The Necromancer Commands Slaves, Not Undeads

0 – Reincarnation

I looked at the corpse lying on the bed. The corpse was none other than the old woman who had taken care of me. Looking at her serene expression, I couldn’t help but imagine that she was merely in a deep sleep, dreaming.

The old woman died of old age. She left the world peacefully, without illness or accident. I thought it was fortunate that her death was so gentle.

“Rest peacefully in the afterlife,”

The old hut felt particularly empty today.

I was a penniless orphan who begged for metal scraps in the slums of Elia, a large city nearby. However, the old woman picked me up despite my situation, deciding to make me her assistant.

She simply told me she was aging and mobility was becoming difficult for her when I asked why. The specifics are not clear anymore.

The old woman was a magician. I learned many things under her. I learned how to mend the tattered robes, to wash dishes and laundry, to separate magical materials, to support the elderly, and to cook, among others.

As a magician’s assistant, I learned everything except magic.

Regrettably, the eccentric old lady never once taught me magic.

But I wasn’t discontented. I saw her as a benefactor.

I learned enough from her to be able to live on my own somehow.

Confirming her death, I hurriedly prepared to make her gravesite in the nearby forest according to her wishes.

She knew the day she would die. Her once velvety skin had felt particularly cold to the touch. I carefully cleaned her corpse with a handkerchief and changed her into white clothing.

The prepared coffin in the living room was filled with her body, which I securely tied with a rope.

I was just a 13-year-old boy. There were no adults to help me heft the heavy coffin. Although it was a dirty task, I had no choice but to transport what I could.

I pulled the old woman’s body to a nearby forest for an hour, and once I arrived, I went back to the hut to gather the things she cherished during her life and headed back to the forest.

As the sun reached its peak, I realized I had to dig the grave before sunset.

I was at least lucky that the ground was softer due to the recent rain; if the ground was hard, it would have taken longer.

I dug fiercely into the earth. I did not stop until both my hands and clothes were caked in dirt, and I was drenched in sweat.

After about three hours, I dug up enough dirt to accommodate the old woman’s coffin and still be left with some. I moved both the coffin and her belongings into the pit then piled the dirt back on top.

I used a crude pole and wooden board to hastily make a tombstone on that spot.

[May 8, 1202 Imperial Era. Eccentric magician Reed White. Rests here.]

“Thank you for everything.”

After a short moment of silence, I collected the shovel and returned home.

Even after constructing her grave, I busily tidied up. Sorting and disposing of her belongings were now my task.

She was a magician and there were many valuable items. Starting from materials like a manticore’s tooth to specially engineered potion flasks to a magic ring that wards off diseases.

If all sold, they would fetch close to 100 gold.

I sorted out items to sell in the city and those that I would use myself into boxes.

By the time I finished all of it, the evening had already arrived.

Considering how busy I had been throughout the day, I realized I hadn’t eaten anything. My starving stomach began its protest.

I was about to walk to the kitchen when… Knock, Knock, Knock. Someone had knocked on the door of the hut.

“Who is it?”

The only people who had business with such a shack were either wanderers or bandits. As I answered cautiously, the noise outside disappeared.

I peeked outside the window while maintaining my guard, but no one was standing in front of the entrance. Curious, I opened the door.

A well-wrapped parcel caught my eye on the doorstep. Something bulging inside indicated that something had been placed.

I…He ripped open the package right there and then. And what it contained was none other than a smartphone.

“This is a smartphone, huh…?”

How did I know the name of this tool I was seeing for the first time? The moment that question arose, a ringing head pain ensued.

Overwhelmed by the sudden headache, I grimaced, dropped the smartphone from my grip, and fell to my knees, groaning softly. In the brief span of the persisting headache, I stayed still, focusing only on my breathing.

The headache was caused by the flood of memories that were rushing back into my mind. The headache subsided after a few seconds, but I remained dazed in place for a while longer.

That was when I recalled my previous life.