When I came to once more, I found myself still lying on the ground, the axe still embedded in my shoulder, my blood thoroughly soaking it.

After the shock of what just happened, it was only then I noticed that I did not feel any pain from the wound.

I could certainly feel it, but only that it was there.

The next thing I noticed was that I wasn't breathing, but even with this realization I felt no panic, no urge to freak out.

It was like I couldn't feel anything actually. No pain, no emotion, just my thoughts. Even without them though I could still feel apphrensive about this situation, the desire to survive transcending whatever situation I've found myself in.

Time passes and before I know it I'm trying to stand up, with difficulty considering the axe. I should take it out actually.

Gripping my hands on the rather long handle of the axe, I pulled it out, leftover blood dribbling down my chest and arm.

Looking closely at the axe, I notice it seems to be ancient, the rust that tortured me so in my last moments rather recent looking.

How I figured that, I don't know. I never learned anything about weapons beyond using them, and even then I tried to be subpar. But going by the wear of the extremely brittle looking wooden handle (which surprisingly felt firm) it seemed like there should be more rust for how old the weapon seemed to be.

Gathering my thoughts, I once more try to stand, finding much more success this time now I don't have the axe in me, even using it as a sort of cane to prop me up until I'm on both feet.

While my movements don't compare to when I was alive, feeling more mechanical and forced, not half bad for being dead.

Nearly forgot that part, I'm a zombie now. Perhaps I should come up with a new name for myself? I can't exactly use my old name, since I'm nobility. And I don't wanna be a noble zombie. That just doesn't sound cool.

Despite not feeling emotion, the idea of a bad reputation doesn't sit well with me, if I'm to spend my time as a zombie then I shall have some dignity.

I said that, but after many discarded ideas my uncreative self settles on Zombie.

My excuses for using it are that it's easy to remember, hard to forget, and a little bit of wanting to feel like a teenage rebel who came up with a cool nick name for himself.

Well, look at me now, I get to also make the name literal.

Besides, how many people are actually named Zombie? This and many more attempts to excuse my awful naming sense came and gone, until I noticed a shift in the horde.

Whilst I was thinking such deep thoughts to rival a poet I had been observing my undead bretheren. Each one was standing stock still, unmoving like scare crows in a field, save for a few exceptions of newly raised ones and some feasting on dead corpses.

I noticed though even the feeding ones had ceased, and the newly raised quickly blended in with the others, all in the horde unmoving as only the dead can achieve.

It was then I noticed that the necromancer had ceased his chanting, the death energy that had been seeking out the slain had begun returning to him. There was a extreme amount of difference between the amount he started with and what's there now.

The way death energy and Necromancy works in terms of magic, is unlike other magics it requires Death. Thankfully, Death doesn't actually mean someone has to die, at least not at the time it's used. Places of the dead, graveyards and that sort, are like wellsprings of the stuff. Though they can't compare to the instant amount a person can gather after a battle full of casualties, they're renewable and gradually get better the more corpses are buried.

I know this much from having once had a dream of being a necromancer. The idea of loyal servants who could never deny me nor betray me, nor judge me for that matter, was the selling point.

But I had not talent for magic, nor did my family want to be associated with a necromancer despite the tolerant view of the Empire.

So I got stuck being a soldier, in the Emperor's Future no less. The Emperor's Future being the destination of the army's finest recruits. The place I wanted to avoid at all costs.

I barely met the requirements to be a normal soldier, on purpose no less, yet why was I sent to them? My damned parents and their connections is why.

The Emperor's Future are the rising stars for the war machine that makes up most of the Empire lifestyle, our Emperor's future plans bloody and violent.

If it weren't for the fact that he's strong, charismatic, and producing results, I'd imagine he'd he ousted by a war weary nation. Instead his praises are sung, even by those he's conquering. It helps that the Empire has immense benefits for those under its rule, especially economically.

Economics aren't my thing, though, and neither is war. I wanted a cushy job just being some random guard, not having to go to the frontlines just to be sent back with praises but missing some limbs. I really wanted to just be a mage, my entire life set due to how awesome I am and my magic, having enough influence to choose what I do.

Instead, for some bullshit about earning our family glory I got sent to the Emperor's Future.

And now I'm a zombie, because the rogue necromancer seemed to have found an ancient tomb or something, and completely stomped our rookie asses. Undead, like zombies and other humanoids, are more effective at combat if the corpse they're raised from was also a combatant, something about muscle memory or some other explanation.

Judging by the axe in my hand and the gear of the zombies we faced, they fit the criteria to be good undead soldiers.

Not to say a zombie, even with good source material, is better than a trained soldier. But it is when those trained soldiers are outnumbered three to one.

The necromancer finally finishes retrieving his death energy, and it's now I notice he's joined by two others. Wait...

One of them is flanked on each side by a death knight body guard while the other has a chimera looking creature, the upper half of human bodies jut out from what resembles a war horse going by its size, each one armed with a blade in each hand. If I could feel fear I'd shiver at the thought of that thing ramming into a formation, the men passed being met by the blades, chopped and sliced.

The reason for my shock is because zombies, what I am now, are low tier undead. It wouldn't be a stretch to call them the bottom, but skeletons have that spot. Considering that the zombies we faced are ancient but aren't skeletons I can only assume some form of preservation magic or practice was used, the rust on my axe a sign it's no longer working for these bodies.

As it was, during the one sided slaughter we only fought against zombies, yet the creatures flanking the new arrivals are mid tier undead, serious threats in their own right. The pyramid only gets smaller as you reach the pinacle, but that doesn't mean it's easy to get there. And from what I know about Necromancy, which I've exhausted so far in explaining, is just to create the undead before me requires serious power.

It seems like whatever is at work here truly is a growing darkness poised to sweep the land....

And I just got conscripted on the side of evil.