Chapter 52 | Reincarnated as a Necromancer, I Turned a Death Desert Into Paradise

Elon raised his hands to signal her to stay calm as he approached Sern.

But Sern was clearly not going to be fooled by such tricks. Slumped against the tent support, her body still twitching slightly, she glared at Elon and shrieked, “Stay back!”

“Take one more step, and I'll make you regret it!”

“I believe you,” Elon replied.

He nodded but didn't stop. He continued to pace closer to her. “But in your current state, it would be best for everyone if we sat down and talked calmly.”

Sern gritted her teeth and tried to push herself up, only for her arms to give out. She collapsed back down, letting out a frustrated groan.

“I don't mean any harm.”

Elon took another small step forward, his voice calm and soothing. “I only want something you have on you. It's very ordinary, and it shouldn't be anything precious to you.”

“In your dreams!”

Sern's response was swift and resolute, without a moment's hesitation. “I won't give you a single thing on my person.”

“Sern, let me finish. It's just—”

“Shut up!”

Sern's sharp, high-pitched screech cut Elon off, nearly shaking the tent's ceiling. “You old geezer! You actually mixed yourself up with a necromancer, and yet you have the nerve to ask me for things?”

“Do you know that according to church doctrine, just for colluding with a necromancer, I could have you tied to a burning stake!”

As she spat out her curses, she squirmed frantically, trying to drag herself away from Elon. However, with no strength in her limbs, she only managed to shift slightly in place.

“Someone like you doesn't deserve to be a druid! Have you forgotten the teachings of the Goddess of Life? How dare you let death desecrate the will of life!”

“Alright, alright, I get it. Don't be so tense. I'll stay right here.”

Elon's helpless smile widened. Seeing her grow increasingly agitated, he worried she might pass out from hyperventilating, so he turned his attention to the other side of the tent.

“Your Highness, look at this...”

Only to find that the Princess wasn't even paying attention to him. She was crouching beside Shane, holding the bowl of bean soup and feeding it to him. “Do you feel any better? Have a few more sips. Take your time.”

Propping himself up, Shane's complexion looked much better than before. He took the bowl of bean soup from her hands, drank a few mouthfuls, and then looked at her.

The Princess shifted slightly to reveal the young man standing behind her. “Leynas, this is Lanche.”

The young man was the guide who had led Sern to the oasis. His face was pale, and when he met Shane's gaze, it drained of what little color it had left. His legs buckled, and he dropped to his knees with a thud. “M-Mister! I had no idea she came here to harm you!”

“She just gave me a gold coin and asked me to lead the way. I didn't know anything else!”

“I-If I had known she was after you, I wouldn't have taken the job even if it killed me!”

Lanche spoke in a frantic rush, desperately trying to distance himself from Sern.

Shane looked at him, finding it somewhat amusing. In the eyes of the common folk, a necromancer was no different from an ogre. “Get up. No one is blaming you.”

His tone was flat, revealing neither anger nor mercy. Hearing this, Lanche did not relax; instead, he raised his head and peeked at Shane warily.

Then, Shane asked casually, “Where are you from?”

Lanche immediately perked up and poured his heart out like water from a bucket. “My lord, I'm from Sand City. They call it a city, but it's really just a town of barely a hundred people on the edge of the Golden Sea. Usually, we work as guides or middle-men.”

“And there are several small towns like ours scattered around the edge of the Golden Sea, all pretty much the same.”

“I've heard there are a few near the south-central part of the Golden Sea too. They're about the same size and rely on oases, but they're tough nuts to crack.”

At this point, Lanche stole another glance at Shane. Seeing no displeasure on his face, he grew a bit bolder.

Shane listened, tapping his finger against his knee. His gaze then drifted to Lanche's waist. “Do you have a map of the surrounding area on you?”

Lanche froze, a look of hesitation crossing his face. But under Shane's impassive gaze, he had no choice but to untie the map from his waist and spread it out before him. “I drew this myself, so it's not as good as the ones made by professional cartographers...”

The map lay open on the ground, about two feet square. It was drawn on high-quality parchment that looked rather aged.

However, despite being hand-drawn by Lanche, it was incredibly detailed. It not only mapped out the terrain but also used special symbols to mark various points of interest, thoroughly illustrating the geography of a certain range within the Golden Sea.

Shane looked at the annotations and felt a hint of surprise. He could see several oases, complete with tiny, neat writing that clearly detailed useful information like their sizes, water volumes, and seasonal changes.

This guy is actually quite talented.

Following a path on the map, Shane's eyes fell on a familiar oasis...

“This one here is your Silver Sand Lake. I marked it based on the routes the merchants mentioned,” Lanche quickly explained, noticing Shane staring at the path leading to the oasis.

“The name was spread by the caravans, so that's how I labeled it.”

Shane nodded, not minding the name. Instead, looking at the map, an idea formed in his mind. “Is this map for sale?”

Lanche trembled, then nodded vigorously. “Yes, yes... No, no, no... If you want it, my lord, I will gladly give it to you.”

As he spoke, he deftly rolled up the map and, with a flattering smile, respectfully presented it to Shane.

Shane looked at him and didn't decline, reaching out to accept it.

Seeing Shane accept the map, Lanche visibly relaxed, his posture straightening up. He quickly added, “Rest assured, my lord, I won't run around without your orders. I'll stay in the camp and await your instructions.”

“That won't be necessary.”

Shane set the map aside and looked at the Princess beside him. “You don't need to report to me. Just follow Her Highness's arrangements. She is the rightful lord of this land.”

Only then did Lanche turn his gaze to the Princess. A look of sudden realization washed over his face, and he immediately bowed low, showering her with flowery praise. “I have long heard of the Third Imperial Princess's peerless beauty and extraordinary grace. Seeing you today, you truly live up to your reputation!”

“With Your Highness governing the Golden Sea, this place will surely—”

“Alright, that's enough.”

Amused yet exasperated by his endless flattery, the Princess raised her hand to stop him. “Dismissed for now. I'll call for you when I have tasks to assign.”

Lanche nodded like a woodpecker, repeating his agreements as he stood up, bowed, and backed out of the tent.

For a moment, silence fell over the tent, save for the heavy breathing of Elon and Sern.

“Instructor!”

Noticing something amiss on the other side of the tent, the Princess gasped.

Sern was currently wrapped around Elon in an incredibly awkward position. Her long legs were locked around Elon's neck in a textbook headscissors hold.

“Ha!”

Sern let out a smug laugh. “Old man, weren't you acting all high and mighty just now? Huh? Want to take my things?”

“Why don't you try taking them now!”

Elon slapped at her legs with one hand while weakly waving the other toward the Princess, choking out muffled, incoherent syllables. “Let... Let go... Your Highness...”

“Instructor!”

Alicia paled in shock and rushed over immediately.

Seeing the Princess approach, Sern released her grip, flipped backward, and sprang to her feet, falling into a defensive stance.

Elon sat on the ground clutching his neck, gasping heavily for air. It took him a good while to recover.

“You... You really are...”

He pointed at Sern, shaking his head helplessly. “I only wanted your Living Soil Pouches. Useas told me you've loved collecting soil with strong vitality since you were a child. You must have plenty of Living Soil Pouches on you.”

Then, pointing out of the tent, Elon continued, “You must have seen the green plants outside. Shane and I planted them together, but I've run out of Living Soil Pouches.”

Elon only intended to explain what he wanted and clarify Shane's stance. But upon hearing this, Sern's face contorted with rage like an ignited powder keg, and her voice shrilled. “You are actually collaborating with a necromancer!”

“How dare you!”

Seeing her reaction, Elon realized things were taking a turn for the worse.

Sure enough, Sern lunged at him in the next instant, completely throwing caution to the wind.

Left with no choice, Elon raised his hand and clenched his fist. Several streaks of emerald light erupted from within Sern, binding her tightly and causing her to crash to the ground.

Elon walked over to Sern, placed his hand over her face, and whispered, “Sleep.”

Instantly, Sern's body went limp.

“This is troublesome,” Elon sighed, standing up and looking at the Princess with a helpless expression. “She is a Judgment Knight after all. I can't afford to push things too far.”

“You said earlier that she has a lot of Living Soil Pouches on her, right?”

Shane pushed himself up from the cot and stood, his eyes gleaming as he stared at Sern. Elon nodded. “Yes. I suspect she has quite a few. This girl always carries them with her.”