A Sense of Ceremony

Outside the ancient castle cloaked in darkness, two agile silhouettes were climbing the wall by rope. Though Dahei and Erha were inveterate swindlers, their skills were undeniably sharp. Without breaking a sweat, they had picked the path with the fewest magical traps, disarmed the perimeter alarms, vaulted the outer wall, and lodged their grappling hook at the top of the tower. All they had to do was scale this final wall to reach the castle tower, from where they could explore their way down. The brothers intended merely to make a quick loop inside, dash off a slapdash sketch of a map, and flee. They had never wanted to embark on this venture in the first place, but those paladins had escorted them right to the edge of Anbaixiu's territory and drawn their bows, forcing them forward. To make matters worse, the paladins had tampered with them somehow; any attempt to run would likely bring their captors down upon them in short order. Spells of the light domain were well known for tracking effects. Thus, there was no faking the infiltration. Their only recourse was to cut the expedition as short as possible. Though confident in their own abilities, both Dahei and Erha shuddered at the mere mention of the name Tiga Ultraman. That was a legendary lich—and one who had swindled and tormented them within an inch of their lives, leaving them thoroughly traumatized. Had they known the target was this monster, they would have demanded ten times the pay. As it stood, they were taking an enormous loss, with their very lives on the line. All they could do was pray that the lich was tucked away in his vault counting gold coins and wouldn't notice their intrusion. The brothers swore to every god in existence that they wouldn't take so much as a pebble; they would leave a few footprints and be on their way. Unfortunately, the gods did not favor them. *"Caw! Caw! Caw! Caw!"* Erha's raven suddenly shrieked, startling the two brothers mid-climb. Erha knew full well that his beast companion would never cry out without reason—it had definitely spotted danger. He looked up at his bird, only to see it wheeling in a bizarre, frantic flight path. "Below? What's down there?" Erha understood the raven's warning and peered downward. With just a single glance, his limbs turned to jelly. "What is it?" Dahei muttered, also looking down. The sight made his hands jolt, nearly losing his grip on the rope. It was a terrifying colossus. A giant several meters tall, clad in heavy black armor. Where its head should have been was empty air, save for a constantly shifting plume of dark purple light. "Is that... a Headless Horseman?!" Erha gasped in shock. Dahei hurriedly hissed, "Have you ever seen a Headless Horseman this big? That's a fucking hill giant!" Erha followed his brother's logic. "Then it's a hill giant that had its head chopped off and got turned into a Headless Horseman!" Dahei opened his mouth to reply, only to see the Headless Horseman below draw a long blade. He panicked. "Fuck, it saw us! Quick... clim—" The final word dropped to an inaudible whisper. A somber blade had already swept past Dahei's neck, lopping off his head. Dahei couldn't fathom how the blade could have reached his throat across a distance of at least fifteen meters. And so swift, so silent—there hadn't even been the whistle of a swing through the air. In his final moments, only one thought crossed Dahei's mind: *Fuck, that potion supposed to save our lives was a dud. Those paladins scammed us.* What Erha saw, however, was entirely different. When the blade struck, three flashes of magical light had erupted around Dahei. Armor of Agathys, Stoneskin, and Shield had all indeed triggered, yet none could arrest the dark, unassuming edge, failing to stall the long blade for even half a second. As Dahei's head tumbled through the air, Erha found himself plunging alongside his brother's headless corpse. That single slash had not only severed Dahei's neck, but had cleaved clean through both of their climbing ropes. A strike of monstrous precision, savagery, and horror. Before Erha could even mourn his brother's death, heavy chains coiled tightly around his body. It turned out the long blade had been hurled on a chain. After decapitating Dahei, it had whipped around Erha twice as though alive, binding him fast. Armor of Agathys, Stoneskin, and Shield flared automatically to life, yet the triple magical defense was equally powerless to save Erha. The thick chain snapped taut in midair amid a spray of blood. Erha was severed clean in half at the waist, his eyes already closed before he hit the ground. Only then did Anbaixiu rush over, appearing beside Headless Bro. "Brother Tiga, you're just in time. Caught two infiltrators," Headless Bro remarked with no small amount of pride. Headless Bro genuinely regarded Anbaixiu as a brother to protect now; the moment he detected an intrusion, he had decisively dispatched both intruders. Before the might of a legendary powerhouse, no defensive magic stood a chance. Surveying the butchered remains strewn across the ground, Anbaixiu couldn't help but sigh. "Gareth, next time you run into small fry like this, try to leave them in one piece." "What's wrong? You running short on bones?" Headless Bro assumed Anbaixiu needed their bodies to raise undead. Anbaixiu shook his head. "The Speak with Dead spell requires the corpse to be mostly intact. Decapitated and bisected simply won't do." Speak with Dead was one of the most classic necromantic spells. It briefly bound the deceased's soul back to the corpse, compelling it to answer questions. Under normal circumstances, one could pose five questions, and the dead were incapable of lying. Anbaixiu wanted to know why these two had suddenly crept toward his castle, and whether those paladins were scheming something. With the corpses mangled beyond repair, however, casting Speak with Dead was out of the question. Headless Bro looked somewhat embarrassed. "Ah, I forgot. Magic isn't really my strong suit; I completely forgot about Speak with Dead." Naturally, Anbaixiu wouldn't fault his dutiful companion. He offered an easy word of comfort. "It's fine. I'll just turn them into undead. It's only a bit more troublesome." Anbaixiu summoned a multitude of Mage Hands, gathering up the corpses of Dahei and Erha and carrying them to his laboratory. Looking at the reassembled bodies, Anbaixiu was struck by an odd sensation. It felt as though this was the first time he had ever crafted undead through such traditional methods. Ever since advancing to the legendary rank and obtaining the Simulated Soul ability, his skeletal forces had all relied on simulated souls in place of living spirits. Furthermore, even the remains had been scavenged from the battlefield of the beast war. *Absurd. If the other members of the Elegy Poetry Society ever found out, they'd laugh at me for centuries.* With a strange mix of amusement and novelty, Anbaixiu began stitching the two bodies together, setting out on his very first attempt at traditional necromancy. Since it was his first time, it called for a sense of ceremony. He might as well turn both of them into high-tier undead.