Chapter 2: A Conversation Between the Living and the Dead

Xiahou Yan, led by the maid Anjie, walked into a small tent at the edge of the camp. There, he found the corpse of the Igor Family’s Captain of the Guard—Alice Comstock.

The swordsman lay perfectly straight on a sheepskin rug. The twenty-one-year-old martial artist still had her upper body wrapped in blood-stained chain armor. The hem of her skirt was long torn, revealing a pair of mud-caked, high-heeled tall boots.

Holding a lion oil lamp in her hands, Anjie looked at the young Lord beside her. "Lord Eliot..."

"Give me the lamp," Xiahou Yan said in a low voice, his eyes fixed on the swordsman’s corpse as the metallic scent of blood drifted into his nose. "Let me have a moment alone with Captain Alice."

Anjie looked as if she wanted to say something, but ultimately held her tongue. She handed the oil lamp to her master, bowed slightly, and left the tent, looking back with almost every step.

Soon, only two people remained in the tent—a living person standing, and a dead person lying down. The living noble Lord, and his dead Captain of the Guard.

In Xiahou Yan’s hand, the flame of the oil lamp flickered with a golden light, illuminating both of their faces. Holding the oil lamp steadily, he slowly approached Alice Comstock’s corpse. He crouched beside her, quietly studying the swordsman’s features.

Even though the force of life had completely dissipated from her body, Alice Comstock’s face remained striking. Xiahou Yan saw that the swordsman’s long hair was still tied up in a bun as usual, but it now carried a faint brown hue from being soaked in blood, rather than its previous radiant, flowing gold. He slowly shifted his gaze, taking in her slender eyebrows that curved like a flexible sword, her tightly closed eyes, her straight nose, and her thin lips. Alice Comstock’s skin had always been fair, but now—perhaps due to massive blood loss, or simply because death had descended upon her—her cheeks appeared a pure, unblemished white under the lamp’s glow. It reminded Xiahou Yan of the fresh winter snow back in his hometown on Earth.

Only then did Xiahou Yan look at the fatal wound that had caused the swordsman’s death. Right in the center of her neck was a long, deep gash, the congealed blood having turned completely black. The jagged edges of the wound were enough to prove that this was not caused by a weapon, but by the clawed strike of a zombie.

Xiahou Yan stopped looking further down. He placed the oil lamp near Alice’s head, casting light on only half of her face while leaving the other half shrouded in darkness. He bent down and sat cross-legged beside the swordsman’s corpse, paying no mind to the dirt on the ground. He stared at Alice’s face for a while longer. After a long silence, he finally spoke:

"This is our first meeting, Captain Alice Comstock."

The swordsman’s corpse naturally could not answer. Only the flame of the lion oil lamp trembled slightly. Xiahou Yan was not expecting a response anyway. He paused for a moment and continued muttering in a low voice:

"My name is Xiahou Yan. ’Xiahou’ as in the historical general Xiahou Dun, and ’Yan’ as in the descendants of Yanhuang. Of course, Captain Alice, you definitely don’t know what any of that means. To you, I suppose I am still your Lord, the patriarch of the Igor Family, and the former Imperial Duke, Eliot Igor."

He lifted his head slightly, staring wistfully into the darkness of the tent. "Actually, Alice, even I am a little lost. Why was I the one to cross over to this world? From now on, will I have to survive in this unfamiliar Otherworld under this completely foreign identity?"

Xiahou Yan spaced out at the darkness for a moment, then looked down at Alice’s tightly shut eyes and smiled apologetically.

"Sorry, I’ll leave these philosophical questions about life and transmigration for the web novel authors back on Earth to worry about. Since I’m already in this world, I might as well just accept my new identity."

The swordsman remained absolutely motionless, but in Xiahou Yan’s heart, it felt as though he had just crossed a major hurdle.

"Therefore, I am the patriarch of the Igor Family, an Imperial Feudal Lord, and the master you, Miss Alice Comstock, swore lifelong fealty to," he murmured, gazing at the dead swordsman. "A few hours ago, you gave your life to protect me. For that, I offer you my heartfelt gratitude."

He gave the swordsman a slight nod as a salute, then continued, "Dear Alice, I know you were a loyal Captain of the Guard. In life, you always valued my safety above all else. I am also well aware that if you hadn’t unfortunately died, you definitely would have joined my maid Anjie in agreeing with Master Laurie’s proposal—which is to have me abandon all my subjects and flee the infected zone alone under the protection of the guards."

Xiahou Yan picked up a twig from the side and carefully adjusted the wick of the oil lamp, slowly shaking his head.

"But... I must reject this proposal. The education I received in this world tells me that nobles should bear the responsibility for their subjects; the education I received on Earth tells me that rights and obligations are equivalent. Since I enjoy the title and privileges of a Lord, I must also bear the duty to rescue and protect my subjects during a crisis."

Alice’s features flickered in the dancing firelight. One could only wonder what the swordsman, now resting in the afterlife, would think of her Lord’s speech.

"Besides, I’m a bit selfish too." Xiahou Yan revealed a self-deprecating smile. "Since I transmigrated from Earth to another world, I should at least be treated like the main character of a transmigration story. Just running away on my own really doesn’t fit the classic hot-blooded hero trope."

He chuckled at his own dry joke, then tossed the twig aside and stood up. Looking down at Alice, he said solemnly, "But, Captain Alice, you must also know how cruel reality is. Right now, our convoy consists of over five hundred people. The vast majority of them are the old, the weak, women, children, and peasants who have never received combat training. To protect everyone and escape this infected zone—which spans a hundred miles and is swarming with zombies—seven guards and Master Laurie are far from enough."

He paused, a look of sorrow and guilt washing over his face. "So, Miss Alice, please forgive me, but I have never needed power as much as I do now—both to protect others and to protect myself."

He slowly reached into his shirt and pulled out a tattered old book. On its dirt-stained cover, standing out just as strikingly as the blood-red "Banned Book" seal, was its black title: "Essentials of Necromancy".

Xiahou Yan gripped the book tightly, his hands trembling. He lowered his head and silently gazed at Alice Comstock’s face—a face whose beauty had been completely overshadowed by her heroic spirit. The eternally slumbering swordsman looked as if she were still ready to raise her sword and charge into battle.

"Therefore, Miss Alice Comstock, your Lord still needs your services. As a reward, I will give you trust, justice, and honor." Xiahou Yan bit his lip hard, immediately tasting the sweetness of blood. "...If I do anything wrong, I’m sorry."

He opened the book, found the Chapter on the Resurrection Technique, and took a deep breath.

"This is our first meeting, Captain Alice Comstock," Xiahou Yan said softly.