Sarah's POV
The necromancer's hideout turned out to be a cave — or rather, a fortress carved into stone. From the outside, it looked like nothing more than a dark hole in the cliffside, but inside, it pulsed with foul mana. I suppressed my presence and slipped into the shadows.
Undead skeletons patrolled the perimeter, their bones clattering softly as they moved. A few of them were skeleton knights — stronger, more intact, and carrying rusted weapons. The deeper I went, the clearer it became: this necromancer wasn't just playing with corpses. He was building an army.
When I finally reached the inner chambers, I saw the kidnapped girls. They weren't sacrifices — they were being groomed to serve the necromancer, forced to decorate his lair like a mock throne room. It could have been worse, but the fear in their eyes told me enough.
I waited until the necromancer left the room, then dropped silently from the ceiling. The girls gasped, but I placed a finger to my lips.
"Quiet," I whispered.
There were ten of them in total — too many to carry at once. So I moved two at a time, replacing them with mana puppets made in their likeness. That way, the necromancer wouldn't notice they were gone.
Once I'd rescued them all, I contacted Arthur through our link. The girls are safe. The necromancer's all yours.
He and his team stormed the fortress soon after. From my vantage point, I could see his glowing figure cutting through the undead — each "hero slash" bursting with purifying light. The knights under the necromancer's command fell one after another. The necromancer himself, barely a stage four cultivator, began to panic.
Desperate, he dragged the girls from their cage — except they weren't girls. They were my puppets.
The moment he tried to use them as hostages, they turned on him, attacking with blessed daggers. Every time he destroyed one, it exploded in a burst of golden purification light, taking his undead soldiers with it.
By the time the last puppet reached him, the necromancer was already on the ground, his half-rotten body smoking from holy light. The final puppet plunged its dagger straight into his chest.
As the necromancer's soul unraveled, so too did his army. The fortress fell silent.
Then Arthur's voice echoed in my head, sounding somewhere between impressed and irritated.
"What did you do, Sarah? I thought I was supposed to kill the necromancer."
I replied calmly, "You did kill the necromancer."
"Are you joking right now?"
I sighed inwardly. "What I mean is — officially, you're the one who killed him and saved the kidnapped girls. When you report back to the guild, don't mention me."
He groaned.
"So you kill the necromancer, rescue everyone, and still want me to take the credit?"
A small smile tugged at my lips. My voice, however, stayed perfectly flat.
"Of course. You can even share the glory with your friends. Say it with me — 'Look at us, the brave heroes of Ashbourne, fighting for glory and justice.'"
He sighed again, long and tired.
"This is why I never know if you're joking or being serious."
"Goodbye, Arthur," I said, standing and brushing off my cloak. "If anyone asks, tell them I'm your sister. Technically, that's not a lie."
With that, I turned and left.
By the time I reached Riverstead, the sun was setting. I finally made it to the pastry shop I'd been wanting to visit — the one I'd missed because of Arthur's "urgent" call. I ordered one of everything and a strong coffee.
The first bite melted on my tongue.
Worth it, I thought. Completely worth it.