Grandson Of The Holy Emperor Is A Necromancer

All thirty holy undead rushed in and prevented the vampire from moving ever again. The Priest slowly walked over to the downed vampire while slowly taking off Amon’s skull.

He raised a musket rifle with one hand, and began breathing deeply into the weapon’s loading chamber.

– N-no! Spare me, please! Uwaaahk!

The vampire cried out.

It mustn’t! It must not come face to face with that thing!

That bastard, he…!

A shadow loomed over the vampire’s face currently sprawled on the ground in an unsightly manner.

The Vampire Count tried raising its head up, but the Priest stomped down on it first.

The monster’s eyes shot open wider.

This Priest turned out to be a mere boy, someone even younger than anyone could have imagined. Even at a stretch, the boy in front of its eyes couldn’t have been older than fifteen, maybe sixteen years old at most.

However, he was definitely no ordinary human. The expression on the young priest’s face was more sinister and cruel than any other devil in existence.

His eyes, his lips… they were smiling.

This devil, seemingly filled with madness, slowly opened his mouth.

“In the name of the father, the son, and the holy ghost…”

The barrel lined up right in front of the vampire’s eyes. This indescribably horrifying and ominous divinity began coalescing in the weapon again.

And then…

“Hey, mister vampire. Merry Christmas. Give my regards to Gaia when you reach hell, okay?”

The boy priest said some things that could either be construed as pure blasphemy or words of exaltation for the goddess, and then firmly squeezed the trigger.

**

December 25th.

The morning sun was steadily rising up in the sky.

Warm sunlight drove out the effects of the Negative Field and ushered in the aura of the Positive Field. The fog filled with demonic energy still lingered. However, even that added to the feeling of staring at a beautiful snowy field emitting a gentle light.

A convict stabbed his sword on the ground to support himself. While breathing heavily, he took a look at his surroundings.

He could no longer see any undead beyond the outer walls. Those infernal creatures had all scattered away. The only remaining undead were the ones slowly melting down within the ‘lake’ made out of holy water.

Various levels of fluster filled up the faces of the convicts and the soldiers. However, this only lasted for a brief moment and their expressions soon began quivering next.

The corners of their lips trembled. Convulsions broke out on the muscles surrounding their eyes.

And finally…

“We… We won!!!”

The feudal lord Jenald forced his hand up and declared their victory, despite having trouble moving that very arm.

“Ah… Ah, ah…!”

“I… made it.”

“I’m alive!!!”

Every single one of the soldiers and convicts roared out in celebration. Even the citizens of the Ronia territory as well as the refugees from other villages also cried out loudly, their cheers filled with unbridled happiness.

Despite staggering somewhat, Harman continued to move. But when he got to the centre of Ronia fortress, which now resembled a devastated and empty plain, his eyes nearly popped out of their sockets.

…Because, he witnessed several undead ‘knights’ made out of pure light standing still in the centre. Unfortunately, this scene only lasted for a second. They vanished by scattering away as light particles.

On this desolate and ruined empty land, one boy could be seen supported by a girl. An unconscious man was also laying on the ground, too.

Finally…

“The vampire…?!”

Starting from its head, Harman could see the vampire slowly turning into ashes and scattering away in the winds.

The Paladin clamped his mouth shut and shifted his gaze back to the Imperial Prince. The boy, while being supported by the silver-haired girl, was sleeping like a dead log, a satisfied grin etched on his face.

**

On a hill not too far from Ronia fortress.

The Theocratic Empire dispatched its most elite legion, the ‘Holy Cross Knight Order’ after sensing that something ominous was afoot in the northern region from the unlikely report of no undead being sighted in the Land of the Dead Spirits for the past month or so.

And only on the morning of the 25th did they finally manage to reach their destination, Ronia.

An old man stood tall in front of the troops and while staring at the fortress, he muttered with a disinterested expression.

“…Are we already too late?”

He was outfitted in a set of armour so thick that it bordered on being excessively hulking. Quite unlike the scale of the white armour he was wearing, though, the old man’s body under all those layers of protection was on the thin side.

“It seems so, my lord.”

“I was wondering what was going on. When I heard that a strange phenomenon was afoot in the Land of the Dead Spirits, I feared the revival of the Necromancer King had occurred, but…” The old man narrowed his eyes as he took in the sight of Ronia fortress. “It was nothing more than some measly little prank of a vampire?”

Ronia fortress was mostly made up of convicts and civilians. So the vampire failing to overrun such a fortress could only mean that the creature in question didn’t possess all that much power, to begin with.

‘I do not know how the vampire managed to command twenty thousand undead, but that must have been the extent of its powers since it couldn’t even win against the Sacrificial Castle. However…’

“…That is indeed a bizarre aura.”

The old man had been sensing a certain aura for a while, long before he and the army reached this location. This aura could’ve only come about from the chaos caused by the collision of powerful divinity and demonic energy.

This phenomenon seemed to indicate that the vampire must’ve wielded a considerably great amount of demonic energy. It also indicated that a person wielding equally powerful divinity had fought off that very undead.

Since the entirety of the fortress was cheering raucously of their victory, that unknown person of considerable divinity must’ve killed the vampire off in the end.

The old man stared at Ronia fortress while muttering to no one in particular, “…Did a Saint descend here or something?”

A god breaking off a fragment of themselves to give birth to an existence, all for the purpose of their entertainment – such beings were called Saints, or Saintesses.

Since they couldn’t remember or weren’t aware of the reasons for their existence, almost none of them had any inklings of who they were.

“It would be nice if that’s indeed the case.”

The war between vampires and humanity had persisted for the past several millennia.

As time continued to pass, the forces of the undead monsters began finding craftier and craftier ways to infiltrate the society of the living. So, it would be great to have a figure like a Saint or Saintess acting as the rallying point in the ongoing efforts to stop those monsters.

The old man smiled wryly.

He was beginning to hold baseless hopes as his own demise crept ever closer. The death of a single vampire couldn’t possibly herald the advent of a new Saint after all.

“Dispatch the Priests, healers and apothecaries to the fortress. Prioritise healing the citizens, and when they are finished doing that, give the convicts the opportunity to survive.”

It didn’t matter whether or not the convicts and slaves were killed off. However, the safety of the regular citizens here still worried the old man.

“Understood, your majesty.”

The Paladin replied and bowed deeply.

“We shall head back,” the old man said while turning around. He mounted a sturdy warhorse just as another Paladin addressed him.

“…But your majesty, the Seventh Imperial Prince should be there as well.”

He was asking if the old man wanted to stop by and meet the boy before leaving.

However, the old man’s expression crumbled at that inquiry. He glared at the Paladin as if he had run into a mortal enemy. “I don’t have any reason to see a foolish child who keeps insulting the memories of his own mother. Without a doubt, he must’ve been hiding within the feudal lord’s residence, cowering away in fear.”

It’d be a relief if the boy didn’t sh*t his pants during the chaos.

“We’re leaving. I’ll listen to Harman’s report on that subject matter at a later stage. Summon him back to the Imperial Palace so that I can grill him for more detailed information.”

“Understood, your majesty.”

Indeed, this old man was none other than the Holy Emperor of the Theocratic Empire, the great hero who killed Necromancer King Amon fifty years ago.

Kelt Olfolse took one last look at Ronia fortress before setting off.

“My rotten little grandson.”

Holy Emperor Kelt Olfolse made his way back to the imperial palace. About two weeks later, Paladin Harman showed up to submit his account of what happened.

Inside the imperial audience chamber so huge that it could qualify as a royal castle on its own right, Harman bowed deeply towards Holy Emperor Kelt Olfolse sitting on the throne.

The Paladin then opened his mouth.

“His highness the Imperial Prince was the one who hunted the Vampire Count, your majesty.”

The Holy Emperor’s mouth clamped shut after hearing this.

< 26. Merry Christmas! -5 (Part One and Two) > Fin.