unfolded. Mana signatures blinked like pulses.

"The Forest has always been volatile. But never coordinated. You're all right—this isn't a migration. And it's not just monsters panicking. It's intentional."

He paused.

"There's a hand behind this."

"Imperial?" Serel asked.

"Maybe," Ian said. "But not likely. Esgard's too useful to burn. And a tide of this scale would risk a breach in the west—right through the Pale Expanse. No, this isn't about conquest."

"Then it's the Sanctum," said Caelen.

Ian's eyes darkened.

"It has their smell. Desperation. Doctrine. Sacrifice."

"They'd risk destroying the city just to fulfill some prophecy?" Velmira scoffed.

"You've seen their work," Ian said. "Faith doesn't fear fire. Just lights it."

Another silence.

Then Serel leaned forward. "So what's your plan, Sovereign?"

Ian tapped a circle on the edge of the map. "We'll send a vanguard—small, mobile. Two dozen of our best. Find the source. If there's a core leading this migration, a central alpha or spiritual beacon, we cut it down. Fast and quiet."

"And if there isn't one?"

Ian looked up.

"Then we make one."

They stared at him.

"You want to redirect a beast tide?" Velmira said, incredulous.

"If we can't stop it," Ian said, "we steer it. Pull it east. Into the wastelands. Burn the terrain behind them so they don't circle back. Use mana-salted traps. Funnel them. Starve them."

Thalia exhaled. "We don't have the resources."

"You will," Ian said. "Drael—draw half your forward units and prepare logistics for a month of sustained combat. No more drills. Real deployments. Serel, you'll provide suppression charms and mana bait. I want no less than three decoy cores crafted in the next ten days."

"And the city?" Velmira asked.

Ian turned his eyes on her.

"Seal the Crucible. Arm the outer wards. Evacuate the outermost three rings. House the poor in the noble districts if you must. No one dies in the street while we plan."

She blinked, taken off guard.

Ian continued. "The people will fight for us, if they know we're fighting for them."

And for a moment—

Just a moment—

There was no arguing.

Only the weight of what came next.

A month.

One month before the first shadows reached their walls.

One month before the Forest broke open and bled monsters into their world.

They weren't ready.

But they would be.

---

After the council adjourned, Ian stood alone at the top of the tower again. The wind was colder than usual.

Blackblood Forest loomed on the horizon. A distant line of dark that seemed to breathe, slow and heavy.

Eli approached, quietly.

"They're coming," Ian murmured.

Eli stood beside him.

"Yeah."

"You think we'll survive?"

"I don't know," Eli said. "But we'll give them hell trying."