Strongest Necromancer Of Heaven's Gate Chapter 5 Let’s Go Home

The heartbroken cries of a young elven woman echoed through the night while she clung to the cloth bundle securing her infant.

Tears poured down her cheeks like a heavy downpour, as her parents and fellow clan members watched her with deep sympathy.

They all gathered along the riverbank beneath the glow of the full moon. The night was stunning, with stars twinkling vividly overhead.

However, the young woman's mournful wails dimmed the beauty of this enchanting scene.

A few minutes later, the Patriarch of the Elven Clan placed a gentle hand on the young woman's shoulder.

"I am sorry for your loss, Adeline," the Patriarch whispered tenderly. "But we cannot bury him in our ancestral lands. I hope you can understand."

Adeline nodded while tears flowed freely down her face. She understood their clan's traditions, yet it shattered her heart to bid farewell to her child, who had passed away shortly after birth.

Adeline's father let out a heavy sigh as he approached his daughter, holding a basket lined with soft cloth for a baby's comfort. Sadly, her child could no longer sense its gentleness, having taken his final breath a day earlier.

The young woman pressed a kiss to her baby's forehead before laying him in the basket. She retrieved a wooden plaque from her storage ring and channeled her magic to etch a name upon it.

"Although I couldn't give you love and joy, I won't fail to grant you a name," Adeline murmured sorrowfully, completing the inscription of her son's name on the wooden plaque.

She had inscribed it in the common tongue of the world, hoping anyone who discovered her baby would provide him a dignified burial.

Lux.

That was the name Adeline bestowed upon her son.

After setting the wooden plaque in the basket, Adeline's mother enveloped her daughter in a tight embrace.

"Let me send you off, my dear grandson," Adeline's father said with grief. "I pray the spirits guide your soul to the promised paradise, where we will join you when our time comes. Forgive us for denying you a proper burial."

The Patriarch of the Elven Clan of Entheas gazed at the basket and sighed inwardly.

'Though I wish to bend the rules, the elders would never permit it,' the Patriarch reflected. 'Half-Bloods have no place in Ashe Entheas. Forgive us, child. My hands are tied.'

Suddenly, a young elven girl began to sing. It was the farewell song the Elves performed for those who had left the world.

Quickly, the other elves chimed in with the melody, bidding the clan's youngest member farewell on his path to the afterlife.

Adeline's father set the basket afloat on the river. He gave his grandson a final look before releasing it fully.

Adeline let out a piercing wail, and her mother fought to restrain her. She sensed that without a firm hold, her daughter might plunge into the river to retrieve the basket from the shore.

"Sleep, child," the Patriarch intoned, casting a slumber spell on the distraught young woman. It was the sole measure he could devise to stop her from rash actions.

Moments later, the young woman ceased her struggles and slumped into her mother's arms. Her tears kept flowing, aware that upon waking, she would never behold her son again.

—--

The basket drifted along the Avonlea River, swept by the currents far from Ashe Entheas, where even in death he found no welcome.

Hours slipped by, and the basket had journeyed countless miles, undisturbed by any creature or obstacle.

River dwellers largely ignored it, sensing no life signs inside. Mistaking it for mere drifting wood, they paid it no heed and continued their own pursuits.

Abruptly, far up in the starry sky, a blue comet blazed across, leaving a brilliant streak in its wake.

Drawn toward the basket on the river, the comet veered its path, shrinking rapidly with each moment.

Before long, only a tennis ball-sized orb of blue light remained from the comet that had crossed from beyond the multiverse.

This tiny orb settled on the baby's chest and fused seamlessly into his body.

Minutes later, the lifeless infant suddenly gasped, as if desperate to draw breath into oxygen-starved lungs.

Gradually, color returned to the baby's skin, though weakness still gripped him. Soon, all motion halted, and he lay still in the basket, slumbering oblivious to the perils encircling his fragile form.

—--

"We're nearly home, Sophie," an elderly woman remarked, giving her mount's back a gentle pat. "Let's pick up the pace for breakfast with everyone."

A brief honk replied, as the head of a three-meter-tall White Hippopotamus emerged from the depths.

The old woman grinned, eyeing the distant fortress called Wildgarde.

As they navigated the river, they spotted two massive crocodiles clashing fiercely, with others observing from afar.

Such battles were commonplace on the Huntdeen River this season.

The old woman and Sophie veered away from the dueling giants. Mating season rendered these beasts exceptionally ferocious.

Passing the battling monsters, a faint cry pierced the old woman's ears.

She whipped around to locate the source, spotting the basket drifting slowly toward the crocodile pack.

The old woman's brow furrowed; the unmistakable wail of an infant emanated clearly from within.

"Sophie, turn around! Now!" the old woman commanded.

The white hippopotamus complied swiftly, swinging into a sharp U-turn toward the basket mere dozens of meters from the dominant crocodiles.

Not just the old woman heard the cries; several crocodiles now swam hungrily toward the basket, eyes blood-red.

To them, the baby's sobs signaled an easy feast.

One crocodile neared within a meter, gaping its enormous maw to devour basket and babe alike.

Yet, a foot slammed onto its snout, snapping its jaws shut with crushing force.

The old lady seized the basket in both hands, then leaped away, bounding off the crocodiles as platforms.

With a final vault, she landed gracefully on the hippopotamus' back and urged it to flee at top speed.

Furious roars erupted as the cheated crocodiles pursued the thief who snatched their prize.

The original combatants halted their fight to barricade the hippopotamus' escape route.

"We don't have to make a big deal out of this small matter," the old lady addressed the two colossal crocodiles fixated on her petite figure with crimson gazes. "I'm taking this child with me, so get out of my way."

The giants bellowed in response, prompting the old lady to tsk in irritation.

"So be it. Sophie, go forward," the old lady directed.

The white hippopotamus surged ahead at the obstructing behemoths. As old lady and mount closed to a dozen meters, the pair lunged in rage.

Clutching the basket in her left hand, the old lady's right fingers danced in a chaotic pattern.

Instantly, two forms appeared from nowhere and barreled toward the crocodiles, whose razor-toothed jaws loomed mere meters away.

A thunderous crack echoed around them as the two massive crocodiles hurtled dozens of meters through the air.

Their hulking forms crashed into the river, sending waves surging outward.

The remaining crocodiles froze upon witnessing this, staring at the old lady in terror. All notions of challenging her vanished after she dispatched the alphas in one strike.

The old lady exhaled a resigned sigh, shaking her head. "We'll be late for breakfast, but it can't be helped."

She gazed at the still-weeping infant in the basket.

"Don't cry, little one. You are safe now," the old lady soothed.

Her finger brushed lightly over the baby's cheek to ease his distress.

Whether by chance or instinct, the baby's tiny hands grasped the caressing finger the instant it touched his skin.

The old lady's face lit with a smile as the baby's cries faded while clutching her finger tightly. A quick look confirmed he had drifted back to sleep, so she settled down, securing the basket firmly on her lap.

"Let's go, Sophie," the old lady murmured gently. "Let's go home."