Reborn with a Necromancer System
Chapter 134: First Infiltration

Chapter 134: First Infiltration

The morning came slower than expected. He hadn’t slept half as well as he’d hoped. Too many conflicting thoughts turning over in his head. He didn’t need the sleep, necromancy saw to that, but he wanted it.

He yearned for the rest from his thoughts and welcomed dreams of a better world.

Yet, for all his unrest, he got up early. He had something to do today that, strangely, felt more daunting than sneaking into the academy or navigating guild politics.

Teaching.

The last time Kai had taught anyone outside of his own Arcane Crucible team, it had been a pair of nervous recruits from his guild in the Knights of Elora. One couldn’t macro their keys for the life of them, and the other kept forgetting the controls for certain actions every time they logged in.

He found Graham in the estate’s main salon, already sipping dark tea and reading a scroll, eyes flitting left to right at a blistering pace. The man was always alert, sharp in a way that suggested he never truly relaxed.

Kai cleared his throat. "Lord Eldridge."

"You’re up early," Graham said, without glancing up. "Good."

Kai folded his arms. "I wanted to ask for the day. I thought it might be best to take some time to draft a curriculum for Naia. Something tailored. She’s sharp, but unfocused."

"Ah. Excellent." Graham finally looked up then, narrowing his eyes, as though testing Kai for any signs of hesitation. Then, without ceremony, he pulled open a drawer and flicked two coins onto the table.

Gold coins.

Kai blinked. "Sir?"

"A sign-on bonus," Graham said, as if it were nothing. "For your new position as my daughter’s tutor. You’re under our employ now, after all. Draft up your curriculum and then bring it to my desk."

Kai fought the instinct to let his eyes widen. Gold was... a lot. Two gold coins could feed a small village for a week. Could buy enchanted weapons. Could bribe entire gatehouses into silence.

’I didn’t expect to bring the curriculum to him, though. I’ll have to spend all night on it. Thank the gods that I don’t really have to sleep.’

He took them without comment, nodding in quiet gratitude. "Thank you, Lord Eldridge. I’ll make good use of the time."

"See that you do. Naia’s brilliant, but easily bored. She responds well to structure and, how did her mother put it? ’Mild chaos.’"

"I think I can manage that."

He left the conversation with a strange tightness in his chest.

It felt like cheating.

Carter had handed him the job. Naia liked him and was bright and eager to learn. He didn’t have to earn this the way he’d earned everything else, through blood, lies, or raw persistence. At least not many lies.

And yet... there was something warm about it. Something human. He hated how good it felt.

---

Later, he climbed into the attic with practiced silence. The space was as he left it. A single small window offered a view of the rear rooftops of the palace complex.

Kai knelt, closed his eyes, and activated Umbral Mantle.

His body blurred. The colours of his skin, hair, and clothes bled into shadow. He became a shimmer in the air, bending light and warping his presence. He opened the attic window, stepped into the cool morning breeze, and leapt.

Strengthening magic surged through his legs as he bounded from rooftop to rooftop, then landed atop the palace wall in a crouch. He remained motionless for a long moment, watching for alarm, for archers, for wards, for any sign of someone noticing his presence.

Nothing stirred.

’Good.’

His first stop was the servants’ quarters. He slipped in with the movement of bodies, using their pacing and noise as cover. Every time a door opened, he slipped through. Every time someone turned, he froze in place, Umbral Mantle cloaking him in illusion and silence.

He didn’t expect to find Firra here. If she were among the servants, Kleo would have already found her and they would have escaped together, but he saw her the day before.

Still, he had to look.

Had to be sure.

He searched faces, checked for scars, anyone who looked as Kleo described, or has the subtle grace that he’d expect from Kleo’s sister.

Nothing. Just tired hands and stiff backs, moving in sync.

Whispers floated between them like incense smoke.

"...king’s illness is worse than they’re saying. Third healer this week..."

"...Verdant Hollow refusing tribute again. Iron Mountains won’t bend either..."

"...and the little princess. Dead, and that boy still walks free. Do you think they’ll find and execute him?"

Kai stopped at that one. His name wasn’t said, but the implication cut through the walls.

He moved on, faster now.

---

He searched the outer grounds methodically. Sheds, shacks, tool storage. The stables. Even the latrine block.

Nothing. No secret passages, no carved symbols, no underground hatches.

He pressed a hand against stone walls, listening for hollowness. Pried back crates to check for trapdoors. Nada.

He tried not to let the frustration rise. This was groundwork. Necessary. Even fruitless searches built a map in his mind.

Eventually, he moved into the main building, and immediately felt the difference.

The halls were quiet, polished, and humming with latent magic.

Here, the knights were different. They didn’t shuffle or joke. They stood still for hours, eyes hard as obsidian.

The warrior mages wore robes laced with divine silver and spell-thread. Kai could feel their perception brushing against him like long, invisible fingers.

Once, twice, three times, pairs of eyes lingered too long on the empty space he occupied.

He slowed. Tightened his core.

He knew what it was. The life essence inside his body, it was too active.

Too loud.

Even cloaked in shadows, he was leaking soul-energy like a glowing hearth in a dark room.

He gritted his teeth and applied a vice on himself. An internal choke, like a compression of his essence.

His presence dimmed. The attention faded.

The world grew colder as did his emotional state.

With muted steps and stiller breath, he navigated the palace’s lower floors. He noted guard rotations, unlocked windows, choke-points. Even where magical light crystals flickered subtly, poor maintenance or a sign of older enchantments decaying.

He found no Firra. No screaming clues.

But now he had a blueprint of the palace in his mind. And in a place like this, information was more powerful than any blade.

Having a foothold in the noble’s section of the palace was better than he could have hoped.

By the time he slipped out of the palace and returned to the attic through the same window he left, the moon was high and his stomach ached, not from hunger, but the weight of knowing he still hadn’t found her.

’Maybe I’ll talk to Kleo tomorrow and see what she knows.’