Chapter 947: Chapter 709: A Death Worthwhile
Harvey spent his childhood in an orphanage, surrounded by ogres, beastn, and goblins.
From the composition of these races, it was evident that his orphanage in Kaimon City was of a lower middle tier—using the guise of ‘diversity’ rely to deceive for subsidies.
Clearly, his childhood was quite joyous, with entertainnt freedom (no oversight), complete harmony with other children (physically), daily social practice (stealing food), and enjoying the best education (online educational resources). However, unlike Fernand, who rose from the mud unstained and later beca mayor, Harvey did not escape this mire, but neither did he turn bad; he started working at a construction site after leaving the orphanage at fifteen.
Yes, Kaimon City, under the Blood Moon, feared for its top assassin ‘control master,’ Harvey—destined to transform the Kingdom of Gospel into a realm of necromancy, known as the ‘Ghost King,’ and renowned as the ‘Ghost Knight’ of Senluo Wasteland—began as simply a construction site dog. He worked there for three years before a sickly beautiful youth turned dark and tan from the sun.
Unlike other workers who would spend money on sugary thrills, lose money at casinos, or seek pleasures in tea cafes, Harvey diligently saved his earnings for a down paynt, intending soday to buy a house in the suburbs. When reflecting back, Harvey finds his younger self quite peculiar—why bother purchasing real estate? Blood Moonians predominantly rent, not just because purchasing is expensive, but also because they, singular by nature, crave no stable ho.
Wherever you sleep tonight, there is ho.
Perhaps it was seeing those luxurious warm mansions in movies or the fact he built many houses while mixing cent, a peculiar obsession deep-rooted in his mind: he desired a house to call his own.
Harvey would usually flip through renovation magazines and architecture books to pass ti, planning how to decorate his future house, what materials to use, what design style, wiring plans, and so forth… He even occasionally picked up side gigs as a renovation worker, steadily accumulating experience towards his new ho.
While other renovation workers exchanged flirtatious glances with charming female hoowners, he pondered whether a ceiling was too excessive.
His coworkers dubbed him odd, since everyone only thought of where to play that evening while he considered life ten, twenty years later—whether he’d even be alive then was uncertain; Blood Moonians are always so optimistic.
Barring unforeseen circumstances, as long as Harvey avoided all consumption traps, achieving this small goal remained possible.
Yet, life defied reason. That night’s security guard requested leave, so Harvey volunteered to work the night shift for extra cash. Sitting quietly in the security room reading a magazine, strange sounds emanated from the site. Upon investigation, he spotted a shadowy figure under the Blood Moon, a dark-clad maiden slashing at a motionless corpse on the ground.
Harvey observed quietly from the side as the maiden turned sharply to face him, her ponytail flipping back. She approached, pushing Harvey onto the ground, and leaned in, pressing a curved blade against his throat, commanding assertively, “Help handle the corpse!”
Harvey knew neither her na Narbel nor whom she killed, nor what organization she belonged to, but his heart stirred, responding, “So I’m your accomplice now.”
That was Harvey’s first ti dealing with a corpse, and it was the most crude attempt. Perhaps due to this encounter, after following Narbel into the organization, Harvey beca a scavenger, tasked specifically with corpse disposal.
At that ti, he hadn’t exhibited any necromancy faction talents yet, but he worked earnestly. He developed over thirty formulas for reagents, each for handling different environnts of bloodstains, excrent, shredded flesh, and other corpse residues. Any scene he handled, even Blood Frenzy Hunters could not detect traces.
Until one day in an alley, while dealing with a corpse, a wild necromancer found Harvey’s dedication towards corpses downright striking, taking Harvey as his pupil. Thus, Harvey stepped into the mage’s world.
He gradually evolved from scavenger to control master, still retaining scavenger duties—finishing kills followed imdiately by disposal, offering comprehensive services from death to deep sea.
Harvey and Narbel frequently perford tasks together, but they rarely conversed. Narbel tried initiating topics, but Harvey often responded with silent indifference, struggling to present any viewpoints—he indeed lacked much education, and humor.
Harvey’s only interests were corpse blotches and his new ho, which left Narbel silent, yet she’d listen to Harvey talk about future ho renovations and which corpse blotches looked best…
Peaceful days ended when Harvey was spotted during an operation, and information leaked to Blood Frenzy Hunters. Continuing to evade would jeopardize the organization, so Harvey erased his ‘control master’ mory. Regrettably caught as a scavenger by Blood Frenzy Hunters, he was sent to Shattered Lake Prison.
Human lives invariably journey toward death; a person’s value hinges on the worth of their death.
This is a necromancer’s saying. Necromancers are a rather gloomy bunch; perhaps from gazing at death all day, death gazes silently in return, even occasionally patting them on the head. Yet, necromancers maintain positivity, staunchly opposing suicide and fatalism, firmly asserting ‘only corpses striving to live to the end hold higher value.’
Harvey knew entering Shattered Lake spelled inevitable doom, yet, he remained unconcerned, never caring despite anything throughout life. With the sole heartbeat for that maiden who asked him to recover corpses, dying to protect her also felt worthwhile.
Two years passed until Harvey realized he hadn’t safeguarded anything. Thus, he aid to escape alongside Ash, refusing to stay in Shattered Lake, unwilling to die worthless.
Dying worthwhile had beco the only matter he cared for anymore.
Harvey imagined his demise countless tis, dying in a prison break, dying in revenge, dying fleeing, dying in Gospel, perishing to avenge Hanna, dying storming Yisu’s palace, falling in combat against Silver Lamp…
The end result? Dying at the final step of returning ho, truly reflective of necromancer endings…
… Ho?
Heh, bla Ash for incessantly talking about ho, tricking into almost believing…
I had one too.
Harvey felt himself sinking ever deeper into the Deep Sea, turning his head, noticing a black corpse dragon draped in a veil of mist. Its veil shimred, resembling a starry sky cloaked on its body, its black form imnse and majestic, yet upon closer look revealed its body was nearly comprised of chains.
Misty Corpse Prison Dragon.
While studying necromancy, this dragon frequently appeared to aid Harvey, even possessing Alice, allowing him to accelerate Ghost King Chains developnt to Blood Moon Corpse King in re months.
He never understood why Misty Corpse Prison Dragon helped him, but didn’t care. Seeing it now, Harvey subtly grasped, “My soul cannot go to hell; it belongs to you?”
“I’d wish to wait in hell for those two guys, but… They won’t co down so soon.”
“Then yours it shall be,” Harvey softly spoke, “This ti, I suppose I’ve…”
“Died worthwhile.”
Misty Corpse Prison Dragon unfurled its wings of death, gently enveloping Harvey within.
User Comments
0 comments from readers