My Harem of Dangerous and Crazy Women as a Reincarnated Necromancer-Chapter 8: Interrogated For Being Handsome or For Cheating?

Chapter 8: Interrogated For Being Handsome or For Cheating?

The Council building was the largest in Millbrook — a white stone structure that dominated the central square.

Mark arrived exactly at noon, dressed in the most presentable clothes he could find, which didn’t say much given that his wardrobe consisted mainly of deeply suspicious black robes.

’Relax,’ Mark told himself as he climbed the steps. ’They don’t know anything. They can’t know anything. Just act normal.’

"Master," Ely’s voice resonated in his mind. "I’m ready to intervene if necessary."

"No. Whatever happens, don’t come out. If they see you, we’re dead."

"But—"

"That’s an order, Ely."

"...Understood."

The Council doors swung open, revealing a wide chamber with an elevated semicircular table.

Five people sat behind it, watching him with expressions ranging from curiosity to open hostility.

At the center, a gray-haired man with an aristocratic bearing studied him with calculating eyes.

Lord Aldric Vance, presumably.

"Mark," the man said, his voice filling the room. "Thank you for coming."

’As if I had a choice,’ Mark thought.

"It’s an honor to be summoned by the Council," Mark replied, inclining his head in what he hoped passed for a respectful gesture.

"Sit."

Mark sat in the chair positioned in front of the table — it was uncomfortably low, forcing him to look up at the councilmembers.

A fairly obvious psychological trick, but an effective one.

"I imagine you’re wondering why you’re here," Lord Vance continued.

’Yes! The suspense is killing me.’

"We have received... reports. Concerning reports about your activities."

’Here we go...’

"What kind of reports?"

"Reports that a Rank F necromancer has been clearing Rank D and C dungeons. Alone. With no visible assistance."

Mark kept his expression neutral, even as he was screaming internally.

"And that’s a problem?"

"It’s... unusual," interjected a woman to Vance’s left — red-haired, with a scar running across her cheek. "Necromancers are not known for their direct combat ability... and yet you’ve accomplished feats that even Rank B adventurers would struggle to replicate."

"I have my methods."

"So we’ve been told," the woman smiled, though there was no warmth in it. "The question is: what exactly are those methods?"

Mark took a deep breath.

He had prepared an explanation for this.

One that was technically true, though it left out several crucial details.

"As a necromancer, I have the ability to reanimate corpses. The monsters I kill in dungeons can be... repurposed. Every dungeon I clear gives me more resources for the next one."

The councilmembers exchanged glances.

"You’re saying you use monster corpses as soldiers?" Lord Vance asked.

"Essentially, yes."

"And where are these... soldiers... now?"

"They decompose," Mark improvised. "My current skills only allow me to maintain them for a limited time. After each dungeon... they dissolve."

It was a lie.

A massive lie.

But it was the best he had.

Lord Vance studied Mark from head to toe for a long moment with those gray eyes.

"Interesting," he said at last. "Very interesting."

"Is there a problem with my methods?" Mark asked, trying to sound innocent.

"Not necessarily. Necromancy, while... distasteful... is not illegal in Millbrook. Provided it is not used on humans."

"I would never use my abilities on humans," said Mark.

And this time he wasn’t lying.

Technically.

Ely had been human, but now she was... something else.

"That is what we hope," said the scarred woman, leaning forward. "Because if we discover that you have been... experimenting... with human corpses, the consequences would be severe."

"...Understood."

Lord Vance nodded slowly.

"Very well. For now we will consider this matter closed. But we will be watching you, Mark. Very closely."

"I appreciate the Council’s... attention."

"You may go."

Mark stood, inclined his head once more, and walked out of the chamber at a measured pace.

Only when he was outside the building again, back in the crowded square, did he allow himself to breathe.

"That was close. Too close."

"Master," Ely’s voice came through, laced with concern. "Are you alright?"

"I’m fine... but we need to be more careful. Much more careful."

"What do you suggest?"

Mark thought for a moment.

"We need to change our strategy. The nearby dungeons aren’t safe anymore. We’ll have to go farther out... places where nobody knows us."

"And the guild?"

"I’ll keep registering Rank F missions... we’ll keep up appearances. But the real work happens in secret."

"Understood, Master. I will do whatever is necessary to protect you."