Project Necro is an official initiative by Re:Library.

“Is your interrogation over?”

A sudden voice from behind made me turn around.

“You’re fast, Master.”

The little Sage in the pointy hat floated gently through the night sky.

“I’m exhausted from all that healing… Oh? This’ll do nicely.”

With that, she reached out and touched a sword lying on the ground.

Like a dry cloth soaking up water, the magic vanished from the enchanted sword in an instant—Master had drained it.

“Wait, Master! What are you doing!?”
“Replenishing my magic. How thoughtful of you, Veit.”
“The one you just sucked dry is probably the Dragonslaying Magic Sword, Löwenicht.”

It’s a sword with terrifying killing power, especially against dragons and draconians. Even when used any other time, it can slice a great shield clean in two.

“I know. That’s exactly why it’s perfect. Too dangerous to leave lying around. Oh, and this shield looks nice too.”
“That shield has the crest of the Old Kingdom—it’s clearly an antique… At least 150 years old.”
“Oh please, that’s practically yesterday.”

Now she was absorbing magic from the armor. I think… yeah, that was definitely worn by one of the real heroes of old.

“Stop! Don’t waste it! Can’t we at least keep the armor?”
“Fine, fine. I’ll make you new gear for demons next time. Just let me use this to recover for now. I’m not done healing people in Bachen yet.”
“You’re lying. You’re totally not going to make anything!”

If we set the unit of my magic power as one “Veit,” then that sword, shield, and armor she just drained add up to about 27 Veits.
The Second Division would’ve been thrilled to get those…

After draining all the magical energy from the fake heroes’ gear, Master stretched her arms out, clearly satisfied.
I’ve been keeping count, and unless I’m wrong, she just absorbed about 128 Veits worth of magic. This ancient little granny has bottomless magical capacity.

“Not bad. So, who’s this apprentice witch?”
“Apparently, she was one of the Hero’s companions.”

Master nodded as if understanding.

“I see, so this girl was playing pretend with this toy hero nonsense. Listen, girl—if you don’t know your place, you’ll meet your end.”

Her friends literally just met their end a moment ago, Master.

Completely ignoring the pale-faced female mage, Master formed a light sigil with her hands.

“Since I helped myself to their things, I suppose I should return the corpses. Let’s give them a brief borrowed life. Arise, and walk.”

With a few flicks of her fingers, the three corpses on the ground began dragging themselves to their feet—zombified.
She gently patted the blood-dripping zombies with her tiny hands and spoke kindly:

“Now go. Walk back to your comrades. Let them give you a proper burial.”

Master waved at them with a cheerful smile.
This is exactly why necromancers get a bad rep as psychos…

We have the blood-dripping former party staggered off on unsteady legs.
We have the female mage trembling, face twitching like she was about to seize.
And then we have Master, looking at her and beaming brightly.

“What’s wrong? Can’t walk on your own? Hey, you three—take your still-living comrade with you.”

The zombies slowly turned and looked at her with clouded eyes.

“Eel…”

They shambled over and, despite her collapsed state, picked her up together.

“KYAAH!? N-, NOOO!!”
“Quite the perky one. Fine then—go on and escort her.”

With a flutter of her hand, the zombies carried the screaming mage off into a gap in the city wall.

“You’re completely outrageous, Master.”
“Hm? Was I not supposed to do that?”
“No… never mind. I’ll go scout a bit.”

Master lost her human heart long ago.
Oh well. I snuck back into the city of Schwelm. If anything happened, Master would bail me out anyway—easy work.

Sure enough, the whole city was in chaos.

“Sir Hero! What happened to you!?”
“H-He’s dead! He’s a zombie now!”
“That’s Lord Lanhardt’s corpse!”
“The Sword Saint and the Holy Knight too!”

Wow, they got some impressive titles. I had to kill them for self-defense, but still kind of a pity.

“Wait! The Saintess is still alive!”

She was a saintess?
Just, leave her alone already.

The zombies reached the central plaza of Schwelm and collapsed with a wet splat. Having fulfilled Necromancer Gomoviroa’s orders, they returned to mere corpses.
A crowd of soldiers had gathered, but they stood at a distance, stunned.
Can’t blame them.
After all, the “heroes” of the Northern Front, their shining stars, had just walked in as zombies.

As the allied soldiers stood there in shock, a man who appeared to be a civil servant came running over in a panic. It was my first time seeing him in real life, but that’s the Senate’s secretary if I ever saw one.
As soon as the middle-aged secretary saw the Saintess, he shouted in an accusing tone.

“What happened!? Explain yourself, Saintess Mildine!”

Still seated on the stone pavement, the woman let out a scream-like answer.

“A w-werewolf! A single werewolf killed everyone! A-And then turned them into zombies…!”
“A werewolf!? Absurd! The Hero would never fall to such a trivial foe!”

True, against an average werewolf, they would’ve probably won three-on-one. If I hadn’t used Soulshaker, I probably would’ve lost too.

But the woman—Mildine—shook her head wildly and insisted.

“His howl sealed our magic and sword! We couldn’t win!”

Unease spread among the soldiers.

“Four of them lost to one werewolf…? That’s not right…”
“Well, I have heard the Demon King’s army has an insanely strong werewolf general…”
“No way someone that important would show up here though.”

Actually, he’s here.
Very much here.

As whispers amongst the soldiers grew louder, the secretary began to panic.

“Wait, the Saintess is simply confused! Come, let’s go.”

He reached to pull Mildine up—but one of the soldiers stepped in front. Just a militia guy in casual gear with a breastplate.

“Wait a second—was Lord Lanhardt really a Hero?”
“Yeah! A Hero shouldn’t die that easily!”
“Did you lie to us?!”

The Senate’s standing army is made up of jobless mercs, washed-up swordsmen, and nomadic warriors. They are professionals and will fight no matter what the opponent for a paycheck.
But the same couldn’t be said for guards and citizen militia. The guards prioritize the safety of their own city, while citizen militia are amateurs who only fight when necessary.
Their morale breaks the moment things go south.

More soldiers were gathering, and the plaza descended into chaos.

The Senate secretary was cornered by enraged soldiers and punched in the face. His nose and mouth were covered in blood. Someone grabbed him by the sleeve, and ge was soon swallowed by the crowd.
No one paid any respect to the bodies of the fake heroes, and now soldiers surrounded the fake Saintess too.

“You mastered 26 schools of magic, right!? Can’t you take down a werewolf with a spell!?”

Wow, that’s more than my master.

But Saintess Mildine just shook her head, terrified.

“N-No… I can’t…”
“What do you mean you can’t?!”
“I-, I’m just a Mage Officer from the Senate… I-I only know illusions…!”
“Illusion, you say!?”

Cornered by a big guy, she blurted out even more than she should have.

“Eek! M-My job’s just to spice up ceremonies or cover up scandals!”

Silence fell.

“You’re a scam artist!”
“A fake saintess!? Are you kidding me!?”
“How many of our comrades die because of these assholes?!”
“Kill her!”
“Cut off her head!”

Okay, whoa. Are they serious?

Beating an unarmed woman to the death isn’t normal.
Besides, did you forget that it’s thanks to these fake heroes that you guys managed to retake two whole towns?
As I was thinking that, someone tugged my sleeve from behind.

“Lord Veit, Lord Veit.”

Only one group would call me that in a place like this—Mao’s underlings.

Two young merchants were looking at me, eyes wide in shock.

“What are you doing here, Lord Veit?”
“Eh, just came to check things out and ended up taking down the hero.”
“Don’t downplay it!”

If you want to blame someone, blame your boss. He’s way too suspicious.

“Anyway, come with us. Let’s change your clothes.”

They dragged me into a nearby tent and shoved a standard militia jacket on me.

“Please don’t stand out so much! You’re putting us in danger too!”
“Sorry.”

Seriously though. It’s all your boss’ fault.