Becoming a god by raising witches

So they took Borg, who was quite good-looking, back with them.

From that moment on, Borg's fate changed.

The necromancer believed he was chosen by Death, born to become a wizard, and possessed exceptional talent in necromancy.

After becoming a necromancer, he not only regained his strength but also gained power.

So, when he was 20, he returned to the town, turned his younger siblings into stitched-together ghouls, and kept them with him. As for his parents, he let the ghouls eat them.

He then became the town's notorious necromancer and was wanted by Aidenburg.

However, none of the bounty hunters who hunted him ever returned alive, all eventually becoming food for his undead monsters. This further enhanced his reputation, earning him the title of the bounty hunters' nightmare, the villainous necromancer Borg.

At the age of 30, he successfully killed his teacher, turned him into his servant, and entered the Kingdom of Tumen, where he acquired the identity his teacher had once disguised as: a literature teacher.

To go even further, Borg discovered the burial site of the necromancer Finnie Sares while searching for ancient necromancer records.

In order to gain Fini Sares's approval and obtain greater power from her, or to turn her corpse into a corpse puppet, the clever Borg came up with the idea of ​​sacrifice.

Sacrificing this group of energetic young men and women to Fini Sares in exchange for what he needed was a very worthwhile deal for Borg, even if it meant he would be wanted by the Kingdom of Tumen again.

Looking at the boy who had suddenly appeared in front of him, Borg couldn't help but find it amusing.

If I, at 30, could handle so many experienced bounty hunters, why would I, now in my early forties, be afraid of a teenager?

The naive boy in front of him had never witnessed the terror of a necromancer; his appearance was nothing more than another sacrifice for him.

Borg was full of confidence in his necromancy and in the undead he summoned, especially inflated by the cries for help and screams of the young boys and girls.

"Despair, weep, it will make the sacrifice more interesting."

Borg stretched out his hands, embracing the sky, his expression ferocious and twisted.

He completely disregarded Locke, believing that his ghouls could tear him to pieces.

This unfortunate boy, who had only met me once, was about to die in the course of his great cause.

The young people who cried for help didn't believe Locke was capable of saving them, and they paid no attention to others, only concerned with their own escape.

The stitched-together corpse monsters were a terrifying sight for them, not only because of their grotesque appearance and foul stench, but also because a single attack from them could rip off the limbs of a normal person. They possessed immense strength and sharp teeth, making it a one-sided massacre.

Compared to these three-meter-tall monsters, the boys and girls were like lambs to the slaughter, unable to do anything but cry and despair.

"I am Locke, an investigator from the Sixth Sheriff's Court. I am pursuing a necromancer with a history of theft. Sir, are you a necromancer who is currently performing a sacrifice?"

Locke asked.

Borg narrowed his eyes. The Sixth Sheriff's Court? That is, the Bureau of Investigation.

This is common knowledge in the supernatural field; this young man is an investigator from the Bureau of Paranormal Investigations.

This is entirely beneficial to me.

Sacrificing a monster would surely make the necromancer Fini Sares even happier, wouldn't it?

"Heh heh, I am a necromancer, young investigator. You're very unlucky."

"Well, then you're under arrest."

Locke said calmly.

"Hahaha, arrogant young man, today you will become my sacrifice to please the witch!"

Borg laughed, but the next second, his smile froze on his face.

Because the stitched-together ghouls he summoned all knelt down and prostrated themselves on the ground, facing the young investigator Locke.

Locke covered his nose; this was why he preferred to contract a skeleton monster rather than a zombie.

They stink so badly.

Seemingly sensing Locke's disdain, the stitched-up corpse monsters lowered their heads in self-consciousness, not daring to get up.

"You! What's going on with you? Get up, all of you, get up!"

Borg panicked.

Have the monsters I raised collectively rebelled?

Surrendering before even fighting, don't you have any shame?

He was, after all, a notorious necromancer with a bounty exceeding 5 gold coins!

Locke heard Borg's thoughts and his eyes lit up slightly.

The bounty is over 5 gold coins? Are you serious?

It seems it's time to carry forward the traditional virtue of helping others.

Locke instantly became highly motivated, transforming into a messenger of justice, and said to Borg,

"You despicable and shameless necromancer, you actually lured students to this place, intending to sacrifice them to evil beings. Today, I will represent justice and destroy you! Corpse monsters, kill him!"

The stitched-together corpses stood up, turned to look at Borg, and their eyes gleamed with hatred.

"Wait, what are you doing? You bunch of useless trash! I am your master, I am the great necromancer! What do you want to do?"

The monsters, who had already betrayed him, completely ignored Borg's words and charged towards him.

The young men and women stared at Locke in disbelief, dumbfounded.

A magistrate's investigator? How can there be such a capable investigator? What exactly did he do?

"Yes, saved."

"Those monsters, the monsters are charging towards Instructor Borg, we, we must run away."

"My legs, my legs are weak, I can't move them."

"I, I, I peed."

Just as the teenagers began discussing their incontinence, the necromancer Borg gritted his teeth and summoned an even more powerful undead.

This immortal being was his teacher. Borg never summoned him lightly because he was his trump card and an extremely powerful being.

"You must possess some kind of strange artifact to make these ordinary stitched-together monsters obey your commands, but you underestimate the power of a genius necromancer. Today, I'll show you what true terror is!"

Borg raised his head confidently once again.

The undead, exuding an aura of death, also revealed a cruel smile.

He slowly turned around and looked at Locke.

Immediately, he lowered his head and knelt down.

"Please allow me to follow you, great necromancer."

"Bolimir, what are you doing? I am the great necromancer, that kid over there is a..."

Borg was furious, never expecting that even his trump card had betrayed him.

But he soon realized something was wrong.

He had never heard of any strange creature that could cause the undead he had contracted to betray him.

Unless it's a necromancer who is more evil and more powerful than himself.

The undead naturally obey the strong, which is why they all knelt down.

"You! Aren't you an investigator? You're a necromancer too!!!"

Borg's hands trembled; after being betrayed twice by trusted partners, he seemed to have developed Parkinson's disease.

"Slander! This is slander against the Church of Life! Slander against the Sheriff's Court! Slander against me personally! How could I possibly be a despicable and shameless necromancer?"

To prevent the young men and women from hearing more news, and since he didn't know how to use forgetting magic, Locke used shadow manipulation to knock all the nearby young men and women unconscious.

This also includes the red-haired girl hanging in the tree.

"You! You really are a necromancer."

Borg pointed angrily at Locke.

“Borimir, what are you waiting for? If you want to follow me, hurry up and kill Borg.”

Locke commanded.

Bolimir and the many stitched monsters all turned their attention to Borg, moving closer to him to tear him apart.

Borg broke out in a cold sweat. This was an unprecedented crisis he had ever faced, even more so than the bounty hunters and church personnel who had come to hunt him down.

The necromancer fears not the righteous, but the evil wizards who are stronger than him.

"You can't treat me like this, you'll suffer the consequences!"

"Borg said."

But the undead paid no heed; they were not afraid of pain.

Realizing he was in dire straits, Borg chanted a spell, creating a protective barrier around himself that prevented the stitched monsters from entering. Bolimir also needed to use magic to break through it.

Taking advantage of the opportunity, Borg slashed his hands, letting the blood flow into the ground, and spoke in the language of dragons.

"The chief disciple of the ancient witch Rosalia Jiménez, the favored one of the realms of death, the great necromancer Fini Sares, please accept my blood sacrifice, answer my call, grant me strength, and let me overcome the crisis before me. I am willing to sacrifice more of my life for you."

Purple runes appeared on Borg's arms, and these runes began to glow, echoing the blood flowing into the ground.

Just then, a stunningly beautiful young woman in a white dress with long silver hair slowly walked over, carrying a veiled female corpse that exuded the aura of the dead.