“This-”


    There was more the withering necromancer wanted to say, but could not seem to find the appropriate words. His large eyes occasionally darted between Sage and the encased body, his mind likely trying to comprehend to scene he had been presented with.


    “He’s been in there since that day,” she explained. “Back then I lacked the capability to bring him back.”


    Her words snapped the old man out of his stupor and he gaze came to rest solely on her. “You are theeking to bring him back, as in [Rethurrection]?”


    “If possible, yes,” she admitted. “But we both know that is not a viable option. The Sheans guard the spell model for [Resurrection] even more fiercely than they do their healing spells. He was on his last legs anyway, so bringing him back as he was might not be optimal. The best way would be if I could bring him back as an intelligent undead with his memories intact. However-”


    She paused here, allowing the unsaid words to ring between them.


    Vanus scratched his hairless chin for several seconds in contemplation before delivering his reply; compounded with a shake of the head. “It’th impothible. He hath been dead for too long.”


    Creating and intelligent undead and bringing someone back from the dead; in both cases these phenomena became impossible after three days. According to the Cryptmaker, after that much time passes, the soul leaves the body, completely cutting off their connection. If one attempted to resurrect a corpse after more than three days, nothing would happen. If they tried to make an undead of said corpse, it would be mindless.


    Sage obviously knew this and had gotten the response she expected. Even so, she had grasped at the tiny probability of a different response and tried her luck.


    Yes, Vanus thought it impossible to bring back an individual after three days. It was most certainly the general concession regarding the matter in Rekke.


    But she was not convinced.


    There were things that were impossible for certain people, that she believed. However, impossibility in general? That was something she had shaken off a while back when she met that arsehole in the Abyss. Since then, she had experienced a new world and met creatures considered myth in her old one; all the while learning to wield of force the old her would never have believed actually existed. Yes, in this world magic existed. In Sage’s opinion if that was real, then anything was possible!


    Unfortunately, this turned out to be a dead end. She could not help the sigh of disappointment that escaped her. It would probably be a while before she came upon useful information.


    Suddenly, the old fart perked up. He opened his mouth, paused, shut it, opened it again and repeated the process. Then he held up his hand before he rushed back to the shelves and frantically rummaged through items placed there. Sage watched him for several minutes before he found what he was look for, releasing a triumphant squeak as he came away with a sheet of paper that had swum in too many liquids. Vanus marched back and slapped it on the table, exposing a what appeared to be a pirate symbol; except instead of bones crossing underneath the skull, it was knives.


    “What is this?”  she could not help asking. Who made this tasteless design?


    “An invitation,” the necromancer answered. “I retheived it a while back, but I don’t plan on going. Even forgot about it.”


    Sage looked at the paper, noting the words scribbled beneath the faux pirate sign. A date and place; a little over a month from now in a city named Burth, which she had never heard of.


    “An invitation to what exactly?” she asked, returning her gaze to the old man.


    “The Umbral Banquet, the first in over three centuries.”


    The Umbral Banquet, she repeated internally, thoughtfully.


    Apparently, its origins dated back to the Gloom, where Harvesters- priests of the fallen Vatran- gathered to discuss what would happen next. The gathering had concluded with the Dark Lord showing up and declaring his intention, setting off the darkest period of the age.


    The Banquets that had followed though, had been necromancers sharing knowledge and discussing alliances or some grand endeavour that had often resulted in one or more kingdoms falling.


    The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    “What could I hope to gain at such a useless event?” she frowned.


    There was a reason why the event had not been called in so long. The Banquet, which had originally featured the Dark Lord announcing his intention to succeed his father, had gradually become a farce where everyone tried to upstage each other. The most prevalent occurrences at those events were arguments that often ended with the death of one party, on the positive side; or descended in an all-out brawl between all parties. Over time, more accomplished necromancers stopped showing up because they considered the whole thing a mockery. Worst of all, the reason no Banquet had been called in so long was because the last one ended in a Shean raid that killed nearly everyone.


    Why would she want to go to such an event?


    Even if I did go, I’ll likely be the highest ranked necromancer, she thought indignantly. The odds of learning anything from the other goers is negligible. Not enough to risk my life for!


    “Thith one will be different,” Vanus answered. “From what I’ve heard, thith Banquet wath called by Mau Ngava.”


    “Really?” she could not help the surprise slipping into her voice, sprinkled with doubt.


    Mau Ngava, the Cryptmaker’s idol, the Deathless King himself. He was the most notorious lich known, destroyed over a dozen kingdom and escaped the Sheans just as often. Rumour had it that his undead army numbered in the hundreds of thousands, capable of overwhelming all but the strongest nations.


    What reason would someone like that have to call a meeting now associated with second-rate sorcerers?


    “Is this information credible? Where did you hear it from?”


    “A death lord.”  The balding necromancers shivered. “One of the Deathleth King’th minionth he claimed to be. He wath the one who delivered the invitation.”


    That certainly gives the claims more credence, Sage thought in contemplation while chewing her bottom lip. The death lord was a Transcended version of death knight. There were not many who could command such a power, much less use it as a messenger.


    “This is actually happening?” she sought confirmation. “The Deathless King is coming out of his hiding-hole to host the Umbral Banquet?”


    Vanus nodded his old head. “The death lord confirmed the attendanth of the Blight Monarch and Blood Thorcereth.”


    “The Blight Monarch? I’ve heard that name somewhere,” she muttered to herself.


    If she remembered correctly, he used to be the king of a desert kingdom named Semet, once located in the far south of Rekke. It was said that he was so potent with curses that the day he died, those who wrapped his corpse were struck with dozens of curses that quickly spread to the populace. By the end of the first day, the city was dead. After the second day, the entire country was in ruins. The fall of Semet was the catalyst to his dark resurrection. Apparently, he still lingered in the ruins, attended by ghoulish servants that once served him in life. And the brave fools who wander into his territory, they are never heard from again.


    Blight Monarch; and the Blood Sorceress… the progenitor of vampires, someone who most definitely knew how to create them. Now that Sage knew who would be attending, she could not refrain from going. An event with at least three Transcendents in attendance, what kind of event will that be?


    “And you’re abstaining because…?” she could not help asking.


    Vanus responded with a snort. “Blight Monarch, Blood Thorcereth, Deathleth King; theeth are big nameth known not only in the necromanther and undead thircleth. For more than a millennium their nameth have been yoothed to frighten children into behaving.


    “When thuch big fellath gather, it’th thomething big; tomething that can affect the whole continent.” He shook his head in disproval before continuing. “That’th too dangerouth for me.”


    “O-kay,” she responded, holding up the sheet. “Can I have this?”


    “Help yourthelf.”


    “Thank you,” she said, slipping the paper into her shadow. A thought suddenly struck her, that had her turning back to the necromancer. “How did they even find you? You haven’t been here for aeons, have you? Or do give your whereabouts to every other necromancer you meet?”


    These questions sent him into a gaping fit of laughter. “Nothing of the thort,” he assured. Then, when the cackle was done he continued in a more serious tone, “If I had to gueth, they have a way to locate every necromanther. Conthidering who the Deathleth King ith, that method can pothibly bypath anti-divination thpellth yoothed by necromantherth.”


    “That’s not a comforting thought,” Sage frowned. Thank goodness I’m a phantom. That must be the reason why she had not received an invitation. She certainly would not appreciate a visit from a Transcendent.


    Still, she was grateful to learn of the event. An event with Ultra Order sorcerers in attendance; where she would have the opportunity to query the most accomplished necromancer on the feasibility of bringing back individuals after much time had passed; where she could discuss vampirism with the Blood Sorceress herself. Hell, she might even get a chance to glimpse a model of the vaunted Ultra order spells.


    “I take it you’re going?” Vanus asked.


    “Definitely.” She replied, a little more excited than she would have preferred. There was no way she was not going!


    It was still a month away though, so there was no need to fixate on it. For now, it would be more productive if she tried to acquire more 9^th Order spells. As strong as she currently was, she was under no illusions that her strength would stand out in a feeding pit that hosted Transcendents. Although she had little hope of reaching their level come Banquet, there were still ways to minimise that gap; even if only slightly.


    Which was why she had to perfect the Undead Strengthening Ritual. After all, her intention for wanting to learn it was not so she could use it on throwaway minions like Vanus was doing. She had every intention of using it on her own undead and herself as well!