《Necromancer and Co.》 Book 1, Chapter 1: The First Day Book 1, Chapter 1: The First Day
[Alen] Alen woke up with a start, stunned at the scene that surrounded him. Instead of his small room, his desk and his bookshelf, dead trees and cracked earth expanded out as far as he could see, the horizon obstructed by the sheer amount of withered trees and shrubs. What looked like a once-majestic forest was now reduced to a shell of what it once was, a brutal reminder that nothing beautiful stayed that way forever. He blinked a few times, getting the sleepiness out of his dark brown eyes as he touched the earth below. ¡°What the fuck¡­?¡± The soil was dry and as he picked a sample up, it was blown away by a slight breeze that smelled of something strangely sweet, putridly so. Where¡­ was he? He stood up and looked at the gray sky, feeling an uncontrollable shiver roll up his spine. He stood there for a long time, stunned. Alen frowned, his hands shaking at his eerily quiet surroundings. Seeing that nothing was going to happen just standing still, he forced his legs to move himself forward, into a portion of the forest that wasn¡¯t completely shrouded in darkness. He cautiously moved forward, but the silence caused his slow footsteps to sound as if he was stomping about, the beating of his heart thundering in his ears. The disgusting smell with a trace of sweetness seemed to follow him wherever he went, causing him to cough in an attempt to hold back his reflex to gag. Alen looked up at the sky, his surroundings weren¡¯t dark in the same way night was. Everything seemed to be coated in an oppressive gray, as the dark clouds above obstructed the sun like a sheet. ¡°Anyone there?¡± He looked around warily. ¡°This isn¡¯t a kidnapping attempt right? No weird uncle hoping to turn this into a rape scenario?¡± He laughed nervously at his own jokes. A sort of defense-mechanism he¡¯d developed over the years to ward off negative emotions. A damn good one, in his opinion. It was just being especially fucking useless this time around. ¡°I still need to finish my projects. I probably fell asleep while doing them,¡± He muttered. ¡°I don¡¯t have time for this kind of crap. It¡¯d be great if I woke the fuck up and actually did something with my life.¡± Alen had to admit, for a dream, this was awfully realistic. The sights, the smell, the sounds, everything was almost clearer than what he felt when he was actuallyawake. As for the thought that this wasn¡¯t a dream? Alen decided that thought could fuck off somewhere else. This was definitely a dream. Maybe a revelation from Buddha or something about how fucked he was in general. He stared at the plants surrounding him, not all of them were withered completely. Some still had leaves that were colored green, and the occasional shrub would display what looked like a dates, but with a blue tint and circular shape. Though he suspected the wrinkles were due to the lack of, well, anything good enough to support life, really. The sounds of rustling disturbed his thoughts, the sound of movement a welcome change to the crushing silence. Alen¡¯s face lit up as he moved towards the sound with a light jog, afraid that whoever made that sound would get away. Alen stepped out of the shrubbery with a smile that quickly morphed into a look of terror. Hunched over in front of him was a massive white bear, its back exposed at it gorged on a corpse. It was only then that Alen noticed the smell. It had been lingering in the surrounding area, that sweet smell. He should¡¯ve noticed it already, because he¡¯d smell it from the trash cans he passed on his way home every day. It was the sweet smell of decay. Accompanying it was a sloppy sloshing, and the sickening crunch of bones and tearing skin. He choked on the horrible sight, the smell activating his gag reflex. He stepped back and lost his balance, falling into the thick shrubbery behind him, the sound of branches snapping causing the white bear to stop and look back in his direction. Alen made himself as small as possible, hiding inside the withered bushes and suppressing his breathing to as low as possible, staring at the bear that seemed to stare right back. It began to move towards him, exposing the horribly decayed remains of the corpse it was just eating. It sniffed at the air, and Alen found himself examining the horrifying form of the creature further. Tartar lined its decaying, ruined teeth, and a disgusting mix of saliva and blood dribbled down its chin. On its back and legs where massive bone spurs that penetrated the skin, the surrounding area bleeding slightly and spouting yellow pus. The bear inched closer to him, the sniffing and twitching of its nose growing more frenzied. Alen could see the way its red eyes constricted as it stared at the bush it was inching towards. Right now, the bear just a a bit more than foot away from Alen¡¯s face, it¡¯s rancid breath blowing straight into his face. Just before Alen gave himself away, a low guttural roar came from behind the bear, which turned back to see a group of zombies sprinting towards it. It met the charge with a roar of its own and the engagement quickly turned into a mess of flying limbs and sputtering black blood. Alen used this chance to run away, scrambling onto his feet and sprinting deeper into the dead forest. He ran for a long time, and only stopped when his lungs felt like magma was churning inside of them. Alen collapsed on a heap beside a tree and panted as cold sweat dripped down his face. His body was sore, and his limbs had a few cuts in them, caused by the brambles that covered the dead branches of the shrubbery he fell into. It had pierced his clothing, and placed a few small cuts on his jacket and pants. He still couldn¡¯t properly process what had just happened. That monstrous bear the size of a large car, the crazed undead the surged forward to meet it, and the stinging cuts on his skin. He wanted to believe this wasn¡¯t real, but not taking it seriously and gambling on his life wasdefinitelya bad idea. He didn¡¯t want to end up as a puddle of blood on the ground, and with the very real pain he was feeling, he didn¡¯t want to risk getting eaten alive, dream or not. Alen sat, still. What was he supposed to do now? He definitely needed a place to hide. He¡¯d only noticed it now, but his surroundings were beginning to darken, and it would probably turn into the night-time equivalent of wherever the hell he was. Just as he was about to stand up, a ding interrupted his action. The young man stared blankly at the screen in front of him.
Sam: Hello? Adam: what the fuck? am I seeing this right? Bernard: 8========D~~~~ Adam: shut the hell up bernard, jesus christ. Sam: Ooooh my goodness. This guy. Anne: That took what, 3 seconds? Adam: oh hi anne.
The whole thing continued to ding, messages quickly flooding in from names that seemed very familiar with him. Alen was about to say something when a name he didn¡¯t recognize suddenly sprang up. This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.
Elissa: please help me Bernard: Same dude. Elissa: im bleeding¡­ I can¡¯t move Anne: Whoa, wtf? Sam: Um, what. Gavin: Lisa? what¡¯s happening? what the hell are these screens? Elissa: I don¡¯t want to die gavin¡­ Frank: Lmao, is this some sort of prank? Nice special effects, but I¡¯m calling the cops. I don¡¯t know how you fuckers roofied me, but you better get me off this goddamn jungle or I¡¯ll have my father sue you all. Gavin: where are you Lisa? are you okay? Frank: I¡¯m already onto you guys. Go on, I dare you. Victor: some homeless guy just stole my wallet! why am i in this medieval looking town? Gavin: Lisa! what the hell say something!!
The eerie messages continued. Alen felt a chill creep down his spine at what looked to be messages between other people. The Elissa girl had stopped sending messages. His friends had gone silent too, and soon, more people began to talk into the screen in panic and confusion. Alen counted at least 17 individuals including his friends among the people sending messages. What the hell was happening? Is this what he thought it was? Alen waved the screen away in a hurry as he heard groaning from farther away. He hurriedly got to his feet and hid behind the tree he was leaning on. Minutes passed without anything happening, but hedidnotice the occasional rustle, and the occasional groan of what he assumed to be more zombies. He grit his teeth. Staying here was only going to endanger him further. If another monster like that bear found him, he didn¡¯t have any confidence that he would survive the encounter. Mustering his courage, Alen started walking deeper into the forest, his ears desperately trying to pick up sounds from anything that might endanger him. He needed somewhere to hide in, get his bearings, and maybe ask the people in the message box what was happening when they finally calmed down. Memories of the books he¡¯d read online were flashing through his head, situations like the one he was in coming by the handful. Finally, he stopped walking as he encountered a small crevice on the ground. The earth had split apart, probably due to an earthquake, and created a hole the size of a very small room. Alen had encountered it by luck when he crossed some shrubs. His foot had suddenly sunk into the ground, and the next thing he knew, he had just finished rolling into the crevice. He¡¯d bit his tongue on the way down and fuck did it hurt, but he felt satisfied after feeling around the walls for the general size of the hole. It was too small for the bear to hope fitting into, and due to the surrounding area, Alen didn¡¯t even find any of the large bugs like centipedes that¡¯d usually make his skin crawl, nor worry about the safety of the little cave due to the dead plant life that faithfully hid it from sight. The outside of his little cubby hole was beginning to get darker, so Alen figured it was about time he opened the chat box again. It was a struggle, however, because he couldn¡¯t find it as an icon or something anywhere in his vision. Alen frowned. It had popped up out of nowhere the first time when Sam sent a message, but now that he¡¯d closed it, he couldn¡¯t even hear the incessant dinging that came out whenever someone sent a message. He could wave away the blue screen, which already confirmed a guess he had as soon as the little blue screen popped into his vision. What if¡­? ¡°Status,¡± Alen said, but nothing came into view. His shoulders drooped at the absence of the little blue screen. ¡°Menu.¡± Nothing. ¡°Start?¡± He frowned. Still nothing. Alen sat there, thinking. He was almost sure that his guesses were correct. It showed up once, so why wasn¡¯t it showing up again? He tried to recall what it was in those novels that summoned up shit like this. He imagined the form that he was trying to look at, a table, a status screen that displayed his stats, name, cla¡ª He blinked, and in front of him, his status screen slowly manifested into the image he had in his mind.
Status:
Name: Alen Race: Human Type: Forming - 13%
Health: 92% Stamina: 83% Mana: 0%
Strength: 8 Dexterity: 10 Agility: 7
Constitution: 9 Vitality: 9 Resistance: 8
Intelligence: 11 Wisdom: 10 Control: 13
Skills: None
Alen grinned. This was cool, he had to admit. It didn¡¯t show exactly how he was expecting, and he was surprised he didn¡¯t have any skills yet. He was expecting to have gained at least a skill in sneaking or something, but it clearly wasn¡¯t that easy. Alen waved the screen away. Next, he was going to summon the message screen. He figured out that visualizing what he wanted to see was the essential part, and so, he was able to bring it up again. People were still messaging in a panic, most where asking questions regarding their location, what was happening, and a few described what they¡¯d seen so far. From what Alen was able to gather, a good amount of people were sent here, to what he would assume was another world, and they were sent to separate locations. A few messages were asking for help in the same nature that Elissa girl was, but Alen chose to ignore those, for his own sake. He didn¡¯t want to imagine the fact that death was so easy here. If he let that affect him now, he would lose the little inch of mental stability he¡¯d managed to gain from the status screens. This was like a game; it had a system. Yes. It was better to think that way for now. Alen nodded to himself, customizing the message box as well. In the same way he could change his status screen¡¯s format, he could do the same to this as well. He didn¡¯t change much, he just made the text easier to look at. Sending messages was also a matter of visualization, as soon as the screen had appeared the first time, he instinctively knew how to send messages. He was sure that¡¯s how it operated for the others as well. Alen really did have to thank Sam for figuring this shit out first when he finally manages to get out of this forest. As for the customization, Alen just used the little knowledge he had in programming. Mostly just using HTML to keep things easy and simple. At least, it was that way when he didn¡¯t have to type everything like he usually did. Being able to make the program mentally basically removed most, if not all the frustration he felt whenever he programmed. It was hard to make a mistake when it was like this. Using the mental status screen-equivalent of a hyperlink, Alen made it so that the message box appeared as a small icon below his status screen, making it much easier to access. He also made the system equivalent of a note pad to store information in when he didn¡¯t have access to paper. Having both these functions appear as tiny icons below his status screen made Alen feel extremely happy. Proud, even. He didn¡¯t really consider the fact that he could just summon them straight up without having to open the status screen. Alen just considered it part of the aesthetic, and as an added plus, it¡¯d increase the frequency of which he¡¯d examine his status. Very solid reasoning, Alen. An hour definitely wasn¡¯t wasted for nothing. Aesthetic is important. Fuck practicality, He grinned at the thought and opened the note pad, setting his goals for the next day.
Notes: 1. Find some food and water. 2. Figure out how to make a fire. 3. Fix up the Cubby Hole. 4. Get out of the shitty forest. 5. Not get killed.
Alen nodded, satisfied with his results. Next, was checking inventory. Well, there wasn¡¯t much to check, he realized, as his bag didn¡¯t come with him. After two minutes of thoroughly checking his pockets, he had¡­ A watch, a pencil, his phone, his earphones, a jacket, a white shirt, and his jeans and shoes, and finally, a few coins and a piece of paper half-covered with scribbles inside his old wallet. He looked at the assortment of things in front of him and sighed. He was so fucked that it was unbelievable. His last memory was getting home after staying a night at Adam¡¯s house with the rest of his friends, having dinner with his family, and finally going to sleep. He leaned back and stared at his phone that was eighty-three percent charged. Even this thing would only last so long. Alen wondered when the next time he could enjoy a home-cooked meal and a warm bed would come. He was already feeling somewhat pessimistic, which was understandable after nearly getting killed by a corpse eating bear and his zombie friends. Alen plugged in his earphones and listened to some music. He was going to use this thing sparingly, but he¡¯d let himself experience some peace for at least a few minutes tonight. He set it at power-saving mode and set it aside, the beat of punk rock serving as a distraction as he pulled up the message box.
Neil: So, where are you guys right now? Derek: I¡¯m just walking along some road. I¡¯ll tell you guys when I reach a city. Anne: Aight. I don¡¯t really know where I am right now, I¡¯m also following a road, but I don¡¯t see anything beyond the horizon right now. I¡¯ll just go find a tree to sleep in tonight I guess. Adam: at least you¡¯re walking along a road anne. i¡¯m lost in some glowing forest but it¡¯s cool as shit Sam: I just saw a really big spider. Not like this. Alen: Hi guys, somehow not dead here. Anne: Is that you Alen? Sam: Hey man. Adam: holy shit i think i¡¯m lagging. alen isn¡¯t dead yet?
Alen laughed, it was good to see they hadn¡¯t been fucked over by anything yet.
Alen: Fuck off man, zombie bears are no joke. Anne: You alright? Alen: Yeah. I¡¯m hiding in a hole in the ground right now. Now all I¡¯m waiting for is the eventual starvation and bear-inflicted mutilation. Bernard: Dude. I just got a sword. It was stabbed into a tree by the lake I spawned in. Adam: wait, if anne, alen, sam, and you are here, you think james and jamal got dragged into this as well? Neil: Let¡¯s hope that those friends of yours don¡¯t have to put up with what we¡¯re going through right now. And from what I¡¯ve read, what others have finished going through. Bernard: I just wanna go through James dude. Adam: shut the hell up bernard holy fuck Alen: Well, I¡¯m going off to sleep. I¡¯m tired as shit. Adam: yeah, same here. i heard some howling and fuck me if i¡¯m headed there. Anne: Aight. G¡¯night dude. Don¡¯t die off somewhere. Alen: Yeah. I probably won¡¯t be using this messaging system for a few days. I have to figure out how to get out of this place without being slaughtered.
A faint ray of moonlight shone down through the entrance of Alen¡¯s cubby hole. He looked at it for a long moment before turning off his phone, the music he¡¯d lived most of his life with disappearing and being replaced by the oppressive silence of the dead forest outside. Alen placed his phone in a corner, along with the rest of his measly belongings with the exception of the watch, which he kept on. Alen covered his face with his hands and let out a long breath. Tomorrow, he was going to start figuring shit out. Maybe figure out magic. He¡¯d be damned if magic didn¡¯t exist here. He laid down and closed his eyes. Fuck everything else, magic builds were the master race. Book 1, Chapter 2: His Fears Book 1, Chapter 2: His Fears
[Alen] Alen stared at the plant with hunger in his eyes. It was a scary look, the one he had. In the pockets of his jacket were the berries that grew on this plant, a marble sized, wrinkly blue fruits that looked like a mix between a date and a blueberry. Though he¡¯d collected most of the berries on the shrub, he stared at the gray leaves and the slight moisture on their surface areas. These shrubs seemed to be the only plants that thrived in this area of dead plant life, but for some reason, even their leaves were gray. Most importantly though, if Alen didn¡¯t see wrong, he saw a small white rodent running away with one of the berries in its mouth when he woke up this morning. Over all, the plant seemed safe to eat from. He pushed that thought to the back of his mind, however. Alen simply stared at the plant and laid his jacket on the ground, before stripping off his shirt. He opened up the shirt like a sack and covered the dull gray leaves of the shrub, before tying it tightly. He didn¡¯t have a container, so he couldn¡¯t make full use of what he was making, but it would do for now. The shirt would eventually gather water from the plant¡¯s transpiration, and though it was a small amount, it would give him more time to find a more reliable water source. Alen put his jacket back on and zipped it up, covering himself once again. Behind him was the little hole he called his temporary home. Alen had used a sharp rock to mark the trees surrounding his home, and he kept in on his person both as a weapon, but mostly as a tool to mark the way back. The dry wind blew on his back as Alen moved forward carefully, making sure to mark the trees along the way. His nose had somewhat gotten used to the constant smell of decay in the area, but it still made him cringe whenever he left his hole. He tried to stay as alert as possible when he moved forward, not forgetting the sight of the zombies running towards the impossibly terrifying white bear. Alen tossed one of the berries in his mouth, cringing slightly at the sour flavor. The taste was as bad as sprinkling a small pile of salt onto a lemon before eating it, skin and all. That, mixed with the smell of pungent decay in the air, served only to lessen his appetite. The moisture that spread down his dry throat was very welcome though, and the cool, almost numbing sensation he felt after eating the berries calmed his mind a little. The forest was quiet, which was somewhat disturbing. The day before, the groaning and shambling of the dead were very prominent. The only time the forest was this quiet was when¡­ ¡­He¡¯d walked into the bear. Shit. Alen paled and bolted back towards his hideout, panting as he leaned against a tree. He grabbed the sharp stone and furiously marked the trees in the direction he came from. That was his danger zone. The big no-no spot. ¡°Fuck me¡­ should I just catch one of those rodents or something?¡± He muttered, scratching his head. He¡¯d read a bit about survival online, but he didn¡¯t know jack-shit about making traps to catch rodents. The ones he saw were larger than normal mice, so he doubted he could make an effective trap. Plus, what was he supposed to do about fire? He knew about the sticks and banging stones together, but fuck, that was easier said than done. Looking at the gray clouds that covered the sky and his relatively bright surroundings, Alen sighed and started walking in the direction opposite to where he suspected the bear was in. A few minutes passed, and there were a few close calls with the zombies walking around, but they were sparse and dumb enough that Alen hadn¡¯t gotten into any situations that were too dangerous. On his way, Alen collected a generous amount of the sour wrinkly berries that grew on the strange shrubs. He walked for a while, marking trees along his way, and eventually found what looked to be a small battleground. Littered all over the ground were broken swords and shredded armor. The shields he found were mostly leather, and had claw marks lining most of them. Alen started scavenging for anything useful, trying to ignore the smell that clung to the armor, and the lack of corpses in his surroundings. Either this fight occurred a long time ago, or the corpses had been turned into undead by whatever it was that caused this forest to wilt. Because of his business, he forgot to even check if his surroundings were safe. A few trees were in the area, but some were snapped in half, making the place more open than it already was. Alen was in the middle of inspecting a broken sword when a low growl made him jump. Immediately afterwards, what looked like a blur crashed into him and sent him to the ground. Alen felt the air in his lungs get knocked out of him as he flailed around and pushed his assailant back. As he thrashed about, he felt his elbow connect with something slimy, and felt something wet squelch onto his face. His attacker howled and allowed him to roll to the side, Alen coughing and gagging as a horrible stench assaulted his brain. Alen stumbled to his feet and looked at the zombie that had caught him by surprise. Its face was swollen and a piece of flesh hung limply by its mouth, yellow pus dripping to the ground. Alen wiped his face with his sleeve, and finally couldn¡¯t hold it back. He keeled over and vomited on the ground. Hitting his chest, he looked up, his sight blurry from the tears as the form of the zombie rushed toward him with a growl. He dived to the side, coughing as he cringed at the rough ground that met his descent. The zombie tripped on his feet and fell to the floor, scrambling and grabbing his leg. It opened it mouth, about to bite, when Alen desperately drove his foot into its face repeatedly, disgust boiling in his stomach at the wet squelching sounds that came out whenever his foot made contact. The zombie finally let go, allowing Alen to crawl away further. He got on his feet and started to run, but he didn¡¯t get very far as the zombie tackled him from behind, its sharp nails raking across his back as it drove him against a tree. Alen tasted copper in his mouth. The zombie pulled at him, but he resisted strongly, causing both bodies to fall to the floor in a mess of flailing limbs and violence. He punched the zombie, his head hit the ground, and he kicked, pushed, and got hurt until he picked up one of the broken swords on the soil, which snapped to a sharp point, and stabbed it into the zombie¡¯s eye. It flailed, the sword threatening to slip off, until the zombie finally stilled, falling limply on top of him. Alen whimpered and shoved it aside in panicked disgust, his ears picking up the noises in the forest around him. A cold, numbing feeling entered his chest, but Alen paid it no heed as he limped away from the place, not even bothering to pick up the useful items in the ground. The rest of the way back was a blur. There was a thundering headache beating against his head, the stinging wounds on his back and leg, and the heavy feeling of exertion accompanied him as he avoided undead to the best of his ability. Finally, he made it back to his hole and promptly collapsed, falling into it and grunting painfully as he rolled down into the small crevice he slept in the night before. His face pressed against the cold stone, and the heaviness in his body caused his eyelids to slowly close¡­ Alen woke up in the middle of the night as a chilling numbness swept through his whole body. He arched his back as a violent tingling sensation pricked at his skin, leaving him gasping for breath as what felt like the blood in his body roiled inside of him, slowly churning and twisting and condensing somewhere in his stomach. The more it condensed, the more the feelings that rampaged through his body intensified, the numbness robbing him of feeling the cold stone below, and the violent tingling making him feel as if tiny needles were sinking into his skin, his pores expanding and contracting as if breathing in a mess of sensation and nothingness. He couldn¡¯t even speak, only writhing and twisting on the ground until the feeling of everything and nothing finally died down, leaving him gasping for breath. In front of him, a blue screen blinked into existence.
System Message!
By killing a creature on this plane, you have absorbed the ambient mana within its body! Due to this, your assimilation has been completed three days early, giving you access to this world¡¯s source of energy; mana, and the effects of the type you have developed. Starting from now, whenever a threshold of mana within your body is reached, it will improve your physical and mental abilities by an amount decided by your growth priorities and actions! Choose 3 growth-priority attributes from your status screen. Mana Type: Necrotic
Alen stared at the message for a long time. Then, with trembling hands, he slowly waved it away, and looked at his status screen. Most of his stats had increased by 1, and he was soon prompted to choose the three stats he would prioritize over the rest. Alen gave it some thought. For him, it was already long decided he was going with a magic build. In games, he was never a fan of fighting up close, and he usually always took a role associated with attacking from afar. He also remembered his fight against that zombie. It was already horribly decomposed, which Alen guessed was why it was so disgustingly soft and Alen shuddered to think this, weak. Its grip wasn¡¯t even as strong as his friends¡¯. Granted, Bernard, James, and Anne were all black belts, but this place was obviously incomparable to the standards of his old world. It was very true though, that that zombie had been relatively weak. Its speed was nothing compared to the ones that attacked the bear Alen saw on his first day, and although it had beaten him around, Alen suspected that was just his crappy physique getting in the way. And even though he had managed to kill it in the end, that was only because he was lucky enough to encounter it in the place he did, allowing him to use a broken sword to end it in a fit of desperation. Had he met that zombie in the forest¡­ Alen paled. Breathing slowly, he calmed himself. No use thinking about things that didn¡¯t happen, he told himself, looking back at his screen as a distraction. Now where was he? Yes. Stats. The stats. His mana type was necrotic, and he suspected this was going to affect how easy it was for him to cast spells of different types, if he was able to at all. As the system said, his mana was influenced by the ambient mana. He recalled seeing it on his status screen the other day, set as: Type: Forming ¨C 13%. It looked like his type was already manifesting the day before he even killed the zombie. If he hadn¡¯t killed the zombie, would he have ended up with a different type? Possibly not, because the entire forest surrounding him was dead, which would¡¯ve probably still given him some form of death-type mana considering how the message said he was basically absorbing the mana in his surroundings passively. How about now though? If he killed a fire elemental, would his mana type change again? Or was it set to Necrotic forever? He frowned. This system was getting complicated. Would it have hurt to have given them a fucking tutorial? Alen shook his head and focused back on the stats. Necrotic. This¡¯d usually give me crap like Ray of Sickness and Raise Undead. So if my mana is set to this type, it¡¯s probably best for me to go with one of my favorite schools of magic. Necromancy, Alen thought to himself, a small smile on his tired face. He figured that since he was going for a magic build, he might as well set the priorities to the bottom row of his stats, the ones that seemed to be related to magic. Control, Intelligence, and Wisdom, the priorities in decreasing order. Satisfied, he looked at his status screen again. Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.
Status:
Name: Alen Race: Human Type: Necrotic
Health: 43% Stamina: 71% Mana: 100%
Strength: 9 Dexterity: 11 Agility: 8
Constitution: 9 Vitality: 10 Resistance: 8
Intelligence: 12 (++) Wisdom: 11 (+) Control: 13 (+++)
Skills: None
This probably meant that Control would get the most growth, while Wisdom would get the least out of the three. As for his reasoning for choosing what he did, in his experience in games and MMOs, Intelligence would usually increase the raw power of spells, Wisdom would increase the mana pool and regen rate, while Control would reduce things like cast-time and increase CC effects by a small amount. Since he was going necromancy, it might even let him control his undead better. He could be wrong, and might be messing up his build by choosing them like this haphazardly, but this was the most he could do. Better to have priorities than none at all. Alen nodded, this was good enough. Now, with access to mana, getting out of this forest was going to be much easier. His stats would grow and he would¡ª Alen stopped, the satisfied look turning into a look of horror. ¡°No. No, no. Nonono,¡± He opened up his status screen again in a hurry and looked at the bottom. Skills: None. He paled, pressing at the blue screen and trying to change his priority stats.
Priority Attributes may only be changed after hitting the next mana threshold.
¡°Fuck!¡± He covered his face with his hands and screamed. ¡°I¡¯m a fucking dumbass! Shit!¡± Alen had realized one thing. He didn¡¯t know any magic. In front of Alen was a small black cloud. It had a greenish tint to it, and the fist-sized sample lightly rested atop his palm. It churned a little, twisting and moving in place, but overall staying the same shape. Suddenly, Alen let out a breath and the cloud faded away. The concentrated look on his face disappeared as he sighed and leaned against the wall. He¡¯d been messing around with magic for a while now, and he¡¯d managed to accomplish making his mana visible, having it condense, expand, or move in a line, while also compiling what he had gathered about the system in his note pad. So far, he¡¯d gathered these things: One, the mana threshold thing was basically a glorified EXP-leveling system. Kill shit, absorb its mana, level up. Except, there were no levels, and passing the threshold would instead increase his stats, with his three priority attributes increasing the most. Two, regeneration had been sped up by a large amount. Though it wasn¡¯t as powerful as regenerating a grave wound within an hour. The wounds he¡¯d gotten from that zombie, which were admittedly light, were already in the late stages of scabbing. He suspected that he¡¯d be fully healed by tomorrow, or by the day after at the very most. Three, magic was hard as shit. Either he didn¡¯t have the talent for it, or he was going about it the wrong way. He could feel the mana in his body, it was gathered in a place near his stomach, and it would periodically pulse, traveling throughout his body. When he used magic to manifest his little necrotic mana cloud, the magic in his stomach was tugged at, before gathering where he wanted it to gather. He could accomplish this easy enough, but making that mana into a spell? He had no idea how to do it. He could make the cloud do simple things, sure. But what about making it into an offensive attack? A debuff? Hell, how was he going to raise the dead? Alen opened up the message box and typed in a message.
Messages
Neil: I talked to some people that looked like merchants a while ago. They said this continent¡¯s named Redaria. I got a few weird looks thrown my way when I asked what this planet was called. Gavin: hey Neil, are you anywhere near the sea? i¡¯m staying at some fisherman¡¯s home, but i need some help getting out of here so i can find my friend Lisa. these fuckin crabs are assaulting the village and i can¡¯t leave because no one will help me. Camila: I just want to get out of here, but that doesn¡¯t look to be possible. I¡¯ll ask around about a way to get back to our homes. Neil: I¡¯ll do the same. I have a little brother back home to take care of. Alen: So uh, anyone know how to use magic?
Alen left the message there. He¡¯d check again in a few minutes to see if anyone answered. He waved the message box away, satisfied with its new look. It even displayed how many messages he¡¯d missed at the top left of the icon. He¡¯d tweaked with it a while ago, changing the HTML-ish program he¡¯d used to make it look better. Still, to think that even summoning up the screen used mana¡­ How did he know this? There was a small tug at his stomach whenever he tried to summon it, the same tug he felt when he used his mana. Though the mana used was so miniscule that his mana didn¡¯t even go below 100%. Now, back to fucking with magic¡ª Alen paused. ¡°Don¡¯t tell me¡­¡± He summoned up a ball of black mana, and started writing up a ¡®program¡¯ for it in the same way he fiddled with his blue screens¡¯ format. He didn¡¯t use anything like an HTML or JavaScript format though, it was more like lines of information that dictated how the ball would behave, and the kind of things it shouldn¡¯t do. ¡°Expand and contract¡­ something like a do-while loop to repeat the action¡­ Then, it moves forward, and when it touches a surface, it¡¯ll dissipate¡­ There we go,¡± Alen let the ball loose, and as ¡®programmed¡¯, it began to expand and contract from the size of a fist to a basketball repeatedly until it touched the cave wall on the other side of the room. The ball of black-green mana slowly spread outwards, before completely dissipating. When he checked his status, the spell had depleted about 2% of his mana. Alen stared at the wall with a complicated look. He really was a dumbass. It was a good thing he opened up that message box. Speaking of which¡­
Messages
Neil: Magic exists? I was thinking about that too, but I didn¡¯t have any way to confirm it. This really is a fantasy world, huh? Jasmine: what, have you like, picked up how to use magic?? Derek: So I reached that city I was talking about, But some guards won¡¯t let me in. something about Identification. Derek: oh Wait. They found out that I just got here from my clothes. called me a ¡®new arrival¡¯ and let me in. something about giving me work to do. Sam: Alen, wait a sec. Alen: I haven¡¯t picked up magic yet, no. I really want a magic build though. And what was that Sam? Sam: Ooooh my goodness, I said wait. Neil: Make sure you keep us updated Derek. Jasmine: i¡¯d rather have directions to the closest town¡­
Alen didn¡¯t want to disclose that he could somewhat use magic and closed the chat. Not to mention the fact that he barely knew what he was doing with his own magic, he was not going to waste his time answering questions about something he knew next to nothing about when he was still stuck in this god forsaken forest. And what the hell was Sam doing? Alen talked to the guys in the chat a bit more before a new screen appeared over the message window.
Initializing¡­
You have received a Chat Room invite from Sam#2574
Accept Refuse
Alen blinked. Huh, looks like he wasn¡¯t the first to start fucking around with mana. That, or Sam was doing it without realizing that he was using magic the whole time. Alen pressed accept almost hesitantly.
Egg Chat Room
Alen has joined the room. Bernard: hey alen Alen: What. Bernard: 8=====D~~~ Anne: 8=========D~~~~ Adam: 8=D~~~ James: C====8~~~~ Sam: Ooooh my goodness guys, what the hell. Adam: its all ¡®cause you failed the voice call option sam Anne: Yeah Sam, maybe if you weren¡¯t so gay, we¡¯d actually be in a call right now. Sam: WHAT DO YOU EVEN MEAN Bernard: look at him. Don¡¯t worry Sam, i¡¯ll pray for you
Alen closed the chat room wordlessly and set it as an icon beside his note pad. He¡¯d check on the place later. His friends were most likely passing the time as they walked. Good for them, he thought. He was in a forest full of undead that wanted to tear him apart. He sighed and looked outside his little cubby hole, the moon was high up, but he couldn¡¯t fall asleep. Alen decided to just use up the time creating spells and occasionally talk to his friends if he managed to deplete his mana. He spent the whole night devising a few spells, but most of them were relatively useless. The only spell he was able to make that was offensive in nature cost 30% of his total mana and it was pretty weak. He had to adjust the power and mana efficiency still, too much was being used forming the spell instead of powering it. Mid-way through his experiments, another system message popped into existence in front of him and caused a grin to break out on his face.
System Message!
Congratulations! You have created the skill Mana Programming! Due to the nature of the skill, skill trees are unavailable, and the skill cannot be improved by the system.
Alen gaped and continued experimenting. With the skill, creating his spells became much easier. He found himself making less errors, and soon, he was able to improve the efficiency of several of his experimental spells, creating a greater effect. Seeing that he was already somewhat proficient with the new system, he finally started the creation of the spell he wanted to create. Due to not knowing how corpses were animated, Alen had no hope of copying the way the corpses were raised. Not until he could examine an actual animated specimen. He was, however, definitely not risking trying to capture a zombie just to examine it. He was a little less stupid than that. He looked at the rays of sunlight shining down from above his hole and grinned. Maybe he really could get out of here safely. Alen stood in front of the exit of his cave for a long time. Where did his motivation go? What would happen once he left? He only had a single spell to put his faith in. Should he really go out? It was too dangerous. Yes, that was it. Alen didn¡¯t think he should go out with just this spell. He should spend more time in here using his Mana Programming skill to make better spells. Some that could protect himself. He was going to make more spells, and he was going to continue with his plan, and he was getting out of this forest. Alen knew he could only get so far without testing his spells, but he disregarded that thought. Outside was dangerous. Outside was painful. Outside was going to kill him. He wiped the cold sweat that had gathered on his forehead. Huh? He was sweating? Alen frowned at the heavy feeling in his chest. What was happening? He looked at the exit once again, the light that come from above. Outside. Alen looked at it for a long time. He slowly turned around, walking to the corner of the small hole he called home and began to experiment on his magic once again. This was the way. He would go outside eventually. Alen repeated this to himself, as if to prove something. Eventually, the berries that he had gathered from yesterday had begun to slowly dwindle in supply. It had covered as his food, and the juices had kept him hydrated, but he was running out. He would collect more later. When he had even better magic. Better than the ones he had already improved. Hours passed. Alen was still experimenting. He was getting thirsty. Alen remembered his shirt that was wrapped around a bush right outside. He should probably collect the water from there. There should be a lot gathered in the cloth by now. He could sate his thirst with that. Alen looked at the exit once again. Outside. He continued to stare, his throat dry, and cold sweat on his back. Outside was dangerous. Outside was painful. He would stay here, and make his spells. Yes. That¡¯s what he would do. His thirst could wait. Eventually, the glow of the sun disappeared. Alen had created a few more experimental spells. His offensive ones seemed strong to him now. He wasn¡¯t happy though. Alen had a blank expression on his face as he stared at the cave exit with bloodshot eyes. Were his spells strong enough to go outside? ¡°No.¡± Alen murmured, pulling at his hair as he groaned. Outside. He needed to go outside. He needed food. He needed water. He needed to get out of this forest. But outside¡­ the world outside was painful. It was dangerous. He wouldn¡¯t survive. He¡¯d be discovered by another zombie and¡­ He¡¯d die. Alen looked weakly at the now dark exit. He¡¯d be torn to shreds. Eaten. A single bite at a time, and those sharp, rotting, claws would rip his flesh one strip at a time. Outside was painful. Dangerous. Outside was going to kill him. Outside was terrifying. Alen noticed his trembling. The sweat that rolled down his back, and recalled the feeling of being unable to take a step forward as he stood in front of the exit this morning. Then, he realized something that he had been desperately denying as his eyes started to close from stress. He was in denial¡ªhe wasn¡¯t staying in here to improve and create new spells¡­ Alen was just afraid. Book 1, Chapter 3: A Step Forward Book 1, Chapter 3: A Step Forward
[Alen] A young man stood in front of a hole that led upwards. Light shone from above, and small glimpses of the dreary gray sky could be seen from the opening. He stood still, grasping a sharp rock in his hand until his knuckles turned white. He had bags under the bloodshot eyes of his gaunt face. His black hair had streaks of white in them, the same color of white that colored the furs of the corpse-eating beasts in the forest he currently resided in. His black hoodie was torn in numerous places, and his jeans were covered in dirt and blood. The most noticeable thing about him however, were his emerald green eyes. They hadn¡¯t always been like that, for they were a dark brown in the past. But as he stayed in this world, changes had slowly been occurring to his body, changes that the young man didn¡¯t care to notice. Behind him was a dark little crevice. At the corner was a pile of belongings, a dirty pencil, a piece of paper full of unintelligible scribbles, some berry seeds, and finally, an object that didn¡¯t exist in the world he was currently in; a phone, and the earphones that were plugged into it. The young man glanced at the items behind him and gritted his teeth, raising his foot to step forward. He took the first step, but faltered right after, returning his foot to its previous position. What was he doing? The look in his eyes reflected that very thought. He¡¯d wasted away in the cave for three days now, and the berries he had stockpiled had run out a day ago. He was thirsty. He was hungry. And he was angry. Alen was angry at himself. Even now, as he tried to force himself forward, his foot felt as if it was made of lead, and as he finally planted the first step, it had gone back to its previous position. This wasn¡¯t a curse, nor a disability. Alen was doing this himself. He hated himself for it. His face morphed into a terrifying expression of frustration and anger. He hated himself for being afraid, hated that he couldn¡¯t even take a step outside. He hated the fact that he finally entered the fantasy world he¡¯d always dreamt about, but ended up like this after a single encounter. He gripped the rock further, its uneven edges sinking into his skin. He gripped it tighter. Tighter. Until blood flowed down his closed fist. It didn¡¯t matter. It would regenerate in a day. He grit his teeth tighter, feeling as if they were about to shatter as he turned around and started walking to the corner he¡¯d lifelessly sat in for the last two days. He¡¯d sit there once again, and stare at what could have been. Like he¡¯d been doing for the past three days. What was he doing? Suddenly, Alen whipped around, his eyes burning with a fierce expression as he ran straight at the slope, the exit that led out of his cave. Every step felt heavier than the last, as if he was in an impossibly deep ocean, pressure squeezing his body from all sides as every part of his mind told him to turn back. Sit down back at his little corner of self-pity and die alone just like that. Forget himself and everything else, and let the fear take over until there was nothing left to fear. To hold his breath as he sank to the bottom and hoped for the best. He wouldn¡¯t. His appearance was no different from that of a corpse¡¯s, but he would not let himself die. ¡°Shut the fuck up!!¡± He screamed as he ran, grasping the sharp rock and stabbing it into the palm of his other hand roughly, he screamed again, pain, fear and anger mixing into as single roar as he burst through the exit, stepping foot outside for the first time in three days. His foot was caught by a branch and he tripped, rolling through shrubbery and feeling their brambles scrape at his skin. He tumbled past the shrubbery and collapsed on his back, panting as tears rolled down his face. He curled up and grasped his hand, slowly taking out the sharp rock with shaky breaths. In his rage, Alen hadn¡¯t cared for his own safety, and had stabbed the rock in forcefully. His wound was deep and spurted out an incessant flow of blood. He¡¯d even managed to gouge out a portion of his flesh. He cried for the first time in years, the suppressed feelings of despair and helplessness flowing out with the sharp waves of pain that battered his mind. He moved his mana and let it flow all over his body, its cold, numbing effect alleviating the pain in the same way it stilled his hunger. Alen slowly sat up, wincing as he cradled his left hand, and faced the source of his fears. In front of him was a zombie. It was in horrible shape. Its intestines trailed behind it due to its lack of a lower body. Something had ripped it clean off, leading the zombie to resort to pulling itself forward with its arms to move. The zombie had heard screaming from nearby, using is mangled arms to drag itself forward, it finally saw what it was looking for. A human. It laid still on the ground and stared at the human in confusion. It instinctively felt something deeply similar between it and the human in front of it. It was confused. Was this human something it should eat? Was this human part of its kin? The human approached the zombie with staggering steps and a face so pale it was reminiscent of a corpse. The zombie looked up at the corpse in front of it. Maybe this human and itself truly were kin after all¡ª It stilled in its movements as a sharp rock was shoved into its eye, ending its un-life. The zombie had made a miscalculation. The human in front of it was not a corpse. Alen had taken his life back, and he was not going to let himself die a second time. Alen ravenously devoured the berries he¡¯d taken half an hour to gather, ignoring the horribly sour taste to fill his stomach. Afterwards, he took the old shirt wrapped around the shrub beside him and squeezed with his unwounded hand, water flowing down into his mouth in a steady trickle. Draining the shirt of a few days¡¯ worth of water, Alen felt satisfied. Gritting his teeth through the pain in his left hand, he ripped off a part of the shirt before tying the larger piece back over the shrub. He took the small strip of cloth and began to wrap it around his left hand like a bandage. He winced as he wrapped it tightly, but thankfully, the surge of necrotic mana he¡¯d gotten from killing that zombie temporarily numbed the pain in his body enough for him to gather food and bandage his hand. He stood up and stared at the forest around him. Somehow it felt¡­ less terrifying than he expected. It was creepy, sure, but in the days he¡¯d cooped himself up, the image of the forest in his head continued to morph into a more and more terrifying form. Now, it was kind of disappointing, in its own twisted way. The forest was as quiet as always, especially in the direction of the corpse-eating white bear. Alen decided it was about time he went back to the old battleground. That place had a lot of items and scraps he could use, and if his new spell worked, it would make his way out of the forest easier. Just before he could head in that direction, he heard a familiar shambling and sound of movement to his left and back. He froze, the fear once again seizing him for a moment before he flinched from the pain of subconsciously tightening his injured hand into a fist. Alen snapped out of it and quickly moved behind a tree. He wasn¡¯t going to be a little bitch about this. He wasn¡¯t going to be a pussy, he told himself, cursing under his breath as two zombies tumbled into sight. These two had probably heard his screaming a while ago and decided to check it out. The two zombies milled about, before gorging on the body that Alen had just killed. He grimaced at the sight, looking away before letting out a breath to calm himself. Alen crouched down and hid behind some bushes. Looking at the two zombies, he held out his hand and formed a ball of his mana, using his Mana Programming to remake the spell he¡¯d created and improved over the last three days. Within less than two minutes, he finished. Three days of experimenting taught him how to efficiently create this spell, shortening the creation process. Though he was hoping that he¡¯d learn how to cast it instantly, that was something he¡¯d worry about at another time. Alen let the little ball go, the mana program turning it into a tendril as it slithered toward his target. He¡¯d created this spell after figuring that undead were kept moving through some sort of magic in their rotting bodies, and created this program to replace that mana with his. If he could do that, he could take control of one of the zombies and go from there. Or at least he hoped so. ¡°Come on cunt, I choose you,¡± Alen muttered as the black tendril entered the zombie. A few moments passed, and the zombie collapsed to the ground, unmoving. He stared at it in a daze. What the fuck just happened? Alen looked at it and felt a tug. He frowned and looked down at where his mana gathered. It tugged again. And just as Alen was about to see what was wrong, he suddenly felt a large chunk of his mana slip out of him, entering the collapsed zombie in a thick cloud that was visible to only him. The corpse twitched around on the ground, ignored by the other zombie as it busied itself on eating its kin¡¯s rotted intestines. Eventually, the zombie on the ground stopped twitching, and Alen felt a sort of connection between both of them. It felt disgusting. To him, it felt like there was a little thread that tied him and the corpse together, and it caused his stomach to churn¡ªand not in the mana-way. Alen looked at the still corpse and thought for a moment. What now? He let a ¡®program¡¯ flow through the thread. Not really a complicated program in the same way he created his spells, but more like a command in the same vague-as-shit magic-y format. Alen blinked as the zombie stood up, following his command. This was easier than he thought. Just as he thought this, a notification popped up in front of him. Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
System Message!
Congratulations! You have created the skill Control Undead! Skill trees are available for this skill. Unlock them by improving this skill further.
Alen grinned despite himself. He had to admit, this was cool. Now, it was time to see what this zombie could do. He let a command flow through the thread, telling the zombie to fight and rip out the throat of the other zombie as its main priority. His first zombie, which Alen had promptly named Cunt in his head, moved, diving at the other zombie and digging its nails into its kin¡¯s rotten skin. Cunt immediately went in for the kill, biting at the throat of the other zombie as its right eye was gouged out by its enemy. The other zombie bit at Cunt¡¯s shoulder, tearing at the flesh as the two zombies flailed about on the ground, tearing each other apart. At this rate, his first zombie wasn¡¯t going to survive this encounter, so Alen decided to intervene. Changing Cunt¡¯s primary directive to self-preservation, Alen began recreating his other spell. This one only took about 10 seconds to re-program, as it was simple enough, especially with his three days of tinkering with the spell. He designated the zombie as the spell¡¯s target, and let it loose, the cloud of black-green mana rapidly turning into a needle as it flew. It hit the back of the zombie, which had gotten on top of Cunt, and did what his spell was created to do. Wreak utter havoc. The magic compressed in the needle rapidly expanded in multiple directions, turning into a viscous black-green liquid that ate away at the flesh of the zombie, rotting it even further as the decaying properties of necrotic mana were put on full display. The partially exposed spinal column of the zombie began to weaken as well, making its movements slower. Taking this chance, Alen ordered Cunt to move out from under the zombie and focus on destroying the slowly decaying part of the spinal column. Cunt used both legs to push the zombie away before standing up and avoiding a swing of the zombie¡¯s claws, getting behind it and digging its own claws into the zombie¡¯s back. Cunt took that chance to rip out a piece of the spinal column, robbing the zombie of movement. Alen ordered his zombie to crush the enemy¡¯s head with a rock, and the battle ended just like that. The cold, numbing feeling of mana surging into Alen¡¯s body made him shiver. He didn¡¯t think he¡¯d ever get used to that sensation as he felt the goosebumps on his skin. He ordered Cunt to move the two dead zombies far, far away from his cubby hole to take away the disgusting smell of rot. Seeing his new minion go to work, Alen let out a breath of relief. He felt repulsed every time he was near Cunt, even a little afraid that it would slip out of his control. Alen tried his best to ignore those feelings because this plan was his best hope of making it out of the forest. Alen looked at the message that told him he¡¯d passed his mana threshold opened up his status screen. He was curious as to what a level up would do to him.
Status:
Name: Alen Race: Human Type: Necrotic
Health: 68% Stamina: 55% Mana: 48%
Strength: 10 Dexterity: 11 Agility: 9
Constitution: 10 Vitality: 11 Resistance: 9
Intelligence: 14 (++) Wisdom: 13 (+) Control: 16 (+++)
Skills: Mana Programming, Control Undead
His stats had mostly increased, but his three priorities had truly gotten a disgusting amount of growth. Just his Control alone went up a whole three points. He hoped this rate of growth wouldn¡¯t slow down, but it looked like he would have to see. He could feel it in the way his mana churned, but the next threshold wasn¡¯t going to be passed just by killing a few more zombies. It looked like it increased exponentially every time he passed it. Alen looked at his remaining mana. The Control Undead spell really took a lot out of him. A whole 40% of his mana was chunked away just like that. Seeing that he¡¯d passed his threshold, Alen changed the priorities, setting Wisdom as the highest, and Intelligence as the lowest. He still wasn¡¯t sure what Intelligence or Control did, but he was certain that Wisdom had increased his mana pool by at least a bit. He waved away the screen and looked at the icon that represented his friends¡¯ private message server, and sighed. No. He¡¯d talk to them tonight, but right now, he still had things to do. His mana was probably still small in comparison to this world¡¯s standards, hence why he decided to prioritize Wisdom first. He had about enough mana for another Control Undead spell, so Alen decided to head towards the old battleground, his first zombie Cunt trailing behind him. Eventually, he spotted a lone zombie and casted Control Undead, waiting a few seconds for his control to fully take hold. Having the zombie stand up and feeling the two strings of mana that connected him to his minions, Alen felt satisfied despite the disgust he felt. He was determined to focus solely on other undead minions after he got out of this place, and develop spells that would let him create those and raise the dead, but for now, beggars couldn¡¯t be choosers. Cunt and Alen¡¯s second zombie, Dickwad, gathered scrap from the ground as commanded, picking up useable equipment and weapons. Most were ruined, but could still barely be made use of. As his zombies collected the items, Alen stared at the decayed corpse of the first zombie he had killed. The wound on his back, the one that had long healed, stung for some reason. Alen¡¯s jaw trembled, and he walked away, sitting down on a stump and surveying his surroundings. He refused to get ambushed at the exact same place again. He probably didn¡¯t have to worry about his zombies, but he was a prime target for the undead that roamed this forest. Alen wondered if there were skeletons anywhere here. Alen looked and saw that his zombies could carry no more. Nodding to himself, he led the way back, avoiding undead carefully. Minutes later, he entered his little cubby hole and ordered his zombies to dump their finds inside before sending them away. He suddenly paused however, as the invisible string of mana that tied him and the zombies together grew taut. He hurriedly ordered Cunt and Dickwad to return, closer to his hole. About 10 or so meters away from his crevice. Alen frowned. If he pushed those zombies farther, would they escape his control? He wanted to get as far away from them as possible, but it seemed that wasn¡¯t possible. Well, he would test it later, when he had enough mana to regain control of one of them if pushing them too far really did destroy his command over them. If so, his spell was pretty flawed. Alen guessed that the skill trees would help a lot, but he apparently had to improve his skill to even unlock them. Alen guessed it involved improving his mana program further. Sitting down and eating the berries he had gathered on the way, Alen squeezed the shirt he¡¯d brought along, sating his thirst at the water that dripped down. It quickly stopped though, which prompted Alen to wrap it around the bush again. It seemed he had to wait a day for a decent amount of water to form. ¡°Fuck me these berries taste like shit,¡± He grumbled, hesitantly biting into the berry and swallowing it right afterwards. Alen took away the cloth covering his hand and grimaced at the sight. He¡¯d been using his mana¡¯s numbing properties this whole time to suppress the pain, but he could still feel a portion of it. Added to the sight of the ugly wound, he couldn¡¯t help but wince. It wasn¡¯t as bad as before, displaying this world¡¯s effect on his regeneration, but it was still bleeding a little despite the fact that the flesh he gouged out had put itself back in. He cleaned the wound best he could with the non-bloodstained parts of the cloth and wrapped it around his hand again. In the few minutes he¡¯d been outside, his mana had returned to a crisp 61%. His watch told him he¡¯d been outside for about 20 minutes. It seemed like even mana regeneration was relatively fast in this world. He walked to the pile of ruined weapons and armor and tossed the more intact ones outside before ordering his zombies to put them on. He¡¯d see if they were capable of using swords tomorrow, because he was going to be experimenting for the rest of today. Hours passed, with him draining his mana as soon as it replenished, and soon, he was able to confirm a few things about his magic. First, Necrotic mana had three properties he currently knew of. Decay, numbness, and undeath. He¡¯d used the decay property for that attack he aimed at the zombie¡¯s spine, numbness to repress his wounds, and named undeath as the property that let him control undead. Second, creating a mana program was easier if he made it extremely long and detailed, but it seemed that making it concise and compressing all the little nuances into a line of code¡ªwill as he called it, would increase the quality of his spell. He¡¯d tried it with the decay-property offensive spell and not only did it increase in power by completely annihilating his test berries, but it also decreased in mana cost. He could cast ten in rapid succession without losing mana now. He¡¯d even gained a skill by improving it.
System Message!
Congratulations! You have created the skill Lesser Blightbolt! Skill trees are available for this skill. Unlock them by improving this skill further.
Now he could properly assume that ¡®improving¡¯ a skill meant increasing the quality of his mana program. Next, he would try to add extra effects to his skills, like possibly increasing the distance limit of Control Undead. Maybe that would unlock the first part of that skill¡¯s tree. He was also able to compress the Control Undead program to lower the mana cost. He tested this with the distance of the skill, which he discovered was about twenty meters. When his undead passed that mark, he would lose control of them. He quickly regained control of Dickwad using the new version of his spell, which instead of the original 40%, would only theoretically cost 30% of his mana pool to take over a zombie. He wasn¡¯t that amazing though. His changes most likely only lowered the cost by a bit, as he had a lot of trouble figuring out how to compress the spell¡¯s mana program. He suspected that the lower cost was mostly the result of his increased mana pool through leveling Wisdom. Alen also asked Sam about how he figured out changing the UI and the message screens, but he was told by Sam that he didn¡¯t really know what he was doing. Apparently, Sam was just going by the feeling to create it according to his imagery. Sam had also managed to pick up a bit of magic, things like making the air blow, or lighting a small fire with mana. It seemed he was most proficient in ice-type spells though, and had started eating ice cubes periodically. He¡¯d asked about his friend¡¯s location, and it seemed Sam was staying over at some Orc tribe, and the shaman had taught him a little about magic right after he assimilated, and left him to figure things out on his own. As for the rest, Adam had met some wood elves and was currently staying with them while doing tasks like helping them skin and hunt animals, while Anne and James had both tagged along with some traders and travelers, constantly on the road and hopping from city to city as they learned a bit of their groups¡¯ respective trades. James was learning how to make potions as compensation for his help, while Anne was being taught how to play the lute by some minstrels. Bernard meanwhile, had been pointed to becoming a blacksmith¡¯s apprentice, while Jamal was recruited into some country¡¯s spear militia. Apparently, it was nothing new in this world for people to randomly appear out of nowhere. Something about the gods and all that shit, as his friends said. They told him that it was common courtesy for the people of this world to help what they called ¡®new arrivals¡¯. That involved giving them jobs and a source of income until they could stand on their own two feet. Anne and Bernard had even decided to meet up, as the route of the minstrels Anne was associated with would pass the town Bernard was currently staying in. Sam had also shared his discoveries regarding customizing the system UI with the rest as well, but Neil and a surprising amount of others encouraged staying in the main message room to share information and the like. Alen cursed his own luck. Some people in the main chat room were still lost like him, and some had stopped sending messages altogether, which made Alen worried, but most had found people that were willing to help. Apparently, even the guy that got his wallet stolen in the first day was forcefully recruited into some thieves¡¯ guild and given work. He was the only one still standing around. Everyone else was moving forward, discovering the world, while he wasted away in this god-forsaken forest. A sigh left his mouth. He really needed to get out of here. Alen looked at his mana that rested on a solid 96%. It was time to gather an army of poorly equipped undead. Book 1, Side Chapter: Birth of a Terrorist Book 1, Side Chapter: Birth of a Terrorist
[James] James closed the chat window and stared at the items in front of him. Sunblossom petals, stoneroot, and yellowgrass. Grabbing his mortar and pestle, he grinded the stoneroot to powder as he turned up the heat of the Bunsen Burner-like item in front of him. His mortar eventually filled with the liquid that dwelled within the stoneroot. Furrowing his brow in concentration, he picked up the sunblossom petals and let his mana flow into them, watching as they withered at the visible rate. Suddenly, he threw them in the mortar and began to grind once again, the pieces of the petals soaking up the liquid and mixing with the stoneroot to turn into an orange colored mixture. As he did this, he took a moment to toss the yellowgrass into the boiling water in the flask above the burner, taking a glance to confirm that it was melting into the water before resuming his incessant grinding. Watching the water carefully, James poured the mixture of stoneroot and sunblossom into the vial, before drastically lowering the temperature of the burner. He sighed and wiped the sweat off his brow, watching as the water in the vial eventually turned into a bright red color. Turning off the flame, James took the health potion and walked up to his mentor, a traveling alchemist named Crux. The man looked at the red potion, inspecting it for a moment before giving it back to James. ¡°You forgot to put the yellowgrass into the water as the stoneroot began to ooze out its liquid, and now, the potion will heal for less than it should. The temperature of the flame when you lowered it was also 2 degrees too hot. Though it is an improvement from the poison you unfortunately created by accident the first time, it isn¡¯t enough to sell with the rest of my stock. Keep practicing.¡± James scratched his head in frustration. ¡°If I put in the yellowgrass that early, it would¡¯ve left the water by the time I finished mixing the stoneroot and sunblossoms! And how am I supposed to adjust the temperature properly when I there aren¡¯t any gauges on the burner¡¯s fucking temperature!?¡± ¡°You aren¡¯t maximizing your efficiency, that is why you are still considered too slow. As for the flame, either learn to adjust it by feel, or learn how to manipulate your mana properly,¡± Crux calmly said, tending to four different potions at once as he manipulated his materials with the motions of a master. He took one of the potions off of the burner, imbuing his mana into it and making it shine with a bright blue light before tossing it at James. ¡°Drink this and replenish your mana. I want to see thirteen more health potions by the end of tonight. For the rest of that time, I¡¯ll give you some spare materials to experiment. An alchemist creates his own potions.¡± James caught the potion and drank, sighing exasperatedly as he moved back to the corner of his camp fire. Crux smiled as he glanced at his student who was despondently creating potions. He¡¯d managed to pick up an unexpected talent, and from a group of new arrivals no less. If he handled this correctly, it could turn into something he didn¡¯t just do because it was common courtesy. The first time he¡¯d met this young man named James, they had run into each other on the road to Ateila, a village he frequented in this country. The young man was eating some listwort as he walked, a mushroom that was poisonous enough to kill a grown man that hadn¡¯t passed his first mana threshold within a matter of hours. He called out to the young man and offered to sell him an antidote after talking about the effects of the item he was eating, but noticed something peculiar about the mushroom. The pimple-like worts that protruded out of its cap was gone, and the color of the shroom had changed from the original sickly brown to a mellow beige color.Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings. The only reason he was able to identify the shroom in the first place was the unique blade-like protrusion of its roots, which the plant used to keep itself stuck to the brisled trees that populated the nearby woods. Later on, Crux had learned a few things from the young man. One, he was part of another group of the many people that the gods sent to this world on a yearly basis, and that this young man¡¯s use of mana was very unique. Most of the magic in this world was different, dependent on the person using them. It wouldn¡¯t be a stretch to say that every magic user was different from the rest, himself and his fellow alchemists included. James could use his mana to either enhance the properties of an item, or bring out an effect that was hidden within the item itself. In the case of the listwort, he was astonished to find that the young man¡¯s mana had somehow suppressed the poison, and had made it into an effective meal. It was packed full of nutrients, and a single handful could easily substitute for a day¡¯s worth of meals. The taste was bland and tasteless, but that was the only drawback he was able to observe. He¡¯d taken the young man in as a disciple because of this. If this power could be used properly, this young man would have the potential to send the alchemist community into a frenzy. That, along with the common knowledge of helping any new arrivals cope with the world they had been sent in, had resulted in him gaining a student to teach. After nearly a week of travel, he¡¯d managed to teach the young man basic techniques like refining and grinding, which both required a good amount of control in mana, and were one of the many universal techniques that could be learnt by anyone, regardless of how they manipulated their magic. His student even had a good affinity for it, quickly learning the technique and beginning the creation of potions a whole week ahead of what he had planned. Crux smiled. If James rocked the community in the future, he would have the honor of claiming to be the young man¡¯s mentor. As he was thinking this in the middle of creating a potion, an explosion suddenly shook the area to his left, causing him to spill the potion in surprise. Turning off the burners, he angrily walked to his disciple¡¯s area. What was that fool doing? He eventually found James staring at a small tree with his mouth agape. The trunk, which was the side of his bicep, had been blown clean off, exposing a small area covered in scorch marks. Frowning, he turned to James. ¡°What did you do?¡± ¡°I wondered if I could find an easy way to use the burner, so I took the fire crystal off from the slot and uh¡­ fiddled with it.¡± ¡°Didn¡¯t I tell you not to use your technique unless you were experimenting? And to only use it in front of me so I could make sure you didn¡¯t piss off some beast in the forest!? What happened!?¡± James laughed. ¡°I messed around with it trying to make it easier to use, when it suddenly just started glowing and heating up. It burnt my hand a little, so I pretty much just tossed it to the side. I didn¡¯t expect it to do this. That was awesome,¡± James pointed at the tree and grinned. Crux gritted his teeth at the wasted fire crystal and tossed a new one at James from his backpack. He turned and coldly left. ¡°Since you have the time to mess around with the burner, you should probably have enough to make twenty more vials by the end of tonight. Get to work. If I see you doing something like this again, I¡¯ll throw some real alchemist bombs at you.¡± James groaned in complaint and got to work after slotting the crystal back into the burner. If he¡¯d learned anything from the past week, this teacher-student relationship was somewhat compulsory, and Crux was not afraid to use force when it came to telling him off. He sighed and finished a potion. He was still too slow to accomplish what Crux was telling him about. James sped up his work though, glancing at the tree that had snapped in half and grinning. When he had time to experiment, he was definitely asking for more of those crystals. When he got good at what he was doing, he was going to blow shit up. He was going to 9/11 the fuck out of this fantasy world. Book 1, Chapter 4: Getting Out Book 1, Chapter 4: Getting Out
[Alen] Within the large forest to the south of Draenys, the fortress city known as the Undead Bulwark, a group of zombies had gathered. They wore horribly degraded equipment. The shields and swords on their hands were snapped and shredded, and only half of the undead wore barely functioning leather armor. The group marched¡ªrather, shambled forward at a steady pace, a young man with black hair lined with white streaks standing near the middle of the makeshift formation. He looked around nervously and put extra care into his steps, sending orders to his undead to stop groaning as they walked. The young man ordered the group of zombies to stop as he leaned against a tree, making extra sure that his phone and belongings were still with him. He nodded to himself after confirming, and minutes later, a zombie shambled out of the forest wearing leather armor. It stood in front of him and tried to do a salute, but it was terribly sloppy, and along with its hunched back, gave off a miserable sight. Alen sighed. ¡°Okay, stop. Just don¡¯t. Stop saluting,¡± the zombie stopped, staring at the young man with its dead eyes. Alen regarded the zombie. ¡°Fucklord, report.¡± The zombie stared at him and groaned. Alen sighed again. ¡°Fucklord, remember. One clap, no zombies. Two claps, one zombie. Three claps, more than one. Four claps, a group. Again. Fucklord, report.¡± Fucklord the zombie clapped three times, but it only produced the sound of slapping wet flesh. Alen cringed and ordered the zombie to head to the front of the group. Transmitting commands through the invisible strings of mana that connected him to his minions, Alen had them advance and prepare to attack any other zombies on sight, with the zombies wearing armor acting as the vanguard. All of the zombies had swords, and most had shields. Alen had wanted the back row to go as a ranged support, but zombies were unbelievably bad at throwing rocks. He¡¯d been advancing for half a day already. His zombies were fully equipped, and his pockets were full of berries. Alen had been in this forest for about five or six earth-days. His watch had become unreliable, because it seemed that a day was longer in this world. Alen had managed to create a few more spells since he managed to create Blightbolt, and his zombies, now equipped with the only useable equipment in the old battleground numbered at sixteen total. If he tried to dominate another zombie beyond sixteen, one of his current zombies would go out of control. As they traveled, Alen noticed the undead becoming weaker. The zombies he would encounter were about on the same level as the zombie he had first killed: extensively decayed, as fast as a quick jogger, not very strong, and didn¡¯t give him as much mana to absorb when killed. If he was right, then this direction was the way out of the forest. Soon, his thought were interrupted by the sounds of battle. Looking forward, his vanguard of eight zombies were fighting a group of four zombies. Alen sighed at how useless his scout was as he watched carefully. Whenever he saw a vanguard-zombie get into a sticky situation, he¡¯d order the unarmored support-zombies to go and help. A zombie had currently gotten on top of Fuckwad and proceeded to chew through his zombie¡¯s forearm. At Alen¡¯s command, two of the support zombies waded in, stabbing the offending zombie until it dropped dead. Alen felt a stream of the mana enter him again, and after a few minutes, he felt the last stream enter him as the fighting died down. Four in total. He sent Fuckwad out to scout again, and told the rest of his zombies to advance forward slowly. This was going to be a long day. Eventually, night settled in. Alen found a tree and managed to climb up without falling and breaking his legs. He was starting to see zombies less, but he still had his 16 undead set up a perimeter and patrol within a 25-meter radius of him. He¡¯d managed to extend the maximum distance of his Control Undead spell in his experiments, and had managed to increase the spells in his skill list by two. Spells he hoped didn¡¯t find a situation disadvantageous enough for him to use them in. He stared at the two zombies in the distance, about 10 meters away from him. He¡¯d swallowed his disgust and aversion of them so far, examining them and going as far as to let them surround him as they moved, but he still couldn¡¯t shake his discomfort. Alen shook his head. Back to jutting his notes down on the virtual note pad he¡¯d managed to fashion with the help of the system. He looked at it as his thoughts appeared on the blue screen.
Notepad
¡­Control Undead doesn¡¯t wipe everything inside an undead when I take control. When prodding an undead with mana, I found out that what flows inside of them isn¡¯t just my magic. There were strands of something else. When I interacted with those strands using my mana, I felt my muscles react, some shit superimposed with what I was really seeing. Blurry images of a soldier¡¯s training and movement. Not sure what this means yet, but I¡¯m assuming it¡¯s what lets the zombies process my commands. Part of the body¡¯s muscle memory and mental capacity are still in there, allowing the undead to do some basic functions. If I¡¯m correct, I can probably create a program that does just that. Find a fresh corpse of something, fuck that sounded wrong, and have my mana flow into the body. As for the strands of muscle memory and shit, I¡¯ll see if it¡¯s an automatic process completed by the spell, or something I have to program into my future spells to make use of. If the corpse isn¡¯t fresh, I¡¯m guessing the muscle memory and processing skills won¡¯t be as intact, as evident through the weak zombies that I¡¯m currently encountering as I move out of the forest(hopefully). Worst case scenario, maybe I can find a way to copy my muscle memory and motor skills to replace the ones that aren¡¯t present? That zombie will probably end up like shit, but that¡¯s at least another body to take some hits. Not like these zombies are very graceful when fighting anyways. Note to self, test this shit out as soon as I find a corpse that isn¡¯t walking¡­
Alen closed the notepad and yawned, leaning against the tree as he closed his eyes. Hopefully, he wouldn¡¯t fall off in the middle of the night. He didn¡¯t move much when asleep anyways. Plus, even if he did fall, he wouldn¡¯t die, right? The system would probably regenerate crap anyways. Yeah, that was it. Alen reassured himself and fell asleep. Morning came as quickly as he fell asleep, and by the time he woke up, he found that there were three less strings of mana attached to him. Alen frowned and hunkered down the tree, ordering his zombies to line up. When they finished assembling, one vanguard-zombie and two support-zombies were missing. One vanguard zombie was covered in blood, and there were fresh zombie bite marks on its armor. Alen sighed. It was a good idea to put up a perimeter, but these zombies were really useless without being ordered around. He opened up his notepad and put in a new objective. ¡°¡­and find a way to make zombies more useful in combat when not being ordered around. Alright, done,¡± He closed the notepad and had his zombies search for the dead vanguard. He eventually found it, and managed to take out the leather breastplate along with the broken sword. The shield was horribly shredded by what looked like claws though, which caused Alen to frown. He had his zombies bring back the two other swords as well, before having his little group move forward again. He had a portion of his mana on his nose the whole time, numbing his sense of smell so that he could stand the horrible stench of the zombies. He stood with the vanguard this time, so that he could use his Control Undead spell on any zombies he¡¯d come across. None came his way though. He was about to return to the middle of the group when a skeleton stumbled into view. Alen gaped and hurriedly ordered his zombies to not attack. The skeleton saw them and charged, suddenly stopping as a bolt of black-green mana sunk into its skull. It fell to the ground, unmoving before finally standing up after a few minutes of twitching. Its movements were smooth, smoother than the zombies¡¯. Alen grinned. It looked like the lack of rotting muscles and joints didn¡¯t weigh it down. More importantly though¡­ no smell! It didn¡¯t smell! Alen gave it the leather armor and broken sword, assigning it to his vanguard. Before he continued advancing, Alen tested a few things. By ordering the skeleton around, he was able to find out that although it was faster and smoother in its movements compared to his zombies, its strikes weren¡¯t as heavy. It could probably only take a few hits as well, with how it didn¡¯t have flesh to soften the impact of blows. As he examined it further, he found that unlike the zombies, the skeleton¡¯s mental capacity was higher, able to understand more detailed commands and retain them. Instead of flowing throughout its whole body, the skeleton¡¯s functions gathered in its skull, the strands of consciousness wrapping up into a small ball that transmitted his commands to the rest of its body. With this, Alen could confirm that those parts of the mind didn¡¯t have to be spread out over the body, and could instead be condensed into a single spot. He couldn¡¯t do it to the zombies though. Trying to use his mana to move the tiny strands all over the zombies¡¯ bodies was hard, and when he succeeded, the zombie fell limply to the ground, only able to move its head and neck. Satisfied with the results, he put the skeleton at the back of the vanguard beside him and kept moving forward. Eventually, he was able to fill the empty spots in his formation with skeletons. As he encountered a lone skeleton, he used Control Undead on it after moving away from his group of minions. As expected, he still couldn¡¯t go past sixteen undead as one of his support zombies went out of his control, dropping its sword and charging towards him. He almost froze up, but Alen was ready. He expected this to happen. He was prepared. As soon as it charged, the rest of his undead converged on it, pinning it down. Alen wanted to try something with his new minion. First, he had his new skeleton fight the zombie with only a broken sword. As expected, it was completely one-sided. Although Alen gave the skeleton a few commands regarding how to fight a zombie, it still lost horribly and got pinned to the ground. Before the zombie could tear his bone minion apart, Alen had his undead hold it down again.The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. Now, he¡¯d try one of his new spells. He opened the information screen he¡¯d designed and written a few days ago.
Skill Information: Lesser Necrotic Empowerment
Flood an undead minion with necrotic mana, increasing its capabilities for a short amount of time. Effect can be prolonged by sending in a larger amount of mana. Currently uses about 1% of mana per minute of effect duration. Unknown if effect and cost scales as mana thresholds are passed. Skill Trees: Available.
Alen released the zombie, and sent the skeleton in, casting empowerment as they ran at one another. Suddenly, as the orb of black-green mana touched the skeleton, its bones became coated in his mana, giving it a terrifying black color as the mana programmed spell strengthened the mana that enabled it to move, the lights of the consciousness in its skull glowing brighter as the spell came into effect. The skeleton¡¯s speed increased dramatically, moving aside almost leisurely as the zombie charged and slashing out with its sword. The blade was dull, so it failed to sever the zombie¡¯s leg, but the cut was deep and heavy enough to make the zombie fall. It stood up, limping on one leg as it swiped at the skeleton, but it backstepped, before quickly moving in to stab the zombie in the eye, killing it. Alen gaped as the raw, numbing mana flowed into him. When he used the spell on zombies, they got a little faster, but their strength was the main point of amplification. Due to this, they could hold down other zombies and swing their swords harder, but it didn¡¯t really look like much to Alen. But now that he used it on his skeletons¡­ ¡°Holy fuck¡­ that¡¯s OP,¡± Alen muttered, watching as the buff left his skeleton, returning its appearance to normal. He had his first skeleton take off its leather armor, and he had a zombie take it. From now on, he¡¯d put the skeletons in the support roles instead of the vanguard. They could definitely pull that off. If he could teach these skeletons to use slings, maybe a bow and arrow, it would be fantastic. He definitely had to test that out as soon as possible. For now though, priority numero uno was getting the fuck out of this forest. The group of undead and the human leading them advanced forward. Since Alen had his second skeleton scout forward, he could afford to be more lax as it could process commands easier. He also had his minions spread out a bit more. He¡¯d try out flanking tactics on his next encounter. Satisfied, he opened his chat window and updated his friends on his situation. It looked like they were having a relatively good time. Aside from the unintentional mentions of their lives back on Earth that reminded everyone of what they left behind, it was lively. Alen continued forward in this fashion, replacing his support zombies with skeletons and feeling the mana seep into him. Then, he moved on to hunting skeletons. It was fairly easy as long as he used Lesser Undead Empowerment, or Empowerment as he¡¯d grown to call it, on his zombies. He only really realized how much the zombie strength buff mattered when he fought enemies like the skeletons. So far, normal zombies > normal skeletons, while it was the other way around when they were both buffed with Empowerment. He¡¯d tested it to relieve some boredom on his way. The more he walked, the more Alen realized how much this ¡®system¡¯ had affected him. If this was back on Earth, he wouldn¡¯t be able to walk for so long or so far. But here, the occasional pause to recover his stamina was enough. He developed a blister on his foot a few days ago, but it went away overnight, replaced with stronger, more resilient flesh. The living conditions as well. With how he ate and drank, he should¡¯ve been too weak to even walk half a mile by now. In this place though, he was still plenty strong. He¡¯d probably only lost a few kilograms at most, with how gaunt his face had become. Speaking of which, he still didn¡¯t know what he currently looked like. Alen probably looked like shit, with his ripped jacket, shirt, and filthy worn jeans and shoes. Not to mention the fact he hadn¡¯t taken a bath in a week, and he¡¯d had dirt and blood splashed all over him more than once. If he wasn¡¯t surrounded by rotting corpses, he¡¯d probably be numbing his sense of smell to get rid of his own stench. He told James to hook him up with a few explosives when they managed to meet up and moved forward in a leisurely fashion, completely unaware that his scent, or rather, his zombies¡¯ stenches, were being tracked. The plants surrounding him soon turned greener and greener. He could even see the blue sky in the distance. At this rate, leaving the forest would just be a matter of time. Alen¡¯s group of undead killed another skeleton, the mana flowing into him in a refreshing stream. It was no longer as uncomfortable as before, no longer foreign, but fresh like a glass of cold water. Alen smiled as a notification showed up in front of him.
System Message!
Congratulations! You have passed your mana threshold. Your next threshold will require an exponentially higher amount of mana to pass.
It was about time, really. He¡¯d already killed more than twenty zombies, and about a dozen skeletons on his way out of the forest. This really was a fucked leveling system. The requirements for the next threshold probably increased by the fuck-ton again. Alen pursed his lips and opened up his status.
Status:
Name: Alen Race: Human Type: Necrotic
Health: 100% Stamina: 76% Mana: 83%
Strength: 11 Dexterity: 12 Agility: 10
Constitution: 11 Vitality: 12 Resistance: 10
Intelligence: 16 (+) Wisdom: 17 (+++) Control: 19 (++)
Skills: Mana Programming, Control Undead, Lesser Blightbolt, Lesser Undead Empowerment, Numb Senses
Alen gaped at the stat increases. All his attributes had increased by one, while Wisdom had increased by a whole four points. Control and Intelligence increased by three and two respectively as well. The increases were even higher for this threshold. As he stared at the stats, he could feel himself changing. His vision sharpened, and his mind became clearer than ever. It felt like he could control every movement properly, and that he could lift and move more freely than he previously could. He stared at the strings of mana that attached him to his undead. It seemed clearer. More defined. Feeling this way, Alen renewed his motivation to go forward and had his undead speed up the pace. As they moved forward, Alen stopped encountering skeletons. The forest turned silent, which caused him to frown. It was eerie. He knew this feeling. He slowed the pace of his group until they grinded to a halt. Alen swallowed his disgust and had his zombies surround him and his skeletons. Two zombies were missing. As he listened carefully, the forest wasn¡¯t being quiet. There was a sound. A low thumping as something made its way towards them. He tensed up as it walked out from the darkness of the forest as the sun began to set. Then, he remembered. His zombies had died when he fell asleep. One of the shields were shredded. He trembled as he stared at the monster in front of him. In front of him, a massive white form walked out of the trees. It was as large as a four-wheeler, and bone spurs the size of his torso jutted out from its back. It opened its mouth and let out a low growl, its teeth lined with tartar and decay. Its mouth dripped with a sickening mixture of congealed black blood and bubbly saliva. It circled him and his undead, as if to mark an area that he would never pass. The white bear dragged its long claws across the ground and stood up on two legs, three meters tall. Its red eyes looked straight at his group and Alen felt like freezing up again. Finally, with a roar, it charged at him with thundering steps. Alen hurriedly backed up, sending his undead forward in a panic. The bear tore through two of his zombie-vanguard before he was able to cast Empowerment on his undead. The skeletons turned black and intimidating as the spell surged through the strings of mana that kept them connected, and the zombies¡¯ rotting muscles bulged as they charged at the bear. It slapped a skeleton with its paw and completely shattered it with a boom, a zombie had its torso bitten off. Two skeletons jumped on top of the bear, stabbing it wildly with their broken swords, but only irritating it as the swords were too dull to pierce its thick flesh, breaking further as they hit the bone spurs. Alen didn¡¯t even think of fighting it as he ran away. The strings of mana grew more taut. Tighter, tighter, until they snapped. Past thirty meters, Alen couldn¡¯t maintain the connection. He felt his undead slip from his control and stopped in his tracks. From the sounds he heard, his minions didn¡¯t even last ten seconds. The forest once again returned to silence as Alen slowly backed away. Then, an earth-shaking roar reverberated out as trees fell at the bear¡¯s reckless charge. Alen felt his heart tighten, his face paling as he turned around and ran. It caught up to him quicker than he would¡¯ve liked. Its claws raked at a tree, slicing it in half as it fell to the ground with a loud crackle. Alen circled around a tree and the bear jumped, landing beside him with a boom and swiping out with a claw. Alen tossed his body to the side, rolling to his feet with the help of his improved stats as he continued to run. The bear roared behind him in anger as more trees fell. Wooden shrapnel flew and sliced his skin as the monstrosity shredded the trees in its way. Alen hit his shoulder against a tree as he ran, almost falling over as he twisted his body and stumbled forward. His lungs burned. He looked at the darkening sky above. The orange-tinted sky was getting closer. Closer. The air was starting to turn fresh, the temperature changing to a refreshing cool that beat against his tired body. A boom rang out behind him, the claw missing by a fraction as it cracked the ground behind him. Alen fell forward. He scrambled back up, cuts on his skin. He saw something white in the corner of his vision and twisted his body, rolling and standing up again. His shoulder hurt. Badly. He felt moisture on his hand as he clutched it. Alen kept running. It was getting closer. The gray sky was receding from his vision. He was getting closer. He was running. Booms rang out all around him, intermixed with the thundering ringing in his ears and the beating of his heart in his chest, as if it wanted to rip through it and leave his body. His lungs were filled with liquid magma. His legs were lead. He couldn¡¯t feel anything but the pain and fatigue that coursed through his body. Alen controlled his mana, sending Blightbolts out forward in a frenzy, the process of programming the spell omitted by the system. He heard screaming. He was screaming. The Blightbolts rotted away at the wood, causing trees to fall and slow the advance of the bear behind him. He couldn¡¯t breathe. He was forgetting to. Air left his body faster than he could gulp it back in. An entire tree sailed over his head. The bear had probably slapped it towards him. It blocked his way. He jumped over it, one of his shoes catching on a branch and slipping off, throwing him off balance. Alen scrambled forward, using his hands to dig at the ground and move him forward faster as he tilted to the side unsteadily. He burst through the tree line, covered in wounds and gasping for breath. His foot caught air as he tumbled forward and rolled down a hill. He grunted, the blood from his mangled shoulder splattering on the green grass. His world spun and in those moments, he couldn¡¯t differentiate up from down, left from right. Finally, it stopped. He stared at the open sky in front of him. It was full of stars. Two moons stared down at him. It was a sky without the oppressive gray clouds. It was alive. On his back, he felt soft grass and healthy soil. The air was fresh and smelled clean. The stench of rot and decay was now gone. The thundering in his ears slowly died down, replaced with the whispering breeze and harping crickets. Every breath he took was invigorating. A cool breeze swept past him and Alen felt something wet roll down the side of his face as his haggard face grinned madly through the pain in his shoulder. He had gotten out of the forest. He had taken his first step forward. Alen wasn¡¯t afraid anymore. He was free. Book 1, Chapter 5: Santa Book 1, Chapter 5: Santa
[Alen] Darkness shrouded the sky in an obsidian sheet, dotted by sparkling lights and two moons that stared down at the world below. A cold breeze rolled over the carpet of grass on the ground, bringing with it an earthy smell. The sounds of the wind disrupting the surroundings were the only noises that flowed into the ears of anyone that was willing to listen. Two guards stood in one of the watchtowers that lined the perimeter of the Undead Bulwark Draenys, conversing casually as they kept watch. ¡°It¡¯s horrible up here. They don¡¯t even give us chairs to sit in,¡± One of the guards complained lightly. ¡°I want my shift on the city patrols back so I can sneak in a drink at Razan¡¯s bar with the rest of those lazy bastards.¡± ¡°The last attack was a month ago, so the higher ups are bound to tighten the security in the perimeter. I haven¡¯t slept with my wife in a week, so you have nothing to complain about,¡± The other guard said, yawning as he manned the heavy crossbow mounted on the watchtower. ¡°S¡¯why you¡¯ve been assigned to the crossbow Dege. You¡¯re a quick shot. I¡¯m sure your wife¡¯s happy.¡± The guard on the crossbow, Dege, sighed. ¡°When are you getting married anyways?¡± ¡°An old man like me getting married at this age? No chance. All the women my age in the city are either married or single for a reason. Plus, there¡¯re always the barmaids to keep me satisfied!¡± The old man laughed obscenely, leaning back on the tower¡¯s wooden supports. ¡°Looks like the old men are single for a reason too,¡± Dege murmured. ¡°What was that?¡± ¡°Nothing.¡± Dege strained his eyes in the darkness. Torches in the towers were only lit as a signal, and were usually kept dark so that vision in the dark of night wasn¡¯t impaired. His eyesight was better than most, as he¡¯d slowly refined the usage of his mana to augment his eyes. He¡¯d made it a habit to use it every ten minutes when he was in patrol or watch duty. He¡¯d managed to catch his fair share of thieves and stray undead thanks to it. Looks like he had another catch tonight. Something was shambling towards them in the dark, and Conrad aimed his mounted crossbow. ¡°Stray undead sighted. Prepare to light the torches Conrad, there might be more.¡± The old man looked down and augmented his own sight. He wasn¡¯t able to survive this long as a guard of the Bulwark for no reason. He motioned for Dege to stand down. ¡°Why?¡± ¡°That isn¡¯t the way a zombie or skeleton walks. Those don¡¯t clutch at their shoulders like that. Undead ignore injuries and let them hang limply without a care,¡± Conrad said. His experience was abundant, and he¡¯d proven to the higher ups many times that he was a reliable soldier. Dege however, was a new recruit. ¡°And your point is?¡± ¡°My point is that,¡± He pointed at the figure that was slowly limping towards them. ¡°That, is not an enemy. Looks to be a wounded person. I¡¯ll go check it out,¡± Conrad said, hunkering down the ladder. ¡°Don¡¯t get mauled on my watch, Conrad. I want a promotion.¡± ¡°And you¡¯ll get it if you try hard enough. Stand down,¡± The old man shouted back as he reached the ground with a huff. With a light jog, he met the figure, his chain-leather padded coat rustling slightly as he called out to the figure. ¡°Oy! C¡¯mere faster so we can get your injuries treated!¡± The figure looked from the ground to stare at him, his emerald eyes almost glowing in the dark. The mysterious air around the young man lasted for about a second, before it dissipated as angry words leaked from his mouth. ¡°I¡¯m fucking injured, fatigued, malnutritioned, and suffering from a chronic lack of anything to laugh about, so I''d really appreciate it if you walked over here and helped me walk overtherebefore I passthe fuck out.¡± Conrad gaped for a moment, before he laughed loudly. He jogged to the figure and noted his appearance. Clothes he hadn¡¯t seen before were nearly torn to shreds, especially near his shoulder where a deep wound bled profusely, all carried by a young man who looked extremely pale and haggard from blood loss and malnutrition. His eyes were already half-closed and it looked like the words leaving his mouth were coming out in a half-conscious daze. Conrad didn¡¯t dare doubt the young man¡¯s previous talk about nearly passing out. He looked like a walking corpse. Smelled like one too. He studied the young man before speaking slowly as he slung the boy¡¯s arm over his shoulder. ¡°Did you come from the forest?¡± The young man was quiet. Conrad noticed that he¡¯d stopped walking too, and was now just being dragged forward as Conrad walked. Confirming that the young man was just unconscious, he told Dege about the situation and left him at the tower, heading towards the city with the young man¡¯s body slung over his shoulder. This young man would definitely have a story to tell, and it would best be told over a glass of ale. After a shower and a change of clothes, of course. Alen voraciously devoured the meal in front of him. He¡¯d been given bread, soup, and some unknown meat with a soft, chewy texture. Meat. It felt like an eternity since he¡¯d last eaten meat. He savored every bite, taking small sips of the soup. A woman had given him this food when he woke up, and said that she¡¯d be back. Around him were multiple beds, bandaged patients and sick people lined along the wall atop beds. Alen guessed that this was probably some sort of infirmary. He finished the meal quicker than he would like. The serving was relatively small. Alen knew that with his condition he shouldn¡¯t eat too much until he got back into a healthier state, but¡­ He rubbed the small scar on the palm of his left hand, the one he had personally gouged out. It was a new patch of skin, whiter than the rest of his palm, and he figured it would be there for a while. His clothes and things were gone, and were replaced by a clean wool tunic and some linen pants. His shoulder had a dull ache, but the wound was much better than the night before. It was bandaged and no longer bleeding, probably due to some sort of potion or medicine that sped up his recovery. He really did go through a lot this past week. He lost his entire group of undead as well, but it didn¡¯t feel as bad as he thought it would. It felt refreshing to not have zombies and their horrible smell around. He sure missed his skeletons though. They were fucking badass. Alen had to figure out a way to fix his problem with Control Undead. He couldn¡¯t always have a group of corpses following him around, especially with the distance limit that caused his undead to slip from his control if passed. While increasing the max distance of the spell would be good, it¡¯d only do so much. He had a few other ideas on how he could fix the problem, the concepts flooding to his head from the numerous stories he¡¯d read before being transported here. He¡¯d test it out as soon as possible, but for now, he¡¯d stay put as that lady said. While waiting, he brought up the chat rooms and lurked, reading the messages.
Messages
Jessika: I passed my first mana threshold. Thanks to Sam for sharing that technique, I should be able to do more with my magic now. Neil: What kind of spells have you developed, Jess? Jessika: I can whip around water and heal some things like scratches. What about you? Diana: is anyone near a town called dreide? it¡¯s full of dwarves and giants, and i¡¯m dying to see another human being. like, we should probably all gather at some point right? figure out what to together and everything. Neil: I have no talent whatsoever with the method Sam suggested. Not a fan of meditation in the first place. I asked a few people about it, and they just repeated the same thing. Mages walk their own paths apparently. It¡¯s a popular quote among magic users from what I¡¯ve heard. Neil: Sorry Diana. I¡¯m near your area, but I can¡¯t join you right now. I¡¯m helping around in this village. It¡¯s the least I can do with the help I got. James: I asked my teacher and he said others can only be shown the starting line when it comes to magic. You have to walk the rest of the path yourself and all that shit, it¡¯s confusing as fuck. Jessika: You¡¯re damn right it is. We have a mage in this group I¡¯m staying with and he praised me for figuring out how to make spells from schools unassociated with my mana type. I asked him what he meant and he just gave me a book. I¡¯ll tell you guys about it after I finish reading. Diana: take your time neil i also have things to do today. we can start forming a group with the rest as soon as we meet up. you want to join james? James: Nah. I have my own friends to look for.
Alen closed the chat there. He frowned? Schools? Mages walk their own paths? It was extremely confusing, and apparently, no one knowledgeable would share any information regarding the topic. Was it because they were new to this world? Alen had to find a book like the one the girl named Jessika¡¯s mage friend gave her. As for the private chat in their group, it looked like only James and Anne were free right now. They were just talking about random things happening and laughing at old jokes. Alen joined them for a few minutes and said goodbye after the lady came back with the old man that helped him last night, still wearing the same chain-leather coat, and a middle-aged man wearing the same type of coat over some plate armor. There was something like an insignia on his shoulder, one more detailed than the old man¡¯s. Alen guessed he was the one in charge. The middle aged man looked at him. ¡°Can you walk?¡± Alen shrugged and slowly got off the bed, the persistent ache in his shoulder making him take extra care in his movements.Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site. Seeing this, the middle aged man nodded. ¡°Follow me,¡± He said, motioning for Alen to follow. Alen did so, taking a glance at the nurse that was taking care of the patients. Was she the only one tending to this place? Shouldn¡¯t a hospital have a team or something? The old man walked beside him as they followed behind the middle aged man. ¡°Didn¡¯t get to introduce myself last night, with you passin¡¯ out a¡¯soon as you got there. Name¡¯s Conrad, and I offer you one piece of advice. Don¡¯t lie to the captain when he asks you a question. We don¡¯t mean you any harm.¡± Alen scratched the back of his head and nodded lightly. ¡°Alright.¡± Soon, they entered a large building that looked to be a barracks. They passed a few soldiers resting and reading on beds, training in groups, and playing cards on tables. Eventually, they entered a small room with a two chairs and a table, the curtains draped over the windows providing little to no ventilation. Can this interrogation room get any more clich¨¦? At least there isn¡¯t a light bulb hanging from the ceiling, Alen thought. The captain sat down and Alen sat opposite him. They made eye contact for a few very uncomfortable moments for Alen, and just before he was about to say something, the captain spoke. ¡°What¡¯s your name?¡± Alen glanced at Conrad who was leaning on the wall near the doorway and sighed. ¡°My name¡¯s Alen.¡± ¡°I see Conrad gave you some advice,¡± The captain said, motioning for Conrad to leave the room. The old man left with a disgruntled huff, mumbling about drinking with the rest of the boys. The captain let out a smile for a moment before looking back at Alen seriously. ¡°You¡¯re a new arrival, correct?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°How long ago did you come here?¡± ¡°I¡¯ve been here for uh, about a week? In this world¡¯s time, at least.¡± The captain frowned. ¡°Conrad said you walked out from the direction of the forest. Is this true?¡± Alen pursed his lips, considering lying for a moment before he took the thought out of his head. This captain was intimidating enough for him to forget the notion completely. ¡°He¡¯s¡­ correct. I spawned there, and spent seven days trying to get out.¡± ¡°How many thresholds have you passed?¡± The captain slowly asked. ¡°Two.¡± The middle aged man let out an impressed sound. ¡°Hoh. I heard new arrivals were usually talented and adapted to our world quick with their¡­ experiences. That means you¡¯ve killed at least seventy skeletons right? You can pass as a good recruit in any major city.¡± Alen hesitated. Would it be a lie if he didn¡¯t correct him? He decided not to take that chance. ¡°Um, no. I spawned deeper into the woods. I managed to kill about twenty skeletons, and a bit more than twenty zombies.¡± ¡°Then seven days ago, you appeared deeper into the woods, and you¡¯re a new arrival who had yet to assimilate to mana and this world¡¯s system. That means¡­ you, what¡¯s your mana type?¡± ¡°¡­Necrotic.¡± The captain¡¯s eyes sharpened, boring into his. ¡°You controlled the dead to help get you out of the forest?¡± Alen tensed up and unconsciously prepared a Blightbolt in the clenched fist he had under the table. ¡°Yes.¡± The next few seconds were dangerously tense. Alen was prepared to send out his spell and bolt out the door when the captain sighed and relaxed. ¡°Looks like you aren¡¯t lying,¡± He said. The man looked at him and spoke. ¡°It is common sense in this world to help and guide new arrivals like yourself until they are capable of being independent. You, you don¡¯t have a place to stay, right?¡± Alen similarly relaxed and dismissed the spell, the black-green mana seeping back into his body. He wiped the cold sweat on his forehead as he replied. ¡°I don¡¯t, no.¡± ¡°It¡¯s been a week, and the rest of the people from your batch have probably already told you that it is normal to help new arrivals, yes? I¡¯ll cut straight to the point. We¡¯ll cover your housing and pay you an amount of coin that is dependent on your performance if you join us in our expedition into the forest,¡± The captain said, pushing something that looked like a contract towards Alen. ¡°This is?¡± ¡°It¡¯s a registration form to enlist in the expedition. We plan to enter the depths of the forest and find what exactly is corrupting the surrounding area. Blight has been spreading outward for decades at a slow rate, but as you can see, it is already about to take over the whole wood. Another necromancer, one that is willing to help, will be very useful to us.¡± Another? Alen frowned as he read the form. It stated that the expedition could last up to a month, and that it would start in 45 days. It also listed down the names of the monsters they expected to encounter; monsters and undead that Alen had never even heard of. From the looks of it, the bear that nearly killed him would be the least of his worries. It had a few benefits attached though, like a large sum of gold to any participants, and a training course to increase the strength of those who have yet to pass their fifth thresholds. Even with this, Alen immediately ruled out joining. ¡°Jesus Christ¡­ Fuck no,¡± He murmured, setting the paper down with a tired sigh. He just wanted to rest right now, not worry about another chance for him to lose his life. ¡°Pardon?¡± The captain said. ¡°Um, no. I won¡¯t be signing up for this expedition. Are there any other things I could do, uh¡­ captain?¡± Alen said, lightly touching the scar on his palm beneath the table. ¡°My name is Xan,¡± The captain said, noting the look on Alen¡¯s face. ¡°My great, great grandfather was a human from another world as well, and he was one of the first people to help in building this city from the ground up.¡± Seeing Alen nod, he coughed and continued. ¡°Anyways, even though you refused, we cannot just send you on your way. The city has rules against ignoring new arrivals. The barracks will cover your housing and food expenses for a week, but you will have to leave after that. I suggest going to the Commissions House and telling them you¡¯re a new arrival. It¡¯ll get you a free identification card, and a way to take on jobs and earn money.¡± Alen blinked. So¡­ an adventurer¡¯s guild? Fuck yeah. Smiling lightly, he nodded. ¡°Alright. I¡¯d rather go for that. Thanks for all the help.¡± Xan waved his apology away. ¡°It¡¯s nothing. Our city has received help from new arrivals on many occasions as well. The interrogation ends here. Go outside and find Conrad, the old toad¡¯s in charge of telling you about the city and showing you where you¡¯ll be staying. Finally, your possessions are in that box over there,¡± Xan said, pointing the corner of the room. Saying this, the captain stood up and walked outside, leaving him alone. Alen sat alone in the room for a while, staring at the ceiling before closing his eyes and letting out a breath. What now? He slapped his palms against his face and exhaled a second time. Alen let himself feel like this for a few moments, his head full of nothing but stray thoughts and memories. Finally, he shook his head, stood up, and went to the box. He secured his phone, which was now kind of cracked in his pants¡¯ pocket, and wore his watch. Time was weird in this world, but it could still be useful to have around. He put the rest of his things into his pocket and left the room, spotting Conrad drinking a mug of something Alen assumed to be ale with a few other soldiers in casual wear. The old man spotted him and motioned for Alen to sit down beside him. Alen walked over and hesitantly sat down on the table as he noted the slightly drunk faces of the men around him. Conrad slapped him on the shoulder and passed him a mug full of the same drink they were having. Alen had drunk before, but he didn¡¯t want to get intoxicated when he still had a lot to do. He took a sip out of courtesy and the old soldier laughed. ¡°Don¡¯t be so tense, I¡¯ll show you to where you¡¯ll be staying later. For now, why don¡¯t you join me and the rest of the boys for a drink?¡± ¡°Aye, heard you came out of the forest? You aren¡¯t leaving here until we get to hear that story!¡± The soldier in front of him, a man who looked to be in his thirties, took down a large swig from his drink. ¡°Reminds me of my earlier days.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t start speaking like you¡¯re some sort of lieutenant, Doby. The only thing you¡¯re useful for is taking hits,¡± Another man said, grinning as he too, drunk from his mug. ¡°And isn¡¯t that what admirable generals do, Gib? Run into battle with the rest of their men instead of trembling in the back line?¡± Doby scoffed. ¡°Strategist, hah! Don¡¯t think I don¡¯t know that you put me in the advance party for reasons like: ¡®The zombies will take a while to eat his corpse, so that a retreat may be initiated in a dire situation¡¯.¡± Alen watched them bicker and thought: what the fuck was he supposed to be doing here? Conrad nudged him with an elbow. ¡°All of the men in these barracks were sent in small squads into the forest when they were still fresh. Just going into the woods alone is a terrifying concept to each one of them, with the powerful undead that lurk deeper in, and the lack of any food sources. Unless you¡¯re keen on eating maggot-infested flesh, your only choice would be those blue berries that grow everywhere. I wouldn¡¯t recommend them though, the damned things are packed with a vile mana that rot and tear through stomach lining like paper.¡± Alen frowned. ¡°The blue, wrinkly berries?¡± ¡°Aye. Those ones. Nevermind that though, tell me, how¡¯d you do it? Get out of the forest, I mean.¡± Alen hesitated, should he really tell Conrad everything? Though Xan¡¯s reaction to his magic was alright, he very much expected to see a lot of prejudice towards the magic he practiced. After all, when were presumably necrophilic corpse-raisers popular? Alen couldn¡¯t think of any examples. The old man in front of him may have lost something to the undead he commanded, and Alen didn¡¯t want to see the friendly old soldier suddenly turn cold after hearing about his methods. Alen settled on a vague not-lie. ¡°I¡­ holed up inside a crevice I found for a few days after I appeared. I had some food and a water source, but it ended up running out,¡± He pushed his hair up, out of his face as he glanced at the old man¡¯s face. ¡°So, I decided to try leaving, which went well until I got attacked. I got out of the forest pretty fucked up and just¡­ stumbled into your watchtower¡¯s line of sight, I guess.¡± It wasn¡¯t a lie, right? He just neglected to mention his group of undead that helped him leave, his consumption of the blue berries, and his mana type. It would be Conrad¡¯s own fault if he assumed he got out some other way. Right? He glanced at Conrad and grimaced. He was a shit liar, or rather, half-truth-er apparently, as the old man¡¯s face said exactly that. Conrad sighed and stood up after seeing that Alen didn¡¯t even want to drink any more of the alcohol in front of him. ¡°I¡¯m showing Alen here to his room, everyone. Don¡¯t kill each other until I can get back to watch.¡± Alen followed behind him awkwardly, the voices of the laughing and bickering soldiers slowly fading. ¡°Sorry about that,¡± He said. Conrad shook his head. ¡°Naw, it¡¯s probably a story you don¡¯t want to share. I suppose I was being a bit too nosy when I asked you to share an experience like that just a day after you barely got out of it alive, in front of some strangers too, no less. Forgive me, I get a bit too excited about things these days. Must be my age.¡± Alen nodded and kept silent for a while. Lesson learned; lying was probably a shit idea. He wouldn¡¯t rely on it to get out of deep shit. He¡¯d practice on some kids if he ever got the chance though. Telling them about Santa would be the biggest and scummiest lie he could ever tell, but his childhood demanded he spread his disappointment as he remembered his Asian relatives who¡¯d told him about Santa nonchalantly walking into his house in a not-Santa fashion during Christmas Eve. They didn¡¯t even bother dressing up for the five year old who would soon be the victim of having his dreams ruined. This world¡¯s children would pay a terrible price for what happened that night. ¡°Well, here is your room, and here are the keys,¡± The old soldier opened the door and tossed the keys to him. ¡°If you need any help finding anything specific in the city, look for me or else the captain¡¯ll have my hide.¡± ¡°Alright. It looks like I¡¯ll be staying in this city for a while anyways, so I¡¯ll probably end up joining you for a drink at some point,¡± Alen said, bidding farewell to Conrad who grinned. ¡°You better take more than just a little sip of alcohol at that time,¡± The old soldier said, heading back down the hallway. Alen laid down on his bed and sighed, listening as Conrad¡¯s footsteps disappeared down the hall. After all that happened, even talking properly felt hard to do, his body and mind both weighed down by the figurative shackles of what the corporate slaves and students in his world called mental fatigue. Alen just wanted some rest. Looking at the sun that was still high up in the sky, he laid down on his bed and closed his eyes, his old habit kicking in as a slight smile made its way into his face. He¡¯d find some poor kids and ruin their childhoods tomorrow. Book 1, Chapter 6: Skill Development Book 1, Chapter 6: Skill Development ¡°And so, he climbs down your chimney and leaves his presents under the Christmas tree. Remember, the tree is essential. If you don¡¯t grow a tree inside your house, Santa won¡¯t come,¡± Alen spoke, pushing his hair back with a kind smile as he looked at the two children that stared at him with widened eyes. ¡°He¡¯ll really come?¡± The little girl in front of him spoke, her twintails bobbing in the sunlight as she gave him a hopeful look. Alen nodded seriously. ¡°Yes, but you have to remember to be a good child. Don¡¯t eat anything sweet that would make you happy like candy for a year.¡± A boy who looked to be seven, wearing a clean brown tunic nodded vigorously beside the girl. ¡°Yes! If I do this, I¡¯ll be friends with Freide, right?¡± The boy blushed, and Alen presumed the girl was someone that caught his interest. ¡°Yes. Santa will put her in a box, and when you wake up in the morning and open it, she¡¯ll be there, and she¡¯ll be your friend.¡± Chatting for a bit more and saying goodbye to the two children, Alen went on his way and continued towards the Commissions House. He still didn¡¯t know how they operated, but he¡¯d handle stressing over that later. For now, he¡¯d glow in a mix of guilt and laughter as he remembered the hopeful looks on the children¡¯s¡¯ faces. Parents were weak to tantrums. They¡¯d probably get some sort of small tree or shrub and put it inside the house, and then, when the snow starts to fall¡­ Alen laughed to himself and opened the chat window.
Egg Chat Room
Anne: So I managed to meet up with Bernard. Bernard: she¡¯s freeloading off my work. Anne: Shhhh. Shut the fuck up. I¡¯m going to be making use of my savings soon, so I¡¯ll buy you some food when I can actually earn money. Bernard: buy me materials to make new crap and I¡¯ll call it even. Adam: can someone get me out of here? i asked the elves if they could teach me their shitty combat style and they¡¯re teaching me dancing. help. Sam: Mages. Walk. Their own paths. Anne: Hoy fuck Sam shut the hell up. Adam: he¡¯s been repeating the phrase for days now. come on dude, we¡¯re both on the southern side of the continent right? can we like meet up and fuck off to where the rest are already?
Alen closed it. If he started talking to them now, it could drag on for hours. Right now, his priority would be finding a way to earn some money and keep himself fed after Xan kicked him out of the barracks. He suspected finding a job would be easy enough, due to the nature of the commissions house. Unless they had some sort of qualification or ranking system, he would probably find some kind of work that¡¯d give him a good amount of coin. Really, he just wanted some spare change. His clothes were as bare as they could get, and with the weather getting progressively colder, he needed some thicker clothing on him. He didn¡¯t want to achieve blue balls, and not the kind Sam was into. Hypothermia didn¡¯t sound anywhere near as good as a warm bed and something that wasn¡¯t bread and soup for once. In the distance, the Commissions House came into view. It was as expected, a medieval looking building, but something that looked surprisingly refined. Clean stone steps led up to a beautifully engraved door. A copper plate hung under some chains above the door, clear words carved into the metal. Commissions House, it said. There were even some laurel-looking plants hanging from the second floor balcony. Alen was impressed. The whole thing really gave off that, ¡®make sure to destroy this place first when attacked¡¯ kind of vibe. Maybe the bakery he saw nearby would even be ignored completely in the event of some undead invasion. He slowly walked into the building, opening the door lightly as he slipped in. Inside, there were a few tables and benches, along with two sets of stairs that led up both left and right of the ground floor¡¯s lobby. In the center of the two stairwells stood a counter separated from the outside with panes of glass. People, both ordinary and equipped in dangerous looking equipment, lined up and talked to the employees behind the counter. Alen glanced at the second floor and found that it was transformed into some sort of bar. He saw the backs of numerous people lining the railing as they sat against chairs, and multiple waitresses walked around serving food and drink. Seeing the place, he was somewhat surprised at how orderly it was. He was expecting a rustic looking place and expected a few brawls among some of the people inside as soon as he entered, but it seemed this place was kept in order, as evident by the intimidating guards on post near the counter and entrance. Alen continued to glance around as he fell in line. A few stray thoughts wandered their way into his head. Did this place have those unwritten rules sort of thing? Like, don¡¯t stare for too long but don¡¯t drop your gaze to the ground to show weakness or something? He shrugged internally. He¡¯d get to it when he did. What he wanted right now was information regarding where he was, what this place was called, and a way to keep himself afloat financially while he sorted things out. Eventually, he reached the counter. A surprisingly fit man greeted him, his gray hair slicked back with some sort of gel. Alen supposed even office people from another world had to use gel. It was a universal rule at this point. ¡°How may I help you?¡± Alen almost grinned at how generic the greeting was. But then again, what else would they say? ¡®Sup cunt, you want some money? Look nowhere else but here.¡¯? Yeah. Probably not. He scratched the back of his head and told the man what Xan had told him to say. ¡°Uh, I¡¯m a new arrival. Xan, er, the captain of the guard told me I should come here for an identification card and some work?¡± The man at the counter nodded knowingly. ¡°Ah, yes. He sent word about you visiting us yesterday afternoon. Your card¡¯s already been prepared. I assume you¡¯re here to find work outside the city?¡± Alen nodded, and the man gave him a stack of papers. ¡°These are some of the jobs the house assessed you were capable of doing. You can check them while I fetch your key. If you feel like you can handle harder work, then you can ask me to fetch more when I get back.¡± The man left, and Alen read what was written down. Blacksmith¡¯s assistant, lost pet requests, and general things. The pay listed down was in coppers, and a silver at most, which Alen assumed wasn¡¯t much. He looked further, and eventually found what he was looking for; subjugation requests. Essentially, it was exactly how it sounded. Apparently, the identification card provided by the Com-House would have a section in it that recorded what kind of monster the user killed. Looks like the guy in the counter was considerate enough to put in an information manual as well. The card he was about to get had to be branded by his mana before he could use it. It displayed just his name, race, mana type, and a unique number the house assigned to him. Apparently, after branding, it would claim a small percentage of the mana he absorbed after killing something, and it would show up on the metal card like it was engraved there. Alen was worried about it slowing his level ups down, but it seemed like you could retrieve the mana from the card at the cost of wiping your list of killed monsters. With this, Alen guessed the process was: go to guild, get a job, get proof that you finished it, and if the card has mana, claim it after showing proof and finishing the request. As the man came back, he handed Alen a thin, metal card. ¡°Just hold it in your hand and put your mana inside. As for the number, make sure you don¡¯t tell anyone you don¡¯t trust about it. The number can be used to retrieve your assets from the guild, which you can deposit and withdraw in any of our branches via a teleportation array,¡± The man saw the worried look in his eyes and continued. ¡°It¡¯ll be invisible to the eyes of others due to a strong illusion spell, so it¡¯s safe against most people. However, you may choose to pay a sum and increase the strength of the spell. At that point, the guild¡¯s information network is good enough to determine who exactly stole your number, so we can take action. Our company does not take kindly to those that trespass on the security of our patrons. Remember this.¡± Alen took a moment for the information to sink in before asking the man again. ¡°How much is the fee to increase the strength of the illusion?¡± ¡°A hundred gold.¡±This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings. His shoulders sagged. ¡°Well, shit.¡± He probably wouldn¡¯t be getting that upgrade any time soon. Shaking his head, Alen showed the man the request he intended to take. It was a simple subjugation request that was handed out by the city management and military regularly. It could be taken again upon completion, and had a good reward at ten silver upon completion. The requirements weren¡¯t too bad either. It was to take out either sixteen skeletons, eight zombies, or a single ghoulbear. It didn¡¯t have a deadline, and it could be taken three times to come out as forty-eight skeletons, or twenty-four zombies, or three ghoulbears. Alen found out that there was a request limit though, which only let the patron take a maximum of five requests at a time to prevent request hoarding. Seeing this, he took the undead subjugation request three times, taking three out of his five slots. He glanced at the man who was stamping the requests on his card before looking back at the paper. ¡°¡­Are there undead stronger than the ghoulbear inside the forest?¡± The man handed it back to him. ¡°Yes. A scary amount. The requests involving those are available. You want me to get them?¡± ¡°Absolutely not.¡± The gray haired man shrugged and motioned him away, allowing the next person in line to take his place. Alen walked out of the Commissions House and looked at his card before putting it in his pocket. He visited the barracks, leaving his phone and watch, before heading outside with only his clothes and ID card with him. He left the gates with little trouble and entered the forest. After half an hour of walking, he reached the boundary. In front of him, grass stopped growing, replaced by dry, dead soil. The trees were black and shriveled, and the sky above was already half-gray. Alen felt the same edgy sensation of perpetual dread from this place, a sensation that hadn¡¯t changed since he got here. Alen stood for a moment and sighed, taking a step into the forest calmly. This wasn¡¯t going to be like that time in the cave. Alen was stronger now, in more ways than just his magic. He touched the scar on his palm. He didn¡¯t want another one of these, either. He proceeded forward at a steady pace, his grown agility making speed walking feel like he was moving at the speed of an intense jogger. Not much, but faster than before, at least. Eventually, he started to slow down, creeping forward as he looked for any undead. His main goal here wasn¡¯t completing the request. He had another six days to finish the job before he got evicted from the barracks. For now, he needed to focus on improving his magic. The skill trees still hadn¡¯t shown up, and Alen wanted to see how far they would change his spell after he improved the programs enough. Sometime later, Alen found his first target. A group of skeletons. There were five of them, a common number as skeletons tended to group up. They were weak by themselves, but the way they packed together made them a problem to people who were inexperienced in hunting inside the dead woods. Alen examined the skeletons from afar, only now realizing how different the bone structure had become. First, their bones were grown more than normal. Thick, almost plate-like ribcages that were haphazardly merged together in different places, and a spinal column lined with sharp barbs of bone-matter. Their fingers and toes were longer too, the tips sharpened to a point so they could tear at their prey. Alen gulped and pointed at them from a behind a tree, a stream of his black mana shooting out repeatedly as it sunk into all of them. The skeletons all fell to the ground, before Alen felt the link of mana that attached them to him form. He ordered them to stand up and opened his status to glance at his mana. It was heavily depleted. He had enough room for one Blightbolt at most. Probably not the wisest way he could¡¯ve spent his mana, considering how he needed it to experiment in the first place. Alen face-palmed and sat down. He waited until he could cast Empowerment on a skeleton for fifteen minutes and stood up. With this, he could apply the spell to all his skeletons for three minutes each, but he wasn¡¯t looking to fight anything. He did this for another purpose. He had a skeleton come over and looked at its intimidating features. This thing was going to be badass with Empowerment on. That would come in a bit though, he had something else to examine. He programmed a short strand of mana and had it flow into the skeleton. It would perform a tracing action. Essentially, it would flow along the mana that kept the skeleton together, allowing him to inspect how it worked. He couldn¡¯t use crap like mana-vision. Having his magic flow into his eyes just blurred his vision to shit, so he used strands of mana to relay information to him instead. Alen didn¡¯t have the time to examine them fully when he was in the forest, but he had it now. He saw the magic pulse along the skeleton¡¯s bones, but he noticed it also stuck off and traced something in the air around the bones. He frowned and waited until the strand flowed back into him. Then finally, it hit him. Those things his mana was tracing in the air? It was essentially his mana, but invisible to even him under normal circumstances. They acted like muscles and cartilage, keeping the skeleton together and making it move at the price of sacrificing the power of a flesh and blood body. When he used Control Undead on the skeletons, his mana took over those pseudo-muscles, allowing him to control the skeleton as he wished, but at the price of knowing how it worked. Alen had to give props to the first necromancer to figure this shit out. It was awesome knowing about it. And this wasn¡¯t even the end of it. Alen casted his buff and found out that it looked like the reason why the skeleton turned black during Empowerment wasn¡¯t because of his mana covering the bones, but flooding into the previously invisible muscles of mana, giving the skeleton a black hue as the mana reinforced the strings of magic that acted as muscle tissue. He stepped back, watching as the Empowerment he casted faded after a minute. Now, it was cool to have this knowledge, but how could he use this to improve his Control Undead spell? He sat down and pondered before arriving at a theory. What if compressing the lines of mana-code into a smaller program wasn¡¯t the only thing that increased the quality of a spell? What if he changed parts of the spell entirely according to his understanding, and modified it to have a stronger output? Say for example, passively strengthening the lines of mana that acted as muscles when he took over an undead? Now that he had knowledge on how the skeletons worked, he could improve his spell accordingly. An end product was already visible in his mind. Upon takeover, instead of only driving the mana inside the body away and replacing it with his own, he would also reinforce the smaller details like the muscles and ligaments of mana. That would make his spell stronger; make it of a higher quality. Alen got to work, spending hours changing and testing the spell by cutting the string of mana that connected him to a skeleton before casting his new prototype of the spell on the skeleton held down by the rest of his undead. Sometimes, it had the weird effects like making the skeleton an invalid, and making the bones thicker, the latter of which Alen decided to keep in his program. Better to have skeletons that could take more hits. Sometimes, the prototype spell would even do absolutely nothing, forcing Alen to wait for the chunk of mana he had lost. After a while, he managed to succeed, watching as the skeleton became stronger and faster. He continued, refining the contents of the spell and making his undead more potent at the price of increasing the mana cost due to the lengthy mana program he used to achieve the effects. Alen wasn¡¯t satisfied with only being able to cast it twice before running out of mana, so he proceeded to the next phase and began to compress his program. When he reached a point where he felt like he couldn¡¯t compress it anymore due to his current understanding of the spell¡¯s intricacies, he stopped. Not even a moment later, a screen materialized in front of him.
System Message!
Congratulations! You have taken a step forward on your path as a scholar of magic by gaining the qualifications to upgrade a skill. To choose one of the many branching paths of your spell¡¯s skill tree, find your own interpretation of this spell¡¯s ideal form. When a powerful image of this skill¡¯s path forward forms inside of your mind, your understanding of the spell and vision of the path forward will allow it to improve. Walk a path that is your own, mage. Good luck.
Alen looked at the darkening sky above. He was hungry, too. Alen couldn¡¯t just leave the skeletons here though. They were stronger than before, and if he let them loose, it would haunt him forever if they managed to kill a person that was expecting an easy fight against normal undead. With this, Alen found a good, hidden spot inside the woods and had his skeletons bury each other, one at a time until only their skulls poked out from the dirt. As for the last skeleton, Alen just ordered in to bang its head against a rock until its skull shattered. It took a while, but Alen had managed to tick off one skeleton kill from his commission, and managed to secure four risk-free minions when he came back tomorrow. Even with their enhanced strength, Alen doubted they would be able to dig themselves out of the dirt after they slipped from his control. With this, he left the forest and headed back into the city. He had his dinner, and talked with Conrad and the rest of the soldiers for a bit before finally retiring to his room. He opened up the chat window and chatted with his friends, looking at the public message screen and noting that nothing much had changed, besides the fact that new names had appeared. From the context of what they were saying, they were in dangerous places as well, and Alen wasn¡¯t around when they sent their few short messages during the first week. It looked like at least thirty people were sent here, not counting the ones that still hadn¡¯t said a thing, and the ones that were¡­ Alen closed his eyes and lapsed into silence, dead. He had to be more careful with how he handled things. Just that decision alone in the forest of using almost all of his mana to take over five skeletons could have gotten him killed if he was unlucky enough to encounter more skeletons in the vicinity. Alen glanced at the phone set down on the table near his bed, resisting the urge to turn it on and listen to his music. It would only last him for so long. He had to be stingy with its use. With a sigh, he closed his eyes and went to sleep. Tomorrow, he¡¯d keep doing what he¡¯d been doing since he got here. Experiment¡­ and improve. Improve until he didn¡¯t have to worry about things like his life, housing, and food supply all the time. And maybe tell a few more kids about Santa. Yeah. He¡¯d do that. Book 1, Chapter 7: A Second Encounter Book 1, Chapter 7: A Second Encounter
Alen¡¯s mana slowly reached into the corpse of the freshly slaughtered chicken. It was no ordinary chicken, as the animals on this world had a talent for being born in all kinds of fucked shapes and sizes. This chicken alone was nearly three feet tall, with feathers the color of the sky during a setting sun. It had four legs, and the most peculiar of its features were the teeth that lined its beak. Alen honestly didn¡¯t know why it had teeth. Kind of defeated the purpose of having a beak in the first place. It didn¡¯t matter to him though. What mattered was that the creature had teeth. A week had passed since Alen started hunting in the forest. He left the barracks just the day before, and was now staying in a cheap-looking inn. He could afford to spend more, but his earnings from commissions have mostly been used for¡­ He glanced at the small pile of four-legged chicken corpses slumped together over a cloth near his bedside. He¡¯d have the nearby butcher slaughter them and drain the blood before running back to his room with a dead chicken. He¡¯d received some weird looks from the other patrons, but he decided to preserve his little smidgen of self-image remaining by ignoring the glances thrown his way. Alen shook his head and looked back at the corpse. He was adjusting his mana program little by little as it operated inside the chicken¡¯s corpse, something he¡¯d learned to do a few days ago in order to increase his efficiency when it came to experimenting. Inside the chicken, his mana tugged and enveloped little strings of multicolored light invisible to the naked eye. The lights were slowly dragged into a tooth, the dominant colors being orange, blue, and a bit of purple. The rest of the light that he refused to touch flowed out of the chicken, surrounding a small white orb as it left the corpse and disappeared into the air. After making sure the lights were gathered inside the one of the chicken¡¯s teeth, Alen exhaled a breath and relaxed his shoulders. Slowly, he picked up a wrench beside him and yanked out the tooth from the chicken¡¯s beak. Then, with a finger, he injected the prototype mana program he¡¯d been refining over the last few days into the tooth. His mana surged into the purple lights inside the tooth, and forced it to spread outwards at a rapid rate. Suddenly, the tooth¡¯s surface began to bubble as if it was boiling water in a cauldron. Not even a moment later, large segments of the same material that made up teeth began to jut out in all directions, making the tooth unrecognizable from before. Alen dropped the mass of tooth-matter on the ground and stared at it intently, glancing nervously at the other pile of deformed chicken teeth in his room. The mass of white grew explosively, disgusting shlicks and clacks reverberating throughout the small room as in front of him, a bone chicken slowly formed. It laid still on the ground, and Alen was about to start screaming about another failure when a thread of black-green mana formed between him and the skeletal chicken. He let out an actual gasp and formed a simple command, transmitting it through the thread of mana with care. When it reached his new minion, it seeped into the amalgamation of multicolored lights in the chicken¡¯s skull. Then, the skeletal chicken stood up on four legs. ¡°Yes! Fuck yes!¡± Alen cheered, kicking the pile of deformed teeth nearby and scattering it all over the floor with a massive grin on his face. His spell worked! He grinned widely as a blue screen formed in front of him.
System Message!
Congratulations! You have created the spell Summon Skeletal Minion! Due to the unique nature of the skill, it is considered a grade above ¡®Lesser¡¯. Skill Trees are available for this spell. Improve this spell further to unlock them.
With a satisfied sigh, Alen laid down on his bed grinning all the way. He¡¯d been trying to get this spell to work for days now. First, he tried moving the pieces of consciousness to one of his raised skeleton¡¯s teeth, to see if he could turn it back into a skeleton again, but he realized he couldn¡¯t exactly do that as he had no idea how skeletal anatomy worked. He was stuck in that slump for two days, and just spent that time learning how to have his mana manipulate those strands of consciousness inside his undead with more efficiency. Then, a few days ago, he found a freshly deceased bird near the boundary of the dead forest, and decided to examine it with his mana on a whim. He could still remember his surprise when instead of just two differently colored strands of light like the ones inside his undead, he found a whole spectrum instead. He spent the whole day keeping those strands inside the bird with his mana, examining them one by one. Some made him feel the sensation of flying, some made his taste buds remember the taste of numerous insects, and one even made him feel like seducing a female bird for a short few moments. Finally, he found a strand related to the unconscious part of the body that dictated how bones were repaired and reconstructed, and with it, the correct skeletal anatomy of the creature he was trying to raise. To him, it was a fun and equally terrifying experience. Eventually, he found the white ball of light inside the small bird¡¯s corpse. When his mana touched it, he felt¡­ something. He heard chirping in his ears. He felt, saw, tasted, and experienced everything he¡¯d examined before all at once. Only after the experience ended did Alen realize that the small white ball was something like the bird¡¯s life; the bird¡¯s soul. Or at least the manifestation of it. Seeing that his skeletons didn¡¯t even need it, he left it alone. Even this little bird deserved to pass on, however the hell that worked in this fucked up place. Reveling in his newfound discovery, he watched, or rather, felt with his mana as the colors faded into the air, the faint sound of chirping still present in his ears. With this knowledge, he met the local butcher and had him kill a chicken for him. After the blood was drained, Alen would rush to his room to experiment with the spell. That, along with the commissions he completed over the week, resulted in a stockpile of chicken corpses in his room. Alen had found a way to fix that problem though. He left the inn after stuffing the corpses in a sack he¡¯d prepared beforehand and headed to the center of the city. Then, he paused, paling. He¡¯d forgotten about the skeleton chicken in the inn. He checked the mana string and found that it wasn¡¯t present. In a panic, he ran back to the inn, only to find his chicken standing still, staring at him. Alen frowned and checked the string. It was back. ¡°No fucking way,¡± He said, slowly walking out of the inn. When he passed thirty meters, his Control Undead¡¯s distance limit, he checked, and sure enough, the string was present. He walked farther, and only after passing a little bit over a hundred meters did the string disappear. When he walked back into that range, it would come back, allowing him to send orders over to his undead in the inn. Alen sat beside a fountain in the center of the city, a sack full of large dead four-legged chickens beside him. He was somewhat stunned at the spell he¡¯d created. He didn¡¯t have a distance limit for skeleton minions he created. He looked back at the direction of the inn. ¡°Holy fuck,¡± He said, laughter in his voice. After bathing in the glow of his new spell for a while, Alen stood up, carrying the sack with him to a small store. There, he spotted a man in his fifties. He greeted him. ¡°Hey Gren.¡± The man nodded and smiled lightly, taking the sack from him. ¡°Good morning. As always?¡± ¡°Spicy, as always,¡± Alen said, remembering the amazing meat this man could make. He¡¯d preserve the chicken meat, put on some spices, and not only was Alen able to cover his food supply, he also didn¡¯t have to worry about it going bad. He¡¯d only been eating chicken jerky for the last few days, as the chickens took up most of his expenses, but he didn¡¯t regret it. This man¡¯s meat was legendary. With a gesture, Alen said goodbye after paying. Gren usually took a few days to process a whole sack, and Alen had enough containers full of the jerky in his bag. He didn¡¯t bother to return to the inn. His chicken wouldn¡¯t cause any trouble, and he still had to finish a commission he picked up, a different brand of the usual subjugation ones. This one demanded he clear a section of the forest of undead so that workers could come in and harvest lumber from the trees with commissioner escorts. So far, he¡¯d killed a good amount of skeletons, enough that he barely saw any in that part of the woods, and set up (buried) his minions in various parts of the forest so he could go on a patrol and cast Control Undead on them one by one without worrying about mana expenditures. Thanks to his heightened control stat, he was able to take charge of up to nineteen skeletons at a time, which greatly sped up his hunting. From what he felt, he wasn¡¯t too far from the next mana threshold, which was understandable considering he¡¯d killed way over a hundred skeletons over the past week. It seemed that the more he absorbed mana from the skeletons, the less it gave, but for now, he wouldn¡¯t have to worry. He was planning on leaving this city as soon as he had the means and finances to travel to the nearest town anyways. The Com-House sold information as well, and with a few coppers, he was able to get a map of the area. The closest city was about a hundred-forty kilometers to the west, with a few stops and villages along the way. It was a bit of an intimidating journey, but he¡¯d make sure he was prepared before he left the city. The sooner he could meet up with his friends, the sooner he could find the feeling of stability he¡¯d lacked in his time here. Alen entered the forest, the feeling of dread he¡¯d associated with the place slowly fading as he got the hang of hunting undead. Well, just skeletons and zombies, as he tried his best to avoid the areas where ghoulbears and apparently stronger undead were located, but he was comfortable where he was at regardless of that. He didn¡¯t see a need to force himself to fight that bear again, at least not in his current state. Just remembering the way one of those bears destroyed his undead last time made him shudder. He¡¯d undoubtedly do better in the future though, as with his new spell, his skeletons would be made of dentin and enamel, with the parts of the bones previously occupied by marrow and empty spaces would be filled in by the same material that made up teeth¡ªmaterial much more resilient than normal bone. Alen wouldn¡¯t be surprised if a skeleton made from his new spell could take on two zombies at once without any difficulty, with how tough it would become. How would he be able to make a skeleton with this spell though? He still needed the purple strands of light that contained information regarding the creature¡¯s anatomy, which was vital to his spell. Alen frowned as he spotted three of his buried skeletons and casted Control Undead on them, getting them out of the ground with a bit of digging. There was no way he¡¯d murder someone just to make one of these skeletons. It would be better to stick with animals. There were a lot of powerful creatures in this world anyways. To him, murder wasn¡¯t something he wanted to do, nor take lightly. His undead moved forward, towards the next group of buried skeletons in the distance. Eventually, he managed to gather ten of his skeletons after an hour of patrolling around the forest. In that time, he managed to kill three skeletons, all of which were stragglers left over from the groups he¡¯d exterminated over the last few days. He went deeper into the forest, where zombies usually started to show up. Alen didn¡¯t find any though. He exterminated them first and made sure to vent his anger towards the rotting sacks of shit as much as he could a few days ago. If he hadn¡¯t gotten over that first battle he had, he¡¯d be a sack of shit dead in that little crevice right now. Alen gritted his teeth and moved forward. He refused to let himself pussy out like that again. Eilynn stalked through the woods, trailing behind her party as she leaped from one tree¡¯s branches to another. Below her, walking tensely through the forest, was a young man in a magician¡¯s robe¡ªSen, their fire mage and most reliable source of damage against undead. In front of him stood Roland, an orange-haired human warrior covered in a mixture of leather and iron plate armor. She¡¯d met the two after they¡¯d assembled for the first training program a few days ago. Most of the recruits were human as expected, as this part of the continent was their territory. A snow elf like her was a rarity around these parts, but it was a pleasant surprise to see that no one was too surprised by her uncommon snow-white hair. It truly was different in large cities like the Undead Bulwark. These two were put together in a group with her, and they¡¯d been doing the same thing for two days now; splitting up from the rest in three-man groups, and eliminating as many undead as possible. It was a tedious task, but the results did not lie. She¡¯d passed her third mana threshold just a day ago, and she wouldn¡¯t be surprised if she passed her fifth¡ªmaybe even her sixth, by the time the training regime was over. She jumped once again, pausing at a branch and staring ahead in confusion. Just a few meters away, the heads of two skeletons poked out from the ground.This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings. They were fairly deep into the forest, a place where skeletons would usually stop appearing. This territory usually housed zombies, which were their targets for today. She knocked an arrow as Roland approached the skeletons, but relaxed as he crushed its skull without experiencing any kind of resistance. She sighed as the disgusting, numbing feeling of necrotic mana flowed into her, her two party mates sharing the same reaction as the system functions distributed the mana equally among them. The three of them proceeded forward in the same fashion, but Eilynn worried that they were wandering too deep into the forest. Stronger variations of zombies were already starting to show up, which caused her to take extra caution in placing her shots, as arrows were precious in the forest. She whistled and her two party members paused to turn back towards her. ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡± Roland said, his hand always ready at his sword¡¯s hilt. ¡°Don¡¯t you two think we should go back?¡± She said, motioning at the sky. ¡°It¡¯s getting late, and we don¡¯t want to stay near ghoulbear territory when the sun sets.¡± Roland shook his head. ¡°I¡¯d rather try for more mana. The sooner we reach the fifth threshold, the sooner we can start preparing for the expedition. I heard the volunteers that¡¯ve passed their thresholds are being tutored by Sedan, and I don¡¯t want to miss out.¡± The mage, Sen, nodded. ¡°Sedan¡¯s from the south like me, and I can assure you his reputation¡¯s even better where I live. If we can manage to learn a thing or two from him, even ghoulbears won¡¯t be too much of a problem to face.¡± Eilynn shrugged. ¡°Don¡¯t know much about him, but if he¡¯s as good as you say he is, sure. Just know that if we encounter a ghoulbear, I¡¯m not going down from these trees to save your asses.¡± ¡°Hah! You say that Lynn, but we all know Sen runs the fastest out of us three,¡± Roland laughed and began to move forward again. The fire mage trailed behind him and complained. ¡°It¡¯s not my fault our front-line has the movement capabilities of an especially crippled statue,¡± He gestured to Eilynn behind him as he walked. ¡°And don¡¯t think you¡¯re safe up there either, Lynn. Ghoulbears can tear apart these shriveled old trees like paper. Nothing like the forests from where you¡¯re from.¡± Eilynn laughed. ¡°If these trees were anything like the ones back home, all elves regardless of ancestry would kill themselves on the spot from shame alone. Plus, all we need to do in that situation is outrun Roland over there anyways.¡± The warrior in front of them readied his shield and drew his sword. ¡°You guys should really quiet down. Three zombies up front, but there looks to be two more nearby. Should we take them?¡±¡± In response to his question, a ball of fire sailed over his head and slammed into one of the zombies, knocking it to the ground, and spreading the blooming flames onto the zombie beside it. The one on the ground scrambled up with horrifying screeches that alerted the two zombies in the distance further. Roland sighed and channeled the mana to his feet as the sight of a burning zombie and its three friends charging towards him greeted his vision. He dashed, and with a bash of his shield, he stepped to the side as he maneuvered around the zombie he¡¯d knocked to the side with his shield. His body spun and his blade bit into the next zombie¡¯s stomach, blood spurting out with a wet squelch. A zombie to his left reached for him with its claws, but an arrow pierced the side of its neck and froze the surrounding area, throwing it off balance from the surprising amount of force within the arrow. Roland took this chance to step back with another swing, slicing open the chest of the zombie who¡¯s stomach he¡¯d just cut. A flaming zombie rammed against his shield from the right, the flames on its body causing him to squint his eyes and the force making his knees buckle slightly. He pushed it back with his shield and retreated further. ¡°Roland, step back!¡± He heard Sen¡¯s voice from behind him, but took a bit too long to react, causing the mage¡¯s timing to falter. When he finally made space, the fireball was already late, slamming into a zombie at the back while one charged towards the fire mage. Before it could reach him however, an arrow shot through its leg and pinned its foot to the ground. The zombie lost its balance and fell, Roland¡¯s sword stabbing into its head a moment later. The warrior looked up at the snow elf jumping from tree to tree, constantly positioning herself to give them support, and gave her a thumbs up. She grinned back and nocked an arrow, the sharp point leaving her bow with a whoosh and killing a zombie with a shot to the head. Roland saw this and angled himself near the falling zombie, kicking it forward into the path of the two undead running towards him. He heard a triumphant cry from behind him and watched as a cone of flame bloomed from beside him, lighting the two zombies on fire. From there, it only took them another minute to mop up the rest. Roland looked at Sen with a slight frown. ¡°You really need to wait before you toss a fireball at one of those zombies.¡± The mage smiled sheepishly and wiped the sweat on his forehead. ¡°Sorry. I get excited when it comes to things like this. Never mind that though,¡± He gestured to Eilynn. ¡°Good job a while ago. Your timing with those arrows is top notch, no complaints here.¡± She retrieved her arrows from the zombies¡¯ corpses and shrugged. ¡°A lot easier to do when your enemies aren¡¯t very smart and have the combat skills of a five year old without legs.¡± Roland laughed. ¡°The only thing they got going for them is their strength and numbers. I heard this was just the easy part though. From what I¡¯ve heard in my time in the city, there are ghouls and undead with the skills of veterans deeper into the forest. Without even considering the other monstrosities hiding inside, what we¡¯re doing is easy compared to what we¡¯ll face in the expedition.¡± ¡°Well, it¡¯s why they¡¯re guiding us with this training right?¡± Sen said, sitting down near a tree with a sigh. ¡°I really want to increase my constitution so I don¡¯t get as tired, but my mana reserves and spells aren¡¯t good enough for someone who¡¯ll be passing their fourth threshold soon.¡± ¡°Spend some time creating stronger spells then. Increasing just raw power isn¡¯t enough,¡± Eilynn said, yanking out an arrow and brushing the dust of and blood off her bits of leather armor. The mage sighed. ¡°You and Roland take using magic too lightly. Though I have zero talent in the Enchanting and Augmenting schools, I heard they were hard to get the hang of. You two are gifted, so leave me to struggle with my Evocation magic in peace.¡± Roland leaned on the tree beside him. ¡°Ever considered trying out Conjuration?¡± Sen shook his head. ¡°I haven¡¯t, and I don¡¯t have the slightest clue on where to start learning it. Books in the city are expensive, you know. Until I get my hands on a Conjuration manual, my dreams of leading an army of elementals are close to fantasy.¡± Eilynn fixed her white hair into a ponytail and started climbing a tree. ¡°Well, the sooner we finish this thing, the sooner you get your manual. Let¡¯s get going slowpokes¡ª¡± She stopped as she reached the top of the shriveled old tree. The elf looked at the sky and froze. Due to the lack of sunlight and perpetual shade of grey covering the surroundings, it was hard to determine the time of day. However, now that she stared at the dark sky and the looming shadows around them, she was able to realize one thing as low roars began to ring out from directions all around them. They were incredibly fucked. Alen walked through the forest frowning. Two batches of his skeleton minions were killed. It wasn¡¯t a rare occurrence, as people often took advantage of their positions while idle, but it was annoying nonetheless. His surroundings were dark, but Alen recognized the area. Some trees were torn to shreds, most were felled, and claw marks lined the dry soil. This was where that bear had chased him out of the forest. He proceeded forward, contemplating staying a night in his cubby hole as a group of fourteen skeletons followed him. This place really was gloomy. Alen was determined to get the fuck out of here as soon as he could. He only needed to complete a few more commissions, and he would have enough money to leave Draenys and head somewhere else. He touched a tree in front of him. It had a small arrow carved into it. Alen smiled despite himself as he remembered his first few days exploring the forest. Suddenly, his hand shook as something like a chill rolled up his spine, putting his mind into a state of alertness. He blinked and listened carefully. Along with a slight thumping in the distance, there seemed to be sounds of fighting and¡­ cursing? The scar on his palm heated up, and Alen touched it by habit as he stared at the dark woods in front of him. Then, he saw it. A flash of orange light. He frowned. Another flash, light blue this time, followed by another orange flash. The lights were getting bigger. He took a step back involuntarily. There were four shapes in the distance that he could barely see as the flashes of light went off. Three people and¡­ ¡°Oh dear fuck,¡± Alen muttered, hurriedly hiding behind a tree as the figures clashed in the area to his left. It seemed like those people were having a hard time outrunning the bear. He felt cold sweat on his back. What the fuck were with these bears and this section of the forest? Granted, it was probably his fault that the bear was here, but Alen didn¡¯t want to take up responsibility for running for his life back then. He heard a roar and flinched, glancing back and seeing someone in armor getting tossed back as the bear slapped its arm against his shield, the brief flash of light on the metal¡¯s surface seeming to negate some of the impact. The bear closed in and Alen grit his teeth and closed his eyes as arrows and fireballs impacted against the bear futilely. It swiped again, and the warrior slammed against a tree before rolling to the side, dodging an attack and keeping his life. A fireball slammed into the bear again, and this time it turned towards the young man that tossed it. The young man paled and began to run, and Alen heard the young man scream as the bear ripped off his arm with its disgusting long claws. A white-haired elf jumped down from the trees and barely pulled him away before the bear tore him apart with its next attack. The young man suffered a deep wound to his stomach. The smell of iron reached Alen¡¯s nose and he roared in frustration as he burst from behind the tree, his fourteen skeletons surging forward as he gripped his left fist so hard that his nails dug into the scar on his palm. ¡°Fucking dumbasses! Give me a fucking break!¡± He screamed at them and the bear, as his skeletons turned black one by one, and the feeling of his mana leaving his body filled his mind as his undead charged. The bear turned and bit at a skeleton, but it ducked under the attack, its claws scraping against the bear¡¯s chin and inflicting a shallow wound. More skeletons weaved in, leaving superficial cuts all over its body as two picked up the collapsed warrior on the ground began to run. The bear stood up and roared, crushing two skeletons with its massive paws in the process. Alen shot a Blightbolt at the bear¡¯s mouth. He missed and it ended up decaying a patch of fur in its neck instead. He ordered another skeleton to drag the injured mage away as he glanced back at the elf behind him. ¡°What are you doing? Do something!¡± He shouted, but flinched as a boom rang out from the bear slamming an empowered skeleton to the ground. The elf stood up and nervously glanced at the undead around her before a look of understanding crossed her face. She drew her bow, sending an arrow at the bear¡¯s head. It pierced its unprotected nose, blowing off the right side of it and freezing the area around the wound. After this, she began to back off, shouting back at him. ¡°Ghoulbears have no defenses near their faces, aim for the mouth!¡± ¡°Whoa dude, no fucking shit!¡± Alen grit his teeth as he shot back a reply and ordered his skeletons to move carefully, having them surround the bear and attacking in a melee version of a ranged volley. The bear roared, and Alen heard ringing in his ears. He was panicking. He needed to calm down. He looked at the skeletons carrying the warrior and sent them into the fray, seeing as how the warrior had woken up. The young man in his twenties wearing plate and leather stood up groggily and blinked, trying to get the focus back in his eyes. The elf shouted something at the warrior, but Alen couldn¡¯t hear it through the deafening ringing in his ears. The elf fired a few more arrows as the bear killed another three of Alen¡¯s minions. He felt the thread attached to the minion carrying the mage fade away. This was a losing fight, and Alen didn¡¯t want to stay around any longer. He motioned profusely to the other two and ran, taking four skeletons with him. He didn¡¯t look back. He¡¯d bought them enough time, and if they still stayed around to die like dumbasses, he couldn¡¯t do much about it. Trees and withered shrubs passed his vision in a blur as he ran towards his hiding place, his reliable cubby hole. Every now and then, he¡¯d hear the bear roar, and booms would follow, and he would feel one of the four strings of mana attached to him fade away. In the corner of his vision, he saw the brown haired warrior and white-haired elf running nearby, shooting arrows and blocking any debris that flew towards them. Eventually, Alen reached the cubby hole and dived in, the two others following behind him as they rolled down the dirt slope grunting. Alen hit a wall and cursed, getting on his feet as he stared at the entrance. Boom! With an explosion, dirt rolled down the slope as the bear¡¯s claws dug into the hole, trying to get in. He heard the warrior cursing and hurriedly checking his bag for something, but Alen was currently in a daze. He hadn¡¯t been in this cubby hole in a while, but it looked as dreary as ever. He stared at the slowly widening entrance and the sharp claws of the monster tearing it apart, and felt a seed of anger inside of him. This was a horrible idea. He¡¯d basically led them to their deaths. Instead of at himself though, Alen felt angry at the bear. This thing had been a figure standing above him since his first day here. It had made him feel weak and afraid. Even now, he noticed the shaking of his legs and the pain in his hand as his nails dug into his flesh. This bear wanted to kill him, and Alen didn¡¯t want to die. In order to live, he¡¯d have to kill this bear¡ªmake it submit to him. An image of a spell burned inside his head as he prepared to cast Control Undead. He glanced at his mana. Seventy-seven percent. He would do it. His mana would reach into this bear and tear it apart from the inside, taking away any shred of bloodthirsty will it had and making it obey him. He would rob it of its ability to fight his commands by completely dominating it from the inside. Destroy and burn away at what was within it until it was his to control. Alen¡¯s emerald eyes began to glow in the darkness as large amounts of his mana bubbled in his hand. It condensed, altering the spell as it bunched together into something that looked like liquid darkness. Alen felt like his head was about to explode, his mana surging into the spell at a terrifying rate. The mana in his hand was dripping, curving from the fall and collecting back into his hand in an endless loop. In front of him, the entrance was torn apart, the bear¡¯s upper body drilling into his safe place. Soon, the entire crevice¡¯s ceiling collapsed around him, falling as dust rose from the ground in tendrils of smoke. The bear roared and charged towards Alen, leaning its body as it swiped with its massive paw. Alen roared in response and charged at it, feeling its claws digging a whole inch into his side as his hand dripping with the black-green mana clamped shut against the monster¡¯s face. The spell activated. And then everything turned black. Book 1, Chapter 8: The Chicken and the The Damsels in Distress Book 1, Chapter 8: The Chicken and the Damsels in Distress
Alen dived, a small bang ringing out from behind him as the bear¡¯s jaws clamped shut against empty space. He twisted his body and closed his eyes as he raised his arms. A boom reverberated out as the bear¡¯s paw slammed against a wall of black-green mana that rose up from the pitch black floor, shattering it as Alen had the mana on the ground pull him backwards, away from the bear. It charged at him and Alen cursed, sending spikes of darkness stabbing at it and tearing into its thick hide. The ghoulbear closed in and Alen punched out, a large fist of black-green mana forming and hitting the bear¡¯s cheek. He turned around and ran, propelling himself forward with a pillar of mana from below his feet. He sailed in the air, but the bear chomped down on his leg, dragging him back down and slamming him against the floor. His chin hit the ground hard. Alen tasted blood. He felt his chest get crushed by the bear¡¯s massive paw and coughed out blood. Its jaws ripped out his neck, the blood pooling out from below him as he lost his life. Alen¡¯s corpse exploded in a torrent of black-green mana that sunk into the ground. Not even a moment later, a large amount of mana formed into the shape of a person nearly a hundred meters away. The mana melted off the person¡¯s body and revealed Alen who heaved profusely, gulping in large amounts of air as he stared at the bear charging towards him. He¡¯d been here for a relatively long time, and he¡¯d been killed by the bear multiple times. Whatever his spell did, it put him here and had him fight the bear in a deathmatch. Every time he died, he would revive, but as he glanced at his mana, every time he controlled the darkness in the ground and came back to life, it would slowly decrease. Alen didn¡¯t want to find out what would happen if he ran out. He glared at the bear and began to move to the side, the black floor under him allowing him to glide over quickly it as if it was ice. He created bolts of darkness as he moved, sending them shooting towards the bear, glancing past its thick hide. He summoned skeletons from the ground, black-green minions rising and charging at the bear to give him time to think of his next move. What was he going to do? What was he going to do? Alen looked around in a panic. Nothing but empty darkness. His attacks were wounding the bear, but they looked like petty wounds and he didn¡¯t trust his mana to hold out at the rate he was going. The bear bulldozed through his skeletons and tore at his makeshift defenses, shredding them easily. Alen spread his arms out and swept them inwardly, two giant spikes of mana thrusting at the bear and digging inches deep into its shoulders. That didn¡¯t stop its charge though, as it forcefully let the spikes rip through its skin to reach Alen. In a panic, he scrambled away and sent a flurry of attacks backward, but most missed in his haphazard use. The bear tore his torso apart and killed him once again. His mana lowered to forty-two percent. Alen reformed and stared at the bear with bloodshot eyes. The feeling of death was very real here. And it felt like every time he died, the more attuned he was to the essence of this place. The feeling was extremely unsettling. He reached down and touched the ground, trying his hardest to form a more complex type of attack. Until now, he had a lot of difficulty forming complex spells. He groaned as the form in front of him collapsed. The bear charged once again and killed him by biting his head clean off. What was he doing wrong!? He vomited on the black ground from the feeling assaulting his head, even the liquid leaving his body was black-green. Dying was nauseating, and he¡¯d died no small amount of times. His mana was at thirty-seven percent. Something was being done wrong. He knew this. But what? He reached into the ground and tried to manipulate it, the mana bending to his will without much problem until he tried to form a complex form of attack. He sent blades of darkness slashing at the bear, wounding it further until he died. Thirty-one percent. Alen gritted his teeth as he tried his hardest to figure out what he was doing wrong. He would reach into the ground with his mind. It was natural to him. He felt powerful, but he wasn¡¯t powerful enough. He was killed again. Twenty-four percent. His mind raced and reviewed all his experiences, his life flashing before his eyes. He sent a multitude of attacks at the bear again. It was like molding play dough. Easy and uncomplicated. He died again. Eighteen percent. Suddenly, Alen¡¯s memories stopped at one moment. He sat alone in a dark crevice, gaunt and his eyes bloodshot, frowning as he manipulated a small cloud of mana. It would condense, expand, and move in a line, but that was it. Easy but limited, like molding clay. He could not build a powerful enough structure with clay. Alen¡¯s emerald eyes shone as he stared at the bear. He had the ground bend to his will, moving him back further to buy him time. Seventeen percent. Alen was going about it wrong. It couldn¡¯t be helped that he didn¡¯t realize it sooner. He was a fucking dumbass after all. He grinned despite the desperate situation, laughing at his own stupidity. In his mind, lines of code raced and formed, the first skill he¡¯d created running at full power. He was using it. Mana Programming. A loop function to gather as much mana as it could, to compress¡­ to form a shape until the if-statement governing its power was fulfilled, have it rise, form above him. As Alen did this, a massive guillotine of mana formed in the empty black sky above. It glowed an emerald green and a powerful aura of death radiated from it. It formed and compressed onto itself. Smaller, smaller. He roared as the mana drained from the ground at an alarming rate, turning the smooth black floor whiter and whiter. The guillotine was sharp. It was the world, his remaining mana compressed into a single spell. The ground stopped moving him backwards, the mana being used transferred over to the spell. The bear was getting closer. It swiped towards him with both claws. His spell was completed at the same time. The guillotine slammed down and cut off three-fourths of the bear¡¯s neck as its two claws heavily lacerated Alen¡¯s stomach and chest. Alen looked at his mana. Zero percent. He looked at the bleeding monster in front of him, unable to even move due to its severed spinal column. Alen looked down at the blood gushing out of his destroyed stomach and grinned madly at the bear despite the intense pain that blanked his thoughts. It stared back at him as he spoke. ¡°Guess whoever dies first wins, right?¡± Alen coughed up blood, the grin slowly leaving his rapidly paling face. ¡°Shit,¡± He said, staring straight into the eyes of the barely breathing foe in front of him. His vision blurred, and his eyes began to close as the smile was completely wiped off his face. Whatever the fuck happened next, at least he felt as badass as he did in this last moment. Eilynn watched as the claws about to tear into the emerald-eyed young man¡¯s side stopped abruptly. The black-green mana in his hand sunk into the skull of the bear, which collapsed like a puppet with its strings cut. Suddenly, the young man gasped in large amounts of air as he clutched at his chest, kneeling down as sweat poured down from his forehead. He sat there, still for a few moments as Eilynn and Roland stared in bewilderment. Finally, he relaxed and wiped the sweat from his pale face. In front of him, the bear slowly stood up. Roland drew his sword, but the young man raised his hand and stopped him. He struggled to get on his feet, and the bear lowered its head, allowing him to get on and secure himself between two of the large bone spurs on its back. He looked at the two of them with a satisfied grin and spoke. ¡°I¡¯m so fucking awesome,¡± He said. ¡°What¡­¡± Roland said, staring at the massive ghoulbear dumbfoundedly. The young man looked at both of them, his bloodshot eyes barely open. ¡°You know, it¡¯s about time I said a cool line. Here it goes,¡± His laugh was cut short by the pain in his side, causing him to grimace. ¡°Fuck, um... You guys need a ride?¡± ¡°Y¡­Yeah,¡± Eilynn said, pulling the warrior forward as she cautiously climbed the bear, as if it would lash out at her any moment, and sat down securely on a space behind the black-haired young man. Roland followed, sitting down beside her with a grunt. He looked at the person in front of them, who¡¯s shoulders were slumped. ¡°How did you¡­ do this?¡± He said, and the young man in front of him jumped, as if being jolted awake from falling asleep. He looked at the both of them blinking and spoke. ¡°So you two assholes almost got me killed, so I guess an introduction is in order,¡± He laughed weakly. ¡°My name¡¯s Alen. Presumably necrophilic corpse-fondling necromancer,¡± Alen finished, and the bear began to climb the slope leading outwards, the cold dry air blowing into their faces as they surfaced. Eilynn pulled out a vial full of red liquid from a bag strapped to her side and handed it to him. ¡°Drink this potion. Draenys-made, so there¡¯s a guarantee in quality and manufacturing.¡± Alen drank the potion and groaned as the wounds on his side closed at a slow, but visible rate. He frowned and mumbled something under his breath. Roland looked behind them, staring at the dark forest with a frown. ¡°Where are we headed?¡± He said. ¡°To my sex-dungeon full of big, burly, muscular orcs,¡± The young man said, and seeing that there was only silence behind him, he sighed. ¡°Draenys. The city? Big walls. Watch towers go shoot-shoot.¡± The warrior frowned. ¡°Are you making fun of me?¡± ¡°I saved your lives and got you a ride on a ghoulbear. Cut me some fucking slack,¡± Alen shot back, the bear obediently stepping over a fallen tree as they moved in the direction of the city. Alen looked at the blue screen in front of him.
System Message!
Congratulations! You have continued on your path as a mage by improving a skill. Control Undead has changed into Dominate Undead. Improve the spell further to unlock a path that has never been tread before.
Roland sighed and leaned back against a bone-spur. ¡°Are you part of the expedition?¡± ¡°No. Ghoulbears fuck me over enough. No way I¡¯m going deeper into this place,¡± He distractedly said, yawning as he waved away the message. Eilynn stood up and looked behind them, scanning the forest. ¡°You said your name was Alen? You must be new to the city. Necromancers are rare and sought out in this part of the continent and people don¡¯t usually ignore ones like you.¡± ¡°Are they as welcome everywhere else?¡± ¡°¡­No, fish-folk and Sun Elves hate your kind. It¡¯s a slap in the face to their beliefs.¡± He sighed. ¡°Thought so. You guys are trainees of the expedition right? I knew I shouldn¡¯t have joined. They¡¯re basically sending you out to do shit on your own.¡± ¡°They teach us a few techniques to hunting the undead. No military in the continent does it better than Draenys¡¯s, with the forest right beside it and all,¡± Eilynn said, leaning against a spur with a frown as the bear swayed lightly in its steps forward. Alen opened his mouth to say something, but Roland raised his arm to stop him. ¡°Eilynn, you hear that?¡± ¡°For a while now, yes,¡± She looked at the ground. It was shaking slightly. Behind them, the noise of a large group moving began to boom out louder. Roland drew his sword and clenched it tightly, sweat forming on his nervous face as he glanced back from his seat as the seed of a realization bloomed in his mind. ¡°This is not good.¡± ¡°What the fuck are you on?¡± Eilynn pushed the sound of the two arguing to the back of her mind as she focused on the distance. The trees were shaking, and the ground was trembling. Alen in front of them frowned and looked back, grimacing from the pain of moving his body. ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡± He said, squinting to see better in the dark. The elf nocked an arrow and aimed. ¡°Make the bear move faster.¡± ¡°What?¡± Suddenly, zombie burst through the treeline, an arrow coated in a frosty aura pierced through its head and killed it. The roaring intensified as dozens of zombies and undead running on four legs ran out into their line of sight. Eilynn pushed Alen back into his seat with a pale face as she drew more arrows in a panic.This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience. ¡°Run, you fucking idiot!¡± She screamed. Roland scrambled up to position himself near their flanks. ¡°Run!¡± Alen sent a series of commands to his ghoulbear as a stream of curses left his mouth. ¡°You don¡¯t have to fucking tell me twice!¡± He nearly fell off as the bear exploded into motion, bounding over dead trees with jumps that made his stomach feel like it was sinking. It tore apart trees in the way, ramming into zombies and skeletons in its mad charge. Behind him, Eilynn released arrows at an unexpected speed. Roland eyed the ghouls running on four legs that had caught up to them. They jumped, and he gritted his teeth, slamming his shield against a ghoul and knocking it back off the bear. It rolled past them on the ground, but more were coming. The warrior¡¯s knees buckled when the bear bulldozed through a tree, slapping away the zombies that popped up in front of them. He kicked off a zombie that managed to grab onto the bear, shouting back at the necromancer behind him. ¡°Can¡¯t you help us!?¡± ¡°Of course I can¡¯t you dingus! My mana¡¯s completely drained from taking over this motherfucker right here,¡± He motioned to the bear they were on. ¡°Best I can do is make sure we don¡¯t fall off, now stop whining and Spartan kick those zombies!¡± ¡°Spartan wha¡ª!!¡± Roland stumbled as the bear suddenly turned, causing him to drop his shield. ¡°Watch it!¡± He growled. ¡°Both of you shut up and focus on not getting us killed!¡± Eilynn reached for an arrow, but found that there were none. She drew a dagger from her waist and held it in a backhanded grip, stabbing through the throat of a ghoul slowly climbing through the ghoulbear¡¯s matted fur. A rotten hand reached for her foot and snagged her, causing her to fall, barely holding on to a bone spur on the bear¡¯s back as the screaming zombie was dragged across the ground behind her. Roland sliced off the zombie¡¯s arm and grunted as the bear leaped. He barely held on to the elf and one of the spikes of bone on the bear¡¯s back, preventing both of them from falling off. ¡°Are you trying to get us killed!?¡± He screamed. Alen held onto the bear¡¯s fur, his face pale as he gritted his teeth and responded. ¡°Unfortunately enough, no!¡± They heard a familiar roar behind them as a ghoulbear bounded into view. It ran alongside their mount, just slightly behind. It lunged, tearing off a piece of flesh from their ghoulbear¡¯s hind leg. Alen cursed and gathered the small bits of his newly regenerated mana to form a small Blightbolt. He aimed and tossed it back, getting lucky and landing it in the opposing bear¡¯s eye. It howled and stumbled forward, falling and rolling away from their sight as they left it in the dust. Roland smiled grimly. ¡°Good shot.¡± ¡°I try,¡± Alen said, sweat pouring down his forehead at his forceful expenditure of mana. The pain was almost unbearable, as he continued to give the bear detailed commands on where to go. Above them, giant bats dotted the sky and swooped in, their entire torsos splitting in half to reveal a giant mouth full of jagged teeth. Eilynn formed a knife of ice in her hand and threw it at the bat, slicing open its wing and causing it to fall to the ground. Dozens more followed, swooping in as three long tongues dripping with saliva extended from their bodies. Alen abruptly turned the bear. ¡°Hold on!¡± He said, going into a patch of the forest with thick trees and nearly causing the three of them to fall right off from the sudden movement. The bats lessened in number due to the large amount of trees, the warrior and the elf behind him fending off the remainder of the bats still chasing them. Alen kicked at a skeleton trying to grab onto the bear, too desperate to find its weird fall amusing. He felt rows of teeth pierce his arm as a bat bit him. He felt the tongues digging into his wounds and screamed, grabbing it by the face with his other hand and squeezing as he forced out more of the regenerating mana from his body, making the bat screech and fly off as part of its face suffered from the black, dead tissue caused by Alen¡¯s mana. His eyes began to close, but a slap from Roland kept him awake. ¡°Fall asleep now and we all die! Keep¡­ going!¡± The warrior roared as he blocked a bat that was trying to bite at his neck with his arm. Its teeth sunk into his flesh and he drove his sword into its opened torso, killing it. Alen felt his eyes watering from the sheer pain in his head, causing his vision to blur. The white streaks in his black hair increased as he forced his mind to keep sending orders into the bear¡¯s head. He hit his head against a bone spur as they left the boundary of the forest, abruptly going downhill as a tsunami of undead surged out from behind them. Eilynn sheathed her dagger and started hitting the last of the bats swooping down at them from the sky with her bow, using it like a bat to knock them away. She had cuts and marks all over her body as well, the onslaught of undead continuing as bats began to chew away even at Alen¡¯s ghoulbear. In front of them, watchtowers shot down crossbow bolts from the above as the men on the walls shot flaming arrow after flaming arrow at the horde below. Magic colored the sky in the hues of various spells as mages destroyed the flying undead. A ray of light would occasionally drop down from cannons mounted on the walls, causing explosions and killing dozens of undead. Alen turned the bear and made it run at a part of the wall that was yet to be sieged by the dead. Roland pulled out a crystal from his pocket and infused mana into it, causing a bright light to shine out as they approached the wall full of nervous soldiers. Another light shone up from above, red this time, followed by three green flashes. The snow elf beside Roland cursed as she drank a health potion. ¡°No use getting closer to the wall, they aren¡¯t letting us in,¡± She said, wincing as her wounds slowly closed underneath her barely functioning armor. Alen watched his mana slowly regenerate. It was at three percent. ¡°What the fuck? Why!?¡± He closed his status screen and glared up at the guards on the wall. Roland grinded his teeth beside him and strained out an answer. ¡°It¡¯s too late. They don¡¯t want to risk opening the gates during an attack and want us to use the emergency entrances hidden around the city instead,¡± The warrior¡¯s expression turned dark as he stared at the approaching horde of undead behind them as their mount raced along the side of the wall. ¡°Entrance B3 is left un-manned during emergencies, and we won¡¯t be able to hold out long enough in the passage leading to it for a guard to open the barrier and let us in.¡± Alen gripped his left hand tightly, pressing his thumb against the scar on his palm. ¡°Where is this entrance?¡± ¡°Didn¡¯t you hear what I just said? We¡¯re better off charging into the horde and hoping the guards on the wall provide us enough support to get out alive.¡± Eilynn slung her bow over her shoulder unsteadily as the bear bounded forward. ¡°It¡¯s up ahead from here Alen. Keep following the wall.¡± Roland frowned. ¡°We¡¯re really doing this?¡± ¡°We don¡¯t have much of a choice,¡± The elf shrugged, drawing her dagger and looking up at the night sky above them that was full of devastating magical lights, protecting them from further attacks from the maneater bats. ¡°For what it¡¯s worth,¡± Alen forced out a laugh as he patted the ghoulbear¡¯s head. ¡°I¡¯ll at least thank you guys for giving me the chance to dominate one of these fuckers before I die off tonight.¡± ¡°I¡¯d thank you for saving us a while ago, but you¡¯ve nearly gotten us killed enough times to cancel that out,¡± The elf replied, a grim smile on her face as even the warrior beside her twisted his lips a little. The next few minutes were silent, as the areas they previously passed were flooded with the dead, their pace steady as the bombardment from above slowed the dead enough to be unable to catch up to them. That would be ending very soon though. Roland pointed at a large flat rock ahead and told Alen to have his ghoulbear tip it over. Below it was a wide set of stairs leading downward created to hold a large amount of evacuating civilians and retreating soldiers. Without hesitation, they quickly entered the hole, the large booms of battle ringing out from behind them. It was a fairly long passage, but with the speed of their mount, they were able to reach the end in a matter of minutes. They found a stone door by the end. The warrior pulled a lever and the door slid to the side, but in front of them now was a glowing yellow barrier. It was transparent, and the clean basement-looking room on the other side seeming to taunt them. With a grunt, Alen got off the bear and the two followed. They called out to the other side of the barrier, but no response was heard. Alen frowned, his eyelids feeling heavier by the second as waves of fatigue rolled across his body. ¡°How the hell do we get in with this barrier in the way?¡± Eilynn sat down and started creating more ice-arrows with her magic. ¡°There¡¯s a lever on the other side that makes the barrier disappear, but I¡¯m guessing they¡¯ll only be using the button that lowers it for a second to let us in. Until someone gets here, we have to focus on not getting killed.¡± Alen groaned, sending the ghoulbear forward using one of the two strings of mana attached to him. It would act as their vanguard for as long as it could. He leaned on the barrier and watched his mana slowly regenerate. ¡°Everything¡¯s going to be alright,¡± He muttered. ¡°What?¡± ¡°I¡¯m calling flags on purpose before any of you fags can do it. Since I¡¯m aware that they¡¯re a thing, I¡¯m trying to like, counter-raise the flags so we come out alive. It¡¯s like reverse psychology, but with flags.¡± The warrior raised an eyebrow as he secured the iron plates on his leather armor. ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re saying, but it¡¯s good to have hope. We¡¯ll get out of this.¡± Alen let out an exasperated sigh. ¡°You aren¡¯t supposed to be doing it, dumbass. It¡¯s counter-intuitive. It¡¯s like painting a target on your forehead. You¡¯re probably going to die in some heroic death a few minutes from now, sacrificing your life to save your damsel in distress.¡± Eilynn grinned as she stood up and dusted off her pants. ¡°Make that two damsels.¡± Alen nodded. ¡°Yes. Make that two damsels.¡± The warrior in front of them was about to refute that he¡¯d be the first to enter the barrier, but the sounds of feet and claws rapidly tapping against stone floor stopped his reply. Dark expressions made its way into their faces. ¡°They¡¯re coming,¡± Roland said. ¡°Yup,¡± The elf nodded and reached for an arrow of ice she¡¯d created and stored in her quiver. ¡°Here comes round two.¡± Alen looked at his mana that was at twelve percent and sighed. ¡°Please count me out.¡± ¡°We unfortunately don¡¯t have a choice,¡± Roland muttered. The ghoulbear crunched the torso of a zombie in its mouth, slapping a ghoul into a group of undead farther in the back. Another ghoul jumped onto the bear and tore out strips of the flesh on its front side. Beside the bear, Roland desperately swung his sword at the seemingly endless horde of zombies and skeletons charging towards them. An arrow zipped past his shoulder and hit the face of a ghoul that was about to hit him. The bastards were much faster than the zombies, and Roland was extremely thankful for the help he received from the elf. Taking the opportunity, he cut off the ghoul¡¯s head and retreated a step to give himself breathing room. Undead surged forward, and Alen directed his bear to block the way. It was slowly being worn away. It wouldn¡¯t be long until it died at the rate of which the undead were tearing it apart. Slowly, they were pushed back, and Alen found himself borrowing Eilynn¡¯s dagger to help against fighting the undead. He was so unskilled it was painful, but with the state of his mana, he didn¡¯t have much of a choice. The wound on his left arm he¡¯d received from a ghoul a while ago was slowing him down as well. His ghoulbear continued to beat against the undead as they were slowly pressed closer to the wall. Alen cursed. Shit, why were the guards still not here? The barrier should¡¯ve opened by now. They were going to get killed at this rate. A zombie managed to land a hit against Roland, causing him to stumble and suffer a leg wound from a skeleton that lunged at him. He crushed its skull with the pommel of his sword and grunted as he stabbed his sword into the body of the zombie that hit him. Eileen shouted out from behind them. ¡°Fourteen arrows left!¡± Alen¡¯s ghoulbear lost the ability to move its left front leg as a strike from a ghoul¡¯s sharp lacerated claws severed an important muscle that let it move. A zombie bit at its neck, and skeletons began to climb it. What were those soldiers doing? Fuck, was the attack that bad? He gathered his mana and casted empowerment on the ghoulbear again, making this one last for three minutes. He didn¡¯t let his mana dip below five percent. He felt that if he let it hit rock bottom another time, his consciousness wouldn¡¯t be able to hold out. Pain was stabbing into his head as-is, feeling like hammers banging against the back of his eyes. The bear moved forward, bulldozing through a large group of undead as it tore into the rotting flesh of its kin. A cut tore open its stomach, causing its decaying black intestines to hang out and drag across the ground. A hand stabbed into its eye and it roared, its movements slowing. Alen had it fall back, but it was already too late. The bear had been fighting for too long. It collapsed on the ground in front of them, dead. It served as a blockade for the undead like a funnel, but it wasn¡¯t enough. Alen watched as one of the two strings of mana connected to him disappeared. Wait. Two strings? His face suddenly lit up as he remembered the one undead he¡¯d left in the city this morning. His chicken! Hurriedly transmitting a command to it, Alen made it start moving towards his direction. All he had to do was hold out for a bit longer. He couldn¡¯t believe he didn¡¯t notice the string a while ago. He was too panicked. It was something that¡¯d get him killed one day. He stood behind Roland and covered for any undead that tried to flank him. It was shabby, but it bought them more time. Two arrows flew past them and killed three zombies, one arrow managing to pierce one and kill two. A ghoul slipped in and tore at his shoulder before Roland managed to kill it. He fell back and his back thumped against the barrier, his torso bleeding profusely. Eilynn tried to cover, but there were too many undead. Roland¡¯s injuries continued to pile up. Eventually, he even lost his sword when it got stuck inside a zombie¡¯s corpse. Alen weakly gave him his knife and drank a health potion Lynn had lent him before the fight. He felt his wounds close, sucking in air at the sharp sting that greeted his senses. He felt the string of mana connected to him getting closer. The chicken wasn¡¯t far. It was getting closer. Roland was tackled to the ground, dropping his knife as Alen managed to kick the skeleton off. The warrior nodded at him and slammed the skeleton¡¯s head against the ground. It took him two hits to kill it this time. He was starting to weaken. Alen felt the thread. Closer, closer. A ghoul ran past Roland and dug its claws into Lynn¡¯s stomach, causing her to cough up blood as she stabbed the undead in the face with one of her arrows. She gulped a potion and fired her last three arrows, buying Roland enough time to get back on his feet. Alen charged in and stabbed a zombie in the chest with Eilynn¡¯s dagger. It didn¡¯t die, and the zombie¡¯s nails raked through his back before he could stab through its spine. Eilynn grabbed the dagger from his as he fell back, assisting Roland in melee combat as they tried their hardest to fend off the undead. Expressions of desperation filled their faces, and their bodies felt like they were dropped into a cauldron full of boiling water. Aches, wounds, and fatigue continued to pile up. They were pushed farther back. Their backs were to the barrier now. Nowhere to run, nowhere to maneuver . The warrior laughed as blood dripped from his wounds. ¡°Guess you were right, Alen,¡± he said, punching a zombie and pushing it back. ¡°I¡¯m feeling plenty¡­ ugh, heroic.¡± Lynn suffered a deep wound across her torso, the ghoul¡¯s claws shredding her armor as she let out a pained cry. Gritting her teeth, she pulled it in and drove her knife up its skull. Her body began to sag. ¡°Save that¡­ for when you manage to get us out of here,¡± She said, her eyes drooping from exhaustion. The elf¡¯s knife dropped to the floor, and she fell back. Instead of hitting the barrier, she kept falling, until she hit the floor, the air getting knocked out of her lungs. Beside her, she felt another body fall to the ground beside her. It was Roland. Her vision was blurry, and she couldn¡¯t see properly. In front of her, she saw someone staggering forward before falling down and supporting himself against a table beside him. Beside him stood the form of something white and thin. Like a skeleton. Was that¡­ a chicken? Lynn heard his words as she slowly lost consciousness. ¡°I am so fucking.. awesome¡­¡± Alen said, falling from the table and collapsing on the ground as the skeletal chicken looked down at him. Alen never felt so thankful towards a chicken in his entire life. His blurry vision picked up the men in armor entering the room in a hurry, kneeling over the two new people he¡¯d met today. They really looked like shit right now. Alen laughed, but it came out as dry wheezing instead. It hurt. Alen¡¯s eyes slowly closed as well, blankness filling his thoughts as his mind went to somewhere else as he spared a final glance at the message that told him he had passed a threshold. He definitely deserved to fuck off and be lazy tomorrow. Yeah. That¡¯s what he would do. Book 1, Chapter 9: A Much Needed Rest Book 1, Chapter 9: A Much Needed Rest Alen woke up with a start, rising abruptly and looking around the room. It was familiar to him. The room was small, and white walls surrounded him. Around him, just like before, were soldiers on beds. There were a few glaring differences compared to his situation from a day ago however. The walls were shaking, and the sounds of battle and explosions rang out from the distance, audible even here. Multiple medics and nurses ran into the room, carrying wounded guards in a systematic manner. There was a whole lot of groaning and whining, and the blood that stained the previously white sheets was a bit disturbing to see. He glanced around and spotted two familiar faces lying down on the beds beside him. Now that he thought about it, he still didn¡¯t know their names. He stood up from the bed and looked at them. Unconscious. These two probably weren¡¯t waking up any time soon. He left the room, his wounds mostly healed and bandaged. The doctors and alchemists passing him paid him no heed, too busy tending to the steady stream of incapacitated men and women that flowed into the room. He passed a hallway and noticed that although the room he was previously in was the same as before, this place was not the same barracks. Instead of the quarters and courtyard that were neatly placed, it was a continuous hallway that led forward, with the occasional stairwell and door that led somewhere else. Groups of soldiers passed him in a hurry, walking up the stairs and out the doors with an urgent alertness to their steps. A group passed him and Alen sighted a familiar face. Xan raised an eyebrow at him. ¡°You were brought in just a few hours ago. Unless you want to help out on the wall, I suggest you come back to the clinic. It¡¯s going to be a long attack, and most of the buildings in the city are closed. Just ask the nurses if you need anything.¡± He blinked and watched as the guard captain walked away, followed by a group of capable looking soldiers. Seeing that he had nowhere to go, Alen returned to the clinic where it was safe. He didn¡¯t have to worry about vagina bats here. As for going outside and helping the military full of people more capable than him in defending the walls? Fuck that. Alen sat on a chair just beside his bed. Some dying dude would probably need that mattress more than he did. He opened up his status screen to see the changes to his stats.
Status:
Name: Alen Race: Human Type: Necrotic
Health: 82% Stamina: 46% Mana: 93%
Strength: 12 Dexterity: 13 Agility: 11
Constitution: 12 Vitality: 13 Resistance: 11
Intelligence: 18 (+) Wisdom: 21 (+++) Control: 22 (++)
Skills: Mana Programming, Dominate Undead, Lesser Blightbolt, Lesser Undead Empowerment, Numb Senses, Summon Skeleton Minion
He grinned. These were good increases. He wasn¡¯t too far off from his next threshold either, which was good. Seeing as how the fifth threshold was the absolute minimum requirement to joining the expedition, it really was a good idea to stay back here in the clinic and let the big boys handle their big boy problems. He checked his messages. Damn, he missed a lot. He¡¯d been ignoring it for a whole day now, considering his difficult circumstances, but it was stupid how long those fuckers could talk and still get shit done. He opened up the Egg Chat. He didn¡¯t really care about the public one at this point. He knew nobody there, and most people only talked about more things regarding this world in there. He didn¡¯t want to spend his spare time worrying even more than he already did.
Egg Chat Room
Adam: i got so mr. miyagi¡¯d by these elves man. Its kind of badass Anne: Wha. Bernard and I are just on the road. His mentor told him to go around the surrounding villages and quote on quote ¡®test his skill¡¯. Bernard: Hey man. making hoes and axes for villagers is hard. they order in fucking bulk and expect me to finish the orders in just a few days Adam: shhhh, stfu. dude, you know how i was being taught how to dance a few days ago right? Anne: Yeah? Adam: they pulled some karate kid bullshit where all those moves were about fighting and shit. it¡¯s cool as fuck. Sam: MAGES Sam: WALK Sam: THEIR OWN Adam: holy shit shut the fuck up sam Sam: PATHS James: Same dude. Anne: Yo Sam, where are you at? You left the orc village right? Sam: Yeah man. Some people visited the village and Orgha convinced them to have me take his place in escorting them around. Bernard: am I literally the only one here with a stable source of income? Alen: I earn about ten silver every two days. Bernard: Fuck you. Sam: Whoa man chill. Adam: what kind of shit have you been doing anyways alen? you¡¯ve been dead for days Sam: Team never on. Anne: Alen. Tell us dude. We got you.
He updated them on his situation and got a torrent of replies that was a mixture of anger at his income, jealousy at how badass undead assaulting a city sounded, and jokes about him probably spending the last few days in some sort of red light district. Alen nodded at the general lack of concern shown after he described nearly dying multiple times in one day. Yup, these were his friends alright. The sound of a bed creaking to his left caught his attention as he raised his head. On the bed adjacent to him, the white haired elf had sat up, rubbing her forehead. ¡°Yo,¡± He said simply, continuing to talk to his friends through the blue screens. She looked around and let out a relieved sigh when she saw that none of the three of them had died. Roland was still fast asleep on his bed. It was understandable, as he¡¯d handled most front line combat out of the three of them. With the exception of the bear of course, that thing was a fucking tank. She looked at the young man who seemed to be fiddling with the system. ¡°We¡¯re in the city, right?¡± ¡°Yeah,¡± He nodded. ¡°Cuck got us in.¡± ¡°Cuck?¡± ¡°My undead chicken. It pressed the button you were talking about,¡± Alen said, waving away the screen in front of him and looking at the busy nurses around him. Yeah, he was definitely not asking for food in this situation. He pulled up his bag which was set down beside his bed and took out a small wooden container. He opened it and took a bite of some of the spicy chicken jerky. He extended it out to her. ¡°Want some?¡± Eilynn took a piece out from the container and bit into it. She tilted her head as she chewed. ¡°This is really good. Did you make this?¡± ¡°I wish,¡± He said, swallowing a bite. ¡°Some guy in the city square owns a shop that dries and preserves meat. It¡¯s fucking amazing how good he can make these.¡± They continued to eat in silence, but Alen quickly noticed the quickly emptying wooden container. He glanced at Eilynn and saw her devouring the meat. He frowned and tried to pull the box out of her reach. She gripped it with her hand and kept it in place. Fuck, she was stronger than him. ¡°What are you doing?¡± Alen pulled at the container again. She took another piece of meat and bit into it, grinning at him. ¡°The gods preach of sharing one¡¯s blessings with another.¡± ¡°Fuck you,¡± He pulled at the container a bit more, but gave up eventually, sighing and just taking some of the meat to eat for himself. It was kind of like when he ate fries with his sister back home. Two people racing to eat more of the fries on the table before the other person managed to guzzle down the rest. It was a welcome feeling. Alen was eventually able to time his consumption properly, managing to pluck the last piece from the box. He bit into it and laughed. Amateur. He had years of experience. The elf clicked her tongue and leaned against the wall behind her bed. ¡°Thanks,¡± She muttered, though it sounded more like a complaint. He raised an eyebrow at her. How could she still be complaining after eating about half of a whole container? Those usually lasted him a day with no problem. He sighed and brought out a second container, handing it to her. He had another sack of chicken being processed right now anyways. Of course, she began to eat again as if nothing happened. Alen gave her a look. ¡°You know, you¡¯re eating large portions of my limited food supply and you still haven¡¯t introduced yourself,¡± He said. ¡°I haven¡¯t?¡± She asked. ¡°Neither of you have.¡± She set down the container and pointed to herself. ¡°My name is Eilynn, but I prefer you call me Lynn instead, it rolls off the tongue quite nicely and speaking of which¡­¡± She said, taking a bite, and pointing at the warrior on the other bed as she chewed. ¡°Tha¡¯ guy,¡± She swallowed. ¡°That guy¡¯s Roland.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t suppose he eats as much as you do?¡± ¡°How rude. Elves biologically have larger and more efficient stomachs than humans, so we can eat and live without food for longer you know? It¡¯s a blessing,¡± She said. Alen scratched his head. ¡°You guys have the word ¡®biologically¡¯ here?¡± Lynn tilted her head. ¡°Yes? Why would you¡­ wait, are you a new arrival?¡± ¡°I am, yeah,¡± He nodded, standing up from the bed. ¡°Should¡¯ve guessed as much. You have that country hick look on your face at all times,¡± She said, grinning. ¡°Where¡¯re you going?¡± ¡°Checking out what a ghost city looks like,¡± Alen motioned outside and paused. ¡°¡­Are you coming?¡± She smiled and stood up, before she walked past him, slapping him lightly on the shoulder to motion him forward as she looked back. ¡°Come on. Let¡¯s go get something to drink. I know a few stands that stay open even during an attack.¡± ¡°What about Roland?¡± ¡°Judging from those injuries, he won¡¯t be waking up until night time at the very least,¡± She said, shrugging. ¡°Either way, I can bet you the pay on those drinks that he¡¯ll head straight to the wall after he wakes up. He¡¯s been harping on about wanting to see an attack since I met him a few days ago.¡±If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. Alen sighed and followed behind her almost reluctantly. He probably wouldn¡¯t get drugged, raped, and sold to slavery by following her anyways. Would he? The city wasn¡¯t as dead as Alen expected. People were running left and right, trying to complete daily tasks as soon as possible before going into their homes and locking the doors tight. The amount of clicks he heard from one of the doors was enough for one to think it was guarding some sort of royal treasury. From the direction of the Com-House, mercenaries flowed out of the building, headed to the wall with papers in their hands. Alen assumed they were going to help out. He took a sip from the juice in his hands and grinned. It tasted just like a banana milkshake, but with a cool, minty aftertaste. It even had small bits of fruits and berries in it, giving him a burst of flavor whenever he bit into one. The elf in front of him finished handing some coin to the woman and waved goodbye to her. She was most definitely a regular at this stall. Alen felt the coin pouch in his pocket and sighed. At least Lynn decided to pay for his drink. Well, she did eat a lot of his food, so he guessed it was even. ¡°Let¡¯s go to the Com-House,¡± He said. ¡°I¡¯ll turn in a request real quick.¡± ¡°Yeah, me too,¡± She distractedly said, trailing behind him while looking around and taking the occasional sip from the drink in her hands. They chatted idly, passing hurried citizens and locked houses. It felt weird to Alen, walking with someone like this. It used to feel so natural, having someone to talk with. He really had been too stressed over the past two weeks. He only realized now how much he missed the company, due to how foreign it felt now. There was always that feeling of distance whenever he talked with Conrad and the rest of the soldiers. Lynn and Roland were the only two people near his age that he¡¯d talked to in person since arriving here. Speaking of which, how old were these two? Roland had a full beard, but his face was way too young to be anywhere hear his thirties. ¡°Lynn.¡± ¡°What? I¡¯m not paying for another drink. These things cost a fortune.¡± ¡°Fucking cheapskate,¡± He told her. ¡°Anyways, how old are you and Roland? Elves are supposed to live for like, forever, right?¡± ¡°Ah,¡± She grinned. ¡°You got lucky with me. Elves usually stop aging by twenty years old, but we only live for about five hundred years. I¡¯m nineteen this year. As for Roland, I don¡¯t know, twenty-four? Five, maybe?¡± ¡°I wouldn¡¯t call myself lucky,¡± He said. ¡°Elves are supposedly wiser the older they are, right? I finally understand now though, considering that you were that deep in the forest during night time. Not very wise,¡± She laughed. ¡°Coming from the guy that led both me and Roland into two dead ends in one day.¡± ¡°I mean, I got you out, so I win this entire exchange.¡± Eilynn shook her head and motioned in front of them. ¡°We¡¯re here,¡± She said, pointing to the large Commissions House in front of them as she tossed her drink¡¯s thin container into a bin from a fairly impressive distance. He glanced at the bin. ¡°Do elves have to aim for everything they do?¡± ¡°Shut up and appreciate how beautifully that cup flew into that bin instead,¡± She pushed open the doors and Alen followed her in. The inside was as neat and orderly as ever, the only difference being the smaller amount of people inside. Most were probably at the walls, trying to pass thresholds and earn some extra coin. Alen walked up to the silver-haired man on the counter and greeted him. ¡°I¡¯m here to turn in a commission, Sander,¡± Alen pulled out his card and pushed it along the table towards the man. ¡°Three of those basic subjugations, and uh, one for clearing out a section of the forest.¡± Sander checked the card and passed him a pouch full of coin. ¡°This is only for the subjugation. We¡¯ll put the pay for the Clear Commission inside your account as soon as the lumberjacks confirm that part of the forest is safe to harvest wood from.¡± Alen nodded and took out ten silver coins from the pouch, before handing the rest back to the man. ¡°Put these into my account as well. Oh, and is there a fee for withdrawing cash from your branches in other cities?¡± ¡°There are none.¡± He nodded and thanked Sander, leaving the counter and sitting on one of the cushioned chairs near the entrance. Eventually, he heard steps going his direction and looked up to find Eilynn. ¡°You done?¡± He asked. ¡°Yeah, but all the money I earned flowed back into the guild anyways.¡± ¡°What, why?¡± She waved her hand to the side. ¡°I paid the fee for dropping out of the expedition. After that experience, I don¡¯t like the idea of going deeper into the forest. I want to improve my skills and practice a bit more before I try doing something as dangerous as that again,¡± She said, mimicking the motion of drawing a bow and releasing an arrow with a smile. ¡°Fair enough,¡± Alen said, looking out the windows to see a setting sun that bathed the surroundings in an orange light. He stood up and dusted his pants off. ¡°It¡¯s about time I fuck off back to my inn.¡± Lynn nodded. ¡°I doubt they¡¯ll let us in the clinic again. I¡¯ll miss that bed.¡± ¡°I know, right? I wish my inn¡¯s beds were those comfortable.¡± They laughed and the elf started to fiddle with something in front of her. It looked like she was looking at blue screens. They were invisible to Alen though. ¡°Are you in a party?¡± Lynn asked. ¡°No fucking way, those are a thing?¡± Alen gaped, looking on as the elf sighed.
Initializing¡­
You have received an invite to join Lynn¡¯s Party!
Warning, mana distribution is set to: semi-shared. You may leave the party at any time. You will join this party¡¯s chat room if you accept.
Accept Refuse
Alen grinned and immediately pressed accept. ¡°You better not leech off my XP.¡± Eilynn grinned back. ¡°I¡¯m assuming that¡¯s what you call the mana we get from killing monsters, right? A larger portion goes to the person that lands the last hit, so I¡¯ll make sure to snipe all of yours from afar.¡± He laughed. ¡°Fucking try me.¡± The elf smiled and left, pushing open the doors and stepping out. She looked back. ¡°I¡¯ll buy you another drink if you reach your fifth threshold before I do.¡± ¡°Deal,¡± Alen said, and with that, she left. He walked out of the Com-House and returned to his inn, making extra sure all his things were still there. Even entry into the place was hard, as he had to wait for the innkeeper to unlatch all the locks in the back door, where he was let in. In his room, he had an extra bag, more of the jerky, some spare clothes, and waterskins. As for the important stuff, like his phone and earphones, they were safely stored inside his personal storage space in the Com-House. It¡¯d cost him a bit of money to retrieve them, but the security was very much worth it. He decided to have a look at the public chat room for once, but quickly closed it after seeing that there was some sort of argument. People in arguments say stupid shit, and that argument looked especially tense just from the three to four messages he read. He wasn¡¯t really in the mood to listen to that kind of stupid shit. As for the other kind of stupid shit, he looked at the chat room that had his friends in it, but it looked like they were all busy. It seemed like Sam hadn¡¯t figured out how to make a notepad using the system either, as he was sending messages in the chat as a way of storing information about what he was learning. The way Sam handled magic was¡­ pretty vague to him. It had a lot of self-made terms Sam probably made to make the way he used his magic more concrete. Alen shrugged and told him about the notepad he managed to create as he munched on some chicken jerky. He kind of missed steak. And food that wasn¡¯t chicken jerky, for that matter. Beggars couldn¡¯t be choosers though, he told himself. After telling Sam, Alen checked his screens and found that the system had used his format to create a chat bubble beside his first two, one aptly labeled Lynn¡¯s Party Chat. He¡¯d definitely find a way to change that into something he¡¯d laugh at eventually. Finally, as he finished his meal, he drank from one of the waterskins and lied down, glancing at the small amount of things in his room. Alen decided to go shopping tomorrow. Not only did he need the break, he needed equipment as well. The whole mages not wearing armor sounded like bullshit in his opinion. He knew nothing about defensive spells, so he¡¯d have to buy some leather armor at least. And some clothes that didn¡¯t look like they came from a charity drive, along with an actual staff. From what he¡¯d heard around the city in the past week, it could augment magic and make mana usage more efficient, something he desperately needed right now. With this, he nodded to himself and went to sleep. Operation Get A Long, Hard, Rod would start tomorrow. Alen stood in front of the closed shops and cursed. ¡°Shit.¡± From beyond the wall, the muffled booms of the cannons continued to sweep through the still quieter than normal city. The attack still wasn¡¯t over, apparently. Well, it looked like Operation Get A Long, Hard, Rod was a no-go for today. He¡¯d gone over to the market to confirm, and as he was told, the shops were still closed due to the attack. He asked around, and was told that some attacks could even last as long as half a week. Alen wondered just how much undead were in that massive forest to be able to go in at such numbers for so long. He stood around the square for a moment, agonizing over what to do next. Alen decided to go on a walk. It was kind of lonely, actually. He underestimated how desolate a city full of locked doors could feel like. He could feel stares on him as he walked past the residential district, and the occasional hurried citizen didn¡¯t do much to ease how dead the city felt. Eventually, Alen stumbled into an area of the city he¡¯d never entered before, and just as he was about to leave, he spotted a building with its doors still open. The building was large, with multiple dome-like rooftops poking out. It was painted in the colors white and royal blue, and looked very majestic on the outside. It kind of looked like a cathedral, but the feeling was different. More quiet and reserved. He approached and found that it was relatively deserted on the inside, noting the sign that he passed by the entrance: Draenys Public Library. Alen spotted a person sitting by a table near the entrance and figured that it was the librarian by the formal attire the woman wore. He approached her, and she looked to be in her forties, with her brown hair tied in a bun. She saw him and raised her head, a mild expression of surprise on her face. ¡°This is a surprise,¡± She said. ¡°Is the attack over already?¡± Alen blinked, then shook his head. ¡°Nah, it isn¡¯t. I was just walking around the city and saw that this building was still open. Am I uh, allowed to stay here?¡± She smiled. ¡°Of course. Even with the threat of flying undead passing through the blockade and entering the city, our library doesn¡¯t close its doors. The pursuit of knowledge must never be hindered,¡± She said. ¡°I am Nirah, you are?¡± ¡°Alen,¡± He said, shaking the hand that she had extended. ¡°Do you have any books on the basic principles of magic or something along those lines? Some books about this continent¡­ Talaria, was it? Yeah, Talaria, would be good as well. Just basic information and notable places and landmarks.¡± The woman nodded. ¡°The ones on magic are on the second floor, on the seventeenth shelf to the right after that staircase,¡± She pointed at the stairwell behind her that led upwards and continued. ¡°As for information about Talaria and the territories inside of it, they can be found there.¡± Noting her directions, Alen went to work and walked around the library, finding himself lost in the shelves. He¡¯d always been fond of places like libraries. They served as tiny escapes for him, made him lost in the mazes of bookshelves full of novels he¡¯d read and the perpetual silence that floated about. He¡¯d only really wandered about in his old school¡¯s library, as the nearest library from his home was miles away with the exception of the one at school. This place was a whole different level compared to that one. For the first time in his life, Alen truly felt lost within the library. He didn¡¯t even doubt for a second that he was definitely lost. He couldn¡¯t even see the entrance anymore. He grinned and continued walking about, a feeling of peace and nostalgia lighting up inside of him. Eventually, after minutes of wandering, he found the books he was looking for. He grabbed a few about the continent he found interesting. Afterwards, he waddled up the staircase with about three or so books under his arms. Finding a lone table near a window, he set the books down and went to the magic section. Magic Theory Vol. 1, Magic Stones, Schools of Magic, A Study on Mana Type Attunement¡­ There were almost too many. No, there were too many, and Alen found happiness in that fact. He had a lot of reading to do. Sitting down on his table, he flipped open one of the books on the Talaria Continent and began reading. Words streamed by his eyes as the time trickled by, the book handwritten in beautiful writing that seemed to tell a story of its own. It spoke of the deserts to the north, the forest cities of the elves, and the settlements carved into entire mountains where the orcs and dwarves engaged in a rivalry for their love of smithing, and the sprawling cities of the humans¡¯ territories. Those were just a few of the hundreds of sentient races he¡¯d seen mentioned throughout the books as well. There truly was so much to learn about this world. He read and read, silently enjoying his time in the gigantic library, the tenseness in his shoulders that he hadn¡¯t noticed were there slowly fading away as only the sounds of flipping pages entered his ears. The entire place smelled of paper and books, and gave off a profoundly peaceful atmosphere. There was a light smile on his face as he read about basic principles in magic. Apparently, even though mages had to find their own ways in the world, there were some techniques almost all mages could use. Meditating in order to siphon mana from the air, infusing one¡¯s magic into items to let out effects, and surprisingly, the effects of having a spirit familiar, and much more. Alen was surprised at how little he really knew. How was he going to contract a familiar with his magic system? Siphon mana from the air to increase regeneration? Alen definitely had to try those out as soon as he had the chance. He was definitely gunning for a badass familiar as soon as he figured out how the whole thing worked. He set down the book and was about to open the one about Magic Stones when a ding interrupted him. He opened his status screen and saw that there were a few messages in his new party¡¯s chat. It honestly kind of surprised him how the elf managed to make a chat. Now that he thought about it, he hadn¡¯t even looked at it once. As soon as he opened it, instead of the usual chat screen, he heard voices in his head as a small blue screen with an icon in the center popped up in front of him. ¡°Ah, he¡¯s here,¡± A man¡¯s voice said. He recognized it as Roland¡¯s voice. Next, the voice of the elf he¡¯d walked around the city with yesterday rang out. ¡°Alen, where were you? We¡¯ve been trying to send messages through for hours now. Roland and I are taking a break from helping out on the walls.¡± Alen shook his head and tried responding, but his words obviously weren¡¯t going through. Lynn¡¯s voice rang out in his head again. ¡°Oh, you¡¯re probably figuring out how to respond, right? I had to teach Roland this morning as well. Just hold down the button on the system¡¯s screen and speak normally.¡± He did as told and spoke. ¡°You guys are farming XP without me? I can¡¯t believe you¡¯re that stingy with your money, Lynn. It¡¯s just juice.¡± ¡°What¡¯s XP?¡± Roland said. He heard Lynn¡¯s voice in his head again, a sigh audible. ¡°It¡¯s what he calls the mana we assimilate from monsters. Anyway, you want to come with us for lunch?¡± ¡°Is Roland paying?¡± Before the warrior could respond, Lynn¡¯s voice rang out quickly, cutting him off. ¡°Yes! Roland is definitely treating us.¡± Alen could already picture the glares the two were probably sending at each other in person right now. After a moment, he heard Roland speak. ¡°Fine. I¡¯ll pay for both of yours just this once. I owe you both my life on multiple occasions anyways.¡± Alen let out a cheer and sent a message of his own. ¡°Just tell me where you guys are headed and I¡¯ll catch up. Also, how are you sending voice messages through the system, Lynn?¡± Eilynn let out an ¡®oh¡¯ and spoke. ¡°I didn¡¯t figure it out. There are some merchants in major cities that have mages who specialize in mental magic hired. I paid for one to guide me through the process of making this communication channel, but as per the contract, any memory of how to do so were erased from my mind. They take these secrets pretty seriously.¡± He nodded. Well, either Sam could figure it out, or they¡¯d have to pay to add a voice function to their chat. As if reading his thoughts, Lynn spoke again. ¡°Ah, and this system only works within a certain distance, and increasing it costs more money. We won¡¯t have to worry about the distance right now though,¡± She said. Roland¡¯s voice rang out in his head. ¡°We¡¯re headed to the restaurant first. It¡¯s near the main street. What do you want us to order for you?¡± ¡°Do they have steak?¡± ¡°Roasted venison.¡± Alen nodded, grinning. ¡°Aight. Take that, then. I¡¯ll see you guys there.¡± With that, he stood up from his chair and set down the books, stretching his arms outward as he yawned. He felt good today; relaxed. He went down the stairs and waved goodbye at the middle aged lady in the library, walking out into the paved stone road with a lightness to his steps. A rest every now and then wasn¡¯t bad, he thought to himself, feeling that the silent surroundings around him didn¡¯t feel all that oppressive anymore as he headed to where the people he¡¯d recently met were. It felt good to him, thinking those thoughts. Alen smiled and walked forward on the stone path, one step at a time. Book 1, Side Chapter: Hunting in the Forest Book 1, Side Chapter: Hunting in the Forest
[Adam] The metal sheen of a sword blurred in the air, a clang resounding out not even a moment later as two swords collided. One sword was tilted slightly, causing the other blade to slide along its length and get caught in the first blade¡¯s cross guard. The user of this blade, a brown-haired young man, tilted his blade, twisting the other one around and propelling his sword forward into a quick thrust. The person in front of him, an elf with hair the color of bark, twisted his body gracefully and avoided the strike, going in with a thrust of his own. Adam swept his blade to the side and spun, the dagger in his left hand deflecting the strike away with a small ding. He bent forward and jumped, landing a jump reverse hook kick on the elf¡¯s blocking forearm and leaning forward to throw a sweep kick from below his attacker. The elf in front of him dodged and jumped back, throwing the sword in his hand towards Adam. Adam failed to receive it, the blade striking his chest heavily. He fell back with a groan, his back on the ground as he panted. The dull metal blade clanged to a stop beside him, the elf walked forward and picked the sword up, before squatting beside him. ¡°The life of the trees upon you, friend. That was a good spar,¡± The elf said, helping him up. ¡°Yeah, yeah,¡± Adam said. ¡°The life of the trees and shit on you too. Can we get to dual-wielding now?¡± The caramel-skinned elf in front of him shook his head. ¡°No, up next comes¡ª¡° The both of them stopped as the sound of a low horn reverberated throughout the forest village. Wood elves jumped down from the tall trees around them, landing gracefully and running into the woods. Adam tossed his blunt sword to the side and followed, the elf beside him sweeping up two pairs of bows and quivers from the side and tossing a pair to Adam. He caught it and slung both onto his back with practiced motions. Trees passed them quickly, nearly blurring at the sheer speed at which they ran. Adam jumped and began climbing a tree, the elf behind him laughing as he followed. ¡°Don¡¯t fall off and break a leg again, okay? I¡¯d hate to drag you to the healer a third time.¡± Adam winced, his speed visibly slowing as he took more care in his steps. Due to this, the elf overtook him. ¡°You¡¯re a fucking dick,¡± Adam said. ¡°Swords up ahead,¡± The wood elf said, his hand touching the bark of a tree as he ran, a portion slipping off with his hand to reveal a wickedly sharp blade with a curved edge. It had the pattern of the tree¡¯s bark on it, and gave off the feeling of nature, almost as if it was grown by the tree itself, instead of being crafted. Adam grabbed another from a different tree, sheathing the blade to the scabbard on his waist. He separated slightly from the elf, grabbing another weapon from the trees, a small, curved dagger. The elf glanced back and motioned ahead. ¡°I¡¯ll head to my station. You head to yours.¡± With this, Adam nodded and left the elf, heading in a different direction as he jumped from tree to tree with a grace and lightness to his movement that he previously didn¡¯t have. Never was he so thankful for dance lessons in his whole life. Finally, he stopped as he landed on a small structure on a tree. It was completely melded into the wood, as if the structure itself was not build by hands, but by the influence of nature. Adam plucked an arrow from his quiver and drew his bow, waiting. A few moments later, two large boars the size of a small car burst through the trees nearly a hundred meters ahead. Adam released an arrow. Then another, then even more. Most missed until the boars reached the forty-meter mark, upon which the arrows struck and sunk into their thick hide, enraging the beasts further. Adam jumped from the small structure and landed on the branch of a tree nearby, continuing to release arrows as he circled the boars from above. Angry squealing rang out from below him as the beasts rammed into trees, knocking the smaller ones down. Finally, Adam ran out of arrows and sighed as he glanced at the boars chasing him in a rage. Archery really was his weakness. He couldn¡¯t do much with it at all. He jumped from the tree and landed on the ground with a slight grunt, still not used to landing from heights above six meters. He drew his sword, and held his dagger in his other hand. Now, was the fun part.This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it The nearest boar charged and completely burst through a tree the size of his waist. Adam spun, and his blade glided along the boar¡¯s tusks as he ducked. Its tusks impaled the air above his head as he flipped the dagger in his hand into a back-handed grip. With a grunt, he stabbed it into the boar, eliciting a pained screech as he was dragged along the beast¡¯s charge. Adam held on tight to the dagger, nearly falling off as the boar smashed through another tree. He had his mana surge into his arms, the Augmentation school of magic doing its work as he climbed on top of the giant pig. He gathered mana in his hand, shrapnel from a tree slicing into his cheek as he pressed the hand against the boar¡¯s head. Immediately, his spell activated. It was a staple among the wood elves, a magic from the Enchantment school: Tame Animal. He felt a connection form between him and the boar, but the pig continued to rampage about, the flaw of the magic evident: activation time. It needed a good amount of time to tame a beast, even if it was just a simple giant boar the elves hunted on a daily basis for food as they rampaged through the forest in their daily fits of rage. It was apparently to entice the females of the species. Adam thought it was stupid. With a shlick, his dagger emerged from the boar¡¯s hide bloody as he jumped off and landed behind it. He glanced back and grit his teeth, hurriedly diving to the side as the second boar rumbled into the area he was previously in. It passed him and slammed against a large tree, unable to break it as it staggered to look at him. The first boar, the one he cast his magic on, also looked at him in silent fury. Adam looked around him and noticed that he was now surrounded by large, old trees. These shit-eating cunts probably wouldn¡¯t be able to break through these. It was time to play some pin ball. The second boar charged and Adam watched carefully as it kicked up dust and neared him. He remembered a movement from the numerous dances and steps the elves had taught him. Mana filled his leg as he stepped forward with his right foot and twisted. An instant later, the boar passed the place he was previously in, its head banging against a tree as it howled in anger. It looked up and found Adam in the air, the speed of his ascent so fast that it looked like teleportation to the wild boar¡¯s eyes. He descended and his hand lightly slapped its head as two spells activated at once; a feat that forced even the elves to praise him. Tame Animal, and Fluttering Steps activated immediately. Fluttering Steps caused his tiny movement to propel him upwards again, his hand grasping the branch of a tree above him as his Tame Animal spell sunk into the boar¡¯s skull. He grinned as the two boars below him rammed repeatedly at the massive tree. Adam watched calmly from above as he sat on a branch, waiting for the effect to settle in. After a few minutes, the boars stopped and simply looked up at him, their foreheads bloody from ramming the tree. Adam nodded and got down from the tree, running back towards the elven village with the two tamed boars in tow. He really had to hurry. Tame Animal was still in its lesser stages, and a forceful taming had a limited duration. Adam ran up beside a boar and jumped, using it as a mount as they headed towards the village. Then, after seeing that the trip would take about ten minutes, he opened up his chat window.
Egg Chat Room
Jamal: im back guys Anne: Whoa, is that Jamal? We thought you died off somewhere dude. Adam: fucker was probably off trying to abduct some kids James: Got em. Jamal: i passed my fourth threshold thing yesterday Anne: Wtf Jamal? Sam: Whoa dude. Alen: How many thresholds have you passed Sam? And what the fuck Jamal. How even. Are you in a city being assaulted by undead or something too? Adam: hi guys about to pass my fourth threshold here Sam: I passed four too man. I¡¯m making some spells now tho. Jamal: they¡¯re taking us out on field trips to kill monsters and its so cool. i¡¯ll find you guys when my contract with the army ends in five months Bernard: did someone say¡­ kids!?!?!?!? Anne: Get out. Alen: I¡¯m just taking a break and shit. I¡¯m super close to passing my fifth threshold anyways. Adam: fuck you. i wanted to spawn in an area full of easy enemies to grind, but no. at least i¡¯m stuck with an assassin build. glass cannon main boys Sam: Not sure you¡¯d want a glass cannon build in this place man. Adam: what. your power¡¯s literally fucking ice magic. how tanky could you be Sam: I know some earth too dude. You¡¯d be surprised at what Alteration magic cast with earth-mana properties can do to ice armor. Alen: Whoa, what the fuck? What are you talking about Sam? Sam: Mana types man. You can use more than the one, but it costs more mana. The spell you told me about, Summon Skeleton Minion? It uses principles from the Restoration School, and Soul Magic, which is a mix of Restoration, Enchantment, and Evocation, but you¡¯re casting it with the properties of Necrotic-type mana to alter the base effects of the spells from those schools to suit your spell. It¡¯s in Magic Theory dude. Alen: Holy shit what the hell. I¡¯m fucking off now. I have to read up on this shit. It¡¯s found in books, right? Sam: Yeah. Bernard: can we just talk about how Jamal is essentially going to suck the military¡¯s dick for half a year? Jamal: fuck of bernard Anne: Yeah Bernard. Fuck of.
Adam laughed and closed the chat as the village came into view, revealing multiple other elves from the hunting party assigned for today¡¯s work carrying the corpses of dead boars into a building, while the ones with tamed boars led the animals into a pen and locked them down before the taming could wear off. He had another elf take the boars inside the pen and watched outside, enjoying the feeling of the sun on his skin. Eventually, he heard someone shouting his name. It was a group of elves, wearing practice armor and blunted metal weapons. Adam grinned. He¡¯d probably lose the fifth threshold to Alen, but he was definitely passing that tenth one first. Adam turned around and walked towards the group, his steps steadier than ever. Book 1, Chapter 10: Two Weeks Later Book 1, Chapter 10: Two Weeks Later
[Alen] Alen flipped open the next page of the book, the nearly faded black text being scanned by his eyes as he reached the end of the second volume of Magic Theory, piles of book relating to magic and mana types that he¡¯d read over the past two weeks surrounding him as he read. ¡­The Schools of Magic are numerous and new branches are discovered by the decade. Type is merely the nature of the user¡¯s mana; constant and capable of adjustment. A mage with nature-type mana can channel flames from the school of Evocation, mana of holy alignment may cast curses, etc. An example of this is the Chilling Flame spell, one of the most basic melded magic created used by novices to practice their control. This spell takes the freezing properties of ice-type mana and mixes it with the explosive, rampaging properties of fire mana to create a blue flame that sticks to surfaces as if burning; spreading frostbite in place of burns¡­ He flipped to the next page and sighed, closing the book as he read the last few sentences that summarized all that was explained in the old pages. Alen gazed out the window and squinted his eyes as he looked down at the watch on his wrist. He¡¯d taken this thing with him when he arrived in this world, and it had been a great friend to his scheduling. Returning the book to its respective shelf, he walked out of the library to a cozy-looking restaurant a few minutes away. As soon as he entered, the smell of freshly baked bread and the clicking of spoons and forks greeted his senses. Alen smiled as he saw an orange-haired warrior sitting alone on a table. ¡°Yo,¡± Alen said, sitting down across the warrior and raising a hand in greeting. ¡°Yeah,¡± Roland muttered, looking through the menu in front of him. ¡°Pork shoulder or Genn¡¯s hound stew?¡± Alen shrugged. ¡°I haven¡¯t tried either of those, so I suggest you go for the true master race; Rudwing sandwiches, which is the actual deific manifestation of food.¡± ¡°If there was an actual god of food, you¡¯d have been smited by now.¡± ¡°If that was the case, the cunt would¡¯ve lost a perfectly good worshipper.¡± As the two of them exchanged idle chatter, an elf walked into the restaurant, attracting a few curious glances due to her snow-white hair. She pulled on a chair and sat down in between them, letting out a tired sigh as she fixed her messily assembled ponytail. Roland raised an eyebrow at her as Alen in front of him called a waitress over to their table. ¡°Yeah, yeah, I¡¯m a mess,¡± Lynn said, snatching the menu from Alen and browsing through it. The necromancer ordered the Rudwing sandwiches, which were essentially glorified square-shaped burgers, along with some juice, before looking at her as the waitress took Roland¡¯s order. ¡°The fuck happened to you?¡± Alen asked, resting his chin on his palm to give her a look. Lynn sighed. ¡°Well, when you dragged me around the city yesterday night to look for new equipment, I forgot I had a request to finish from the Commissions House. I didn¡¯t get a wink of sleep last night trying to finish it.¡± Roland set down his menu. ¡°Did you, though?¡± ¡°Yes,¡± She nodded, smiling. ¡°I have enough money to buy that Waterwood Bow I¡¯ve been eyeing since I got here now.¡± ¡°See, I¡¯ll help out with your commissions next time. It¡¯s a great way to leech off of your XP, Lynn. You should¡¯ve messaged me man,¡± Alen grinned and took a sip of the juice the barmaid had set down in front of him. ¡°No no, not again,¡± She said. ¡°You already beat me to the fifth threshold three days ago. My only consolation is Roland¡¯s¡­ what was it? Leveling speed?¡± Alen nodded. He¡¯d been using gaming terms so much over the past week that the two had begun to use them as well. Roland meanwhile, let out a sound of complaint. ¡°Those ghouls are really fast you know? They aren¡¯t something I can beat easily, so I¡¯m still stuck fighting zombies that don¡¯t give as much XP.¡± ¡°If you guys give me another chance to touch a Ghoulbear, I can cast Dominate Undead, and we can finally kick Roland out of the party. Ghoulbear best tank,¡± Alen grinned. Roland drank from his mug and grinned back. ¡°I think you¡¯re forgetting how many times I¡¯ve saved your ass from ghouls that slip past your undead, Alen. Though, I¡¯d expect nothing less from a necromancer that doesn¡¯t raise his Agility rating.¡± Alen let out a snort. ¡°Pfft. I have Lynn for that. Instead of getting XP, I¡¯m delegating her to the role of my personal ass-saver.¡± ¡°You do realize I¡¯m the party leader, right?¡± Lynn laughed. The necromancer in front of her snapped his head towards her. ¡°Shut up you white man. Take your privilege somewhere else.¡± ¡°What does that even mean?¡± She shook her head and took a drink. Time passed idly, and as the food arrived, Roland stabbed his fork into a piece of meat and shoved it in his mouth. He looked at the two around him who were doing the same and opened his mouth to speak. ¡°You¡¯ve both dropped out of the expedition, right?¡± ¡°Yup.¡± ¡°I never intended to join in the first place.¡± Roland nodded and swallowed the bite he had taken. ¡°I¡¯m planning on dropping out too.¡± ¡°Whoa dude,¡± Alen grinned, biting into his glorified burger. ¡°You¡¯re finally succumbing to your urges and joining the male escorts in the red light district? ¡®Grats, man. Really proud of you here.¡± The two chose to ignore him completely, something they managed to figure out in the two weeks they¡¯d known him. Lynn took another sip and spoke up. ¡°What¡¯re your plans, then? As you two already know, I¡¯m leaving the city in three days.¡± ¡°I plan to do the same after I settle all the requests I¡¯ve taken here. Draenys isn¡¯t the kind of place I¡¯m looking to stay long in, especially this early into my journey,¡± Roland said. Alen swallowed and pointed at them. ¡°See, you¡¯re leaving, and you¡¯re leaving. I plan on leaving for the western side of the continent,¡± He pointed to himself, then pointed to the two again. ¡°We¡¯re all leaving, so why don¡¯t we leave together?¡± Lynn looked up at him. ¡°Sorry, I don¡¯t need someone to leech off the mana I assimilate.¡± Roland nodded, grinning. ¡°I¡¯m tired of saving you repeatedly, you know? Plus, the smell that hangs around your undead is beginning to stick to you.¡± The elf followed up. ¡°Speaking of which, do you mind moving a few tables away from us? Preferably outside, actually. Shoo, shoo,¡± She did a shooing motion in his direction. Alen stood up. ¡°You two wanna fucking fight? Fight me.¡± The two in front of him laughed and Alen sat back down, crunching on the ice inside his drink. ¡°Seriously though, you guys down?¡± The orange-haired warrior shrugged. ¡°Sure. I don¡¯t really have a destination anyways.¡± Lynn smiled sweetly at him. ¡°Buy me one of those expensive drinks and I¡¯ll consider it.¡± ¡°Fuck you. Do you realize just how many boxes of chicken jerky you¡¯ve eaten from my stock? If you start eyeing Cuck, I¡¯ll actually fucking fight you,¡± Alen glared at her as he finished his sandwich, taking a gulp from the drink in front of him. She laughed and shook her head. The three of them stayed inside the restaurant for another hour, and as they left together, it was settled. The group aptly named Lynn¡¯s Party would be staying together, even after Draenys. Though, Lynn¡¯s plans were going to be delayed by a day or two, as Roland still had commissions to finish. The three of them left the city, walking towards the forest leisurely with their new equipment. Alen let loose a Blightbolt, his mana gathering at the tip of his Rotwood Staff and exploding out in the form of a bolt the size of a fist. It exploded against the leg of a zombie that was sneaking up on Roland, who was now clad in full iron armor. The undead¡¯s leg was completely rotted away, degrading even parts of the bone as it fell to the ground and flailed, the effects of Alen¡¯s improved spell and new equipment showing their potential. Roland glanced back at him and bashed his shield against an undead, smashing its skull in as he advanced towards a zombie that was larger than the rest. Arrows made of ice swished past him, slaughtering any stray foes that tried to hinder his advance. As he advanced, Alen looked down on his body that was covered in a thick, black robe designed for mages in cold climates, with leather armor layered above it. He slipped his hand into a pocket on the side of his robe and brought out a handful of teeth. Tossing the six teeth around him, they immediately began to surge out and expand, forming into six Bone Wolves as the mana inside the teeth fueled the creation of the skeletons through the properties of the Restoration School. The six wolves Eilynn had helped him hunt a few days ago finished turning into skeleton wolves within a short fifteen seconds, immediately bursting into action and turning black as Empowerment was cast upon them. The wolves tore into the giant zombie¡¯s legs and torso, knocking it down before Roland could get through the nearly dozen zombies that continued to block his way. An arrow of frost, one with a serrated edge, sunk into a zombie, and exploded from the inside, tearing the undead apart as sharp points of ice pierced out from the inside of its body from within to make it look like a porcupine. The spikes impaled five more zombies nearby, killing four and incapacitating one as Roland ran past, stabbing a zombie through the chest and decapitating the next as he ran up to the large undead. With a grunt, his shield glowed with a soft gray light as it shattered the leg of the giant zombie. It fell to the ground as the bone wolves tore it apart. Eventually, Roland managed to land the killing blow by stabbing it through the eye as it flailed about. He heard Alen cursing at him from the back and grinned, facing forward and raising his shield as he faced the group of ghouls running towards him on all fours. The bone wolves surged forward, matching, and even surpassing some of the ghouls in speed before engaging in a mess of teeth, claws, and rotting blood. A ghoul ran past the wolves and jumped at Roland. He stepped back and twisted his body, bashing it to the side with his shield. The ghoul screeched as it hit the ground and jumped again, its claws scratching against his softly glowing round shield. His shield pulsed with a gray light before his mana exploded out from the enchantment Lynn and himself had engraved into the metal. The ghoul was thrown back, the fragile bones in its body shattering as it flopped to the ground, dead. Above him, the trees rustled as Lynn jumped from branch to branch, her thick hide coat fluttering behind her as she drew her bow. The blue crystals on its surface glowed, and an arrow of frost formed, which she immediately released. Another formed, and then another as she released them in quick succession. Five arrows flew, the first two killing a single ghoul as the last three pierced through the neck, head, and chest of three more. The six bone wolves, now not as busy as before, tore apart the four remaining ghouls. As three died, Roland saw Alen step past him and point his staff at a fleeing ghoul. Mana condensed on the tip of his staff as he increased the value of the mana variable of one of his new spells; Rotfire Bolt. It exploded forward silently, hitting the ghoul in the back as it exploded in a torrent of necrotic mana, enveloping it like a flame as its flesh was eaten away by the black-green fire.If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. Finally, the forest quieted down as the wolves came back to Alen in order to surround him protectively. The three felt the mana flow into them, and Alen opened his slightly modified status screen to check on his mana.
Status:
Name: Alen Race: Human Type: Necrotic
Health: 100% Stamina: 91% Mana: 83%
Strength: 13 Dexterity: 14 Agility: 12
Constitution: 14 Vitality: 14 Resistance: 12
Intelligence: 20 (+) Wisdom: 25 (+++) Control: 25 (++)
Skills:
Mana Programming, Dominate Undead, Blightbolt, Lesser Undead Empowerment, Numb Senses, Summon Skeletal Minion, Rotfire Bolt, Deathchill Touch
Alen sighed. He really needed to improve the efficiency of his new spells. Rotfire Bolt alone, due to it being a melded magic utilizing two types of mana, cost him an entire seven percent of his mana on a normal cast. Since he increased the output, it had even cost him nine percent this time. He suspected it would cost nearly double that had he not passed his fifth threshold, and even more if he didn¡¯t have his staff that was crafted from the trees in the area that had soaked up necrotic-type mana for years on end. The spell¡¯s power was no question though, which was why Alen continued to use it. Roland looked at him and Lynn, a weird expression on his face. ¡°Your new spells are overkill. I¡¯m surprised you still have mana, Lynn.¡± The elf jumped down from the tree and wrapped her coat tighter around her as she let out a breath that turned into faint white mist. ¡°It¡¯s a lot easier to cast it when the weather¡¯s this cold. Plus, my third highest attribute is Wisdom, so my mana reserves are still good.¡± ¡°That spell cost me like, nine percent of my mana,¡± Alen paused. ¡°Though the sticky black fire-jizz is worth.¡± The warrior shook his head. ¡°If you ever get into a duel with a mage from a noble house, do us all a favor and don¡¯t call that spell ¡®fire-jizz¡¯ in front of him.¡± ¡°Or us,¡± Lynn chimed in. ¡°Ever.¡± Alen grinned at her. ¡°Come on, Lynn. We all know you laughed the first time I called it that. And don¡¯t even try to pretend, Roland. You know you want to see more of daddy Alen¡¯s sticky fire-jizz.¡± ¡°Please don¡¯t say that ever again,¡± Roland said, walking forward with a sigh and leading the way as the two behind him started laughing. As they walked, the elf behind him urged them to stop as she jumped down from a tree and began to examine a corpse nearby. After a few moments, she raised her head. ¡°Claws ripped this zombie apart. It¡¯s either a giant, cannibalistic ghoul that hates zombies, or Alen got his wish and we¡¯re near a Ghoulbear¡¯s territory.¡± Alen stopped, and went silent. Roland looked at him and lapsed into thought, until Lynn¡¯s voice rang out again. ¡°I say we go for it.¡± The necromancer in front of her considered it for a few more seconds, glancing around at the wolves following him before looking up and nodding, a serious light in his emerald eyes. ¡°Yeah, alright. I agree. I have to confirm something about my Dominate Undead spell, and we¡¯re long due a new mount.¡± He looked at Roland. He¡¯d be facing the most danger out of the three of them, and they wouldn¡¯t be able to beat the bear without him. He looked up and shrugged. ¡°If we can get this Ghoulbear, my requests can be finished faster. My shield enchantments could barely stand up to its attacks last time too. I want to see how far I¡¯ve gotten since then as well.¡± Lynn smiled and sat down. ¡°Well then. Let¡¯s start planning boys.¡± Alen coughed. ¡°Strategizing sounds cooler.¡± The elf waved her hand to the side. ¡°Yeah, yeah,¡± Lynn patted the ground beside her. ¡°Just sit down already.¡± The ground thumped as a colossal figure towered over the shrubs and rocks, its claws sinking inches into the ground with each heavy, powerful step. One of the bone spurs that protruded out of its white fur, covered in black, rotten blood, glanced through a tree, the single spur completely shredding the wood as it passed by. Its nose sniffed at the air, but only few knew whether it was to search for prey, or merely an impulse left behind by its original form. The Ghoulbear was larger than the rest. It had thrived for years within the dead forest, hunting, killing, eating undead and filling its body with the cold decay of necrotic mana. Few dared to venture into its territory, but none would know why, as it had devoured every single party that had crossed its path. It was even smarter than the rest, hiding into a secluded cave full of bones whenever the forces of the city passed by in their yearly expeditions. It was powerful, but the priests and dwarves were more so; with their weapons and spells of holy and radiant mana eradicating the rest of its kind as easily as it did the ghouls and zombies of the forest. It gazed deeper into the trees, in the direction of the forest¡¯s heart, feeling fear in its heart as it remembered the undead¡ªundead leagues above itself that resided deeper within. Tearing into the corpse of the ghoul below it, wet, crunching sounds left its mouth as it savored every rotten bite, filling its body to the brim with ambient necrotic mana. Soon, it would become stronger, more powerful. Then, it would enter the deeper sections of the forest and devour the scourge of bone and rotten flesh in armor that had previous cowed it, and finally sink its teeth into their throats. From there, it would only go on to devour more. More, more, more. More, until it¡ª An arrow of crystal ice sunk into the ground beside it. Bang! With a loud hissing sound, ice exploded out in all directions, the spires of sharp ice mostly shattering against its thick hide, but a few, brighter and more powerful than the rest, successfully impaled a large portion of its front side. Black blood spurted out and covered the ice as the bear roared and swiped its paw, completely shattering the attack in front of it. Suddenly, a flash of black was in front of its face. The massive Ghoulbear¡¯s eye was ripped out of its socket as the Empowered bone wolf ran past it, nearly a dozen more following up as their teeth tore into its flesh. Thigh, foot, chest, neck, arm. The bear roared and destroyed nearly half of the wolves with a single, well-timed swipe. It raised its head as rocks pelted it, skeletons perched atop the trees throwing the little pebbles at it to incite its rage. The Ghoulbear charged and decimated the trees, felling the dead wood and taking the skeletons and bone wolves with them. More arrows came, sinking into its flesh and the area around it and freezing parts of its white fur. The bear looked at the direction of the arrows with liquid malevolence in its eyes. It sprinted through the trees, using them as cover from the arrows as ice and destruction covered the area in its wake. It swiped at the trees, knocking them into the air and into the direction of the arrows. It heard a surprised shout and its animalistic face almost seemed to display a grin as it rushed in that direction. Its vision began to tunnel, hungry for flesh, and for that, it paid the price. A gray glow exploded out from the corner of its vision as a heavy sheet of metal crashed into the side of its face. Its nose twisted in the wrong direction as it let out a pained growl. The Ghoulbear felt something sharp sink into its side, before it twisted its body to kick at the attacker with its hind legs. It hit the glowing shield once again, and it pulsed once more, sending a powerful shock down its hind legs as the attacker grunted and was sent flying into the distance. Strange ghouls immediately rushed at it, emitting a black-green aura as they tried to climb onto its body. The bear rolled on the ground, the light splats under it giving it a sense of satisfaction. Three more ghouls came, accompanied by a hail of frozen arrows. The arrows all pierced through a tree before hitting it; each of the twelve arrows turning into chains that temporarily locked it in place. Movement came from the trees above it as it struggled, and it saw a white-haired elf carrying a young man with emerald green eyes over her shoulders. Mana bubbled in the young man¡¯s hands as he approached, and the bear shivered as it felt the presence of his kind within the spell. It was as if the spell itself would rob it of freedom, making it acquiesce to its will. The bear roared powerfully as the smaller spurs on its back suddenly ejected, shooting out in all directions with a trail of its own black blood and decimating the surrounding trees. It moaned in agony as it limped into a sprint, jumping and shredding apart the trees in front of it. The elf and the human fell, covered in wounds and scratches, but before the bear could attack them, a sword covered in soft grey light cut into its leg, causing its knees to buckle. The Ghoulbear turned, the spurs covering its arms shrieking against the shield once again. The pulse of energy came, but it was weaker than before. The warrior side-stepped and punched with the shield, the round edge immediately glowing as the gray mana formed into a blade. The blade on the shield¡¯s edge sliced through its hide cleanly, black blood showering out and covering the warrior in front of it. The elf and the human retreated, shouting at each other. ¡°Why the fuck is this Ghoulbear so big!?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know! Just focus on killing it. I don¡¯t think I can get you close enough to use your spell on it!¡± The human covered in black cloth and leather cursed as he gripped his staff, pointing it at the bear as it bit towards the orang-haired warrior. Immediately, black flames filled with the aura of decay splashed onto the side of its face, some entering its mouth and rapidly decomposing its already corroded maw. The bear roared madly and shook its head, its vision shrouded by the black-green flames. It felt a force strike the back of its hind knee, causing the limb to bend and making the giant Ghoulbear unsteadily lurch to the side. Arrows pierced its skin in quick succession, spreading ice and frost throughout the bear¡¯s fur and bloodstream. It bashed its head into a tree in an attempt to extinguish the black flames, but it only earned its attackers a few more free attacks. Immediately, it toppled to the side and destroyed more of the surrounding shrubbery, roaring from pain and anguish the whole time. Finally, the flames died out, and the bear regained its vision. It glared hatefully at the three in front of it and gathered the mana in its body, channeling it towards the base of its remaining spurs, ones that were as large as a human torso. The human a good distance away from it, the one covered in black cloth and leather, flinched. Immediately, he began to back away, shouting to his companions as he ran. ¡°It¡¯s going to do something, get the fuck out!¡± As soon as the two other humans leapt away, the Ghoulbear let loose a powerful roar as the spurs all over its body exploded, shooting shrapnel laced with the deadly properties of necrotic mana in all directions. The trees around it were shredded to mere splinters, and the ground below it was dug out as deep as half a meter from the sheer force of the attack. It immediately took this chance to leave, bursting into a limping sprint as it disappeared into the forest. Not even half a minute later, the elf and the two humans followed suit, covered in scratches and wounds that smelled of rot. The elf took out a glass bottle of water and poured the contents all over her wounds, hissing as the resulting steam wiped away the spreading decay. Alen followed behind, his mana absorbing the properties of death as he tightly clutched onto a bone wolf as it sprinted towards the bear. Roland couldn¡¯t keep up, and was left trailing behind as Alen grit his teeth. ¡°Lynn, can you go any faster and cast that ice shackle spell again!?¡± Alen said, enduring the sharp pain of scratches all over his body. Eilynn rolled under a fallen log, bursting into a sprint once again as Alen¡¯s wolf jumped over it and followed her. ¡°I need to see the bear, and I need time to aim. There¡¯s no way I can cast it under these conditions!¡± ¡°Shit,¡± Alen sent more mana into the bone wolf, prolonging the effect of Empowerment as he clutched his staff tight with his other hand. Eventually, they were forced to stop as they reached a certain part of the forest. Just sixty meters away, the trees suddenly got thicker, and the gray of the forest transformed into a foreboding darkness. Some trees inside were knocked down, signaling the passage of the bear. The elf stopped, panting as she motioned for Alen behind her to stop. ¡°We can¡¯t go any further. Undead past that point get a lot stronger than the stuff we kill here,¡± She said, and Alen groaned and fell off the skeletal wolf, his back to the ground as he shouted in indignation. ¡°God, fuck my life,¡± He finally said, closing his eyes as Roland stumbled into the place behind them. Alen heard him talking to Lynn and stood up after a few moments, supporting himself against a tree as the light headache from using too much mana settled in. He glanced at it, and saw that his mana was around twenty percent. Alen sighed and walked towards the two, taking out three tusks from his side pouch and tossing them to the ground. Three large bone lizards slowly formed, their skeletal mouths full of teeth that protruded outward like tusks. They had six legs, and were the size of a large motorcycle, complete with weird camel humps made of bone. Alen climbed on top of one and tossed more teeth out, summoning six bone wolves and five skeleton gorillas. ¡°Let¡¯s go find another Ghoulbear after I recover my mana,¡± He told them tiredly, watching as the two climbed onto the lizards. ¡°For now, these guys¡¯ll let us go around the forest without worrying too much. As long as we don¡¯t encounter a large group or another one of those stupid ass bears, we can rest.¡± Lynn nodded and leaned back on the lizard, resting her back against the hump-like protrusions of bone that poked out from its merged spine. ¡°I want to go back already. My mana¡¯s almost completely drained from using so many of my spells.¡± ¡°Yeah, same here,¡± Roland muttered, closing his eyes as the group of undead moved forward. ¡°Your spells are just too convenient, Alen. The fact that you can compress mana into those teeth ahead of time to summon your undead is cheating.¡± Alen shrugged and gave directions to his undead. ¡°I mean, the way I handle magic is much better than the vague, visualization, and carving crap you two do.¡± ¡°Can you make a shockwave-shield? I think not,¡± The warrior glanced at him questioningly. ¡°Can you make sticky black fire-jizz? That¡¯s right. Fuck you.¡± ¡°Undead up ahead,¡± Lynn interrupted them, raising her torso as she looked at the group of ghouls and zombies that rushed towards them in a frenzy. As if fate was laughing at them, the group was exactly at the size where their necromancer¡¯s undead couldn¡¯t handle them alone. Alen prepared his spells as Roland stood up and sighed. He kind of wanted to go home now too. Book 1, Chapter 11: Beneath A Starry Sky Book 1, Chapter 11: Beneath a Starry Sky
[Alen] ¡°So um, are we all set?¡± Alen tightened his hold on his bag¡¯s strap that was slung over his shoulder. His face was a bit pale, and every breath he exhaled would turn into faint white mist. Behind him were Draenys¡¯s walls, and beside him were his two new companions. Lynn looked like she wasn¡¯t bothered by the cold as she took a glance at the gates behind them. ¡°Yeah. Roland should be back with the commissioners any time now,¡± She said. Alen sighed and sat down on the stone rails that flowed out from the gate, the yellow light of the torch beside him granting him a bit of warmth as he looked at the scar on his palm. The elf took a curious glance at him before deciding to stay silent. She watched the gates and Alen idly reached into his pocket to bring out a sleek, black object. He pressed a button and the screen lit up, displaying numerous icons. He glanced at the bar displayed on the top right of his phone and sighed. Seventy-six percent. He¡¯d been using it sparingly, almost too sparingly, but every single decrease to his phone¡¯s battery life felt like a stab into his heart. Alen held down the power button and shut it off. Eilynn caught sight of it and tilted her head. ¡°Is that...?¡± ¡°Yeah. It¡¯s the phone I told you about,¡± Alen said, thinking for a moment before continuing. ¡°I try to use it as little as possible though.¡± ¡°Well, if I ever catch you listening to that music you talked about, I¡¯ll snatch up an earpiece and have a listen too. I¡¯m curious what music is like where you live,¡± Lynn said, pointing to her long ears and sitting down beside him. Alen shrugged. ¡°Sure, I¡¯ll let you listen,¡± He glanced at the sky full of heavy gray clouds above and sighed. ¡°It¡¯s stupidly dreary for a morning, right? I swear to god, these clouds are foreshadowing that something shit is going to happen to us in our trip.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t be such a pessimist, it¡¯s probably just a little snow.¡± ¡°See, it¡¯s not pessimism, Lynn. It¡¯s the flags. The flags speak to me,¡± Alen paused and looked up, his eyes shining slightly. ¡°And the snow, huh? I¡¯ve never seen snow before.¡± ¡°Really? Does Earth not have snow?¡± Alen shook his head. ¡°Nah, we do. I just lived in an area where snow doesn¡¯t fall.¡± ¡°A desert?¡± ¡°The tropics,¡± He said, a slight smile on his face as he looked up. The elf looked up with him and spoke. ¡°Don¡¯t you miss your old home? New arrivals are somewhat hard to find in this massive continent, but I heard most of them just want to go home.¡± Alen nodded slowly, his face downcast. ¡°I miss my old home. A lot, actually. Thinking about it kind of gets me depressed, really. I have three siblings and two parents whose hairs were turning gray. I had a dog, too. If my closest friends hadn¡¯t been taken with me, I don¡¯t know what loneliness would¡¯ve done to me in my first two weeks here.¡± ¡°You don¡¯t look sad to me,¡± Lynn said. ¡°I practice,¡± Alen smiled. ¡°What?¡± Lynn blinked and looked back at him, only to see that the grin that was almost always present on his face was back. ¡°They¡¯re here,¡± He said, standing up and walking towards the orange-haired warrior that had just left the gates with a man in his sixties surrounded by mercenaries and familiar faces from the Com-House. Behind them, three carriages trailed behind, pulled by large horses that had deep blue goat horns on their heads. ¡°Yo Roland. Let¡¯s head out dude.¡± ¡°Let me introduce you to the commissioner first. Gam, this is Alen. He¡¯s one of my companions that¡¯ll be joining us, and he¡¯s plenty capable.¡± ¡°Yes. I¡¯m like, Roland, but better. Just ask Roland.¡± Lynn looked on at them, still sitting on the stone railings. She looked down at herself and back at Alen who was laughing and exchanging banter with Roland and the merchant. With a sigh, she looked back up at the sky. Why did that last conversation feel so heavy to her? Eventually, she felt a hand touch her shoulder. She looked up and found Roland staring down at her. He pointed at the carriages passing by them and spoke. ¡°What are you doing? Come on, I¡¯ll introduce you to Gam. Though you and Alen are already in because I know him, he¡¯s a man that prefers to personally know each and every one of the people he hires.¡± Eilynn looked at him for a moment and stood up, the clop of horse hooves on stone and dirt reaching her ears as she breathed in the cold winter air to clear her thoughts. After four days of repeated hunting inside the forest, they were finally off. Their final destination? She honestly didn¡¯t know. Roland walked alongside a carriage, a fur cloak draped around him to prevent the cold from seeping into his bones. He looked up and found Alen sitting on the roof of a carriage, staring at the road ahead and drumming a beat into the carriage as his legs dangled down from above. He was singing some sort of song, a tune Roland didn¡¯t recognize. He sighed. ¡°Can you get down from there, Alen? The moment this carriage makes a sharp turn, I¡¯m in danger of your foot planting against my face,¡± Roland said, grabbing his sword by the sheath and prodding at Alen¡¯s leg with the pommel. The necromancer looked down at him. ¡°Shhhh, I¡¯m out of those lizard-camel teeth, so I¡¯m on the lookout for more. The moment I spot one of those things, I¡¯m sending¡ªrather, splattering some of my black fire-jizz onto it and making it into a mount as soon as possible.¡± ¡°You ran out already?¡± Roland was somewhat dumbstruck. ¡°We helped you hunt over a dozen of those a few days ago. Where¡¯d the teeth go?¡± ¡°Well, I summon one when I¡¯m outside the city because I¡¯m too lazy to walk around. Come to think of it, I really need to re-program my spell for that so I can turn them back into teeth form. They¡¯re way too disposable as-is.¡± ¡°Wait, so how many undead are in your disposal right now?¡± Alen paused. ¡°I don¡¯t know. Lemme check, actually,¡± He said, pulling up his side pouch and rummaging through it. After muttering to himself for a few seconds, he looked back down at Roland. ¡°I have about¡­ seventeen gray wolf teeth, eight striped gorillas, eleven chickens, six of those orange bear teeth, and three really hard horns from well, horned lions.¡± ¡°You hunted some more without us?¡± ¡°Yeah man. I mean, we are going on a trip. Figured I¡¯d resupply.¡± ¡°Why didn¡¯t you kill some Hunchback Lizards then?¡± The necromancer shook his head. ¡°Couldn¡¯t find any. Lynn knows where to find where they burrow down to hibernate in the winter, but I don¡¯t. Hey, at least I have three horned lions. Those should be pretty strong when Empowered.¡± Roland nodded, then scratched his beard thoughtfully. ¡°Speaking of chickens, where¡¯s that skeleton chicken that always follows you around?¡± ¡°Oh, you mean Cuck?¡± Alen brought up his bag from the side and opened a side compartment. From it, the skeleton chicken¡¯s head poked out and stared at the warrior. ¡°He¡¯s right here. It¡¯s pretty easy to fit him into here when he¡¯s made of bones and all that.¡± Roland pursed his lips. It really was like this guy to name a chicken Cuck. He took out his waterskin and took a drink, savoring the water¡¯s cool temperature. He chatted with Alen a bit more, until he heard his name called by a different mercenary walking along the second carriage. ¡°Ah, I remember him. Deev, I think. I¡¯ll go ahead and see what he wants,¡± Roland said. ¡°Aight. See you later man,¡± Alen said, watching as Roland waved goodbye and jogged ahead to catch up to the second carriage. He looked around and sighed when he noticed Lynn wasn¡¯t anywhere nearby either. She was probably sent scouting by the merchant dude. With a huff, Alen laid down on the top of the carriage, looking up on the darkening gray sky above. It wouldn¡¯t be long until nightfall from what his watch read. He thought about talking to his friends over at their chat window, but he didn¡¯t feel like it. It was one of those moments. Alen let himself relax and stared at the sky above in a trance. He wasn¡¯t thinking about spells, or his plans for tomorrow. He wasn¡¯t thinking about anything. The blankness felt nice, like he was a fresh sheet of paper left untouched on a table, just waiting to be drawn and written on. It was peaceful. Quiet. Alen¡¯s fingertips were a bit red from the cold, so he dug them into his pockets. Slowly, he began to sing a song softly. It had been stuck in his head for a while, especially after he¡¯d listened to it half a week ago. His voice rose up gently like the mist that left with his every breath. ¡®The world¡¯s a fucked up place, but it depends on how you see it.¡¯ ¡®Life is full of change, you grow up and then you feel it.¡¯ ¡®Smooth seas don¡¯t make good sailors, jump ship and head for failure.¡¯ ¡®Find yourself a tragedy, slowly lose your sanity¡­¡¯ He closed his eyes and smiled, warmth filling his chest as the song itself seemed to playin tandem with his voice within his ears. Alen¡¯s singing was soft, but the enhanced physiques of the people around him were nothing to laugh at. Some mercenaries nearby simply chose to ignore him, but some listened and found themselves listening to the lyrics. Unbeknownst to him, Lynn was sitting on a box inside his carriage, reading a map and trying to figure out their route after they escorted the merchant caravan to the city about a week away. She blinked and looked up, recognizing his voice. The elf smiled and put down the map, stretching and jumping out of the wagon. She walked alongside it, thinking that she definitely had to force some music out of the young man above her. The style was weird, unlike the ballads and poems bards in the city would sing, but she found herself humming along to it even after Alen quieted down. Eventually, the sun set and bathed the surroundings in darkness. The merchant ahead over in the first cart had them pull into a clearing to rest. Immediately, the mercenaries went to work in setting up their tents and fires. Torches were placed around the perimeter, and a few minutes later, the smell of food being cooked wafted out. Lynn glanced at Roland who¡¯d finished setting up their tent and decided to get their necromancer down to eat with the rest. She climbed up the carriage with ease, only to find out that Alen had fallen asleep on top of the carriage. She poked him with her shoe and called out his name, but it didn¡¯t look like he was going to wake up any time soon with what she was doing. Lynn sighed and crouched down beside him, repeatedly slapping his face lightly. ¡°Alen. Alen, wake up,¡± She said loudly, his eyes finally fluttering open. He squinted and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes as he stood up. ¡°I¡¯m up, I¡¯m up. Jesus Christ, Lynn. You don¡¯t just slap a man awake, it¡¯s not nice.¡± ¡°You¡¯d complain if I didn¡¯t wake you up,¡± She said. ¡°Plus, you wouldn¡¯t want to catch a cold on the first day of the journey, right?¡±This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it ¡°Fair enough,¡± Alen yawned out, stretching his arms. ¡°Anyways, what¡¯s up? Is the tent ready or something?¡± Eilynn nodded. ¡°It is, but dinner is too,¡± She jumped down from the carriage and looked back at him. ¡°Come on, I¡¯m hungry and those mercenaries don¡¯t look like they¡¯d leave any of that deer meat for us.¡± Alen jumped and landed with a grunt, following behind her with a light jog. Roland spotted both of them, but he seemed to be enjoying talking to the other mercenaries, so Alen didn¡¯t bother calling out to him. The warrior shrugged and took a large gulp of what looked to be the bottle of alcohol in his hand. When he looked back, it looked like Lynn went off somewhere after getting her food, so Alen shrugged and grabbed himself a serving. He walked to the far side of the camp, sitting on a rock near a carriage as he idly ate his meal. As he ate, he grabbed a stick and started drawing on the dirt below. It was a program for a spell he wanted to try. His biggest problems were his mana capacity, which he could either fix by improving his spells¡¯ mana programs, which was a given, increasing his total capacity somehow, or finding a way to regenerate his mana faster. Alen had figured out how to meditate, but never got the hang of it. It was boring and idle, and he couldn¡¯t stay in it for long. It also confirmed one of his conjectures about his magic system. It looked like any spells he didn¡¯t configure through Mana Programming wouldn¡¯t show up on his skill list now, even after his control over mana increased. His other problem was his lack of debuffs and spells related to his undead. Now that he had personal defense covered with Deathchill Touch and Rotfire Bolt, he needed to get back to making his undead stronger; better. In front of him, the program for Lesser Undead Empowerment was slowly scrawled out into the dirt. It was way shorter then when he had created it the first time, the result of his continuous refining and revising of the program that ran the spell. Each segment when uncompressed would be a program in and of itself, and to improve the spell, Alen needed to have an image, and a way to make that image manifest through the program. The system had helped him out with Dominate Undead, but it looked like he was on his own when it came to this spell. It was the same for Blightbolt. He¡¯d simply improved it to a point that it could no longer be compressed into a smaller program, removing the ¡®Lesser¡¯ tag beside it. To get it to the next level, he¡¯d have to change the spell itself, then probably repeat the program-compression process. Alen needed something else. Right now, Empowerment would nourish the bones of the undead with his mana, and flood the strings of magic-muscle that let his skeletons move. Due to his created skeletons being made of enamel and dentin, they were plenty durable as-is, but they lacked offensive power. He took out a tooth from his pouch and summoned a bone wolf, placing his hand on its head as he examined the threads in its head with his mana. Alen poked at the purple strand, the one that contained the information about bone structure and anatomy. He sent his mana into it, covering it with a program and examining it. Every small piece of the strand represented a bone in the wolf, and Alen felt it. He reached one for an individual rib and ¡®activated¡¯ it with a program in the same way he would when he summoned the wolf. His mana surged, and the rib visibly bubbled, seemingly about to grow in all directions when Alen stopped. Too messy. He took the time to create a finer program with his mana, before sending it into the purple strand once more. He activated it. Immediately, the rib bubbled and grew a spike two inches long. Alen stared. He¡¯d essentially made the rib grow¡­ another rib. He took back the program and adjusted it a bit more, before sending it in again. He repeated this over and over, refining his control over the bone-matter as he adjusted the program again and again. Finally, he sighed and released the spell, the mana receding into him as he looked at the messed up bone wolf in front of him. Lumps of bone grew at random parts of its body, and spike protruded out at seemingly random locations. He¡¯d probably get some sort of spell for this, but from what he saw, his current programs weren¡¯t complex enough. If he wanted to pull something like that off, he¡¯d probably have to spend a few days programming. That wouldn¡¯t guarantee a solution to his problem, nor improve Empowerment. Alen jutted down the program for the bone-adjustment in his notepad and let it there. He¡¯d get to that in the future. Back to square one. He stared at the wolf. Empowerment was basically a temporary mana-muscle steroid. He needed to either make that steroid more potent, or give it another effect. Alen opened up his skill information screen for Deathchill Touch, something he wrote down himself as soon as he finished confirming the spell¡¯s effects.
Skill Information: Deathchill Touch
Compound the effects of necrotic mana¡¯s decay and numbness with the chilling cold of freezing type mana. The spell channels a creeping black frost onto one¡¯s arm that corrupts all living flesh it touches, stiffening and numbing an area with freezing death energy and spreading necrosis in place of frostbite. Skill Trees: Available.
Alen wondered¡­ Empowerment cost him about 0.25% of his mana for a single active minute on one undead now, which was effectively nothing. Conversely though, the spell¡¯s strength boost was constant and didn¡¯t scale like he first thought. Due to this, he suspected that it would fall off from his most-used spells as soon as he got a little bit stronger. Now, what if casting Empowerment granted his undead a lesser version of Deathchill Touch on each of their attacks? The mana cost would probably increase by disgusting lengths, but it was worth it. Just thinking about the power boost made him eager to try it. Immediately, he began to work on programming the spell. He was no longer using HTML, but rather, a different kind of programming language he¡¯d slowly developed over the month that he¡¯d spent in this world. It was based on mana, still budding, and somewhat incomplete and lacking complexity, but it enabled him to create better spells with ease. First, he basically sloppily inserted a Deathchill Touch with a reduced input into Empowerment¡¯s program, but when he tested it on the skeleton wolf, he found that D-Touch was applied to its whole body, not only weakening the effect but making it cost a whole four percent of his mana for a single minute of active time. Alen cringed and adjusted the program, taking more than half an hour to figure something out. What if Empowerment took reference to the purple strand inside the wolf in order to focus DT¡¯s output on its claws and mouth instead? It took a long while, but Alen was eventually able to have Deathchill Touch active on one of the wolf¡¯s claws. He smiled widely and raised his fists into the air. ¡°Yes,¡± he said. ¡°Fuck yes.¡± Saving the program to his notepad, he turned it off. He wasn¡¯t going to merge it with Empowerment¡¯s original program yet. He still had to have DT appear on all the claws and teeth before he could consider it an upgrade. As for tonight, he shivered and looked up. The sky was darker as midnight settled in. His head kind of hurt from programming so much, so he stood up and stretched, deciding to walk around camp. Most of the mercenaries were asleep, but he¡¯d passed a few that were sitting bored on chairs, keeping watch on the road to their left, and the dark forest to their right. Some of them even chose to climb trees, their legs dangling from the branches as they whistled and kept watch. Alen could almost swear he recognized the tune of one of them, but decided to pay it no heed. He probably heard it in a tavern back when he was in the city. The cold air caused him to wrap his robe around himself tighter. With the leather armor off and stored in his bag, it was comparatively colder even with his insulated mage robes. Eventually, left the camp and took a walk around the forest. It was chilly, and the air was full of the forest¡¯s earthy smell. Every time the wind blew, leaves would follow and sway in his direction as if to accompany him in his walk. He breathed in and out, closing his emerald green eyes as he listened to the subtle sounds of the forest around him. It felt good. Back at home, he never managed to walk around a forest like this. Most of his area was an urbanized mess full of apartments, cars, and factories. Alen took out his phone from his pocket and stared at it for a moment. Screw it, he thought, bringing out his earphones and plugging them in. His phone lit up his face with a blue glow as he opened his playlist. He chose a relaxing song and continued walking. Below him, stones and plants he¡¯d never seen before passed, the ground below full of the leaves the trees above had shed for the coming winter. Alen spotted a nice rock and picked it up. It was smooth and transparent, like glass. He¡¯d seen some before, but it was the first to be so smooth. He traced his thumb along the surface before walking forward once again, the rock jumping in his hand as he tossed it up and caught it again and again. For a short second, he almost regretted having necrotic as his mana type. Whenever he used magic, he had the power to destroy life, rotting it away into nothingness. Trees like the ones around him would be reduced to rotten dust with a wave of the staff in his left hand. He looked at it, a long rod just a foot shorter than he was. It was made out of grey Rotwood, the same trees in the forest of undead he was leaving behind. He shook his head. His power was his to command, his to create; nothing would crumble by his hands without him wishing for it to be so. He was a necromancer, not a cursed child. His magic was his to control. He caught the rock another time, grasping it tight in his hand as he looked at its clear surface. He looked around and found himself in a sort of clearing, the pale moonlight was being reflected off the stone, giving it a beautiful silver radiance. Sighing, Alen smiled. It wasn¡¯t like him to get so sentimental. This place was really trying its hardest to get his smile off his face, with all the problems it was tossing at him. Alen decided to sit down where he was, hugging his knees with his arms and rocking back and forth as he stared at the sky above. The two moons in the sky stared down at him with their gentle glow, starlight shining down on his smiling face. ¡°That¡¯s more like it,¡± He told himself. ¡°Why bitch when there¡¯s nothing to bitch about?¡± Laughing, he took out his waterskin and took a drink. It was sweet, and tasted of fruit. The scent filled his nose even after it was in his mouth. It was the fruit juice his elven friend had bought him after they woke up in an infirmary. He¡¯d spent a pretty absurd amount to fill two waterskins with just juice, but the cold drink sliding down his throat told him that it was worth it. He heard a rustle behind him and looked back to find Eilynn pushing away a branch to enter the clearing. She smiled at him. ¡°Hey,¡± She said. ¡°Yo,¡± He replied. ¡°Speak of the devil. Well, think of the devil.¡± The elf sat down beside him and gave him a look. ¡°What are you doing outside brooding at this ungodly hour?¡± ¡°Aren¡¯t ungodly hours the best time to brood? And nah, it left as quickly as it came. I¡¯m just enjoying the view at this point,¡± He took another sip and felt a nudge on his shoulder. Understanding, he held out the waterskin full of juice to his right. Lynn took it from him and drank some as well. ¡°And here I thought it was alcohol,¡± She shook her head in mock disappointment. ¡°You obviously don¡¯t know that fruit juice is a horrible drink when brooding. It makes you conflicted and all with the sweet taste.¡± Alen pointed at himself. ¡°Do I look like I¡¯m brooding?¡± ¡°Well, you did say you practiced looking like you weren¡¯t,¡± She replied. ¡°You understood that? Whoa. You actually possess at least an actual decent amount of emotional intelligence. Hats off to you.¡± ¡°Oh shut up,¡± Lynn shook her head. He looked at her. ¡°How did you find me anyways? I don¡¯t know if restraining orders exist here, but I¡¯ll have to file one against you if you¡¯re stalking me.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t flatter yourself,¡± She laughed. ¡°I was about to go to sleep on a tree when you passed by below me. Figured I¡¯d check out what you were doing.¡± ¡°You know, that¡¯s essentially stalking.¡± ¡°It isn¡¯t.¡± Alen looked back up at the sky above him before removing the earpiece in his left ear. He held it out to her. ¡°Here, plug this in your left ear.¡± She took it and examined it curiously. ¡°What is this?¡± ¡°They¡¯re called earphones. I¡¯m listening to music through them,¡± He said. ¡°Oh,¡± She grinned and put it into her ear, her eyes widening slightly. ¡°What kind of song is this?¡± ¡°It¡¯s an acoustic song. Speaking of which, do you have guitars here?¡± Eilynn paused. ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure they¡¯re sold here and there. They¡¯re uncommon though. Lutes are the more popular instrument at the moment.¡± ¡°That¡¯s awesome. I¡¯m getting one as soon as I can. Or you know, as soon as I have a place to put it.¡± ¡°You play?¡± Alen shrugged. ¡°A bit, yeah.¡± The wind blew and swept a chilly breeze over them as they talked. From above, something white began to flutter down towards the ground. Alen looked up and found that one of the moons had been covered by large gray clouds. All around them, snow began to fall, gently touching and caressing the grass under their feet. He was silent, only looking up at the sky in wonder. Lynn beside him was tapping her feet against the ground to the song when she stopped and looked up as well. ¡°It¡¯s your first time seeing snow, right?¡± She asked, pushing a strand of hair out of her face. ¡°Yeah,¡± He simply said, holding out his hand and catching a descending snowflake. ¡°Hey, play that song you were humming on top of the carriage this morning.¡± Alen gave her a look. ¡°You heard that? Can you like, stop stalking me please? It¡¯s pretty scary and it makes me feel like a vulnerable schoolgirl.¡± ¡°Everyone around the third carriage could hear it,¡± She said. ¡°I was inside the carriage when you started singing.¡± ¡°Fucking hell, your hearing¡¯s no joke with those ear flaps.¡± ¡°Whose ears are you calling flaps?¡± She elbowed him and laughed. ¡°Just play the song already.¡± ¡°Yeah, yeah. I got you,¡± Alen said, bringing out his phone and opening his playlist once again. She watched the device curiously, seeing him type letters onto the screen. Eventually, the music in her ears came to an abrupt stop, only to be replaced by the beating of drums and the strum of an electric guitar. She tilted her head, the music was strange, but not in a particularly bad way. The two lapsed into silence as the lyrics rang out within their ears. ¡®The world¡¯s a fucked up place, but it depends on how you see it.¡¯ ¡®Life is full of change, you grow up and then you feel it.¡¯ ¡®Smooth seas don¡¯t make good sailors, jump ship and head for failure.¡¯ ¡®Find yourself a tragedy, slowly lose your sanity¡­¡¯ He smiled, and just like that, beneath a starry sky full of twinkling lights and falling snow, Alen sat beside an elf past midnight to conclude his first month in another world.
Book 1 End. Illustrations Illustrations
Well, here are some illustrations. I had these in this fiction''s pre-rewrite and figured it was time to make some for the fiction yet again. A reader told me that he liked visualizing these characters himself in the past however (I think it was Dragrath), so I''ll be putting these in a spoiler tag for those who have images of the characters in their minds already and don''t want it to be ruined/overwritten by my anime-style depictions of them. Update 2: Updated the Alen illustration. He looks much more like the one of this re-write. Again, same warning as above applies. They may look different compared to your interpretations of them, so make sure to put that in mind when you view these. Illustration: Alen Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. Illustration: Lynn More recent, 03/18/2018: Illustration: Roland Book 2, Chapter 1: The Sandsea Book 2, Chapter 1: The Sandsea [Alen] The trip to the city went by without much hassle. Though the caravan was surprised at the sudden coming of an earthquake, the only setback was an injured horse that was lucky healed quite easily by a priest that one of the mercenary parties had brought along. Aside from that, it was a smooth week-long trip with little problems. Alen was honestly surprised there were no bandit attacks, but considering the amount of fellow caravans they were passing, he guessed their route was effectively a busy highway. No criminal would attempt a mugging on a busy street, he guessed. As the caravan approached the city¡¯s gates¡ªfar smaller than Dreanys¡¯s¡ªAlen let loose a sigh of relief. They didn¡¯t have much planned, really. The plan right now was to travel around the continent and see as much of it as possible. Lynn was driven by wanderlust and adventure, while Roland¡¯s reasons were complicated, at least according to him. Alen just shrugged it off and decided to ask no further. Roland would share when he wanted to. He walked up to the orange-haired warrior and glanced at the map in his hands. He was writing notes into a small journal, detailing the events of their trip. Alen stood beside him and spoke. ¡°So, you have any idea where to stop next? We¡¯re headed to the west, right?¡± Roland closed his journal and looked up at him with a sigh. ¡°Yes, and because of it, we¡¯ll have to cross the Sandsea.¡± ¡°The Sandsea?¡± Alen raised an eyebrow in question. The man in front of him pointed to an area in the map, a fairly large segment, about twice as large as the country they were currently in. ¡°This, is the Sandsea. It¡¯s a massive desert that separates the central human territories from the western ones. It¡¯s a mess of a place, unbearably hot and full of monsters and bandits. We¡¯ll have to plan our trip carefully if we plan to cross it.¡± ¡°Can¡¯t we just go around it?¡± ¡°If you want to extend a three month trip to over half a year, be my guest. You have friends to find, don¡¯t you?¡± Roland asked. Alen grimaced at the travel time. ¡°Ouch, yeah. That was a pretty retarded question. Is it really going to take that long though? This week¡¯s been tiring enough.¡± ¡°If everything goes well and we don¡¯t go on any detours, yes. It¡¯ll take that long,¡± Roland said, jutting down names in his little notebook. ¡°You told me you¡¯ve never had experience traveling long distances in this manner, but you¡¯ll have to get used to it eventually. Teleportation portals exist, but they cost a fortune we don¡¯t have. Even if I had the money on me, I wouldn¡¯t spend it on teleportation unless it was an incredibly urgent matter.¡± ¡°Fair enough,¡± Alen sighed. ¡°Well, I guess it¡¯s lucky I got a robe that¡¯s suited for both hot and cold climates,¡± He said, dusting his black mage robes. ¡°It is. You¡¯ve bought smartly. I¡¯ve sent a message to a blacksmith in the city we¡¯ll stop at near the Sandsea¡¯s borders and ordered myself some armor that doesn¡¯t absorb as much heat as iron and steel,¡± Roland said. ¡°Ordered? You ordered armor?¡± ¡°Well, yes.¡± Alen was a bit shocked at how modern that sentence sounded. Roland ordered some armor for pickup. How much money did this guy have to be able to do that? And from the looks of it, he wasn¡¯t even bothered by the price, which Alen seriously doubted was cheap. With a disbelieving look, Alen stopped bothering Roland from planning their route and headed to the marketplace. The pay they got for escorting that merchant was generous enough for Alen to not worry about basic things like food for a while, but he still needed to buy things like spices so they could cook actual decent food in their trip. He¡¯d had enough of barely seasoned meals over the last week, and he definitely wasn¡¯t bearing with it until they stopped at another town or village. Roland, Lynn, and Alen took turns cooking, and surprisingly, none of them were half bad cooks either. He spotted a clean-looking shop and was about to enter when he noticed three young men crowding¡ªrather, looming over the old man in the middle of the street in a threatening manner. Immediately, Alen frowned. Looks like clich¨¦s really would follow someone like him wherever he went. Alen started walking towards them to break it off when a young man that looked like a typical delinquent pushed the old man, knocking the frail bag of bones to the ground as he shouted at the old geezer. Alen didn¡¯t even hear what he was saying because his vision seemed to turn dark from seeing the sight. It was a medieval society alright. Even the elderly weren¡¯t spared from violence. He felt anger boiling inside his stomach. He hadn¡¯t seen his family in months and seeing that old man reminded him of his grandfather that he loved dearly. As the old man fell down, his own grandad¡¯s image seemed to superimpose into the old man on the ground. His steps quickened, his mana gathering in his hand as a dark expression covered his face. Alen touched the young man¡¯s shoulder and his mana surged. The boy around his age looked back in surprise, a frown on his face. ¡°What are yo¡ª¡° Alen watched his two friends back up in surprise as the young man¡¯s expression went slack, falling to the ground limply as Alen¡¯s magic swept through his body from the inside. He fell on his back, his eyes still wide open in surprise as he looked up at the sky, unmoving. His two friends froze, paling before bolting away from Alen as he looked down at the young man on the ground. The altered version of Numb Senses had taken effect. Alen grit his teeth. He really wanted to punch the fucker, but he was never the kind to get into those kinds of fights with other people. He¡¯d lose in a scrap, and he knew it. He stepped over the temporarily paralyzed body and offered his hand to the red-faced old man. He took Alen¡¯s hand and stood up with a grunt, huffing as he stared at the body below and spat on the ground. The old man paused for a moment before he looked at Alen and smiled warmly. After saying his thanks, he gave the young man that had helped him a hug. Alen smiled, remembering his grandparents that he would talk to and hug just like this back home. He clapped the old man¡¯s shoulder and spoke. ¡°You¡¯re welcome, sir. Please call out for help next time, because any normal person would be happy to give a hand.¡± The old man nodded and walked away, a spring in his aged steps. The necromancer watched him walk away and walked into the store, a warmth in his chest as he poured salt and spice into thin little sacks. Afterwards, he walked up to the counter, five little pouches in his hands. The middle aged man on the counter smiled at him. ¡°I saw what you did there outside. You¡¯re a magic user, right? I¡¯m glad to see the people with the power to help are using it,¡± The man said, weighing the pouches on a scale. ¡°Well, those fuckers deserved it. If I ever saw anyone doing that to my granddad, I¡¯d have done much worse,¡± Alen said, anger stirring in his chest at the mere thought of anyone hurting the old man that he¡¯d always walk home after school. The man nodded. ¡°You¡¯re a good lad,¡± He said, putting the pouches back onto the counter. ¡°These will be seventy copper. I¡¯d usually sell this much for a piece of silver, but consider it my thanks for that old man on the street.¡± Alen grinned and reached into his pocket to grab his coin purse.This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it. He felt air. He blinked, digging deeper into his pockets. Still nothing. Slowly, his thoughts were replaced by blankness. This lasted for a few seconds before his shoulders drooped, a ¡®dead¡¯ expression covering his face as he lethargically pushed the pouches of spice back towards the man who slowly came to an understanding. ¡°N¡­Nevermind,¡± Alen said, walking out of the store and despondently looking up at the sky. That old man had hugged him. Now his coin purse was gone. He looked at the still paralyzed young man on the ground and slowly understood. ¡°Fuck my life.¡± A mercenary, a man who looked to be forty with graying blonde hair, laughed as he clapped the shoulder of a young man with emerald green eyes. The expression of the boy was one of despondence and regret as he finished recounting the experience. ¡°It¡¯s alright,¡± The man reassured him. ¡°We mercenaries all end up experiencing things like these at some point. Take it as a learning experience to figure out a situation before acting.¡± ¡°That fucking ¡®learning experience¡¯ cost me a week¡¯s worth of pay from a caravan escort commission,¡± Alen sighed, biting into a fruit as he walked. ¡°Look on the bright side,¡± Lynn who was walking beside him laughed. ¡°At least that spice merchant found you outside and gave you the spices for free. I cooked a mean stew that night, didn¡¯t I?¡± ¡°It tasted bitter to me,¡± Alen said, deadpan. ¡°The water did too.¡± ¡°How did the air taste?¡± Roland in front of them added. ¡°Bitter.¡± The two other mercenaries around them burst into laughter, slapping Alen on the shoulder before walking off to move towards the other side of the carriage. Behind them trailed a group of travelers on saddled horses, small carts of belongings trailing behind them. This time, they managed to land an escort commission for a group of tourists headed towards the Sandsea. Naturally, the job would end as soon as they reached the town near the border, which wasn¡¯t very far away. After another three weeks of traveling and mana program refining, Alen finally managed to reduce Rotfire Bolt, Deathchill Touch, and the completed version of his improved Undead Empowerment¡ªNecrotic Blessing, to acceptable mana costs. The spells would no longer completely drain his mana pool after a few casts, and Alen decided to start creating new spell more thoughtfully from now on. Furthermore, their remaining travel time was apparently for less than half a day now, and that they were expected to arrive at the border-town just a few hours after lunch. Alen looked down at his feet that were covered in leather boots and grimaced. Over the trip, his feet had developed blisters that eventually transformed into calluses. Even now, his feet ached. He took out a tusk from his pocket and tossed it to the ground, summoning a skeletal Hunchback Lizard that he proceeded to mount. Roland told him that the Sandsea had a unique way of transportation, and that his lizards would be nigh obsolete as mounts in the sands, so Alen was doing his best to dwindle his supply of the lizard teeth he¡¯d painstakingly gathered over the past four weeks. He opened his bag and let Cuck out, the little skeletal chicken hopping onto his mount and riding it with him. He probably should¡¯ve gotten rid of the chicken a long time ago, but it had grown on him after it had saved them, and well, he¡¯d pretty much taken it as some sort of fucked up pet. He opened his status and noted that nothing much had changed. His mana gain had slowed after they started traveling, and it was now at a point where it was just a bit away from letting him pass his sixth threshold. He felt immensely satisfied with his spell list though. Nodding to himself, Alen pressed an icon and a blue screen popped into his vision.
Egg Chat Room
Bernard: i hate him so much. fucker¡¯s been sending me out left and right after I learned how to craft decent weapons and Anne¡¯s basically just been playing her lute all day. Anne: That, and being awesome with a hammer. We got ambushed by some thieves when we were traveling to this village and Bernard didn¡¯t even get the chance to use weapon float before I knocked them all out. Bernard: they were pretty damn weak. i¡¯m calling second or third threshold at most. Adam: seventh threshold boys Anne: Same. Alen: Fifth threshold main here. James: O hi. Anne: I love how he hasn¡¯t leveled up in nearly a month. What have you been doing dude? Alen: Dying off in the road to get to you fuckers. Also, James is in the western side as well, right? Why hasn¡¯t he joined you guys yet? James: Im traveling with my teacher and I dont want to spend a month going around the country yet. Ill be down as soon as I graduate from this apprenticeship though. Bernard: kek Adam: why can¡¯t team just pick up adam honestly. i¡¯m sick of seeing trees man, they¡¯re literally fucking everywhere and i haven¡¯t left this village since i got here Alen: Wha, elves are cool. Adam: i mean, they literally pray to trees and i¡¯ve been doing it lately too. i wana die Sam: I dunno man, I¡¯d worship me some good wood. Adam: Hickory? Sam: Oak. Adam: fuck you Bernard: all i want in life is James¡¯s wood Sam: Whoa man chill. Alen: Same. I just want James¡¯s bombs so he can blow me already. James: I hate you all.
The chatting continued for essentially the rest of the trip, with his friends conveniently taking time off at different intervals so he never ran out of people to talk to. They¡¯d reminisce and share old jokes, and Alen felt his homesickness go away by a good amount by talking to them. Eventually, the cold air that was present throughout the air for the last few weeks slowly disappeared, replaced by the increasingly hot glare of the sun. Alen turned off the chat as they entered the town. Usually, they¡¯d rest here for a bit, but Roland and Lynn immediately dragged him off as soon as they got paid. ¡°We¡¯ll take a break later. There¡¯s another town just a few more hours away,¡± Roland said, taking out a piece of paper from the payment that was just handed to him. Eilynn was walking ahead of them excitedly, a grin on her face as she impatiently ushered the forward faster. ¡°Come on, let¡¯s reach that town before night falls so we can all eat the Sandsea¡¯s specialty food!¡± She then looked forward, beaming as she continued. ¡°Alen, have you ever ridden a Galeboat?¡± ¡°A what? A gay boat?¡± ¡°No, no. A Galeboat. It¡¯s the Sandsea¡¯s main method of transportation and the main reason it got its name,¡± She said, anticipation on her face as they crossed the street and entered a building. Roland handed someone the slip and that person gave him a set of keys. Alen blinked. ¡°Sandsea. Galeboat. We¡¯re using a boat in the desert?¡± Roland smiled as he led them into the building¡¯s basement, revealing a large hangar-looking room with small, lightweight boats docked all around. They looked like canoes, but with large furled sails and a steering wheel surrounded by levers attached to it. Lynn pulled Alen to the seats at the front as Roland sat down in front of the wheel behind them. ¡°What are you doing? Why are we boarding the boat inside the hangar?¡± ¡°You¡¯ll see,¡± Roland said, inserting the keys into a keyhole before turning. Behind them, the ropes keeping the ship suspended slightly off the ground were slowly loosening. Unbeknownst to Alen, the floor under them was slowly opening up like a trap door as well. Lynn gingerly put on a seatbelt and Alen decided to do the same. He didn¡¯t have a good feeling about this with how vague they were being, but seatbelts equaled safety, which he guessed he would probably be needing soon. Alen looked at the two of them skeptically and spoke. ¡°So uh, what are we doing? Where¡¯s the Sandse¡ª!!!¡± Suddenly, the boat plunged downwards, making Alen feel as if he was suddenly riding a rollercoaster as the hangar suddenly disappeared from sight. Wind buffeted his face for a quick moment, before the boat seemed to land on something soft. Instantly, Alen¡¯s stomach lurched as the boat began to descend in a slope an instant later. He heard Lynn beside him cheering as he widened his squinted eyes at the scene displayed before him. A desert expanded out as far as the eye could see, powerful winds buffeting his ears as the boat glided down the immensely tall sand dune that the hangar had been hanging above. Around them, boats similar to theirs swam over the glimmering shine of the sand below them as the sun shone on their majestic white sails. Rock formations he¡¯d only see in in pictures dotted the horizon, the world darkening for a moment as their boat that was being piloted by Roland passed under an archway of natural stone paved by the heat and wind of the desert. A childish grin of amazement slowly replaced the shock on his face. Suddenly, he heard laughter and realized it was his own as the boat lurched to the side and turned. Lynn beside him was giggling out of her mind from excitement while Roland cheered behind the wheel as he spread the sails open even wider in their descent. Screams left all three of their mouths as the Galeboat suddenly shot past a slight slope and flew into the air, the massive sails bringing them forward faster as Roland pulled at a lever beside him. The sides of the boat immediately extended outwards to reveal what looked to be cloth and wood that surrounded the boat and acted like wings as their descent slowed. The boat glided through the air for a good three seconds before hitting the ground again, laughter ringing out from its passengers as it continued forward, gliding between two spires of massive rock. Alen felt his heart beating against his chest, the smile on his face wider than any smile he¡¯d ever displayed before as the boat sailed through the glimmering sands. Once again, even after he had finally gotten used to it, Alen was reminded once again. This was a fantasy world. And this, this was the Sandsea. Book 2, Chapter 2: A Story to Tell Book 2, Chapter 2: A Story to Tell
[Alen] Within the desert region of the Talaria continent, the hot glare of the sun tore through the air to gleam down at the sands below. A boat, its massive white sails catching the powerful wind, seemed to slice through the desert as it moved forward at speeds as fast as, if not faster, than a horse in full gallop. On it, three people sat and talked idly. One was piloting the Galeboat, maneuvering it around a large rock and entering a canyon as his two companions idly chewed on preserved jerky. ¡°Hey Lynn,¡± One of them, a young man with black hair covered in white streaks, nudged a white haired elf¡¯s arm with his elbow. ¡°Make some ice with your magic so we can drink actual decent water.¡± The elf held a piece of jerky in her mouth as she created a large piece of ice in one of her hands and held it out to her companion. The young man took it and bashed it against the side of the boat, breaking it into smaller pieces and tossing some into his mouth. The rest of the ice then slipped into his waterskin, which the elf immediately took. She took a drink and held it up to the elevated pilot¡¯s seat behind them. ¡°You want some too, Roland?¡± The orange-haired warrior covered in iron armor wiped the sweat from his forehead with his forearm and took the leather skin, drinking a large gulp and pouring some over his face before handing it back to the emerald-eyed young man. ¡°Yo, why the fuck are you still wearing that armor man? We can¡¯t have you dying of heatstroke, Roland. I don¡¯t know how to pilot this thing, and we both know Lynn¡¯s utter crap at it,¡± Alen said, offering the warrior some jerky. ¡°I nearly crashed the boat one time,¡± The elf complained. ¡°I didn¡¯t even crash it, too. So we can all pretend it never happened and let me back on the wheel, right?¡± Roland gently turned the steering wheel, the boat sliding around a rock to make a turn towards the canyon¡¯s right fork. ¡°I¡¯d rather not,¡± He said. ¡°I¡¯m picking up that armor I ordered in the town we¡¯ll be arriving at in a few hours. Lynn, directions?¡± She spread open a map in front of her, tilting her head as she traced the route with her eyes. ¡°Um¡­ Follow the canyon¡¯s right side, and after we leave the canyon, head northwest until we see Saint¡¯s Rock. From there, it¡¯s just straight west.¡± The warrior nodded and said nothing more. Alen looked up the canyon and squinted at the glare of the sun as he admired the blue sky. He was in a good mood after they set off, the desert landscape giving him a sense of wonder as the hot winds blew against his face in their trip. He was surprised he wasn¡¯t getting sunburnt actually. Alen guessed it was probably because of the small increases he¡¯d get to his stats like Vitality, Constitution, and Resilience every threshold that prevented his face from being cooked to a sore red mess. Alen looked back down just in time to see the sand in front of their boat unexpectedly rise up. Suddenly, his world spun as he heard Roland curse from behind them. The boat spun, the reinforced wood at the side screeching against the canyon wall as they settled to a grinding halt as Roland pulled a lever that furled the sails. His vision was rattled, and he could vaguely see Lynn take off her seatbelt and jump up from her seat, gripping her Waterwood Bow and taking it with her as she grasped the side of the canyon wall, climbing into a natural rock platform that protruded out from the wall slightly above them. Alen felt a hand grasp his arm and pull him out of his seat, throwing him to the side as a loud bang echoed out from behind him. He rolled and looked up to see Roland¡¯s shield shine a bright gray as a giant sand-colored beetle rammed against it. Roland¡¯s arm let out a slight cracking sound as he stood his ground, defending the Galeboat from the beetle¡¯s attack. He groaned as his face turned red from the pain. Gritting his teeth, Roland slashed at the beetle with the enchanted sword on his back, the metal shrieking against its tough exoskeleton and leaving cracks in its glowing wake. An arrow descended from above, unexpectedly sinking into the beetle¡¯s shell like water to engrave a glowing blue rune on its side. Alen scrambled up and threw a large tooth to the ground, summoning a large skeleton gorilla that he climbed onto. The ape sprinted as black mana covered its bones, its skeletal fists beginning to release black smoke as terrifyingly cold black ice crept into its hands. It let loose a punch, nearly throwing Alen off its back as Lynn chanted something from above him. Simultaneously, the punch landed on the beetle¡¯s face with a massive bang as the shining rune on its side glowed a bright blue and suddenly exploded, sending freezing cold outwards as the beetle was blown away. The gorilla was hit by the explosion, but it was far away enough that its thick, reinforced bones absorbed most of the impact as it took a step back. Alen grunted and pointed his palm at the beetle, increasing the mana output of Rotfire Bolt to take a whole fifteen percent of his mana to compensate for his lack of a staff. Black flames exploded out from his hand, replacing the cold in the air with the sinister, devouring feeling of decay. It raced towards the beetle that slammed against the canyon wall, letting out a boom as the flames battered its thick chitin. Alen got down from the gorilla, summoning two skeleton wolves as he sent it in, Necrotic Blessing buffing it by disgusting amounts as it leaped and slammed its two fists into the mess of flames and smoke beside the canyon wall. A miserable screech rang out along with snapping sounds as the beetle¡¯s head was cracked open by the impact and decay of the modified Deathchill Touch that covered the gorilla¡¯s arm, combined with the cracks Roland¡¯s sword had previously left behind. Silence covered the canyon for a moment, but Roland¡¯s voice suddenly rang out urgently. ¡°Alen, Lynn, get on the boat now!¡± He jumped on the pilot¡¯s seat, wincing as he drank a sort of health potion and felt his bones snapping back into place. Lynn jumped down and landed on her seat, and Alen didn¡¯t dare delay further as he ran and scrambled into his. Immediately, a boom rang out, causing Alen to snap his head towards the corpse of the giant beetle. Innumerable amounts of smaller scarabs poured out of the beetle¡¯s wounds, covering his gorilla that desperately fought back and punched at the horde of insects. Roland cursed, pulling the lever to fully spread open the sails, and pulling another to open up wing-like sails from the side of the boat. With a groan, their vehicle began to gain speed as it passed the corpse of the beetle. Alen watched as his gorilla was slowly chewed and broken apart. He lost his connection and paled, casting Necrotic Blessing on his two bone wolves and sending it at the horde as their boat sped away. Lynn stood up on her seat to look behind them as well, watching as the two wolves did little to stop the insects¡¯ advance. What looked like a small sea of bugs poured out of the ghoulbear-sized beetle, some even taking flight to follow their vehicle. Lynn paled and started shooting arrows at the horde with a terrified expression. Explosions of ice rocked the sands behind them as the scarabs were slowed down. Alen looked at it and felt a chill run down his spine, as if bugs were already crawling all over his body. He grabbed his staff from the seat and pointed it at the sky, sweeping it in an arc as he released another massive Rotfire Bolt. Instead of a bolt however, the spell coalesced into a crescent moon shape that crashed into the cloud of flying scarabs with a loud boom, causing tiny crumpling sounds to ring out along with high-pitched screeches. Alen covered his ears, gritting his teeth at the sound that was akin to nails on a blackboard. Roland looked at them and shouted, pointing at the elf. ¡°Lynn, take the wheel!¡± ¡°Are you retarded!?¡± Alen couldn¡¯t help but blurt out. Lynn was a horrible driver, the kind on the road to try and overtake a car and suddenly slow down just afterwards as if begging for an accident. The elf vaulted over the raised platform and took the wheel as Roland took out a metal disc from under his gauntlet, tracing his finger over its surface as it began to glow brightly. Alen sent another spell at the scarabs in the sky to slow them down, nearly being thrown off the Galeboat as Lynn was surprised by a rock and suddenly swerved to avoid it. The scarabs on the ground, however, were beginning to catch up because Eilynn was no longer able to send her arrows towards them. Alen was about to grit his teeth and spend a large amount of mana to obstruct both beetles when Roland abruptly stood up and spun, a shining blur leaving his hands and hitting a part of the canyon wall. With a series of rumbling booms, the disc he enchanted with a disgustingly high amount of shockwave runes caused a large part of the cliffside to crumble, triggering an avalanche of rocks and dust to rain down on the scarabs below. The dust covered the canyon, obstructing vision as Roland yanked the wheel from Lynn¡¯s control and abruptly turned, sending them into a path on the left side of the canyon instead of the right. The flying scarabs were thrown off and kept going to the right as they sped away, disappearing from sight through the blurry clouds of dust. Alen fell to his seat in a slump, a relieved sigh leaving his mouth as Lynn similarly slumped down on the seat beside him with a sigh of her own. Roland wiped the cold sweat on his brow and retracted the extra sails on the side of the boat, slowing down their speed to a reasonable amount. The three felt the hot wind beat against their faces as they traveled. The route they took was different from planned, so they would have to spend a lot more time traveling to the next town. Roland estimated their arrival time to be a little past midnight, which caused his expression to darken. Then, a voice rang out. ¡°Well,¡± Alen said. ¡°That was¡­ fun.¡± The orange-haired warrior behind him steered the boat, shaking his head and smiling lightly. ¡°Enough to cause a fracture on my ulna.¡± ¡°I passed my sixth threshold at least,¡± Alen drank some of the still slightly cool water on his waterskin. He handed it to Lynn who looked at him gratefully before he gazed back at Roland. ¡°How strong was that beetle anyways?¡± ¡°Those ones are usually as strong as someone from the sixth or seventh threshold. I¡¯m surprised we managed to kill it so easily actually. Our spells were especially effective against it.¡± ¡°I mean, we did get a lot stronger. We should be at our seventh thresholds at least by now. How about those little bugs? They gave me a fuck-ton of XP as well.¡± Roland stared grimly behind them. ¡°Those can go from as strong as the first threshold, to the third each. It¡¯s a good thing we retreated in time or we would¡¯ve been torn apart.¡± Lynn shuddered and handed the waterskin back to Alen. ¡°Are those common in the Sandsea?¡± ¡°Very. A lot more kinds of monsters too. Some weaker, most¡­ stronger.¡± Alen leaned against the seat and looked up at the darkening sky above. ¡°What time do you think we¡¯ll get to that town you were talking about?¡± Roland sighed. ¡°Best case scenario, we get there by midnight.¡± Lynn hugged her bag to her chest and closed her eyes. ¡°How do you know so much about the Sandsea, Roland? I¡¯m pretty sure you don¡¯t spend as much time as Alen in the library.¡±You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version. ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure he doesn¡¯t go there at all,¡± Alen said. ¡°How do you know so much about this place? Draenys¡¯s library didn¡¯t have detailed books about this desert. Most I got was the occasional mention.¡± Roland hesitated, before speaking slowly. ¡°My father took me through here when I was younger. Rather, it¡¯s the reason I ended up in the country where I met you two. Truth be told, I¡¯m supposed to be past my twelfth threshold by now, but I paid to have the mana in my body drained so I could start over.¡± ¡°Why?¡± Lynn asked. ¡°I came from a family full of warriors, and I¡¯ve been heading the path of a normal swordsman since childhood, but I fell in love with Enchanting magic when I turned eighteen. I decided to start over from the first threshold just so my attributes were perfect for the path of a spellsword,¡± He said, not a trace of regret in his voice as he talked about his past. Alen was silent for a long time, before he nodded. It explained why Roland was still at their level even after being twenty-four years old, and his experience with using a sword and shield that was nothing like Alen¡¯s haphazard spell tossing and Lynn¡¯s somewhat amateurish use of her bow and magic in combat. She was getting better apparently, but Roland told him that she was terribly inexperienced in fighting actual enemies when they¡¯d first met; like she was still relaxedly hunting game in the snowy woods of her homeland. Well, at least it looked like Roland didn¡¯t regret a single bit of his decisions, even with the edge in his voice after he mentioned his father taking him through the desert. Alen admired him a little for that. Glancing at the darkening sky and Lynn who was intending to doze off, Alen opened up his status screen.
Status:
Name: Alen Race: Human Type: Necrotic
Health: 100% Stamina: 78% Mana: 53%
Strength: 14 Dexterity: 14 Agility: 13
Constitution: 15 Vitality: 15 Resistance: 13
Intelligence: 22 (+) Wisdom: 29 (+++) Control: 28 (++)
Skills:
Mana Programming, Dominate Undead, Blightbolt, Necrotic Blessing, Numb Senses, Summon Skeletal Minion, Rotfire Bolt, Deathchill Touch
Alen nodded at the increases, before deciding to set Control as his lowest priority, setting Intelligence as the second highest, while keeping Wisdom at the top. Right now, he didn¡¯t really need to have a horde of undead out at all times, so he figured increasing the power of his spells and his overall mana pool would be better for his current situation. Then, he gazed at his spells. Necrotic Blessing was awesome. Even stronger than he thought. It seemed that putting in Deathchill Touch also increased the quality of his little steroid, giving his undead not only a status effect on their attacks, but increasing their strength and speed by a good margin as well. Alen probably had the system to thank for that. Even though each minute of active time cost a bit more than two percent of his mana now, it was worth the cost with how much it improved his undead. Now, he needed to improve them further. Minion-based spells were what he needed. Right now, instead of a full-fledged necromancer, he was more like a warlock that had some skill with summoning the dead. He needed to change that. Alen thought of creating Corpse Explosion, a staple of the necromancer class, but he realized it wouldn¡¯t be very useful when cast on skeletons. To make full use of that spell, he needed zombies, which he didn¡¯t have, nor intended to raise any time soon as the concept for the spell was only just beginning to form in his head. That, along with his strong dislike for the smelly motherfuckers, caused him to rule that spell out. That didn¡¯t mean he couldn¡¯t make a variant though. He grinned and remembered the spell he¡¯d drawn on the dirt a few weeks ago. He¡¯d slowly improved that bone-shaping skill, and it was just a few steps away from being a completed program. An idea popped into his head, and Alen knew at that moment that finishing this spell would be the key to improving his capabilities as a pseudo self-proclaimed master of the dead. He got to work, programming little nuances in the program and increasing the quality with little regard for mana cost. He¡¯d refine it later, because as long as the mana cost was at a maximum of fifty percent, he could compress it to a more manageable level with his current understanding of his created spell system. First, he assigned multiple variables to different kinds of body parts, taking advantage of the knowledge he¡¯d gained from examining the purple strands for so long. Next, Alen took the growth properties of the rib, and cut it out, putting it into a separate variable. He slowly changed the little variables within the rib¡¯s growth pattern, increasing density, removing the curve, making it sharper, and creating a path for his mana to channel Necrotic Blessing through it. He grabbed a bone shard from his pack, shards he¡¯d been collecting for experiments, and pointed it at the desert to the side. His experimental program flowed into the bone, accompanied by a large surge of his mana that shaved off an entire twenty-two percent from his mana pool. The bone began to tremble violently, before exploding into growth, shooting outwards at a speed his eyes couldn¡¯t follow. A pillar of dust rose into the air seven meters away as the lance of bone matter dug deep into the golden sands. The boat lurched, and Alen was nearly thrown into Lynn from the recoil, and Roland¡¯s sudden yank at the wheel. He let go of the bone and the boat left it behind, still impaled into the ground. The warrior behind him glared at Alen. ¡°I know your experiments are especially flashy, but will throwing a warning my way hurt? By the gods, I thought we were getting attacked by an undead Sandleech.¡± Alen grimaced. ¡°Sorry,¡± He said. ¡°I set the growth variable to a value that was too high. There¡¯ll be more, but it shouldn¡¯t be as rape-y as this one.¡± Roland grunted indignantly and steered the Galeboat with one hand, the other holding down a map by his side as he traced the route with his finger. Alen saw this and let out a breath, that had surprised him too. Right now, after studying the strand for so long, he was finally able to copy and paste parts of it into a program, creating bone-shaping effects. Unfortunately, he still couldn¡¯t figure out how to do the same with the orange and cyan strands, which represented muscle memory and mental capacity. It honestly left him baffled. Every time he examined them, it was like his body was going through the motions, as if he was living in the memory that strand had captured. How the fuck was he supposed to convert that into a program? A variable? It was like trying to write a descriptive essay about the color red. He couldn¡¯t describe it in any other way, because red, in itself, was what it was. He couldn¡¯t divide it into pieces, into bricks and concrete, no. It was a whole, like a castle carved into a mountain. His only options were to observe and attempt to carve one himself, which he had no idea how to do, or to simply destroy. Alen guessed it was the nature of his whole system. It wasn¡¯t like constructing a building from multiple parts and procedures like Mana Programming. It was like molding clay into a pot. Smooth, continuous, no room for mistakes, and with the requirement of extensive control and manipulation; something he¡¯d tried, and failed miserably at during his first week in Talaria. With a sigh, he went back to programming. What he needed to figure out now, was a way to meld this bone-shaping spell into his control over his skeletons. Maybe he could try sending the program over as a command through the string of mana that linked him to his skeletons? Alen grinned and got to work, summoning a bone chicken onto his lap as he once again began to experiment. He just had to be extra careful not to impale himself while experimenting. That wouldn¡¯t go very well in his opinion. Roland steered the boat behind a large spire of red rock, one of the many that protruded out of the desert sands. He pulled a lever and retracted the sails, shivering as the extremely cold air of the desert night descended. It was even colder than the air when it was snowing in the areas near Draenys. He pulled on his fur cloak and took a drink. He pulled a thick quilt from his bag and gently draped it over Alen and Eilynn¡¯s bodies in the front seats, securing it under the seatbelts. The two had both fallen asleep, but he was pretty glad for it, as their necromancer¡¯s experiments weren¡¯t good for the heart, especially in a desert full of monsters that could threaten their lives. He sat on a rock and continued to drink from his flask as he rested, taking gulps from the alcohol he¡¯d bought two towns ago. The stars were especially dazzling in the desert, with the lack of clouds and trees exposing all patterns and constellations to the world below. Roland glanced at the two on the boat and shook his head. He was five years older than the elf, and six years older than Alen. After spending so much time with them, he was reminded of his siblings back home. With another swig, he lapsed into thought. Saryn was talented in their family¡¯s arts. Did she master the fifth set of movements yet? Deil wasn¡¯t the best at comprehending the forms the fastest, but he comprehended them the best. Would Roland¡¯s first form lose to his? With a sigh, he took another gulp. He missed his siblings, all twelve of them, both older and younger, but he didn¡¯t have a choice. Back then, it was either them, or his path as a spellsword out to see the world. He¡¯d chosen the latter. He gazed towards the west. They were headed there. Through the Sandsea, once again, seven years later. Would he run into them while they journeyed around the west? He doubted his siblings would recognize him anymore, with the beard he¡¯d grown and the changes to his demeanor. Perhaps that was for the best. It would give him a chance to talk to them without interruption, without seeing the confused, slightly pitying looks on their faces as they looked at the lamb that had strayed from the herd. Roland took a piece of rock and carved a rune into it. It was the first rune he¡¯d learned; the Memory Rune. He something flow from his chest, to his arms, then into the rune. With another pulse of his mana, he activated it. In front of him, a hazy cloud began to form, displaying a young man with short cut orange hair sparring with three people at the same time with a stern look on his face. Two people watched from the side, a man he recognized as his father, and another as his eldest brother. More of his family members were in the area, sparring, resting, and playing. With a quick maneuver¡ªone much, much faster than the current Roland, the young man in the image countered a strike and planted his wooden sword into the shoulder of a boy four years younger than himself. Then, his body twisted to avoid a diagonal slash, the blade in his hands lashing out like a snake to jab at the attacking girl¡¯s leg. She fell, and with a loud thunk, the pommel of the wooden sword hit the back of her head, knocking her down. Finally, the final attacker, a boy older than both of the other two, swung his sword and was parried, but unexpectedly used the force of the parry to do a cartwheel and send a windmill kick onto the orange-haired young man¡¯s sword. With a snort, the young man twisted his blade and swept it to the side, pushing the kick away perfectly and causing the young man to fall out of balance. An instant later, the loud sound of wood against flesh rang out as the wooden sword was smashed into his chest. Roland looked down at him and spoke coldly, his words seeming to point at the future him who was watching the memory from a rune carved into a stone. ¡°Kicks are a useless move in combat. There is only the blade, and its wielder. Anything besides a shield is unnecessary and will only get you killed. Get rid of it or forget about winning against me in a spar.¡± With that, the boy stared as his orange-haired older brother turned and walked away, his grip on the hilt of his blade firm and steady. Even after the cold words, the boy only felt admiration towards that figure¡¯s back. That was his older brother; someone leagues above him in both skill and power. That was his older brother; Roland. A sigh rang out as the cloud dissipated, the images fading along with it as a downcast orange-haired man looked at the rock in front of him as the rune slowly faded away. It was funny, really. He¡¯d learned this rune to review his spars, to spot the flaws in his technique and refine them into the impenetrable defense that he had visualized. Who would have known that learning that simple little rune would end in this? Roland smiled bitterly, not at the path he had taken, but the one he had tread in the past. Maybe, if he¡¯d tried harder, he would¡¯ve convinced his family, change hundreds of years¡¯ worth of teachings to introduce a new way to fight; a way to wield blade and spell together, like the magic swordsmen of the continent to the north of theirs. His family¡¯s rigid, powerful techniques, and the elasticity and flexibility of magic. It would¡¯ve been an unbeatable combination. No, it would be an unbeatable combination. That¡¯s why he was here. Roland grinned devilishly. He wasn¡¯t done yet. He still had a lot to prove to that clan full of combat maniacs. But for that, he¡¯d need to get stronger. Much stronger than he currently was. Much, much stronger than what he was before. He started out as a breeze, but when the winds picked up, he would become the storm to knock down the doors of his clan. With a resolute smile on his face, Roland stood up and walked towards the Galeboat, a renewed confidence in his steps as the white sails unfurled and brought them forward. Under the stars, a single boat sliced through a glistening sea of sand. On it, two people slept, and one drank from a flask as he piloted the boat ever onwards. What the future held for them, no one knew, but one thing was for sure. It would be a story worth telling. Book 2, Chapter 3: The Cavatal Book 2, Chapter 3: The Cava''tal
[Alen] A young man with black hair covered in white streaks sat by a table beside the window. Unlike his usual attire of leather armor over his black robe, he was wearing a more casual outfit of a white tunic over brown pants. Beside him was an elf wearing something like a peach-colored sweater, and in front of them sat an orange-haired young man wearing a comfortable looking loose button shirt. They talked idly, waiting for their food as waiters and waitresses busied about around them. ¡°See, you guys don¡¯t understand. That waiter over there has objectively the best ass. Gender plays no role, Roland, this is a purely objective evaluation of an individual¡¯s level glute-related attributes,¡± Alen defiantly said, pointing at a waiter that was giving their table a weird look. Roland shook his head. ¡°I still stand by my point. Isn¡¯t it a little, well, gay to be pointing at another man¡¯s ass in public and calling it nice? Look at that waitress instead. In what way does she lose to that guy?¡± The necromancer in front of him scoffed. ¡°It isn¡¯t gay, Roland. I¡¯m purely heterosexual. I¡¯m just saying that man right there has an ass better than the waitresses he works with,¡± His scrutinizing gaze followed Roland¡¯s finger and scanned a waitress from far away, who was currently paying them no attention as she took another customer¡¯s order. He shook his head disappointedly. ¡°It isn¡¯t mere size that determines quality, Roland. Does that thing look firm? Does it have a perfect curvature? I don¡¯t think so. It¡¯ll sag Roland. It will flop.¡± ¡°Can we stop harassing the staff now?¡± Lynn laughed, then pointed her finger at a man who just entered the restaurant. ¡°Anyways, I win, because he has the best ass.¡± The two people sharing the table decided to look and lapsed into silence as they stared at the man. His pants were especially tight and made of smooth, black leather. It hugged his entire lower body like a vice. There was a weird sway to his hips when he walked that caused Roland¡¯s eye to twitch as he pulled his eyes away and looked at the two in front of him pleadingly. ¡°Can we just stop this now?¡± ¡°Roland, just say it. That man right there, no matter how suggestively gay his hip movements are, has a nice ass,¡± Alen said. ¡°You should consider buying those pants, Roland. They¡¯d suit you,¡± Lynn added. ¡°No,¡± The warrior said flatly. ¡°Filthy homophobe,¡± Alen spat. The three of them looked to the side and upon seeing the slightly horrified look of the waiter who was holding their food in front of them, Alen and Lynn burst into laughter as Roland sunk lower into his seat. ¡°I don¡¯t know these two,¡± He said quite tiredly. ¡°Please don¡¯t give me that look.¡± The waiter hurriedly set down their food and left, paying no mind to what Roland said and taking a detour around the restaurant so that they didn¡¯t have a clear view of his behind. Roland sighed and dug into his meal, a lobster-looking creature with meat the texture of string cheese. ¡°I don¡¯t think I can show my face in this restaurant again,¡± He muttered. ¡°I understand, Roland. You¡¯re still confused,¡± Alen nodded understandingly. ¡°Not all of us are comfortable enough with our sexualities to the point of liberated speech. I get it.¡± Lynn saw the chance and took it, nodding seriously and looking the warrior straight in the eye. ¡°If it makes you feel better, I think your ass ranks as high as that barmaid over there. Be proud, Roland.¡± Roland gave the two of them a look. Was this what monsters felt when they were being attacked by all three of them? And why did he feel like Lynn was getting worse by the day? He shuddered and looked at Alen. ¡°Spare me the experience of hearing you call my ass nice please,¡± He said. Alen frowned. ¡°What? Ew. Your ass is fucking flaccid because of your armor. It¡¯s like beating a tomato against a sheet of metal. Rather, it¡¯s exactly like it. Lynn has skewed standards because elves have good asses by default. A book in the library even said so. It¡¯s like that thing where you¡¯re so used to seeing good shit that the bad stuff has its own appeal, you know?¡± ¡°Aw, thanks,¡± Lynn laughed, taking a bite off her meal. Roland shook his head. ¡°I¡¯m not even going to ask about the kind of stuff you read about in the library, or what kind of author would put that line in his book.¡± The necromancer nodded. ¡°You¡¯re right, that is a good idea,¡± He said. ¡°I want to meet that guy actually. He seems to be well-versed in the ways of the world.¡± ¡°Definitely not the kind of ¡®ways¡¯ I want to learn.¡± From there, the banter only continued as the three of them enjoyed their first good meal in a week and a half. Roland¡¯s armor was set to be picked up right after lunch, so while he was getting things settled, Lynn decided to go and buy some materials for herself. Alen shrugged and tagged along. They paid for the meal and left, the relieved sighs of a single waiter ringing out from behind them as Roland headed into the opposite side of the town¡¯s market. The rest of the day was as eventful as going around and shopping for supplies. Which to say, was exactly what they did, and was frankly quite dull. After buying things like preserved food, water, spare clothing, and thank god¡ªtoiletries, Lynn went around browsing the two magic stores present in the town to look for some magic stones, which according to the books Alen read, were basically smooth rocks formed within area of the environment which had a high concentration of mana, produced artificially by magical infusion, or in rare cases, within the bodies of powerful monsters; acting as a sort of conduit for magic that made the monsters stronger in the same way that staves and other magical items like Lynn¡¯s Waterwood Bow improved a mage¡¯s magic and spellcasting. Apparently, she had a hard time creating arrows and casting magic from certain elements and planned on socketing the little stones into her bracer to compensate. It involved a lot of crap about creating the mana-equivalent of circuits, which she¡¯d ask Roland to help her with as his specialty was in close-combat fighting and Enchantment. Lynn herself was good at Evocation, bits of Conjuration, and she apparently wanted to learn Mental magic as well. The whole thing did cost a lot though. Alen watched large amounts of silver coins leaving Lynn¡¯s pockets to buy magic stones in a quality that he identified as somewhere between ¡®pretty meh¡¯ and ¡®somewhat above meh¡¯. He figured that the things were expensive due to their versatility, but he was kind of surprised at seeing their actual prices, even after reading about how pricey they were in general within Draenys¡¯s Public Library. Most staves would have a magic stone inside of them, but Alen¡¯s staff was an exception, as the wood itself acted in the same way that a magic stone would. If course, it was only for magic that had a good relationship with necrotic mana. If he tried casting just the variant of the bone-regenerating spell through his staff without spinning his necrotic mana into the mix, it would be making use of a purely life-oriented mana type, which would not only cost him more mana, but could also cause a violent reaction within the staff. Mana was like water, and mana types flavored versions of it. The mana within his body was pure and could be flavored according to his wishes, but it could be said that while he had a price discount towards the ¡®necrotic¡¯ flavor, his budget wouldn¡¯t hold up if he tried to buy different types of flavors. Mana-Mix, essentially. And while his mana was like that, it didn¡¯t hold true for other materials, and sometimes, creatures. Trying to cast a conventional Restoration School spell through his staff was like trying to make juice come out of a coffee maker. Alen considered it for a moment. While his mana type was necrotic, he¡¯d read about weird, unconventional mana types as well. Rare things like Light, Sound, and surprisingly, Phantasmal mana types. So far, it seemed any kind of mana type could exist and could only be verified if someone with a certain affinity showed up with a new kind of flavoring. If that was the case, could he make his own type of Mana-Mix? If he created a new mana type, could it possibly override his affinity with Necrotic mana, or would it still be hard to use? There was so much to learn about, and so much to experiment with. He needed to¡ª A hand flashed into his vision, waving in front of his face. ¡°Alen?¡± He blinked, returning to reality as he looked at Lynn who was blocking his way and tilting her head at him. ¡°Are you okay? You almost bumped into a mother and her kid.¡± Alen looked at the mother and son pair that was now a good distance from them and lowered his head apologetically and their direction. Looking back at the elf, he shook his head and shrugged. ¡°I was just dying off in my head thinking about some random shit. Where are we headed next?¡± Eilynn tilted her head in thought. ¡°Um, we have... food, clothes, basic living essentials, and all of the things I needed to buy. I think we¡¯re done. Do you need to buy anything?¡± ¡°Hm, well, I guess it wouldn¡¯t hurt to buy a book I can read while we travel about. We can¡¯t always be relying on Roland to know about the Sandsea for us, and there¡¯s bound to be things he doesn¡¯t know,¡± Alen said, before nodding to himself. ¡°Yeah. Let¡¯s head to that bookstore we passed a while ago.¡± She grinned. ¡°Books are expensive, you know. You sure you have that kind of money? I¡¯d have to warn you that my interest rates are higher than the Commissions House¡¯s.¡± ¡°What. I¡¯m filthy rich. I¡¯ve been saving all the money I¡¯ve earned since Draenys.¡± ¡°Filthy rich minus the pay for that one caravan escort commission.¡± ¡°Fuck you, alright?¡± Alen laughed, pushing her along as they headed to the book store. As with most of the bad things that¡¯d happened to him, he¡¯d chosen to make that experience a joke as well, and it looked like his party member liked to poke fun at his misfortune as well. He didn¡¯t notice how much he¡¯d missed having a friend joke about his mistakes actually, which sounded weirder now that he¡¯d thought about it, but Alen just shrugged it off as they approached the small structure that was the bookstore. With most of the books in the human territories being handwritten, there wasn¡¯t much to see in the store. Just a few shelves¡¯ worth of writing, which really just went to show how great Draenys¡¯s library was. Lynn followed him inside as he browsed the shelves. ¡°What¡¯s a good book to get?¡± He asked. ¡°Hmm¡­¡± The elf crossed her arms and tilted her head before looking back at Alen in deadpan and shrugging. ¡°Dunno.¡± ¡°The Extensive Guide to a Sandswimmer¡¯s Mating Habits it is. It¡¯s a bit of a mouthful, but depending on anatomy, I¡¯d bet these Sandswimmers take a lot of those too,¡± Alen said, actually plucking a book from the shelf that had the exact title. Who the hell wrote these books? Lynn laughed and picked a book of her own. She surprisingly understood his jokes immediately, which slowly started to make his image of the elf in front of him more concrete. ¡°What about Gold-Scaled Snake Holes? Surprisingly enough, it¡¯s about a snake¡¯s hole.¡± The two of them laughed and joked a bit more until Alen finally chose a book about the region¡¯s danger zones, which had a somewhat detailed description of the Sandsea¡¯s monsters at the back. They continued to make fun of book titles as they turned from a shelf towards the counter, but their laughs were cut short with a thump as Alen bumped into someone who looked to be urgently moving out of the store, the speed of that person¡¯s movement knocking Alen and the book in his hand down.Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there. The person¡¯s features were indistinguishable from the clothes they wore, which covered their face with the exception of their sandy yellow eyes and the brass-colored scales that covered the skin around them. The unknown individual glanced at him coldly and left, a book clutched tightly to the figure¡¯s chest. ¡°Uh, sorry?¡± Alen called out, though it was a bit late, as the figure had already left the store. ¡°Here,¡± Lynn said, offering him a hand. Alen took it and stood up with a grunt. He really forgot how much stronger Lynn was compared to him. Her Strength stat was definitely higher than his, especially after passing her sixth threshold. She apparently didn¡¯t even set it as a priority stat either. ¡°Thanks,¡± Alen said, nodding at her and picking up his book from the ground. A few pages, the binding weakened by age, had fallen off completely. Alen was glad he was going to pay for this book anyways, so the damage was still something he could deal with. ¡°Who was that guy, anyways? He had scales on his face.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know. There are a lot of lizard races in the continent, but judging from the place we¡¯re in, he¡¯s probably part of the Ra¡¯tik or Cava¡¯tal,¡± She said. ¡°I¡¯m just going to go ahead and assume those are their races. Anyways, I thought you didn¡¯t know much about this place? What¡¯s with the obligatory information dump?¡± ¡°What? I read books too. And no, those aren¡¯t their races. Their society¡¯s a bit complicated, the only reason I know about it is because I had a few of them as friends back home,¡± She said simply. Alen pursed his lips and shrugged. ¡°Well, let¡¯s just go pay for this book I guess. Roland said we¡¯d leave tomorrow, so I wanna get in that inn for the last time and enjoy an actual bed as soon as possible.¡± Eilynn smiled. ¡°True, though I have to say that the Galeboat is plenty comfortable on its own.¡± The necromancer shook his head. ¡°For the past two months or so that I¡¯ve known you, I have not seen a single place you haven''t been able to fall asleep in. Is that one of the god-given gifts elves have as well?¡± ¡°Nope,¡± She grinned. ¡°It¡¯s god-given to me specifically.¡± She trailed beside him as Alen paid for the book. Eventually, after walking about the town idly, they reached the inn and retired to their rooms. Now that Alen could afford the luxury of staying at a decent in and actually paying for a room himself, he made sure to enjoy the soft bed thoroughly. Their rooms were adjacent to each other, and although the walls were thick, they could send voice messages through Lynn¡¯s chat anyways, so it could only be interpreted as an added plus to privacy. Alen opened up his book and began to read. Well, at least, he wanted to. He had to put the pages that had fallen off back in their proper places first. He spent a good ten minutes arranging about two dozen pages until he encountered something strange. It was a piece of paper, and it didn¡¯t belong to any part of the book. It was worn and seemed even older than the paper within the book he bought, and smelled of ash and smoke. He frowned as he read the few lines that were written on the crumpled and folded parchment. The Crawling Canyon, the mountain of shells, where the sun strikes the back of the God of the Eternal Sands and fails to shine upon the world he scorns in his final breath. Here, my children lie hidden; the fruit of my legacy the key to unlocking what I have never wished to find. 884 17 32 ¨C 784 92 9925 ¨C 11 32 68 32 1 884 17 ¨C 884 17 32 ¨C 784 32 1 ¡°Yup,¡± Alen recalled the lizard that bumped into him. ¡°Fucker dropped a treasure riddle.¡± He looked at it for a moment. The Crawling Canyon did not seem like a safe place. That lizard would probably come look for him tomorrow. If he spotted the lizard, he¡¯d return the map. He wasn¡¯t out to steal legacies like a pretentious con artist wearing a bashful smile, no. Alen was a good guy. Yes. And well, if the lizard didn¡¯t come find him¡­ He¡¯d just keep it and come back to check out whatever was there when he got stronger. After all, the thing would go to waste if he just kept it in his bag, and hey, that lizard looked like an ass anyways, so Alen wouldn¡¯t spare the effort of scouring the Sandsea just to give him back a piece of paper. Alen stored the paper safely behind his phone¡¯s plastic cover. If there was anything that he guaranteed would stay safe as long as he was alive, it would be his phone. The parchment would be safe there. With that settled, he assembled the rest of the pages and began to read. The words flowed like water. Outside, he heard his two companions talking and the sound of Roland similarly retiring to his room reached his ears, but he was too busy reading to pay any attention. The Maelstrom of Dust, the Valley of Ash, the outlaw city of Verana¡­ Finally, his eyes stopped at a certain location detailed within the book. The Crawling Canyon. Inside the pages, a paragraph summarized what the valley was, it read: ¡°There is a legend told within the Sandsea. A legend that the dunes of the desert were not carved by wind nor god, but the passage of a creature fabled to be older than the continent itself. Resting upon the back of an ancient centipede the size of Kaervis¡¯s notable thousand-kilometer mountain range Wyvern¡¯s Maw, the fittingly named Crawling Canyon is home to many beasts and monsters, which are predominantly insect types that fly out of the canyon on an annual basis to utterly decimate the surrounding area through a terrifying display of violence and gluttony. During this time, it is highly recommended for any traveler to steer clear of the location, which is difficult due to the incessant relocation of the centipede carrying the gigantic canyon. As for any towns or cities that the giant centipede Ortena nears within this time span¡­ flee. Flee, and pray to the gods that ruin does not fly your way.¡± Alen sat down on his bed, leaning on the wall as his eyes shined brightly. He let the description sink in. Within his mind, he saw a gargantuan centipede crawling through the Sandsea, avoided by travelers and Galeboats as it created entire valleys of sand in its horrible wake. Surrounding it was a cloud of insects, insects like the terrifying scarabs they had encountered just the day before. This black cloud would surround the centipede like a deathly mist, spelling doom to any who drew near. As dangerous as it sounded, Alen dreamed of one day standing in front of the giant centipede, an army of dead by his side as his friends looked up in challenge at the crawling impossibility before them. He grinned widely at the thought and closed the book, yawning as he stood up and stretched. Alen sat down on a table beside his bed and opened up his friends¡¯ chat room.
Egg Chat Room
Alen: You guys down to attack a giant centipede the size of James¡¯s dick with me in the future? Bernard: if its anything near as large as James¡¯s dick, count me in James: When the fuck are you guys going to stop talking about my dick. Bernard: shhhhh. Anne, what¡¯s the current length counter of James¡¯s dick? Anne: Sixteen thousand kilometers. It increases in length by a hundred kilometers with every mention, so make sure you add that in. Alen: Whoa, it increased by that much? It was just nine thousand meters before we got here. Adam: it got a two thousand kilometers bigger when James called a girl hot in chat and said he would smash. also, whats this about a centipede? James: you¡¯d think the dick jokes would die after we left junior high, but they¡¯ve only gotten worse. why am i friends with any of you again? Bernard: stfu James. we¡¯re only friends with you because of your dick size. don¡¯t try to rise above your station Alen: Well, James¡¯s throbbing sixteen thousand kilometer dick aside, the centipede¡¯s apparently the size of a thousand-kilometer mountain range, so that¡¯s something to look forward to. Bernard: just a thousand kilometers? how dare you compare it to James¡¯s dick, you filthy pagan Anne: I mean, when I get a bigger hammer to hit it with, I¡¯d be down. Sam: Whoa man, you mean the Wyvern¡¯s Maw? Alen: Yeah. Why? Sam: That¡¯s where I¡¯m at dude. I don¡¯t know where my team is tho. Adam: that¡¯s what i¡¯ve been saying, hello? team? wait. sam, are you down to meet up. Sam: Yeah man. Hmu. Anne: This is gay, honestly. Bernard: you realize this now? Adam: u realize this now? Bernard: ayyy Adam: AHAHAHA ayyy
They talked for a bit more, with Alen closing the chat room an hour later to go get some dinner downstairs. His stomach was growling, and it needed to be soothed with copious amounts of rice, meat, and juice. A stomach will not give ulcers to the human that feeds it, after all. The bottom part of the inn was busy, even after it being so late into the night. Not wanting to hang around such a huge crowd by himself, Alen got his food on a plate and retreated into his room. He started eating and sat on his bed. Just before he brought up his system-programmed notepad to start programming spells and messing around with magic, he heard a few knocks on the wall behind him. It was Lynn¡¯s room. He looked at the wall questioningly and opened up their voice chat. ¡°Alen?¡± A voice rang out in his mind. Even after using the voice chat a lot, it still felt weird to be hearing a voice directly inside his head instead of through his ears. He idly began to sketch on a piece of paper instead, absentmindedly drawing the beetle they had encountered just the day before. ¡°Yeah? What¡¯s happening?¡± He responded, darkening the lines around the beetle¡¯s horns. ¡°Not much. I¡¯ve been sitting in my room playing around with the magic stones I got, but I¡¯m taking a break.¡± ¡°Well, since we¡¯re idly talking anyways, how did you end up in Draenys in the first place? From what I recall, Snow Elves are more common in the south. Why¡¯d you come such a long way?¡± Alen asked, shading the beetle¡¯s beady black eyes and drawing a cloud of insects surrounding it using the flat of his pencil¡¯s lead. ¡°It¡¯s a long story,¡± He could almost see Lynn¡¯s smile through her voice. ¡°You wanna hear it?¡± ¡°Staying up late to talk to a girl? I can almost hear my older brother cheering for me,¡± he laughed to himself. ¡°Go right ahead.¡± ¡°That¡¯s right, take this chance Alen. It¡¯s not every day a stunning elf like me would want to talk to you voluntarily,¡± She coughed. ¡°Ahem. Anyways, let¡¯s start when I set out from my village.¡± ¡°I¡¯ve seen human men in tight leather pants with better asses honestly,¡± He grinned. It was great to have someone to talk to like this. ¡°Wait, you¡¯re nineteen now, so how old were you then?¡± ¡°Well, you¡¯re generally considered an adult in Talaria when you hit fifteen, so I was able to set out by seventeen years old.¡± ¡°Wait, then why are you still the same threshold as I am?¡± ¡°I set out with a group of merchants from my home town. They dropped me off around the border, and from there, I just earned money to travel to Draenys by tagging along to civilian transport caravans and acting as a herbalist,¡± She said. ¡°They earn a surprising lot, let me tell you. A whole seven silver a week. Not too bad.¡± ¡°I mean, I was earning ten silver a week in my second week here.¡± ¡°Hmph, it¡¯s Draenys. Employers are rich in Draenys, and your magic¡¯s a cheat in that forest.¡± Alen laughed. Fair enough. ¡°Well, what happened next?¡± ¡°I traveled around for about a month doing just that, but the group I was with was attacked by bandits when we passed a road that didn¡¯t receive regular patrols from the country¡¯s military.¡± ¡°Did you die in the attack?¡± She paused, then he heard her laugh. ¡°Yes. It was very scary, and because of the post-mortem trauma I gained, I now spend my days haunting lonely boys that spend their days reading and soaking in their anti-social tendencies.¡± ¡°I¡¯m not¡­ Fuck. Fine,¡± Alen shook his head. ¡°Let¡¯s just keep going. We have eight hours to burn ¡®til morning.¡± ¡°Oh my, you aren¡¯t letting me sleep?¡± He could hear the grin in her voice. He grinned back. ¡°Ghosts should be committed to their jobs. Sleep is for the weak.¡± Lynn laughed and continued. Like that, the two of them spent the night yawning and idly sharing stories, something Alen hadn¡¯t done since that time he slept over at Adam¡¯s house just before they were taken into this world. Meanwhile, in another part of the city¡­ Inside a dark warehouse, a group of people crowded over a lizard-man from the Ra¡¯tik tribe was being held by the neck, his feet suspended off the ground as he choked on the hand grasping his throat. In front of him was another lizard, one with crimson scales the color of blood that had an expression of unprecedented fury on his face. ¡°You lost it?¡± the lizard growled. ¡°You have the gall to come here and tell me you lost the inheritance my uncle left behind in your tribe?¡± ¡°I¡­It was stolen!¡± The brass-scaled lizard choked out, gasping for breath as the hand around his throat tightened its grip. ¡°Who? Who stole it?¡± The lizard man hissed. ¡°Tell me. Now! I hope you know what I¡¯ll do to you if lies are what¡¯s dripping from that tongue of yours. I¡¯ll make sure you lose it in a puddle of blood before my knife slashes through your fucking jugular!¡± ¡°It could only be that person that bumped into me at the pickup point! He was right there as I took the book the representative stored the letter in, and he still managed to pull it out of the pocket inside of the parchment and make it seem like it was one of the papers that fell around him! He was a master thief!¡± The lizard explained in a panic, trembling at the lack of oxygen his brain was receiving. ¡°Your tribe¡¯s branch in the Sandsea will no longer receive the protection of the Cava¡¯tal!¡± The crimson-scaled lizard threw him to the ground roughly, walking away as the group followed behind him. ¡°Boss, what are we going to do now? Without that inheritance, we¡¯ll never find the treasure your uncle stole from the Fera¡¯til tribe!¡± The lizard glared at his subordinate, before waving his arm to the side. ¡°Question that fool from the Ra¡¯tik about this thief¡¯s appearance and set a perimeter around the town. I¡¯ll send people to search the streets and all the areas under my influence. If we don¡¯t find this person in the city, we¡¯ll kill him when he leaves. If the thief doesn¡¯t show up in a month¡­¡± The lizard glanced at its brass-scaled kin on the ground. ¡°We¡¯ll make that man experience two hells; one in life, another in death. Now go, leave me. I have things to attend to and people to contact.¡± His subordinate nodded reliably and left, the large group of fellow crimson-scaled lizards from the Cava¡¯tal tribe following behind him. The lizard man was then left alone in the large town as he pulled up his hood to cover his features, especially the large scar that ran along his neck, and looked up at the street ahead, his eyes burning with a strange intensity. ¡°That treasure is mine to inherit, and mine alone. Brace for death, thief,¡± He murmured, walking down the stone road and passing a sign board. On it, was an assortment of papers and notices. On a particular piece of paper, the visage of a crimson-scaled lizard was displayed, a powerful look to his eyes as he traced the scar on his neck with his thumb. Below the picture, the poster read: Alexandrius Cava¡¯tal, Leader of the Cava¡¯tal Raiding Party. Wanted. Reward: 720 Gold Coins. Book 2, Chapter 4: Creating a System Book 2, Chapter 4: Creating a System
[Alen] The morning came as quickly as it always did; a flash of blankness; a sudden burst of light, then the wave of sleepiness that never failed to come. Alen rubbed his eyes and looked around the room. Outside, the sky was just beginning to brighten. Last night, he and Lynn spent a long time just talking and joking. In the end, they slept at around the three AM equivalent of this world¡¯s time in the terms of ¡®how fucked you¡¯ll feel when you wake up the next morning¡¯. In short, he felt quite fucked. He stretched, breathing in the fresh air that flowed into his room through the window he kept open the night before. It was still chilly, being early in the morning, the desert heat still hadn¡¯t set in. He quickly changed into his traveling gear, tossing his robe over his shoulders and strapping his leather armor to his chest. Alen felt the strings of mana connected to him and nodded when he saw that the strand that linked him to Cuck was still intact. He¡¯d left the chicken in the Galeboat as a sort of horribly ineffective security measure. Well, the little bone chicken couldn¡¯t make much noise, and most it could do was pounce and claw at people with its feet, but a security measure was a security measure¡ªregardless of how well it would work. Why did people store savings in easily shattered piggy banks that essentially screamed ¡®break me!¡¯ at incoming robbers? Same reason. Not really. Alen gripped his staff and slung his bag over his shoulders. Roland had told him that they¡¯d be leaving early, so it was definitely much better to prepare ahead of time. He walked to the door, and as he swung it open, he spotted Roland with his hand raised in a knocking gesture. The warrior blinked, before he coughed. ¡°Well, I¡¯m glad to see I didn¡¯t need to wake you up,¡± He said, lowering his hand and motioning to Lynn¡¯s room. ¡°You should help me wake that up.¡± ¡°I¡¯m good,¡± Alen said, beginning to close the door in his face. A hand reached onto the gap between the door and stopped it from closing. Roland¡¯s voice rang out from the little gap. ¡°Help me. You can roll a tooth out from under the door and wake her up with a skeleton. I don¡¯t want to wake up the rest of the town screaming at her door again.¡± Alen glared at him. ¡°My undead are weapons Roland. Tools to take the lives of the filthy infidels that populate this Earth. The use of a weapon is not to wake someone up, but to silence.¡± ¡°Can you stop talking nonsense and help now?¡± Roland asked. ¡°¡­Fine,¡± Alen sighed and opened the door, stepping past the warrior and casually sliding a small tooth under the gap between the door and the floor. He activated Summon Skeleton Minion and gave it an order. Seconds later, the sounds of something crashing entered their ears, along with the sounds of someone being startled awake. After a few more seconds of someone chasing something around the room and their muffled complaints, things began to quiet down. Lynn opened the door in glared hatefully at the two of them, rubbing her eyes and yawning as she fixed her untied white hair that flowed like a waterfall over her shoulders. ¡°You two can knock you know,¡± She said, kicking the undead chicken out of her room. Roland gave her a look. ¡°I tried. Many times.¡± ¡°I didn¡¯t want to waste time trying,¡± Alen added. ¡°This is much easier.¡± ¡°The same can¡¯t be said for me,¡± She said, stepping to the side and motioning to the room behind her to show them a mess of clothes, magic stones, and other belongings. ¡°That, is not easy.¡± Alen shrugged, smiling lightly. ¡°At least I don¡¯t have it pounce on you.¡± Eilynn glared at him and closed the door. Roland knocked lightly, smiling. ¡°We¡¯re leaving in a few minutes Lynn,¡± He said. ¡°Yeah, yeah,¡± Her muffled voice left through the door, sounding grumpy. ¡°I¡¯m getting changed and fixing this¡­ mess. I swear to the gods, if another chicken forms from a tooth to wake me up next time we stay at an inn, I¡¯m setting traps inside my room.¡± Alen laughed and walked downstairs, ordering the chicken to go into his room as he cut the connection between him and his undead, reducing it to a pile of bones. He trailed behind Roland as they sat in front of a table. The warrior glanced at him for a few moments and suddenly lowered his voice. ¡°There¡¯s something happening in town.¡± Alen gave him a look. ¡°What?¡± ¡°There are lizardmen everywhere. If I¡¯m correct, they¡¯re Cava¡¯tal, and let me tell you right now that those do not have a good reputation with regards to being riled up in the Sandsea.¡± ¡°Cava¡¯tal? Lynn mentioned them yesterday. What are they, anyways?¡± ¡°The Cava¡¯tal are¡­ independent from the lizardmen¡¯s usual society, but when there¡¯s ever a threat, they come in and act as another military unit of sorts. A few years ago, when I was still in my eleventh threshold, friction began to sprout between them and the main group. I don¡¯t know why, but the Cava¡¯tal have resorted to banditry and pillaging since then.¡± Alen frowned. ¡°If you could identify them so easily, why aren¡¯t they getting arrested?¡± ¡°It¡¯s more complicated than that,¡± Roland sighed. ¡°Their influence spreads far, and even though they¡¯re weakened now that the main group has more or less cut ties with them, they still have a large amount of support. In fact, a majority of the Sandsea¡¯s populace accepts them.¡± ¡°What the fuck? Aren¡¯t they bandits? Last time I checked, that was a no-no.¡± ¡°The Sandsea doesn¡¯t have a single power controlling it, so by helping around the area protecting small towns and villages from monster attacks, people support them and grant them influence. As for banditry, they only target corrupt people of influence and don¡¯t bother the normal citizens. Because of this, they have a bounty on them, but no city-assigned guards are obligated to arrest them on sight. Most they get are bounty hunters, and those are put down quite quick by their leader Alexandrius,¡± Roland let out a breath, concluding his explanation. ¡°Anyways, let¡¯s just go early before we get involved in whatever¡¯s happening.¡± ¡°Hm, alright,¡± Alen nodded, making double sure that the leathers on his chest were secure. He looked up and saw Lynn going down the stairs, fully equipped to go. The two of them stood up and walked to her, the three of them talking normally as they left the inn. The sun glared down at them, and Alen winced as he pulled up his hood, sighing in relief as he felt his head cool down. Around them, he noticed what Roland was talking about. People were going about their business like usual, but lizardmen in cloaks were walking around a good distance away, talking to people and pointing to a piece of paper. Roland tapped his shoulder and sped up his walking speed. Of course, Alen and Lynn followed. ¡°What¡¯s up? Why¡¯s Roland speeding up?¡± ¡°Long story,¡± Alen said. ¡°Someone essentially pissed off some lizards and now they¡¯re molesting the town looking for the guy who made fucky with them.¡± ¡°Huh,¡± Lynn nodded. ¡°You don¡¯t see people wanting to, as you said, make ¡®fucky¡¯ with the Cava¡¯tal. They¡¯re all pretty strong because of the Red Drake blood in their ancestry.¡± Alen pursed his lips in thought. ¡°You know, I¡¯ve been curious about this for a while. Did a Red Drake make the sex with a human or something? How the fuck do they have a dragon¡¯s blood inside of their family tree?¡± ¡°Not dragon. Drake,¡± The elf corrected him. ¡°And well, yes. A very long time ago, a Drake Queen fell in love with a person I¡¯m not sure is human, then gave birth to the entirety of the lizardmen¡¯s race. All that separates them is the color of their scales, but their ancestors all come from a single drake.¡± ¡°That¡¯s just¡­¡± He pursed his lips. ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°Yes, it is.¡± The rest of the way was in silence, they kept a low profile and avoided lizardmen as much as they could as they walked. Roland figured that although it had most likely nothing to do with them, it would be better to avoid attention regardless of involvement. They reached the hangar in relative peace, placing their bags inside a compartment with Cuck, who gave them a questioning tilt of the head, as they opened the sails by just little bit to control the speed. The boat swam out from the hangar, heading towards the town¡¯s main gate for Galeboat departures. Upon reaching it, Roland was surprised to see a lizardman instead of the usual guard inspecting Galeboats as they left the town. The warrior frowned and looked his two companions who were messing around in the front seats like nothing serious was happening. ¡°Are you two absolutely sure we have nothing to be guilty about?¡± ¡°Aside from my various guilty pleasures involving things I¡¯d rather not share, no.¡± ¡°I picked up an apple from the ground yesterday and ate it.¡± Alen looked at her in horror. ¡°Lynn, what the fuck.¡± ¡°What?¡± She looked at him helplessly. ¡°It fell from a tree in the square. I couldn¡¯t just leave it.¡± He shook his head. ¡°Shame on you, Lynn. Shame on you.¡± Roland sighed and ignored them. Although the two usually messed around, they wouldn¡¯t hide something potentially life threatening from him. At least, without a good reason. He trusted them enough to not doubt it. What were the chances they¡¯d piss off the Cava¡¯tal anyways? They hadn¡¯t even been in the Sandsea for half a week. There¡¯s no way this was because of them. As the boat approached the gates, the lizardman with crimson scales opened the compartment and checked their belongings. Seeing that nothing was wrong, he looked back at them with a scrutinizing gaze as he stared straight at Alen. ¡°Take off your hood,¡± The lizardman said. Alen blinked and did as told. No use resisting and mounting suspicion on themselves, right? ¡°Hi,¡± He said, waving at the lizardman as he took off his hood. The scaly person in front of him paused, slightly stunned at his greeting. He brought out a piece of paper and looked at Alen, before looking back at the paper. Roland saw this and frowned, his hand slowly reaching towards the lever that would fully unfurl their sails. The lizardman looked seriously at the three of them and spoke darkly as he raised the flag he was holding in one of his hands. ¡°We¡¯re going to have to ask you to stay.¡±You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story. As he spoke, the three of them saw more and more Cava¡¯tal crowding in the area, their weapons drawn as a large lizardman with scales the color of blood stepped out and looked straight at Alen. ¡°Return it, and I will only cut off four of your fingers before I kill you.¡± ¡°What the fuck are you on about?¡± Alexandrius sneered and drew the greatsword hanging from his back. Roland saw this and cursed, throwing one of the discs he had prepared the night before at the ground in front of Alexandrius as he pulled on the lever. Immediately, an explosion rang out from behind them as a large shockwave sent a massive pillar of sand and dust into the air. The Galeboat sped forward with a loud hissing sound, slicing through the sands as an enraged shout boomed out from behind them. ¡°Chase them!¡± Roland pulled another lever, increasing their speed further as other Galeboats shot out from the smoke. ¡°What did you do this time!?¡± Lynn stood up in her seat and drew her bow as other boats flanked their ship from the sides. She prepared an arrow and glanced back at Alen. ¡°You think that guy in the bookstore took more offense than he should¡¯ve?¡± Alen was about to respond when he suddenly remembered the piece of paper tucked behind his phone¡¯s cover. ¡°Oh shit.¡± ¡°What ¡®oh shit¡¯!?¡± Roland swerved the boat to the side, dodging bolts as lizards wielding crossbows shot at them from afar. ¡°That Cava¡¯tal are after us!¡± ¡°I may have picked up something really important yesterday.¡± ¡°What!?¡± Boom! An explosion rocked the side as a spellcaster leveled the earth nearby their boat with an explosion of sand and earth. Lynn plucked a normal arrow from her quiver and channeled her mana into it, the arrowhead glowing a bright cyan as she released it. It tore through one of the enemy ships¡¯ hulls, sending ice everywhere as it exploded. ¡°I don¡¯t know man! The man dropped a treasure map and ran away and the fucker didn¡¯t even bother to talk properly before attacking us!¡± Alen defended himself indignantly, raising his staff and gathering mana for a spell. ¡°Shit!¡± Roland swerved the boat again, avoiding another Evocation spell as he glanced murderously at the people behind them. ¡°There¡¯s no use going back now, they¡¯re out to kill, and Alexandrius has never had a reputation for being kind and forgiving!¡± A torrent of black flame exploded out from the necromancer¡¯s staff as he pointed his staff at one of the boats behind them. With a silent explosion of flame, the boat was enveloped in Rotfire, the screams of lizardmen ringing out as Alen grimaced. He thought his first time killing a person was going to be more¡­ climactic. Not this. It happened in such a relaxed, natural manner that he ended up spacing out as he stared at the burning wreck of the ship they were leaving behind. Lynn suddenly kicked him as she bent her upper body backwards, a bolt sailing over her chest as one meant for Alen¡¯s neck slammed into his shoulder. The impact sent him back, his head hitting the side of the boat as he let out a gasp from the pain flooding his senses. He grasped the bolt in his shoulder and screamed in pain as he pulled it out, his vision blurring from the hurt as he forced himself to drink a potion. The wound knitted up as Lynn pelted the boats chasing them with arrows. Suddenly, Roland screamed. ¡°They set up a blockade in front of us!¡± Alen looked back up to see a wall of Galeboats and lizardmen awaiting them just ahead, weapons drawn and spells ready to meet their arrival. He looked back at Roland with a pale face. ¡°Don¡¯t stop the boat. Speed up.¡± ¡°What are you¡­¡± Roland stopped his words, looking at him seriously as he pulled at a lever. There was no use arguing. Immediately, wing-like contraptions extended out from their boat, catching more wind as they reached a speed that caused the wind to shriek against their ears. This would end horribly if Alen didn¡¯t have any good plans, but they would be screwed either way so Roland chose to place his trust in him one more time. Their necromancer retrieved two large bone fragments from his pouch, tossing one to Lynn as he connected the two fragments to him using threads made of his mana. ¡°Stab the sharp point into the bottom of the boat!¡± She did as told, barely moving her body in time to dodge another bolt fired at them from behind. Alen plunged the sharp end of the bone into the wood at the bottom of the boat with a grunt, his increased strength showing its effect as the bone sunk securely into the wood. He looked back up. The blockade was getting closer as mages chanted their spells and fired their arrows. Some arrows pierced the hull of the boat, sinking into the wood as Alen mana surged through his staff, a whole fifty percent of his total capacity surging into the two bones as he forcefully executed the incomplete mana program for his bone-shaping spell. With a powerful boom, the bones exploded into rapid growth, a pillar of white enamel shooting out from the bottom of the boat to plunge into the sand below. Bang! It hit a solid surface and the boat lurched upwards, rising into the air as explosions boomed out from below them. The sails caught an even faster wind, carrying the boat forwards at a blistering speed as they sailed over the blockade, looks of shock below them as spells and arrows hit the spot they were previously at. Roland turned another lever to the right, the wings to the side of the boat adjusting their position to set their landing properly. With a boom and a rising cloud of sand, they landed on the ground, nearly throwing the three of them completely off the boat. Wood snapped, and one of the wings was torn off and sending the boat into a sideward spin as Roland manipulated the wheel with difficulty and retracted the wing-like contraptions on the side of the boat. Alen felt a hand grab his arm as he hung from the side of the boat, about to fall off. Lynn pulled him back in, sending him crashing into her as Roland adjusted their movement. From behind them, they heard a large roar as dozens of Galeboats ripped through the sands to catch them. Roland saw a valley and steered the boat towards it, entering it not even a few moments later as Lynn scrambled up and plucked an arrow from her quiver. A stone in her bracer glowed with an earthen light as her arrow morphed into a stone-like texture that shone with an yellow radiance. With a silent scream, it shattered the air under its seemingly immense weight as it shot into the side of the cliffside around them, their ears ringing from the deafening explosion that followed as rocks and boulders rained down to block the entrance they passed through. Smoke rose up from the sands behind them as silence dawned on the three of them, nervous thoughts filling their minds. A few tense minutes later, they left the canyon as Roland nervously glanced back behind them. It would take the Cava¡¯tal a long time to go around it, so for now, they were safe. He set the sails to full sail and took a detour, heading towards a small desert village that their map indicated was to the northeast. The orange haired warrior locked the steering wheel in place as he stepped down from the main seat. He reached the front of the Galeboat and glared at Alen, standing over him as he pointed behind them with a dark expression. ¡°What in the hells was that about!?¡± He shouted, anger filling his chest. If this idiot didn¡¯t answer him seriously, Roland was prepared to bloody his nose in. They angered the Cava¡¯tal for gods¡¯ sake. This desert was no longer safe to mindlessly travel in. Fucked wasn¡¯t accurate enough to describe them. Alen looked at Roland¡¯s expression and sighed, lowering his gaze. ¡°Sorry.¡± Lynn watched from the side silently as the anger in Roland¡¯s face died down by a good amount. He kept the glare on him as he once again asked. ¡°What happened? Explain.¡± Alen set down his staff and tiredly explained his side of the story, from the bookstore, to finding the riddle, to what happened just a while ago. Roland¡¯s expression became increasingly full of disbelief as he went on. The emerald-eyed young man finally finished, and Roland sighed, slumping against the side of the boat as he looked at the two of them. ¡°How can you be that unlucky? To catch a secret exchange of information, to bumping into the receiver, to having the item of value fall into your hands without your knowledge¡­ Which god did you piss off before coming here?¡± He climbed back up to the pilot¡¯s seat and surveyed the boat. There were holes all over the hull, which they needed to patch up before the boat filled up with sand and slowed them down, one of the side-sails had been torn right off from their landing, and the bottom sides of the boat had small cracks on it from the sudden impact of the bone against wood that was caused by their sailing over the blockade. Roland jutted this down in their notes, along with keeping track of expenses. They were going to need a new Galeboat. ¡°The budget isn¡¯t going to hold out if we buy another Galeboat.¡± Alen furrowed his brow at him. ¡°What are you on about?¡± ¡°We don¡¯t have enough money to buy another boat, Alen. Your little misadventure has our Galeboat on the verge of falling apart,¡± Roland scowled at him. ¡°No Roland, listen,¡± Alen said, waving his hand to the side. ¡°We don¡¯t need to buy another boat. We can just get one ourselves.¡± ¡°What do you¡­¡± Roland started, but Lynn suddenly let out an exclamation of realization. She looked at them with a grin on her face. ¡°We¡¯re going to steal one from the Cava¡¯tal, aren¡¯t we?¡± Alen smiled lightly. ¡°Yeah. We already pissed the fuckers off, so what¡¯s wrong with pissing them off even more? Another inch doesn¡¯t matter when we¡¯ve already traveled a mile.¡± Roland began to contemplate the matter seriously. While the Cava¡¯tal that met them were grouped together, they were bound to spread out in order to search for them. If they could catch a small group unprepared, they could take them out without much of a commotion and take their supplies, while fixing their problem of the Galeboat at the same time. There was one thing bothering him though. ¡°Alen,¡± He said. ¡°Can you kill?¡± The necromancer hesitated just like he thought Alen would. New arrivals were unlike them who grew up in this world. Most were strangers to the concept of killing, and some even went as far as to despise it. Alen looked at him and spoke slowly. ¡°¡­I killed those lizardmen on the boat a while ago because things were going so fast, but I¡¯m not sure if I can do it in another situation.¡± Roland nodded. ¡°That¡¯s good enough. Just remember that when push comes to shove, you better be prepared to take another person¡¯s life, or it could very possibly cost us ours.¡± ¡°Yeah,¡± Alen simply said, falling into silence as he crossed his arms and stared ahead. Alen had seen Lynn¡¯s expression as well. She wasn¡¯t fazed by it. He was in a boat with murderers, but he couldn¡¯t bring himself to care. He touched the scar that marked his palm like a perennial reminder. This was just how things were here. He couldn¡¯t use Earth¡¯s standards to judge people here. Plus, these people were his friends. If they were just bloodthirsty murderers, then what did the conversations he had with them mean? He refused to strap labels to them. They were Roland and Eilynn. Two people he trusted. Plus, he¡¯d killed people just then too. It barely weighed on his mind, even. It would most likely be different when he did it in a different situation, but¡­ he was a murderer now too. He was usually a hypocrite, but he wouldn¡¯t let himself be one now. Alen nodded to himself. No use thinking about things he couldn¡¯t do anything about, he told himself. He¡¯d followed these words before, and he¡¯d follow them again. For now, he¡¯d just see where the river he was riding would take him. A breath left his mouth as he opened up his notepad and began to write a program. He wanted a distraction right now; he needed it. His focus went to the bone-shaping spell he¡¯d been developing. It was a good thing he was able to use it the way he did a while ago, and just thinking about the possibilities this spell presented was something that made him especially enthusiastic. If he could develop this properly, he could have armor grow on his undead upon summoning. Even weapons could be grown and snapped off for use, which would drastically increase his contribution to fights. Right now, he still felt like dead weight to his two party members, a feeling he absolutely wanted to get rid of. With a breath, he began. The variables were a mess, and even after he polished it so much, the spell was still considered incomplete for some reason. Alen lapsed into thought. Everything was compressed, assigned to variables and functions, and he had a clear image of what he wanted to create in his mind. He could complete this spell right now and make it show up in his skill list, but Alen wasn¡¯t satisfied with that. This spell wasn¡¯t good enough. Would he be able to create skeleton chimeras from this? Armor? Weapons? Just variables and text wasn¡¯t accurate enough to shape something so accurately, so he needed something to fix that. He closed the notepad. Instead of programming a spell through mana programming, he was going to do something he hadn¡¯t done since his first week in Talaria. Alen was going to create a system function, or more accurately, an application. For that, he¡¯d have to create the Java-equivalent of his mana programming language. It was something that would take a disgustingly long while, and a lot of effort, but he had the luxury of not having to worry about things like compilers or interpreters, due to Mana Programming being a lot more flexible and uncomplicated than normal programming. If he could complete this, his magic would go a long way, and he was absolutely certain his control over the system would increase. Like his spells, the system was made of mana. It was like a mana program infinitely more complicated than his, something he hadn¡¯t even begun to understand. But since he couldn¡¯t understand the way the gods created their system¡­ wasn¡¯t he already creating one for himself through Mana Programming? If he couldn¡¯t join them, he was going to Steve Jobs the fuck out of the system and do shit himself. All of this needed to start somewhere. His answer to that would be¡­ this. Alen felt the will and mana coalescing inside his mind, signaling the creation of a much, much more complicated system function than his system-created notepad. He grinned widely. This shit wouldn¡¯t finish itself. Book 2, Side Chapter: Darrite? Book 2, Side Chapter: Darrite?
[Anne & Bernard] Below the outskirts of Greide Village, two people shrouded in darkness and dark cloth scuttled along the darkness, a lantern radiating a soft purple light following behind them as it floated through the air. One of the figures was a young woman with purple highlights in her shoulder-length hair, while another was a normal-looking young man with a strange charm to his aquamarine eyes that seemed to suck whoever viewed it right in. The latter had a somewhat crudely crafted set of deep-forest iron plate around his body, hidden under a dark green cloak as a large container hung from his back. Two shields were strapped to his arms, giving him the feeling of an impenetrable wall. The woman meanwhile, wore a well-crafted set of Steel-hide Boar leather armor under her cloak the color of purple so deep it was almost black. In her hands was a terrifying black warhammer, seemingly crafted from pieces of insect chitin welded together to create its terrifying form. One of them, the young man, waved his hand forward. The iron lantern followed his command and flew ahead of them, rising three meters above the floor of the passage to float still just below the ceiling. Suddenly, the flame brightened, and the area in front of them was fully exposed to reveal a sea of heads and green bodies. The heads turned, and stared straight at them. Both parties looked at each other, stunned. A few moments of silence passed, but one of the many heads in front of them slowly opened its mouth. ¡°Ah¡ª!!¡± With a muffled sound, a block made of metal lodged itself inside its mouth, knocking a few teeth out as the Goblin collapsed to the ground. Immediately, the two people in front of the mass of goblins turned around and ran as a chorus of high-pitched screeching exploded out from behind them. ¡°Shit, shit, shit..!¡± Bernard yelled, placing his arm behind him as they ran, covering himself and Anne who was running beside him. Low clangs rang out from the metal as rocks and crude arrows pelted the shields¡¯ metal surfaces. Anne, who was beside him, had a terrified look on her face as she ran as fast as she could. Goblins were no problem to them even in that number, but the sight of dozens of little shit-sniveling midgets running towards you tended to do a number on someone¡¯s morale. She hummed something under her breath, a song, and suddenly, a purple glow shone beneath their feet as their running sped up by a good amount. ¡°Bernard, slow them the fuck down!¡± She shouted, covering her ears in irritation as the screeching echoed off the walls and amplified the sound to disgusting lengths. The aquamarine-eyed blacksmith running beside her willed his magic, and from the container strapped to his back, an assortment of items floated out. A metal flask, and two sharp daggers. The items sped past the two, the metal flask opening up in front of them to spew out copious amounts of black oil. The two jumped over it, and as they landed on the other side, the two daggers screeched against one another, creating a shower of sparks that landed on the oil below. Boom! With a boom, the oil exploded into an inferno of flames that blocked out the opposite side of the passage, stopping the goblins in their tracks and even causing some to bump into the ones in front and knocking them into the flames. Afterwards, the screeching only got louder until Anne finally whipped around to face the flames with a look of intense irritation on her face. She sucked in a breath, and then she screamed. A powerful wave of purple light exploded out from her, amplified by her magic as it similarly reverberated off the walls to crash into the goblins in front of them with an intense cacophony of sounds. The sheer impact of her voice knocked the goblins down and sent the ones at the front flying back, causing even the flames on the ground to flare up before ultimately being extinguished from the sheer pressure of her voice. Her friend behind her immediately followed up, his eyes shining as over a dozen brick-sized blocks of metal floated out from the container strapped to his back. They shone with a dull aquamarine hue as they sped past the greathammer-wielding bard, cracking into the heads of multiple goblins that remained standing. The bricks didn¡¯t stop there. With quick movements dictated by the young man¡¯s eyes, they weaved into the goblins, shattering bones and cracking skulls as goblins fell by the handful. Anne leapt into the fray, avoiding the metal bricks with practiced motions as she jabbed the hammerhead of her weapon into the chest of a green-skin, then spun the hammer in her hand to have the shaft crack against the shin of another goblin. Finally, she swung it like a golf club, cracking stone as the area around her suddenly seemed to become heavier, causing goblins to fall to their knees as the weapon shattered the floor and sent a line of stone shrapnel into the horde of goblins, shredding skin and ending many amongst the metal bricks the endlessly chased and struck down any fleeing foes. After a few more seconds of fighting, the two finally stopped, panting as they put away their weapons. Bernard¡¯s items flew back into the container on his back, and the two began to walk ahead once again as they covered their noses to block out the suffocating smell of blood and smoke. Anne glanced back at the goblins, shuddering as she recalled the feeling of flesh and bone giving way to her attacks. No matter how many times she killed monsters, the sensation never failed to make her feel disgusted. ¡°When is this tunnel going to end?¡± Bernard complained, drinking from a flask of water. Anne sighed. ¡°You don¡¯t get to complain dude. We¡¯re here because you got greedy and asked that blacksmith for the ore he was using.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t you know good Darrite is?¡± Bernard looked at her like a blasphemer. ¡°I can make some awesome weapons with that crap. It¡¯s not my fault some goblins hiding under the village decided to steal a lot of shit that included some Darrite ore.¡± ¡°You are so going to be late in reporting back.¡± ¡°Shut up,¡± Bernard said, walking significantly faster as they reached the end of the tunnel to reveal a large room carved into the stone. In the center of the room stood a fat goblin hiding behind the rest of its kind in fear as the group of little green-skins trembled at the sight of them. Bernard was about to activate weapon float when Anne stopped him with a hand. She stepped in front of the goblins and glared at them, before raising her hammer. The goblins squealed, flinching as they retreated farther back into the room. Anne turned around and flashed a grin at Bernard, before turning back at the little midgets; her face a mask of threats and violence. ¡°Treasure,¡± She growled, gathering her mana to activate magic from her second highest affinity; Gravity. Immediately, her two biggest mana affinities¡ªVocal and Gravity, intermixed in order to create a pressure that weighed on the goblins with every syllable that left her mouth. The weak little goblins equivalent to the first and second thresholds fell to their knees, trembling under the weight of the air as only a handful remained standing on shaky legs. Anne saw fear in their gazes, but they didn¡¯t seem to understand her words. She sighed inwardly. It was pretty dumb to expect goblins to know Common. Instead, she brought out a silver coin and glanced at Bernard, sending him a signal with her eyes. She threw it at them, and mid-flight, Bernard channeled his Telekinetic affinity to increase the power of its descent. That, along with the greathammer-wielding bard increasing the gravity around the coin, caused it to slam into the ground, fracturing earth and leaving an imprint a few millimeters deep. The goblins screamed in fright, some even wetting their pants as they refused to even look up at her.This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it. She pointed at the coin. ¡°Give,¡± Anne ordered, feeling sweat drip down her brow as she infused a feeling of desire into her voice using magic. The green little creatures seemed to understand what she said, with the few that were standing hurriedly running to a room adjacent to the one they were in. Anne lowered the pressure of her magic and sighed lightly as her magic stopped draining her mana reserves. Just the act she pulled had cost her a great amount of MP, especially after infusing an emotion like desire into her voice and increasing the gravity around the coin by threefold. A little while after the goblins relaxed from the reduced pressure, one of the green-skins ran out of the adjacent room, a sack in its hands as it ran towards them with its head lowered. It flinched as it entered Anne¡¯s gravity zone, but managed to deliver the bag, dumping its contents in front of them. Coppers, a surprising amount of silver, trinkets, tools, shiny rocks; an assortment of items landed on the floor in front of them. Bernard stared at the pile, before grinning widely as he pulled out a large piece of red-colored ore. He looked at it lovingly. ¡°I¡¯m already wet.¡± ¡°Save thinking of James¡¯s dick for later,¡± Anne said, glaring the goblin off as she started putting things into the sack. ¡°Preferably not anywhere in my general area too.¡± Bernard waved his hand, and the clutter on the ground smoothly flowed into the sack on the ground. Surrounded in a greening blue glow, the sack floated on the air beside him as the two of them walked out of the passage. As for the goblins, well, they usually moved out after having their lairs discovered and attacked, so the village above wouldn¡¯t have to worry anymore. The contract was just to get rid of them after all. Neither of them felt like killing more of these slightly humanoid creatures, especially with the tragic screeches they let out while dying. Passing over the hallway covered in blood and injured goblins, the two left the underground passage through a cave-like entrance hidden over large clumps of thick, purple vines. The goblin nest wasn¡¯t far from the village. They managed to make it back in just about twenty minutes of speed walking. Bernard walked up the steps of a cozy little wooden home and knocked on the doors as Anne idly swung her legs around by the porch, the image contrasting heavily with the terrifying hammer hanging from her back. Finally, with a little creak, the door opened and a gust of air that smelled of baked bread wafted out. ¡°Hey,¡± Bernard said, looking at the middle aged man that opened the door with an apron over his shoulders. ¡°Contract¡¯s finished?¡± The man spoke with a gruff voice, scratching his scruffy salt and pepper beard as he regarded the young man in front of him. As this person had proven once before, he was not only a competent blacksmith, but also an equally competent fighter. ¡°Yeah,¡± He nodded, the sack floating to his right gently landing on the floor in front of the man¡¯s feet. ¡°Got rid of your village¡¯s uh, goblin problem and stole your stuff back.¡± The man smiled, and entered the house, coming back a few seconds later and placing a pouch onto Bernard¡¯s hand. The familiar jingle of coin entered his ears and caused him to grin. With this, he should have enough money saved up to go on a forging spree for a few days. As for Anne, well, she always found a way to keep herself entertained while he drowned inside the heat of the forge, so he¡¯d let her be. Bernard was about to turn around and leave when he paused, looking back at the man who was about to shut the door. ¡°Andre told me I could have the Darrite ore in that sack if I retrieved the stolen items.¡± ¡°You have any way to confirm that?¡± ¡°Come on man, I¡¯ve been forging in your village for half a week, completed like, five contracts, and I¡¯m well known enough in the area that a bounty on my head is essentially a death sentence,¡± Bernard threw his hands up exasperatedly. This was the third time this village representative told him something like this. He should¡¯ve learned from the first two times, but Bernard was never good at learning things he didn¡¯t want to learn. The man gave him a look and reached a hand into the sack, tossing the ore at him. Bernard caught it and flashed the man a grin. ¡°Any chance I could receive a bonus?¡± ¡°No,¡± The man said, unceremoniously shutting the door to his home. ¡°You really thought that would work?¡± He heard Anne say from behind him. ¡°It worked on those thieves after we decided not to turn them in.¡± ¡°You were threatening them with a five year sentence.¡± ¡°Doesn¡¯t matter,¡± Bernard shook his head, walking down the wooden steps with her as they moved towards the village¡¯s forge. Not all villages had one, but this one was lucky (and rich) enough, to be able to sustain one. As they passed a brewery, a young man who seemed to be waiting for the two of them suddenly stepped out in front of them, a bouquet of purple flowers in his hands as he looked at them with sparkling cat-like yellow eyes. No, rather, he was looking past Bernard¡ªstraight at Anne. He knelt in front of the stunned duo and began to speak. ¡°Anne, you must remember me, Alleid, the merchant¡¯s son you saved from a stone golem just a few days back,¡± He said, before coughing once. ¡°Though this has been done by many, please let me profess my admiration towards you with a poem that can only be given from myself, to yo¡ª¡° Just as he was about to start, Anne finished nudging Bernard on the shoulder. He glanced at her, then kneeled down in front of the man and patted his shoulder. ¡°You¡­¡± The merchant¡¯s son¡¯s eyes flashed with recognition. ¡°Do not tell me¡­ you are her suitor!?¡± Bernard blinked. ¡°Uh, no.¡± ¡°Her lover!?¡± ¡°No.¡± ¡°Father!?¡± ¡°Definitely not.¡± ¡°A man she¡¯s taking advantage of for money!?¡± ¡°Dude. What the fuck,¡± Bernard said, pinching the bridge of his nose as he looked the man straight in the eye. ¡°She,¡± He pointed at Anne with his thumb. ¡°Is gay.¡± The young man stared at him. ¡°What..?¡± Bernard sighed and looked back at Anne. ¡°Do I really have to do this?¡± She looked back at him seriously. ¡°I¡¯ve been waiting for this to happen for two years. I won that bet, Bernard. Do it.¡± ¡°God damn it,¡± He cursed, before looking back at the man tiredly. He put up two hands, one in the shape of a ring, and other pointing towards said ring. ¡°Do you see this?¡± ¡°Yes,¡± The man nodded, a befuddled expression lining his face. ¡°This,¡± Bernard gestured to the ring. ¡°Is puspus. And this,¡± He raised the pointing finger. ¡°Is a dick.¡± ¡°¡­¡­¡± ¡°See Anne?¡± He motioned to the girl behind him who was nodding seriously. ¡°She doesn¡¯t like dick. She wants puspus, yes? Do you understand?¡± Seeing that the young man remained silent, Bernard continued. ¡°She doesn¡¯t go for dudes. Plus, even if she did also like dick, the faggot¡¯s taken. I¡¯m sure you¡¯ve heard, but we¡¯re new arrivals. Anne has a girlfriend, er, lady suitor back home.¡± The young man with cat-like eyes in front of the two stood up abruptly. ¡°But that is past! One cannot return to one¡¯s world after being taken here! A relationship of the same sex is also a desecration of the teachings of Lady Hirhme¡ª¡° ¡°Aaand I¡¯m out,¡± Anne said, walking past Bernard and the young man as she entered the forge, greeting the head smith Andre with a grin and a nod. Meanwhile, Alleid, who was apparently a firm believer of some goddess, continued to preach to Bernard about the consequences of ignoring the teachings of his faith. Just as Bernard was about to use his Telekinetic affinity to activate Weapon Float, Andre waltzed out of the forge and pushed Alleid out of the way. ¡°Merchants don¡¯t preach, son,¡± Andre said, looking back at Bernard. ¡°Let¡¯s go. You wanted to smith some Darrite, right? Let me show you how I do it.¡± Bernard grinned and nodded, ignoring the look on the face of the young man in front of him as he walked away with Andre into the forge. He pulled out the Darrite from his container and held it in his hands as he stared at the billowing smoke of the forge, and the hissing of steam as metal was treated and cooled down. He gazed on as Andre poured mana into a device to intensify the flames and began to heat the metal. He watched, and Anne sat by a work table, a lute in her hands as she hummed along to a tune, causing little purple flames to float around her. Bernard smiled. He had to admit, once they got past trying not to die all the time, this fantasy world really got a lot more fun. He glanced outside, and saw the merchant¡¯s son walking away with his shoulders drooped. Anne was still gay though. Poor guy. Book 2, Chapter 5: AutoBone Book 2, Chapter 5: AutoBone
[Alen] A single screen hovered in front of Alen, a blank white space¡ªlike a sheet of paper, with a blue border. He stared in concentration at the little white screen, taking numerous glances at the system-created notepad that hovered just beside his new system application to make sure that everything was correct. It was a mess of words and commands he¡¯d created himself since he started using his own mana programming language and stopped basing the commands on languages like HTML and PHP, along with lines and lines of his four days¡¯ worth of effort. Granted, the whole thing took less time than expected to create, and it didn¡¯t cost much mana, but if his prototype worked properly, then he expected to be able to shape bones into more complicated shapes. More intricate works would have to wait for when his mana programming language advanced further. He wouldn¡¯t be making the stupidly destructive wheel skeletons from Dark Holes any time soon, but he should at least be able to make something basic like a sphere. As he sent mana into the white screen in front of him, a simple 3D circle formed within the previously blank space. He picked one of the shaping tools he¡¯d assigned and sent mana into it, assigning it to a specific spot in the sphere. Immediately, he felt a very small amount of mana drain from his body as the ball within the system application grew a thin, but extremely sharp barb in one direction, making it look like a needle. He grinned and grabbed a shard of bone from his pouch. Immediately, he assigned the needle in the program to a variable and activated the next part of the process. In his hand, a small wisp of purple began to form, a strange greenish-black mana pulsing within the center of the little strand. Alen stared at the manifestation of the variable he¡¯d created and channeled it into the bone with a look of concentration on his face. Along with it, he sent mana into the piece to fuel the growth process. Finally, as the final part of the purple strand sunk into the bone, Alen sighed as he relaxed his shoulders and stared at the shard of bone in his hand. ¡°Alen, get ready,¡± A voice¡ªfemale, from behind him said. ¡°The search party took a stop by that large rock, and we¡¯ll go in as soon as they fall asleep.¡± He nodded, letting out a sound of affirmation as he gingerly held the piece of bone in one hand and activated the spell within. Ssssss¡­ With a small hissing sound, the shard began to grow into a sphere the size of his fist. He held it by the top, pointing the bottom part of it in front of him. Suddenly, with a silent explosion of bubbling bone matter and mana, a sharp point manifested in in front of him, creating a wickedly sharp point made out of extremely hard mana-enhanced enamel. ¡°YE¡ª!!¡± Alen was in the middle of screaming ¡®yes¡¯ when a hand covered his mouth and pulled him down, pushing him front-first into the top of the large spire of earth they were camping on. He blinked, surprised as he stared at Lynn beside him who had a finger against her lips as she glared at him. ¡°Quiet down,¡± She said, eyeing the ridge of the large rock as a ball of light idly passed through just below them, pushing away the darkness in order to reveal anything that might be creeping towards the Cava¡¯tal camp. ¡°You¡¯re going to get us killed.¡± Alen glared back. How dare you interrupt my triumphant cheering? He licked the palm clamped against his mouth. The elf recoiled from the sudden moisture on her hand, barely stifling the shout that threatened to leave her lips. She glared at him and punched his shoulder. Alen laughed quietly through the pain, his shoulders shaking as he covered his mouth. Eilynn wiped her hand on her coat and threateningly narrowed her eyes at him. ¡°Hey Lynn,¡± He whispered, poking her on the arm. ¡°I¡¯m getting you arrested as soon as we get the Cava¡¯tal off of us.¡± ¡°But you¡¯ll break me out anyways, right?¡± ¡°Go die.¡± He laughed, glancing at the lizardmen who were eating dinner below them as before looking back at the elven archer with a grin. ¡°Ohoho, is this embarrassment I see? Are you going to blush and shyly run away now? I don¡¯t support tropes, you know.¡± ¡°Shut up,¡± She shook her head and smiled lightly. ¡°We¡¯re about to attack a group of people who are at least in the fifth threshold, you know that right? The main group is even stronger. We¡¯re massively outclassed, so you should take this more seriously.¡± ¡°See, I¡¯m in too good a mood for that.¡± ¡°Stop subjecting my hands to your perverted fantasies. I¡¯ll have you know I crushed a bug with that hand a while ago. I had it all over my palm.¡± Alen looked at her disgustedly. ¡°I meant my mana program. I finished it just now. And why the hell did you use your hand to crush a bug? Just stomp on it. What the fuck did it do to you anyways?¡± ¡°It¡¯s a bug.¡± ¡°That doesn¡¯t answer anything!¡± ¡°What?¡± She gave him a look. ¡°Don¡¯t tell me you¡¯re the squeamish kind of guy? That¡¯d be disgusting coming from you.¡± ¡°Lynn, all life must be treasured. Don¡¯t elves pass along these kinds of teachings?¡± Alen reprimanded her, as if he hadn¡¯t killed a bug himself just a few minutes ago. ¡°I don¡¯t know what elves you¡¯re talking about, but my people had to move locations a few years ago because we hunted the surrounding ecosystem¡¯s food chain to near extinction,¡± Lynn grinned, mimicking the motion of drawing a bow and releasing an arrow with a little ¡®pew¡¯ sound as she looked down on the Cava¡¯tal below. ¡°And up next comes global warming.¡± ¡°What?¡± ¡°Nothing. You¡¯re being awfully conspicuous, Lynn. I thought your ear flaps would be enough to tell you that you might as well be shouting at the lizards down there with how much you¡¯re moving about.¡± She shook her head. ¡°Hmph, this is nothing. I can even jump up and those lizards have no way of seeing me. Their vision at night is absolutely terrible.¡± ¡°Then why are we lying down on the dirt?¡± She looked down at him and Alen realized she¡¯d been sitting up all along. She¡¯d just pushed him to the ground when Lynn had covered his mouth. The corners of her lips were twitching into a laugh as he silently sat up and dusted himself off. ¡°Hey Alen.¡± ¡°Fuck off.¡± Suddenly, a tired voice rang out from nowhere, the sound seeming to reverberate from the inside of their heads. ¡°Can you two stop making so much noise?¡± Lynn blinked and seemed to press something in the air in front of her. ¡°Roland? Weren¡¯t you sneaking up to their camp?¡± ¡°I couldn¡¯t,¡± Roland¡¯s voice rang out again. ¡°The scaly bastards set up magelights all over the place, and I saw alarm runes carved into the pieces of metal they were tossing all over the ground a while ago. You two will have to start the attack later. I¡¯ll follow up.¡± Alen opened up the party¡¯s chat and pressed the button. ¡°Aight. I¡¯ll start summoning my new skeletons now.¡± ¡°Good. Lynn, how are you doing your attack?¡± Eilynn grinned and glanced mischievously at Alen as she replied. ¡°I have a new technique ready. When you hear the boom, start attacking.¡± ¡°Got it.¡± ¡°Wha, and here I thought I was the only one making new spells,¡± Alen said. ¡°What did you make?¡± ¡°You¡¯ll see,¡± She smiled, looking down at the camp below with destructive anticipation. Alen shrugged and took out a few black shards¡ªinsect carapaces. Over the four days they¡¯d been running from the Cava¡¯tal, they¡¯d encountered a lot of bugs, and Alen had managed to adjust his spell to be able to create the insects from the pieces he got from their carapaces. It took a lot more mana due to a lot of factors¡ªmainly being the material, but it was worth it. Right now, he was staring at his current favorite summon. The Nighthunter Scorpion. He opened up his bone-shaping system application, something he¡¯d come to call AutoBone, and held the piece of carapace in one hand. His mana reached into the black exoskeleton and wrapped around a colorful ball of strands located within. The necrotic mana wrapped around it like a cocoon, and slowly, the black-green ball of mana left the carapace; bright, colorful lights gently pulsing within. Alen grinned and pushed the strands wrapped up in his mana into his AutoBone app. Suddenly, the white space within the application changed. Quickly, the form of the Nighthunter Scorpion came into shape. It was a large creature, with a terrifying obsidian chitin covering its body as a golden pattern ran down from its head to its back, and finally, up its tail. He pursed his lips, praying to whatever god he knew for the program to work. I¡¯m going to start worshipping all of you as soon as this program works, he desperately thought. As a test, he picked one of the shaping tools and zoomed into the scorpion¡¯s legs. He was going to make it thicker, sturdier¡ªstronger. He willed the tool to glide over the leg, and a tense moment passed, before Alen felt a very small amount of mana leave his body and run into the system application in front of him. Slowly, the leg he¡¯d glided the tool over got thicker in one spot, along a straight line, signifying his experiment¡¯s success. ¡°Yes!¡± Alen pushed his fists up, a look of uncontrolled joy on his face. ¡°God isn¡¯t fucking real! I win!¡± Lynn glanced at him weirdly, almost expecting a bolt of lightning from the sky to smite him. She looked back down below to make sure nobody heard him. She shushed in his direction and went back to whatever she was doing. Alen meanwhile continued to change and edit the structure of the scorpion in his application. To the purple strand within that he was editing, it acted like a big block of Legos, and every addition he added in acted like a new extra piece attached to the whole. Because of this, he could simply take those pieces off, save the configuration he set them in, and graft them onto a new purple growth-strand after he finished editing this one. He still had no way of copying muscle memory or consciousness, but his progress towards the purple growth-strands were advancing by leaps and bounds. With this, he only had to edit a single scorpion, while adding the improvements to the rest of his shards. Alen got to work. He had about two hours to badass-ify this Nighthunter and the rest of his undead, and he was not letting that chance go. Tonight, he was going to create some Alen-brand undead. Lynn glanced back at Alen and felt a shiver run down her spine as she looked at the horrifying army of undead forming around him. He¡¯d figured out how to make undead of those Nightstalkers the day they killed one for the first time, and now, he¡¯d managed to make them even more terrifying. The massive scorpion stood two meters tall and nearly five meters long with its tail, even bigger than it was originally as the jet-black color of its scales changed to an inky black-green. Its four legs had thickened and were covered in sharp barbs that threatened to lacerate anything that was brave enough to touch it. Its back had deformed to create a surface like a saddle, while its pincers had gotten bigger, heavier, and most importantly, sharper. Even the stinger gave off a deadly vibe from the feeling it gave off.Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions. It stood beside the necromancer who seemed to be focused on something in the air in front of him. Around him, more of his undead crowded. Larger bone wolves with more teeth, spurs, and sharper claws, skeleton apes with thick, powerful arms and mouths full of jagged teeth, and a large bone snake that was five meters long and had a maw full of needle-like fangs displayed in rows. That wasn¡¯t even mentioning the other enemies they¡¯d managed to kill over the past four days. Alen had collected samples from all of them and apparently imprinted their consciousness into the exoskeleton shards along with large amounts of his mana, so it was obvious that he was nowhere near finished. Lynn looked at him and smiled. You aren¡¯t the only one who has a few new party tricks though. She plucked an arrow from her quiver and drew her bow, pointing it at the camp of lizardmen who were preparing to go to sleep. A stone in her bracer glowed, and the arrow turned into another one of the ballistic earth arrows. She released the string and stepped to the side, but strangely enough, the arrow refused to fly. It stayed suspended in the air, rotating lightly, but anyone who looked close enough would find that power was built up and restrained, ready to be released at any time. The elf drew another arrow, and then a green stone in her bracer glowed to transform the arrow into something that looked like a large needle made of plant matter. She aimed it at one of the tents and released the bowstring, letting it stay still in the air as she drew yet another arrow. She did this multiple times, a plethora of multicolored arrows floating in the air all around her. There were eleven arrows in total, her current limit for the spell. She checked and found that the mana inside her body had been depleted by a large amount. She¡¯d be able to fire a few more special arrows after this barrage, but she¡¯d have to stick with the normal ones afterwards. With the destructive power this attack was going to show though? It was fully worth the cost and preparation time. ¡°Alen, you finished?¡± She asked. The necromancer threw a tooth to the ground and she watched as an especially large bone ape formed. Attached to its arm was a large needle in a conical shape that was attached to a short handle of bone¡ªa lance. The ape snapped off the thin section of bone that connected the lance to its arm and held it in its powerful hands as it mounted the skeletal Nighthunter. The young man¡¯s emerald eyes shone as he looked back at her with a massive grin. ¡°Edging.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know what that is, but I¡¯m betting you a piece of silver you¡¯re being gross again.¡± Alen walked up to her, shrugging. ¡°What¡¯s that? Alen doesn¡¯t agree to the bet because he¡¯ll probably lose a silver coin? Whoa. Who would¡¯ve thought,¡± he said. She smiled, shaking her head as she opened up the party¡¯s voice chat. ¡°Roland. We¡¯re about to start the attack.¡± ¡°It¡¯s about time,¡± Roland¡¯s voice let out a huff. ¡°I¡¯m tired of walking around after our Galeboat broke down. Let¡¯s get this over with.¡± Eilynn nodded and looked at Alen who stood beside her as his undead descended from the large rock, gathering on the ground below as their magic-enforced bodies of enamel and chitin tensed up. Finally, she glanced down at Roland who was hiding in the shadows near the undead, and seeing that everything was in order; she waved her hand and released the arrows. There was a soundless scream as the arrows tore the air apart. Finally¡ª Boooom! The earth arrows hit the tents like artillery shells, sending stone shrapnel everywhere as more arrows hit the surrounding area. Ice arrows burst and sent frost in all directions, followed by poison arrows that released a cloud of spores into the air. Finally, a single flaming arrow exploded against the camp, igniting the spores in the air and causing a massive roar as flames soared in all directions, evaporating ice and creating a cloud of steam and smoke that obscured all sight as panicked shouts rang out from the encampment. As soon as this happened, a handful of metal disks soared into the camp and caused powerful tremors as vibrations ruptured the earth. Roland charged at the camp, and behind him surged a tidal wave of twenty-eight undead of all vicious shapes and sizes. The undead ape wielding the lance held it at the ready as the scorpion it had mounted charged into the fray and weaved into the melee. It blurred into the mist of water vapor as the ape thrust the lance forward, catching a member of the Cava¡¯tal scouting party in the stomach and thrusting his weapon right through. The lance was swept to the side, and the gravely injured lizardman was sent flying off into the path of an improved bone wolf that ripped out its throat. Charging on, the ape and scorpion duo lost the element of surprise as they fought against three more lizards. A gauntlet-clad fist crackled with lightning as it cracked against the scorpion¡¯s thick carapace, barely damaging it before the attacking lizardman dodged to the side, suffering a cut from the scorpion¡¯s stinger. The lance stabbed into his shoulder. Another lizardman jumped, raising his spear to stab at the ape. It cracked against the ape¡¯s chest, breaking a rib off, but the undead managed to grab the weapon, pulling the lizardman in and catching him by the neck. Suddenly, the ape¡¯s ivory bones turned a terrifying black-green as ice the color of liquid darkness raced up from its thick arms to its powerful hands. Cra-a-ack. With snapping noise, the bone ape¡¯s hand crunched down on the lizards throat, the flesh decayed by Necrotic Blessing¡¯s version of Deathchill Touch weakening its defense to the point that the ape easily snapped its neck with a bit of effort. Bang! With an explosion, a torrent of flame blew against the ape¡¯s back as the third lizard, a female sorcerer, let loose a stream of flame from her hands. Before it could go any further and actually damage the ape lancer, a black beetle similarly reinforced by Necrotic Blessing rammed against her from behind, eliciting numerous cracking sounds as her magical barrier shattered. She flew into the side of the tent nearby, the cloth collapsing on her as no further movement came from within. The ape looked down on the injured lizardman pugilist in front of it and wordlessly threw the corpse in its hand aside, letting it crumple to the ground like an empty sack. Once again, a command rushed into the ape¡¯s consciousness from its master. I¡¯m going to start using the other undead. Uh, don¡¯t use the lance to smash their faces in. Stab the fuck out of the lizardmen with it. That is all. The ape almost seemed to nod, a reflex remaining from the pulsing orange strand within its skull as it readied its lance once again, the Nighthunter it rode letting out clacking sounds as it snapped its razor sharp pincers in anticipation. The lone lizardman in front of the duo paled, glancing nervously at the black ice that crept into the tip of the bone lance¡­ Roland slammed his shield into a Cava¡¯tal warrior¡¯s blade, knocking the warrior back a step with a grunt. With a twist of the enemy¡¯s long blade, he slammed the pommel against Roland¡¯s exposed chest. The orange-haired man had a calm look on his face as his breastplate lit up, spreading the force impact all over the plate as he paled and backed off, gaining distance as he let out a diagonal slash with his glowing blade. The lizardman gave him no breathing space though, with the power of an enemy at the eighth threshold, it pointed its palm at Roland, letting loose a powerful burst of air at the ground and blowing the sand beneath their feet into the orange-haired warrior¡¯s face. Roland was blinded, and was about to suffer a grievous wound when the lizardman was forced to back off after an arrow glowing with an earthen light nearly blew off his foot. Two voices rang out in Roland¡¯s mind. ¡°Be careful! That guy¡¯s a lot stronger than the rest of them!¡± ¡°I¡¯m sending some of my undead over, don¡¯t get killed!¡± Squinting his stinging eyes at the lizardman in front of him, Roland readied his shield once again, the thrill of fighting a competent humanoid opponent once again burning in his chest as the techniques he¡¯d refined returned to him. He wouldn¡¯t be able to utilize them to the full extent because of his stats, but he had the Enchanting magic he loved so much to help him this time. He raised his shield calmly, slowly stepping to the side as he circled his foe. A few moments passed¡­ CLANG! Metal shrieked against metal as the elegant longsword glided past Roland¡¯s tilted shield. The surface pulsed. A shockwave blew the sword to the side. Roland punched, and the shield made contact with the lizardman¡¯s face, dazing him. With a slash, Roland¡¯s sword sliced into the enemy¡¯s leather armor, but failed to leave a cut on the lizardman¡¯s skin. His foe stabbed forward and met air as Roland shrugged his shoulder and avoided it with a bare amount of movement. Roland stepped forward and sliced, leaving a deep wound on the lizardman¡¯s bicep. The lizardman winced and stomped on the sand below, making it erupt into a shower of dust the blinded them both. The scaly warrior didn¡¯t need to use his sight to see though. The dust itself acted like a complete sphere of vision for him. He stabbed at Roland and found purchase in the gap between the warrior¡¯s armor. Then, he held his sword by the blade in a half-sword grip and slammed the guard against Roland¡¯s chest, sending him reeling. The lizard prepared for a final strike at the opening presented to him and¡ª!! A large fist suddenly flew into the cloud of dust and made itself known to the lizardman. Having no time to dodge, the lizard could only use his injured arm to block the strike. Crack! His ulna snapped from the sheer weight of the strike, black ice creeping up from the leather to slither into his flesh, leaving a stinging cold sensation as the chill bloated the muscle beneath his scales to spread a virulent necrosis. He was sent flying back, rolling along the sand for a few meters until he finally came to a stop. Above, the empty sockets of a Nighthunter Scorpion stared down at him. The lizardman sucked in a final breath. Two pincers snapped towards him from both sides in a scissoring motion, unceremoniously severing his head from his neck. The bone ape mounted on the scorpion stood still as silence reigned on the surrounding camp. Tattered tents, black-green rotfire, the corpses of foes, and piles of bones littered the ground; glowing in an eerie orange light as the crackling flames burned away at the copses left behind by Lynn¡¯s initial barrage. It had wounded most of the lizardmen, giving Alen¡¯s undead an easy time as they picked off the dozen injured Cava¡¯tal stationed in the camp with their superior numbers. Roland looked around and sighed helplessly. He was riding in the wave of adrenaline battle had brought him, and had a decisive counter ready to kill the lizardman at the final moment, but Alen had to muck it all up with that sneak attack. Pouring the contents of a potion into the wound on his shoulder, Roland opened the party chat. ¡°See, Lynn. That was easy.¡± ¡°All thanks to me.¡± ¡°Hello? Can we just talk about how awesome my undead looked? My Necrotic Blessings were on point.¡± ¡°Oh? What¡¯s this though? Why do I feel like I gained more XP than you did?¡± ¡°Shut up. You timed your arrows perfectly and just picked them off before my undead could. It¡¯s kind of fucked up that people give XP too, though. I¡¯m not sure I even want it¡­¡± Roland pressed the button. ¡°You¡¯ll have to get used to it. With the number of Cava¡¯tal after us, this won¡¯t be the last we¡¯ve seen of them. Just the last two encounters we had with a search party a few days ago nearly got us killed. We¡¯re lucky to say we only lost a Galeboat then.¡± A short pause. ¡°¡­Yeah,¡± Alen said. Lynn voice rang out inside their minds, changing the topic. ¡°Anyways, I didn¡¯t target the Galeboats in my attack. Are there any good ones we can take, Roland?¡± ¡°Let me see,¡± Roland said. He waved away the party chat and walked to the edge of the camp, stepping over still burning bloodstained cloth to see boats anchored to the sands just outside the range of Lynn¡¯s attack. There were four in total. Two were in somewhat bad shape, reflecting years of use and repetitive repair. One was relatively new and had barely any scratches on its surface. Roland was going to call taking that one when he spotted the final Galeboat, a large piece of cloth draped over the surface. He pulled it away and felt his eyes widen. In front of him stood a single Galeboat that was larger than the rest. The hull was made from a smooth, warm, sand-colored material, while the front seats were capable of carrying three people. The sails were furled and were a pearly white in color, but were obviously bigger than a normal Galeboat¡¯s. As for the captain¡¯s seat, the steering wheel was designed in intricate patterns, while the levers attached were crafted well and sturdy. Roland knocked his fist against the hull, hard. Sturdy, he assessed. A hand clapped his shoulder. ¡°Yo,¡± Alen¡¯s voice rang out. ¡°This one looks good.¡± ¡°Is that¡­ more space?¡± Lynn asked, grinning as she climbed up the boat and sat down, stretching her legs at the extra space presented to her. She then lied down on the seats, comfortably resting her head over her arms as her feet dangled out from one side. She looked at Alen. ¡°You walk.¡± ¡°No.¡± Lynn clicked her tongue and sat up as Alen and Roland climbed into the boat after her. Roland made himself comfortable in the pilot¡¯s seat as Alen plunked down beside Lynn. Enjoying the extra space, Alen set his bag down in front of him and leanedhis staff beside him against the edge of the seat. Above them, the sails unfurled and caught the perpetual winds that blew across the Sandsea, slowly propelling their new boat into motion. Alen felt the wind against his face and grinned. It was good to have a Galeboat again. Walking on sand was tiring, and he¡¯d had enough of it after just one day. Never again. Lynn pulled out a box from her bag and started eating, what seemed to be the Sandsea¡¯s equivalent of snacks entering her mouth. Alen plucked a piece and had one himself as their boat picked up speed and turned, heading towards their next stop. Suddenly, the boat stopped as Roland pulled a lever to furl the sails. Alen furrowed his brows and looked back at him. ¡°What?¡± Roland squinted his eyes. ¡°Something¡¯s coming towards us. A lot of somethings. Lynn, can you take a look at that?¡± The elf stood up from her seat and looked out at the horizon. There were little black figures in the night, and was that¡­ the flicker of a torch? Those were too big to be people. Those were sails. A lot of them. She paled. ¡°Roland. Full speed, towards the alternative stop, now. Hurry!¡± Alen stood up and gave her a look as he squinted at the dark horizon. He saw nothing. ¡°What?¡± Wordlessly, Roland released the sails and turned the wheel, letting the boat do a 180 as they began to speed away on the opposite direction. At the same time, having detected their retreat, the darkness in the distance suddenly lit up as multiple lights shot into the sky, revealing their boat, and the massive Cava¡¯tal fleet chasing behind them. At the prow of the massive Galeboat in front of the fleet stood a single lizard with scales the color of blood. Alexandrius. The necromancer looked back and laughed dryly. Lynn and Roland laughed helplessly with blank eyes, the complete turn of events almost unbelievable to them. Alen glanced at the recycled shards of the undead he¡¯d summoned and smiled weakly. ¡°We are so fucked it''s insane.¡± Book 2, Chapter 6: Taunting Death Book 2, Chapter 6: Taunting Death
[Alen] ¡°Shit!¡± Alen shouted, feeling the all too familiar ache of mana exhaustion slowly starting to set in as his reserves dropped below forty percent. He hurriedly brought up his AutoBone once again, the Galeboat they were riding shuddering and groaning as explosions and crossbow bolts pelted the area around them. The boat swerved, and Alen gritted his teeth as the seatbelt dug into his skin to keep him on, the earth to the left bursting in a geyser of sand meant to turn their boat over and stop their retreat. Lights flashed all around him, while the sky felt as if it held five suns as the powerful lights the Cava¡¯tal had launched just a few minutes ago gave them day-like vision in a massive radius. It stretched as far as two kilometers, but Alen had found out all too badly that the scaly motherfuckers had more than a single volley of those lights in stock. The design within his system application finished, and Alen felt more of his mana drain from him as he poured it into six separate shards of bone in order to fuel the growth-process of the purple strands. Lynn was standing beside him, sweat running down her face as she fired arrow after arrow, targeting the pilots of the ships instead of using her powerful elemental shots in order to preserve mana. It was no use destroying a single boat for that cost with a fleet this massive. Roland was desperately carving runes into a handful of objects as he piloted the boat, glancing behind them every few seconds in order to pull the boat out of the way of the Cava¡¯tal¡¯s endless attacks. Alen ground his teeth and felt a crunch. There was even sand in his mouth. This only served to fuel his anger as he took the bone shards and slipped them into the sand below, peeking his head out from the rim of the boat to monitor the chase behind them. Suddenly, as a boat passed, the sand below it erupted as spikes of bone as thick as a man¡¯s arm tore holes into its hull. The boat grinded to a halt, and another Galeboat crashed into it, sending the area of the fleet into a momentary fluster as boat after boat swerved to the side and inadvertently collided with other Galeboats, giving Roland some breathing room to open the side sails in order to increase their speed while their foes took the time to readjust. They were given only a few seconds though. Alen threw out teeth from his pouch, bone wolves forming mid-air and leaping into the boats of the Cava¡¯tal fleet and wreaking havoc. An arrow was loosed and planted itself into the long neck of one of the lizardmen. The scaly pilot gurgled out blood from his mouth and fell, dead as the Galeboat fell out of control and smashed against the one to its right. Roland threw a disk to the ground and caused a large cloud of dust to rise up and obscure them from view as he swerved the boat behind a large spire of rock and continued onwards. The spire blocked the light and sent the fleet into a momentary confusion, but Alexandrius merely snorted and directed the fleet into their direction. If the Cava¡¯tal didn¡¯t know how this trick worked, how could they carry themselves so proudly in the Sandsea? They would be safe for a few more minutes. Afterwards, his fleet would stop them and take what was rightfully his. Roland cursed. ¡°We need another way! Going into that village isn¡¯t going to help us with anything! At most, we¡¯ll only be endangering the residents. Lynn, check the map for another way!¡± The elf tossed her bow down and rummaged through her pack to bring out a map. She spread it across the seat and identified where they were currently at. Yellowrock, Grainstead, Yarrowstone¡­ Nothing. Their best hope would be to make for the Maelstrom of Dust, but that would take them two days to even reach the outer perimeter. Her shoulders sagged, her lips trembling as she looked back at Roland. ¡°Unless we use the villages to stall them¡­ there¡¯s nothing we can do.¡± The warrior had a grim look on his face, blood running down his cheek from where a stray crossbow bolt had cut him. ¡°This is my fault,¡± He said. Alen frowned at him. ¡°Don¡¯t be a dumbass. This fuckup had nothing to do with you.¡± ¡°Those alarm runes,¡± Roland sighed. ¡°They weren¡¯t there to just alarm the camp like most. Those were probably carved by a skilled engraver. When we crossed them, it alerted the entire fleet. I didn¡¯t imagine that they would have something like that. This is on me.¡± ¡°Que sera sera,¡± Alen said, wincing as he dabbed healing salve onto a wound on his forearm, the situation prompting a change in his usually joking way of speech. ¡°Doesn¡¯t matter. Stop blaming yourself like an insecure teenager and focus on reliably saving our asses like you always have.¡± Roland gave him a long look. ¡°Okay,¡± He said, then sucked in a breath. ¡°I have a plan.¡± ¡°I can¡¯t fucking believe your plan is ¡®threaten and piss off the murder-hobo lizard and hope for the best¡¯. We are unbelievably fucked. Lynn, just shoot me with an arrow right now and get this over with,¡± Alen said as he stood still in the middle of a desert canyon, the new Galeboat anchored to the sand behind them as he stared at the slowly rising sun. Just a few hundred meters away from their location, a large cloud of dust was kicked up as Alexandrius¡¯s fleet blocked the entrance to the canyon and steadily approached them. ¡°I¡¯d rather not waste an arrow on you,¡± Lynn said, a nervous look shrouding her face. ¡°Well, I¡¯m sure Alexandrius¡¯s men are all too eager to try and do just that. I¡¯d rather you give me my first penetration, yeah? I¡¯m not a fan of group impalement.¡± Despite the situation, she smiled weakly. ¡°Those bolts do hurt, don¡¯t they?¡± ¡°Right? Be gentle when you do it please,¡± Alen joked, nervously touching the scar on his palm. Roland in front of them stood calmly, a grim look on his face as he stared at the approaching fleet. ¡°They¡¯re coming. Alen, get ready.¡± Lynn nodded and walked back to the boat, readying her bow. Alen wiped a drop of cold sweat from his brow and stepped forward to stand beside Roland as the fleet approached. Finally, seeing that they had stopped, Alexandrius¡¯s main ship stopped just a few meters ahead. The bloody-scaled lizardman jumped down from the boat and began to stride towards them, every step seeming to radiate a suffocating pressure that was so heavy it almost caused Alen to bend his back. Was this¡­ was this how much stronger the mana in Alexandrius¡¯s body was compared to his? The necromancer shakily brought out a folded piece of paper and held it in one hand. He raised the arm and pointed it towards Alexandrius, the piece of paper dangling from his fingers. He opened his other hand and had it hover just below the parchment. Immediately, with the sound of air being sucked in, a large amount of mana surged into Alen¡¯s hands as Rotflame covered the entirety of his forearm and roared, singing the very tip of the paper. ¡°¡­We¡¯re here to make a deal,¡± Alen swallowed down the stutter creeping up his throat. His back was drenched with sweat. The person in front of him was exuding such a powerful aura of impending death that the pressure the Ghoulbear had given him his first time fighting one was a trifling breeze compared to the raging maelstrom standing before him. Alexandrius came to a stop in front of him, before he opened his mouth and slowly spoke. ¡°And what makes you think I¡¯ll agree?¡± In response, the Rotfire surged, burning away at an even larger piece of the paper. The crimson-scaled lizardman gazed calmly at him, as if he cared not whether the parchment in the necromancer¡¯s hands burned to ashes right in front of him. Roland¡¯s eyes sharpened as Alexandrius¡¯s hand moved, and Alen flinched as the lizardman calmly grabbed his arm, the Rotfire doing nothing to his seemingly blood-drenched scales. ¡°I can cut off this arm and take back that paper in your hands before you can even blink once. Let me ask you again. What makes you think I¡¯ll negotiate with a weakling like you?¡± In response, Alen¡¯s emerald eyes glowed brightly, almost all of his mana surging out of his body into the dozens of strings of mana connected to him. Numerous spikes of bone exploded out from the cliffside, turning a terrifying black-green mid-flight as the searing decay of Rotflame covered the spears of enamel. They stopped just a few inches away from Alexandrius, the flames absorbing the light of the sunrise and seeming to bathe the area in a deathly darkness. ¡°Because I¡¯ll make sure I blink at least twice before you can fucking kill me,¡± Alen glared at the lizardman, his emerald eyes staring straight into the golden pupils of the mighty foe before him. The two stared at the other for a long time. Seeing that Alexandrius wasn¡¯t going to make a move, and even looked like he was willing to listen, Roland stepped forward. ¡°I can promise you that piece of paper will not survive a clash between our two parties, no matter how large the gap between us is.¡± ¡°You¡¯re severely overestimating yourself,¡± Alexandrius scoffed, but the hint of praise was in his golden pupils as he assessed them carefully, taking the orange-haired warrior¡¯s words into careful consideration. After a moment, he spoke once again. ¡°You seem familiar,¡± He told Roland, casually gesturing to him; his other hand still firmly grasping Alen¡¯s forearm. ¡°I¡¯m curious, have we met?¡± ¡°No,¡± Roland shook his head. ¡°But you must know of my father, Izan.¡± A flash of recognition entered the lizard¡¯s eyes. ¡°What¡¯s one of the sons of that person doing in a place like the Sandsea? Furthermore, stealing from me? If that Izan knew you¡¯d resorted to something so dishonorable, he¡¯d be the first to cut you down in my place,¡± Alexandrius smirked, grasping Alen¡¯s arm even tighter. The necromancer¡¯s face turned red, his eyes bloodshot as he felt the bones in his arms creak. Alen just barely stopped himself from fully incinerating the paper right there.If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. ¡°We did not steal from you,¡± Roland plainly said. ¡°Hoh,¡± The lizardman raised an eyebrow. ¡°You have the audacity to say that after displaying this piece of paper and running from me for five days?¡± ¡°Threatening to cut four of my fingers off two seconds after meeting is a pretty shit line for insinuating that a situation can be resolved peacefully,¡± Alen squeezed out, his voice nearly cracking as sweat rolled down his face. ¡°Plus, we didn¡¯t steal your fucking paper. We don¡¯t even want it. Your crappy informant bumped into me in the library and dropped it before scurrying away.¡± ¡°Many people have died from being in the wrong place at the wrong time,¡± Alexandrius calmly retorted. ¡°That doesn¡¯t make it any less retarded,¡± Alen shot back. ¡°Are you retarded?¡± Bang! Without as much as a warning, Alexandrius¡¯s fist connected with Alen¡¯s face and sent him flying back an instant after the necromancer finished speaking. He sailed over the Galeboat and flipped over, unconscious; blood dribbling down from his nose. Alexandrius had an almost amused look on his face as he turned to Roland, the piece of paper now in his hands as Alen¡¯s bone spikes slowly receded and crumbled to bone dust. ¡°I must say, I¡¯m impressed. Your friend has quite the talent for courting death.¡± Roland spared nary a glance at Lynn who dragged an unconscious Alen back into the boat and glanced at her orange-haired companion worriedly. He looked straight at the crimson-scaled lizardman and felt a familiar cold look make its way into his face. ¡°This is settled,¡± He flatly said. ¡°And what makes you think that?¡± Alexandrius gave him a look, nonchalantly tossing the partly scorched piece of paper in his hands to the side. ¡°I imagine you don¡¯t want to bring any more trouble to yourself by killing me or any of my party members,¡± Roland said. ¡°My father would be quite angry to hear about the death of his eldest son.¡± ¡°Eldest? Roland Wolfram, is it?¡± The lizardman guessed. ¡°You have quite a few achievements under your belt. Tell me, why is the mana in your body so weak? If you really are who you say you are, you should be at my level of strength by now.¡± ¡°I¡¯m on a journey to refine my techniques from the ground up. A little threshold regression is merely a step in it,¡± He said, locking eyes with the lizardman. ¡°You¡¯re awfully chatty for the leader of the Cava¡¯tal.¡± Alexandrius smiled. It looked savage¡ªa terrifying grin that spread across his face to reveal his sharp teeth. ¡°Let us conclude this¡­ chat, then.¡± The invisible pressure in the air caused by Alexandrius¡¯s mana intensified, and Roland nodded, cold sweat on his back despite his calm demeanor. ¡°I¡¯m sure you¡¯ve guessed early on that that piece of paper was fake,¡± He calmly spoke. ¡°There¡¯s an unstable rune written on the real piece that you value so much, and it will tear the paper apart as soon as I release or lose control of the mana suppressing it. Do anything other than let us go, and both of us will be on the losing end. It¡¯s not worth a simple misunderstanding, Alexandrius. Let my party leave, and let us depart as friends instead of foes.¡± As Roland finished, he brought out a piece of paper. One that was evidently more ancient than the last¡ªthe true copy. On it, a rune surged and flickered madly, obviously overcharged with mana and looking as if it was about to burst. A thin layer of Roland¡¯s own magic kept it in check. Alexandrius took the piece of paper and gave Roland a long look. ¡°I could not care less about what your father would think about you being killed by my hand, but you¡¯ve proven yourself just as capable. You have my respect,¡± He said, eyeing the pulsing rune on the parchment as he turned his back and walked back towards his fleet. ¡°I will use that portion of mana to wipe away the rune an hour after we leave,¡± Roland said, turning around before he walked towards their Galeboat. As the orange-haired warrior neared the boat, Alexandrius¡¯s voice rang out once again. ¡°I will begin my search for my uncle¡¯s legacy in two months. If you pass the tenth threshold during this time, find me in the Sandsea¡¯s capital and I will hire you as mercenaries.¡± Roland said nothing in return, only looking at the bloody-scaled lizard as he boarded the large Galeboat and had his pilots unfurl the sails and start the engines. Roland did the same, pulling the lever and turning the boat around as they left the other way. Lynn who was sitting on the edge of the Galeboat poked at the unconscious Alen who was sprawled across the seats with the tip of her bow. She looked up at Roland and grinned. ¡°That went well.¡± Alen groaned and sat up, the constant ache in his head an annoyance he wished he didn¡¯t need to feel. Looking around with his squinted eyes, he touched his face and almost winced, but let out a sigh of relief as he realized a potion had fixed his nose before it ended up permanent like the scar on his palm. He looked up and found that the sky was already dark. He¡¯d been unconscious for a day, it looked like. He glanced around, and judging by the boat, the wind, the sand going into his mouth like always, and the general lack of torture tools and chains, he figured that the negotiation had gone as planned. He stood up, careful to not wake Lynn who still had a few elemental stones on her lap. Those things cost as much as the amount I spent buying my equipment. At least put them away before you go to sleep, Alen thought, putting them into her bag as he walked up and sat on the edge of the boat, beside the pilot¡¯s seat where Roland was reading a map. ¡°We aren¡¯t dead,¡± Alen said. ¡°Yay.¡± Roland set down the map and sighed. ¡°We¡¯re lucky he didn¡¯t attack as soon as he saw us. I would¡¯ve lost control of the rune and destroyed the paper, but we¡¯d be too dead to negotiate then.¡± ¡°Hey man, I got punched in the face because your instructions were to taunt him. What if my nose got wrecked? I¡¯d cry.¡± ¡°Alexandrius is the type of person to value courage in the time for cowardice. The whole act with those bone spears was meant to change his evaluation of us, and it worked. If he really took offense over what you said, you wouldn¡¯t have a head on your shoulders.¡± ¡°Hold on, weren¡¯t those just conjectures before?¡± ¡°¡­Yes.¡± ¡°I could¡¯ve died, then! What the hell!¡± ¡°But you didn¡¯t,¡± Roland smiled. ¡°Aren¡¯t you the one always going on about not crying over spilled milk? What was that you said before? Kay serah?¡± Alen sighed. ¡°Que sera sera; whatever will be, will be. Touch¨¦.¡± ¡°Exactly,¡± Roland said. ¡°I got us out, didn¡¯t I? Go and experiment with your magic or something while I plan our route. We¡¯re heading deeper into the Sandsea, so our enemies are only going to get tougher. Probably none at Alexandrius¡¯s level, but it never hurts to get stronger.¡± Alen stood up and dusted himself off. ¡°How strong was he anyways?¡± ¡°From the mana I felt from his presence?¡± Roland considered it for a moment. ¡°Twentieth threshold at the very least. Emphasis on very.¡± ¡°Damn, well, better off avoiding him in the future.¡± ¡°He¡¯s taken quite the liking to us, actually.¡± ¡°Tell him I prefer people with vaginas. I don¡¯t like gay threesomes either.¡± "Tell him yourself.¡± Alen plunked down from the upper side of the boat and sat back down on his seat. Their plan regarding that negotiationwas good. They essentially didn''t give Alexandrius any other option than to let them go. Engaging them would be too much of a risk to that piece of paper otherwise. It would be destroyed as soon as Roland either let go of his control, lost consciousness, or died. There was no way Alexandrius could stop all three from happening if he attacked. It was a new kind of battle, and they had won. Alen sure hoped that would be the last he saw of that lizard though. The guy was terrifying. Alen seriously nodded to himself andconsidered his options. It was either going to be: talking to his friends, going to sleep, ormana programming. He¡¯d been asleep for most of the day, so no to taking a rest again. His friends were probably asleep at this time too, but Alen wouldn¡¯t know. His watch broke from a fight a few days ago, so he had no way of telling the time besides looking up. Doing that usually just gave him exceedingly useful observations like: ¡®It¡¯s the sun. Hi.¡¯ and ¡®Oh look, the moon. It must be night.¡¯. Not very helpful beyond that. Oh well, if the sun didn¡¯t rise in a couple hours, he¡¯d message his friends. For now, mana programming it was. He looked up at the sky, thinking. First, he had to summarize. A day ago, he finished AutoBone. Not many improvements to the app since then. Next, he¡¯d configured Necrotic Blessing to also be able to give his undead Rotfire instead of Deathchill ice, which he essentially did by swapping the spell variable of D-touch with a version of Rotfire Bolt he¡¯d edited just for that occasion. By taking out the lines of code that made that spell a projectile, he made it so that it was like DT in a way that it acted as an offensive coating of sorts. A melee attack buff, essentially. Deathchill Touch was his strongest offensive spell at the moment, and the range was the only thing limiting his use of it, so while applying a Rotfire buff looked cooler, he¡¯d observed it to be weaker than the DT alternative. It sure was good for posturing though. Alen shook his head. No. No posturing. He wasn¡¯t going to be that guy. He¡¯d be badass unconsciously. Unconsciously. No effort. He coughed and continued his mental summary. Next, he finally stopped being an idiot and figured out a way to recycle his summons. It was kind of embarrassing he only found out a few days ago, actually. Anyways, Alen recalled his recycling process. Summon a skeleton, after use, have the skeleton break off another tooth or piece of chitin, then transfer the strands of light that controlled the skeleton into said tooth/chitin. After that, the summon would just collapse into a pile of bones, and he¡¯d just have to put a large amount of mana into the brand new tooth in order to fuel the growth process again. It was a hell of a lot more efficient than just discarding the summon after use. Alen had slapped his head after he found out he could do that a few days ago. He was usually pretty smart about stuff like mana programming and spell creation, but he was surprisingly dumb when it came to other areas. Alen sighed and concluded it there. Aside from managing to compress most of his spell programs a bit more to decrease mana cost, he didn¡¯t have anything else to recall. Now, there was a new question to face. Create a new spell, or improve the existing ones? Alen didn¡¯t want a cluttered spell list full of things he¡¯d never use, but at the same time, he didn¡¯t really have much of an idea on how to improve his current spells aside from compressing and increasing the amount of mana he poured into it. Then again, what would he write as a program anyways? He needed a debuff, maybe more buffs, and some utility, along with some minion-related offensive spells. The first two was pretty hard to accomplish right now. He didn¡¯t have any concepts in his head. As for the last two¡­ Alen grinned and opened up the AutoBone app as an idea presented itself to him. He could create a purple strand through this app, or edit existing ones. Now, he didn¡¯t have a way to create the utility spells he had in mind with normal programming, but what if he designed something like, say, bone armor in the AutoBone app, and assigned it to act like a mana program¡ªas a skill, instead of an add-on to one that already existed? Solving those last two problems would be easy if he could figure that out. New debuffs and buffs had to wait, but this would be extremely beneficial when finished. Alen selected a shaping tool and got to work. Alen rubbed his hands together.Here comes another all-nighter. Book 2, Chapter 7: Flight Book 2, Chapter 7: Flight [Alen] Alen¡¯s hazy eyes were squinted, watering from pain as sand swept past all around him and felt like they were slashing at his skin. All around him, the howling of gale force winds exploded past as the sound of groaning wood and straining sails entered his ears. He heard someone shouting¡ªLynn. Something bright flashed past him, but he couldn¡¯t pay attention to it. The boat shook from a powerful shockwave. A hand grabbed his arm¡ªit was soft, his thoughts wandered. He was pulled to the side and a strong gust rushed past him accompanied by the roar of a powerful monster. The boat rushed deeper towards their gamble in their frantic escape. The winds got stronger and stronger. The lightweight material of their new Galeboat began screeching in agony. It rose. He opened his mouth to speak. BANG! Suddenly, he lost all sense of being grounded. His stomach floated, his mind felt like it was thrown into the sky. His shoulder hurt. The seatbelt was constricting against it to keep him on the boat. Finally, the feeling of ascent stopped. His stomach dropped. Sna-a-a-ap! He was falling¡ªthe boat was falling. The sails had snapped in half. Powerful winds blew sand into his face and kept him blinded as his dim surroundings blurred. Bang! The world came to a sudden stop as the boat violently hit the ground.
Egg Chat Room
Adam: hi guys Bernard: did someone say¡­ autoerotic asphyxiation!?!?! James: that gag never gets old. Anne: Did someone say¡­ James¡¯s dick!!!! James: it just got old. Adam: dude, sam and i met up n shit and now we¡¯re just traveling together Sam: Yeah man. My ice is all hard because of it. Jamal: any one heard from Alen lately? Adam: i dunno man. prolly making the fucky with that elf he keeps talking about. kappa Bernard: unironically, the day Alen gets puspus is the day i fap to trees Anne: Don¡¯t you do that already tho? Bernard: fuck you. Anne: Nah I¡¯m good man. Puspus is where it¡¯s at. Adam: same Bernard: shut up you gay lesbian Sam: See, the funny thing is, we don¡¯t know whether he¡¯s referring to Anne or Adam. Get it? ¡®Cause Adam wears stuff from the women¡¯s section. Anne: shut the hell up sam holy fuck Jamal: Wtf Adam. James: at least he doesn¡¯t wear all leather like Jamal. Adam: its like jamal just wants to make his skin blacker by wearing leather. how the fuck does he even have that skin tone anyways? he¡¯s asian. Bernard: it¡¯s to blend into the darkness man. rather, it¡¯s to blend into the Jamal. same thing honestly. Sam: You guys are fuckin¡¯ racist man. As an honorable Ching-Chong, I hold no hand in this. Bernard: can¡¯t be racist to a race that doesn¡¯t exist in this world. explain that, atheists. Anne: That legit made no sense. At all.
Alen sighed. What was he going to do about the metaphorical (but not really metaphorical) SJWs furiously typing into their keyboards now? He closed the chat after telling the rest of the guys he was alive and hopefully not dying any time soon. He hadn¡¯t been talking to them as much lately, but he really was too busy. From traveling, constantly running and fighting off monsters in the Sandsea, to getting over that mess with Alexandrius, his schedule was way too full. Speaking of things he had to do¡­ The piece of bone in his hands was eventually tucked into a small pocket he¡¯d managed to cut into the inside of his robes. The cloth was all ripped and messed up from all the fighting they¡¯d been doing anyways, so he didn¡¯t really care at that point. Not like he was much for caring about appearances either way. He nodded to himself and looked down to observe the current state of his equipment. His staff was the same as always, but the decrease to mana cost and the extra power it provided his spells was something he didn¡¯t want to go without, especially with the stupid amounts of mana his summons needed to be prepared ahead of time. Next, he felt around his gray robe. On his shoulders, two pieces of bone were tucked inside holes he¡¯d cut and haphazardly sewn together. The same was for his sleeves, that contained four bones in them each. A large piece of enamel was even tucked into holes he¡¯d carved under each of the soles of his shoes, while six were lined down his backside through similar pockets in his robe. The leathers kind of got in the way, but it was nothing he couldn¡¯t get over. Large amounts of mana was contained within each piece in order for them to serve their purpose effectively. As for what that purpose was? Alen grinned and walked out of his room. They¡¯d stayed the night in a town just after they separated from the Cava¡¯tal, and they were getting ready for an entire week of traveling without any stops. Roland told him it was to maximize the storage compartment of the Galeboat, and also to make up for the fact that they had to go around the Maelstrom of Dust, which was a massive sandstorm that never ceased to churn. Apparently, get close enough, and it could very well spell disaster for any Galeboats due to the absurdly strong winds. He shrugged to himself as he sat down beside Lynn who was having breakfast alone. ¡°Where¡¯s Roland?¡± The elf shrugged, her untied white hair spilling over her shoulders. She looked at him, her eyes still sleepy. ¡°Groceries,¡± She yawned. ¡°He left just a while ago. Said we were leaving after he came back.¡± Alen received his breakfast from a waitress. He thanked her before turning back to Lynn. ¡°This is a first. You look dead. Don¡¯t you like, make yourself presentable before leaving your room?¡± She shrugged. ¡°My hair tie got worn out and tore last night. I asked Roland to add a pair into the stuff he¡¯s buying. I got too lazy to even fix myself up because of it.¡± ¡°Wow, that was admirably honest.¡± ¡°About time you started admiring me. I¡¯m brilliant.¡± ¡°That¡¯s kind of a given, you know? If you weren¡¯t anywhere near as awesome as I was, I wouldn¡¯t be hanging out with you.¡± ¡°Wow, that was incredibly narcissistic.¡± ¡°Make up your own lines. Stop stealing mine.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t see what you¡¯re talking about.¡± The idle chatter continued until Alen finished his meal. Lynn stood up and grinned at him. ¡°Buy us drinks?¡± ¡°You know, I¡¯m starting to think you only talk to me for free drinks.¡± ¡°Psh, what?¡± She waved her hand to the side. ¡°I talk to you because of a lot of things. You have plenty of redeeming qualities. Like¡­ ah¡­¡± He walked behind her and grabbed her shoulders, pushing her out of the inn like he would a grocery cart. ¡°Yeah, yeah. Don¡¯t insult me further when I¡¯m buying you drinks. It¡¯s a no-no.¡± She looked back at him and grinned. ¡°You shouldn¡¯t be talking about no-no¡¯s. Holding a pure maiden like me and jostling her around like this¡­ You¡¯ll get arrested, you know?¡± Alen shook his head. ¡°I¡¯m starting to agree with Roland that you¡¯re getting worse by the day.¡± ¡°I¡¯m not,¡± She laughed, twisting around and walking beside him. She put her forearm on his shoulder like a drunkard would his fellow drunkard and smiled. ¡°You get to take a girl as pretty as me out for some juice in the morning. What¡¯s there to complain about? You didn¡¯t do this much in your old world, right?¡± ¡°Don¡¯t go assuming I didn¡¯t get girls.¡± She tilted her head. ¡°Did you?¡± ¡°Not really.¡± Lynn¡¯s laughter rang out once again, like the chiming of little bells. ¡°It¡¯s great to be able to chat like this again. I only ever talked like this to my friend Elena back home.¡± ¡°Well, I¡¯m sure she¡¯s very glad she managed to get away from you,¡± Alen said, pursing through his coin pouch for a few coppers. She saw this. ¡°Cheapskate.¡± ¡°Again, my lines.¡± Alen bought the drinks, a surprisingly sweet-tasting beverage from what looked like a red coconut, and the two decided to return to the inn in favor of waiting for Roland and not getting screamed at when he came back to find the two of them missing. Minutes later, the orange-haired warrior entered the inn. Roland motioned to them, unceremoniously boarding the Galeboat outside. He twisted the key into the lock, and with a slight flap, the sails unfurled to carry them out of the quaint little settlement. ¡°You¡¯d think something would happen,¡± Alen idly said. Roland gave him a look. ¡°What?¡± ¡°You know, something. Like, an event or some shit. I think that was the first time we left a village in the Sandsea without being either dead tired, in the middle of being chased, or just generally in complicated circumstances.¡± ¡°That is a fair point, actually,¡± Roland nodded. ¡°Try not to piss off any more people at thresholds more than thrice ours.¡± Lynn grinned. ¡°Does that mean we can go for ones at our level?¡± Roland considered it for a moment, before he smiled back, a slight fire in his eyes as he recalled the lizardman at the eighth threshold he¡¯d fought. ¡°Only if they¡¯re asking for a good thrashing.¡± ¡°Alen¡¯s usually the one asking for a beating though.¡± ¡°People are just naturally jealous of my genius.¡± ¡°I guess the amount of vulgar jokes you make in a single day is impressive.¡± ¡°Take away my jokes and what would I have left?¡± ¡°Your various redeeming qualities.¡± ¡°Fuck you.¡± Roland¡¯s lips curled into a smile at the banter of his two party mates. Their three-month journey in the Sandsea had just started, but they¡¯d already gone and managed to piss off the leader of the Cava¡¯tal. Monster attacks were more frequent for some reason as well; maybe these two were magnets for bad luck? Roland shrugged. He was passing thresholds quickly thanks to it anyways. The sooner he passed the fortieth, the sooner he could come over to his family and prove them wrong about fighting with just the sword. He even considered looking for the Underearth once, but it would probably be impossible to reach. No one had found an entrance to it in years. No one that lived long enough to tell the tale, anyways. The orange-haired warrior squinted at the horizon and yawned as he felt the sun on his skin. It was still early in the morning, so the sun wasn¡¯t baking him alive yet. Roland decided to go and enjoy that fact. The Galeboat moved for a handful more kilometers, an hour idly passing by with the occasional conversation between the three of them. He looked up from the map beside him and squinted his eyes again. Roland frowned. Galeboats, again. He stopped the boat and looked grimly at the approaching boats by the horizon. ¡°Alen,¡± He told the necromancer who looked at him questioningly. ¡°Get your undead ready for summoning.¡± ¡°Not a-fucking-gain. I should¡¯ve thought better about raising a flag like that,¡± Alen groaned, his sleeve swishing as he tossed teeth into the sand all around them. Lynn shrugged and hopped off the boat, dexterously climbing a spire of rock nearby. She sat down on the top and flashed a thumbs up at them, similarly looking at the approaching boats. Roland looked questioningly at Alen. ¡°You aren¡¯t going up with her?¡± ¡°I wanna test something,¡± The necromancer said. ¡°Let¡¯s hope you don¡¯t have to,¡± The warrior said. ¡°Those might just be merchant ships looking for people to trade with again, but we can¡¯t always be lucky. The Sandsea is crawling with bandits and pirates.¡± ¡°And those are presumably pirates?¡± ¡°We¡¯ll see when they get here.¡± The two stood on the boat for a good ten minutes, watching as the eight ships surrounded them. An elf with skin the color of amber jumped off from one of the boats with a despicable-looking grin on his face. Alen elbowed Roland. ¡°Definitely pirates,¡± He whispered. Roland sighed, his eyes assessing the opponent in front of him. Slightly hunched back, lightly bent knees, and fidgety eyes that seemed to scan the area for any threats. An experienced fighter. Someone that most likely used speed to his advantage, Roland figured, but they shouldn¡¯t have too much of a problem against him. Roland was confident he could take on people from as far as the ninth threshold alone, and the feeling he got from this bandit was definitely not much stronger than that, if on that level at all. The three of them probably wouldn¡¯t have a problem in a confrontation. As for the ones on the boats? He snorted inside. They were lackeys. No powerful bandit group would have such a small or shabby collection of Galeboats. If he¡¯d seen a ship as large as Alexandrius¡¯s, he would¡¯ve turned tail and fled as soon as he saw it in the horizon. He looked at Alen. The necromancer was as unperturbed as he always was, the ever-present curl to his lips appearing as he stared at the amber-skinned elf. Whether his calm was from confidence or stupidity, Roland honestly didn¡¯t know.This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it The elf approached them, glancing at Lynn who had a handful of arrows floating around her from above. ¡°Why don¡¯t you get that little missy down here so we can talk?¡± Roland was about to tell the elf off when Alen interrupted with a sigh. ¡°Yeah, yeah. You¡¯re going to ask for a toll next, right? Then for our expensive looking equipment? Maybe throw a wild Lynn into the package? Lemme say this right now; fuck you, yeah? We¡¯re not handing anything over. Skip the bullshit, get out of here or regret it.¡± The elf laughed derisively. ¡°Regret it? What¡¯s a six-threshold trio going to do to me?¡± Roland looked unsurprised at the mention of their thresholds. Any typical magic user would be able to figure it out, especially with the lack of protection they had against scans like this. He glanced weirdly at Alen. He was the weird one. Roland had never even heard of what this guy called Mana Programming. Couldn¡¯t even read mana signatures, apparently. He watched as Alen raised an eyebrow. ¡°You¡¯re literally the most typical kind of bandit fodder. You might be at a slightly higher threshold, but I¡¯m guessing you aren¡¯t even capable enough to make a decent living through doing commissions from the House,¡± Alen calmly said. ¡°Even if you are strong, Roland here would probably beat the shit out of you, while Lynn up there would decimate your crappy boats in ten seconds.¡± The bandit frowned and suddenly moved. Roland sprang into action, but his pupils constricted as the man blurred, using a weird technique to turn into a surge of sand, only to reappear behind Alen with a dagger stabbing towards his nape. Roland was shocked. Did this person set Agility as his highest attribute? He looked at his sword that was still a good distance away from the man¡¯s neck and felt sweat on his back. I¡¯m not fast enough! Alen forced down the panic he felt when the man surged forward. He was prepared for this. Prepared. His high Intelligence rating did more than just increase the raw power of his spells. The man was moving fast, but he could see it¡ªreact to it. He could see the sand swirling around the man; the reflections of light from the grains of earth surrounding him. He could see it all. The elf passed him and disappeared behind him. Alen¡¯s body wasn¡¯t fast enough to react, but his mind was. Mana surged into the pieces of bone on the back of his robe to activate his spell and¡ª Sssssssssss! With a loud hissing noise, the bones inside his robe activated and exploded outwards into terrifying bone spears shrouded in a freezing Deathchill. The elf twisted his body¡ªthe spears grazed him, the wounds turning purple-black from a deep necrosis. The blunt ends of the bone slammed into Alen¡¯s back, who let out a strangled grunt as he was propelled forward. The elf barely had time to react before a sword tore through his side, cutting a deep wound into his stomach. A shield flashed into vision. It slammed into his face, a powerful shockwave being transmitted into his skull. His nose broke; his brain literally shuddered. The elf used his technique and turned to sand, reappearing a distance away. He staggered and dazedly downed a potion, causing the wounds on his body to knit back up. He looked up to see a light flash towards him. Bang! A small metal disc slammed into his chest, fracturing ribs as shockwave after shockwave turned his insides to mush as an explosion of earth, ice, poison, and fire rocked the small fleet he had brought along. He took three steps back, before he lamely dropped to the ground¡ªdead. The other pirates jumped off their little Galeboats, panicked shouts leaving their throats as minor injuries mounted from the flames and flying shrapnel. Roland grabbed Alen¡¯s robe and pulled him away, dragging him to the back of the Galeboat. An arrow thudded against their ride, the shooter suffering a wound to the side as one of Lynn¡¯s arrows grazed him. The bandits began to recover, and just as they were getting ready to charge at the boat¡ª Sssssssss! With another loud cacophony of hisses, two Nightstalker Scorpions formed from the chitin Alen had tossed to the ground. The situation quickly devolved to chaos as bandit and scorpion engaged in a fierce battle. Overall, there were about twenty or so of them, but Alen didn¡¯t want to summon any more undead until necessary. Refilling the teeth with mana was a tiresome activity, and it left him in a state where he barely had any left. Roland dashed out from behind the boat, ramming his shoulder against a pirate from the other side. Alen observed the fight and sent orders to his undead from his little safe spot. As he did so, he spotted something from the corners of his eyes that caused his pupils to violently constrict. He wasn¡¯t fast enough to dodge¡ªa massive disadvantage from neglecting to increase his physical stats¡ªso he was only able to activate the bone shard inside his sleeves. With a tearing sound, the bone exploded out of the other end, forming a bone spike that tore through his clothes and lacerated the flesh in his arm. Clang! A blade slammed against the new spike, causing it to slam into the new wound, but protecting him from a more tragic fate. Alen screamed as a sharp pain clawed at his mind. His shoulder hit the Galeboat from the impact and he twisted, sending himself sprawling down into the sand below as the pirate¡¯s blade sheared through their boat. He grabbed the spike with the hand of his injured arm and raised it upwards in a block. Another clang rang out as the spike of enhanced enamel defended him from another strike. The sheer force of it numbed his hand, causing his bone spike to fall out of his grip. He looked up, his vision blurry. The sand had gotten into his eyes. ¡°Agh!¡± With a strangled grunt, his back hit the boat once again as a kick drove into his stomach like a truck, sending him reeling. Another strike was coming. Alen forced his body to move, twisting it to plant his feet against their Galeboat. His mana surged into the shards in the soles of his boots. Bang! The blunted tips of the bone spears he¡¯d modified to give him a burst of upward speed slammed against the surface of the boat, violently pushing him forward before falling off his shoes. His shoulders rammed into the pirate¡¯s shin, causing the man to fall forward mid-strike as Alen skidded across the sand. A thud rang out¡ªthe sword had gotten stuck on the surface of the boat. Seeing Alen stand up, the bandit abandoned it and rushed at him with his fists ready. Alen couldn¡¯t keep up with the bandit in speed. He raised his arm and felt the force of a punch explode against it. He grunted and felt his arms numb. He took a step back, and a fist rocked the side of his ribs. He coughed and felt panic rising up. Everything was going in a pace he could process¡ªalmost in slow motion¡ªbut his body wasn¡¯t strong nor quick enough for him to even counter attack. Shit! I have to do something! He thought, feeling something rushing up his throat as his stomach shuddered from a powerful uppercut. His eyes scanned the man¡¯s movements, desperately looking for a chance to make a counter attack. Out of the corner of his vision, he saw Lynn exchanging fire with four archers, while Roland and his two scorpions were held back by about a dozen other pirates. His eyes flashed. He had to do something. His arms fell, exposing his upper body fully. The pirate pulled back his fist and Alen grit his teeth. Bam! Alen¡¯s vision exploded into a shower of sparks as the bandit jabbed at his face. His body flinched, expecting a follow-up, but Alen knew it wouldn¡¯t come. Instead, another sound began to ring out. ¡°AAaaahh!!¡± The man screamed in agony, pulling back his fist that was covered in a virulent necrosis. The decay destroyed the bloating flesh of his fist and gnawed at his bones, opening up a whole new world of agony as the pirate violently scratched at the exposed bones of his hand in a futile attempt to get rid of the decay. Alen looked up at him, his entire face covered in an ugly, hissing black-green ice. Deathchill Touch. The blood dribbling out of his nose turned black and evaporated into a dark mist after coming into contact with the frost. With a scream, Alen rushed at the man with bloodshot eyes, his fist covered in black-green ice. The man barely blocked with his shoulder. The clothes decayed and the skin turned black. He screamed. Alen sent an uppercut at his jaw, feeling the mana in his body surge violently into his fist. Bang! The man was sent back a step, and Alen¡¯s eyes watered as he felt his knuckles crack. He barely held back the scream by breathing through his tightly gritted teeth, but his hand still hung limply by his side. Alen watched as the man¡¯s throat bloated like a frog¡¯s, before deflating as the Deathchill devoured his flesh and blood. The man fell back, grasping at his throat before falling to his knees, then on his face. The pirate was dead, and all too abruptly. Alen felt sticky¡ªlike something was dripping from his entire body, from his chest. He¡¯d just killed someone, and it wasn¡¯t from a distance or a simple command. He¡¯d done it himself; with his own hands. Mana from his kill surged into him.
System Message!
Congratulations! You have passed your sixth mana threshold. You are now at your seventh. This threshold will require an exponentially higher amount of mana to pass.
He looked down at the man in a slight daze, the decay still eating away at the man¡¯s body. For the first time since coming to this world, Alen felt that his power was disgusting. Footsteps were rushing towards his direction. Another two bandits managed to slip away from the fight in order to rush at him. Would his magic rot away at them too? Alen raised his hand, mana flowing into his fingertips as he prepared a Rotfire Bolt. It was almost muscle memory at this point. He¡¯d either fire this attack, or he would die. In order to stay in this world, he had to take away from others. That was Necromancy. A magic to manipulate death¡ªdeaths he himself would cause. There was no undead doing the killing; it was simply him, the Necromancer. Alen felt sticky, like glue was covering his body and weighing it down. His chest felt like it was sinking, falling into a dark pit as blurry faces he didn¡¯t recognize flashed through his mind. The spell manifested as it went through the mana program. A single command at a time. Alen felt the process slow down, until it came to a halt. He removed the limit to the mana he could put into the spell, and then, as time sped back up to normal, he fired it. The black-green flame roared as it exploded out from his palm, taking most of his mana away with it as it formed a gigantic spear of Rotflame the size of a truck. It destroyed the sand below, rotting it away into nothingness and black dust before violently slamming into the two pirates who tried to jump out of the way. It devoured them. Destroyed their flesh, melted their bones, evaporated the mulch. The flames continued to dash forwards, exploding into the side of the pirates¡¯ formation and raking a deathly gash through their ranks. Nothing but dust was left. Alen¡¯s vision blurred. Blood was dripping out of his nose, and his head experienced a pain akin to being pounded by hundreds of hammers. His Nightstalkers, acting by the instincts and muscle memory of the orange strands within them, took advantage of the chaos and weaved into the fray with Roland, killing pirates of various races with ruthless efficiency. Lynn shot a few elemental arrows before jumping down from the spire of rock and running towards Alen. She grabbed his shoulders and stopped him from falling down. Seeing that his eyes were hazy and unresponsive, she picked him up and slung him over her shoulder. She ran back to the boat as Roland and Alen¡¯s two scorpions killed the remaining pirates. She set the necromancer down on the seat and poured one of their remaining potions into his mouth. His wounds started to fix themselves up, but not completely, so she sighed and had him drank another. That would be the last she¡¯d give him. Any more, and these low-quality potions would cause an overdose. Lynn heard shouting. She frowned and looked up to see Roland dashing towards the boat, leaving the remaining undead to deal with the bandits. He jumped on and immediately pulled the lever, the sails flowing downwards and catching the wind to push them forward. She looked at him confusedly. He was covered in blood, some his own, but he wasn¡¯t even taking any potions. He seemed to be in a rush. She tilted her head. ¡°What¡¯s happening?¡± ¡°We have to leave, now. Worst comes to worst, you take the controls Lynn. Snap Alen back into reality. We need him awake,¡± He said, turning the boat around towards a new direction. She nodded and shook Alen. What would questioning Roland further do? It was urgent, so she¡¯d trust him and get it over with. Seeing that Alen was still unresponsive, she slapped him, and his eyes regained a bit of clarity. He groaned and looked at the elf. ¡°W¡­What?¡± He asked, his eyes bloodshot as he looked at Lynn. ¡°Something¡¯s happening. Sit up properly and put on your seatbelt.¡± Alen nodded and strapped it onto himself. He looked at Roland. ¡°Why are we running? Didn¡¯t we beat those pirates..?¡± He finished speaking, before he suddenly frowned and lapsed into somber silence. That sticky-heavy feeling was still there, suddenly made clearer as his mind gained clarity. Alen knew it was clich¨¦, but he ended up wondering whether that man had resorted to banditry because he had, say, a family to support. He wasn¡¯t na?ve enough to think that the world was black and white. It was a whole spectrum of grays and contradictions. Roland opened his mouth to speak, but his voice was drowned out by the sudden roar that exploded out from behind them. The trio was startled and looked back simultaneously to see a gigantic shark the color of gold and sea-green rise up from the sand to devour two pirates. It was easily bigger than even Alen¡¯s column of Rotflame from a while ago. Roland cursed and released the side-sails, speeding them up further as the shark sunk back into the glimmering sands. ¡°What the fuck!¡± Alen shouted, looking back to make sure he¡¯d seen what he¡¯d just seen. A fin slowly rose through the sand, slicing through it like a razor¡ªit was following them. Roland looked at them grimly. ¡°Terrashark. Lynn, take the wheel.¡± She climbed onto the upper part of the boat and gripped the wheel, glancing nervously behind them. The warrior stood behind her and readied his weapons. The approaching creature sped up and Alen felt magic surge in its direction. When he looked back, he saw balls of sand rising up and being brutally compressed into little bullets in the air above the creature hidden in the sand. A second passed. Bang! Roland was suddenly sent flying back as the bullets of earth exploded against his shield, shattering large chunks off of it. He rolled past Lynn and grabbed the edge of the boat, keeping himself on. He clambered back up and felt cold sweat dripping down his forehead, taking his sword into a two-handed grip. He nervously spoke. ¡°When I say turn, jerk the boat to the side exactly a second after. Can you do that, Lynn?¡± She nodded. ¡°I¡¯ll try.¡± Roland¡¯s pupils constricted, then he swept his sword out, slicing one of the fist-sized bullets of sand in half as it shot at him. He was sent a step back from the force, a piece of the compressed sand exploding against the wood of the Galeboat beside his foot. The wood splintered. Alen hurriedly pulled out teeth from his satchel, destroying the strands of consciousness within and editing the purple strands that remained. Roland was shouting directions at Lynn, but he paid it no attention. He configured the strands to turn the bone into simple offensive attacks, using the large amount of mana within the teeth to fuel the explosive burst of the growth process. Another bang rang out. Roland groaned from pain. Finally, Alen finished. He stood up and pointed a tooth at the massive shark beneath the sand and activated the program. A bone spear thrust out, lacking the usual Deathchill augment due to Alen¡¯s low mana reserves. It stabbed into the sand, but it felt like it hit stone, causing the hit to recoil and sending the blunt end against Alen¡¯s chest. The bone dug half a centimeter into the shark¡¯s skin. It roared angrily and sent another volley of sand bullets towards them. ¡°Turn!¡± With a groan from the wood, the boat strained and made a sharp turn, dodging the barrage and nearly throwing its passengers off. The necromancer gritted his teeth and collected most of the shards he had, piling the mana within into a single tooth. He made a quick edit to the purple strand, inserting the spell program of Deathchill Touch within. The strand gained a sliver of black-green in the center. Alen pointed it at the shark again and released the spell, using the mana within the teeth to fuel DT¡¯s activation. It stabbed into the shark, deeper this time as it sunk beyond the surface of the skin. It stuck to the shark, creating drag and slowing it down very slightly as the spike that had thickened to the size of a man¡¯s arm tore through the sand in the shark¡¯s frenzied rush. Roland threw his final metal disc at the Terrashark, dealing no damage, but throwing its tremor sense off and slowing it down further. The Galeboat rushed forward, and in this precarious fashion, they advanced for three hours by taking advantage of obstacles like rocks and canyons to stall their pursuer. Alen felt the wind whipping against his face. It was getting stronger. The shark leaped from the ground, but the necromancer was ready. His staff that was pointed forwards shifted slightly, before it sent a column of Rotfire into the creature¡¯s mouth. It exploded inside the monster¡¯s maw. The Terrashark let loose a pained roar and dived back under the ground to dose the flames. Alen wiped sweat from his brow. His mana was being spent as fast as he could regenerate it. He looked at Roland who was even worse for wear, covered in cuts, blood, and bruises as he tiredly raised his sword. ¡°Why the hell is this thing more persistent than my erections in math class!? Fuck! Get it off!¡± Alen shouted, his mental fatigue too intense to remember his recent murder, replaced by his usual way of adjusting to difficult situations in an effort to momentarily forget. ¡°Just focus on keeping it away, damn it!¡± Lynn shouted, throwing a pencil at him. It harmlessly bounced off his head, and Alen grit his teeth, mustering the mana for another spell as he once again readied his staff. His hair was flogging about everywhere now. The wind was only getting stronger as they neared their destination: The Maelstrom of Dust. Alen was already out of teeth, and was now making due with spare bone shards and spells to slow down the shark. Apparently, they could utilize the strong winds in the maelstrom to speed up their escape, and if they were lucky enough, it would disrupt the monster¡¯s tremor sense. He squinted. Sand was blowing into his eyes. The wind was getting stronger by the second. The wood was creaking, and their boat was only going faster. The monster saw this, and soon, its body was enveloped by a yellow light, pushing the sand away and completely removing the drag its massive body felt. It exploded past the surface of the sand and nearly killed Alen, who was pulled to the side by Lynn. It tore off a chunk of the boat¡¯s hull, adding damage beyond the already destroyed side-sails. It roared and dove under the boat, the reinforced sand-colored hull creaking and vibrating violently as the shark rammed it repeatedly. Alen was getting dizzy. He could barely see with how thick the sandstorm was. For some reason, the wind was getting weaker. Lynn slammed her palm against the wheel in frustration, swapping out with Roland. She grabbed her bow and nocked an arrow, aiming the light-blue arrowhead at the sand below. She released it, and it tore through the sand, hitting the shark with an explosion of frost. A roar of anger came from below. It rammed the boat, sending it a few inches off the ground. Then, it disappeared. Roland frowned and strained to hold the wheel in place. The wind had suddenly picked up. Their sails were groaning. The boat was slightly rising off the ground already. They had to get out, but they¡¯d been caught in a sudden gale of strong wind. Alen sat back down and put on his seatbelt before he opened his mouth to speak. ¡°What the fuck happened to that shar¡ª!¡± BANG! With a thundering boom, the boat¡¯s underside splintered. The shark had rammed against it in full force. It sent the boat upwards, the sails catching even stronger winds. Suddenly, they were flying. The boat had caught the winds. The wood was creaking¡ªshrieking. The pillar of wood holding the elastic sails threatened to snap. They rose higher, higher. Alen didn¡¯t know how long they¡¯d ascended. His mind wasn¡¯t processing things properly. His stomach felt like a heavy object suddenly thrown into the sky. He heard his party mates shouting. His shoulder hurt. The seatbelt was digging into it, almost as if it was trying to gouge the flesh out. They kept rising, until¡­ Sna-a-ap! The sails broke. They began to descend. Their speed only continued to pick up. The boat had completely broken apart, separating his side from Roland and Lynn. Faster, faster, faster. He kept falling, the howling of the wind louder than his screams. Alen saw a blue sky, then sand. Then he saw the ground approaching rapidly. It reached him with the loudest boom Alen had ever heard. A pillar of sand rose into the air. Everything went dark. Book 2, Chapter 8: Alone, Once Again Book 2, Chapter 8: Alone, Once Again
Pain. It was the first sensation Alen awoke to. A lot of it. He sat still, in the darkness, sand filling his vision. The pain was weak at first, a nibble in the corner of his mind. Then it slowly got stronger; more intense. It was like getting pinched now. Alen blinked into consciousness, and then the agony hit him like a truck. He screamed. Pain. A lot of it. Flooding his senses like a broken dam, coursing through his mind with the destructive impact of a tidal wave and the sticky persistence of honey and oil. Moisture filled the corners of his eyes. What was happening!? Alen was suffocating. His lungs were burning as if he wasn¡¯t breathing, even though he was hyperventilating like a wounded mongrel. Pained stutters left his mouth. His robe was bloody, and his head felt like it was hit by a hammer. There was a deafening ring in his ears. In his state, he was barely able to reach out to strand of hope that would give him solace. Mana coursed through his body, depleting less than a tenth of his supply as it completely enveloped his physique. Immediately, the pain numbed, piercing, pinching, nibbling¡­ to almost nothing. He winced, wiping away the moisture flowing down his eyes as his spell took effect. Numb Senses. Alen looked around. Sand and a sky lathered in darkness. He was still strapped to his seat, and wood scraps surrounded his area. Above him was a slope, and a line of sand that had been pushed to the side. It seemed like he¡¯d hit a sandy mound and skidded down, reducing the impact of the fall. The Galeboat was in pieces, the part that came off with him spread out all around the sand in fragments of varying sizes. He looked up, and he saw the ground. The part his seat was attached to was flipped over, jutting out from the sand. Alen observed the area in silence before a stinging sensation returned. Numb Senses was wearing off. He used it again, taking off the portion of mana he¡¯d regenerated. Finally, he slowly turned to look at his arm and paled. It had been impaled by a stray piece of wood, the jagged ends poking out from one end, and out the other. Even as his senses were numbed, blood continued to slowly drip to the ground. Alen¡¯s lips trembled. He had to take it out. His hand reached out towards the wood, grasping it. He was shaking. Sweat was on his brow. Why? He felt no pain, so why was he so afraid? Alen grit his teeth, letting out a miserable sound as he pulled it out in a single swift motion, taking dangling pieces of flesh out with it. The pain pierced through his numbed senses, jolting him in his seat¡ªa sharp sensation as painful as stubbing one¡¯s toe. He felt his stomach churn. Alen saw the hanging pieces of bloodied flesh, along with the crimson stream flowing out of his bicep. Some splashed onto his face. He closed one eye, grunting as he unbuckled the seatbelt. He fell. His blood splattered over the sand. He hurriedly limped off, looking around for his bag. It was nowhere to be found. His bone pouch was missing too. His bloody right hand grabbed the cloth of his robe on his injured left arm and pulled. It tore, and he used it as a makeshift bandage. Blood continued to drip, but it would stop eventually. Alen felt lightheaded. He opened his status.
Status:
Name: Alen Race: Human Type: Necrotic
Health: 28% Stamina: 21% Mana: 93%
Strength: 15 Dexterity: 16 Agility: 14
Constitution: 17 Vitality: 12 Resistance: 15
Intelligence: 27 (++) Wisdom: 35 (+++) Control: 32 (+)
Skills:
Mana Programming, Dominate Undead, Blightbolt, Necrotic Blessing, Numb Senses, Summon Skeletal Minion, Rotfire Blast, Deathchill Touch, Bone Spear
System Applications:
AutoBone
He frowned. His health wasn¡¯t as bad as he thought, but it was in a pretty dire state. If it worked anything like his mana, he would start passing out at anywhere between ten and five percent. Blood loss would probably lower it further, and the lightheaded feeling he was getting did not feel like a good sign. Alen stared at the stat increases. They had increased by more than the usual. Wisdom went up by a good six points, Intelligence five points, and Control four points. Most of his other stats gone up by two instead of one as well. Rotfire Bolt had changed to Rotfire Blast too. Alen suspected this was probably due to the increase to his Intelligence stat, along with the culminated adjustments he¡¯d made to the spell over the past month. Alen hoped that the points in Constitution and Vitality would help fix the wound on his arm faster. He looked around. Not much to the area. He was in some sort of canyon, almost large enough to be considered a valley of sorts, but he couldn¡¯t make out much else because it was night time. He licked his parched lips, allocating another small portion of his mana to keep Numb Senses in effect. By the way his left arm hung limply, Alen guessed that a simple stab wasn¡¯t his only problem. It could be broken, or his shoulder could be dislocated. He considered letting go of Numb Sense¡¯s effect to check, but he decided against it. He didn¡¯t want to feel that pain again. It was¡­ terrifying. He¡¯d never known pain of that level until today, and he never wanted to experience it again. With a small rustle, he limped forward. His shoes almost dragging against the sand. Carelessness couldn¡¯t be tolerated here, Alen knew. He made sure to make use of shadows as cover, staying away from the moonlight that flowed from the sky. Monsters could be anywhere in the Sandsea, and they were especially attracted to bite-sized people-flavored morsels like him. He closed his fist, looking at his tattered robes. He had no bone shards left, and his pouch and bag were missing. The only thing he had left was his watch, which he still refused to take off, and his closest, dearest companion. His phone that was nestled in his pocket. It was all cracked now, and the screen would sometimes bug out, but it was thankfully still functional. Alen mentally promised the phone he would take better care of it. He walked for about two hours, before he encountered the canyon¡¯s first sign of life. He hid behind a rock, his repressed breaths sounding all too loud as he glanced at the creature in front of him. It was a massive sand viper, one of the many that gathered around the Sandsea. He¡¯d encountered one before with Roland and Lynn, and it was taken care of easily thanks to Roland¡¯s shockwave-based attacks that bypassed the defense of its powerful scales. Alen felt all too vulnerable without his bone pouch, and he erased all thoughts of getting even ten meters near that giant slithering mass of excessively tanky shit. The snake slipped into a large gap within the canyon wall, looking for any insect monsters to eat. He waited for a few minutes. Alen let out a relieved sigh and slowly walked off from his hiding spot, carefully walking past the gap the snake had disappeared into. He wasn¡¯t looking forward to meeting that thing again any time soon. He glanced at his mana pool. Numb senses was taking quite the amount, but he could manage with his current regen rate. His mana was perpetually hovering over eighty percent. The wound in his left arm was swelling, but it had stopped bleeding at the very least. Alen hoped his stats would fix his presumably broken arm. He didn¡¯t want to end up as a cripple. Finally, he found a small gap in the canyon wall and crawled into it, making sure nothing was going to jump out at him. He sat down and bumped the back of his head against the wall, letting out an exasperated sigh. He opened up his status again, and opened up his party chat with Lynn and Roland. He pressed the button and sent a voice message. He waited. Nothing. Lynn mentioned before that it would stop working after a certain distance, but he recalled that distance to be quite large, meaning he was a long ways away from his party. ¡°Well, it¡¯s decided. I¡¯m fucked,¡± He muttered, looking dejectedly at his injured arm. He still couldn¡¯t move it. Alen¡¯s finger hovered over the chat room his friends were in, but before he could press it, he was suddenly submerged thousands of meters into the ocean. A freezing sensation caused the hairs in his body to stand up, and his lungs forgot how to breathe. A terrible pressure assaulted him from all directions, as if trying to compress him into a tiny speck. Alen looked out of the hole leading out of his hiding spot. He wasn¡¯t under the ocean, no. This was¡­ the pressure of being near a being leagues above yourself. He¡¯d felt it before, when he¡¯d met Alexandrius. This was different. It was crushing, domineering, a whole level of terror assaulting every cell in his body and telling him to run. He couldn¡¯t run. He couldn¡¯t move. His body felt like it wanted to shut down and die, simply to avoid the experience of meeting whatever was outside. Slowly, the pressure intensified, and the world outside trembled. Alen saw scales slither past his hiding spot, each one as large as his own body.The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. Finally, it paused. It moved down, and a humongous yellow eye peered into the darkness of his hiding spot. Slitted, its pupils pierced through the darkness to stare straight at him. He trembled uncontrollably, staring straight into the glowing yellow orb that was gazing back at him. His entire body was sweating profusely; a shaking, terrified mess. After what seemed like an eternity, the eyes disappeared¡ªthe owner deciding that a petty creature like himself wasn¡¯t worth the effort. Finally, the creature slithered away, its scales disappearing from sight. Alen collapsed against the wall, gasping for breath and feeling like he was about to pass out. He looked fearfully at the outside, the familiar feeling of fear entering his heart. It got stronger, until the scar in his palm burned with pain, as if to remind him of something. Alen gripped his fist so hard his knuckles turned white. He suppressed the fear. Not again. He would not come back to that miserable state a second time. What the hell was that thing? He shuddered, shivering at the cold sweat lining his back. This place was definitely not normal, he concurred. He had to be extra careful from now on, lest he leave this place as a pile of dung after being eaten alive by some monster. He let out a breath, forcing a smile onto his face as he recalled old jokes. He had to stay rooted. Rooted. Grasping at the straws of juvenile humor in his head, he laughed to keep his feet on the ground. It was slightly forced, but it was good enough. Alen felt the weight in his chest drain out, replaced by a shallow emptiness as he stared outside. ¡°Back to square one,¡± He mumbled. Just when he¡¯d finally found companions, he got separated from them. How the hell was he supposed to find them now? Worst of all, he had no teeth or shards to defend himself with, while his mana was constantly at eighty percent due to his efforts in keeping up Numb Senses. Alen winced at the sight of his bicep. There was no way he could go to sleep and maintain Numb Senses at the same time. He stood up, peeking out at the branching paths of the canyon outside. One route was messy, the rocks and sand disturbed by a massive creature. Alen immediately ruled it out. Three more were presented to him. The gap the viper had crawled into a while ago, forward, or back to where he came from. Alen debated with himself for a moment before deciding to head forward. Nothing but a wreck was waiting for him, and his staff was most likely not anywhere near the wreck. He¡¯d done a cursory check a while ago, and found that it had been blown away with his bag and bone pouch. Cuck was nowhere to be found either, but Alen felt the connection was still present. The little bone chicken wasn¡¯t close enough for him to be able to command it, but the necromancer hoped that it was at least in the general area. Cuck could be his equivalent of Wilson, and more importantly, a new supply of bones. It would be easy to regenerate a few spare shards if he managed to find his first summon. He creeped forward once again, recalling the advice Sam once gave him. He¡¯d tested it before with Rotfire and Deathchill; the fact that he wasn¡¯t limited to a single type of mana. The difference now however, was that he had to conjure some without mixing in Necrotic mana. The mana inside his body was pure, and he simply had to select the correct flavor of mana-mix to throw in. The problem was, some bits of necrotic flavoring would occasionally mix in, so he had to filter it out first. Alen concentrated, the feeling of manipulating mana without a program causing him to furrow his brow. Inside of him, his mind slowly removed the necrotic mana inside the other ¡®flavors¡¯ of what he was now calling mana-mix as he walked. Eventually, he sighed in relief. There were an unexpectedly massive amount of types of mana he could utilize, and even more seemed to be out there for him to discover. Alen didn¡¯t bother cleaning all of them. His focus was only on a single element. Finally, he held his palm out in front of him and separated a portion of the pure mana inside of him. Carefully, he changed it to the nature of the recently purified version of water-element mana. He channeled it, and with a slight sloshing sound, a ball of water the size of a person¡¯s head floated above his palm. Alen pursed his lips at the amount. He used a bit too much mana, he guessed. With a shrug he drank from the ball of water, the cool fluids flowing down his parched throat. This was all he could do with the water mana, and he¡¯d need a program to make anything else with it, but it served its purpose. He could now spare some mana to drink water. It had a cost, though. If his mana¡¯s conversion rate for necrotic mana was 1:1, Alen felt that the water element was around 1:3. Still, due to his high Wisdom stat, along with Control and Intelligence, he didn¡¯t have to spend a lot of mana or effort to be able to conjure a ball of water. If he made an attack spell program purely through using water mana though, he guessed it would take a disgusting amount of magic for it to be able to reach the power of a single Rotfire Bolt. He paused. It was Rotfire Blast now. The system had changed the name of the spell, but Alen doubted it messed with his program at all. It probably meant that his spell was now strong enough to be a tier higher than it was previously, enough for a name change, supposedly. Alen wondered how strong it would be now. He contemplated shooting it off at a random wall, but he was afraid of any ruckus it could potentially cause. After all, this place was full of dangerous shit, and while he was confident in being able to fend a couple of them off with a few spells, it would drain his mana to dangerous levels. That wasn¡¯t even considering the monsters that would head towards the direction of the battle afterward. This wouldn¡¯t be easy. Alen frowned. He needed to find a lone monster, then dispose of it quickly and loot its remains for spare pieces of chitin before escaping the area fast enough to avoid getting mobbed. He nodded to himself. Better to risk a situation he had a degree of control in than be left open in an unexpected fight without any summons, which were effectively half of his combat capacity. He moved around in the darkness of the night, using various spots for cover. The path forked to the left, and he followed, before entering a crevice of sorts that led onto a basin-like part of the canyon. The center held an oasis of sorts, surrounded by plants that looked like coconut trees. Moonlight sprinkled onto the clear water below, giving it a mesmerizing radiance. Near the water, a single animal lied down¡ªasleep. Alen crept closer and spotted a large, furred creature. It had the head of a female lion with a massive underbite, the lower teeth jutting out to cover the front teeth like jagged sword tips. It slept soundly, the two tails behind it lying still on the ground as it laid its head on its scaly, dragon-like front paws. The necromancer stared at it, thinking. From where he was, he didn¡¯t feel any pressure that denoted the creature was much stronger than he was, but the feeling he got from it was bone-chilling. He gritted his teeth and crept closer, his mana reaching out of his fingertips like an almost transparent black-green string. The strand approached it, and Alen felt it. Mana. Repressed. Powerful¡ªno, incredibly powerful mana. It felt like an inferno, suppressed within every inch of skin, muscle, and bone within the beast¡¯s body as if waiting to burst out. It wasn¡¯t as strong as Alexandrius, but it was damn close. Alen clenched his fist, hurriedly destroying the strand of mana lest he notify the sleeping creature of his presence. With hurried steps, he snuck out of the oasis, mentally marking its location inside his head. When he had the chance, he¡¯d come back. Something about the water in that basin felt¡­ different. The color was a blue so clear it didn¡¯t even seem like normal water. No, Alen felt it along with the monster¡¯s aura. The water had mana infused into it, and Alen was sure that it would give him a lot of XP if he drank from it. At least, he hoped so. It made sense, seeing as how a powerful beast was sleeping next to it, he figured that the oasis played a part in making it as strong as it was. He nodded to himself, skulking deeper into the canyon. As he went forward, his encounters with other creatures¡ªnamely giant bugs¡ªbecame more frequent, prompting him to take extra care in everything he did. Alen stopped at one point, and decided to turn back, taking another path leading to the side instead, because of the fact that the amount of monsters in his direction forward was increasing. Finally, after another hour of walking, he noticed a single beetle feasting on the carcass of what looked to be a praying mantis. The beetle was an inky green, and its sharp mandibles tore pieces off of the mantis¡¯s flesh. Alen let out a sigh of relief. He recognized the bug. They¡¯d encountered one on the way to the town where they encountered Alexandrius. It was hiding inside a concealed wall in the canyon. The bug had the ability to create thin layers of earth to disguise its lair, and when they¡¯d passed its home, it had burst out and attacked the three of them. It was called Froghorn Beetle, because of its throat that would bloat outwards like a frog¡¯s before it would spit out a petrifying mist. It was as strong as someone on the ninth threshold, but its intelligence made it an easier opponent than the mana in its body would suggest. Alen got as close to the bug as he could, before he pointed his palm at the creature. Mana gathered in his hand, coating his entire forearm in black-green flames. He was stuck staring at it for a moment, recalling the faces of the bandits he¡¯d incinerated with the spell just a day ago. He shook his head as the stinging sensation of his wounded arm returned. He numbed his senses around that area, pushing away the dark thoughts in his mind. He¡¯d start being a bitch about morals when he had the luxury of not worrying about death. Right now, it was time to see how powerful Rotfire Blast had become. The mana in his hand intensified, slithering down his forearm to cover his entire hand in a thick layer of Rotflame. The mana was condensed the most it could with the current program, and with a mental command from the necromancer¡­ the spell was released! A violent sound exploded out from his right hand, fifteen percent of his mana draining away as a cone of flames exploded towards the beetle. It sensed the monstrous mana and turned, only to get engulfed in the torrent of black-green flames. Alen immediately rushed in, his injured arm flailing behind him as he gathered a large amount of mana in his hands to create a super-powered Blightbolt. The strategy was relatively simple. Use Rotfire to melt away at the beetle¡¯s defenses, then use Blightbolt to tear away at its insides. His figure blurred into the still-raging flames. His hand reached out, a pained screech came from within the flames. Alen saw the flames give way. An attack was coming. He was far enough to dodge. He bent hid torso and slid under the horn the beetle had swept to the side. His legs bent, a show to his lack of dexterity, the maneuver had sent him off balance. He rolled under the beetle, wincing with a grunt as he irritated the wound on his left arm. He raised his right hand and fired the spell. The blight exploded into the beetle¡¯s exposed flesh, draining away at the life within the muscle and turning it into what looked like rotten beef jerky. Alen gasped in pain as one of the beetle¡¯s sharp legs cut his side, a part of his body without Numb Senses in effect. He grit his teeth. Alen¡¯s hand shot out like a viper, covered in a malevolent black ice. It sunk into the monster¡¯s wounds. He clenched his fist against part of the blighted muscle tissue. It bloated. Bloated like a balloon. Sklurt! The bloated flesh exploded, spraying rotting green blood into Alen¡¯s face as the necrosis brutally ate away at the giant insect¡¯s flesh. It screeched, opening its wings and flying away with unsteady movements. Black-green flame covered its body. It bounced off a wall, sending dust everywhere. The rot ate away at its wings. It crashed into the sand a few meters away, limping forward as a festering wound ate away at the inside of its head¡ªtowards its brain. Finally, quietly, it slumped to the ground, the life leaving its body. Alen ran up to it and immediately conjured Rotflame into his right hand. He winced at the persistent stinging of his injured arm. The hand clasped against the middle of the beetle¡¯s horn, the Rotfire melting away at the chitin. The horn¡¯s meter-long tip snapped off, and the required strands of consciousness gathered within it. Alen held it tightly in his hand before running off. He dived into one of the many crevices burrowed into the canyon wall and took the horn inside with him. Scampering in, he leaned against the wall and looked outside. He waited. Nothing. A sigh of relief left his mouth. It looked like no other monsters had been attracted by the fight. He checked his mana. Forty-four percent. He nodded to himself and reapplied Numb Senses, before conjuring a large glob of water in his hands. He gingerly cleaned the wound with it, whimpers leaking out of his mouth as Numb Senses failed to completely dull the pain assaulting his brain. He was trembling, and his vision was blurring. Finally, he finished. Alen breathed heavily, looking at the cloth he had cleaned and one again wrapped over his wound. He stared at the remaining water floating over his palm and willed it to splash all over his body. His robe turned to a darker shade as it got wet, the water flowing out of the little crevice along with bits of green and red blood. He winced at the wound on his side. It was thankfully quite shallow, but it quite frankly stung a fuck-lot. Alen repressed the desire to allocate mana in order to numb the wound. His reserves were low already, hovering at about thirty or so percent. He hadn¡¯t used Blightbolt in a while, and his neglect to increasing its mana efficiency showed with how much magic it used up. Rotfire Blast was a monster as well, completely destroying the beetle¡¯s natural armor at the cost of nearly a fifth of his mana reserves. He¡¯d increased the mana used to fuel the spell to make it stronger, but he expected it to only take ten percent at most. That just went to show how much he needed to improve his magic. Alen looked at his wounds with bloodshot eyes. These were becoming a problem, and they were only going to get worse now that he lacked Roland to tank for him. He wasn¡¯t skilled enough in controlling his undead to be able to guarantee the same amount of safety Roland had provided him and Lynn, so he had to find another way to solve the problem. Alen didn¡¯t want to risk waiting for the wounds to heal naturally, so he was just going to make them heal faster. He clenched his fists and let out a breath, opening up the spell program for Blightbolt. It still made use of his old mana-programming method, which involved using PHP commands like loops and if-statements. He was going to revamp the spell completely with his developing mana-programming language to create a spell that was long due. It was time to create a life-drain spell. Book 2, Chapter 9: Spell Improvement Book 2, Chapter 9: Spell Improvement
[Alen] The Stoneskin Rat was a relatively small creature, native to the Sandsea and other desert regions within the continent of Redaria. Standing roughly seven inches tall on its hind legs, it observed its prey¡ªa small, blue insect. It stalked closer, darting behind a rock and peeking its small head out. Its little nose twitched fervently as it approached, the scent of the tantalizing blue insect filling its primitive senses with joy. It stopped behind a stone just a distance away. Power gathered in its hind legs. Finally, with a little squeak, it sprung. Teeth tore into the insect. Claws held it pinned to the ground. Its juicy green blood spurted out, splashing onto the tongue of the satisfied rat. The rat gorged on the insect for another second before pausing. Why wasn¡¯t this insect resisting? It tilted its head. Did its teeth gain the power to kill bugs instantly? The rat licked up the juices and nibbled at the insect some more, reveling in the newfound discovery of its insect-annihilating buck teeth as it cackled in the rat-equivalent of joyous laughter. It would save some of the insect, even. It could feed its children with pride tonigh¡ª Sand all around the rat burst upwards, creating an inky-green box of insect chitin that trapped it within. The rat jumped, terrified. It clawed at the walls, but the chitin wasn¡¯t even scratched. It grit its teeth and readied its strongest attack¡ªthe insect slaughtering tooth! With a little screech, the teeth helplessly bounced off the box of insect chitin, doing as much damage as its claws did, which was to say, none. The rat stared in horror. The top of the inky-green box opened, and a pair of emerald eyes stared in to look at the rat. The eyes flashed, glowing for a brief second before the walls all around the rodent suddenly bubbled into rapid motion, encasing everything but its head inside of a sturdy, mana-enforced chitin. The rat screeched in indignation, exerting its strength to the fullest in an attempt to break out. Its efforts proved futile. A finger reached into the box, and the rat snapped at it in anger. ¡°Fuck!¡± Alen cursed, waving his wounded finger about and narrowing his eyes at the rat. ¡°If I get AIDS or Herpes from this wound, I¡¯ll turn you into a walking, dick-shaped, skeleton rat.¡± It squeaked derisively at him, and he grit his teeth. Alen gathered mana at the tip of his finger, adding a projectile property to a temporarily edited version of Numb Senses. It would weaken the effect, but Alen refused to believe his skill couldn¡¯t incapacitate a lowly rodent. The spell shot forward, before blowing over the rat¡¯s head like smoke. His spell didn¡¯t seep into the rat¡¯s body, but was instead repelled, flowing out of the box like the black plumes of a chimney. Alen noticed a sheen of light surrounding the rat¡¯s fur like a second layer of skin. He frowned. This thing was magic resistant. Alen gathered mana into his hand, using a little bit more than a percent of his total reserves¡ªalmost thrice of what he had just used. Conjuring Numb Senses into a projectile once again, it shot forward and sunk into the rat. The rodent immediately displayed a dazed expression, as if it had just awoken from a deep slumber. The necromancer nodded to himself and touched the rat¡¯s head with his finger once again. His mana flowed into its skull, and for the first time since coming to Redaria, he observed a living creature with his magic. Alen¡¯s mana coursed through it, creating a sort of 3D image in his mind. All over the rat¡¯s body, green motes of energy coursed through it, cycling around its physique and looping back into the mass of glowing multicolored strands inside of its skull. He nodded. There were more strands than the ones he found on recently killed subjects, and now, there were even motes of green light he had never seen before. Alen glanced back at the inky-green beetle protectively blocking the path towards him and nodded once again. He turned his attention back to the rat. The new strands inside the mass were more¡­ emotional. It was conscious. While his summons took the part of the consciousness that was for processing bodily inputs and commands, he wasn¡¯t utilizing, say, the summon¡¯s soul. Memories, feelings, and experiences were different from the cold, detached ability to process. It was what made his undead more effective killers. Instinct to fight, purple strands to regenerate bones, and the emotionless part of the conscious that forced the body to move. He moved through the new strands of consciousness one by one, feeling different emotions course into his chest. Fear, helplessness, and a desperate want to survive. These were the rat¡¯s current feelings. Alen frowned, going through more of the strands within. Inside his chest, he gained a vague feeling. Somehow, he knew the rat had children. He knew where it lived, where it slept, what it ate. Alen felt lost inside of the rat¡¯s soul, and he felt himself losing a grasp of what he was¡ªa human. He gritted his teeth and forcefully severed the thread of mana that connected him to the rodent. He fell back and landed on his ass, blinking as his eyes adjusted to the familiar sight of the canyon. What¡­ was that..? He dazedly wondered, glancing at the box in amazement. For a moment, he was the rat. It felt like the images in his head wouldn¡¯t stop until he saw the little rodent¡¯s entire life play out with his own eyes. He conjured a ball of water with his mana and drank, the cool liquid flowing down his throat. He let out a sigh. No more ruffling through the rat¡¯s memories. He stood up, and touched the rat¡¯s head again, making sure to avoid the colorful core of the mass of strands. He searched through the outer layer¡ªthe subconscious part of the rat. The places in charge of running organs, repairing damaged bone and tissue¡­ He stopped. These weren¡¯t what he was looking for. Alen stopped and observed the furry creature again, before suddenly remembering the motes of green light that coursed through its little body. He sent his mana down from its head, probing the green lights with it. Immediately, a feeling of vitality surged into his chest, seemingly wiping away a small bit of the fatigue he felt. The necromancer blinked his emerald eyes in surprise. Perfect, he thought. Alen wrapped his mana around a part of the flowing green motes, before extracting it from the rat. Immediately, it looked to have visibly thinned, the previously plump rat looking like it had eaten scarcely over the course of a week. He felt a little bad as he sent the green motes into his body. He¡¯d give the rat a few bugs later. Suddenly, as the lights covered in his mana sunk into his body, he felt an itchy, tingling sensation around his wounds. It was extremely weak, but it didn¡¯t seem to be affected by Numb Senses. He felt a grin creep onto his face. He¡¯d found it. Moving about to collect the dead blue bugs he scattered around the area, he dropped them into the box. The chitin encasing the rat receded, and so did the walls, the rot properties of the mana within causing the small black-green box to disintegrate into fine black sand. He nodded to himself. ¡°Okay,¡± Alen breathed out. He went back inside his temporary hiding spot, a gap between two large boulders and dangling, shriveled weeds, and started editing his mana program for Blightbolt. He¡¯d changed it to function with his new mana programming language the night before, and now, a few more tweaks was all he needed to succeed in creating a prototype for his life drain spell. He kept the projectile property of the spell, but changed it like his newly edited version of Rotfire Blast, which concentrated power into a smaller, basketball-sized projectile that exploded upon contact instead of that excessively destructive cone of Rotflame. Not only did it save him more mana, it also increased how effective the spell was in general. Now, his eyes were set on creating two version of his drain spell that he could switch from freely. A projectile that exploded to become a storm of life drain in order to provide a surge of health, and a constant, beam of magic that steadily drained vitality over time. As he¡¯d already finished the concept over another sleepless night, he didn¡¯t have to spend much time checking it for flaws in the final program. Alen left his cubby hole, and with a snap of his fingers, his skeletal beetle. It was his only undead at the moment, but now that he wasn¡¯t traveling anymore, Alen planned to keep them summoned until he reached the capacity he could control. ¡°Let¡¯s go,¡± He told the beetle, which of course, didn¡¯t respond. The two moved forward, with the necromancer taking a safe position a few steps behind the beetle. Due to their relatively deep position within the canyon, or at least what Alen considered deep, encountering other monsters wasn¡¯t very hard. Alen hid behind a rock and ordered his beetle to climb the walls of the canyon. The animated shell of inky-green chitin latched onto the walls and stalked forward, staring down at a centipede below. The thousand-legged creature was strange, but dangerous. The blue shell on its back was constantly in wriggling motion, looking very much like running water. It had a practice of hiding under the sand and luring over thirsty prey, before incapacitating and killing them with the neurotoxin dripping from its wickedly sharp mandibles. It snapped threateningly at the undead beetle above, clattering its legs in excitement. Alen felt his skin crawl. Creepy. He gripped the scar on his left palm, before letting out a breath and pointing his hand at the centipede. Clasped in his palm was a shard of inky green chitin, hissing with a black-green fog due to the excessive amounts of mana compressed within. Alen immediately ordered his undead to jump, and the beetle followed. It fell quickly, the horn on its head aimed at the centipede¡¯s head. Simultaneously, the necromancer released the Bone Spike spell he had within the piece of chitin. It exploded forward, a massive spike of reinforced insect exoskeleton stabbing out at the evading centipede. Alen felt it connect. The centipede was skewered through the side, and with a splurt, green blood spurted out as the beetle scratched it with its horn. The beetle immediately pivoted its body to the side and rammed the creature. The centipede twisted it¡¯s body. The two tails at the end lashed at the undead. The beetle crashed into the canyon wall, but came out relatively unscathed and managed into inflict another wound on the eighth-threshold centipede with its horn. The insect wailed in a cacophony of high-pitched screeches. Alen watched it tear out a piece of the beetle¡¯s face with its mandibles. It encircled the undead, wrapping around it. The beetle thrashed, but it was futile. Alen grinned and activated a spell. Necrotic Blessing: Deathchill. A screech of agony surged out of the centipede¡¯s mouth as it backed up, the rot sinking into the unprotected flesh of its underside. With a bang, the undead beetle slammed into the wall, eliciting a pained screech from the thousand-legged monster. Its horn stabbed forward, and with a squeal of agony, the centipede thrashed around futilely, but ultimately stayed pinned to the canyon wall. Alen approached it, but kept himself a safe distance from its thrashing pointed legs and sharp mandibles. His beetle¡¯s shell was hard enough to be unaffected by the legs, but he wasn¡¯t. Stretching his arm forward, he activated the prototype. Slowly, a tendril of black-green mana reached out and pierced the centipede, but it did not do damage, and instead looked as if it phased right through the carapace. As soon as it sunk a few inches deeper, the centipede began to wail in pained rage. It bucked its body wildly as green motes of light were sucked iut of its shell and traveled through the thread, before entering Alen¡¯s body. The latter¡¯s forehead was drenched in sweat, his eyes scanning the blue screen before him as he constantly edited the spell.Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon. Some of the motes of light would fade as it traveled, and keeping up the connection used up an obnoxious amount of mana. Using the constant use, Alen spotted the errors faster and worked to correct them one by one. He felt an uncomfortable itching in his wounds¡ªwounds that were repairing themselves. The flesh wriggled and writhed, connecting to the other side in an effort to recover. Within half a minute, the wound on his side had fully healed, and the one on his arm was already beginning to start itching as it was repaired. Finally, with a gasp, Alen canceled the spell, falling to his knees and sucking in a breath of air. Every time the motes of light entered him, he felt an intense discomfort, as if a whole arm was forcing its way down his throat to grab at his heart. He looked at the centipede. It didn¡¯t look much different, but it looked to have weakened a little from his life drain spell and its incessant struggling. It hissed at him, spitting out harmless fluids from its mouth as each of its legs repeatedly clattered against the beetle¡¯s inky-green shell. Alen looked at his bicep and sighed. He¡¯d need a lot more of those lights if he wanted to fully regenerate his arm to normal condition. His mana was currently at around sixty-four percent, nearly a whole fifth of his mana pool drained away by his prototype life drain magic. Alen managed to fix numerous little errors and revised a few lines during his use, but he was sure the errors wouldn¡¯t end there. There was still a lot more he had to fix for the spell to get into a useable state. Wasn¡¯t there any other way to¡ª A shrill screech interrupted his train of thought. Alen frowned and looked to the side, only to spot a group of ants scuttling their way towards him. Each was as large as a hand, and the approaching mass looked like a wave of sand waiting to swallow him up. He didn¡¯t feel too much panic. The ants were strong due to their numbers, and usually dominated even monsters like the centipede, but unlike said centipede, Alen had spells of mass annihilation. Well, for ants anyways. He pointed his palm at them, preparing to cast the cone-shaped variant of Rotfire Blast when a thought popped into his head. Wasn¡¯t this a perfect opportunity to use his life drain spell¡¯s alternative form? Changing the mana program operating the mass of mana in his hand, a trick he recently figured out how to accomplish, Alen saw a black-green ball of mist gather in front of his outstretched palm. It continued to drain mana, until Alen winced as it reduced his capacity by thirty percent. His current spells were monsters in mana consumption, but when he managed to compress and increase their quality by enough, reducing the ¡®processing power¡¯ needed to run the mana program, he would have a devastating arsenal of spells at his disposal. Finally, with a whoosh, the ball of mist sped forward and splashed into the mass of insects with a silent roar. Immediately, a large amount of ants let out miserable screeches as their bodies crumpled like dried weeds. The mist changed with every mote of light drained from the ants, looking like a patch of the night sky full of twinkling green lights. It began to gather onto itself, turning back into a ball full of compressed mana and vitality. It shot towards Alen and slammed into his chest. A part of the mana he used for the spell returned to him, and he immediately let out a sound of surprise when the wound on his left arm stung as if he had just drunk a potion. ¡°Agh!¡± He gritted his teeth, taking a step back. The flesh inside his wound rapidly knitted together, eliciting a sharp pain that Alen was familiar with. The regeneration came to a sudden stop. Alen looked up and glanced at the retreating mass of ants before turning to the still-pinned centipede. He killed it with a weakened Rotfire Blast to the head, then he used his beetle to snap a piece of the insect¡¯s carapace off (with the required strands inside, of course. He wasn¡¯t in that much of a rush), along with one of its long legs. Alen turned around, and then he ran from the scene of the fight. A new monster might come up at any moment, and Alen didn¡¯t want to risk a third encounter with his current mana reserves. His arm lugged on behind him. The flesh was significantly repaired, but the bone was probably still fractured. Alen entered his hiding spot and hauled the centipede¡¯s leg in with him. With a grunt, he heaved it onto a table made via AutoBone and beetle chitin, before sitting down with a sigh on a somewhat shabby chair designed the same way. Two of his objectives had been satisfied. First, his life drain spell was confirmed to be functional, and when Alen got it to manageable levels of mana-consumption, he¡¯d let the system acknowledge it as a spell in his list. Secondly¡­ Alen stared at the centipede¡¯s leg and felt his stomach gurgle out a complaint. He shook his head. No. He was not going to starve to death. His stomach had to stop being a little bitch for both of their sakes. He closed his eyes and manipulated his mana, finding the flame element for his mana-mix. Focusing all his efforts on cleansing it of Necrotic mana, he managed to completely clear it of the black-green element in a bit less than two hours. Alen wiped the sweat from his brow and conjured a clear, blue flame in his hand. He was spending less mana on Numb Senses, and what he¡¯d used up a while ago had already been restored, so he didn¡¯t worry about the cost of such a little flame. He nodded his head and extinguished it. Alen walked outside and had his undead beetle snap the thing layer of carapace around the limb. He waltzed back inside his cubby hole 2.0 and lit the flame over his hand once again, carefully roasting the insect meat that he¡¯d acquired. It dripped with green blood, but he made extra sure not to get any of it on his already tattered robe. Finally, with a final whoosh, the flame in his hand disappeared. Alen laid the meat on the table and assessed it. It had browned nicely, and although it lacked seasoning, it gave off an enticing smell. To make extra sure he wasn¡¯t going to die after eating the meat, Alen took the time to catch another Stoneskin Rat. He coaxed the little bastard into eating the meat, and observed it for half an hour inside the chitin-box he¡¯d used to trap it. Seeing that the rat wasn¡¯t wailing miserably on the verge of death, Alen shrugged and rushed back into the cubby hole, before he ravenously devoured the meat on the inky-green table. It was a bit bland, with a trace of sweetness, but the arm-sized cylinder of meat sated his hunger by quite a lot. Alen let out a sigh and leaned back into the chair, staring at the light of the sun outside his literal man-cave. It was probably still around an hour or two past noon, and the heat was especially prevalent in the canyon outside. There were surprisingly a lot of trees and plant life scattered about, but not nearly enough to make up for the Sandsea¡¯s scorching rays. Even worse, in this side of the Sandsea, Alen felt that it was even hotter than normal. He shook his head and looked back down at himself. It was time to get to work. Again. He infused a large amount of mana into the centipede¡¯s piece chitin, making it ready for summoning. Then, he opened up the programs for his new life drain spell, Rotfire Bolt, and Summon Skeletal Minion. As he worked on decreasing the mana-cost of the three spells, Alen let his thoughts wander. Now that Lynn and Roland were far away, he was able to fully experience getting the maximum amount of XP for a kill. Usually, it would be split into a 2:1:1 ratio, with the highest amount going to the person that landed the killing blow, but now, he was essentially receiving double that amount. Alen knew Necromancy would fully show its potential in this canyon. While he was trapped in here, Alen planned to summon undead up until his max capacity, then use his little army to wipe out as many bugs as possible. It would not only give him the needed experience of controlling more than a dozen undead at once, but it would also let him pass mana thresholds at a speed that he¡¯d never reached before. Time passed relatively quickly. His eyes scanned the programs and fixed errors, along with constantly compressing the blocks of commands in order to lessen the mana cost. Alen¡¯s legs would feel numb every now and then, so he stood up and did a few stretches, along with a few light exercises within the man-cave. Apparently, those would help his physical stats grow by just a little each threshold, but the effects would truly show when he reached higher levels. He continued for another two hours, while simultaneously creating a new spell based heavily on Bone Spear. He¡¯d be hunting for dinner soon, and this time, he wanted to taste some Giant Sand Viper. For that, he needed some spells that didn¡¯t outright destroy his food. Finally, with a slap of his knee, he stood up and looked outside. It was getting dark soon. He threw down a piece of blue chitin and activated the spell contained within. The giant centipede formed and curled around him protectively, edited by AutoBone to have sharper, barbed legs, a thicker carapace, two mouths, and a back covered in sharp spurs. He got on a seat he¡¯d designed onto its back and ordered it forward. He grinned. A snake was getting skinned tonight. A blast of Rotflame exploded against the canyon wall, decaying rock and stone as it sent an avalanche of boulders into the path of a Sand Viper below. It twisted its body, agilely weaving through the falling horde of boulders unscathed. It curled around one of the rocks, the its mouth opened to spit out a glob of green fluid. The emerald-eyed young man chasing after the serpent saw this and raised his arm, a black-green spur ejecting out from inside his sleeve to form a shield-shaped piece of chitin that shot forwards to meet the dollop of acid. The piece of chitin was immediately destroyed, and the young man waved his arm downwards like a clap of thunder as a boom exploded out from above the canyon. A beetle shot down and slammed into the snake, the two bodies competing in a match of strength. The necromancer hopped off from the giant centipede he was riding and set it forward. He gathered mana in his right hand and soon, a large ball of necrotic mist had formed. Alen pushed his palm forward, and with a soundless scream, the ball of mist lunged forward into a tendril that phased right through the snake¡¯s thick scales. The latter bit into the beetle¡¯s head, tearing it clean off and sending the lifeless mass of chitin collapsing down. It was given no room to breathe, however. The centipede surged in and bit the snake¡¯s neck, with both of the combatants hissing madly at the other. Thick, red blood splattered into the sand as the centipede¡¯s sharp legs repeatedly stabbed into the snake¡¯s skin. Shallow wounds built up, and blood flowed almost incessantly. As the two large creatures fought, Alen ran towards the corpse of the beetle and infused the still-remaining pieces of consciousness into a piece of beetle chitin he had inside his robe. Depositing forty percent of his mana into the piece, he threw it down, and within seconds, the beetle had reformed to surge back into the fight. Sweat poured down Alen¡¯s face. In front of him were two blue screens, a status that told him about his rapidly draining mana, and one where he debugged the spell program of the life drain spell. Dust rose into the air. The beetle had hauled and thrown the snake into the cliffside with its horn. With another boom, the centipede lunged, wrapping itself around the snake and eating away at the scaled creature¡¯s flesh. The giant snake was rapidly weakening, both from its wounds, and the thread of mist that was draining the green motes of life from its body. Finally, with another thrust off the inky-green beetle¡¯s horn, the snake¡¯s body spasmed, before ultimately falling limp. Alen closed the spell program and forced down the awful feeling in his throat and stomach. It appeared whenever he cast the life drain spell, but he could tell his body was adapting to it. Alen guessed that by the time he perfected its first version, he would no longer feel discomfort from using it. He approached the corpse of the snake, ordering his skeletal centipede to rip out the flesh. Alen took a sample of both the scales and the bones, before ordering the centipede to pile the gathered flesh onto the beetle¡¯s back. Seeing that all he needed to accomplish was done, Alen got on the back of the centipede and rushed out of the area, afraid of encountering any more foes. He refreshed the duration of Numb Senses on his arm and checked his mana. It was around twenty percent. He sighed. Mana was an ever-present problem that plagued him. When was he going to have the leisure of spamming spells as much as he wanted? Idle thoughts passed through his head as he traveled back to his secluded spot. Soon, he had returned, and his mana had regenerated back to fifty percent. Alen conjured a flame and immediately cooked the snake¡¯s meat. He gorged on it, feeling even more ravenous when he realized this was his first meal in almost two days. It was nothing compared to what he experienced in his first week inside the forest, but that was another level of risk and danger he never wanted to feel again. A large part of the meat was left uneaten, and Alen grit his teeth as he completely destroyed it with a wave of Rotflame. Hunting for another meal the next day was better than risking being found by the apex predators of the area. Most would come out during the night, and Alen already had bags under his eyes from lack of sleep. The constant need to refresh Numb Senses¡¯s duration and the incessant sounds of battle outside kept him awake over the past two days. While he had the two undead stationed outside, and with orders to attack any living thing below the tenth threshold that neared his hideout, Alen still didn¡¯t feel safe. This canyon was different. It wasn¡¯t like the forest of undead that had stronger foes the deeper he went in. Danger was spread out everywhere. Swarms of insects, powerful beasts, and monsters both stronger and weaker than him were littered all over the place. He remembered the lion-like beast near the oasis and shuddered. If he had rushed in and attacked it, he would probably be dead by now. He checked his left arm. It had healed by a decent amount. Alen still couldn¡¯t move it around, but the destroyed flesh had knitted up almost completely. Alen impatiently tapped his fingers on the table made of insect chitin. Now what? He wanted to go out and leave the canyon as soon as possible, but Alen knew he would have a hard time doing so until he reached at least the tenth threshold. He couldn¡¯t just waltz out and hunt in the middle of the night though. The lack of vision made it exceedingly dangerous, and all the stronger monsters became active after the sun went down. He sighed. No use rushing it. For tonight, it was going to be spell programming once again. He¡¯d be damned if he didn¡¯t improve after another all-nighter. As for sleeping? His increased Constitution and Vitality somewhat reduced his need for it. Sleep could wait after he got rid of the glorified vagina in his left bicep. Book 2, Chapter 10: An Unexpected Trial Book 2, Chapter 10: An Unexpected Trial
Sunlight tore through the air and gushed into the ground, heating sand and stone alike to temperatures appropriate for cooking eggs. Even the air itself distorted from the sweltering heat, looking like oil poured into a glass of water. A common sight in the Sandsea; the land of annoyingly high amounts of heat, sand, rocks, and canyons. Inside a particular canyon however, thing weren¡¯t as quiet. This valley seemed to have a new set of surroundings around it, sand rose up into the air in multiple columns as a battle raged within the ravine. Six undead fought and overwhelmed a pair of giant spiders. One of the spiders jumped to the wall and shot out a web, but a plume of black-green flames quickly destroyed its thick, white silk. A bone-snake curled against a rock, looking very much like a real serpent due to the complete body it was granted. Its scales made of enamel glinted in the sun, scraping against stone in its ascent upwards. It sprung at the spider, and opened its mouth full of intimidating, lacerated teeth. The spider leapt and used the snake as a springboard, jumping to the side using its eight legs. It didn¡¯t get far. Another snake, one covered in a coat black-green ice, tore into the spider¡¯s abdomen, sending deep, crimson blood spurting out. It twisted and brought the arachnid down into the sand with a boom and an accompanying column of sand and dust. The two snakes converged on the injured spider. The other eight-legged monster meanwhile, was engaged in a life-and-death struggle with a beetle, two centipedes, and what looked to be the skeleton of a large canine creature. It latched onto the skeletal canine, biting, tearing, and ripping with its legs and mandibles, destroying layer after layer of bone and enamel. The dog-like skeleton rampaged about desperately ramming into nearby boulders. An order was transmitted to its brain, causing it to stop and charge toward a centipede instead. With a spin, the giant centipede greeted the spider on the skeletal jackal¡¯s back with a powerful whip of its two tails. A young man watched this all go down, looking on with focus at the two tendrils of mana that connected him to the two spiders. A steady stream of green lights surged into his body and healed his injuries. Alen grimaced as he felt the bone inside his left arm slowly snapping back into place. He edited the program in front of him, making small adjustments to the errors he thought he¡¯d corrected. Setting a certain variable to a higher value would improve his efficiency for example, as it reduced the load of running the other functions. He saw his mana drain steadily, but the speed had slowed significantly, enough that keeping the life drain spell activated didn¡¯t make him feel like a vacuum was sucking up all his magic. Alen pulled his hand back, and with a final tug, the tendrils of mana detached from the spiders, taking a large chunk of green lights out with them as he finished adjusting the spell. The lights were pulled back into his body, and the necromancer flinched as the bone abruptly adjusted itself, sending a jolt of pain up his already numbed senses. Keeping himself steady by leaning against a rock, he breathed out a curse. ¡°Fuck me,¡± He gasped, looking at his undead fighting against the rapidly weakening spiders. One of the spiders fell to his Alen-brand bone snakes, its head ripped clean off by the skeletal serpent¡¯s sharp teeth. Alen ordered the rest of his undead to group up against the last spider, which was unceremoniously finished off. Mana surged into him.
System Message!
Congratulations! You have passed your seventh mana threshold. You are now at your eighth. This threshold will require an exponentially higher amount of mana to pass.
System Message!
The skill Vitality Drain has been created. Drain the life from your foes using a thread of necrotic magic, utilizing your skills with the magic of death and soul manipulation to heal your pain by inflicting it upon another. Your spell has been configured to have three forms: Projectile, Tendril, and Empowerment.
Alen grinned. Perfect. He¡¯d edited the spell quite a lot over the past couple days, and now it was finally complete. He¡¯d managed to kill well over a dozen monsters in the canyon, and it had taken him a surprisingly long time to get his undead up to six, as most battles forced him to retreat after one or two kills, pushing him to discard his dead summons and the material-abundant corpses of his slaughtered foes. He hurriedly ripped off a few pieces of the carapaces and infused the strands he needed from the spiders into them. He looked at numerous paths presented to him and ordered his summons to follow him into one, retreating from the site of the battle lest the scent of blood attract more foes. On the way back to his new cubby hole, he managed to resolve three more encounters. Namely, another serpent, a group of motorcycle-sized hyena-like creatures, and a massive dragonfly, which he ran away from at the cost of losing two of his undead. Alen reached his hiding spot with a few more tears in his already tattered robe, and it honestly perturbed him. He didn¡¯t have any spares, so getting these clothes destroyed meant he either had to wear AutoBone crafter chitin or enamel armor in place of his robe, or stay in the canyon full of bloodthirsty insects in his birthday suit, which was probably only begging for an experience equivalent to the stuff he¡¯d find in some insect fetishist¡¯s hentai collection. He shuddered at the thought. A slight breeze flitted past and caused his hole-ridden robes to flutter. He shivered. Alen sat down on the table and grit his teeth. ¡°Screw it,¡± He said, opening up AutoBone as he plucked a piece of meat from a sealed container made of chitin. He set it down on the table and idly roasted it with a flame, the AutoBone UI popping up in front of him. He tenderly raised his left arm and inspected the fresh scar on his bicep. It didn¡¯t looktoobad, at least. Apparently, letting wounds stay too long without healing them properly caused scarring. The marks could of course be removed with a Restoration spell, but he didn¡¯t really know any people focusing on that school of magic. Alen sighed, his affinity for it would definitely be shit, considering the fact that his mana type was necrotic. He read the spell details for Vitality Drain again. He tried slotting it into a Necrotic Blessing once, and it resulted in that Empowerment category. Blessing his undead with Vitality Drain didn¡¯t healthem,but instead, it healedhim. Alen spotted a finger-sized ant crawling around near his table and resisted the urge to stomp on it. He acted like a little bitch the first time one of these ants came around (they bite), but he eventually just got used to it. His Resistance wasn¡¯t very high, but it was high enough that a nibble from those ants¡¯ mandibles just felt like a light pinch. They were just normal creatures after all¡ªnot even at the strength of the first threshold. He reached into a box placed on top of the table and pulled out a fingernail-sized piece of chitin, before tossing it to the ground near the ant. The chitin immediately bubbled up and created a miniature praying mantis¡ªwell, thenormalsize for a praying mantis. Not like the ones in the canyon that were the size of a fucking truck. He focused on the thread that connected him to the mantis and cast Necrotic Blessing. Immediately, an invisible mist of magic lined the similarly invisible thread. With a mental command transmitted through the thread, the mantis snatched the ant up with its scythe-like arms. It brought it mouth close and started chewing off the ant¡¯s head. Quickly, green motes of light ran up the thread connecting Alen to the mini-mantis and surged into his body as the ant died. It was a pretty sad amount, and probably wouldn¡¯t even heal for shit, but the buff¡¯s effect was definitely more effective when cast on his stronger undead. It essentially gave them a lifesteal effect that siphoned health back to him. It was a fairly situational buff, however, he could only have a single Blessing up on one undead at his current state. He wanted to change it, but he¡¯d already tried. He¡¯d failed. He knew what commands to change, and which lines of code to add, but whenever he did so, the line of code he wrote on the program would fade away. Alen guessed the reason for this was his Control stat. Even though Mana Programming made things easy, in the end, he was still manipulating mana. Until he got stronger, he¡¯d probably stay limited to a single buff per minion. Alen wanted to feel wronged, but he realized that the system was at least balanced. He wasn¡¯t the most clever mage most likely, so Alen would¡¯ve hated it if some fucker completely broke the system with some absurdly overpowered magic system or spell. Of course, the better developed magic systems and spells still had a massive advantage against the sloppy ones, but at least no one would be able to fire Annihilation Rays left and right at the first threshold. Alen shook his head and waved his hand, causing the miniature mantis to disintegrate into gray dust, a convenient function he added to Summon Skeletal Minion that let him reduce them to ashes. He still couldn¡¯t make them shrink back down into a shard, but it was progress. Alen sighed and looked back at the AutoBone UI. ¡°Right, clothes,¡± He muttered, putting a piece of chitin beside him with a little clack. The things were made of keratin, and so was hair, which meant they could probably be used to make clothes. Alen slowly edited a piece of chitin in the app, thinning it out and making it soft and flowy as if it was a lock of fused hair. It eventually took shape, getting longer both vertically and horizontally. Two parts extended sideward, and a collar was created. Then, a hood formed, along with a set of strings that bound the keratin robe together. Two hours passed. The meat on the table had been cooked long ago, and it had cooled already, taking away a lot of the original flavor, but he still decided to just throw it in his mouth. Alen yawned and stretched his body. He picked up a few pieces of chitin. ¡°Nudeness, nudeness, go away. Don¡¯t make me partake, in hentai insect play,¡± He mused, tossing them down towards the table. Midair, they rapidly expanded and thinned out, forming a dark, nearly black, inky-green robe that harmlessly flapped down onto the table¡¯s surface, along with some pants and a new set of underwear. Another piece clattered onto the table and rapidly formed into a pair of boots that resembled black plate. Alen laughed and practically tore off his clothing, putting on the clothes he¡¯d put together. The cloth was soft and silky to the touch, and on his shoulders, chest, back, and legs were somewhat thick, but light plates of chitin he¡¯d added for extra protection. Of course, the entire robe was also reinforced by his mana, so it offered a higher amount of defense than his old set. Alen smiled giddily and looked down on himself.Awesome,he pulled on the fabric and grinned wider. Now that his thoughts about Keratin were confirmed, Alen wondered if he could make his insect undead fly. While the regeneration patterns of the wings were included inside the purple strands, Alen wasn¡¯t sure the insects could carry him in flight, or if the insects could even fly by themselves, as he¡¯d edited them quite a lot. The undead were more deadly in fights because of it, but their mass increased by a lot as a result. The original versions of the wings might not be able to lift the creature anymore. Alen would have to spend time editing the wings, but seeing the monsters that constantly flew over the canyon, it wasn¡¯t worth the time investment seeing as how he would get swarmed the moment he had his undead fly up away the canyon¡¯s natural cover. He guessed that fixing the wing problem would probably require a magnifying tool in his AutoBone app, but that would come later, seeing as how gaining the ability to fly would do more harm than good in his current situation. Alen shrugged. At least he had a method to get out of the canyon when he was strong enough to fight back the insects constantly flying over the rock valley. Mana gathered in his fingertips as Alen took out the new pieces of bone and chitin he¡¯d gathered. He had seven in total, a whole day¡¯s worth of hunting monsters around his level. Alen infused mana into it to prepare the shards for summoning, draining most of his mana after he filled three. He set the rest down and opened his status, checking his new stats. This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.
Status:
Name: Alen Race: Human Type: Necrotic
Health: 93% Stamina: 61% Mana: 23%
Strength: 16 Dexterity: 18 Agility: 16
Constitution: 19 Vitality: 14 Resistance: 16
Intelligence: 32 (++) Wisdom: 41 (+++) Control: 36 (+)
Skills:
Mana Programming, Dominate Undead, Blightbolt, Necrotic Blessing, Numb Senses, Summon Skeletal Minion, Rotfire Blast, Deathchill Touch, Bone Spear, Skeletal Rupture, Vitality Drain
System Applications:
AutoBone
He grinned at his stats. His growth inside the canyon was rapid, and now that he¡¯d reached the eighth threshold, the tenth and beyond wouldn¡¯t be too far ahead. He¡¯d make an attempt to leave the canyon at level ten, but if he still fucked up and somehow managed to survive, he¡¯d wait ¡®til the twelfth threshold. After that, he¡¯d search for Lynn and Roland before heading out to find the rest of his friends. Speaking of his friends¡­ Twenty-three percent. His mana was still pretty low, so Alen decided to let it fill up by itself while he checked on his hopefully still-alive companions.
Egg Chat Room
Alen: Yo. Anyone on? Sam: I don¡¯t think Sam¡¯s on tho. Adam: me neither tbh Alen: Anyone whoisn¡¯ta faggot on? Anne: Did someone say¡­ faggot!?!? Alen: No. Anyways, what¡¯s up guys? My fap-arm was injured, so I was dead for a few days. Sam: Adam and I are taking a break from exploring this underground dungeon man. Adam: ^^^ Anne: Eh, I¡¯ve just been dying off with my lute. Alen: Whoawhoawhoa, what¡¯s this about a dungeon? What? Those are a thing? Sam: Yeah dude. We got a commission to clear it out. Apparently, undead led by this Archlich ravaged the continent a few hundred years ago, and this dungeon used to be an underground settlement or something. Adam: the undead are weaker now apparently, so sam and i are going to just fuck up whatever zombies are still here Bernard: oh yeah, me and Anne are planning on traveling to Jamal¡¯s country so we can mess with him while he¡¯s on guard duty or something. Alen: See, I¡¯d join you, but I¡¯m currently in a perpetual state of ¡®possibly about to get ass-raped by some giant insects¡¯, which admittedly, is somewhat arousing. I just love me some horny beetles. Anne: Same my dude. I love stick bugs to be honest, they¡¯re like, walking vaginas. Adam: wtf anne no, that¡¯s like, the complete opposite of a vagina Sam: Yourfaceis a vagina!!! Bernard: it¡¯s actually you¡¯re
Alen laughed and talked to them a bit more. He asked Sam for a few tips regarding magic, and they both managed to learn a few new things thanks to the different books they¡¯d read. Alen had been using information from the first two volumes of mana theory so far to conceptualize his spells, and he was glad to learn a few new things from Sam who had more access to books than he did. Speaking of neat trivia, the phrase ¡®mages walk their own paths¡¯ wasn¡¯t literal, apparently. Sam told him that there were some standardized magic systems people could easily learn, and that the phrase was more like a scholar telling his fellow magic enthusiast to keep learning, innovating, and advancing the field of magic. It was some pretty cool stuff to know. Alen was always someone who loved lore, but he didn¡¯t have much time to read up on the world¡¯s history considering his busy schedule. He silently swore to himself that he¡¯d make it up to his inner nerd in the next major city and waved away the two blue screens in front of him. His main priority right now was to get stronger. Relaxing could come later, when he managed to get out of this stupid fucking place. Walking over to a corner of the cubby hole, he lied down. Since he hadn¡¯t had the time to make a bed in AutoBone, he was still sleeping on the floor, but it wasn¡¯t all that bad. If anything, it was kind of relaxing to feel the cold stone on his back. His eyes moved to stare outside of his hiding spot. It admittedly wasn¡¯t a very good one, and Alen planned on clearing the earth or nature type mana next in order to conceal his cave better. Plus, after he¡¯d cleared the elements for fire and water, Rotfire Blast and Deathchill Touch had both gotten stronger, so he was curious to see what he could make with necrotic and earth mana next. Maybe a blighted grounds spell for debuffing enemies? Or could he make necrotic poison using nature mana? He grinned and closed his eyes, excitedly going to sleep in order to prepare for the next day. Alen gasped as he woke up with a start. He looked around and saw that his surroundings were dark. Not a simple darkness someone would find in the middle of the night, but a black void. Completely empty. Below him was a smooth floor that shone as if it was reflecting light, even though there was none to be found inside the abyss. It was smooth as glass. Alen breathed in and felt¡­ a feeling of peace¡ªa powerful sense of harmony with his surroundings. He recognized this place. He¡¯d only entered it once; when he¡¯d used Dominate Undead on the Ghoulbear back in the Undead Forest. Back then, he was able to command the mana all around him like it was putty in his hands, letting him display powers he didn¡¯t think he was capable of. Alen frowned. He remembered going to sleep, but he didn¡¯t remember using anything like Dominate Undead before doing so, so that begged the question: Why was he here? Alen looked up and noticed a difference within the space. Above were what seemed to be two balls of light. The two didn¡¯t seem to glow, or maybe, the darkness surrounding Alen was just so oppressive that the two light above couldn¡¯t radiate light beyond themselves. They glowed it two different colors, blue and red. As he looked up at them, Alen felt something, and somehow, he knew that those balls represented his affinities toward water and fire¡ªthe elements that he had cleared of necrotic mana. Around those two balls of light, Alen could barely see the flicker of more colors. There were hundreds¡ªno, thousands more, but they were covered in a thick coating of black-green mana, seemingly suppressing their radiance. They glittered like multicolored stars in the sky. Alen felt a warmth well up along with the sense of harmony. He was the monarch of this world, the ruler and the sole commander of everything within. He felt at home in the truest sense, as if he had just returned to his room back at his house, and everything was kept untouched, in the same place, with the same look as before, with his family there to greet him. His expression darkened, and the space seemed to darken with it. Alen forcefully pushed the thought out of his head and looked around further. He snapped his fingers and conjured a ball of Rotflame. The red light above flickered and a stream of it surged toward his palm. Another light¡ªone Alen hadn¡¯t noticed before due to how dark it was¡ªglowed with a black-green radiance as it similarly sent a stream towards his hand. Alen noticed that it was bigger than the other two; both the stream, and the ball of light. In front of him, the flame formed, bathing the area around him in a deep, emerald-green radiance. At the core of the flame was darkness, but the outer layer of green managed to give off a nice light. Alen looked around once again. Nothing? He furrowed his brows. The darkness continued to expand towards the horizon without end. The necromancer pursed his lips and was about to just start messing around with spells when a low growl from behind him sent shivers down his spine. He turned around and saw a face with dark eyes and rotting, yellow teeth. It clawed towards him, but Alen¡¯s increased stats weren¡¯t for nothing. He leaned back, the sharp nails flashing past his face, before his hand snaked out and grasped the enemy¡¯s rotten wrist. Deathchill Touch. The skin bloated explosively, before bursting into a shower of blood and necrotic mana. Deathchill ate away at the flesh and turned the bones to mulch, causing the wrist to fall off the attacker. It howled in rage, and Alen managed to get a good look at it. It was a zombie. Not a powerful one, either. Alen even recognized it. It was the first zombie he had ever killed, and the foe that had caused him to hole up and fear the outside. Alen glowered and waved his hand as it lunged at him, causing an explosion of Rotflame to completely eradicate the undead from existence. The sticky, sweltering stench of rot blasted into his face. Alen hated zombies, and he hated the fact that the smell didn¡¯t bother him as much as it used to. He wordlessly watched the black ash fade into the void. Two more groans alerted him. He looked to the left and saw two more zombies shambling towards him. They were the two that he¡¯d killed after mustering the courage to leave his cubby hole. Alen felt the scar in his left palm burn. Gritting his teeth, he raised his arm again, destroying the two undead as easily as flipping over a hand with another plume of Rotflame. Immediately afterwards, the sound of clacking bones resounded out. A dozen skeletons came rushing towards him. Alen clasped his fist, and the dark ground below ruptured, encasing the skeletons in twisted, black tendrils of mana. He pointed his finger at them and cast a spell: Dominate Undead. A minute later, the tendrils of mana receded, releasing a dozen skeletons that moved to encircle Alen protectively. More sounds came from his surroundings. More undead. Twenty this time. His mana surged, and the skeletons charged. Alen killed off all the zombies, and continued to encase all the skeletons. He converted them to his side. A single one of the skeletons felt like they wouldn¡¯t even cost a percent of his mana back in the real world to take over, much less in this space where it seemed like that amount was magnified to a stupid amount. He converted them all, except one. He kept it trapped in a coffin of his magic. He looked around and saw that the next ¡®wave¡¯ of enemies hadn¡¯t arrived yet. His guess was correct after all, then. The necromancer nodded to himself and opened AutoBone, preparing to increase the effectiveness of his skeletons. After he finished, he shoved the purple strand into the skeletons. It melded into the one already inside of them, and quickly, the bones bubbled to form a multitude of equipment. The skeletons that numbered over twenty grew thick, mana-enforced bone armor. Their entire left arms were converted into large kite shields with razor-sharp edges, while similarly sharp longswords were melded to the bones of their right hands. Finally, Alen focused on them, and strengthened the ¡®muscles¡¯ of mana that let the skeletons move, increasing their physical capabilities dramatically to match a warrior at the seventh threshold. Alen felt his mana reserves take a hit. He frowned. It seemed like his capacity in this place wasn¡¯t infinite after all. He felt it regenerating, but it was far too slow to matter. Alen decided he¡¯d limit buffing his future undead to the fifth or sixth threshold in the future. If this was going where he thought this was heading, Alen would need all the mana he could get. He quickly released the skeleton he¡¯d trapped and converted it as well, giving it the same treatment as the other twenty-four. In total, twenty-five undead surrounded him like a wall¡ªlooking like an elite force. Without any delays, the next wave of enemies started. Even more undead. Alen annihilated all of them with his magic, and the skeletons at his command. He then converted the skeletons in the horde, setting them to the fifth threshold after giving them armor and weapons. Alen pondered making bows, but he didn¡¯t have any keratin available to make the strings and feathered ends of the arrows. His legion of over fifty skeletons now had spear users among them, placed behind the sword and board defenders to over offense. Alen had noticed something, however. His undead had been buffed to the seventh and fifth thresholds, but some of them weren¡¯t as strong as their thresholds usually suggested. Alen guessed why: technique. The skeletons were most likely the corpses of previous people the city sent into the forest. They probably died, and were then unceremoniously turned into undead. Alen wouldn¡¯t be surprised if a few volunteer militia were among them, which explained the relative lack of finesse the skeletons showed when wielding their weapons. Of course, some didn¡¯t disappoint, but they weren¡¯t in the majority. That meant that not only would Alen have to choose which undead he converted, he also couldn¡¯t just raise any normal skeleton to his level and expect them to be strong enough to fight on par with his enemies. Skill was a bigger part of combat than levels were, and he was feeling it now. Alen¡¯s thoughts were interrupted by a guttural roar. In front of him, a Ghoulbear had formed. He felt afraid at first, but when the bear charged, it felt¡­ slow. Nowhere near as fast as it once felt. He nodded to himself and suppressed his fear. He was stronger now, and this bear was for him to dominate. Alen cast his spell and the bear slowly grinded to a halt, its subservience transferred over to the emerald-eyed necromancer before it. He sighed. It was so easy he felt uncomfortable at how weak he once was. He really did get lucky back then, huh? The next wave came. Over a hundred undead. Zombies, skeletons, ghouls, and Maneater Bats. Alen swept through them with his undead, converting the ones he wanted to convert. More and more foes came. Hunchback Lizards, Rockfist Apes, Razorfang Wolves¡­ they came in droves, and Alen killed them all, his emerald eyes glowing brighter and brighter as the feeling of harmony between him and the space grew with every kill. Blood sprayed in all directions and painted the black ground in a deep crimson, but every enemy slaughtered mattered less to Alen. After all, he¡¯d killed hundreds at this point. The difficulty slowly increased. Soon, he wasn¡¯t just fighting the same number of foes he¡¯d killed. He faced six identical copies of the first beetle he had killed in the Sandsea, resulting in a small number of casualties in his undead army. More enemies surged in. Alen killed, and killed, and killed, until finally, the first people he had killed came up. He didn¡¯t recognize their faces. They were probably the ones he killed from a distance¡ªthe death¡¯s caused by the numerous Rotfire Bolts and Bone Spears he had thrown at Alexandrius¡¯s ships. Alen closed his eyes and cast Necrotic Blessing. His undead immediately became even stronger, overwhelming the group of lizards, humans, and elves that he¡¯d previously killed. When he opened his eyes, Alen saw their butchered remains and felt sick. They¡¯d killed a few of his undead, and Alen could¡¯ve prevented that had he casted a spell himself, but he was hesitant to kill them with his own hands. More people appeared, mixed in with the insect monsters of the Sandsea. These people were identical with the one Alen¡¯s undead had just killed. They charged at him and Alen grit his teeth. His undead opened up a path, and Alen cast Rotfire Blast. The column of black-green flames erupted like a breaking dam, completely overwhelming a large majority of the attackers and turning them to ash. He looked at their charred bones and fading ashes with gritted teeth and bloodshot eyes. The next wave came, and Alen killed. He killed, and then he killed more. So much, that he started to feel numb to it. Life was precious, and so easily taken. They had tried to take his, so he took theirs. Was there no other way? The thought was stopped by a familiar elven bandit that managed to slip through his undead. The dagger flashed and cut a deep wound into his shoulder. Pain surged up Alen¡¯s mind, and Numb Senses was activated almost by reflex. The necromancer growled, and the hand pointed to the ground splayed to release a large projectile of black-green fog. It exploded and surged into the elf¡¯s body, causing the man to scream in pain as green motes of light surged into Alen¡¯s body and healed his wounds. While the man was distracted, Alen pulled back his fist and covered it in a deep Deathchill. He punched at the man¡¯s face and sent him two steps back, his face bloating before exploding in rot. Alen pointed his hand and destroyed the man with a plume of black-green flames. More waves came, and Alen fought the same elf repeatedly, the undead under his command rapidly being whittled away by the opponents that came with the elven bandit. At one time, Alen even had to face two copies of the same caramel-skinned elf. Eventually, even the seemingly infinite mana at his control began to run out. An explosion of Rotflame rocked the area and killed more foes, and Alen was left panting cuts and blood all over his body. Some his, and most, another¡¯s. His undead had all died, and a single bandit was left standing, his sword broken and wounds all over his body as he stood over a dead skeleton. He recognized the man. It was the bandit that had fought him in a melee, nearly killing him multiple times and resulting in the first murder that he had ever committed with his own hands. The man rushed at him. Alen rushed back. The man twisted, and he was kicked in the stomach. He fell to the ground and rolled, a foot stomping on the place his head used to be. Alen kicked up, but his foot met air. The man had retreated, and he was panting as blood dripped from his open wounds. Alen stood up on shaky legs and faced him, raising his fists. The man ran at him. He punched, but he was slower than before, a testament to the wounds all over his body. Alen blocked and punched back, Deathchill covering his fist. The man blocked with his forearm and howled as it bloated and rotted away. Alen felt a throbbing in his head. His mana was running out, and he didn¡¯t even have enough for another Rotfire Blast. The man kicked his side and he staggered. Alen forced himself to move forward and rammed his shoulder against the man¡¯s chest. They fell to the ground. A knee slammed against Alen¡¯s stomach and he gasped out a sound of pain. He slammed his elbow into the man¡¯s face. He heard a pop. The jaw had been dislocated. Regardless, his foe mounted his and rained blows into his face. Alen tasted blood in his mouth. His hands moved and grabbed at the man¡¯s fists, his weakened state allowing Alen to compete with him in strength. The man watched as a malevolent frost covered Alen¡¯s face. The necromancer slammed his forehead against the man¡¯s face. The flesh bloated from a frostbitten necrosis. The man lost his vision as the rot crept into his skull. He stood up and staggered back, before falling to the ground, dead. A notification popped up in front of Alen¡¯s beaten face.
System Message!
Congratulations! You have passed a trial sent by the God of Death, Thagathos. He has taken an interest in your magic and your potential, rewarding you a chance for growth at the risk of death. Your three priority stats have increased by six, five, and four respectively. Affinity with Necrotic and related mana types increased. Thagathos is now paying slight attention to your actions. There are currently 117,819 people who are alive and have undertaken a trial under this god within this world. Surprise this god more, and he may reward you even further. Good luck, necromancer.
Alen laughed hoarsely and waved it away. He didn¡¯t know what to feel at what he¡¯d just gotten. He shook his head, no use thinking about gods when he was in the situation he was in. He wanted to get stronger, and he was given more stats. That was the important bit. Alen took a step forward to see if he could leave the empty space when a voice rang out from behind him. Alen looked back and recognized the man. It was the bandit he had just killed. The man looked at him strangely with his hands in his pockets. There was a calm and clarity in his sunken blue eyes that wasn¡¯t present before. He wore leather over loose garments that hung over his skinny frame. His gaunt face had a stubble, and it was evident that the man was even handsome in a rugged kind of way. The man gazed at the shocked Alen with a resigned smile on his face. ¡°You have the time for a quick chat?¡± Book 2, Side Chapter: Just Another Commission Book 2, Side Chapter:
[Adam & Sam] ¡°You think it¡¯ll open if we pull this lever?¡± A young man holding a staff asked, his black eyes looking at the contraption before him. His companion, a lean young man with brown hair and coffee colored eyes, regarded the lever with a skeptical look. He glanced around the tunnel they were in, and found that nothing seemed to be out of place. Regardless of that however, he still frowned. ¡°I dunno Sam, this place screams clich¨¦ boulder trap. Why don¡¯t you just blow up the door or some shit?¡± ¡°I can, but like, look at this place,¡± Sam scratched his head full of black hair and motioned to the surrounding area. ¡°Statistically, most deaths regarding tunnels and locked doors inside undead-infested dungeons are caused by cave-ins and two people making stupid decisions, rather than deadly rolling boulders.¡± ¡°Reference?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t reveal mysources,Adam.¡± ¡°Thought so. I mean, can¡¯t we just pull the lever,thendestroy the boulder?¡± ¡°And where¡¯s the fun inthat?¡± Sam snapped at him. ¡°We get to blow up a boulder.¡± ¡°Your face is a boulder.¡± ¡°It¡¯s actually you¡¯re.¡± The two lapsed into silence and continued to stare at the lever. A moment passed, and before Sam could react, Adam¡¯s hand snaked out and casually pulled the lever. The black-haired mage looked at him disgustedly. ¡°Oh. My. Goodness, this guy right here is an actual boulder.¡± With the loud grating noise of stone scraping against stone, the large door in front of them opened. Adam shrugged and stepped in, with Sam following behind him. It was dark, so with a snap of Sam¡¯s fingers, a ball of light blinked into existence behind him, lighting up the area in a four meter radius. They passed ruins and fallen rock, the bright glow of Magelight casting animated shadows all over the wall as they passed the skeletal remains of the people that used to live in the underground settlement. Adam jumped in fright as a loud clack suddenly rang out, and the glow of Sam¡¯s magic being prepared lit up his back, but they both calmed down upon realizing that the sound originated from a skull Adam had accidentally kicked. They proceeded onwards, the sound of shoes against stone echoing out in a steady beat. Slowly, the smell in the air started to change. The smell of rot. Decomposition. Undead. Sam sent his Magelight forward, and it revealed a group of zombies kneeling down on the ground. Each of the animated rotten bodies were deformed, their bodies lacking any trace of skin, and instead showing decayed, bloody muscle. Some arms were even larger than the other, while stomachs were bloated, and boils and abscess littered the bodies of the dead. The corpses paid them no attention. Sam¡¯s black eyes began to glow with a blue light as magic coursed throughout his body in what seemed like a massive loop, circulating to gather around the pit of his stomach. Adam blocked Sam with his arm. ¡°Trash mobs,¡± The brown-haired young man drew his sword and dagger. ¡°Take care of them with an AoE, and I¡¯ll handle that¡­thing.Support me as soon as you can.¡± Sam frowned and strained his eyes in the darkness. Adam¡¯s eyes were better than his, so it took him a while to notice it. The lump of flesh. The lumbering form of rot and decay. It limped towards them, each step becoming louder than the last. The rattling of chains frantically echoed out as the creature began to sprint, noticing them with its single, milky white eye. Suddenly, with a booming roar, the undead cyclops knocked back the zombies with its arm and barreled on towards them. Adam immediately burst into action, the bottom of his shoes flickering with a green light as he took a step forward.Whoosh!The air surged, propelling him diagonally towards the cyclops. It punched at him with a hand covered in rusty, blackened chains, but Adam¡¯s movements were reminiscent of a leaf riding the wind. Before it hit him, his body swayed to the side, and the sword in his hand flashed to cut a deep wound into the monster¡¯s arm. It roared and swept its arm out. Adam reached out the hand holding the dagger and lightly tapped his fingers against the approaching arm with an unmatched speed. He soared upwards, somersaulting over the creature. His feet thumped against the ceiling and he activated his skill again. Fluttering Steps. Adam¡¯s body flashed, and he swept downwards like a hawk hunting its prey. His sword raked through the giant¡¯s chest, before screaming against a large set of chains wrapped around the creature¡¯s stomach. He gritted his teeth and kicked back, barely avoiding the cyclops¡¯s fist as it punched at its own belly. A bang rang out. Adam hit the floor, rolling on the ground upon the rough landing. He kicked, and his foot glowed to propel him upwards again. A foot smashed the spot he was previously in just a moment after. Suddenly, a wave of cold air swept past him. An explosion of azure flames boomed out from behind him, but instead of heat, a terrifying chill spread out to freeze the zombies. The flame stuck to their bodies as they screeched in agony, the persistent conflagrations of frost cracking their frozen skin. Sam waved his hand, and with a surge of mana, the frozen corpses exploded, sending ice shards out to injure the remaining zombies. One of the rotten enemies dashed towards him, but soon, it found itself falling to the ground, its lower body tumbling down in front of it. A floating blade of ice stabbed into its head, killing in. In total, four swords of ice surrounded Sam; ready to strike. He stomped his foot, and the floor beneath him in a twenty meter radius was covered in a thin sheen of frost. His feet glided against the ice, each blade of frost slicing into any zombies that he neared. They burst into showers of red blood and yellow acid, hissing against the melting ground. His palms glowed with a blue light, releasing a chilling mist. He watched Adam stab his dagger into the monster¡¯s eye and jump away. As his friend left, Sam swept his hands out and as if a bird was spreading its wings, three shards of ice shot out from each of his hands. They sunk into the cyclops¡¯s torso, causing dark blood to spray out. Sam moved his body to dodge the blood. Adam¡¯s feet glowed again, and he once again flew up. He sheathed his dagger and held his sword in a two-handed grip. He spun and swung his weapon. An invisible blade of air surrounded the sword and extended its range, causing a deep wound that sliced half-way into the giant monster¡¯s neck. It roared as Adam backed away and uncoiled the chains arounds its fists. It swung its arms, and like a whip, the chains smashed towards Adam.This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it. Sam was circling the cyclops when this happened, ice forming around his steps to help him glide. His eyes flashed, and like a conductor, he swept his arms out. Immediately, on a patch of ice in front of Adam, a thick pillar of frost rose up to block the strike. A boom exploded out, and the pillar cracked against the attack, giving Adam enough time to get out of the way. He grabbed the dagger by his waist and threw it at the cyclops. Hurriedly sheathing his sword, he took the bow on his back and nocked a few arrows, firing them at the monster. His accuracy had improved, evident by the bolts that cleanly pierced the rotten flesh on the creature¡¯s face. Blood spurted out of its punctured eye. It roared in agony, but it was cut short by a spear of ice that shot out from the cracked pillar. The spear stabbed into its lower jaw, effectively shutting its mouth. With a flick of Adam¡¯s wrist, the dagger dislodged itself from the cyclops and flew towards him. He activated Fluttering Steps and met the weapon in the air, catching it in his right hand. He held the bow in his left, and activated Wind¡¯s Edge, giving the dagger an invisible scalpel-sharp blade that extended its range to that of a longsword. Adam kicked away the hand the cyclops used to block its face, a boom ringing out as Augmentation magic amplified his strength. He was about to stab the dagger into the monster¡¯s face when Sam finished casting his spell. The four swords of ice combined into a large greatsword. Sam swept his arm to the side as if he was swinging a blade, and the greatsword followed the motion, shooting forward to cut off one of the cyclops¡¯s legs. It fell to the ground, and Adam¡¯s strike missed, raking a gash through the monster¡¯s head instead. As the monster toppled down, it swung its arm, intending to hit Adam with its beefy forearm. The young man paled when he saw the strike coming. Hurriedly, he let go of his dagger mid-air, before kicking it with his shoe that glowed with a green light. Fluttering Steps activated once again, showing the true strength of its utility. Adam sped away from the dagger mid-air after touching it with his shoe, moving as if he had just sprung from solid ground. An instant later, the dagger was hit by the monster¡¯s arm. The limb continued forward and slammed against the wall, denting the weapon to an unusable state. Sam cringed. He¡¯d fucked up. The greatsword of ice collapsed in front of him, and he sent its shards into a downward arc to destroy the monster¡¯s head. With a final spurt of blood, the cyclops finally died, and an equal amount of mana surged into their bodies. A notification popped up in front of them both.
System Message!
Congratulations! You have passed your ninth mana threshold. You are now at your tenth. This threshold will require an exponentially higher amount of mana to pass.
Adam sighed and sent a glare at Sam. ¡°Jesus Christ man, time your shit correctly. You almost got me fucking killed.¡± Sam scratched his head in apology. ¡°We need to work on our teamwork.¡± ¡°No shit,¡± His friend said, checking his equipment. He sheathed his bow to his back and checked his sword for damage. The edge had chipped from hitting the chain a while ago. Adam sighed and moved his hand over it. Slowly, the blade wriggled and mended itself, before finally looking as if it was never damaged in the first place. The mage looked over curiously. ¡°Mend Metal?¡± ¡°Nah,¡± Adam shook his head. ¡°Nature magic. Wood Elves use the forest to store and create weapons. It¡¯s why my sword¡¯s colored so strange, it¡¯s made of Ironwood instead of actual iron. Same with the dagger, but I can¡¯t even find it.¡± Sam watched Adam pull a block of obsidian-colored wood from his enchanted pouch. ¡°I¡¯ll just make a new dagger from this one. It should be better than the last because I¡¯ve gotten better at Nature-Weapon Shaping, but it¡¯ll take a pretty long time. I won¡¯t have a dagger for a while.¡± They walked forward, and the mage stepped over a pool of blood. He noticed Adam wiping away a bit from his face, an wondered why his friend didn¡¯t seem as bothered as he was. Killing monsters was a thing, but Sam wasn¡¯t used to getting blood on his robes. It made him feel dirty, and clothes were a pain to clean. Adam seemed accustomed to it, but Sam guessed it was probably just because of the melee-nature of his friend¡¯s fighting style. Or maybe¡­ Adam wasn¡¯t bothered by blood and death anymore? He stopped thinking about it. His group of friends really didn¡¯t talk about serious things. There was an untold agreement between all of them that the chat would normally be used for lighthearted talk and banter. An escape, per se. A quick energizer to put a grin on their faces before they faced the next obstacle. They¡¯d always been like that. Everyone had problems, secrets, and everyone else expected them to share when they were ready to. Times that weren¡¯t spent talking seriously about problems were times spent joking and laughing. Alen had told him a year ago how much he appreciated a group like that, and Sam thought the same. Sam¡¯s wandering thoughts were interrupted by Adam¡¯s voice. ¡°Yo, there¡¯s something here.¡± He blinked and looked at his friend. Adam moved past him and pointed at a set of large, stone doors. They hung open, complicated patterns and pictures lining their frames. Sam frowned. ¡°What is this place?¡± ¡°I dunno,¡± Adam said, observing the doors. ¡°Think we should go in?¡± He thought about it for a moment. ¡°Well, there shouldn¡¯t be any strong undead left. Let¡¯s see what¡¯s inside man.¡± Adam nodded and stepped in, Sam¡¯s Magelight floating in front of him to reveal a smooth, pattered stone floor. It abruptly brightened, revealing a larger area. Eight pillars rose up from the ground in a circle. The room was a dome-like structure, and statues of races Sam had never even heard about littered the room; some broken, and some looking as if they were fresh from the hands of a sculptor. The center of the room held a single altar, and in the middle of the altar laid a single orb that seemed to contain the starry sky itself. Stars glittered within it, and a feeling of infinity radiated out. They approached, and Adam touched the surface of the orb. It rippled like water. Sam frowned. He¡¯d felt the mana in the air. Ever since they entered the room, magic was steadily gathering within.Why?He touched Adam¡¯s shoulder. ¡°Let¡¯s get out of he¡ª¡° The patterns on the floor abruptly lit up. Adam jumped and let go of the orb. The two looked back to see the doors slam shut. A terrifying amount of mana gathered to fill the room. The orb in the altar shone with a brilliant light, each start within twinkling brightly. Sam reached into his mana pool to break the door open, but he found that he couldn¡¯t use any spells. Adam shouted in a panic. ¡°My magic¡¯s sealed off!¡± Sam looked around frantically, before his eyes landed on the orb. ¡°Smash it!¡± Adam grabbed the hilt of his sword and drove the pommel down. Just before it hit the orb, everything exploded into a world of white. Slowly, it died down. The room was dome-like in shape. It held eight pillars, and the statues of races one wouldn¡¯t find in the surface. At the center was an altar, and it a single black orb, one that didn¡¯t seem to have anything within it¡ªas if it was the abyss itself. If a scholar from ancient times had been present, that person would¡¯ve recognized the runes on the ground. Runes for an older, more powerful spell array. An array that had been lost to history. The spell array for a Mass Teleportation spell. Afterwards, he would¡¯ve recognized the races. He would¡¯ve recognized the symbolism of the pictures that were on the doors, pillars, statues, and the single altar that laid in the room, along with the significance of the orb placed upon the altar. The room was an entrance. It was an entrance to the dream of all explorers, and the home of the races the continent of Redaria didn¡¯t even remember. It led to the sky that lurked beneath the world above: It was an entrance to The Underearth. Discord Server I was told to make an announcement regarding a Discord so people who missed it would see. I''ll delete the Quick Update announcement as soon as I start updating again, so this will be the one with a permanent link. Anyways, basically, discussing things in the comments is fine, but if there are any questions you guys would like to ask that would end up in a fairly long discussion, head on over to here:You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author. https://discord.gg/Fex9Tjv I''ll try my best to answer, while ones that could spoil the plot or anything in the future will be left unanswered. Book 2, Chapter 11: A Change of Goals Book 2, Chapter 11: A Change of Goals
[Alen] Alen stared at the apparition standing in front of him. The man shrugged and began to walk over, which caused Alen to take a wary step back. His hand glowed with an eerie black-green light as his mana tore through the space to gather in his palm. ¡°What do you want?¡± He asked, his eyes laced with murder. He¡¯d killed this person multiple times already, just like he¡¯d done to all the enemies that had attacked him in this trial. What was another pebble in the mound when he¡¯d already piled enough for a hill? The person in front of him scratched at his stubble and looked at him with interest. ¡°Your seem different,¡± The man said. ¡°How long has it been since you killed me?¡± ¡°Two minutes.¡± A laugh entered Alen¡¯s ears. The man waved his hand dismissively and grinned. There was something savage in his smile. ¡°Why am I asking you? I still remember. It was six days and seventeen hours ago,¡± He said, his smile turning mirthless. ¡°I¡¯ve counted every second since then.¡± Alen frowned at him, his magic flaring. ¡°Don¡¯t pull this bullshit in front of me. You attacked me first.¡± ¡°And you killed me for it. You¡¯re a murderer now. Just like the ones you¡¯ve killed.¡± The necromancer¡¯s words faltered in his mouth. A long moment passed. ¡°I¡¯m a murderer, yeah,¡± He slowly said. ¡°I killed you, along with the rest of your friends, because you tried to take my life. I don¡¯t give a fuck about how morally wrong it is. I¡¯d still destroy your group of rapists and pillagers with my magic if it meant keeping myself alive.¡± ¡°It looks like you¡¯re finally realizing what this world is like,¡± The man muttered. His irises flashed to become an eerie red. A tense moment went by. ¡°We were killers and pillagers,¡± He agreed, finally, before his now blue eyes hardened. ¡°But we were not scum. Don¡¯t try to fool yourself into justifying our deaths by piling sins we never committed onto our heads. Accept the weight of the lives you¡¯ve taken, just like we did ours.¡± A complicated expression made its way into Alen¡¯s face. ¡°If they weigh so much, then why did you do it?¡± He simply asked. The man shrugged. ¡°Hard times called for hard decisions. A famine hit the Sandsea after the western countries closed their trade agreements with us, and all but the larger cities were affected. Unless you wanted to starve to death, robbing the richer folk or eating monsters were the only ways to survive. I take it you already knew this?¡± ¡°The west closed its trade agreements?¡± His brows knitted together. ¡°Some bastard son of King Gulderk started a rebellion and mucked things up over in Crasys. With all the commotion, merchants were forced to leave the country because bandits became a bigger problem by the day. Of course, it caused people like us to resort to banditry too,¡± The man spat. ¡°Always been like this. Some person higher up always ends up causing problems for the people down below.¡± ¡°That doesn¡¯t justify you attacking my party with the intent to kill.¡± ¡°It damn well doesn¡¯t, but no other choice was presented to me. Telh¡¯ran had eyes for your Galeboat, and the weak had no choice but to follow the strong. Simple as that.¡± ¡°What do you want?¡± Alen asked again, more a statement than a question as his mana slowly died down. The man nodded. ¡°I¡¯ll get to the point,¡± He sucked in a breath, before raising his head and looking at the necromancer with a steely gaze. His eyes had changed color, turning into a bloody crimson. ¡°I want you to keep my soul here, in this space. Away from the clutches of the God of Death. I won¡¯t dissipate like the rest you fought, and in exchange, I¡¯ll give you powers you could only dream of. After all, my time dead hasn¡¯t been spent on nothing,¡± He said. ¡°All I need is for you to slaughter my enemies for me, and to keep my soul from Thagathos¡¯s grip.¡± Alen looked at him silently. Something about the sudden change was profoundly suspicious¡ªas if he was walking into a contract with the devil. He didn¡¯t want to risk it. ¡°No,¡± Alen decided. ¡°You don¡¯t have a choice,¡± The man growled. ¡°I am¡ª¡° He was interrupted by an explosion of Rotflame, the black-green fire swallowing him whole. It roared, lighting the surrounding area in a flickering green light. Finally, the flames died down to reveal a skeleton with bones the color of twilight. On its head and body were precious gems that seemed to have naturally formed along with the skeleton itself. It looked at Alen, and the bones in its face were distorted, seeming to smile widely at him. ¡°Color me impressed,¡± It said, its voice reverberating and powerful. The necromancer stared at the skeleton with a frown, too tired mentally to feel shocked. Right now, all he wanted to do was to lie down and sleep. ¡°Leave me the fuck alone,¡± Alen growled, his magic flaring with a howl as a circle of green flames exploded out from his body, slamming against an invisible shield that protected the undead. Killing, killing, killing. He just wanted to rest. He could feel the blood in his hands, heavy and viscous, even though none stained his physical form, he could feel it. The numbness¡ªthe weight. The skeleton waved a hand, and the fire in the area coalesced into a single black-green crystal the size of a fingernail. It threw the piece at Alen who caught it. ¡°Now, now. Our chat officially starts as of this moment,¡± It said. ¡°Wouldn¡¯t want to end it on a sour note, yes?¡± The necromancer stared on with a sour expression, the being in front of him was too powerful. He felt no oppressive pressure, but it was obvious this skeleton wasn¡¯t his every day pile of bones. Alen forcefully calmed himself in the only method he knew how, and before long, his lips were slowly twitching upwards into a confident-looking grin. Alen looked at the skeleton and animatedly waved his hand to the side. ¡°You know, I¡¯m getting tired of asking this question, but what do you want?¡± It looked at him curiously, finding the human¡¯s mannerisms¡­ interesting. The smile the human in front of it wore was stiff, but any passing glance would suggest that his expression was normal. It seemed this person was used to behaving as such. Its voice rang out with a hint of curiosity, like a scientist observing a new specimen. ¡°Do you have a love for posturing? Does the faked confidence dissuade the ones stronger than yourself, human?¡± He raised an eyebrow upon seeing that he was seen through. He guessed it was too forced with the sudden change. Alen sighed and took the smile off his face. ¡°Well, that, sure, but it¡¯s mostly for other reasons.¡± ¡°Do pray tell.¡± ¡°I mean, what¡¯s the point?¡± He paused, before continuing. ¡°Of having any other expression on your face, I mean,¡± He looked up with his hands in his pockets for a moment, before looking back down at the skeleton that seemed to be waiting for him to finish. ¡°Well, during hard times, at least. Frowning endlessly doesn¡¯t do shit, and sulking like a little bitch won¡¯t solve your problems, so why not stand up, tell yourself a joke, and face the problem with a smile spits in the face of your demons with a nice little ¡®fuck you¡¯?¡± The skeleton tilted its head. ¡°Few people find themselves telling clever jokes in difficult circumstances.¡± A derisive laugh escaped Alen¡¯s lips. ¡°Who the fuck said I was clever? My sense of humor is garbage. I can literally say just the word penis and find it funny,¡± He pushed back his hair¡ªan old habit, and went on. ¡°It¡¯s vulgar, juvenile, and people have criticized me for it. It¡¯s found me friends, though. And it¡¯s helped me through some hard times. As long as I can laugh, I won¡¯t break. I appreciate it for that.¡± ¡°Interesting to hear from a person the Lord has found entertaining,¡± It gestured around itself. ¡°Most of the other trial takers are quite serious. The cold glares and killing intent gets old after a few centuries, you know? Only the other servants have gotten ones like you, and they¡¯re few and far between for a god with such a¡­ bleak history.¡± ¡°So you are someone sent by Thanatos.¡± ¡°Thagathos,¡± The skeleton coughed, correcting him. ¡°And yes, I am one of his thousands of minor servants, and I am here to observe you in his place.¡± ¡°Wow, he really stresses the ¡®slight interest¡¯ portion of that system message. Aren¡¯t the gods omniscient?¡± Alen asked, letting out a silent breath and feeling calmer after talking about the things only five people in his life knew about him. Strangers had always been, and always will be great people to share secrets with, because they don¡¯t really care about your secrets at all. Alen focused his gaze back at the skeleton. It shook its head. ¡°There are things even the gods themselves cannot see,¡± The skeleton waved its hand, and Alen felt a foreign mana surge into his space. An intense feeling of invasion flooded him for a moment, before it settled down as the ground began to quake. Slowly, a mansion as black as the color of his mana rose from the ground behind the skeleton. It slowly stepped in, closing the doors behind it. Alen felt his magic rise. ¡°My mana capacity¡­ increased?¡± He muttered, looking dumbfoundedly at the magnificent mansion. ¡°¡­Who are you?¡± ¡°My name is Selerius,¡± The skeleton simply said. ¡°Hundreds of years ago, the world knew me as The Silencer¡ªThe Undying Lich. Consider it a little compensation for my¡­ stay here, within your soul¡¯s space.¡± Selerius walked in and finally shut the door. Suddenly, the ground underneath Alen shattered, and the world was engulfed in an infinite black. He fell faster and faster, a powerful drowsiness flooding over his senses as he passed innumerable motes of light that seemed to contain all of his memories and experiences. His eyelids began to feel heavier. Heavier. He fell, and soon, his mind was conscious no more. He simply continued to fall.This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source. He was falling, and falling, and falling. Deeper and deeper, until finally, it stopped. Alen woke up with a start. His upper body jolted forward, his eyes completely wide as he panted heavily. Sweat rolled down his forehead, and a feeling akin to waking up from a nightmare filled his mind. He immediately raised his hand and opened his status.
Status:
Name: Alen Race: Human Type: Necrotic
Health: 100% Stamina: 100% Mana: 13%
Strength: 16 Dexterity: 18 Agility: 16
Constitution: 19 Vitality: 14 Resistance: 16
Intelligence: 36 (++) Wisdom: 47 (+++) Control: 41 (+)
Skills:
Mana Programming, Dominate Undead, Blightbolt, Necrotic Blessing, Numb Senses, Summon Skeletal Minion, Rotfire Blast, Deathchill Touch, Bone Spear, Skeletal Rupture, Vitality Drain
System Applications:
AutoBone, System Notepad
After seeing his stats, Alen let loose a little sigh. His shoulders slumped, and he seemed to lose the strength in his body as he leaned against the wall. He looked up at the ceiling and closed his eyes, going back to sleep. When he awoke once again, it was already late into the night. His eyelids fluttered open. The eye bags weighing down his face had faded by the tiniest bit. Wordlessly, he left the cave. The canyon was dark, and the ribbons of light that fell from the moon were the only things that illuminated the area. As he idly walked, he found himself putting on a smile by reflex. He frowned and took it off his face. Alen still felt it in his hands. The blood¡ªthe viscosity, the thickness of it. He could almost see it. Smell it. ¡°Fucking hell,¡± He muttered, dousing his hands in water. The water of course failed to wash it away, as the blood was not there at all. Flames exploded into life and covered his palms, drying them without harming himself. The remains of the water splattered onto the ground as the flames sputtered out. The ground began to tremble, and far away, Alen spotted the segmented figure of a Droughtworm making its way towards him. Its figure slid in and out of the surface of the sand, stalking towards him patiently as if he was cornered prey. Alen was not prey. It charged out of the sand, causing it to explode in a wave of dust. Alen saw this as if it was slow-motion, his increased intelligence making the fifth threshold creature¡¯s speed seem insignificant. It¡¯s maw opened to swallow, but Alen had moved his hand as soon as the worm had surged out of the sand. With a flick of his wrists, a small piece of bone shot out from his hand, shuddering from the sheer amount of mana filling it. It reached the worm¡¯s mouth, and then¡ª Purple blood violently splattered into the sand. It was his spell, Skeletal Rupture. Alen looked up at it. Thin, finger-sized spears of bone had exploded out in all directions, stabbing into the sand and into the canyon walls. It held the creature in the air, its insides torn and lacerated as it was held suspended in what looked like a massive web of spiked enamel. The necromancer waved his hand and turned it to black ash with a plume of black-green flames. Some pieces of the chitin resisted the flames, falling to the ground in various charred states. Alen looked down at them, the spears of bone fading away into dust. He reached out his hand to grab them, but stopped. The necromancer stared and incinerated them too. Finally, he started walking forward once again. A while later, he had climbed a slope to reach one of canyon¡¯s upper levels, a place he¡¯d found in his meaningless wandering. The horizon was lathered in darkness. He sat at the top and breathed in the air. All around him were pieces of chitin, scattered about as some sort of weaponized defense system. He reached into a pocket of his robe and brought out a small, green crystal. Mana pulsed inside of it, bathing his hand in a faint emerald glow. ¡°Gods, huh.¡± He looked up at the sky, wondering if some being up there was watching him. He shook his head. The dream was real. That meant Selerius was, too. He had the crystal, and Alen knew he could use it to cast some sort of empowered Rotfire Blast. The same kind he was able to cast in that¡­ space. Was that what the inside of his soul looked like? He had a skeleton in there now, watching him. He clenched his teeth tightly, looking at the scar on his palm. This was not the fantasy world experience he wanted. He was alone on the first day. And now, he was alone again, with no way to contact anyone but his friends. Even that only served as a temporarily relief. Why wasn¡¯t it going smoothly? They weren¡¯t unique. They didn¡¯t have special powers. From what books and people had told him, they were just unlucky enough to win a lottery and earned a ticket straight into hell. Alen wanted to see the world. He wanted to explore, but everything kept getting in his way. Undead, Alexandrius, and now, this. To him, being alone was the worst thing possible. There was a clear dividing line between solitude and loneliness. The former, he could appreciate. But the latter? Alen hated it. He despised it. He hated feeling alone. Out in this desert, in this shithole of a canyon, who could he rely on? No one. No one but himself. There were no companions. There were no laughs. No bad jokes. Just his mind, and the silence that stalked it. He hated being unable to laugh freely. It was like seventh grade all over again; a time when he had to put a smile on his face to show that he wasn¡¯t bothered. A time where when he pretended to be happy for long enough, he¡¯d forget that he was pretending. He booted up his phone and stared at the screen. Cracks webbed the interface, and some of the colors were distorted from the damage. It flickered to life and displayed the charge. Seven percent. He¡¯d been using it a lot after he came to the canyon. He ignored it and plugged in the earphones. Alen selected one of his favorite songs, and the slow, bittersweet tune filled his hearing. Six percent. Images. He opened the gallery and scrolled through it one by one. The most recent ones were a few screenshots he took while playing games. One had him and Anne playing as female characters in an MMO and harassing random guys. Another was a video of Bernard tying a noose as a joke in front of their English teacher. Five percent. He smiled and flicked through more. A sleepover. A short clip he¡¯d recorded just in time of Adam pressing a stuffed bear to his behind and saying the words: ¡®shuck my ass¡¯. More images. There was a few of their trip after the end of a school year. He¡¯d destroyed Sam in air hockey that time. They ended up running out of the arcade laughing madly because of the absurd play he pulled. Another one flashed into the screen. One of James being absolutely terrible at pool. Alen laughed. Next, there were a few pictures of his dog. A spoiled one. Alen still remembered falling asleep beside it and waking up three in the morning after it got bored and decided to jump at his face. There was one with his brother. They¡¯d gone out to steak that night, and his older brother had dragged him past the steakhouse to watch movies until 1AM on a school night. Over an hour had passed by now. He smiled, a brightness in his eyes. Two percent. A few more of his family. One of his sisters, with his mom awkwardly fiddling with a remote in the background. One of a time when he and his dad went out and had a great night eating in a restaurant. His hair had grayed then. Was he okay right now? How did they react to his disappearance? Alen was grinning, but his vision was blurring. One percent. What he knew would be the final song began to play as he stared at the screen. Well we wander away from this normal everyday of this flooded town we call home. I still lay awake, nostalgic for days when there weren¡¯t any cracks in the road. It¡¯s all playing out. I don¡¯t see a reason and I¡¯ve had my doubts. It was too easy; a long shot. It fell right in my hand. A shortcut to a place with no end. Whatever you want me to see¡­ I just can¡¯t find it. The instrumental came in, a tone he couldn¡¯t identify as either sad or happy. It was both. Alen loved this song. Captain, my captain go down with your ship, He looked at his dad¡¯s face. Then his brother¡¯s¡ªhis mother¡¯s¡ªhis sisters. He engraved them into his memory, afraid of forgetting their smiles. He didn¡¯t want to forget them. He hoped they didn¡¯t forget him. You came and you captured, Alen gripped his phone tightly, his hands shaking as he held his breath. His eyes stung, but he refused to let it out. I think this is i¡ª¡ª The phone¡¯s screen abruptly turned black. It took the song away with it. It took his family away with it. Alen lurched forward and clutched it to his chest, the tears spilling from his eyes. Alen frantically pressed at the power button repeatedly, hoping for a miracle to come to life. ¡°Come back, please¡­ come back,¡± He repeated; the phone was dead. He screamed, the sobs turning into wails as his suppressed emotions exploded out like floodwaters from a shattered dam. Nails dug into his palm¡ªthe pain was sharp. He beat his fists against the sand. He wanted to go home. For the first time in many years, Alen truly cried. Shuffling sounds echoed out from the sands all around him. Tens of thousands of ants the size of one of his fingers were crawling towards him. He had disturbed their rest. The sun was rising. Its light dyed their crimson exoskeletons in a sinister glint. Alen weakly looked up and saw them. A thought flashed through his head. What if he didn¡¯t do a thing? They crawled closer and closer, snapping their mandibles in his direction. Dying didn¡¯t seem so bad. His eyes dully stared at the horizon in front of him. The sun was rising. He saw the horizon slowly moving past, as if he was riding a slow car. Then, he saw it. Legs. Thousands of them. Massive, insect-like legs. They pierced the sand as the canyon moved forward on the back of a gigantic creature. Light glistened, reflected from the carapace. His face felt warm from the sunlight. It was like a scene from fantasy. A memory played in his mind. ¡®Yo, when we graduate from college, are you guys down for a reunion?¡¯ ¡®Yeah. Let¡¯s meet up again man.¡¯ ¡®No thanks. I never wanna see you fags ever again.¡¯ Alen wanted to see them again. Not just his friends, his family too. Magic was omnipotent, right? He wanted to go back. He wanted his life back. Alen would take it back. He would do it¡ªeven if he had to kill. He wanted everything back. His mana surged inside of him, roaring like a wildfire. He was in the Crawling Canyon. It was obvious by now. This was not fantasy. This was his reality now. All around him, the pieces of bone and chitin he¡¯d scattered madly contorted, turning into numerous canines and large insects. The ants paused, examining the horrifying creatures risen from the dead. Black ice crept into their bodies and black-green flames flickered to life in Alen¡¯s hands. His bloodshot eyes shone with an emerald light. In the end, his plan didn¡¯t change. His goals did. He wasn¡¯t getting stronger to survive. He was getting stronger to live. ¡°Fuck the gods and their little playground,¡± He clenched his bloodied fists, the pain of his pierced palms clearing his mind further as he looked up at the sky. ¡°I¡¯m getting out of here and beating the shit out of them for throwing me into this mess.¡± The loud laughter of a certain skeleton rang out from within his mind. His mana flared and he pointed his hand at the army of ants coming towards him. He issued an order to his undead. ¡°Get me my XP.¡± Book 2, Chapter 12: A Voice in His Head Book 2, Chapter 12: A Voice in His Head
[Alen] A gray colored bucket was thrown aside with a little clack, the chitin nosily clattering against the stone floor. A young man with black hair and emerald green eyes stepped out of the makeshift bathroom with a gray towel around his waist. He pushed the similarly chitin-colored curtains to the side and stepped out of the bath. He waved his hand, and with a concentrated look on his face, the droplets of water covering his body were flung right off. Next, his mana churned as a wave of heat blew over his body from above, drying his skin and hair even further. Alen grinned at the ease of which he manipulated mana without a program now. While those did make his spells stronger, it was a lot more convenient to be able to use mana for basic tasks like taking a bath and drying himself without having to create a program for it. He immediately got dressed and sat on a couch he¡¯d found the spare time to create. With a relaxed sigh, he created a glob of water that floated over his outstretched palm. He concentrated further, and slowly, a perfectly circular piece of ice formed at the center of the glob of liquid. He strained his control over magic, leaning forward and watching the sphere smoothen out. Next, it formed tendrils that reached out in all the directions. With another pulse of mana, the tips of the tendrils froze, but still stayed attached to the water. He continued to toy with it, melting, freezing, and moving the water around like playdough. Finally, he finished his practice with a sigh. The water cooled, and he drank it down in a single gulp. He was getting better at controlling mana without a mana program; something that would surely come useful when he didn¡¯t have the time to create one in a difficult situation. Nodding to himself, he stood up and did some light exercise. Over a month had passed since he entered the Crawling Canyon for the first time on a broken Galeboat. In this time, his physique had gone through noticeable changes. While he was nowhere near as strong as a similarly leveled person who invested in physical stats, he was at least fit enough to run for a while without panting like a dog undergoing an aneurysm. The bags under his eyes were almost completely gone, and his person felt a laxness he previously didn¡¯t have. He tapped on the air in front of him and opened his status.
Status:
Name: Alen Race: Human Type: Necrotic
Health: 100% Stamina: 100% Mana: 96%
Strength: 24 Dexterity: 26 Agility: 21
Constitution: 30 Vitality: 25 Resistance: 22
Intelligence: 58 (+) Wisdom: 77 (+++) Control: 64 (++)
Skills:
Mana Programming, Dominate Undead, Deathbolt, Necrotic Blessing, Numb Senses, Numbing Mist, Summon Greater Skeletal Minion, Rotfire Blast, Deathchill Grip, Deathchill Nova, Bone Spear, Skeletal Rupture, Vitality Drain, Drainblast, Blightwater Surge
System Applications:
AutoBone, System Notepad
He grinned. Alen was at the thirteenth threshold now, and looking at the quick growth of his stats made him extremely happy. Over the course of his stay in the canyon, he¡¯d found multiple methods to leave, but he didn¡¯t have enough power to do so. With the buff to Summon Skeletal Minion, his undead were a lot stronger than before upon summoning, but the opposition he faced when he tried to leave the canyon was simply astounding. The last time he tried to leave through a cave that led out of the canyon, he was riding one of his summoned creatures, a Steelwing Dragonfly. He¡¯d killed one after reaching the thirteenth threshold a few days ago, and hurriedly tried to use it to fly out of the canyon when thousands of insects latched onto the Crawling Canyon¡¯s carapace got off and tried to kill him. He barely escaped by collapsing the tunnel he went through, and that resulted in him losing another way outside of the canyon. A sigh left his mouth. The canyon was as much a goldmine as it was wasteland full of traps. The deeper he wandered away from his location, the higher the chances of an encounter with a monster he couldn¡¯t win against. Thankfully nothing like the gigantic serpent he¡¯d encountered on the first day, but enough to make him run away covered in injuries. His undead would mostly get wiped out in those situations too. When was he getting out of this place? He was supposed to be halfway through the Sandsea by now, but he was still twiddling his thumbs in a canyon that threatened to kill him off every time he stepped outside. It was the forest of undead all over again. His friends were off doing their own thing, but he was still stuck here. At the thought of his friends, his face darkened. Sam and Adam had disappeared completely. He and the rest of their group assumed they were busy for the first few days, but after a week? Two weeks of no messages? His grip on his fists tightened. Anne and Bernard were rushing towards the south in order to locate the last place they were heard of: an old ruin infested by undead that they¡¯d been commissioned to clear out. Alen refused to believe they were dead. James was closer to the area and so, he was headed there as well. He told them he had plans to arrive just a month from now. Jamal meanwhile couldn¡¯t do a thing. His half-year contract with the military stopped him from leaving, lest he incur the wrath of an entire army by being branded a deserter. Alen had a bitter expression on his face as he nibbled at a piece of cooked insect meat. His finger tapped on the icon for their group chat.
Egg Chat Room
Alen: Any news on them? Anne: James? James: I told you guys, but I won¡¯t be arriving until a month later. I passed an orc tribe that knew who Sam was, but aside from talking about how he helped them out, I¡¯ve gotten zero news from them Bernard: shit. i hope they aren¡¯t dead. Alen: Me too.
¡°Fuck.¡± He cursed. It was the same as last time. The group chat had been dead for a long period of time. After losing contact with two of his best friends, Alen was in no mood for any lighthearted talk. It was the same for the rest of their group. The lack of relief he got from talking to them was stressful, but Alen wasn¡¯t the same as before. He had to stop sulking about and get to work. He was the same level as Jamal now, who was perpetually roaming the country he started in with a group of soldiers to take out brigands and groups of monsters that threatened the lives of the ordinary folk. It wasn¡¯t enough. He had to get even stronger, or he could risk getting stuck in the canyon for a long time. Thinking this, he gulped down his meal and stood up, walking to the exit of his cave with an urgency to his steps. With a groan, he twisted the knob and opened the door that led outside. He stepped out and felt powerful winds whipping his hair about. His home was currently situated in the face of the canyon wall, in a cave he had carved out by himself using Blightwater Surge¡¯s acid-like properties¡ªa spell he¡¯d developed by mixing water element mana with his Necrotic type. It was a good substitute for his undead insects¡¯ poison when casted using Necrotic Blessing too, so it was great to have against monsters that had particularly thick defenses.Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original. He had moved bases after his crevice by the canyon floor had been attacked by a pack of insect-eating desert wolves. Those had a pack leader even he couldn¡¯t beat at the time, so he was forced to escape by the skin of his teeth. He looked down at the canyon floor below. It was quite steep, and falling from this height would undoubtedly kill him, but he had other means to get down. He felt the threads attached to him¡ªseveral dozens of them, and sent them commands. He looked down, and the sand below began to churn. Slowly, the forms of dozens of undead, nearly sixty of them, made their way out of the sand. Snakes, centipedes, large wolves and hyenas the size of buffalos, beetles, spiders, and wasps. The sand ruptured in their violent ascent. His undead looked up at him and Alen felt a grin creep into his face. It wasn¡¯t over yet. A mound of sand stood behind these undead, and slowly, it began to tremble. A large form gradually began to take shape, sand falling off its form like grainy ribbons. It stood, and with a powerful beat of its four wings, the Steelwing Dragonfly blew away the sand and took flight. The air howled as the massive dragonfly ascended. It beat its wings incredibly quickly, hovering in front of Alen subserviently. His hair whipped about¡ªas if he was standing in front of a helicopter. The necromancer jumped off the platform that led to his makeshift home and smoothly landed on the insect¡¯s back. There, the insect¡¯s carapace had been changed to form a secure saddle, perched just right behind its head. Alen sat down and looked down below one more time. With an order transmitted through the strands, his insect undead took flight. His forces advanced, the snakes and canines speeding through the sand while the spiders and centipedes pierced their legs into the stone and crawled along the walls. Each and every one of them had at least the battle prowess of a warrior at the tenth threshold. Some were as strong as the thirteenth, but they were hard to control and cost a lot of mana to make. While they didn¡¯t possess skills or any of their abilities from back when they were alive, even someone at the fourteenth threshold would have a very bad day if they were unlucky enough to get in Alen¡¯s way. He was deeper into this part of the canyon now, getting closer to the oasis that was occupied by the lion-like beast he had encountered in his first day inside the valley. Of course, Alen had no intention of tangling with it. Even with this many undead, he¡¯d get stomped into a pile of shit if he tried to fight it. No, this place just meant that there were stronger foes to hunt. Not even a few minutes after leaving his home, which was located in an isolated corner, he encountered his first enemy. A single mantis, one the color of blood silently held the corpse of a massive ant in its scythe-like arms. Its cold eyes stared up at Alen and his undead, its sharp mandibles chewing away at the ant¡¯s head. Alen didn¡¯t know what this creature was named, but it didn¡¯t seem like it could threated him. From above, he pointed his finger at the creature, and his undead surged forward. Wolves and hyenas charged, while he felt mana drain from his reserves as the spiders on the walls shot out webs made from the same material his clothes were crafted from. The ant was dropped, and the mantis¡¯s body blurred. It sped forwards, and the webs were split, but the large wolves had gotten close. One tore into its leg and it let loose a screech. More came in, and before it could counter, a skeletal snake sped in and coiled around its torso, pulling it back. The snake¡¯s bones hissed, and a black ice crept into the surface of its body. The rot caused discoloration in the mantis¡¯s carapace. It thrashed around and slammed the snake into the wall. Two centipedes came down on it. Its wings strained, and with a powerful effort, the mantis lifted itself into the air and let out a piercing scream. The wave of force released after the sound caused the air to ripple, and Alen¡¯s face froze. He immediately cast Numb Senses before the wave swept over him. Riiiing! His eardrums ruptured and Alen felt blood drip down his face. The bones in his body trembled from the sheer intensity. He grit his teeth and snapped his fingers, mana flowing into the threads that connected him to the undead wrapped around the centipede. Skeletal Rupture. The snake and undead centipedes immediately burst, their bones expanding rapidly and causing spears of reinforced chitin and enamel to stab into the creature. It crashed and sent the undead down with it, the spears coming out of their body disintegrating into grey dust. It wasn¡¯t over yet, though. Alen looked at the canyon walls. Holes. Tiny holes everywhere. He waved his hand, and a light gray mist surged out, enveloping a wide area around him in a faint coating of gray. Slowly, the forms of numerous heads made their way out of the holes, and before long, hundreds of wasps the size of his fist left their nests. The mist seeped into their bodies, and Numbing Mist took effect, stiffening their limbs and slowing their movements. They charged at him, and Alen suppressed his panic. He narrowed his eyes, and just before they converged on the Steelwing Dragonfly he was riding on, its wings stopped beating. Air buffeted his robes as they fell, and just above Alen, the insects slammed into each other, gathering in a single place. He pointed his palm upwards and his eyes glowed with a bright emerald light. Bang! A bright green light exploded above him, signaling the activation of his spell¡ªthe variant of Vitality Drain that he¡¯d improved to become pure draining energy¡ªDrainblast. Green motes of light surged into him and repaired his eardrums, and then, he heard the screeching. The wasps shriveled up, weakened by his attack, but avoiding outright death. They sped forward, splitting apart in order to surround him. Alen grinned and activated another spell. Deathchill Nova. A wave of black frost exploded out from him, completely enveloping the surrounding insects. It discolored the flesh to a dark purple, before their bodies bloated explosively. Finally, they burst, their rotted insides spilling all over the canyon walls. Alen felt the mana surge into him. He nodded. It was a good amount. If he kept going at this rate, it would take him just another two days of hunting monsters to reach the fourteenth threshold. He sent his undead forward once again, leaving the scene of carnage behind in search of more prey. At this rate, he¡¯d end up clearing this section of the canyon of the weaker monsters. He looked upwards at the scorching sun. The sooner he left, the sooner he could search for his friends. Alen nodded and continued forward. It was already dark when Alen returned to his home. He stared down at the sand below, watching his undead slowly dig themselves under the sand to await his next orders. It was a fruitful day. He¡¯d lost a few undead, most noticeably his spiders and beetles, but he¡¯d replaced them with stronger ones. He¡¯d found that buffing the mana-muscles that let his undead move made them harder to control, along with the fact that the strands he¡¯d plucked from their souls sometimes failed to keep up with their stats, reducing their overall effectiveness. So now that his weaker undead were gone, he could replace them with stronger ones. While increasing their strength to his level caused the amount of undead he could control to lessen, he would rather have an elite force over an army of weaklings. He opened his status and observed his spell list. He¡¯d come a long way after just a month in the canyon. He¡¯d created a few new spells, but he decided to keep them as-is for now. It was fairly cluttered already, and he wanted to get the hang of using the spells effectively before creating new ones. For now, he¡¯d focus on improving them further. The mana costs for most of them had reached reasonable levels, and Alen could finally afford to toss them around without constantly worrying about his reserves. The bonus to his mana capacity that he¡¯d gotten from that strange skeleton named Selerius helped, too. Alen knew the skeleton was still in there somewhere, but he didn¡¯t even have any methods to enter his soul¡¯s space, much less get into contact with the skeleton. It had been silent for the whole month since he¡¯d talked to it in his mental space. Alen wasn¡¯t comfortable knowing that it was in there somewhere, but he really couldn¡¯t do anything about it. He pulled open his status and viewed his mana programs, scanning the lines of code and trying to find ways to compress them further. Summon Greater Skeletal Minion, or SGSM in his head, helped him summon stronger minions more effectively. The upgrade had come around after he managed to have his undead take flight. Turns out, it wasn¡¯t weight getting in the way, but his magic. The lines of code in SSM¡ªSGSM before the upgrade¡ªapparently didn¡¯t let the orange and blue strands of muscle memory and mental processing to reach their full potential, causing his undead to take more mana to buff and summon, along with limiting them to some pretty basic movements unless he personally took control of one of them. Well, simple for his level, at least. Now that he had SGSM, the difference between his undead from a month ago and now was almost tangible. His undead actually took the initiative to cooperate now, which made a massive difference compared to when he had to command them to link up attacks. Back then, unless given orders, they¡¯d just take turns attacking, which completely defeated the purpose of their large numbers. After all, what was a large amount of undead if he couldn¡¯t even use them to overwhelm his foes? He shrugged. The spell was better now anyways. He managed to compress a couple of lines before moving on to the next spell. This one was pretty useful for carving. Blightwater Surge. He¡¯d carved out the cave using it, but with a bit of focus and control, he could conjure smaller amounts of the acid-like water and use it to make little sculptures¡ªthe little hobby he started doing in his spare time to keep himself sane enough to not talk to a rock named Will Son. Speaking of which¡­ Alen looked at his bed. It was a bit crude, but it was soft and comfortable enough. Beside it stood a table where he placed the sculptures he¡¯d made. To be honest, they were pretty shit. His Control stat wasn¡¯t high enough to accurately manipulate something as powerful Blightwater, resulting in somewhat shabby sculptures. They were cool, though. Alen liked them. He even named one Will. The one to Will¡¯s right was named Son. ¡°This is fucking depressing,¡± He sighed and moved on from examining Blightwater Surge. He couldn¡¯t figure out any ways to compress it further. It seemed like he would have to re-write the mana program in order to reduce the cost by even more, because something in the way he coded it was definitely stopping him from fixing it. Next came Drainblast. He liked this spell. It was his first spell that purely utilized energy. It wouldn¡¯t do any physical damage on hit like Vitality Drain¡¯s projectile variant which withered the flesh, but it siphoned a lot more health from his enemies. He deleted a few lines of code and replaced them with better ones before moving on. Alen repeated the process for about an hour, stopping halfway through Blightwater Surge¡¯s new program to drink some water. He cooled it with the ice element mana he¡¯d purified and drank, the cool fluid sliding down his parched throat. So far, Alen had cleaned wind, ice, earth, and light type mana of Necrotic mana, which opened up a lot of paths for him. He was aiming to purify lightning next. It would make for a good spell when mixed with his main mana type. His hand reached into a box and pulled out some dried meat. He could use earth type mana to extract salt, surprisingly. There were some traces of it in the sand and stones for some reason. Since the place was named the Sandsea, Alen shrugged at the existence of saltsand too. It was a fantasy world. He had nothing to complain about. It took quite a toll on him to eat shitty insect jerky every day, but beggars and starving necromancers couldn¡¯t be choosers. Well, it wasn¡¯t as if the food was bad anyways. That, or his taste buds had degraded to the point of not knowing what good food was. Maybe his usage of Numb Senses while eating to forget about the shitty taste played a part. It probably didn¡¯t. This meat was tasty, and maybe, just maybe, if he kept telling himself that, it would actually start tasting good. He took a bite. It didn¡¯t. Alen grumbled and cast Numb Senses, wolfing down the meat before washing it down with copious amounts of water. This shit was better fried, but he didn¡¯t have oil, much less a metal pan to do it in. He washed his face with water. He didn¡¯t have a mirror, and he hadn¡¯t cut his hair in a month. He pulled a lock down, and it was enough to cover his left eyes. He was definitely in need of a cut. Alen was never the kind to have good facial hair, but a few hairs had grown on his chin and he wanted them out before he gained the habit of caressing them while cackling to himself. That would just be miserable. His status screen flared to life, and he checked the chat room again. No news. He was asking almost every day, but he knew it would get nowhere. He had to wait. Wait a month until James arrived at where Adam and Sam were last seen. The necromancer sighed and pushed his long hair up away from his eyes. He tossed his boots to the side, lying down on the bed and looking up at the ceiling. It was going to be another long day tomorrow, so sleep was necessary. It was better to have a clear mind in the middle of a fight after all. He didn¡¯t want to run into some absurdly strong creature all muddleheaded and sleepy. Although eternal sleep sounded fairly appealing as an alternative this shithole of a canyon, getting out sounded even better. He was definitely hunting this mountain-range sized centipede down when he got stronger. He closed his eyes in preparation to sleep when a voice resounded out in his consciousness. He jumped and opened his status. Alen knew this voice. As soon as it rang out, he saw a figure in his mind. A girl, leaping through trees, her hair the color of snow fluttering through the wind as she pulled an arrow against the string of her bow. ¡°¡­Alen?¡± Lynn¡¯s shocked voice rang out in his mind, the voice chat icon glowing to signal that she was in range. He practically bolted out of the door, jumping down from his home to land on the back of the Steelwing Dragonfly that he¡¯d hurriedly ordered to get out of the sand. ¡°I¡¯m on my way, Lynn.¡± He said, feeling the massive smile on his face. He laughed. This was going to be a long night. Book 2, Chapter 13: Old Enemies In New Places Book 2, Chapter 13: Old Enemies In New Places
[Alen] The incessant beating of massive insect wings filled his ears, the background zooming past him like water sprayed on paint. Below, his undead dashed through the sand, scuttled along the walls, and zipped through the air. He looked down at them and felt the grin on his face. They were here. Lynn was here. A voice was transmitted into his ears. Male. Alen remembered his back, constantly at the front, leading the offense and maintaining the defense¡ªRoland. ¡°Alen? I¡¯m glad you¡¯re alive, but why are you in the Crawling Canyon?¡± ¡°The piece of the Galeboat that flew off brought me here,¡± He said. ¡°where are you guys? I¡¯m flying right there.¡± ¡°Be careful. This place is dangerous. Look for a¡ª¡° ¡°Flying?¡±Lynn¡¯s voice interrupted Roland¡¯s. ¡°Yes. Flying. On the back of a giant dragonfly. Also, look for a what, Roland? Can you send a signal up or something?¡± Alen heard Roland talk to some people in the background. There were some noises of protest, but a single bark from someone seemed to silence them. Alen frowned. Why did he feel like he knew this voice? A flash of light caught his attention, faint and almost invisible. It barely went over the canyon¡¯s walls, its radiance too shy to alert the insects. He nodded and redirected his undead towards it. Lynn¡¯s voice rang out. ¡°Did you see it?¡± ¡°Yeah. I¡¯m headed over there.¡± ¡°Too dangerous. Stay where you are. Without any undead, this canyon¡¯s too dangerous for you. We¡¯re heading deeper, so we¡¯ll meet up with you eventually,¡± Roland said. ¡°We have people with us, so it¡¯ll be safer.¡± Alen stopped his undead and considered it for a moment. ¡°I have undead. A lot of them. I¡¯ll get as far as I can, then I¡¯ll wait for you guys there. This canyon has a lot of paths. Where are you guys headed?¡± ¡°There¡¯s a large spire of rock up north. Near the centipede¡¯s head, and the most dangerous part of the canyon. We can¡¯t stop the group, but we¡¯ll try to meet up with you before it gets too dangerous.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll just go and find you guys, then. I¡¯ve been here for a month, and I haven¡¯t diedyet, so Ishouldbe able to navigate it safely.¡± ¡°Fine,¡± Lynn¡¯s voice assented. ¡°Just be careful.¡± ¡°Yeah,¡± Alen said, then ended the voice call. His undead tore through the air, and he flew lower than he usually did, guiding his small army through the shadows cast by the light of the moon. The faint rustling of disturbed sand and tapping stone filled his ears, his undead covering all his openings. He turned and corner and spotted something. An insect¡ªa wasp, one that feasted on the corpse of a large caterpillar. He sent his undead forward before it could even make a sound. Bone serpents coiled and centipedes spit out Blightwater, melting carapace and crushing what remained. Beetles and undead wasps surged in from the sky, their sharp horns and stinger killing it. Alen felt a wave of mana enter him. The creature was weak. With a wave of his hand, his undead continued forwards, a bone wolf tearing off a piece of the carapace and delivering it to him. He took it and poured his mana in, summoning the creature. It cost a lot less now. The wasp joined his group, adding another member to his growing swarm. Alen winded through pathways he¡¯d previously tread, killing insects on the way. Most of the stronger creatures were asleep, so it was relatively easier to navigate the canyon. He passed the remains of his section of the Galeboat and couldn¡¯t keep the smile off his face. He¡¯d come a long way. He flew higher, making extra sure to not fly too far above the canyon as it would alert the monsters that slept above it. His eyes scanned the horizon. Was it worth it to risk flying over the canyon? It would save him time, and it would stop him from getting lost. As long as he stuck to the top layer, the insects wouldn¡¯t swarm. They were stronger up there, but he was strong too. He could fight their numbers with his. He¡¯d done it before. It had dragged on too long and he lost most of his undead, but he¡¯d gained a threshold during the experience. ¡°Screw it,¡± His remaining beetles and wasps picked up his undead that couldn¡¯t fly, serving as transport. He flew over the canyon wall and the dragonfly settled on the top. His undead silently positioned themselves around him. It was relatively clear. He could see the canyon floor from up here. The entire rock formations weaved together like snake and string, a labyrinth formed from the natural degradation of rock. His movements were slow. The top still had cover he could use. Under the moonlight, he cast Necrotic Blessing and coated his undead in a layer of black-green mana that did nothing much, merely letting them blend into the darkness further. It didn¡¯t hold any offensive nature, so the drain on his mana capacity was low. Eventually, he spotted a large mound of sand. He shuddered. Termite nest. Ones that didn¡¯t eat wood, but chomped apart stone and iron for food. Alen avoided it completely. He opened the voice chat. ¡°Can you send a signal again?¡± The flash of light came again. A bit more to his left this time¡ªcloser. He steered his undead that way. His minions continued to creep forward, avoiding the holes in the ground and wall that the monsters nested in. It was safe. He was safe. ¡°Hey,¡± Lynn¡¯s voice rang out. ¡°Hey,¡± He said, smiling. It was unusual. It felt so refreshing to talk. He didn¡¯t know how much he missed it until he felt that warmth again. ¡°So¡­ how do I start this?¡± She asked. ¡°Why, exactly, are you in one of the Sandsea¡¯s danger zones? Monsters here reach up to the fortieth threshold deeper in.¡± ¡°I could say the same to you. You don¡¯t sound like you crashed here.¡± ¡°We didn¡¯t. To be honest, after a month of searching, we gave up looking for you,¡± She paused, unsure of how to continue. ¡°I¡¯m sorry. You¡¯re new to it, but in this world, death is¡­ easy. We thought you died after we got separated.¡± He pursed his lips. Alendidfeel kind of hurt, but he understood. He realized it himself. Death was easy to find, and easy to give. He hadn¡¯t known them nearly as long as he did Adam and the others. The fact that they focused on searching for him for an entire month was enough for him. He shook his head, the smile returning. ¡°It¡¯s alright. Though I¡¯m pretty offended that you think I¡¯d die off that easily. Where¡¯s the trust?¡± Lynn was silent for a while, and then she laughed. ¡°I forgot you were harder to kill off than a cockroach. I won¡¯t doubt you next time.¡± ¡°See? Better. If we ever get separated, I¡¯ll hunt you two down to the ends of the earth to prove a point.¡± ¡°Really makes me feel better.¡± ¡°I¡¯m a natural.¡± ¡°A natural stalker?¡± ¡°Better keep your underwear safe, or they might just get stolen.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll have Roland carve alarm runes into them.¡± Alen laughed. It came out naturally, which surprised him. He surveyed his surroundings again, making sure that nothing was coming it way towards him. His minions would alert him if they sensed something, but it was better to make sure. Nothing. He nodded and continued talking to the friend he felt like he hadn¡¯t seen in an eternity. ¡°I don¡¯t know about you, but Roland gives off the closet sexual deviant vibe.¡± He heard her laugh. ¡°His love for runesisgetting worrying, I have to admit. I don¡¯t know what he does to that runebook of his when he¡¯s alone in his tent at night.¡± ¡°Probably not anything healthy.¡± ¡°You two do realize I¡¯m in this chat room as well, right?¡± ¡°What? I didn¡¯t know that,¡± Lynn joked. ¡°We¡¯re talking about you exactlybecausewe know you¡¯re in here.¡± Roland let out an audible sigh and told them he was going to do something. Alen shrugged and bid farewell to Lynn. They could talk later. The faster he reached them, the better. Alen sped up the pace. He was about halfway there now. The top of the canyon was clearer than usual. He frowned. Something was wrong. A star in the sky abruptly disappeared in the distance. More began to disappear, then reappear again¡ªflickering like a sputtering light. They weren¡¯t going away, no¡ªsomething was blocking them. Alen strained his eyes and saw it. In the darkness, a mass flew through the sky. No, rather, it was a swarm. A swarm of insects. Their black forms were shrouded in darkness, zipping through the air in their thin wings. They flew; flew towards the signals of light Lynn and Roland sent. Alen saw the massive form leading them and paled. He hurriedly opened the voice chat. ¡°Lynn, Roland! Get the fuck out! Something¡¯s coming towards you guys!¡± No reply. The necromancer grit his teeth and his mana flared. Immediately, his undead spurred into action. The wolves dashed¡ªthe spiders jumped¡ªand the massive dragonfly he was riding on burst into the air with a buzz of its great, long wings. Alen rushed forward without a care, a powerful desire to slaughter filling his darkened expression. Those insects had an army, He had one too. Roland dashed around the camp like a headless chicken, passing lizardmen who were hurriedly setting up what looked to be cannons. A mage raised his arms and conjured a wall of stone upon which the weapons were mounted. More followed, creating the platforms in the canyon wall where the ranged attackers would sit. He grabbed a bag of javelins and followed them up, he looked up at the approaching black mass and felt a calm rush through his system. It was a familiar feeling. It spoke to him¡ªtold him a battle was coming. Beside him stood Lynn, the elf clutching her bow, checking the arrows in her quiver, and inspecting the pouches strapped to her waist. She¡¯d come up with some nasty tricks since the Maelstrom of Dust blew them away. He looked below and spotted a single crimson-scaled lizard standing on top of the erected stone walls, barking orders to his men. Alexandrius. Roland had remembered his invitation, and decided that it would be best to join him. The man had connections. They¡¯d given up on searching for Alen by themselves, and concluded that if Alexandrius¡¯s men couldn¡¯t find him, he was most likely dead. Roland lamented at how easily lives were lost, especially in the path that he had chosen. ¡°Fire!¡± A lizardman beside Alexandrius shouted, and with a roar, the cannons sent forth streams of light. It collided against the mass of invertebrates and exploded into a brilliant display of flames, green ichor and insect innards bursting outwards like bloody fireworks. Powerful weapons, those cannons. Roland didn¡¯t know what they were called, but it wasn¡¯t hard to recognize the gnomish technology that powered it. He shook his head. Gnomes were terrifying engineers, blending technology and magic almost seamlessly to dominate entire battlefields. He was glad that they mostly kept to themselves, avoiding conflict with the other races who didn¡¯t dare trifle with the short little geniuses. Lynn finished checking her equipment and nodded at him, holding an arrow in her fingertips and looking on at the swarm of insects with a soft smile. ¡°This¡¯ll be fun.¡± ¡°I¡¯d prefer sharing a few stories over a fire and some beer,¡± He said. ¡°That¡¯s something you do when you have stories worth telling.¡± ¡°And I don¡¯t?¡± ¡°I¡¯m fairly positive.¡± He shook his head. ¡°Well, do you have any?¡± Lynn shrugged. ¡°I took a walk last night.¡± ¡°And?¡± ¡°It was nice.¡± ¡°Excellent,¡± Roland nodded, propping his shield up as she raised her bow to aim at the approaching swarm. The mages gathered their mana, over a hundred lizardmen preparing themselves for battle. Alexandrius had only brought the best. The Crawling Canyon was a dangerous place, and even someone at the thirtieth threshold would be threatened deeper within. The orange-haired warrior¡¯s sword was sheathed. Instead, he held a javelin in his hand, the runes engraved on the shaft burning with a pale grey light. He took aim, and just before he threw it, nearly a dozen arrows zipped past him, glowing with a pale blue light. They shot through the air and with a terrifying accuracy, they pierced the exoskeletons of numerous foes. Roland glanced at Lynn and grinned, aiming for a massive mosquito. It tore through the air, dodging cannon blasts and swooping in with its sword-like proboscis to slice off a lizardman¡¯s arm. Roland sucked in a breath and then¡ª¡ª A gray flash ripped through the air. The mosquito turned and intercepted the light with its proboscis in a panicked move to defend itself.Snap!The proboscis shattered. The javelin stabbed further and shot into its body, the shockwaves turning its insides to mulch. It continued forward as the mosquito fell to the ground behind it. It missed the next insect, but one of the runes on its shaft abruptly lit up, and with a flash, the javelin returned to the hand of Roland, who was already in a position poised to throw.If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it. He sent it out once again, killing another large insect. Lynn wasn¡¯t by his side anymore. She ran up the canyon wall, her feet leaving icy marks with every step. She jumped and landed on a giant beetle¡¯s back. The elf shot an arrow and sprung, landing on the back of another insect and wreaking havoc in their ranks. Her bracer, a beautiful ornament containing a variety of elemental stones, flickered with an intense, scintillating light. Arrows shot out from her bow at an astounding rate, covered in ice, fire, and earth. Some sunk into the carapaces of the insects to leave a large, icy mark, before suddenly exploding as soon as its host neared the rest of its kind. Insects rushed towards her, but she was too agile. A beetle charged, and she slid under its flight, an arrow shooting into the monster¡¯s belly. A wasp shot a stinger at her and she twisted, evading the bolt before countering with one of her own. Lynn jumped from insect to insect, diverting their attention to her and reducing the pressure the walls felt. When the arrows on her quiver ran out, she formed her own, bombarding the insects with bolts of ice. Slowly, the insects around her increased in number. She felt the sweat on her brow, and a smile made its way into her face. Who knew fighting could be so fun? Suddenly, she whipped her head, her body twisting with it. The cloak on her shoulders spun, and the tips of the fabric were covered in razor-sharp frost. The web fired at her split in half, sliced cleanly by the tip of her cloak. She gazed at the spider and suddenly found herself in the air without a foothold. A mantis rushed at her, and Lynn hurriedly pulled out a bead from one of the pouches trapped to her waist. The small, green bead shattered in her fist and released a powerful wind, pushing her out of the mantis¡¯s way. She shot toward another foe, and midair, she spun. The upper limb of her bow cracked against the head of a dragonfly waiting to tear her apart. She followed up with a kick, her heel smashing into the insect¡¯s head. It didn¡¯t do much damage, but it gave her momentum. More beads left her pouches, and she crushed them all, the wind blowing her towards the sky. She looked down at the swarm below, watching the light of the cannons burn through their ranks, and spread her arms, a sparkling blue dust leaving her hands. They coated the air around her and trembled, forming into dozens upon dozens of delicate snowflakes. Her eyes glinted. It was time to test her new technique. The snowflakes glowed, then they flickered, and then, suddenly, they were icy arrows raining down on the swarm below. Each arrow tore into an insect, and green blood splattered into the sand below. Lynn felt the mana drain from her body. She was falling now. Her arms were tired from firing arrows, and her mana was on the brink of exhaustion. ¡°This is going to be rough,¡± She muttered, gathering frost to sharpen the tip of her bow¡¯s lower limb. Just before she stabbed it into the canyon wall in an effort to slow her descent, a hand gripped her own. It was warm. She looked up to see bright emerald eyes staring back at hers. Her hair was in her eyes, and the powerful beating of insect wings filled her ears. Lynn looked at the young man in front of her and smiled. He smiled back. ¡°You owe me a drink,¡± He grinned. She laughed, hoisting herself up. ¡°I guess I do, huh?¡± Alen gave her a good look. He hadn¡¯t seen her in a while, and well, he had to admit that he missed her quite a lot. He scanned the scene below. His undead were flanking the insects and attacking them from behind, avoiding friendly fire from the cannons. He scanned the makeshift walls and marveled at the magic used to create them. Then, there above a platform on the canyon wall, he spotted the figure of a familiar orange haired warrior. Roland was staring back at him, and he waved while mouthing the word ¡®hi¡¯. Alen felt a gaze on himself, and suddenly, his spine felt cold. He frowned and looked at the front of the walls. There, a single bloody-scaled lizard was annihilating any monsters that dared to near his group. Alexandrius stared up at him, barking orders towards his engineers with a glint in his eyes. Alen thought it was more intimidating than reassuring. ¡°But really, Alexandrius? I guessed so,¡± Alen slowly said. ¡°but you¡¯re working for him? Really? Bandit lord I¡¯m-going-to-cut-off-four-of-your-fingers-before-I-kill-you and eat your innards Alexandrius?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t think he said that last part.¡± ¡°Well, I certainly remember it that way,¡± Alen sent the dragonfly forward. It swooped down and ripped into the torso of a spider. He waved his hand, and Necrotic Blessings surged out into his undead. Centipedes spat out Blightwater, spiders shot webs at their victims, and snakes and undead tore into the monsters, Rotfire and Deathchill covering their bodies. Lynn shot out arrows of ice at a slower pace beside him. ¡°It was in our best interests.¡± She said, shrugging. ¡°Roland wanted to get stronger, and I wanted to see new places. What¡¯s a better location for that than the Crawling Canyon itself?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know, a beach infested with fifteenth threshold crabs?¡± ¡°There is one, actually. Except it¡¯s infested with sharks that have legs. And the sharks are at the fortieth threshold. Their diets are known to consist of sand and the tears of children.¡± ¡°Really?¡± ¡°No.¡± ¡°I¡¯m genuinely sad.¡± ¡°Right?¡± Lynn said, nocking an arrow before letting it loose. It plunged into the skull of a spider moving up the walls to jump at them. Alen had a single wasp fly into a group of insects. The monsters began to tear into the mana-enforced chitin, but he had other plans. Mana exploded out of Alen¡¯s body, funneling into the strand to cover the single wasp in an intense Deathchill.Hiss!It exploded, and Skeletal Rupture activated to stab multiple bone spears into the bodies of over a dozen monsters. The necromancer felt the mana surge back into his body. It didn¡¯t fill his reserves, but instead brought him closer to the next threshold. It was less than normal, though, as some of it now surged into Roland and Lynn. Alen was surprised about how glad he felt about that. ¡°Alen!¡± Lynn suddenly shouted, and as soon as it had reached his ears, Alen found himself torn away from the Steelwing¡¯s back, Lynn¡¯s hand clasped around his wrist as she jumped, dragging him off with her. A moment later, a boom rang out, and the Steelwing Dragonfly was shattered to pieces by a massive, club-like limb. Alen hadn¡¯t even fully seen the creature that killed his summon, but the feeling of danger he got was spine-chilling. He immediately waved his hand, releasing two spells at once. The shattered remains of his summon exploded into bone spears that shattered against the creature¡¯s arm, while a massive explosion of Rotflame rocked the creature right afterwards. Bone Spear¡ªRotfire Blast. Lynn was flailing in the air. The insects around them had been cleared, and she had nowhere to spring on. They were falling, and not in the way Alen would like. He grit his teeth and channeled his mana into his robes. Immediately, a bone spear with a hooked tip jutted out of the fabric of his sleeve. It pierced the canyon wall, and with a jarring screech, they grinded to a halt. With Alen¡¯s strength, holding both of them wasn¡¯t a problem. A bigger one however, was quickly coming their way. The elf kicked the wall, and Alen severed the bone spear, sending them flying off to the side. An explosion rocked the cliff face behind them. The two rolled across the sand and stopped upon, hitting a rock. Alen groaned. Lynn had elbowed him. She immediately stood up and stared at the creature that had attacked them. It was a terrifying thing, with a large maw full of sharp teeth and four leathery wings that seemed to blot out the sky. With a mighty flap of its arms, sand was sent into the sky, the blast of air making the two stumble back. Alen dived behind a rock, and Lynn followed not a beat behind. A realization dawned on her mid-dive. They¡¯d been using something like a repellant to get them through the less-dangerous parts of the canyon, so insects below the twentieth threshold generally stayed away. So why were these insects here? The answer was right in front of them. ¡°You guys aren¡¯t getting fucking attacked,¡± Alen muttered in disbelief. ¡°you¡¯re standing in the way of a goddamn stampede!¡± He was right. These insects weren¡¯t attacking them. They were running¡ªrunning from something much, much more dangerous. The Demon-blood Bat let loose a screech, and with a popping sound, their eardrums ruptured. Alen hissed, Numb Senses activating on reflex. He saw Lynn clutching her head with a pained expression and reached out. His hand touched her head, and his mana entered her body to ease the pain with one of his oldest spells. She looked at him gratefully and chugged down a potion. The insects were passing the walls now, flying over them and ignoring the cannons after seeing terror incarnate nearing their swarm. Alexandrius had stopped killing them, too. He stared at the giant bat and leaped off the walls, tearing through the sand to approach it. It swooped down. The bat surged through the air with a chaotic wind accompanying it, its massive form looming over them with its claws outstretched. Alen grit his teeth and a spear with a blunted end exploded out from the sole of his boots, propelling them forward. The boulder they were hiding behind was sliced apart, the bat continued on and stuck to the walls. It screeched again, and this time, Alen felt dagger stabbing into his mind in the form of a splitting headache. The Demon-blood Bat saw this and glided in, ready to take the kill when Alexandrius appeared out of nowhere and swung his greatsword. The bat dodged. A boom rang out, and the canyon wall behind it suddenly had a gash raked across its surface. He jumped, sending a pillar of sand into the air. He grabbed its leg, but it was strong too. The blood-scaled lizardman failed to drag it down, so once again, he sent his blade stabbing forward. The bat blocked with a wing, and the piercing scream of metal shrieking against an equally resilient substance rang out. Sparks flew into the air. The bat unsteadily tipped over to the side and slammed into the wall. Alexandrius sprung off before it could. Alen¡¯s legs dug into the sand. He and Lynn were dashing away. His ears were still ringing from the screech. His head hurt. A boulder slammed into the sand beside them. Another was coming. Lynn turned around and fired a ballistic arrow covered in earth. The boulder crumbled into a million pieces, and she continued to run, completely unimpaired by the split-second shot. A large centipede scuttled into view, accompanied by two Droughtworms. Alen dug his hand into the sand mid-dash and raked his fingers across the surface before clawing upwards. Blightwater Surge activated, another piercing ache slammed into his conscious. A wave of black, corrosive water surged up and splashed over the sand in front of them. The centipede¡¯s shell hissed at the corrosion, giving way until it died. The Blightwater sunk into the sand, killing the Droughtworms that swam within it. Alen stumbled. Lynn grabbed his arm and pulled him forward. One of Alen¡¯s minions swept in and they jumped into its back. He almost fell off, but he managed to stabilize his footing as the beetle lifted them up. They sped towards the walls, dodging insects and cannon-fire. A large, golden scarab slammed into their mount. Alen fell off. He saw Lynn¡¯s mouth shout out his name. He was falling again. The canyon walls blurred past his vision. He saw booms and flashes of light¡ªAlexandrius battling the bat. His head felt muddled.Why was it so hard to move?Alen knew. It was the bat¡¯s screech. It was a sort of mental attack. His mana reserves were fine, but it felt like he was experiencing the effects of mana exhaustion. He grit his teeth. This wasn¡¯t the first time he felt it. He wasn¡¯t going to pass out by using magic. What was a little pain? Mana flowed, and something like a claw exploded out from his back, formed from the altered, hardened version of his robe¡¯s fabric. He screeched to a stop. His vision exploded in white from the pain. He felt himself screaming. His nose was bleeding. His eardrums were still ruptured. Alen grit his teeth. His vision was shaking, but the monsters rushing towards him seemed clear as day. He wasnotdying here. He weakly planted himself against the wall and gathered almost all of his mana. Like a massive sinkhole in the center of a lake, the mana gathered at the soles of his boots. Every second was agony. He tasted blood. A deafening ringing filled his ears. Alen mustered his courage and activated his spell. Bone Spear. Boooom!Like pistons, a massive bone spear formed at the bottom of his boots and boomed into the wall. The stone sunk inches deep from the sheer force. Alen was a bullet, and his target was in sight. He sailed over the walls¡ªpast the cannons¡ªpast most of the platforms. Just before he hit the sand, a hand grabbed the end of his robe. He was brought to a sudden to stop, the keratin clothes remaining untorn even after the quick halt. Roland swung Alen over his shoulder and nonchalantly walked down the platform to get him treated. He had Alen drink a potion, and the necromancer felt his injuries knit back up. ¡°Long time no see,¡± He said. ¡°Ugh. My head is dying, Roland. The amount of cool lines I can think up to reply to your greeting is approximately zero,¡± Alen complained, and a moment later, Lynn gracefully landed on the ground near them, covered in dirt and light wounds. She walked over to Roland and laughed. ¡°Has he said anything cheeky yet?¡± ¡°I prefer the word clever¡ª¡± ¡°¡ªHe says he¡¯s too tired, but he¡¯s been doing a pretty good job at it so far. At least the isolation hasn¡¯t turned him all broody and quiet.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know whether to feel glad, or just sad,¡± Lynn shook her head and pulled open the door to what seemed to be some sort of vehicle. The booming of cannons rang out from outside, but the sounds were muffled through the metal walls. Nestled against the walls were many folded beds. Lynn pulled one down and Alen marveled at the size of the vehicle. It seemed to be some sort of sickbay carriage, and it looked like it could hold upwards of thirty to forty people. They helped him onto one of the beds and he covered his face with his forearm and let out a sigh. Roland told him they¡¯d catch up later and walked out to kill more insects. ¡°This feels awfully like our first meeting,¡± Alen told them. ¡°Hm?¡± Lynn was about to go out after Roland when she turned back and tilted her head at the necromancer¡¯s words. ¡°You know, I see you guys massively outclassed by some threat and I wade into the fray with my usual aplomb to save the day. You¡¯re welcome, by the way.¡± He grinned. Lynn pointed outside and grinned back. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t say outclassed. Have you seen those cannons?¡± ¡°Yeah. What are those, anyways? The shots give off an insane amount of mana.¡± ¡°I think they were called Firecannons.¡± ¡°Very apt.¡± ¡°Oh, shut up.¡± She laughed, setting her bow to the side and sitting down. She wiped away some sand that had gotten stuck on her face. ¡°They¡¯re made with a mix of Dwarven and Gnomish know-how, and well, they really live up to their creators¡¯ names.¡± Alen blinked. ¡°I¡¯ve seen Dwarves, but I haven¡¯t seen any Gnomes since I got here.¡± ¡°Me neither,¡± Lynn shrugged. ¡°They live in underground civilizations and keep to themselves. I planned on visiting one, actually.¡± ¡°Yo, I¡¯m down to visit one too.¡± Lynn moved around the sickbay, picking out hazy yellow rocks from a shelf before tossing them into water. Alen watched them melt at a visible rate. ¡°My grandfather said you needed to have some sort of permit to enter without the recommendation of another gnome.¡± ¡°I¡¯m guessing you have one of those?¡± ¡°Nope.¡± ¡°What?¡± ¡°What?¡± She gave him a look. ¡°Icouldsneak in. Maybe.¡± ¡°I mean, if you¡¯re down to get killed a mob of angry Gnome-guards, then sure. Sneak away.¡± The elf dabbed the now yellow liquid to her wounds with a ball of cotton. They very slowly closed up. ¡°I¡¯m planning on traveling the world anyways. I¡¯ll meet a gnome eventually.¡± ¡°What if he doesn¡¯t give a recommendation, though?¡± ¡°I¡¯ll harass him until he does.¡± ¡°You¡¯re fucking terrifying.¡± She laughed. It was clearer now. The explosions outside had stopped. Alen gave her a long look, but before he could say anything, the sound of footsteps rang out from outside. Then, with a creak, the door opened to reveal Alexandrius who quickly sauntered in, covered in blood that wasn¡¯t his own. He grinned at Alen. It was as savage as he remembered. ¡°So your necromancer finally decides to make an appearance. You won¡¯t back out on the deal now, will you Miss Frostwood?¡± ¡°Nope,¡± Lynn shook her head. ¡°I want to see what the rest of the canyon¡¯s like.¡± ¡°Excellent,¡± He said, and Alen gaped.Who the hell was this person?He expected a heap load more threats and a general aura of wanting to hurt someone from the guy. But really, there was something more important to worry about here. He looked at Lynn. ¡°Your last name isFrostwood? What the fuck? Don¡¯t tell me Dwarves put ¡®hammer¡¯ in their last names too?¡± ¡°They actually do,¡± Lynn said. ¡°That¡¯s, I don¡¯t know, racist? Stereotypical?¡± ¡°Right?¡± ¡°You literally have no right to agree with what I just said.¡± Alexandrius leisurely wiped the blood off his armor, and even went as far as to wipe his scales, but it barely did anything to change the crimson color. He looked up at the both of them, then regarded Alen with a glint in his golden eyes. ¡°I¡¯m assuming you¡¯re joining us, necromancer?¡± ¡°Uh,¡± Alen eloquently replied, ¡°yes.¡± ¡°Good. I¡¯ve already had my men gather pieces of bone from that bat¡¯s body. Your friends have taken the time to notify me of what you¡¯re¡­ capable of.¡± He stared at Alexandrius for a long moment, before mustering the courage to ask. ¡°Why aren¡¯t you like, more killing intent-y and all that?¡± ¡°I reserve that side of myself for my enemies,¡± He said, and Alen suddenly felt the room go cold. Sweat immediately lined his back as a powerful bloodlust and pressure washed over him. He nearly staggered off the bed. ¡°Do you want to be treated like one of my enemies?¡± ¡°¡­No,¡± Alen forced it out, keeping the confident smile on his face despite the fear he felt. ¡°Perfect. We have an agreement, then,¡± The crimson-scaled lizard said, before walking back out of the vehicle. The bloodstained cloth in his hands was left on a shelf to the side, and the door creaked shut. Alen stared awkwardly at Lynn who was looking at him in amusement. ¡°What the fuck just happened?¡± Book 2, Chapter 14: A Friendly Spar Book 2, Chapter 14: A Friendly Spar
[Alen] The Crawling Canyon, the mountain of shells, where the sun strikes the back of the God of the Eternal Sands and fails to shine upon the world he scorns in his final breath. Here, my children lie hidden; the fruit of my legacy the key to unlocking what I have never wished to find. 884 17 32 ¨C 784 92 9925 ¨C 11 32 68 32 1 884 17 ¨C 884 17 32 ¨C 784 32 1 A lizardman with scales the color of the sea stood beside Alexandrius, the calm color of his scales contrasting against the images of brutal savagery that flashed through Alen¡¯s head whenever he saw the crimson-scaled bandit chief. Slowly, he read out the riddle written down on the note left behind by Alexandrius¡¯s missing uncle. The lizardmen nearby listened intently, and Alen sat on a rock with his brows furrowed. This didn¡¯t seem like a riddle that lead to wealth, but rather, one that might explain the ¡®missing¡¯ tag people had affixed to Alexandrius¡¯s uncle¡¯s name. ¡°Isn¡¯t it exciting?¡± Lynn asked him, gazing at Alexandrius who was in a calm discussion with the blue-scaled lizardman. ¡°I don¡¯t know about you, but I just want to leave the canyon.¡± ¡°Oh come on,¡± She shook her head. ¡°Who doesn¡¯t want to go on a treasure hunt?¡± ¡°The ones that don''tget said treasure,¡± Alen motioned to the lizardmen, then back to the two of them. ¡°Which in this case, is unfortunately us.¡± He looked around. They¡¯d set up camp in a basin-like area near the center of the Crawling Canyon. Tents had been pitched, monsters were hunted, food was cooked, and Alen was as afraid of Alexandrius as a snake watching a hawk patiently flying overhead. Their camp was quite the distance from the entrance of the canyon, considering how the place was comparable in size to one of the most majestic mountain ranges in the continent. Roland walked up to the two, holding two canisters of water in his left hand. He handed them to Lynn and Alen, and the latter decided it was the perfect time to ask questions. ¡°So I¡¯ve decided that it¡¯s the perfect time to ask questions,¡± Alen nodded. ¡°First of all, doanyof you have an idea as to what that riddle means? I mean, we¡¯re in the Crawling Canyon, that much has been made obvious, but what are we looking for, exactly?¡± The orange-haired warrior shrugged. ¡°I heard from a few of his men that what we¡¯re looking for is his uncles inheritance, whatever that is. Most kind of just assumed that it was the sword his uncle used, the Drakeslayer. It got stronger every time it drank the blood of dragon-kin apparently. Evenmyfamily knew about it.¡± ¡°Aren¡¯t they like, half-drake? Why would they have that kind of weapon in their arsenal?¡± Roland shook his head and looked around to make sure no one had heard the necromancer. ¡°Don¡¯t go around saying that. Their kind takes offense when compared to the savage lesser drakes you¡¯d find on the continent. After all the one that birthed their race can¡¯t even becomparedto your average drake. The Queen was feared by even the dragons themselves.¡± Alen shrugged. ¡°Offense is taken, not given.¡± Lynn idly took a sip off the canister. ¡°In this case, they¡¯d be more than happy to take it, andthengive it. In copious amounts, too.¡± A lizardman approached their group. ¡°Hello. Alexandrius is calling for you three.¡± He said. He seemed like a nice guy. Roland nodded and stood up. Lynn followed, and Alen reluctantly did the same. Once they got to him, the blood-scaled lizardman¡¯s golden eyes rested its gaze upon them. ¡°We have decided that barging into Ortena¡¯s Temple with a large force is a bad idea,¡± The blue-scaled lizardman told them, as if they would understand. Alexandrius nodded. ¡°We¡¯ll be sneaking in.¡± ¡°We?¡±Alen asked. ¡°Yes, we.¡± He replied. ¡°My men might be capable, but they will not be able to stand against the swarms deeper in the canyon. Therefore, I am only bringing the elites.¡± ¡°Did you hear that?¡± Lynn whispered to Alen and grinned. ¡°We¡¯re the elites.¡± ¡°What does he mean, though? If his army can¡¯t take on a swarm, how can we?¡± Roland crossed his arms. ¡°A large group naturally attracts more attention. If there are less of us, we can approach it without risking an attack like last night¡¯s.¡± The lizardman nodded. ¡°We set off this afternoon. Get your equipment ready. Faust, go call the rest of the team for briefing,¡± He said, then waved his hand at Alen and the others to notify them of their meeting¡¯s closure. As they walked away, Alen spoke. ¡°He really doesn¡¯t waste time with small talk.¡± ¡°Well, weareleaving in a few hours.¡± ¡°But don¡¯tweget briefed?¡± ¡°Don¡¯t be ridiculous,¡± Roland said. ¡°His main team is probably getting details on what exactly that temple is, along with a few juicier details. We were hired to fight, and that¡¯s probably the only thing he¡¯ll have us do.¡± ¡°I¡¯m getting the feeling we¡¯ll be acting like glorified meat shields.¡± Lynn shrugged. ¡°It¡¯s Roland¡¯s job description.¡± ¡°You make good points.¡± Roland sighed. It was unfortunate, but it looked like he¡¯d be covering the front line in their party again. There were bound to be a few more with him, but he just wanted to test out what he could do with his javelins over in the back. He plucked out his runebook from his pack and retired to his tent. The sound of conversation outside eventually died down as both of his party mates walked away, heading into their own tents to prepare. He flicked open the pages on his runebook and immersed himself in the texts. Each one was different¡ªunique, each stroke making the next different from the last. Roland wondered why his family failed to see what something as wonderful as this could do. They regarded magic as weakness, something to reply upon. He shook his head. ¡°A mage¡¯s magic is powerful. With the intensity of the inner mana that warriors cultivate, both would only complement the other. Why can¡¯t they understand this?¡± They never bothered to try, really. Roland had resigned himself to this. The only way to get those people to listen would be to beat them with something until they understood. In this case, he¡¯d be using this runebook of his. Every rune he¡¯d ever created, unique to his own design, was engraved within the pages, within his memory, and within his own soul. It was his magic¡ªhis passion. He smiled lightly, and the pages lit up, each rune releasing an aura that blended with the other. Suddenly, the area around a meter of him exploded into a terrifying pressure, something that was nearly on par with Alexandrius¡¯s own aura. The air creaked and groaned and crackled. Alexandrius had been wrong. If he hadn¡¯t reset his thresholds and spent over a year studying runes, they wouldn¡¯t¡¯ve been at the same level of strength. No, Roland knew he was stronger than that, and these runes only reflected his potential. He laughed, and the pressure only grew stronger. Sweat dripped from his brow, and the ground below his feet cracked. The table that stood in front of him screeched and splintered. Wood chippings fell to the floor, and the aura suddenly halted. Almost as quickly as it came, it had gone. Air rushed back into place, decompressed. Roland¡¯s knees bent, and he caught himself using a chair. The runes on his armor hissed and released gray steam, the patterns noticeably closer to being as complete as the one designed in his notes. Roland¡¯s eyes shone with a bright gray light. Soon. ¡°Why did you unsummon your undead?¡± Lynn asked through the sound of engines and beating wings, tilting her head. ¡°Well, Alexandriusdidtell us he wanted a small group. I have a few of them still summoned to follow us from afar, but I¡¯ll keep most of the in my pouches. I don¡¯t need to expend mana mid-fight to summon them anyways,¡± Alen explained. He stuffed the bones into pockets and pouches in his robe. He¡¯d remodeled it a bit in his tent, and he¡¯d also designed a few more shapes in AutoBone. Now that his robes were strong enough to be considered armor after a month of being refined with his mana, using spells like Bone Spear had an even greater effect for less of a cost when cast on his robes. Alen glanced at Alexandrius¡¯s men from above and saw them turn. His summon turned with them. It was the bat they¡¯d defeated the night before. Luckily, Alen made it to them on time before the monster¡¯s soul completely dissipated, and after he extracted the strands he needed, he let the soul go on its way. The skeletal bat beat its massive, leathery wings. Well, keratin wings. Alen had remade the fleshy bits, but with the same material he¡¯d used to create his robe. It was tough and flexible, so it didn¡¯t give the bat any problems when it came to flying. Lynn was sitting beside him, a large quiver of arrows she¡¯d gotten from the lizardmen strapped over her back. ¡°I didn¡¯t realize how quiet this place could be without a large group. We were getting swarmed a lot before this.¡± Alen shook his head. ¡°It¡¯s because of that powder you guys talked about. Flying about in the open like this would have gotten us attacked a few times already, but it¡¯s somehow kept the insects off.¡± ¡°Ah,¡± Lynn clapped her hands together. ¡°Maybe it¡¯s because we¡¯re riding on the Demon-blood Bat¡¯s skeleton.¡± ¡°Huh,¡± Alen said, glancing at the bat below. Some weaker creatures had avoided him in the canyon, actually. It was upon sighting the raised remains of their predators following him around that they probably had them decide to screw off. ¡°I¡¯d say it¡¯s both, now that I think about it. This thing¡¯s fucking terrifying. Even my mana¡¯s not strong enough to make it as powerful as when it was alive.¡± ¡°Can it even use those screech attacks from yesterday?¡± ¡°Nope. At least, I¡¯m pretty sure it can¡¯t unless I use some sound-based variant of Necrotic Blessing.¡± Lynn let out a sigh of relief. ¡°Good. I don¡¯t want my ears bleeding again,¡± She said, then went back to messing about with her equipment. Alen looked at Alexandrius¡¯s team. They were riding Galeboats, but the ones they were on were a different kinds. Small, compact vehicles that looked like boats, but weren¡¯t too dependent on the strong winds. Under the hull, the persistent hum of an engine drifted out. Alen didn¡¯t know how Alexandrius got a hold of Gnomish technology, but it was safe to assume he had a few contacts among the race of short geniuses Alen had been hearing about since yesterday. Like a squid¡¯s syphon, it let out periodic bursts of air generated by magic. It skidded along the surface of the sand, and Roland below looked like he was having a good time riding one. ¡°I didn¡¯t realize a necromancer could be so¡­ useful,¡± A lizardwoman sitting just behind Lynn said, her strange, thick strands of hair that were unique to her race stopping just by her neck. Small bells and trinkets decorated them in an orderly manner. Alen struggled to remember her name as he looked at her; she¡¯d been quiet the whole trip, and he wasn¡¯t even sure if he took the initiative to even ask her for her name. As if reading his mind, she spoke up. ¡°I am Valah,¡± She said. ¡°I¡¯ve heard about you from Miss Frostwood, necromancer. Your name is Alen, yes?¡± ¡°Uh, yeah.¡± Alen said. He was stillverybothered by Lynn¡¯s last name, and it didnothelp that these people were all addressing her with it. He gave the elf a look. ¡°Why are they referring to you as ¡®Miss Frostwood¡¯ again?¡± She shrugged, and he sighed. Alen looked back at the lizardwoman. ¡°So the people up here are supposed to be the ones that keep away from the fight, right? Um, what do you do, exactly? I¡¯m surprised Alexandrius¡¯s elites aren¡¯t all melee fighters.¡±A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. Valah pointed her clawed finger at him, and a stream of light shot into his chest. Alen flinched, almost releasing a Bone Spear from his robe¡¯s fabric when he suddenly felt his magic flow smoother through his body. It felt smooth and light. He felt refreshed, as if he¡¯d just downed a cold glass of water on a hot summer day. He looked at her in surprise, and she spoke before he did. ¡°I am a mage on the path of Life,¡± She said, setting her staff on top of her crossed legs. ¡°Alexandrius hired me after I saved his life many years ago. I am his oldest follower.¡± She closed her eyes and breathed in, and Lynn continued for her. ¡°She¡¯s not the only one who doesn¡¯t hit things, you know.¡± ¡°Really? Why aren¡¯t there more guys with us, then?¡± Valah opened her eyes and gazed at him. Alen stared at her weirdly.What is this woman doing?He thought, then paused. Her hand stretched out and pointed below, to a handsome elf in leather armor riding beside Alexandrius himself. ¡°That is Tirilius. He accompanied our leader to the Gnomish city of Cradlee before we set off for the Sandsea. He came back, and in his hands were no longer his old Dwarven flintlocks, but the Magitech Pistols of the Gnomes had created for him out of respect for his skills with firearms.¡± She pointed to another, it was a lizardman with a scarred face. He wore a dark robe over his body. ¡°That man is Gravil. He is our sorcerer, but as your friend said, he is one of the people that hits things.¡± ¡°What does she mean?¡± Alen whispered to Lynn. ¡°He hits things. Really, really hard. With a stick,¡± She replied. Valah continued on to introduce the rest of her party, but at that point, Alen had spaced out. She finished, and he blinked once, and then twice. ¡°Oh,¡± He simply said. When he looked at her, her eyes were already closed once again. ¡°Is she usually like this?¡± He asked the elf, motioning to the woman with his eyes. ¡°Well, yes.¡± ¡°Alexandrius¡¯s party is moving way too far from what I expected them to be like.¡± ¡°Ah, you¡¯d need people like this to be successful. Can¡¯t have just attackers in a single group, right?¡± She said, and upon spotting the nearing temple, she nodded. ¡°Let¡¯s get down.¡± ¡°Yeah,¡± The bat¡¯s wings were tucked in and it swooped down, before it hit the ground, they unfurled once again, the sand flying up as if to make way for their landing. Alen waved his hand and the bat disintegrated into nothingness, a single tooth falling back down onto his palm. He immediately infused his mana into it, readying it to be summoned. It didn¡¯t cost as much to do so anymore. The mana muscles were still fairly expensive to scale to his level, but his mana pool was now large enough to be able to summon the bat without overtaxing his supply of magic. Alexandrius turned off the motors of their vehicles and stepped off. He waved his hand, and the ring on his finger let out a bright flash of light. Suddenly, the small boats were gone. Alen narrowed his eyes at the sight, giving Valah an inquisitive look. ¡°Was that..?¡± ¡°It is a Ring of Holding,¡± Alexandrius said. ¡°I had it enchanted years ago. It is a difficult task to accomplish, but I trust that Roland Wolfram will be capable of it soon enough.¡± The rest of the party activated their rings, and the motors disappeared. Alexandrius retrieved the one Roland was riding. The orange-haired warrior looked at the rings almost longingly, his hand resting on the bag that held his runebook. He sighed, before finally, he stepped forward and gave the crimson-scaled lizardman a look. ¡°I would be capable of it sooner if you let me borrow one of yours for a month or two.¡± Alexandrius smiled, his dozens of sharp toothpick-like teeth glinting in the light. ¡°Not a chance.¡± One of the lizardmen, the wizard that apparently hit things with a stick, walked up to Alexandrius. ¡°Oy Al, mind if I give this new guy a try?¡± ¡®Al¡¯ looked at the sky and shrugged. ¡°We arrived sooner than expected, and it is safer to move deeper into the canyon during the night. Valah, Drex, Tirilius, come. We are setting up camp.¡± Tirilius, the elf, shook his head. ¡°Take Cadavir instead. I want to see what the necromancer can do. Frostwood and Wolfram have said some pretty interesting things about him, after all,¡± He laughed, then cocked an eyebrow at Alexandrius. ¡°Didn¡¯t he intimidate you once, too?¡± ¡°I knocked him out for trying.¡± ¡°Hah!¡± Gravil, the muscle-mage, laughed, then looked straight at Alen. ¡°Come, let¡¯s fight. Frostwood¡¯s told us some pretty interesting things about the way you fight. As a fellow mage, I¡¯m quite interested.¡± Lynn laughed nervously and backed off. Alen glared at her. He looked at the lizardman in front of him, his lean body and emerald scales simmering in the sun¡¯s light. He held an iron staff, and his very presence seemed to put the surrounding area into a submissive state. He¡¯d spent time in the Crawling Canyon, and during this period, Alen had developed a sense of sorts for danger. It was talking right now. Screaming. It was telling him that this guy was no fucking joke. ¡°No thanks,¡± He said. ¡°I told you he¡¯d say no,¡± Roland crossed his arms at the lizardman. He then sighed and looked at Alen, distancing himself from the two. ¡°I¡¯d get ready to fight if I were you.¡± ¡°What?¡± Alen took a step back, glancing around to notice that everyone else had backed off too. Gravil shook his head, and Alen only had him in the corner of his vision for a second before he disappeared. His pupils rapidly constricted. Mana surged into his feet. A bone spear exploded out from below his soles and propelled him to the sky. Something followed him up. It was Gravil. ¡°You see,¡± He said. ¡°I¡¯m quite insistent.¡± A tooth flew towards the lizardman before he even finished. It exploded into a black-green half-circle that blocked out all sight. Alen used Bone Spear again, using the half circle as a platform to propel himself backwards. It shot towards the lizardman¡ªit shattered into dozens of pieces. Dull, gray fog rapidly billowed out of Alen¡¯s body. Numbing Mist. Gravil shot towards him, the wind at his feet, and the earth covering his body like living armor. The Numbing Mist seeped into his pores, and from inside his armor, the lizardman frowned. ¡°Curse magic?¡± A jet of air blasted out from his feet and catapulted him towards Alen again. The mist was thicker there, and he felt the mist weaken his body as his vision was obstructed. He swung his staff, and Alen barely avoided, the sheer force of the attack causing a fierce wind to blow against his face. Gravil jabbed, and Alen twisted. It hit his shoulder. He felt something in it crack. Numb Senses. He slammed into the canyon wall four meters away. Teeth rained out of Alen¡¯s pockets, and they immediately turned into undead. A spider shot a web at Gravil. A beetle followed behind it. The tip of the lizardman¡¯s metal staff hummed with air, the wind providing a razor-sharp edge. He sliced the web in half, but the beetle rammed into him. Stone chipped off his armor. Gravil smashed the beetle to the ground. More followed up. A mantis slashed at him. He avoided. A mosquito stabbed at him with its proboscis, and he shattered it. The spider from before sprung from the mist. It had jumped from the wall. It shot a web at him once again. He channeled the air into a rotating sphere. The web spun around it, and he whipped his hand to the side, sending the web crashing into the mantis. He felt a massive amount of mana gather above him. His head whipped upwards just in time to take a Blightwater Surge to the face. Boom! A shockwave of air blasted out from his body, sending the Blightwater out in all directions. It splattered along the canyon walls and caused hissing sounds to ring out. He panted, feeling the earthen armor protecting his body deteriorate. Suddenly, the mist above him gave way to reveal a massive, skeletal hand. It was horribly disfigured, wrong angles and bone formations¡ªclawed fingertips covered in hissing black ice. The hand wrapped around him and clenched, grasping tight! Alen watched all this happen, panting as sweat rolled down his face. As he let go of his control. The chitin that connected the giant hand to his robe¡¯s sleeve disintegrated, and the massive enclosed fist fell to the ground with a boom. He looked down in horror at the gigantic hand, standing atop a flying beetle. It had used a large amount of his mana, with Necrotic Blessing¡¯s Deathchill variant having been ramped up to more than twice its normal intensity. What if he¡¯d killed Gravil? What would Alexandrius do? His team mates. Would they side with him? Just as Alen was preparing to bring out the bat¡¯s tooth in order to make an escape, he noticed the sand below him churn. It was spinning¡ªtwisting and writhing like a whirlpool. Grainy tendrils of earth began to rise up, seeping into the gaps between the skeletal hand¡¯s fingers. Mana was building. Magic was radiating out in a light within a fist¡ªmagic so intense it took visible form. The alarms in his head were screeching. Gravil was not dead, but the relief was easily flushed out by the fear. The necromancer balled his fists so hard that his knuckles turned white. That was supposed to be a sparring match, but all of the lizardman¡¯s attacks had been strong enough to kill him had they hit full-on. He grit his teeth. He¡¯d been holding back his full force, but now, it seemed like he¡¯d need it. In his mind, this wasn¡¯t a sparring match anymore. He remembered Thagathos¡¯s trial and felt something inside of him turn cold. He felt it in his hands once again. Dripping¡ªheavy, viscous, red. His mind was uncharacteristically silent. He was getting ready to kill someone. His robes fluttered, and teeth rained on the sand below. His undead formed one by one, their forms deadly and augmented with AutoBone. Lizards, snakes, insects, spiders, hyenas, and finally, the massive Demon-blood Bat. He jumped off the beetle and mounted it. His hand went into his robe, and he brought out a single, finger-sized crystal. The green gem flickered with a deathly light, looking like rumbling lightning within the Numbing Mist that seemed to cover the sky. There, he stood atop the Demon-blood Bat, and all around him; earth and sky, nearly a hundred undead gazed cruelly at the hand down below. One of the fingers shuddered, then flew right off with a thunderous boom. It embedded itself into the canyon wall. Gravil walked out, the sand pooling into the earthen armor he wore. It was compressed and compressed, and his power seemed to rise by the second. Some flooded into his staff, and his injuries, a few spots on his skin where the scales had melted off, were covered by the earth, slowly healing at a visible rate. He looked up at Alen, and the piece of armor that covered his face opened up. He was smiling wildly. ¡°Okay, I¡ª¡° Boom!The sand below him ruptured, and a Droughtworm swallowed him whole. Alen pointed his finger, his eyes clouded in anger and murderous intent. His undead shuddered, its insides exploding into a sea of keratin spears. Skeletal Rupture. The spears of keratin pierced it from the inside, the barbs going through its carapace. Gravil¡¯s staff blew a hole through its stomach. He stepped out and was about to speak again when the canines surged in. They tore into his armor, their teeth shrieking against his defense. They failed to do any damage. His surroundings darkened. Webs blotted out the sky. He waved his earthen staff, and a wind swept the webs to the side.Bang!A plume of Rotfire devoured him. He stepped out unharmed, his armor scorched black by the decay. Alen watched him from above, his undead surging in. He watched Gravil shatter them one by one. He¡¯d lost a dozen, but Alen had even more in his robes. Centipedes spit acid, and an invisible shield of air shielded him from it. A wolf ran past him and suddenly exploded, a bone spear surging towards his back. It dug into his armor. He was trying to say something. Alen interrupted him with another Rotfire Blast. Gravil sighed, then smashed his staff into the ground. Alen¡¯s undead were blown away by the force. He jumped straight towards him, and Alen used undead to block his way. Earth left Gravil¡¯s armor and formed boulders. He kicked them, and they destroyed Alen¡¯s undead in their wake. The necromancer felt panic slowly rising up. Alen didn¡¯t want to die. He had to kill this person to avoid that. The lizardman was getting closer, and in the distance, he heard Roland shouting. He saw Lynn, Tirilius, and Valah rushing towards them. They wouldn¡¯t make it. Not even a second later, even after he¡¯d ordered the bat to retreat, Gravil fell from the sky and kicked it to the ground. Alen felt his insides vibrate from the fall. He tasted blood. Gravil was falling towards him. He grit his teeth. He was so fucking tired of this. He grasped the emerald crystal in his right hand, and through it, he channeled a spell. Gravil had reached him. The staff swept out, and Alen¡¯s magic surged. It hit his head¡ªand then, the world turned black. Cra-a-a-ack! Black ice fell to the ground. It clacked, and rolled to the side, because the ground itself was covered in obsidian frost as well. There was no sand to catch it, because the grains had been frozen solid. Mist was drifting about in all directions, emanating the aura of Deathchill. Within the Crawling Canyon, an area of ten meters had been turned into a wasteland of sinister black ice. At the center of this area were two figures. Alen laid unconscious, a wound on his head and a glittering green gem in his hand. The other was a statue. It was humanoid in shape, and it stood in front of the necromancer. A rod was in its hands, but its entire body seemed to be encased in a layer of ice. It trembled. The ice cracked. Pieces fell from its fingers. Soon, its hand was moving. Next came its arm. The arm slowly reached towards the statue¡¯s torso and tore off more of the ice, its scaly digits covered in varying degrees of early stage of necrosis. Ice was ripped off piece by piece, revealing a figure in a miserable state. Though his armor was mostly intact, pieces had been completely destroyed, revealing areas suffering from the effects of Necrotic magic. His hair was disheveled, and he breathed heavily as he finished pulling out the ice. Gravil stood in front of Alen, and a bit of fear was present in his eyes. Crunching noises rang out from behind him, and Tirilius hung an arm around his shoulders. The elf let out a whistle. ¡°Had your fill, eh?¡± ¡°Shut up,¡± Gravil glared, looking at Roland, Lynn, and Valah who were checking on the necromancer¡¯s condition. All around them, his undead stood still, unaffected by the Deathchill. They watched him, awaiting orders from the unconscious master. Valah healed the young man¡¯s injuries with a spell, and walked over to them. ¡°Need some help?¡± She asked, noting the various wounds the lizardman wore. ¡°Yeah,¡± He nodded, ignoring the glares the white-haired elf sent him. ¡°The potion¡¯s not working as well because of his magic. It¡¯s in my body, slowing my recovery. It was the same for that mist a while ago, the damned thing was making my body stiff. I¡¯ve never fought a necromancer before, but now I can understand why the powerful ones are feared by entire kingdoms.¡± Tirilius shook his head. ¡°I¡¯ve fought them before, but this one is different. All the necromancers I¡¯ve ever encountered have needed corpses to function¡ªa lot of them, at that. But this one? I¡¯ve never seen a necromancer summon an entire army from nothing. Those spells of his, the last one especially. Shaved off a whole layer of skin, eh Gravil?¡± ¡°I didn¡¯t even use Earth Vajra,¡± The lizardman crossed his arms indignantly. ¡°It wouldn¡¯t have affected me at all if I did.¡± The elf laughed. ¡°The fact that you used Stone Avatar against a kid on the what, thirteenth threshold is enough. You may be the weakest out of all of us, but it¡¯s a bit embarrassing for you to be pushed this far by a necromancer of his level. You reached the twenty-first threshold a week ago, right? I can¡¯t wait to tell Faahira about this.¡± Gravil glowered. ¡°Who did you say was the weakest in Al¡¯s group? Come, Tirilius. Let¡¯s have a spar.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t like kicking men when they¡¯re down,¡± Tirilius chuckled, then left. Valah healed Gravil, then promptly left, murmuring about something. The lizardman then stood there alone, gazing at the malevolent black ice all around him, and the eighty or so undead that seemed to stare at him. He shuddered and remembered why he wasn¡¯t fond of necromancers, before turning around. ¡°Creepy bastards,¡± He spit on the ground, and his spittle sizzled on the ice. He frowned. He was definitely beating that necromancer more thoroughly next time. ¡­Next time. Book 2, Chapter 15: Rock Bottom Book 2, Chapter 15: Rock Bottom
[Alen] Alen woke up with a frown. It wasn¡¯t the first time he¡¯d woken up wearing one. If anything, it was quite the common occurrence. Whowouldn¡¯twake up with a frown after dreaming about Sam wearing a thong? The recurring dream was an inconvenience that plagued him in his daily life, yes. This time however, he wasn¡¯t frowning because of a crappy nightmare; no. He was frowning at the two pairs of blue orbs staring down at him. ¡°Are you alright?¡± Roland asked. ¡°I dislocated a shoulder, spent nearly all my mana, and unleashed all my summons,¡± He slowly said, standing up and rolling his shoulder around. It was healed. ¡°I¡¯d say I¡¯m in top fucking condition, Roland.¡± Lynn pursed her lips, sticking to her silence. Her orange-haired companion stepped forward and handed the necromancer a glass of water. The latter gulped it down and set it to the side, before looking straight at them. He said nothing, but his eyes revealed a strong disappointment. ¡°¡¯I¡¯d get ready to fight if I were you¡¯,¡± He looked at Roland. ¡°Really? The moment I said ¡®no¡¯, I¡¯m fairly sure it meant ¡®fuck off you green-scaled piece of shit¡¯. I think that¡¯s a clear enough signal for my friends to step the fuck in as soon as he attacks.¡± ¡°It would have done nothing,¡± Roland shook his head. ¡°He still would¡¯ve disregarded us. Lynn tried to step in for me when I was challenged, but Gravil completely ignored her.¡± ¡°The gesture would have been appreciated,¡± Alen said, his expression dark. He stared at both of them. He wanted them to see his anger¡ªhis disappointment. An immature effort, but Alen was never the type of person to take the higher ground when he was pissed. If it had been anyone else, he¡¯d have gone about his usual business, smiling like the usual dumbass he was, but these two? He trusted them. That wasn¡¯t a sparring match; it was assault and battery, and these two just decided to stay as bystanders. The white-haired elf in front of him had an expression he couldn¡¯t read, but he saw the regret in her posture. The way she seemed to curl up in the way she sat. Roland looked at him apologetically, lowering his head for the first time since Alen had met him. ¡°We¡¯re sorry.¡± ¡°An apology is useless by this point,¡± Alen said, the fury in his chest replaced by a shallow sadness, as if he was wading through a swamp. He walked past them. He reached the door and opened it, the low grating sound ringing out. Alen glanced back at the two. ¡°If it was either of you in the position I was in,¡± He said. ¡°I would¡¯ve been the first to attack.¡± Alen stepped out and closed the door behind him. There was something in his chest, an anger he refused to keep restrained. He had every right to be angry. Gravil was both an asshole and a piece of shit. Every time he thought of the lizardman¡¯s face, he remembered the reason he wore a smile on his face all the time, and memories from the past came flashing past his thoughts. He was crying back then. A highschool freshman, reduced to tears by an insult he didn¡¯t think would hurt so much. Fucking pathetic. Remembering it made him grit his teeth from the sheer indignation he felt. Back then, people had crowded around him, trying to cheer him up. He¡¯d never felt so weak. He hated that feeling the most. Being pitied¡ªlooking like the tiny little person he really was. So, he smiled. He¡¯d looked up at the pitying expressions sent his way and laughed, and as if he was telling a bad joke, he told the bastards who hurt him that he¡¯d only forgive them if they sent him nudes. They didn¡¯t, of course. They laughed nervously and backed off, and the people around him let loose sighs of relief. From then on, Alen never felt weak again. He would smile, he would grin, and he would laugh through the hard times. It made him feel strong, and people viewed him as the person who was impossible to piss off, and would laugh at your face when you tried to fuck with him. Eventually, he gained thicker skin. Insults passed right through him. He felt stronger; less vulnerable. The smile became natural. He genuinely found everything funny. He became closer with his friends. His confidence rose. He¡¯d pretended so much that he¡¯d stopped pretending. He was strong, But that was back on Earth. Here, he couldn¡¯t settle everything with just words. He couldn¡¯t smile and rely on his vulgar wit to get past everything that posed a threat. Alen thought he was strong. He genuinely did. Even after being knocked out by Alexandrius, he felt a sense of victory. He¡¯d insulted the big baddie and come out alive. He was a mana programmer¡ªNecromancer. He commanded whole armies of the dead. He was proud. He was strong. He finally decided to stop deluding himself. He might¡¯ve been a strong person back home, but here, he was weak. People could kill him, and it would be as trivial as taking a walk. A thought passed through his head, and Alen felt the smile creep into his face once again. He¡¯d forgive those two eventually, he knew he would. So, he¡¯d forgive them now and make things easier for himself. This was a tantrum¡ªa well-deserved one¡ªbut a tantrum nonetheless. He¡¯d get over it. As for Gravil¡­ Numbing Mist affected him, right? It went right through his armor. Alen would cook up something even better than that. Right now, he was at rock bottom. That was great. It felt good. After all, when a person like him was at his lowest, The only way left was up. The buzzing of his undead beetle¡¯s wings filled his ears, and Alen sent glares onto the back of the gray-robed lizardman down below. It was dark, but through the moonlight and flashes of magic, he was able to spot Gravil who was currently standing in front of Tirilius and another war pick-wielding lizardman, fighting back insects as they advanced deeper into the canyon. ¡°Fucking dick,¡± Alen muttered, filling the bone shards of his summoned undead with mana. He¡¯d summoned nearly all of them in that last sparring match, and now, he had to fill every last one with mana again. Alexandrius had told him to prioritize it over fighting, but he was still able to send in a spell or two to take a couple kills from the green-scaled cunt out of spite. He did just that, sending a Bone Spear from his robe to kill yet another monster before the lizardman could get to it. Gravil glowered, then glanced at Alexandrius and remembered the verbal lashing he got from his blood-scaled leader. He grit his teeth. These creatures weren¡¯t able to give him a large amount of mana upon death anyways. It was more of an annoyance than something that could actually hinder him. It was made to spite him, and for that, Gravil felt that it really was somewhat his fault as a blast of black-green flames devoured yet another one of his targets. ¡°Aren¡¯t you just slowing down the process of getting your undead summon-ready again?¡± Lynn asked a bit reluctantly, her voice ringing out through the beating of the insect¡¯s wings. She sat on a separate beetle, one hovering just a few meters away from his. ¡°Shut up,¡± Alen said, eyeing the lizardman carefully. He¡¯d made up with the two. Told them he was over it. They reluctantly agreed. His mana slowly filled up the shard of chitin in his hand, but he made sure to leave a bit in excess for another spell. ¡°I¡¯m about to hit the fourteenth threshold, and if getting to it involves pissing that fucker off, count me in.¡± ¡°Well, hedidfight Roland when we first arrived. He was pretty miserable when Roland¡¯s shockwaves went right past his stone armor.¡± Alen frowned, a seed of anger in the pit of his stomach. ¡°Did he force you to fight him like that as well?¡± ¡°Nope,¡± She said, a sheepish look on her face. ¡°I actually invited Tirilius over there to spar, and that¡¯s where Gravil got the idea from.¡± He raised an eyebrow. ¡°How didthatgo?¡± ¡°It was pretty depressing,¡± She admitted. ¡°He just shot at every arrow I loosed and ended up destroying them all before they reached him. I ended up surprising him with my Arrow Hail technique, but he got serious after that and just knocked me out with some in-your-face hand-to-hand combat. He¡¯s surprisingly good at it for someone who uses pistols to attack from afar. He¡¯s a lot stronger than Gravil.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t like sparring anyways,¡± Alen quietly said. His magic wasn¡¯t for sparring¡ªit was for killing. It spread death, and it did so with brutal efficiency. In his head, Alen saw the image of himself standing over the decayed remains of a sea of corpses, people he considered friends among them. He shuddered. No sparring. Lynn tilted her head. He didn¡¯t seem any different when she saw him again, but now, she was certain. Something about the necromancer was dissonant with how he was in the past. It had shown its face in his fight with Gravil, when he¡¯d woken up, and she had seen it. ¡°Are you¡­¡± She trailed off. She knew asking him if he was okay would be of no help. She always hated it when people asked that question; it would yield no answer, and would only put the person in question in a defensive stance. Knowing the way he was, Alen was probably still mad at them. She internally sighed. She should have stepped in, but she couldn¡¯t bring herself to do it. That staff of Gravil¡¯s hit quite hard. Her side still felt sore, even after she¡¯d been healed. She felt bad lying to Alen about it, but she was worried he¡¯d pick another fight with the terrifying lizardman after hearing about the ¡®sparring match¡¯ he held with her and Roland. Lynn quietly shook her head, before she had herself grin at him. ¡°I plan to learn some unarmed fighting,¡± She slowly said. ¡°No magic. I put some points into Strength, so I might as well make use of it.¡± Alen blinked. ¡°Actually, what stats do you put priorities in?¡± ¡°I rotate around Strength, Wisdom, and Intelligence for first and sometimes second degree priorities. I put the third and at other times, the second priority, into either Dexterity or Wisdom.¡± ¡°Aren¡¯t you a magic archer? Why invest priorities in Strength and Dexterity?¡± ¡°I¡¯d say I¡¯m more of a hybrid. The draw weight of the Waterwood Bow is no joke, and it¡¯s only going to get worse when I get a replacement. As for Dexterity? Well, I think that¡¯s a given. It lets me hit things easier.¡± ¡°How about the other three?¡± ¡°Intelligence makes my elemental arrows stronger, but goes really well with the Dexterity investment too in terms of letting me hit things,¡± She tilted her head, thinking up how to explain the rest. ¡°Control is of course there so I can use my magic. I¡¯ll be able to mix up different elements soon, so I¡¯m all hyped up for it. Um, Wisdom is for mana, really. I have above average affinities for most basic elements, but the arrows still take a good amount off my reserves.¡± ¡°I honestly didn¡¯t think you¡¯d put that much thought into anything. I¡¯m surprised.¡± ¡°Screw off,¡± She laughed. ¡°How about you? Which ones do you put your priorities in?¡± ¡°Uh, Intelligence, Wisdom, and Control. I rotate the priorities.¡± ¡°And?¡± ¡°That¡¯s it.¡± ¡°Oh,¡± She blinked. ¡°No wonder I can push you around.¡± Alen raised his head and looked at her as if he was a superior being. ¡°I have hundreds ofminions, Lynn. Tell me, do you have minions to doyourbidding?¡± ¡°Don¡¯tyoucount as a minion? Speaking of which, make me some cool water. I¡¯m parched.¡± ¡°Fight me.¡± ¡°No thanks.¡± ¡°You see, I¡¯m quite insiste¡ª¡° ¡°Stop,¡± She shook her head. ¡°Isn¡¯t it too early to make fun of how you got your ass kicked?¡± ¡°I thought I looked pretty cool, to be honest.¡± ¡°Hm, I guess you did,¡± She gave him a look. ¡°What threshold are you in, anyway? The amount of summons you have seems to have jumped up.¡±If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. ¡°Thirteenth. Almost fourteenth.¡± She blinked. ¡°Really? Roland and I are barely at the eleventh, and we thoughtwewere fast.¡± ¡°I mean, I did spend an entire fucking month doing next to nothing besides fighting bugs in the Crawling Canyon.¡± ¡°Ah,¡± She said. ¡°That¡¯s fair.¡± Alen suddenly turned, his palm pointed down below. Blightwater surged out, and the miserable cries of a group of Drill Ants rang out. Dravil vehemently cursed from below, his armor hissing from the stray splashes of the magic. They heard Alexandrius bark at him to go back to the front line. The emerald-eyes young man grinned at the scene as a screen blinked into vision in front of him.
System Message!
Congratulations! You have passed your thirteenth mana threshold. You are now at your fourteenth. This threshold will require an exponentially higher amount of mana to pass.
¡°I dinged,¡± He said. ¡°I should be able to finish the rest of these shards in a few more hours.¡± ¡°Great. Thenyou¡¯llbe fighting too.¡± ¡°On second thought, I think I¡¯ll slack.¡± ¡°Alexandrius won¡¯t be happy.¡± ¡°On my second, second thought, I think I¡¯llstealthilyslack off.¡± The elf laughed. ¡°Do whatever you want,¡± She said, before Roland¡¯s voice rang out in their heads. ¡°Lynn, we¡¯re swapping soon,¡± He said. They saw the warrior sending a few glances to them. ¡°Alright,¡± Lynn stretched her arms and stood up, unperturbed by the height and strong winds. ¡°Send me over.¡± Alen shrugged and gave the beetle an order. It swooped down from just below the canyon¡¯s top layer, and stopped just beside Roland. He saw the two exchange a few words, before Lynn jumped down and drew her bow, scanning the horizon by the backline for any threats. Roland clambered up the beetle, and soon, he was flying by Alen¡¯s side. ¡°So,¡± The necromancer said. ¡°Is there a rune for the word ¡®nipple¡¯?¡± Roland sighed. ¡°We¡¯ve almost arrived,¡± Alexandrius looked back at them, but his expression was somber. The people behind him shared his frown, and Alen couldn¡¯t help but frown too. He made sure to frown in Gravil¡¯s direction, though. Valah who had stayed behind with them stepped past Roland and pointed at the crimson-scaled lizardman. ¡°That wound,¡± She said, her fingertips glowing. The magic radiating from her hands slowly knit the wound on Alexandrius¡¯s arm back up. ¡°A strong foe?¡± He responded with a nod. ¡°I ordered a retreat as soon as it spotted us. It would have been disadvantageous to face it without the rest of the party.¡± ¡°Damned Manticore,¡± Gravil spat. ¡°Manticore?¡± Roland frowned. ¡°I thought those were extinct.¡± A lizardman, one Alen wasn¡¯t acquainted with, stabbed his halberd into the sand. He leaned against it wincing at the scratches to his expensive-looking armor. He looked at Roland in derision. ¡°Tellthatto the one we just saw. Hasn¡¯t anyone from your family ever taught you to think before speaking? Then again, considering that you¡¯re a Wolfram, I¡¯m not surprised.¡± The warrior ignored him, but Alen caught the warrior¡¯s fist. It had clenched tightly for a moment, before returning to normal. Alen raised his chin at the lizardman. ¡°Close that moist, sloppy vagina that you call a mouth, yeah?¡± ¡°Stepping in to defend your companion?¡± The lizardman glowered, looking at them derisively. ¡°He could do it himself if he hadn¡¯t chosen the fool¡¯s path to reset his progress. Runic magic? It¡¯s a pity he was cast out of that clan full of idiots; he was a perfect match.¡± Roland suddenly stepped forward, and as he did, his armor flashed with an incomplete pattern of runic sigils. Within a flash, he was face-to-face with the lizardman who reached for his weapon. Alen¡¯s eyes constricted, as just as he and Lynn were about to get ready for combat, a crushing pressure slammed down onto all of their shoulders. Alen felt as if his heart was being squeezed.Alexandrius!?His eyes flashed to the crimson-scaled lizardman, but was shocked to see the expression of surprise on his face. ¡°I dare you,¡±Roland stepped forward, and a sudden increase to the pressure caused the lizardman to stagger back. The warrior¡¯s eyes shone with an alarmingly gray light.¡°Speak another word.¡± Alen stared in shock, watching as the pressure from his friend disappeared as quickly as it came just a moment later. The lizardman hurriedly reached for his halberd. ¡°Stop,¡± Alexandrius said, and the scaly hand stopped just short of the halberd¡¯s haft. ¡°Go back to the camp, Nexus. I will have a word with you later.¡± Nexus grit his teeth. ¡°Yes, uncle,¡± He said, before grabbing the halberd and storming back to the camp behind them. Alen would have laughed if the shock he was feeling wasn¡¯t so intense. Roland gazed straight into the eyes of all of Alexandrius¡¯s men one more time before turning around and walking away. Lynn glanced at Alen, and they nodded, running after him. They ran past a corner and Lynn who was in front of him suddenly jolted to a halt. Alen bumped into her back and they stumbled. The elf used her footwork to stay upright, before glaring at Alen who¡¯d formed a keratin hook to stop his fall. In front of him was Roland, who incredibly pale. The warrior was on a single knee. He looked up at the two of them, and for the first time since they¡¯d met, Alen saw him beam with a massive grin. ¡°Impressive, right?¡± He said, sweat dripping down his brow. Lynn sighed and touched his shoulder. Her palm glowed with a soft, blue light, and Roland visibly relaxed. ¡°Thanks,¡± He said. Alen stared at him. ¡°What thefuckwasthat?¡± ¡°A new technique I developed,¡± He smiled. He seemed to be in quite the good mood, despite the sweat drenching his pale face. ¡°Took a while to get it to where it is, but when I finish, I¡¯ll be even stronger.¡± The warrior paused, before he looked up at Alen again. ¡°Listen¡­ I¡¯m sorry,¡± He said, lowering his head. Sweat dripped down onto the sand below. The necromancer nodded. ¡°The next time some crazy fuckwad tries to pick a fight with one of us, the other two step in,¡± He looked into Roland¡¯s eyes, and saw something new in them. Respect. Alen smiled, and took a glance at Lynn as well. ¡°Deal?¡± ¡°Deal,¡± He nodded, taking the hand Alen had offered to stand up. He shook it. ¡°Deal,¡± She smiled. ¡°Perfect. Let¡¯s get back, then. You sure you¡¯re alright, Roland?¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± Roland grunted and straightened the way he stood. They walked back to the camp, and Alen felt impressed that the man could make it look as if that technique he pulled didn¡¯t affect him at all. People reallydidtake posturing seriously here, Alen nodded to himself. Shame the way he spoke wasn¡¯t suited to intimidating people. Roland was a natural, being the whole silent and serious type. He was quite jealous, really, but then again, it wouldn¡¯t suit him very much. Alen and the rest sauntered back into camp, and the necromancer was able to spot the grin Tirilius sent towards their group. The elf walked to them. ¡°First, you make a fool of Gravil, then, you have that brat Nexus running off with his tail between his legs?¡± His smile got wider, then he nodded approvingly towards them. ¡°Oh I like your group.¡± He gave Alen a look, extending his hand towards the emerald-eyed young man. ¡°I¡¯m Tirilius. I don¡¯t think we¡¯ve been introduced?¡± ¡°Looking at what¡¯s gone down from meeting the rest of your party, I¡¯m not sure I want to.¡± The elf laughed, louder than Alen thought he should¡¯ve. ¡°I¡¯m not like those two buffoons. Gravil¡¯s the way he is, and Al¡¯s nephew Nexus has his head way up his arse. Don¡¯t tell him though, I¡¯d hate for him to pick a fight with me again.¡± ¡°You¡¯re telling me you can¡¯t beat him?¡± ¡°No,¡± The elf smiled, and Alen felt as if the elf gave off the same feeling as Alexandrius himself. No, it was stronger. More compressed. Even denser. ¡°He¡¯s just so weak that it gets boring. Little Al¡¯s not the strongest in this group, you know.¡± Alen frowned. ¡°Then who is?¡± ¡°I am, of course,¡± The elf shrugged. ¡°Oldest, too. I was a friend of his uncle¡¯s you see. Met the man decades ago, and his thirst for the worlds unknown struck me quite hard. I spent years wandering the continent with him, but it looks like that old lizard found what he was looking for as soon as I left to settle things back home.¡± ¡°What are you talking about?¡± Alen asked. The two beside him raised their eyebrows, leaning in to listen to the elf. ¡°To be honest,¡± Tirilius grinned. ¡°I haven¡¯t a bull¡¯s notion. All I know is that that old lizard¡¯s either found something exciting, or he¡¯s gone and died. Seeing as how he left behind a letter, I¡¯d put my money on the former.¡± ¡°Alexandrius seems to think his uncle just left behind the Drakeslayer, though,¡± Roland crossed his arms. ¡°Why are you telling us this, and not him?¡± ¡°I¡¯ve already told the kid everything I know, but the poor man¡¯s grasping at straws. His father hasn¡¯t much to live, after all.¡± ¡°His father?¡± The elf put a hand over his mouth. ¡°Ah. I¡¯ve said too much. If you want to know, you¡¯d be better off asking Alexandrius himself. With all the weight in his shoulders, I¡¯m surprised he hasn¡¯t bent his knees. Quite admirable, I must say, and part of the reason I¡¯ve lent my assistance to his little crew after meeting them outside of Cradlee¡ªnice little city, by the way.¡± ¡°I want to know more about this city,¡± Lynn perked up, and Alen saw her eyes shine. The elf nodded, a light smile on his face. ¡°Ah, Eilynn Frostwood. What does the Frostwood clan¡¯s problem child want to know?¡± Lynn¡¯s face flushed. ¡°Let¡¯s not talk about that again, or why you know about it at all, alright?¡± She ran her palm across her face and sighed, regaining her composure. ¡°First of all, how does someone get a recommendation for entry into one of the Gnomish cities?¡± ¡°As you wish,¡± He shrugged, then motioned for Lynn to follow him, launching into an explanation as he did. Alen watched the two go and pursed his lips. Roland stood beside him, deep in thought. The necromancer sighed and sat down on the sand, concentrating on manipulating his mana to keep himself cool. Roland sat down beside him, and Alen quickly designed a cup using AutoBone, filled it with cold water, and drank from it. He repeated the process, but gave the next cup to the enchanter beside him. The two didn¡¯t exchange much talk, receding into their own thoughts. Alen was in the middle of perfecting a line of code for Blightwater Surge when they saw Alexandrius stand up from his place of rest. The moon hung low in the sky, signaling the nearing close of the night. Upon seeing the rest of the group, all twelve of them, stand up, Roland and Alen did the same. Lynn left the crowd and walked beside them, a large grin on her face. ¡°You guys ready to fight a Manticore?¡± ¡°I¡¯m ready torunfrom the Manticore, yeah.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t even think about it, necromancer,¡± Alexandrius said from afar, and Alen pursed his lips. ¡°Well, fuck.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll protect you,¡± Lynn joked. ¡°Perfect. Make sure you stand in front of me the entire time. I¡¯ll distract the Manticore with my horrified screeching to give you an opening to attack.¡± ¡°My hero.¡± ¡°I try my best,¡± He grinned his usual grin, the quick dose of banter keeping the frantic beating of his heart at bay. A fight was coming. Combat. Kill or be killed. Alen pulled out the green gem from his robe. It was still shining, and the mana within it didn¡¯t seem to have depleted since he last used it against Gravil. This was his strongest tool, and it would be the card he¡¯d pull out when everything went wrong. Alexandrius ahead of them pulled his hand up, and they stopped. The party slowly moved forwards from there. Strands of moonlight barely illuminated the canyon, the dim lighting only made clear by their inhuman stats. They moved forward, and Valah began to chant something under her breath. Alen felt a warmth cover his body. He felt lighter. Stronger. As for his magic¡­ it felt closer; as if it would come like an obedient pet when called. He saw lights cover everyone else¡¯s bodies in their advance. Eventually, the canyon¡¯s path widened up until they stood at the entrance of what seemed to be a basin. In the back, looking as if it was carved into the canyon itself, a lone, barely intact temple stood. It was planted firmly into the ground, mocking those who think to topple it. Pillars full of intricate carvings, lining the edges of the large sandstone steps that led into the building. At the base of these steps lay a single creature. Its head lazily rested on its scaly, lion-like paws. Behind it, a scorpion¡¯s tail swayed lightly, the tip of the appendage seemingly regarding each and every one of them. Its eyes were open. It gazed calmly at them, unafraid of the threat they posed. Alexandrius took a step forward. Tirilius walked off to the side, watching the events unfold. ¡°What¡¯s he doing?¡± Alen whispered, his voice a frantic hiss upon seeing the self-proclaimed ¡®strongest¡¯ walking away. ¡°He¡¯s helped us plenty already,¡± Gravil said, and another lizardman beside him, one holding a staff, nodded. ¡°Plus, it¡¯s not like you get to experience the wrath of an extinct species every day, aye?¡± Alen ignored him and summoned his bat. The giant, skeletal creature beat its wings, taking the necromancer seventy feet into the air. Lynn¡¯s figure disappeared. She was scaling the walls, frost at her feet. Roland positioned himself at the back, his javelins at the ready. There was no use trying to take hits this time. That thing would tear his equipment to shreds. Teeth rained down, and Valah mounted a skeletal beetle formed from Alen¡¯s magic. It flew high, giving her a tactical point of view from above, away from danger. The rest of the lizardmen drew their weapons, staves lit up, bows were drawn, and weapons glinted in the moon¡¯s light. Alexandrius pointed his greatsword at the monster in a two-handed middle stance. Seeing this, the Manticore seemed to grin. To Alen, it looked unbelievably cruel. He shivered and kept his hands away from his robes. No use summoning all his undead. They would only get in the way in a fight like this. Slowly, the monster stood up and gazed at them, its golden, snake-like eyes regarding each and every one of them. The barbs near the tip of its tail retracted in and out like a well-oiled machine. Alexandrius burst into motion. Time slowly grinded to a halt. Alen felt something. Pain. He looked down, and then he saw a barb the size of an arm protruding from his belly. A hole had been torn through his summon. It began to topple down. He looked down at the Manticore and saw its cruel, cruel smile. The edges of his vision darkened. The necromancer heard someone scream his name, but the wind was roaring¡ªfighting against the ringing in his ears. He was falling. Alen blinked, And then he hit the ground. Book 2, Chapter 16: The Sky Beneath the Sea Book 2, Chapter 16: The Sky Beneath the Sea
[Alen] Alen felt cold. A frost creeping up from his feet like cold, grasping hands. It slinked and lurked and creeped and crawled. The feeling of liquid ice crept up his stomach, where a powerful heat stung past the numbness permeating his body. Pain. His eyes were closed¡ªthey trembled. The frost slinked higher, up his chest, freezing his lungs and robbing him of breath. It clasped around his neck as if to strangle it. The sounds of explosions and fighting in the background began to die down. He couldn¡¯t breathe. He wanted to breathe. His eyelids felt too heavy to lift. The necromancer knew this feeling. It was a part of the mana he had in his body, but in a purer, more condensed form. He was dying. This was death. Blood was definitely pooling beneath him, but his thoughts were strangely blank. Peaceful, even. He never really thought he¡¯d die. Life was something he just accepted; something he just assumed would be there. But life was a fickle mistress, and now, it was leaving him. Alen didn¡¯t want to die, but he felt little resistance to it. Maybe death was like that. Maybe it was just a thought at the back of a person¡¯s mind, waiting to be accepted as soon as it came. He couldn¡¯t put up a struggle. Perhaps he was just too weak. Perhaps he even wanted it. Who knew, really? He couldn¡¯t really think straight at the moment. It was numb. Too numb. It was really cold. He felt lonely in the darkness. Even as all feeling left his body, the emotions in his mind only became stronger. They merged and congregated, merging into a single mass of pure will. Maybe this was how souls were formed on death; trying to escape death as life drained away from the body. It was in his head, cowering and compressing in on itself. Watching the green motes leaving to be replaced by numb, empty darkness. Everything he was, was now in one place. Alen couldn¡¯t think. The numbness spoke to him in a silence so loud he could almost hear its voice. ¡°¡­en.¡± The ice encased his eyes, and he lost his vision. Now, Alen could see. Darkness in all directions, and differently colored balls of light floating in the black sky like innumerable majestic suns. The floor was smooth. Like glass. A mansion stood in front of him. It rose, as dark and desolate as the world itself, but for some reason, Alen felt at home. He walked forward and opened the door, stepping into the home. It was nicer on the inside. White walls and red tapestry, golden tables and silverware, royal furniture and a roaring fireplace. A skeleton, his bones the color of midnight and containing many precious gems stared at him. It gazed at him curiously. ¡°¡­len.¡± He gave it a look. He knew this skeleton. Who was it, again? He couldn¡¯t think clearly. All he knew was the cold that he felt everywhere¡ªthe feeling of death. ¡°You¡¯re quite lucky,¡± The skeleton said, finally. Alen tilted his head. ¡°Ah, can¡¯t speak, can you? I was surprised seeing you walk in here,¡± Selerius said. ¡°I thought you¡¯d learned how to enter your mental space way ahead of the expected time. But no, you¡¯re dying now, aren¡¯t you?¡± He stared. The skeleton laughed, rubbing its chin as the blue flames in its eye sockets flared in interest. ¡°The God of Death will be disappointed if you die so early, you know. Well, not really, actually. I think he hardly cares at all. ButIwill be. You¡¯ve been quite an enjoyable experience, after all. It¡¯s not every day that I get to view the experiences and memories of a new arrival.¡± Alen didn¡¯t know what the skeleton meant. He felt cold. It was somewhat comforting, like a pleasure he¡¯d never enjoyed until it was amplified a thousand times. He felt light. Weightless. Like he could float up and¡­leave. ¡°Oh I wouldn¡¯t recommend that,¡± Selerius shook his head, the smile on his skeletal features seeming like it would never disappear. ¡°You¡¯re still alive, necromancer. Spare me another lifetime with another poor, old sod and wake up. It¡¯s not every day that I get to watch another necromancer grow.¡± The necromancer blinked. Something was changing. The cold was receding. He frowned. He wasn¡¯t supposed to be here. It was getting warmer. Voices were ringing in his ears¡ªcalling his name. He gave the skeleton a look, his emerald eyes containing a sudden clarity unlike before. ¡°You¡¯re really making yourself at home in my soul, huh?¡± ¡°I have no home of my own, so pardon the intrusion,¡± Selerius crossed his arms, giving him an appraising glance. ¡°I didn¡¯t think you¡¯d be back here so soon. Not until your next trial, at least. Now go on, then. Leave. You are being called.¡± ¡°I am, yeah.¡± He nodded. It really was time to leave. The lich gave him a look, then waved his hand dismissively. ¡°Try not to start dying so easily next time. As annoying as she was, you are nowhere near as attractive as my last host. I have no desire to see your face every fortnight.¡± Alen grinned and turned around, walking out of the house. The voices were getting louder. He recognized them. Lynn, and who was she again..? Ah, yes. The lizard lady. Valah. His form in his mental world was slowly dissipating. Alen noted the black and white sun that had abruptly grown brighter above and turned back to give the skeleton a final smile. ¡°I¡¯m glad to see we agree.¡± Alen¡¯s eyes fluttered open, and like a tidal wave, everything surged back to meet him.Boom!A deafening boom filled his ears as all the sounds in the world came rushing in at one, his eyes exploded into a shower of light and colors as he came back from his mental space, and finally, he saw two people looming over him. ¡°He¡¯s alive,¡± Valah said, walking away without another word. Her staff glowed brightly, a large shield covering the area around them. Barbs shattered against the surface, failing to even crack it. The look of concentration on her face however, could not be faked. She watched every member of her party, throwing out assistance where needed. Buffs and enhancements activated at the perfect times, preserving her mana as much as possible. Alen glanced away from the lizardwoman and looked up at Lynn who¡¯d offered her hand to him. He smiled and took it, standing up with a slight grunt. ¡°I¡¯m not dead.¡± ¡°Nope, unfortunately,¡± She grinned, but Alen saw the worry that had just left her face. He appreciated it. ¡°Valah swooped in as soon as you fell. Her healing power is outrageous. I can see why Alexandrius¡¯s team considers her so important. She¡¯d be irreplaceable in an army with how well she handles her magic.¡± Alen watched the battle raging on outside. Alexandrius slashed with his greatsword, and the Manticore dodged. It sent barbs at him, he deflected them with his weapon. Gravil rushed in, and his staff boomed against the monster¡¯s hide as he hit. It let loose a colossal bang, but the monster merely staggered a bit before clawing at him, its claws raking a terrifying gash along his armor. The tail pierced in, ready to kill, when another lizardman stepped in front of the muscle wizard, parrying the strike with his shield. Nexus, wielding his mighty halberd, swung in a wide arc, his weapon glinting coldly in the still dark canyon. The monster dodged, before countering with a spray of acid from its stinger. Nexus took the full amount to the chest, and hissed as his armor began to corrode. Valah chanted an incantation, and the acid disappeared with the shining of bright light. Alen suddenly spotted a lizardman darting in and out of cover, two crossbows in his hands. The two weapons had some sort of clip, like a gun would. Every shot fired hit, inflicting small, but mounting wounds. Bang!The world shook as Alexandrius brought his weapon down, his aura only rising. It cleaved a gash through the creature¡¯s scaly hide. It roared, and it literallybristled.Barbs exploded out from it in all directions, and the lizardmen were forced to retreat. Some hit the shield Valah had erected, and terrifying chinks appeared on the surface. She took a step back, the strain on her face evident. The dust on the distance began to clear, and the group watched two majestic wings unfurl from the creature¡¯s back. Sand flew into the air, and a powerful gust struck each of their bodies. Something darted out of the sand. Alen looked up. The Manticore had taken flight. ¡°I think it¡¯d be wise for us to fuck off,¡± He said. When Lynn didn¡¯t reply, he frowned and looked back to see her with her legs crossed, and her eyes closed in concentration. Her hands were clasped together, and from within shone a bright, cyan light. She slowly pulled them apart, and an arrow began to manifest. No. That wasn¡¯t an arrow. It was a needle. It had a body, but it lacked an arrowhead or fletching of any sort. She opened her eyes and grinned at it. ¡°We have to dosomething, or Alexandrius might slack on our pay.¡± Alen looked at it and felt the intense amount of mana compressed within it. It looked like a thin, weak little thing, but the necromancer knew this simple-looking needle would shatter a boulder with ease from the mana alone. ¡°What is that?¡± ¡°Well, I don¡¯t really know. I haven¡¯t named it, but it¡¯s the strongest arrow I¡¯ve made to date. Kind of a given when I¡¯ve compressed all my mana into it,¡± She said, pride on her pale face. It was easier said than done, after all. A single mistake and it would have shattered, injuring her in the process. She¡¯d only been able to do it after months of practice, and now, she was going to use it. She highly doubted the Manticore could shrug off something likethis. Roland ran into the shield, a nasty wound near his bicep. ¡°We need to retreat into the temple. That thing¡¯s too strong for us to have any real effect. I barely escaped that last barrage.¡± ¡°No, hold on,¡± Lynn shook her head. ¡°Valah, can you hold that barrier?¡± ¡°So long as that beast stays at a distance, I am confident.¡± She nodded, then motioned to Alen and Roland. The latter drank a potion in an attempt to heal his wounds. When the two reached her side, she held the arrow out to Alen. ¡°Pump everything into it.¡± ¡°What?¡± ¡°Your mana. Put a spell in it, make it stronger, whatever. Just make sure that Manticore has a bad day when it hits.¡± Alen took it and sat down, frowning at the intense cold that battered the nerves in his hands. He channeled his mana to protect himself. ¡°How are you going to make sure it hits?¡± ¡°We have Roland,¡± She said, motioning to the warrior, before impatiently pointing at the arrow in his hands. ¡°Come on now, don¡¯t make a lady wait. Put it in before the monster comes and eats us.¡± ¡°I never thought I¡¯d be in the receiving end of my own humor,¡± He muttered, sitting down and staring at the arrow. Behind him, Lynn and Roland were discussing something, and just outside of the barrier, the battle raged on. The Manticore was constantly trying to take shots at Valah and the ranged attackers, but their vanguard gave it little room to even breathe. It was flying, but Alexandrius could cover the distance with a leap. Gravil could fly, and Nexus¡¯s halberd could get longer. Alen scoffed at the lizard¡¯s attempt to compensate before placing his attention back at the needle-like arrow. He was strangely calm for someone who¡¯d almost died. He frowned and funneled his mana into the ice. Whywashe not bothered? From the moment he gained his bearings in Selerius¡¯s mansion, he hadn¡¯t felt a single shred of panic or fear. Why? Alen¡¯s mana kept entering the ice, but he wasn¡¯t focused on the task. His gaze was directed inside of himself. There was something new in there. It felt comfortable. Cool, and numb. An eternal nothingness¡ªthe finite endlessness of a dreamscape. What was it? He knew it was there, it stood alongside the rest of his mana types, in plain sight, but seemingly invisible. Alen kept searching, unaware that the arrow in his hands had changed color. What seemed like tendrils of fire surged into it, the flames burning black and white. The arrow turned black. Blacker. The flames didn¡¯t melt the ice, no. The flames made it colder. His mana was draining at a terrifying rate, but Alen didn¡¯t notice. He¡¯d found it. The sun of black and white flame. It stood beside the rest of the mana types he¡¯d cleared burning brighter than before. It flared with more ferocity than his other affinities, second only to the calm, fog-like appearance of Necrotic mana. It was cold and numb and eternal. It spun in a cycle of taking and conquering¡ªa gluttonous mouth that never ceased to hunger. It was death, and Alen had unlocked his affinity to it. He suddenly remembered Selerius¡¯s words: ¡®You¡¯re quite lucky.¡¯ He looked down at his hands and saw Lynn¡¯s arrow, now a deep vantablack that seemed to suck in the light. It rested in his palm, and any cold feeling that it once radiated was gone. Alen felt lightheaded. He checked his status. His mana was at five percent. Alen stood up on shaky legs and walked over to the other two. It felt like a daze, the rumbling and explosions coming from outside Valah¡¯s shield sounding like white noise. He reached his two friends and gently laid it in front of Lynn and Roland who were furiously flipping through the warrior¡¯s runebook. He stared outside, the booms and explosions resonating with the reverberating thoughts in his head. ¡°Lucky, huh,¡± He muttered, putting the pieces together. When he¡¯d finished Thagathos¡¯s trial, he¡¯d received an increase to all his affinities with mana types associated with death and necromancy. While this may have happened, it seemed that the increase didn¡¯t exactlyunlockthese affinities. They were still in his mental space, remaining as unusable as they¡¯d been since the first day. To utilize these mana types, he had to do to them the same things he did to his ice, water, and fire affinities. Cleanse the mana, identify the properties, adjust and configure, before ultimately creating a mana program. The first three steps had been done automatically after he¡¯d experienced talking to Selerius in his mental space just a few minutes ago, and right now, his mind was throbbing¡ªreeling with the influx of new information.This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work. Death mana was powerful. Virulent. His Deathbolt spell was using a foul mimicry of it, a poor imitation he¡¯d thought matched the original. A fraud that imitated death with necromancy. Ideas surged through his head, filling every corner of his mind. His mind throbbed from the mana deficiency, but he couldn¡¯t help the grin creeping up his face. This was it. He¡¯d get stronger with this. His undead would as well. In the same principle that water and ice complemented each other and only made Deathchill Grasp stronger, this new mana type would amplify parts of Necrotic mana itself. It opened up an entirely new world to him. Would he have to get into Life and the Restoration School of magic as well? Soul magic? The Conjuration School? He was on a crossroads; a branching path that that had a million arms extending into infinity. Alen stared at the Manticore, watched it blocking blows and tearing apart everything that neared it with its barbs, claws, tail, and teeth. He¡¯d kill one on his own one day. He was going to get stronger. Strong enough not to worry. Strong enough to enjoy the dreams of fantasy that had suddenly come to life. An arm rested itself on his shoulder. He glanced to the side and saw Lynn grinning at him. ¡°You ready?¡± Alen saw the arrow in her hands. It was brimming with power. The obsidian surface gleamed with a cold, deathly shine, while gray¡ªalmost white¡ªrunes covered the surface, flashing and arcing like static electricity. Roland stood off to the side, a look of pride on his face as he admired his work. The necromancer nodded at them. ¡°We¡¯re making a run for it as soon as it hits, right?¡± ¡°Not unless it kills the monster outright.¡± ¡°Keep dreaming, Lynn. It¡¯s good for your mental health.¡± ¡°Have you two even considered that it might cause the Manticore to target us?¡± Alen¡¯s robes spit out a few pieces of teeth. They immediately deformed, forming three large Droughtworms. The creatures churned within the sand around them. ¡°I did. Just now.¡± Alen said. ¡°We¡¯re escaping using these. Just let them swallow you, and they¡¯ll burrow into the sand. They¡¯ll spit us out right in front of the temple. From there, just run like hell.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t like this plan. I like Valah¡¯s shield. Why can¡¯t we stay, inValah¡¯s shield?¡± Roland noted the cracks round the barrier, and the various cheap shots the Manticore took to damage it. ¡°It won¡¯t last long. Valah¡¯s energy is being directed to helping Alexandrius and his team. If anything, we¡¯re wasting her mana by being here.¡± Lynn sighed and nocked a normal arrow against her bow. ¡°Why do you always have to be right?¡± ¡°Yeah Roland,¡± Alen mimicked. ¡°Stop being right.¡± ¡°The majority rule Roland, sorry,¡± She said, taking aim at the Manticore with the arrow. The wood crackled with the same runes. ¡°Ready when you are.¡± The warrior nodded and opened his runebook, staring intently at the monster outside. Alen saw that the obsidian arrow was still strapped to the elf¡¯s waist, while the arrow on her bow was a regular one covered in Roland¡¯s runes. He frowned. ¡°Wait, why aren¡¯t you using the¡ª¡° Lynn dashed out of the shield. Alen jumped in surprise, and he was about to rush after her when Roland grabbed his arm to stop him. ¡°Get those summons of yours ready to pick her up.¡± ¡°This wasn¡¯t part of the plan!¡± Alen said, watching the elf loose one arrow after another from different angles. They didn¡¯t fly, but instead rotated in place, waiting to be released. She leaped over rocks and sprinted up the walls, peppering the area with multiple arrows. Half of her quiver was quickly depleted. ¡°It¡¯s the best way to secure a hit. Focus on covering her,¡± Roland said. ¡°Now quiet down. I¡¯m trying to focus.¡± Alen grit his teeth and summoned his undead, prioritizing the ones with mobility over the rest. Wolves and spiders and flying insects formed all around him, and they rushed out of the shield, flying and running around the scene of the battle to take attention away from the white-haired elf. The Manticore hadn¡¯t noticed her yet, but it would soon. Lynn loosed another arrow¡ªa skeletal canine was blown apart by a stray attack. She twisted and shot another. A barb destroyed one of his beetles. It embedded itself into the wall just a few feet away from her. The necromancer frantically controlled his minions, weaving them into the fray to distract the monster. They served as annoyances to both parties, evident through the glares Nexus sent him after an undead accidentally blocked his path to land a strike. Alen paid him no heed. Droughtworms were swimming through the sand all around the large basin, constantly aiming and repositioning to catch the elf. The Manticore saw her running around and its eyes flashed with intelligence. It knew something was going on. Alen paled. His undead had the opposite effect. It was only drawing attention to them. He slapped his forehead.Not all monsters were stupid! Fuck!He commanded his undead, and a Droughtworm swallowed him up. Darkness. Rumbling. He was speeding out from under the sand. His summons transmitted a very rough understanding of what was happening outside. The Manticore stabbed at a lizardwoman with its tail. The appendage tore through the woman¡¯s armor, stinging her through the waist. She screamed. It took this opportunity, biting the blade of Alexandrius¡¯s greatsword and swiping at him. The crimson-scaled lizardman spun, using the sword as an axel to jump over the strike. He twisted the blade out of the monster¡¯s grip, and held it in front of him to block the volley of barbs that he knew was coming. They didn¡¯t come. Sharp spines tore through the air, shooting towards Lynn. She was in the middle of a jump, with no method to dodge quickly. She paled and reached towards something around her neck, but before she could reach it, the sand below her burst like a geyser. A Droughtworm erupted out from the sand, its mouth wide open. Something shot out of it. Lynn saw the emerald eyes flashing and felt an arm close around her leg. Her vision immediately toppled as she was sent off balance and dragged upwards by the necromancer¡¯s momentum. Booms rang out from behind her, the barbs tearing through stone like sharp teeth through bread. Spears of keratin ejected out of Alen¡¯s boots, slamming against the wall to send them forward. Lynn slipped her legs out from his arms and wrapped them around his head. She took the obsidian arrow and took aim. A shock went through her body as Alen let out a surprised sound, a spear exploding out from his boots and hitting the wall, sending them staggering through the air. ¡°Stop flailing around!¡± She screamed at him, hurriedly adjusting her aim. He shouted something back angrily, but it was muffled. The air screaming around them did little to help. The Manticore flapped its now injured wings and sent a gust of air into the sand, obscuring it from sight. An omnidirectional explosion of barbs and spines exploded out from the sand, hitting everything in around it. Some flew towards them. Alen managed to pull the back of her knee away from his face. ¡°I can¡¯t fucking see!¡± He shouted at her. His pupils suddenly constricted at the projectiles shooting towards them, and his remaining mana surged towards his feet. Lynn adjusted her position and loosed an arrow infused with wind mana in a panic. It exploded, barely taking the barbs off their course. The spines hit the walls far back, passing just to their right. One tore a gash through Lynn¡¯s shoulder. Alen screamed, his vision blocked once again as their position threw them off balance and sent them hurtling and spinning through the air. ¡°Catch us!¡± Lynn shouted, and he grit his teeth, sending a hooked spike out from his sleeve towards the direction where he last saw the canyon wall. His head throbbed from exhaustion. It found purchase. It shrieked against the stone, grinding their fall down to a screeching descent. His arm hurt. He couldn¡¯t fuckingsee.The rough layout his summons gave him was disturbed by their constant, erratic motions, but now that they¡¯d slowed down he was able to send a few commands to his undead. A Droughtworm erupted out from the sand and swallowed them both. Darkness. Rumbling. They were below the sand once again. The inside of the worm was too tight for two people to fit comfortably. Lynn squirmed, and her legs blocked his breathing in the tight space. He pushed, pulling himself deeper into his summon. He sucked in a breath as he was set free. A foot planted against his face. ¡°Fuck!¡± He roared, sending his minions out to fetch Roland. The Droughtworm swam through the sand like a fish through water, and they burst through the surface. It spat them out, and Alen felt the stone stairs of the temple beat against his back as they rolled down. Lynn leapt to her feet just as Roland was spat out of the sand by another Droughtworm beside them. ¡°Now!¡± She shouted, immediately loosing the black, needle-like arrow. The runes on the surface crackled, and the arrows she had floating in the air simultaneously exploded into motion. The orange-haired warrior got to his feet and hurriedly raised his arms towards the arrows. They began to tilt in the air, converging towards the Manticore. Some were destroyed by the wild flashes of energy from the fight. Others snapped against the defenses of Alexandrius¡¯s party. The rest continued to fly The Manticore twisted and avoided the black arrow that was flying faster than the rest. Roland¡¯s eyes flashed, and the runes on a normal arrow sailing through the air flashed with a bright light. It disappeared, and in its place, the black arrow appeared. The two had swapped places! It sunk into the monster¡¯s chest, and Alen immediately wrapped his arms around both of his companions from behind, powerful spears of keratin erupting from the soles of his boots to send them hurtling into the inside of the temple. A massive boom and an enraged roar of pain rang out from outside, causing the bones in their bodies to vibrate from the sheer force of the explosions that seemed to displace the air itself. A gust of wind surged into the temple, sending Alen¡¯s robes into a frantic billow. They hit the ground and rolled. Alen grunted as Roland¡¯s elbow accidentally plunged into his side. Pain. He was rolling.Bang!He hit the temple¡¯s walls and came to an abrupt stop. His vision blurred. It was dark. His mana was exhausted. The only light was coming from outside, outside where the battle had flared up with a new, terrifying level of ferocity. A hand closed around his arm and dragged him up. He groaned. Something was flowing down his face. Blood. He¡¯d sustained a cut from the multiple falls. A person with a waterfall of white hair flowing down her back dragged him forward. He got to his feet, fighting through the exhaustion to run through the temple, farther and farther away from the door. Two people were with him. Lynn and Roland. They were safe. He tried to let loose a sigh of relief, but the breaths left his body faster than the rate of which he could suck it in. A gray light lit up the path in front of them, radiating out from Roland¡¯s sword like ribbons of moonlight. The shadows in the walls danced in weird, distorted forms, waving and raving like lunatics. Alen took a while to figure out that the figures weren¡¯t screaming. It was the ringing in his ears. Unbearably loud, unpleasant and painful. He grit his teeth and stumbled forward. He wouldn¡¯t fall. The shadows in the wall seemed to watch, like a crowd passing them by. Alen fought the pain in his head. Something caught his foot. He tripped and fell. An armored hand pushed him forward, getting him back on his feet. There was a room coming up. They ran into it. It lit up. It was dome-like in shape. Statues stood in a circle, surrounding an altar in the center. On the altar laid a single orb, pitch black and containing a swirling energy that sparkled with millions of lights, looking as if the sky itself existed solely within the basketball-sized orb. Runes flared to life in the ground all around them, bathing the room in a bright, blue light. Alen vision continued to blur, but he was able to spot a single greatsword that leaned against the wall. It was red¡ªlike magma. Even from here, a heat radiated out from it. Roland moved past him quickly, banging his fists against the stone doors that had closed to lock them in the room. ¡°Locked,¡± He muttered. ¡°Damn it! Lynn, is there any other exit?¡± ¡°I can¡¯t see any!¡± Alen watched them, his mind muddled with a thousand thoughts that screamed incomprehensible gibberish. They were in a bad spot. The engravings on the ground were getting brighter by the second. He knew this, yet he couldn¡¯t think of a way to get them out. Roland¡¯s blade screeched against the door. It left nary a scratch. The light was getting brighter. His runes flared. They sent powerful shockwaves into the door. Nothing. The light only brightened. It was reaching a crescendo. Roland¡¯s hand reached towards the red blade resting against the wall. The light flashed. He didn¡¯t reach it. The world exploded into a void of endless blue light. It began to fade. It died down, and then, they were gone. Alexandrius stood in front of the Manticore¡¯s corpse. It had a gaping hole through its chest. He looked at it, remembering the image of the black arrow suddenly teleporting into existence and tearing through scales and flesh like paper. It had punctured the beast¡¯s lung and rotted the surrounding area to dust. The shockwaves that followed only served to stun it further. The arrow had given them the chance to surge in and kill it. In that, there was little to no doubt. ¡°Those three are interesting, aren¡¯t they?¡± A voice said. He looked and saw Tirilius walking towards them. He¡¯d disappeared during the fight, but Alexandrius knew that he was watching. The sly elf always was. ¡°They¡¯ve retreated into the temple. Let¡¯s retrieve them before they set off any traps.¡± The elf nodded and followed him in. The rest of his party waited outside, recovering from their wounds. Valah tended to the injured, giving the corpse of the Manticore a meaningful glance. ¡°Have you figured out the riddle to get that old lizard¡¯s inheritance yet?¡± Alexandrius hesitated, before he relaxed and let loose a sigh. ¡°¡­Yes.¡± ¡°Really? It made no sense to me, and I like to think I knew him the best. The bastard had no children, and there is no God of Sands, as he put it.¡± ¡°He meant the Crawling Canyon. Or rather, the being that this place is mounted upon. Ortena. The matriarch of insects, carrier of the Crawling Canyon; the queen of the Sandsea. The rest all point to the Drakeslayer¡¯s presence.¡± ¡°Ah,¡± Tirilius let out an impressed sound. ¡°I remember now. That person used to call that sword ¡®his baby¡¯, or his ¡®precious child¡¯. Quite disgusting, really.¡± ¡°My entire clan agrees,¡± Alexandrius grunted. The two walked for a bit more, the hallway extending farther than they originally thought. Tirilius perked up when a thought struck him. ¡°About those sets of numbers¡­¡± ¡°Deciphered. He used to play that game a lot with me as a kid. Add the numbers together, and they¡¯d represent a letter of that number on the alphabet. It was easiest to figure out,¡± The lizardman said, a trace of fondness in his words as he recalled his childhood. ¡°Oh? It almost makes me think he planned all this, but then I recall that Vex was never really much for looking into the future. Or planning. Or thinking much at all,¡± The elf shook his head. ¡°So? What do they mean?¡± ¡°I¡­ do not know,¡± Alexandrius shook his head. ¡°It came up as ¡®The Sky Beneath the Sea¡¯. He¡¯s never mentioned anything like it before. Hadrid and I were¡ª¡° ¡°What!?¡± Tirilius¡¯s eyes widened, and like a gust of wind, he was gone¡ªbolting down the passage to enter the room up ahead. Alexandrius frowned and dashed in after him. The hallway opened up to reveal a dome-shaped room. Alexandrius noted the dark crystal at the center, and the engravings on the floor below, but his eyes shone as soon as he saw the crimson blade leaning against the wall to the far right. It radiated heat that distorted the air around it, the material it was constructed from looking like scales torn fresh off a dragon. He walked over to it and picked it up, marveling at the power that seemed to surge into his arm. ¡°The Drakeslayer,¡± He said, his grin a wide crescent. Tirilius did not share his expression. ¡°Damn the gods!¡± The elf fumed, kicking the altar. ¡°Damn you Vexxaron! Damn your mother!¡± He shouted, letting his frustrations loose for a good minute. He slouched his shoulders, the energy leaving his body as he leaned against the stone altar, his despondent gaze on the lifeless orb before him. Alexandrius raised an eyebrow at the elf. The long-ear hadn¡¯t lost his cool since the moment they¡¯d met. What was this room? He marveled at the Drakeslayer, throwing his blade to the side and placing the new greatsword in its place. ¡°What are you cursing about for? We¡¯ve accomplished our reasons for headed here, right?¡± ¡°You¡¯re mistaken,¡± The elf said. ¡°You accomplishedyourgoals. Mine were taken right in front of me by threechildren. They won¡¯t even get to enjoy it! They¡¯ll die as soon as they reach it! It¡¯s a godsdamned waste!¡± The crimson-scaled lizardman looked around. ¡°Speaking of which,¡± He said. ¡°They seem to have disappeared. Where have they gone, Tirilius?¡± ¡°They are no longer here, boy.¡± ¡°Dead?¡± ¡°Not yet, but I¡¯d wager soon,¡± He sighed, looking at the now depleted orb on the altar. ¡°The sky beneath the sea. I can¡¯t believe that old lizard found it.¡± ¡°And that is?¡± ¡°The sky beneath the Sandsea, child,¡± He said. ¡°They¡¯ve stumbled into it¡ªstumbled into the grandest of dreams an explorer could hold. I¡¯m betting your uncle did too.¡± Tirilius gazed straight at Alexandrius. ¡°Those children have reached the Underearth.¡± End of Book 2. Patreon! So finally, after about two months of tears, self-hatred, and procrastination, I, Dissonance, have returned! Now, the next chapter will be out on RoyalRoadl by February 10th as promised, but right now, readers who become patrons will be able to read up to Book 3, Chapter 3 on my Patreon page!This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version. Aside from this, over the coming months, patrons will also be able to read some extra side chapters (nothing important to the main plot, so no paywalling), and will receive a copy of the book 1 re-write when I complete it. The link will be over in the post-chapter author''s note, and I''ll be back here in RRL in about 3 or so days. Thanks for reading! Book 3, Chapter 1: Not So Bottomless Pit Necromancer and Co., Book 3: The Underearth
Chapter 1: A Not So Bottomless Pit
[Alen] For Alen, teleportation was an exciting concept. Being able to teleport anywhere he wanted whenever he wanted was an extremely enticing offer. Hell, for the sake of laziness, he might¡¯ve even taken it over Necromancy under less¡­ violent circumstances. Often, he would wonder what teleportation would feel like. Would it be instantaneous? Would he feel like retching from motion sickness after warping? Or would he mess up and end up in a place he had no idea how to get out of? Possibly underground? Falling from the sky? Well, his questions were answered by the violent winds that roared past his ears in a deafening whisper. The answer was that all four of his assumptions were correct. Yes, it was instantaneous, yes, his stomach felt like a freshly shaken bottle of soda, and yes, he was in a place he had no idea how to get out of. Presumably underground. He was also falling. Again. ¡°Alen!¡± Someone shouted his name, the tired apathy in his mana-exhausted mind cleared. He saw the large, cylindrical tunnel that led straight downwards, its walls covered in glowing blue crystals that blurred past his vision like a speeding train and suddenly, a single thought sprang into his head: He was absolutely fucked. ¡°Alen!¡± Someone grabbed his shoulder from behind and slapped him across the face. His blank eyes cleared, and Lynn came into view, pointing at the falling form of Roland just a distance away. ¡°Grab him! We need to find a way to stop this fall before we become red puddles in wherever this pit ends!¡± ¡°What if it¡¯s bottomless?¡± said Alen, horrified. ¡°We can think about that after we stop falling!¡± ¡°Help me!¡± Roland screamed at them, pale as a ghost as he flailed about in the air. Alen pushed away Lynn¡¯s hair that was whipping about in front of his face and pointed his arm at Roland. With a grunt of effort, his mana churned and shot a pole of keratin out from his robe. The warrior grabbed onto it and frantically pulled himself closer. ¡°Whoa, slow down before you break the pole! Hey! Your grip¡¯s too strong! I haven¡¯t reinforced this thing with magic yet. Wait, no, are you scared of fucking heights!?¡± Alen hurriedly mended the pole where it was cracked, terrified at Roland¡¯s rapidly approaching pale face. Lynn took his hand and stretched her arms out, reaching out to Roland. ¡°Grab on!¡± She shouted. Roland grit his teeth and pulled himself forward in a sudden burst, his hand clasping around hers. The pole he was on disintegrated to dust. He glared at Alen. ¡°My dad threw me off the back of a griffon as a kid,¡± Roland lamented, shuddering at the memory. A plume of cloth exploded out of the back of Alen¡¯s robes, forming something of a parachute to slow their fall. The ends holding it together snapped at their combined weight. ¡°Shit!¡± Alen cursed, looking up at Lynn. ¡°My mana¡¯s too low to create a parachute sturdy enough to stop the fall at this speed! Slow us down!¡± She grit her teeth, then pulled Roland in further. Her right hand gripped the bracer attached to her left arm tightly, and with a crunch, a flicker of light leaked from the rifts and cracks that spread across the surface of the Windstone on her bracer. Sweat formed on her forehead, and with a final snap, the Windstone shattered into a million pieces. ¡°Hold on!¡± she shouted, and then, instead of being swept upwards by the wind battering against their faces, the dust formed from the shattered gem churned around them like a whirlpool. The wind strengthened, but it was no longer blowing past them¡ªit was twisting and whirling and roaring around their forms. The images of walls and glowing gems that swept past them in a blur slowed to manageable levels, indicating the lowered speed of their descent. ¡°Make whatever it is you¡¯re making now! I can¡¯t sustain this for long!¡± Lynn shouted, her arms spread out and beads of sweat forming on her forehead. Alen cursed under his breath, his mind throbbing in pain behind his bloodshot eyes with every mana-influenced edit he made to the AutoBone parachute. Suddenly, the white haired elf groaned in pain, and just like that, the wind sweeping all around them scattered away. They began to accelerate once again. Roland let out an uncharacteristic shout of horror, pointing to something below them. Alen¡¯s eyes followed his finger. His face paled. The tunnel downwards had begun to twist and curve, and if they didn¡¯t do anything soon, they really would turn into red stains that decorated the winding walls below. Alen pulled on his magic, and once again, a parachute billowed out from the back of his robes. His vision darkened for a moment as a sledgehammer seemed to pound against his ability to stay conscious. The keratin cloth groaned from the strain, but every second it gave them before they hit the stone was precious. Roland watched the ground approaching them at rapid speeds and gritted his teeth. He pulled his arm down under them and angled his shield. It simmered with a gray glow. The ground was approaching. Closer. Closer. Closer¡ª Bang! The shield slammed into the stone, and Roland pulled his arm away just in time to stamp his feet against the shield¡¯s metal frame. The steel screeched against the stone, and sparks sprayed into the darkness of the cavern like fireworks. Roland struggled to keep his balance. Alen felt himself fall, and a hand pulled him back and threw him over its owner¡¯s shoulder; Roland had saved him. Lynn was right behind him, ice at her feet to keep her planted on his shield. Alen reached out for a ledge, and despite the pain of his brain being beaten like a drum, a hook of keratin exploded out from his sleeve, but the lack of mana to reinforce it caused it to shatter against the wall. He grit his teeth through bloodshot eyes. His mana was at roughly one percent by now. If he used his magic one more time, he would be knocked unconscious. ¡°Lynn!¡± Roland shouted in a panic, and Alen whipped his head around to see that the slope had opened up into another fall just ahead. Lynn beside him stiffened, and he could see clear as day that they had an absolute lack of a plan. Alen pulled on his mana, ready to give his last push before falling unconscious, before a voice sighed in his head. Time slowed. ¡°Didn¡¯t I tell you to stop getting into these situations? Use the magic stone I gave you. It does more than just amplify your magic, you know. With the way you use your skeletons, I¡¯d have thought that you¡¯d have figured it out by now.¡± Selerius¡¯s voice melted away, and from within a sealed pocket inside of his robes, a green glow exploded out from the area near his chest. The slope disappeared below them. They began to fall. The cavern was different this time, full of holes and stalactites. Alen clutched at the small stone hidden within his robe, and the familiar sense of intimacy he felt towards it flowed from his hand to course through his body. His eyes widened as the magic in the vessel churned in response to his will. This thing was a necrotic mana stone! The magic in the stone coursed into his robes. The keratin bubbled with the mana within the stone. Alen¡¯s hair whipped around wildly, but through it, just below them, he spotted a ledge he could throw the three of them into. His magic flared. Boom! Roland¡¯s shield shattered a pillar of stone that blocked their way. The ledge came closer. Closer. One of Lynn¡¯s ballistic earth arrows tore through a large piece of stone falling from above them. Alen¡¯s eyes flashed. Now! The back of his robe burst outwards, and a pillar of keratin slammed into the wall behind him. It sent him forward. Lynn and Roland shouted in surprise as he grabbed them, pulling them forward with him. They blurred onwards, and just as Alen thought they¡¯d make it, a fragment of the pillar the size of a shopping cart fell from above and slammed into his back. He was propelled back down. The keratin pole shooting him forward broke from the force, and a single thought had the time to register in his head. He was fucked. Alen grit his teeth. There was no wall to push him forward below. Just another bottomless pit. Roland and Lynn were right above him, falling. Alen¡¯s fists clenched tightly. But that didn¡¯t mean that they had to be fucked with him. A thick pillar of keratin exploded out from the robe strapped to his chest. It slammed into Lynn and Roland. They looked at him, understanding registering in their eyes. Lynn screamed out his name. The two shot upwards, then fell back into the ledge, tumbling across and way from sight. Roland rolled, and looked up to see Lynn jump off the ledge after the necromancer. He bolted forward and grasped at the empty air below the ledge. The elf had already disappeared into the pit below. He paled at the feeling of the seemingly endless expanse below¡ªit was threatening to swallow him up. He staggered back, sweat on his brow. Roland glanced behind him. Darkness. The ledge opened up into a passage of sorts, a cave that ran deeper into the earth. He looked back down at the darkness below, and with a hard expression on his face, he turned his back from the fall and walked into the deep gloom ahead. If those two survived, he¡¯d find them. If they didn¡¯t¡­ Roland kept walking in silence. Alen was falling. He fell a lot. He usually stood back up right afterwards. That was just what he did. Whenever he fell, he¡¯d stand up, and he¡¯s keep on walking. That¡¯s how he¡¯d always gone about it. It had kept him moving forward. It had never failed him. Now however, there was a worrying lack of ground to stand back on. His hair whipped past his face. It sure was long now. Alen couldn¡¯t remember the last time he had a haircut. He sighed and closed his eyes. So much for finding his old friends. It looked like it was the end of the line for him. He felt regret swell up in his chest, but a sense of satisfaction was mingled along with it. He smiled. He was a badass necromancer. He had survived the forest of undead. He had traversed the Sandsea¡ªthrived in the Crawling Canyon, the back of the giant centipede Ortena herself. And now, his final action had been to save his two new friends. It painted quite the tale. Even though death was coming, Alen felt satisfied at how far he¡¯d come. The only thing he was worried about besides his friends were Lynn and Roland. He sure hoped they¡¯d manage to get out of this place alive. He quite liked them, after all. They were cool. Alen opened his eyes, intending to see the beautiful, luminescent blue crystals blur past his vision one last time, but instead, a figure began to fall past the darkness. A girl. Beautiful white hair. Blue eyes. Long ears. He felt anger rise up his throat as Lynn called out to him. ¡°Alen!¡± She waved, grinning. ¡°Lynn,¡± Alen roared, glaring at her. ¡°You dumbass! Why do you think I pushed you two up there!? You aren¡¯t supposed to jump back in right after I do something so goddamn heroic! Are you trying to shit on me one last time before I die!? You ruined it! How am I supposed to go off in my final moments now!?¡± Lynn dived, speeding up her descent. When she caught up to him, she punched him lightly on the shoulder. ¡°Thanks,¡± she said. Alen pursed his lips, caught off guard and unsure of what to say back. She laughed at him. For some reason, Alen felt the tears well up in his eyes. ¡°Why?¡± he asked through the roaring of the wind, looking straight at her. ¡°Personal thing,¡± she shrugged, shouting back. ¡°I just hate it when I don¡¯t pay someone back after they do something for me, y¡¯know? It just seemed wrong to keep you hanging¡ªwell, falling. I wanted to at least thank you!¡± ¡°How the hell are you going to repay me if both of us are going to die!?¡± Lynn shrugged, her hair flowing past her. ¡°If you¡¯re going to die trying to save me, then the least I could do is keep you company,¡± She smiled, then waved her hand to the side. ¡°Not like I have much waiting for me, anyway. You saved Roland, at least. He¡¯s too scared of heights to follow us down here. I think this is good enough.¡±Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions. Alen wiped his eyes. ¡°This fucking sucks,¡± he whispered. His voice was taken by the wind, but the elf seemed to understand. She nodded. ¡°I''ll have to agree, but as you say, shit happens, right?¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± ¡°The passage is opening up. I think the fall¡¯s about to end. So much for a bottomless pit. I was hoping to have a nice chat for a few more minutes at least.¡± ¡°Lynn, I just want to say¡ª¡° Alen started. ¡°Oh!¡± She interrupted him. ¡°We might survive this! Give me a second!¡± A soft, white light flashed from beneath the elf''s clothing, around her neck, and in an instant, her hand had clasped around a glowing, green stone. Interrupted for the second time, Alen changed what he was about to say. Lynn shattered the windstone, and the resulting explosion of violent wind and mana slowed their fall by a significant amount. Before they hit the surface of the lake, Alen spared the effort to give her a glare. ¡°I hate you,¡± was all he could say, before they plunged deep into the water below. --o-- Alen emerged from the water gasping and sputtering. Seeing the lakeshore just a distance away, he forced the strength to flow through his limbs and began to swim. By the time he reached the bank, his head was throbbing with so much pain that he thought he was going insane. Alen crawled out of the water and collapsed with his back to the cold stone below. His closed eyes opened, and slowly, they widened further at the twinkling lights above. Black stone and flickering gemstones made up the cavern ceiling. Stalactites of blue crystal hung down like chandeliers, their glow bathing the lake below in a beautiful radiance. The surface of the water glimmered with an otherworldly light, while the ceiling served as the night sky, granting the underground world its own set of twinkling stars. Alen carefully let loose a breath, as if afraid that it would blow away the sense of awe he felt towards the scene before him. He licked his lips, managing to stand up with a bit of effort. Alen wondered if his two teammates would have the same reaction to this place as wel¡ª ¡°Oh shit, Lynn!¡± He sprang up and slapped his forehead. That was right, she fell with him! Alen grit his teeth through the migraine and prepared himself to jump into the water again when he spotted the spreading sheet of ice in the distance. It was about the size of a dinner table, and at the center of it stood the familiar figure of Lynn who was similarly staring at the ceiling. ¡°Hey!¡± Alen shouted. ¡°Lynn! Hey! I¡¯m over here!¡± The elf blinked and looked up at the crystals above one last time before walking towards him, ice forming at the bottom of her feet to help her walk over the lake¡¯s surface. When she reached him and noted his haggard appearance, she nodded, impressed. ¡°I honestly thought we¡¯d be dead by now, you know? I don¡¯t know whether to feel sorry or impressed for you at this point. I¡¯m just a tagalong after all. It¡¯s like you just have that something that attracts bad luck. First, getting stuck in the Crawling Canyon, then being the first to be struck down by the Manticore to, well, this. Have you always been this unlucky?¡± ¡°I was literally dropped as a baby,¡± said Alen. ¡°Explains a lot,¡± she nodded, grinning, before looking at his worn state. She frowned. ¡°You need a break? Roland should be somewhere in here too. I can try contacting him with our party¡¯s voice messaging system.¡± ¡°Yeah. Actually, ask me what¡¯s up,¡± Alen started walking, and tilting her head, she followed. ¡°¡­Why?¡± ¡°Do it.¡± She gave him a look, then sighed, ¡°What¡¯s up?¡± Lynn relented. ¡°The ceiling,¡± he ignored her glare, ¡°Literally. Look up. Do you see the hole we fell through? I¡¯m not sure if it¡¯s just the lights, but I don¡¯t see a thing.¡± Lynn frowned. ¡°The ceiling¡¯s smooth¡ªalmost like a dome, actually. I don¡¯t see anything from here either,¡± she looked around the place, her frown deepening, ¡°and I certainly can¡¯t see an exit.¡± Alen nodded. ¡°Yeah,¡± he sighed. ¡°I thought that it was just my crappy human eyes, but you have better vision in the dark than I do, right? If you can¡¯t see anything either, then I¡¯m afraid this place is going to become a problem.¡± ¡°Right,¡± she agreed, before interacting with a few blue screens that were invisible to Alen. ¡°Hello?¡± Alen heard her voice in his head. Voice chat. Lynn scratched her cheek with a finger, pursing her lips at the lack of a response. ¡°Hi,¡± Alen sent back. She gave him a look, then sent another message. ¡°Roland? Hello? Please come get us. Alen might attract another disaster with whatever he has on him, and I don¡¯t want to be here when that happens. I¡¯d rather we leave him behind, really.¡± Alen glared at her. ¡°Roland, my boy,¡± he spoke through the chat. ¡°We¡¯re stuck in an underground world, you know? If you¡¯re there, I vote we kick the elf out of the party. She eats way too much, and supplies are limited. While we can always fatten her up and eat her, I don¡¯t think she¡¯d taste nice to be honest. She¡¯s rancid enough alive. I¡¯m sure she agrees too.¡± ¡°I disrespectfully disagree. This is new territory, Roland. Look at him. Does this guy look like he¡¯s good at dealing with people? If we meet natives, getting chased out of a village would be the least of our worries with him around.¡± ¡°She¡¯d just raid their storehouses to eat. Don¡¯t you know that stealing was punishable by torture and execution in some cultures? She¡¯s dangerous, man.¡± ¡°He¡¯ll threaten to do horrible things to their children!¡± ¡°She¡¯ll eat their children!¡± ¡°Fight me!¡± She screamed. Alen took a stance and prepared to charge at her. ¡°Come at me, you fucking glutton!¡± The elf waved her hand. Water splashed down from above him. He looked up, and when he saw the grin on her face, he paled. ¡°Wait, no. Magic isn¡¯t allowe¡ª¡° She waved her hand again. The water soaking him froze, and he immediately felt his body stiffen. The ice solidified, and almost comically, he fell to the ground, frozen solid. He screamed through the coating of ice, but his words were incomprehensible as he couldn¡¯t move his lips. Lynn walked up to him, laughing. ¡°What was that?¡± she asked. More screeching. Probably cursing. No, she thought, probably entirely curses. She nodded to herself in agreement. ¡°You¡¯ll be OK, Alen. I can¡¯t hear you, but if you¡¯re complaining about the cold, you have that spell, right? Numb Senses?¡± She squatted down, smirking from above. ¡°Oh, suck it up you little baby. You won¡¯t die from a little cold. Your stats are too high for that. It¡¯ll feel like walking around naked on a snowy day at most. Everyone¡¯s done it at least once. It¡¯ll be plenty comfortable. You have an affinity to fire too, right? Just melt it off when you can use your mana again. I¡¯ll just be looking around. If the bad men come, just scream, okay?¡± With that, she left. Alen gritted his teeth and waited for his mana to recover. Numb Senses was in effect, but his mana was low enough that he didn¡¯t want to spend too much, and while it did make some of the cold go away, it was about as comfortable as a king¡¯s bed made of, well, ice. He couldn¡¯t exactly be creative with his comparisons at the moment. His head was jelly with all the spell-spamming and mana-using he¡¯d been doing. He sighed internally. The situation really made him realize how badly he did some things today. Mana management. He was garbage at it. Alen tried to make up for that fact by improving spell programs and reducing the amount his magic used, but really, he was just bad at estimating how much he had left until his head started hurting. Alen promised himself that he would make a program for a mana bar that would show up somewhere in his line of sight without needing to be summoned one day. That should ease some of his problems. He looked down at himself. As for this¡­ He¡¯d find a way over effects like this eventually too. He was restrained way too easily just now, and if he encountered an enemy that specialized in crowd control effects, then he was toast. Maybe some armor that decayed effects? Or one that just made him strong enough to ignore them? Alen shivered. He looked down at himself and grunted. Enough contemplation. His mana was already at fifteen or so percent anyways. He grit his teeth, and despite the small ache on the back of his head, he channeled his mana again, flavoring the pure magic with his fire affinity. It melted far too slow. Figures, he complained. He grunted and amped up his magic. Ice dripped off his face. He grinned. Steam began to rise, and seconds later, he was back on his feet. Alen let loose a breath. ¡°Now, where did she go?¡± He raised an eyebrow and assessed his surroundings. The entire place was far from barren. Aside from the lake at the center, boulders decorated the landscape, accentuated by fluorescent mushrooms and creeping, blue vines that slithered down from various high points all over the cavern. Alen pursed his lips. Where the hell did she go? Seeing that standing around would accomplish practically nothing, Alen looked at his mana one last time and began to walk. The cavern was pretty nice, all things considered. Alen always wanted to see glowing mushrooms. This place was pretty clich¨¦, if he was going to be honest, but still. The classics were the classics for a reason, and if glowing mushrooms didn¡¯t fall into that category, then elves would be niche too. After all, glowing mushrooms were just straight up nicer. Elves were mean. Alen fell into thought and tilted his head. It was actually interesting to think about how these things glowed. He could always just use ¡®ooh magic¡¯ to justify everything, but if there was anything he¡¯d ever learned from Mana Programming, it would be that mana had a structure¡ªa system. Essentially, these things glowed for a goddamned reason, and he wanted to find out. Alen grew a thin, keratin pole from his sleeve and snapped it off. With his mana capacity, it barely taxed him to do something like it, especially when the keratin wasn¡¯t even strengthened with his magic. He held the pole in his hand, and just to make sure he wouldn¡¯t get killed by touching one, he poked a mushroom with it. The mushroom grew eyes, black and beady. Almost cute, even. They blinked, before slowly settling on him. Alen stared. It shuddered in response, then a pair of arms and legs popped out from its body. The mushroom stood up, tilted its head at him, and took off. Alen watched it run past him, stunned. Other mushrooms in the area grew eyes as well, giving him and the other shroom curious glances before ultimately going back to sleep. Alen blinked, then shook his head and ran after the mushroom. ¡°Wait!¡± He called out to it, but the mushroom paid him little heed as it hobbled down a few rocks, descending down a slope. Alen ran after it, slipping on his way down. Pebbles and dust rolled down with him, and as Alen hit the ground, he rolled and gracefully got back on his feet before taking off into a run again. The fluorescent little creature turned a corner into some sort of passage, and Alen followed. His steps slowly came to a stop. The cave entrance opened up into a large area that housed two tents of a material Alen couldn¡¯t recognize at first glance. A fire blazed in the middle of the camp, but it hardly attracted his attention. Alen¡¯s eyes were glued to the pikes in front of the camp that had been stabbed into the earth. On the ends of the wooden spikes were the heads of pale-skinned, big-eyed humanoid creatures. Blood dripped to the earth below. Torsos and limbs were stacked neatly beside the tents, while a small torso sizzled above the fire. It was that of a child¡¯s. His eyes traveled to the tents. It looked eerily familiar. He felt cold sweat line his back. Those tents were made of skin. Flayed¡ªstitched together. A chill crept down his spine. Alen took another involuntary step back, face as white as a ghost. He heard steps coming from behind him. Alen screamed in a panic and whirled. Lynn looked back at him, her face pale. She opened her mouth. Her lips were trembling. ¡°Alen,¡± she whispered, her voice laced with horror, ¡°We need to leave. Now.¡± He was about to answer when his eyes flashed. The mushroom. It was what led him here! Alen looked back at the mushroom just in time to see its beautiful blue glow turn into a menacing, bloody red. It grew a mouth. Alen channeled his mana into his sleeve. He screamed. ¡°Don¡¯t¡ª¡° It screamed louder. A piercing screech like nails on a blackboard filled the caverns. ¡°Agh!¡± He covered his ears, feeling the insides of his already throbbing head vibrate. Lynn was the same, covering her ears and crying out in pain. Numb Senses came into effect. Alen grabbed her arm, and at the same time, pikes of keratin exploded out from the soles of his boots. They shot out of the cave. The pain was gone, but the ringing in his ears persisted even through Numb Senses. A spear shot out of the cave¡ªit buried into his shoulder. The impact sent him spinning midair. They slammed into the ground, rolling. The spear was ripped out by the fall, taking flesh with it. The edges were hooked. Shouting. Maniacal laughter. It was coming from behind them. Alen¡¯s body continued to roll, but he refused to stop there. His robe knit back together. Alen channeled the mana to his back. Pikes exploded out from the back of his robe. It sent them into the air again, and when Alen looked down, he saw three horned, obsidian-skinned men with piercing red eyes rush out of the cave. The spears they¡¯d thrown from their bags had impaled the spot the two of them had just been in. The things sprinted towards the two of them. Ringing. His ears were still ringing. Alen grit his teeth and blew a column of Rotfire into the three of them. He screamed. His head felt like it was burning. The enemy emerged from the flames unscathed. More spears flew at them. A shield of keratin exploded from Alen¡¯s right arm, covering them in a half-sphere. Some of the spears pierced through. One got him through the side. Another impaled his left hand. Numb Senses. Bone Spear sent them away further. His mana was declining. Lynn was behind him. She screamed out his name. She pulled him back, ice forming as they landed on the ground. She carried him, her feet gliding above the surface of the ice. She threw something to the ground, and a pillar of snow rose up from the frost tracing behind her feet, absorbing the next volley of spears like a sponge. The demonic-looking creatures shredded the hill of snow apart. Lynn was panting. Alen¡¯s vision was blurring. More spears. One pierced through her bicep. She cried out. Alen planted his feet to the ground and roared. A boom rang out. A powerful bone spear had shot them into the air. They were above the lake now. One of the three men blurred ahead of the other two and jumped after them. The man drew his fist back for a strike. Alen raised his arm, and a thick layer of reinforced keratin covered his forearm. The figure punched¡ªthe keratin shattered. Alen felt something in his arm crack. Lynn grabbed an arrow from her quiver and stabbed it into the figure¡¯s chest. The arrow shaft snapped off. Alen pulled his torso back and aimed his feet at the creature. He kicked. Bone Spear. Bang! The bone spears collided with its chest, sending it back and them forward. The necromancer raised his arms. Black, Numbing Mist billowed out from Alen¡¯s sleeves, obscuring them from sight. Lynn pulled him down and with a splash, they sunk into the lake below. The waterstone on her bracer glowed, and like a torpedo, they shot towards the bottom of the lake. The pressure squeezed out blood from Alen¡¯s wounds. His vision was darkening¡ªfogging up. He wouldn¡¯t be conscious for long. Lynn was pulling them into what looked like a hole in the bottom of the lake. Alen looked over at her and spared the energy to give her a glare. This girl had better not get him killed. Book 3, Chapter 2: An Old Friend Necromancer and Co., Book 3: The Underearth
Chapter 2: An Old Friend
[Lynn] Lynn pulled on the air around her with her magic, the mana arcing out of her body like invisible, twisting roots. The vines wrapped around the surrounding magic, and with a grunt, she reeled the roots in and formed bubbles of air around her and Alen¡¯s heads, pushing the water away before the necromancer in her arms somehow managed to drown to death. She gasped for breath, and looking back the way they came, she hurried her pace. It was safe to assume that those creatures¡ªwhatever they were¡ªwere after them, and she absolutely refused to deal with their spears a second time. Her face twisted into a grimace. The wound on her bicep was bleeding profusely. While she trusted that her attributes¡ªor stats, as Alen had called them¡ªwere high enough to prevent her from bleeding to death any time soon, but that didn¡¯t mean that she wouldn¡¯t be weakened. She needed to treat both of them, and soon. Who knew what hid in this abyss? The water propelling them forward sputtered like a wheezing, dwarven engine and finally stuttered to a stop. She muttered an elven curse under her breath and struggled to use the waterstone in her bracer to channel her magic. She closed her eyes. She was a tree, and her magic herself. Roots, trunk, branches. In the same fashion, her mana reached out and tapped into the elemental stone, causing it to flicker to life once again. A foreign magic traveled up her roots, passed through her body, and by the time it reached the branches, it had blossomed into something she could control. They sped forward once again. It was dark, she noted. Even with her vision, the outlines of the rocks and pebbles below were barely visible. The water churned and twisted around her, speeding up her escape.Even the water is different,she frowned. It was thicker¡ªharder to manipulate. Like the air surrounding their heads, everything was filled to the brim with natural, ambient mana. Even more so than the surface. It felt heavy, but Lynn couldn¡¯t deny the strength it lent her magic. Eventually, up ahead, the darkness began to give way, and little strands of blue light slipped through the clear water to shine down on her from above. The blue crystals, she figured. They were interesting to her. Glowing stones were no rarity, as even normal stones held some kind of mana within, but the stones that lit up the underground world were different. There was no rock, no natural stone that lay within the stone, no. The feeling she got from the stones was that they were made entirely out of magic¡ªpure mana crystalized and compressed into small, glowing crystals. As she swam up from the bottom of the underground river and surfaced into the pocket cave above, she observed them carefully. With these, maybe I could¡­she shook her head. It was one thing to theorize on what they were, and another to attempt to cast magic through one. With the way she handled her spells, Lynn knew how volatile mana stones were. It was only with her magic roots being able to sap and assimilate magic from the elemental stones that she was able to use so many elements. Lynn set Alen down on the stone floor. Seeing that he wasn¡¯t awake, she reached into the back of her neck, and slowly, she tenderly unclasped a necklace before setting it down to rest on her palm. The delicate, silver chain link glittered in the blue light that cascaded from above, and as her eyes traced their length, they eventually settled on the beautiful, snow-white ring that gently rested upon her palm. She closed her fist, feeling the smooth, wooden texture of the ring on her skin. Her mana reached into it, and suddenly, with a short flicker of white light, two small vials of golden-red liquid flashed into existence on her other hand. A Ring of Holding. Quite the expensive one, by the looks of it. She silently apologized to Roland in her head. The elf gazed at them and hesitated, sending a glance toward the unconscious necromancer beside her. He was losing blood quickly; his crimson ichor staining the stones below with a thick layer of red. She felt the hesitation drain from her. If saving a comrade that sacrificed himself for her wasn¡¯t worth a use of these potions, then what was? She was a Frostwood¡ªa declining clan, but one whose roots had clawed deep into the earth of her homeland nonetheless. She was taught of the importance of familial bonds and camaraderie all her life. If her uncle ever found out that she left a friend like him to die over saving a couple potions, he¡¯d probably tie her up and toss her into a Frost Wyrm¡¯s den himself. Lynn quickly pulled the corks off the vials, before carefully slipping the liquid down her companion¡¯s throat. She¡¯d never heard of anyone dying from choking on a health potion, but the irony would probably be enough to bring Alen back from the grave just to scream at her for a couple of hours. She smiled at the thought. She never thought she¡¯d find someone so much like Elysia in her adventures throughout the continent. Well, not anymore,she thought, watching Alen¡¯s wounds glow and disappear like they were never there. She guessed that she wasn¡¯t in the continent anymore, at least not anywhere near the surface. That fall of theirs was absurdly long, and that was considering that they were teleported midway into the fall. After making extra sure that the necromancer wasn¡¯t choking on his own spit or something, she put the other vial back into the ring. It wasn¡¯t enough to use one of those on such a simple wound on her bicep. She sent her mana into the ring and bandages and healing salves cluttered to the ground in front of her. She quickly patched herself up, before downing another, far less expensive potion. She browsed through the contents of her ring, and after a few seconds of thought, she threw her Waterwood bow inside and pulled a foreign set of items out: A bow, a quiver, and a set of twilight leather armor laid on the ground before her. Lynn stared at her items and shuddered. If she had been in the surface world, she¡¯d have never brought these things out. If anyone who knew of these items saw her with them, she¡¯d be hunted down, robbed, and killed faster than a fat boar during an Orcish Winter Festival. ¡°Uncle¡­¡± She muttered. These werehisitems.Hispartners before he retired. And now, with his hopes on her shoulders, he¡¯d given them toher. She quickly found a quiet spot and donned the armor, throwing the bow and quiver over her shoulders. Lynn secured the straps, the boots, and the bracers carefully on her body, making sure that everything was perfect. It would be her first time donning the armor, and she¡¯d be damned if she was letting herself look sloppy in it. She gave her old equipment a final, appreciative look before she tossed them into the ring too. Gazing at herself in the water, a sense of satisfaction welled up in her chest. She¡¯d wanted to wear these for so long, but she¡¯d also known that she wasn¡¯t strong enough to protect them from those that wanted to take it from her, so she had kept it hidden. Here, though? She had nothing to fear. Lynn stepped out of the corner, and her eyes looked back up from the ground in time to lock eyes with Alen, who had just woken up. He stared at her in confusion. ¡°Why the fuck do you have a cape?¡± She grinned. ¡°I look good, don¡¯t I?¡± ¡°You have acape,¡± he repeated. ¡°It¡¯s to keep the cold off.¡± ¡°Is it?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°Really?¡± ¡°No,¡± she admitted. ¡°My uncle said that it just made him look really cool whenever he disappeared into the darkness after being chased.¡± ¡°Are you¡­ are you going to take it off any time soon? It bothers me to see an actual cape.¡± ¡°What? No. It looks cool.¡± Alen sighed and observed their surroundings. ¡°I¡¯m assuming the big, bad men are gone? I screeched heroically when I fought them off, right? ¡®Prolly scared them off.¡± ¡°You got stabbed four times and fell unconscious.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t remember it like that. I have a good memory.¡± ¡°You took four days to memorize the name of the merchant we escorted to the Sandsea.¡± ¡°What? You mean Amelia?¡± ¡°His name was George.¡± ¡°Damn,¡± his shoulders sagged. ¡°Yep,¡± she agreed. Alen paused, blinked, then tilted his head at her. ¡°I mean, Idoremember taking four spears to the everywhere to save your ass when we were running,¡± he said, then motioned to his robes. Holes were torn into the keratin, but there were no wounds to be found whatsoever, ¡°but where are the holes? I don¡¯t know about you, but getting stabbed with a spear usually leaves a pretty obvious mark.¡± ¡°Potion,¡± she said, after a long moment of hesitation. ¡°I thought we were out? Actually, what¡¯s with your getup? Even your bow and quiver have changed,¡± he observed, eyeing her new equipment. ¡°I¡¯m assuming these are your uncle¡¯s? The one you talked about? You didn¡¯t steal them, did you?¡± ¡°Oh, no,¡± she shook her head. ¡°I could never steal from my uncle. If I even tried, I¡¯m confident that he¡¯d sneak up and steal frommeinstead,¡± she bit her lip, hoping for a change of subject. ¡°I see,¡± Alen said. He studied her expression, and after he seemed to see something in her eyes, he nodded and shrugged. ¡°If you¡¯re uncomfortable with telling me about it, fair enough. I won¡¯t ask any more.¡± ¡°Yeah,¡± she nodded, ¡°thanks.¡± ¡°I should be thankingyou, really. And in that regard, thanks for the potion. With how fast it healed me up, it must¡¯ve been expensive. I¡¯ll pay you back eventually.¡± She grinned. ¡°Is that an all you can eat offer?¡± ¡°I¡¯m dirt poor right now. I can treat you to some high quality rocks though. Crunchy.¡± Lynn clicked her tongue at the sheepish grin he gave her. She looked at him, then motioned to the underground river flowing just beside them. ¡°So, what do we do now? This is just a small cave pocket I found, and there doesn¡¯t seem to be any exit here,¡± she pursed her lips, then gave him a look. ¡°Any ideas? I think our best bet would be the diving into the river again.¡± Alen sighed. ¡°I always hated underwater dungeons,¡± he said, then paled. ¡°Oh no,¡± he muttered. ¡°Oh no, no, no¡­¡± Hurriedly, he tore at his robes, the fabric splitting away in accordance to his magic. Lynn always found it fascinating¡ªbeing able to create anything he wanted with his mana was extremely useful. She could do the same with her ice affinity, but to a much lesser degree. She watched in puzzlement as he brought out a thick plate of keratin near his waist. It was cracked, and a corner had been completely blown off. Lynn remembered the spear that pierced his side. She watched him crack open the plate. Unexpectedly, the top cleanly slid off the plate, revealing a black, rectangular object within. It was cushioned with soft, gray cloth that she presumed he also made with his magic. He pulled it out and cradled it in his arms. She noted its cracked, glass-like surface and finally recognized the object. ¡°Isn¡¯t that¡­ what do you call it again? The foon?¡± ¡°Phone,¡± he said, sighing in relief. ¡°It doesn¡¯t look to be any more damaged than before.¡± ¡°It¡¯s really messed up, though. How did you even crack it that much?¡± ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure you know the gods have a fetish for throwing me into situations where I fall to my highly probable demise,¡± he lamely said. ¡°Ah,¡± she nodded, watching him put the foo¡ªphone back in the case, before sealing it shut. His mana coursed into the piece of keratin, and she saw it repair itself before hardening, the material being compressed until its strength increased once again. Alen¡¯s robe knitted itself together, and a pocket suddenly opened up on the side of the fabric. He threw the plate in, and the pocket disappeared once again. He let out a breath and closed his eyes, crossing his arms to his chest. He thought for a moment, before looking back up at her. ¡°The river¡¯s our best choice, yeah. Only choice, really, but oh well. I can take a day without bitching about it.¡± ¡°Are you ready then?¡± ¡°Nah,¡± he shook his head. ¡°My mana¡¯s not fully recovered yet, and as you saw, I¡¯m plenty useless without it. I¡¯d say you need a rest too. Go take a nap or some shit. I¡¯ve already spent enough time unconscious in one week to last me a month. Go and rest. I¡¯ll keep watch.¡±Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site. Lynn nodded and set herself down near the wall. She leaned against it and watched Alen pull up a screen that was invisible to her. By the gestures he was making with his hands, she suspected that he was fiddling with that thing he called the AutoBone again. Lynn watched in interest. Magic was different for everyone, people would often say¡ªa natural force that obeyed those strong enough to manipulate it. Some users in the same thresholds could be stronger, and some weaker depending on the kind of methods they used to manipulate the pure mana resting within their bodies. When she¡¯d asked Alen about his methods long ago, he¡¯d given her an explanation that barely made sense. He¡¯d given magic a language, one even more complicated than the runes enchanters like Roland carved. While she often thought that it was needlessly complicated, the results it gave him weren¡¯t to be questioned. Even now, his capabilities continued to astound her. She thought about her own magic. To Lynn, she was a vessel¡ªa tree that stood in the center of a world that swam in mana. Her roots would dig into the earth and become her world¡¯s foundation, while her branches would cover the sky and grasp at the stars, growing one inch at a time. Elves had long lifespans, but as long as it wasn¡¯t snuffed out, Lynn¡¯s magic would last through eternity. Growing. Thriving. Even now, she felt the roots of magic that she¡¯d created. They dug into the ground, and snaked out into the air, supplying her magic with the nourishment it needed to grow. Her twelfth threshold wasn¡¯t far off, she idly noted, feeling her eyelids start to close. As she drifted off into unconsciousness, she shivered. A cold breeze had blown over from the river. It¡¯s cold,she complained internally, remembering the cold lands that she had fled from. The memories filled her heart with an a feeling of emptiness, but suddenly, a warmth akin the comfort of sitting in front of a roaring hearth washed over her body. Another memory replaced the cold, desolate woods she envisioned. Her consciousness began to drift as a single word chimed to life within her slipping thoughts. Home,she remembered, falling asleep with a warm smile that gently traced her lips. ¡ªo¡ª Lynn¡¯s eyes slowly cracked open to the picture of looming cavern walls and gently glowing blue stones. Just a few meters away from her, an underground river churned and swept across the rocks, carrying them farther up the stream, and deeper into its watery depths. She fought against her drowsiness and stood up, pushing away the blanket that had been draped over her as she slept. A flash of recognition registered in her eyes as soon she saw the material¡ªkeratin, as Alen had called it. It was surprisingly warm. The blanket reminded her of the woolen coats her grandfather used to drag around everywhere. She smiled at the memory. She gazed around the cavern and found the necromancer asleep just a short distance away, curled up in a blanket of his own. Knowing that he had probably just fallen asleep, she took off her boots and gazed down at the river below. The elf contemplated diving in and looking for food, but figured that splitting up would do more harm than good in their current situation. She opened their party chat and sent a message over to Roland. She sighed at the silence that followed.Knowing him, he shouldn¡¯t be in any significant danger right now,she thought, remembering the calm and thoughtful patience that usually lingered around the air of her orange-haired friend. Roland had most likely brought rations, too, she figured, turning her back on the water. Her stomach groaned in protest. She sighed and sat down on the edge of the river. Being inside of an air pocket, the river below was naturally quite deep. She dipped her foot down into it, but the riverbed was far from sight. Seeing that simply standing there would accomplish nothing, Lynn channeled her magic through the water. Once again, her mana reached down like ancient, gnarled roots. Stable. Efficient. They branched out, and the branches continued to branch out even further. Soon, an invisible spherical area within the steadily flowing river was within her influence; her territory. Small particles, pebbles, and debris slowly flowed past her roots. She felt the presence of them all, and like her magic, stood patient like a peaceful oak. The water swept past. Flowed. Ran. Until¡­ Lynn¡¯s eyes snapped open. The water below her stirred for the fraction of a second, the surface rippling violently for an instant before settling back down into its steady flow. Lynn watched as a globe of ice the size of her torso rose up from the water. Within it, a strange, large fish that looked like a kite was frozen with an expression of panic in its face. She quickly washed a flat stone with the river water and laid it there, before proceeding to gut the fish with an experienced flourish. She¡¯d done this a lot back then, sitting by the frozen rivers and catching fish below the ice. It¡¯s a shame I don¡¯t have a fishing pole though,she idly thought. After she¡¯d set off from home to see what else the world had to offer, she¡¯d forgotten her fishing equipment back in the storage shack. She remembered this a few minutes after leaving the village, but felt that it would be too awkward to come back just to get it, so she¡¯d just grit her teeth and cursed herself as she reluctantly left it behind. She laughed, raking the hard scales off the fish¡¯s meat. No fish to catch in the Sandsea, and no pole to catch them with in whatever death pit they were in now. She was beginning to question her own luck, really. It seemed to have taken an especially steep drop lately. She shook her head with a light smile.No matter,she told herself.I¡¯ll just find the time to make a good one later,she finished, placing her hunting knife back in its sheath. Lynn fashioned a hook with her affinity to ice and hung the fish from a lower part of the ceiling. Nodding at her work, she had her magic once again take power from the elemental stones that were slotted into the bow on her back. One of the gems flickered with a reddish light, and moments later, a flame had flared to life just above her palm. Lynn held it close to the fish and adjusted the intensity of the flame. The fish¡¯s flesh sizzled against the flame. Juices dripped to the floor, and as the minutes ticked by, Lynn finally found herself in front of a nicely cooked fish. The elf pinched some of the meat off and threw it into her mouth. She pursed her lips. It was bland, but well, she guessed it was to be expected with the lack of seasoning she worked with. Still, the texture was nice, at least. As she stood there, Lynn heard someone moving about behind her. She looked back and found that Alen had finally woken up. He glanced at her, then at the fish, and grinned. ¡°Do I get any?¡± ¡°Only if you make the plates,¡± said Lynn. The necromancer nodded, and she watched in fascination as he fiddled with a screen in front of him. Moments later, the fabric of his sleeve abruptly grew, before the mass separated from the clothing her wore. Simple plates and two sets of cutlery clattered onto the floor. Alen nodded in satisfaction and walked off to wash the plates in the water. After they had their meal, the two sat around for a bit more and readied themselves for the coming trip. Lynn filled her quiver with arrows of ice, and Alen took out what pieces of teeth and shards he had left to summon undead. He assessed them one by one and improved their forms on AutoBone where he could. Finally, after a couple minutes of nervous thinking, the two stood up and looked down at the steadily flowing river below. Lynn waved her hand, and Alen felt the air around him gather and press at his face. ¡°You ready to go on an adventure?¡± she asked. ¡°Not really,¡± He joked, taking one end of the hook he had and fastening it around a belt he had made her. This way, they wouldn¡¯t get separated in the water, but would still have some form of room to maneuver around without getting tangled up. ¡°Alright, so let¡¯s go over it again,¡± she said, then continued. ¡°The bottom of the river is dark, so you won¡¯t be able to see much. I can always light it up by lighting a fire inside a bubble of air, but that¡¯ll drain my magic, so I¡¯ll only be using it when I really need to. You follow me, and I¡¯ll try not to get us lost. That sound like a good plan?¡± ¡°I think we¡¯re kind of fucked, to be honest.¡± ¡°Yep,¡± she grinned, then pulled on the keratin link attached to the hook. ¡°Let¡¯s go!¡± ¡°Wai¡ª¡° Alen barely finished, before Lynn pulled him down into the river below with a resounding splash. She immediately scanned the bottom for any threats.None,she noted, before manipulating the water behind her to propel them forward. She held the link and more or less dragged Alen behind her. His voice rang out in her mind through the party¡¯s voice comms. I feel like I¡¯m being dragged around on a leash,he complained. Lynn smiled and sped up, pulling on the leash. He shook his head, then simply sighed and let himself be pulled forward. The next few minutes passed in relative silence. She glanced back and spotted him nervously looking around the darkness surrounding them. She wasn¡¯t surprised. Evenshecould barely see anything, and the feeling that they were being watched kept creeping up the back of her neck. She pulled out her bow and plucked an arrow out from her quiver, slowing their pace through the water. Shouldn¡¯t we speed up or make a light or something? I don¡¯t like how creepy this place is being,Alen messaged her. No,she responded.I think we entered something¡¯s territory. Fuck. Can¡¯t we run, then? It might not notice us if we reduce our presence. If we lit a light, we¡¯d be¡­she paused. Lynn? Do¡­ do you see that?She pulled him closer with the link, tapping his shoulder and pointing his head forwards.Do you know what that is? I think it¡¯s a plant,she said, looking at something in the distance. It was an orb of light, lightly floating in the darkness. From the light it gave off, it was attached to something, and seemed to be dangling about from some sort of stalk. She noticed that it was getting closer. Oh no,Alen gasped.Oh fuck no. Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck. We need to fucking go. I¡¯m not dealing with thisFinding Nemobullshit. Lynn licked her dry lips. The air around their heads was enabling them to breathe, but something about that light made her feel like breathing was suddenly harder. She began to pull them back, and whatever was following them stopped in place. Then the orb of light disappeared. Complete darkness. For the first time, Lynn couldn¡¯t see past the darkness ahead. Her skin prickled. She glanced at Alen, his features barely visible in her eyesight. He looked terrified. Lynn,he slowly said. ¡­Yes?She asked, feeling the water flow past her clothes as their retreat began to speed up. A light flickered to life. The orb had reappeared, and Lynn frowned. Why was there two of them now? The lights disappeared again. Lynn,Alen whispered through the chat, grasping at her arm. He floated beside her, holding something tight in his grip. He looked pale. She swallowed, nocking an arrow. The water began to whizz past them as they gained speed. The fluorescent orbs came back. Three of them. Then five. Eight. Their backs lit up. They turned. The orb surged to life, and so did the creature it belonged to. Lynn locked gazes with the mass of needle-like teeth and wrinkled, cracked skin in horror as the patterns on its scaly skin began to glow with a bright bluish light. Its mouth was open, the maw that could swallow a tree ready to taste blood. There¡¯s nine of them,she felt herself falter. Lynn!Alen screamed in her mind. She cursed and rapidly turned to flee. The necromancer threw the thing he was holding into the creature¡¯s mouth. It chomped down. The keratin Alen had thrown rapidly ballooned, and on its surface, a deep, dark ice began to form. The water bubbled as if being boiled upon contact with the Deathchill. The creature¡¯s maw slammed into it, and the teeth punctured deep into the keratin for an instant, before a massive roar of pain filled the entire cavern. Pikes exploded out from Alen¡¯s boots and slammed the sphere in deeper, while simultaneously pushing them away. Lynn was dragged back just in time to avoid another set of jaws that had come clamping down on her previous position. She shot an arrow of ice at the creature, and it phased through the water perfectly, before exploding on impact and branding a root-like pattern of ice on the monster¡¯s skin and locking it in place. The rest of the creatures began to race towards them. Lynn pushed her magic to the limit and brought them back the way they came. One set of jaws opened up to bite her leg off, and an arrow shot into its eye before it could. In the corner of her vision, she spotted a centipede burst into existence from a shard of keratin, wrapping itself violently against one of the gigantic fish. The fish screeched in pain and obliterated it by slamming itself against a wall, but not before the Deathchill that lathered the centipede¡¯s body could inflict its terrible, necrotic effects. They sped forward. The creatures gave chase. Light opened up ahead of them. Lynn looked back. This was the way we came, but why is it opening up!?She then noticed the water around them. It had changed directions, flowing into the direction they were fleeing in.No,she realized. It was dragging themwithit. The river was rapidly draining into awaterfall. ¡°Not another goddamned fall!¡± Alen screamed into his bubble of air, slamming one of the fish against the wall beside him with a well-timed Bone Spear. ¡°Get ready!¡± she shouted at him, bracing herself for the coming drop. ¡°I already am!¡± Alen shouted back, then stamped his feet into the riverbed and turning, sending them shooting towards the drop until finally¡­ Boom!The water exploded out in all directions. They shot past the waterfall, and Lynn felt the bubble of air peel away from her face to be replaced by the stupidly familiar feeling of the air brushing past her cheeks as she fell. One of the fish fell in with them, and it dropped down, mouth open to eat its final meal. Alen cursed and pulled her in with the link and grabbed her hand before roaring against the fall. ¡°Yeah, not this time, fucker!¡± He shouted, before a large flap of cloth exploded out of the back of his robes. The carefully crafted parachute caught the air and their descent rapidly slowed to a crawl. The fish zipped past them, missing them with inches to spare, before falling past the trees and hitting the ground with a loudsplaton the stony earth below. Alen grinned down at Lynn. ¡°I¡¯m so fucking good it¡¯s insane,¡± he said. ¡°Yeah, yeah,¡± she laughed, then watched as the ground lazily moved closer to greet them. Alen¡¯s parachute disintegrated to dust in the wind before it was caught by the gray branches of the stone-like trees and their glowing fluorescent leaves. They landed on the ground with a slight tap, and Lynn let out a sigh of relief. ¡°Does your magic even have any limits?¡± she asked him. ¡°I¡¯m like an edgierGreen Lantern,¡± he proudly stated. Who names themselves after a colored lantern?Lynn was about to ask, but suddenly froze as the cold feeling of a blade pressed itself against her back. She looked at Alen and saw the figure that stood behind him too. A blade was pressed to his neck. He gave her a look. Should we fight? She shook her head.No.These men would kill them as soon as they displayed signs of resistance. She felt it from the blade pressed to her skin. The man behind her was ready to kill. ¡°Okay. Listen here, whoever you are,¡± Alen slowly said, ¡°we¡¯re just passing through. Let us go, then we¡¯ll find the nearest hole to fall into, and you¡¯ll never see us again.¡± The man spoke a language she didn¡¯t understand and pressed the dagger harder against his skin. A line of blood formed on its tip. She frowned. Most people spoke the Common tongue when talking to strangers, but she knew the sound of many languages. She failed to recognize any of the words that left his mouth. She saw Alen with a calm, cold look on his face. She scrunched her brows. It was that look again. The same one he¡¯d given Gravil when they¡¯d fought. She slowly inched her hand down, channeling her magic into the ground. The roots of the stony trees around them responded, ready to erupt out of the ground and strike as soon as Alen made his move.Is there really no other way?She bit her lip. This was going to be tough. ¡°You two found more of themagain? You should really ring the signal before you try and¡­¡± Footsteps rang out from their left, and a young human with black hair and icy, blue eyes stepped out from the cover of the trees, flanked by two more of the noseless, pale-skinned, big-eyed people. As soon as he looked at her, shock made its way into his face. Wait. No. He was lookingbesideher. She followed his eyes and saw Alen with the biggest grin she had ever seen on his face. ¡°Alen?¡±The icy-eyed young man doubtfully said. He incredulously signaled with his hand, and the two men behind them reluctantly lowered their weapons. The necromancer raised his hand in greeting. His eyes were red. ¡°Yo Sam,¡± Alen told him, ¡°I got a shit ton of stories to tell." Book 3, Chapter 3: A Race Through the Woods Necromancer and Co., Book 3: The Underearth
Chapter 3: A Race Through the Woods
[Alen] The next few hours passed by in a flash to Alen. He¡¯d found them. They weren¡¯t complete, but his friend was right there, walking with him. He couldn¡¯t take the smile off his face. He didn¡¯t want to. From what he¡¯d heard, Adam was back at where they were headed too. Lynn spent the time trying to communicate with the strange, big-eyed people. They looked like those aliens from a typical alien commercial, but horrifyingly more buff. Alen glanced at her, then looked back at his friend beside him. Sam was relatively glad to see him, but the occasional grim look on his face suggested that there was something Alen still didn¡¯t know about. Something bad. As they trekked through the trees and ducked under stone-like branches, Alen shot Sam a look. ¡°So you told me how you two got here, but what¡¯s up with the guys who look like they live in a UFO?¡± ¡°They can understand you, you know,¡± Sam pointed out, and Alen saw one of the alien-looking guys glaring at him. He waved. ¡°So? What¡¯s so bad about living in a UFO? I¡¯d be down,¡± said Alen, grinning at the alien-guy who grunted and looked away. Sam sighed. ¡°I told them the same thing when I met them for the first time. Bad thing is, I mentioned that aliens abducted cows. They didn¡¯t like that. Good thing Dieter was there to clarify.¡± ¡°Dieter?¡± Alen asked, raising a brow. ¡°Yeah, not surprised you don¡¯t know him. He¡¯s a pretty cool dude, man. He¡¯s a new arrival from our batch, but it looked like he ended up here in the Underearth on his first day.¡± ¡°The Underearth, huh. I always thought it was one of those myths because there really wasn¡¯t enough proof to back up the claims. Guess books can still be written by people who don¡¯t know much at all.¡± ¡°I had a book in my pack when I was brought here.¡± Alen¡¯s eyes shone. ¡°Where is it?¡± ¡°An orc tore it up as a show of dominance. Fuckin¡¯ asshole.¡± ¡°What a fucking dick. How¡¯d you kill him?¡± Sam paused, then gave him a confused look. ¡°What? Why would I?¡± He glanced weirdly at Alen, ¡°It¡¯s just a book, dude. The guy had a kid. I¡¯m not screwing that kid over just because his dad¡¯s a big-ass douche.¡± Alen blinked, looked at Sam¡¯s face, and frowned. He turned quiet.What the hell did he just say?He scratched his chin, then paused, before looking down at the hand scratching it. This was worrying. The sheereaseof which he said those words with¡ªhow casually he was able to mention killing someone over¡­ what? A book? But if he was Sam, would he have done it? If it was a book, probably not, but if anyone had eventriedto fuck with his phone, then he¡¯d¡­ ¡°Uh, are you okay?¡± Sam waved a hand in front of his face, then raised a brow. ¡°And nah, I didn¡¯t kill him. It was just a book I was reading as a joke. RememberRoyally Screwed?¡± Alen remembered the book. It was about some really horny dude with a dick for a brain and tried to fuck every girl in sight. Well, that was what he got from the first dozen paragraphs anyways. He was never much for romance books with half-naked dudes for book covers. Alen just couldn''t trust those ones. After he had his fill, he''d left Sam to cackle by himself afterwards. They¡¯d made fun of it when he¡¯d slept over at Adam¡¯s place months ago. Maybe Sam was even enjoying it. Who knew? The thought was funny, but Alen could only manage a slight smile. Would he have killed that orc? Seeing his silence, Sam quieted down. He called over one of the hunters and told him something about checking ahead. The man nodded and sprinted off. Alen clenched his fist, unclenched them again, then let loose a breath. He lightly slapped Sam¡¯s shoulder with the back of his hand. ¡°So uh, where exactly are we going?¡± Alen asked, looking around at the trees that truly did seem to be made out of solid rocks. The bioluminescent leaves and fruits were the only things that confirmed that these trees were even trees in the first place. ¡°Back to these guys¡¯ village. They call themselves the Analik. Kind of took me and Adam in when we accidentally stumbled into one of their hunting parties.¡± They moved past the trees and entered a tunnel of sorts. The warriors led the way, with Lynn idly talking to one of them while Alen and Sam followed closely behind. Sam nudged him with an elbow and pointed to the white-haired elf with a grin. ¡°So you¡¯re still single, right?¡± ¡°Fuck you.¡± Sam laughed. They stopped near a wall, and waited, before slowly, the wall began to shift, revealing another tunnel. They walked in, and Sam shot him a curious look. "You told us she was pretty cool, though. Right? You aren¡¯t going for it?¡± Alen felt himself quiet down as they walked. He hesitated, then slowly began to speak. ¡°I mean, she¡¯s cool as shit, but I wasn¡¯t really thinking about that before¡­¡± ¡°Whoawhoawhoa, wait up. Before?¡± Sam interrupted. ¡°Ah, fuck,¡± Alen sighed, glancing at the elf. ¡°I don¡¯t know any more man. She jumped in after me when I thought I was going to die alone and just¡­ hell. I guess she¡¯s pretty cute? Fuck it. I kinda do like her, yeah. More or less. I probably just realized it recently. Yeah,¡± he said, then he raised an indignant brow at Sam. ¡°Happy?¡± The tunnel in front of them opened up, and Sam grinned at him as he walked past and out the opening. ¡°Oooh boy,¡± he snickered. ¡°I don¡¯t really care, but I betsheis.¡± ¡°What?¡± Alen asked, then out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Lynn grinning embarrassedly at him. She scuttled past him and hurriedly followed Sam into the light outside. Alen was stood there alone, stock-still as a single thought ran circles around his head, laughing at him. Elves had good hearing, didn¡¯t they? They did. ¡°Motherfucker,¡± Alen hissed, then ran after them. ¡ªo¡ª The village wasn¡¯t very far from there. Just a couple more shifting, hidden tunnels and several climbs and caverns later, and they finally arrived at their final stop. Sam said that the village would just be beyond the next boulder field, and agreed when one of the hunters suggested a short rest. Alen paced around a good distance away from the camp. ¡°Fuck me,¡± he muttered, his arms crossed as he walked back and forth between two rocks. He internally cursed at Sam the entire time. The fucker was having the time of his life watching him deal with the situation. He¡¯d usually take things like this in stride, but every time he made eye contact with Lynn, she¡¯d be grinning at him and Alen couldfeelthe sheer amount of teasing he¡¯d be at the receiving end of. While he appreciated that she wasn¡¯t the awkward type, nowhewas the one who had no idea how to react. Screw it,Alen thought. He¡¯d just come back and pretend it never happened. They¡¯d forget about it eventually. He nodded to himself, glanced at the fire in the distance and walked back. He could handle getting made fun of. Yeah. He was good at that. He could do it. He neared the camp. Lynn saw him and walked over, smiling mischievously. ¡°Sothatwas why you complained about my cape, of all things. I like being complimented, you know. You should do that more.¡± Alen groaned, sulked down on a rock, and covered his face with his hands. He couldn¡¯t fucking do it. ¡°I hate Sam so much,¡± he muttered into his palms. He indignantly glanced up at her between two fingers. ¡°You have nice nostrils.¡± She laughed, and he sighed as she sat down beside him. ¡°I get it,¡± she nodded, serious. ¡°I¡¯m admirable. Outstanding. You shouldn¡¯t hide it. I like being praised, you like praising me, so I think we should work together in making me feel good about myself.¡± ¡°I think I like insulting you more, honestly.¡± ¡°Really? Maybe I should throw you off a cliff and jump after you again.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t even joke about that. I¡¯m surprised I haven¡¯t developed a phobia for heights after all of this garbage. I¡¯m done with falling. I have parachutes now.¡± ¡°Is that what you call them? I¡¯ve heard of Gnomes using those after jumping out of their flying machines, but I didn¡¯t know the Draenys Library had so much information in it. Not many humans write about Gnomes after all, with the racial tension and everything,¡± she shook her head disappointedly, as if the entire conflict was nothing but a children¡¯s fight. She probably wasn¡¯t far from the truth, Alen guessed, then shook his head. ¡°Not sure what Gnomes called them, but we had some over in Earth¡ªmy home world,¡± Alen offhandedly mentioned. He pursed his lips and felt that his mood would sour if he talked about home any further, so he stood up. He pointed at the camp ahead. ¡°Let¡¯s go ahead and join them.¡± ¡°Sure,¡± she nodded, offering her hand to him. Alen blinked and gave her a look. She raised a brow at him and he shrugged, taking her hand and pulling her up. She grinned and started walking towards the camp. She looked back. ¡°It¡¯s been quite the adventure so far, if I do say so myself,¡± She said, looking up at the glowing crystals that lined the cavern roof like twinkling stars. ¡°Let¡¯s keep it going, okay?¡± She flashed him a smile, then turned and started walking towards the camp. Alen gave her back a long look, then let loose a breath and walked after her, staring up at the crystals above. He smiled. He got the adventure he always wanted, and in some ways, it was shaping up to be more than he ever thought it would be. ¡ªo¡ª ¡°¡­so after I left the orc tribe behind, I met up with Adam in Malavarr City and after we dicked around for a while, we kinda just decided to take a commission together, y¡¯know? Some bonding exercises. Killing stuff and all that family friendly crap,¡± said Sam, a helpless look coming over his face. ¡°Then one thing led to another, and after an argument about levers and a dead undead cyclops, we got bamboozled and found ourselves here. Hm.¡± ¡°How the hell did that go from that tothisso smoothly?¡± Alen asked, motioning at the sea of stony trees that expanded out past the cliff¡¯s drop. ¡°It wasn¡¯t smoothat all,¡± Sam complained. ¡°Teleportation portals man. Who does that shit? If Dieter and these guys hadn¡¯t found us, we would¡¯ve died in the tunnels.¡± ¡°These tunnels,¡± Lynn nodded to the wall behind them, where a gap was slowly, but surely closing. ¡°They change, don¡¯t they?¡± Sam nodded grimly. ¡°Yea, they do. The crystals in the ceiling act like the sky, and every day here lasts for about forty hours, and the tunnels shift and move to new positions in a set pattern. When night hits,¡± Sam pointed at the mostly dark ceiling, with only a few glittering crystals lighting up the seemingly endless void, and spoke, ¡°the crystals change to that. It¡¯s a lot brighter in the day, thankfully, but they still have to send out patrols in the night. One of the Xargith managed to find the village a few days ago, and if he¡¯d gotten away, we would¡¯ve had to move locations again.¡± ¡°Xargith?¡± asked Alen. ¡°Some really scary dudes with black skin and horns and all that crap. I hate those guys. I heard they were real dicks. No one in the village really talked about them,¡± Sam pointed to one of the hunters, who looked away, and sighed, ¡°so I talked to Dieter and found out why, and well, I understood.¡± Alen locked eyes with Lynn, and both of them remembered the three they¡¯d encountered and their¡­ camp. Alen felt sick to the stomach just remembering the small torso sizzling above the open flames. ¡°We encountered three of them,¡± Lynn said, darkly. Sam frowned. ¡°Where?¡± ¡°Not too far from where you found us,¡± Alen said. ¡°We barely got away.¡± One of the hunters stepped forward, and for the first time, Alen heard one of them speak. ¡°That was a scouting party. They shouldn¡¯t be here,¡± the man said, accent thick and noticeable through the strange version of Common it spoke. To Alen, it was like listening to a dialect. Strange¡ªforeign, but weirdly understandable. They stopped walking, and another one of the men leaned in, covered in a strangely decorated hide armor like the rest of them, but with a hood over his head. His black eyes shone under the hood. ¡°What do we do?¡± He asked, voice raspy. ¡°We must hurry,¡± the first one said, voice a heavy baritone. ¡°You are fast, Kirrtik. Run ahead and tell the Father. We must evacute by tomorrow, or else we run the risk of them discovering us again.¡± The hooded one nodded and took off without a word, disappearing into the trees as a blur and a resounding rustle. ¡°Sam,¡± the man glanced back at him, ¡°try to keep up. We are going first.¡± Sam groaned and looked at Alen and Lynn as the three other hunters got ready to move faster. ¡°You guys move quick?¡± ¡°As quick as my right hand,¡± Alen said. ¡°I¡¯m fast,¡± Lynn grinned. Sam spared them both a glance, before his already blue eyes began to shine with an even brighter light. ¡°Okay. So I know this area well enough not to get lost, and you guys shouldn¡¯t betooslow, right? Let¡¯s race back to the village after them.¡± Lynn clapped her hands together. ¡°Sounds fun,¡± she nodded. ¡°Count me in.¡±Stolen novel; please report. ¡°I¡¯m down,¡± Alen simply said, then channeled his magic to his boots. It was his first time navigating in a forest. It wouldn¡¯t betoohard, right? He just had to¡ª ¡°Move!¡± The baritone-voiced man looked back at them, and in a flash, he was off, sprinting into the woods at a speed even faster than Alen thought possible from his large frame. Sam took off without a moment¡¯s notice, gliding forward quickly as ice formed under his feet. Lynn jumped right after, jumping from tree to tree with motions so practiced that Alen couldn¡¯t doubt her ancestry as an elf. He was already falling behind. Alen grit his teeth and caused his mana to surge into his boots.Bang!The keratin pikes exploded out, sending him blurring forward. The trees shot past his vision like speeding cars, and one rapidly approached him like a speeding train. Fuck!He hurriedly braced his arms in front of him, keratin shielding his arms and legs before¡ªBoom!He crashed through the tree, the hard, stone-like surface numbing his limbs beneath the protective keratin coating. He staggered forward, and Sam shouted something back at him. Alen gritted his teeth and shot forward again. He needed to find a way to maneuver past the trees. He couldn¡¯t fall behind so easily. A tree rapidly approached and Alen held his hands out, a keratin hook exploding out of his sleeve. He angled his body and¡ªBoom!He was sent spinning to the side, the hook tearing out a portion of the stone tree. Alen tumbled to the ground and rolled back into a sprint, before shooting himself forward again. Lynn and Sam were just ahead of him, the latter gliding through the trees as the former flipped and floated above the branches with a trained grace. Too sharp,he frantically thought, twisting out of the way of an incoming tree. He grit his teeth and stared in front of him. It was dark. Everything was barely visible thanks to the light from above. Alen hurriedly opened AutoBone and flattened the edges of the hook he¡¯d made. He closed it. He blurred towards another tree. ¡°Fuck!¡± He shouted, smashing through it with another bang that reverberated through his bones. ¡°Can¡¯t we slow down!? We might leave him too far behind, and he has a horrible habit of almost getting himself killed!¡± Lynn called out to Sam, pointing back at Alen who struggled to keep up. ¡°Nah,¡± Sam said. ¡°This part of the Underearth is safe! Worst case scenario, he gets lost and we find him ten minutes later!¡± Alen listened and grit his teeth, summoning the hook once again. Ahead, Sam glanced back at him and nodded before taking a turn. Lynn reluctantly followed after Alen gave her a reassuring nod. He ground his teeth together. This was it. The turn was coming up. If he didn¡¯t turn, he¡¯d smash into a cliffside wall. He wouldn¡¯t die, but he¡¯d be damned if it didn¡¯t fuckingsting.Alen zeroed in on an approaching tree and readied the hook. His Intelligence stat was high enough for something this. He just needed to focus. Focus. The tree zipped closer. Closer. Closer and closer and¡ª Now!He twisted. The hook latched onto the stony bark. He swung his legs in a wide arc. He turned. He tucked his legs under him and spun, unsummoned the hook, and then slammed his feet into the ground! He shot forward with a resounding bang. ¡°Yes, yes, yes! Fuck yes!¡± Alen cheered, his forward momentum throwing him forward like a bullet. Lynn¡¯s back slowly approached¡ªgot closer. They turned again. He followed. Focusing was getting easier now. He had the stats, and now, he was using them the way he should¡¯ve been all along. He shot forward diagonally, rising above the branches. He tucked his legs under himself again, then jammed them into a branch.Bone Spear.The branch shattered into a million pieces as the force of his spell sent him shooting forward even faster than before! Air rushed past him in a frenzy, sending his hair and clothing into disarray.One, two three,he counted, watching the branches approach. He missed one and clicked his tongue.Again,he thought.One, two¡­ three!He his foot found purchase on the next branch. He blurred forward with another Bone Spear. Lynn glanced back at him in shock as he caught up. ¡°You¡¯re copying me!¡± She exclaimed, shooting forward from another branch. ¡°I learn from the best,¡± He replied, grunting as he roughly smashed through a stray branch in the process. ¡°I can go faster without getting myself killed, I think. Let¡¯s go and leave that fucker Sam behind, yeah?¡± ¡°Alright. There¡¯s no way I¡¯m letting myself get there last!¡± She nodded, grinning. ¡°When I say go,¡± Lynn said, then watched as Alen fell behind, then caught up with another burst of speed, ¡°At go, you grab my ankle and pull me behind you. Ignore the trees. Just go straight and leave the rest to me!¡± Alen nodded, then, as he caught up for the third time, Lynn shouted. ¡°Go!¡± Bang!His boots felled an entire tree as a torrent of mana erupted into the form of a Bone Spear. He grabbed Lynn¡¯s leg. She shot forward with him. A tree rapidly approached, but before Alen could even worry, an arrow of ice stronger than any he had ever seen tore it apart. Frost drifted off of Lynn¡¯s new bow, and she drew another arrow, felling another tree a long distance away. Alen grinned. With this, he could go all out. His mana exploded with the force of a tsunami, and this time, the top half of an entire tree shattered with his stomp, revealing the soft, wooden core within. Continuous bangs rang out as tree after tree was obliterated in their wake. They caught up to Sam. He looked up at them incredulously. ¡°That¡¯s sobroken!¡±He complained, gliding between two trees with sweat dripping from his brow as he panted. Alen was breathing heavily too. The concentration was extremely taxing on his head, but he spared the effort to grin at his friend. ¡°I know,¡± he gloated, before slamming his feet into the trunk of a tree and shooting forward again. Sam saw this and thought for a moment, before he smiled and channeled his magic to cause three orbs of ice to form and rise up behind him, following him closely. They rapidly morphed into three blades of ice. Sam pillar of ice beneath Sam¡¯s feet shot him forward. He cut straight through a tree with the help of the blades and caught up. ¡°Bam!¡± He said, hurtling beside Alen and Lynn. ¡°I can do that too!¡± The elf grinned at him and looked back at Alen. ¡°Sorry Alen, but it looks like it¡¯ll be more fun with the three of us racing instead. I can¡¯t let myself fall behind, can I?¡± She twisted and got her foot out of the necromancer¡¯s grip. Alen watched her fall, her bow shooting at a tree in front of him. He and Sam slowed down for a second, shocked, and Alen was about to call out after her when a blur of black leather and white hair shot past him. It was Lynn, her hair flowing past her shoulders as she overtook both of them. Lines of blue magic followed after her, latching and sinking into the trees as she passed. We¡¯re those¡­ roots? The forest came to life around her. Branches swayed. Leaves rustled. She slowed down, and a tree literallytwisted,catching her with its branches before throwing her forward like a catapult. She mischievously smiled back at them. ¡°I¡¯ve been practicing,¡± she helplessly said, ¡°but that does pretty little when there are no trees in the Sandsea, huh?¡± ¡°How thefuckdoes your magic systemwork!?¡±Alen asked, baffled. He tore through the air after her, Sam trailing just ahead of him. A tree came up, and he barely twisted out of the way. Sam sliced apart trunks and branches and brambles, while they gave way for Lynn as if welcoming their matriarch. Alen grit his teeth. If these guys can destroy the forest to move faster, I will too!His magic surged, and a feeling welled up in his body, calling out to him. Black and white light flickered behind Alen¡¯s emerald eyes. The globe of death mana inside of his body flared to life, and almost instinctively, Alen readied a Rotfire Blast, pointed his hand at an incoming tree, andpulled. His vision blacked for an instant, and when it returned, his feet had no branches to catapult off from. He slammed into the ground. Alen rolled and lurched to a stop, flat on his back. He groaned and sat up, a strange throbbing in the back of his eyes. He blinked, and the previously lush forest of stony trunks and glowing leaves was no longer present. No. It was. In the distance, a few meters in front of him, the forest continued on. He frowned. A clearing? Impossible,he shook his head. He was clearly maneuvering through a forest just seconds ago, and even though his vision was relatively bad, it was still a lot better than an ordinary person at the first threshold. There was no clearing ahead. He was sure of it. Then¡­he looked down at his hands, felt the magic within them. Frowning, he pulled up his status screen.
Status:
Name: Alen Race: Human Type: Necrotic
Current Threshold: 14
Health: 98% Stamina: 89% Mana: 71%
Strength: 26 Dexterity: 27 Agility: 23
Constitution: 32 Vitality: 27 Resistance: 24
Intelligence: 62 (+) Wisdom: 83 (+++) Control: 69 (++)
Skills:
Mana Programming, Dominate Undead, Deathbolt, Necrotic Blessing, Numb Senses, Numbing Mist, Summon Greater Skeletal Minion, Rotfire Blast, Deathchill Grip, Deathchill Nova, Bone Spear, Skeletal Rupture, Vitality Drain, Drainblast, Blightwater Surge
System Applications:
AutoBone, System Notepad
His brows furrowed together. His mana waswaytoo low for what he was doing. While his Bone Spears were effectively powerful when he used them to move, he hadn¡¯t magically enhanced them to become more durable. Heknewhis mana pool. It should¡¯ve been depleted to ninety percent at the absolutemost.So that meant¡­ Rotfire Blast? He shook his head. He wasn¡¯t min/maxing a magic build for nothing. Rotfire Blast shouldn¡¯t have put such a large dent on his capacity. And this forest... Rotfire Blast wasn¡¯t that powerful. Even if it was, it left remains. Dust. Ash. A trace of what he destroyed. In front of him was a flat plain. An entire area completely devoid of life, or any evidence that life even existed in the first place. Empty. It was completely empty aside from the earth and stone below. Crackle.His eyes flashed down to his hands, where a flicker of what looked like black and white lightning fizzled out between his fingertips. He licked his lips. So that was it. Only one of his affinities had that color, and only one was mysterious enough to surprise him with what it could do.Death Affinity,Alen shuddered. He looked around, and for a moment, a feeling of intense panic registered in his chest, but quickly faded away as he realized that when he¡¯d cast Rotfire Blast, Sam and Lynn were much farther than the edge of his spell¡¯s blast radius. It had carved a pretty clear boundary, after all. Seeing that they probably weren¡¯t coming back for him, Alen sighed. ¡°No way I¡¯m catching up to them now,¡± he muttered. He¡¯d already lost the race at this point. Lynn was surprisingly fast in the forest, and Sam¡¯s maneuverability was shown to its full potential in the terrain. He would probably be faster in an open plain, but for now, he would concede to his loss. Alen plunked down to the ground and observed the magic inside of his body. He reached out to his Death Affinity and felt it. Empty, endless, and hungry. That was how it felt. A void waiting to be filled. Slowly, he summoned a simple flame. It flared up above his index finger, calmly swaying in the wind like a candle in a soft breeze. He sucked in a breath, and slowly, carefully, he took a strand of the pure magic in his body, then mixed it with the magical affinity he had for death. His eyes widened as the strand struggled, on the edge of sputtering out. He quickly poured more magic into it, watching as the strand finally stabilized. The magic making it up quickly turned black and white. Alen licked his lips and slowly had that strand flow through his body, before carefully having it sink into the small flame above his hand. Fwoom.The flame changed. The yellows and oranges turned blacker than the night, and the reds and blues of its radiance turned into a piercing white. The small flame no longer swayed, as if the wind was nonexistent around it. Alen probed at it with his magic.No,he looked at it in curiosity. The airwasnonexistent around it. Somehow, it would simply disappear where the flame was, as if sucked into the endless vacuum of space. Interesting. ¡°Death, huh,¡± Alen muttered, looking at the flame with a small bit of fear. It looked like his new affinity wasn¡¯t about simply rotting things away. It wasn¡¯t biological death, no. That was different. This magic wastrue death. It erased things from existence. He shuddered. What would happen if he used this on a person? Simple,a voice rang out in his head. He nearly jumped. Selerius continued.It looks like you aren¡¯t stupid after all. Yes. This is death. True death. If you used this on a person, their soul would be snuffed out. Completely and utterly erased. Death in body, and in soul. True power. Alen frowned. ¡°I made my magic so that I wouldn¡¯t have to do things like this. I don¡¯t have the right to snuff out a person¡¯s soul. Nobody does.¡± Selerius sighed audibly.Souls are merely strands of magic. Their strands grow as they age by the lifetimes, and they weave and gather and tangle together as life is born. It took me years of practice as a necromancer to evenbeginto manipulate it. Thagathos¡¯s blessing is more significant than you think. Spare me your moral justifications. It is simply power. How you use it is how it will be taken¡ªwhether it be vile, or a force of good.The lich laughed in his mind.Granted, it will be hard to be seen as good when a wave of your hand could completely wipe a village from the map. I¡¯ve tried. ¡°You¡¯re awfully talkative today,¡± Alen raised a brow at the lich in his head. Selerius harrumphed in response.Be glad that I¡¯ve given you advice. It¡¯s not every day that a novice like you hears from a master like myself. Now, do not let my efforts go to waste. Stand up, and do not die. You have company. Alen¡¯s eyes constricted. He twisted, and Bone Spears shot out from his feet and flung him backward. A sigh rang out from the woods, and a large man with unnaturally black skin and red eyes stepped out from the trees. ¡°And here I thought you¡¯d be easy to pick off,¡± the man said. ¡°Oh no,¡± Alen glanced behind him and noticed the worrying lack of reinforcements. ¡°I¡¯m fucked, aren¡¯t I?¡± ¡°I believe so,¡± the man smiled, then readied the spear strapped to his back. Alen threw shards of bone and keratin to the ground and clenched his fists. This had better not end with him falling again. Book 3, Chapter 4: Again Necromancer and Co., Book 3: The Underearth
Chapter 4: Again "And so, the Dark One visited the dreams of the chosen in their sleep, giving them visions of salvation--of life above the world beneath the world. Soon, he promised them, soon, we shall make our ascent."
[Alen] ¡°What is it with you people and murder?¡± asked Alen, slowly backing away from the large, obsidian-skinned man. Around him, undead bubbled to life from the small fragments of bone and keratin he¡¯d tossed around. Five hyenas, four beetles, and one centipede. The last of his undead from the Crawling Canyon. He left only one summon in his robes; another beetle for flight. The man gave him a slovenly grin, but within his dark, crimson eyes, Alen saw the same madness he¡¯d seen in the man¡¯s brethren present. ¡°Our King demands it,¡± the man spread his arms out, the spear shaft carving a curve in front of him. ¡°When he returns, you will see why our people are so devoted to him. Why don¡¯t you join us, keeper of the dead? We are but a collection of races devoted to a common cause. The King will be delighted to have you and your creations among us.¡± ¡°Oh yeah?¡± Alen felt the sweat on his back. These people were dangerous, and the calm demeanor this man showed only served to worry him more. ¡°Is there a ¡®no¡¯ option?¡± ¡°Only if you can stop me from forcing you to say yes,¡± the man smiled, taking a step forward, ¡°it is compliance, or death,¡± he licked his lips. ¡°My brethren are already on their way, and you¡¯ll find that they are far less kind compared to I. Choose, necromancer, or face death.¡± ¡°Ah,¡± Alen glanced at his summons. Magic roiled into his boots like roaring waves. The threads connecting him to his summons hummed with his command. He looked up at the man, defiance roaring in his eyes. ¡°After serious consideration, I¡¯ve decided,¡± Alen nodded then pointed his hand at the Xargith. ¡°I choose ¡®go fuck yourself¡¯!¡± His undead surged forward. The man smiled a smile that reached his ears. Bone spears shot out of Alen¡¯s boots. He shot towards a beetle and landed. They took off and flew past the treetops. The Xargith man stabbed a hyena through the head. He twisted and obliterated the spine of another, then caved in a beetle¡¯s head with a single punch. He looked up at Alen with a bone-chilling glow to his blood-red eyes. ¡°Wrong choice,¡± he hefted his spear, took aim, and threw. No.Catapulted.The spear ripped through the air, burrowing a hole through the looming skeletal centipede¡¯s chest and flying straight for Alen. Alen cursed and had the beetle twist mid-air. The spear still raked through its torso and destroyed a wing in the process. They began to plummet to the ground. He was falling. Again. The necromancer¡¯s eyes turned bloodshot at the realization. ¡°Not a-fucking-gain!!¡±He bellowed, his form disappearing below the sea of leaves. ¡ªo¡ª A lone man stood alone among the wrecked remains of bone and chitin. He swung his spear, and it shattered the head of a hyena. A woman covered in horns and barbs watched him from behind a collection of bushes and brambles. She loosed a breath and slowly stepped forward into the clearing. She kneeled to him, her head lowered. More people of varying races stepped out of the trees behind her, their forms strange and foreign to the smooth-skinned creatures that lurked above the earth. They kneeled. ¡°The village is here,¡± the man said. ¡°I assume the long-ear is still marked?¡± The woman leered venomously. ¡°Our weapons hum with her blood. The other one should have been marked as well, but he has disappeared from our senses.¡± ¡°Send your men ahead and inform the others. Don¡¯t bother surrounding the village. That old cavespawn Drizza already knows that we are here,¡± he said, almost lazily. ¡°She is capable of such, lord Seith?¡± ¡°Their tribe wouldn¡¯t be one of those that have evaded us for so long if she wasn¡¯t,¡± Seith glowered at the distance. ¡°Order the attack and send your men ahead. The more time they have to prepare, the larger the risk that their priestess will get away again.¡± ¡°Yes, lord,¡± the woman nodded at her men, and they rushed forward, giving Seith a wide berth. She turned to follow, but stopped as Seith¡¯s voice called out to her. ¡°Grizelda, you are to remain here. I have a different task for you.¡± ¡°Lord?¡± He gave her a scrutinizing look. ¡°You are a necromancer, yes?¡± Grizelda nodded. He continued, satisfied. ¡°Good, good. A mouse recently escaped from my grasp, you see. A mouse with averypeculiar aura¡ªone that closely resembles the feeling our King¡¯s altar gives off. You are to find and capture his soul for anything of interest. He is also a necromancer, so it should be easy for you, yes?¡± She grinned. It had been long since a person who practiced the same magic as her appeared.Another insect to crush and devour, she gleefully thought. Grizelda gazed at the terrifying man they called Seith. ¡°It shall be done, lord.¡± ¡°Excellent,¡± the man grinned, then brandished his spear, the bone-like vertebrae and crimson metal that held it together glinting cruelly in the light. He gazed in the direction of the village, where smoke languidly billowed up toward the cavern ceiling. ¡°Succeed on your task, and I¡¯ll see that you are rewarded by Han. Now, go. I have an old friend to greet.¡± With that, he walked off into the trees, his movements calm¡ªalmost leisurely. Grizelda knew better than to believe so. After she was sure he was gone, she relaxed. Every time he was near, the fear she felt caused even her skin to prickle. The Aessathi woman rubbed her palms together and waved her hand at the bones all around her. They hummed as strands of magic were slowly drained out of them, gathering into a small orb of magic in her hands. She licked her lips, then slowly inhaled. The magic followed. Slowly, the entire orb was fully siphoned into her mouth. Grizelda let loose a breath, a smirk rising into her lips. ¡°Mere soul fragments to control skeletons? I don¡¯t see what has that monster Seith all interested. This one is a mere novice,¡± she snorted, then gazed into the forest. There, past the trees and the rocks and the bushes, she saw the small outline of a young man whose race she couldn¡¯t identify. He raced through the woods at a speed that surprised her, the outline traced by his mana seeming to jump and sprint forward faster than even the warriors under her command. She frowned, then began to run in her target¡¯s direction. ¡°A necromancer that cultivates the body, perhaps?¡± The bone shards on the ground behind her trembled, then shot after her. They gathered around her, before coming together in her hand, creating a long blade of jagged bone-matter. It hummed with her magic, glowing with the virulent radiance of death and blood. Grizelda dragged the blade across the underside of her arm, where the horns and barbs didn¡¯t reach her skin. Blood spilled into her arm, and she shuddered, suppressing a groan of pleasure. Immediately afterward, her speed suddenly took a large increase as the blood flowed down her body and gathered on her legs, branding a magical sigil into her calves. She shot forward. Her target had slowed, seemingly lost in the woods. A savage grin spread across her face. She sped closer. ¡°Come now, little lamb,¡± Grizelda lowly laughed. Her target was a mere twenty meters away, a distance she could cover with ease. The instants ticked. She saw his form, still. Black hair. Green eyes. Smooth, smooth skin. The hand holding her blade trembled in excitement. She stomped and sprang forward. He turned, shock lathering his face. She swung her sword. ¡°Let the blade feast on your blood!¡± Her weapon blurred, and the instant before it cut into the fabric of his robes, his clothesmoved. Bang!A spike exploded out from his sleeve, deflecting her sword to the side. He faced her. Another spear shot out from his chest, and she ducked under it. The ground beneath her target cracked. He had shot backward with a pike from the soles of his feet. Interesting,Grizelda swung her blade. Fragments of bone came off, the bullets of bone-matter flying towards him in flashes of white. Her opponent shot into the air and aimed his palm at her. A plume of black-green flames rich with the aura of rot billowed down, threatening to engulf her. She dodged out of the way, the sigils on her calves flaring. The ground was charred black. The wound on her arm caused blood to splatter onto the stony trees. They withered. She looked up at him as he fell, landing on the ground with a thump and gazing at her with cold, heavy eyes that screamed violence.This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. Grizelda waved her arm, and blood scattered, flying towards him. He dodged to the side. The blood curved, stalking after him. She didn¡¯t wait for them to hit. She bounded forward and flanked him. The blade in her hand flashed, stabbing toward his side. It¡¯s ove¡ªher eyes constricted as a nova of ice and necrosis exploded out from the young man, destroying her blood and blowing a gout of decay into her face. Her skin sizzled, and the horns protecting her body crackled in the frost. A claw exploded out from her target¡¯s sleeve, covered in a terrifying black ice. It tore into her shoulder. The surrounding area began to decay. Intense, euphoric pain flooded her senses. Blood spilled¡ªgathered in her arms, forming another sigil. She swung her blade. The claw shattered. A violent wind exploded out, hurling her blood out with it. Some landed on the young man. His clothes hissed and sizzled. Grizelda breathed heavily, panting as she stared straight into her foe¡¯s eyes with a manic grin. He rapidly backed off and shot into the woods once again, faster than before. Her lips curled, and she gave chase. Tress blurred all around her. The young man took a sharp turn, a hook from his sleeve swinging him around the circumference of a tree. She chased, springing from a tree trunk. Her blade flashed and cut into her arm once again. Blood violently exploded from the wound. They flashed forward like raindrops, slamming into the trees and tailing her target, leaving decayed and broken trees in her wake. He blocked them. A fragment of chitin shot toward her. It exploded, marking bloody cuts all over her body. Her sigils glowed brighter, spreading like ever-growing scars. The one on her arm flowed up to her face. She began to laugh giddily. ¡°Yes!Yes!This isit!¡± She threw the blade in her hand. It cut deep into the young man¡¯s shoulder, but he merely flinched, as if the pain suddenly disappeared as soon as it registered. She snapped off a horn from her shoulder and raked it across her chest, blood flowing down her mouth as she chased after him like a rabid beast. Her blood formed a thousand needles of crimson. They tore through the trees and his clothing, wounding him. She laughed and waved her hand, causing blood to brutally spurt out from the tiny cuts and wounds all over his body. Still, he refused to scream for her. Not even a wince. Grizelda let loose a growl that ripped through her throat.Why wasn¡¯t this boy giving her ears the pleasure of hearing his screams?Her anger flared. She waved her hand again. Crimson ichor exploded out from his wounds and he staggered in his retreat, his foot missing a branch and sending him hurtling towards the ground. He grunted and rolled, his blood spraying all over the stone floor. He kneeled, before shakily standing up. He panted, blood painting his lips as he glared up at her. She kicked him on the face, and he rolled across the dirt. She stepped forward, blood draining from her wounds and solidifying into a spear. She stabbed it into his shoulder, pinning him to the ground. He grimaced, but a scream still¡ªstillfailed to leave his lips. Not even a whimper. Her frustration mounted. Her blood was inside him, and he would taste her wrath through it. The weapon exploded within his flesh, slowly spearing through muscle and tissue. Sweat dripped from his brow, but his eyes remained glued to hers, swimming in venomous hatred. ¡°You know, Ireallywant to torture you until you have no blood left to bleed, but¡­¡± Grizelda leaned down and raked her sharp nails across his face. She brought her hand up and voraciously sucked his blood from her fingertips, shuddering in the sheer pleasure of absorbing the life she was taking. ¡°ButIwas sent to captureyou, you see. Quite urgently, so unfortunately, we will have to cut our little tryst short.¡± She looked down at him, a savage expression lining her scarred, ugly face. ¡°Are youreallya necromancer? I suppose that¡¯s rich, coming from me after I¡¯ve beaten you to the ground like this,¡± she said, twisting the barbed spear of blood in his shoulder. She frowned when he merely continued to glare up at her. ¡°You won¡¯t even let me have my fun, huh?¡± She shook her head. ¡°No matter, after lord Seith is done with you, I will have my fun with your soul until it dissipates back into its base form. Say goodbye to the mortal coil,necromancer,¡±she laughed and then, she laughed again. Louder and louder. Her shrill cackles turned more maniacal by the second. Her mouth began to open wider and wider. Blue, phantasmal light shone from deep within her throat. A hand rose from her open mouth, rotten¡ªtransparent. Ghostly. As she laughed, a spirit of a soul she¡¯d taken clawed its way out from her throat. More followed, and Grizelda reveled in the new expression that appeared in her victim¡¯s face. Shock. Fear. Yes. She loved seeing his wonderful face laced with that expression. The spirits screeched and moaned, rapidly escaping from within her body, clawing and raking their cold, ghostly hands through her throat in their frantic escape. She kept her grip on them tight, and the wailing spirits burned in hatred as they were forced to follow her commands. The ghosts gathered in droves, easily over dozens of them gathering around her and staring in violent hatred. She closed her mouth and rolled her jaw around, staring down at her target from above. ¡°You will become one of them too,¡± she told him, then pointed. The souls rushed into his body, melding into it. His eyes closed shut, sweat dripping from his brow in his fruitless struggle. His body began to contort, stiffening and jerking around, before ultimately falling limp. ¡°Do not worry. They are merely going to drag your soul out. Yourlifewill remain intact, while your body rots alone in this cold, dark forest,¡± she smirked, but her expression quickly morphed into a frown as the first couple spirits stayed within his body. She snorted, then sent more in. They tore their ghostly claws, sinking them beyond his body and digging them deep into his core. They dipped inside in an attempt to drag his soul out. They remained within.Impossible,she thought.Someone so weak shouldn¡¯t have a soul this powerful. ¡°Until the end,¡± she growled, glancing at the rest of the spirits. ¡°You struggle to raise my ire. All of you, go in and make his soul suffer the worst pain it ever has.¡± The spirits rushed past her, their expressions twisted and distorted into terrifying forms. They sunk and entered his body, all sixty-three of the souls she¡¯d considered worthy of making her slaves, until there were none left outside. Still, they remained within. Just as Grizelda was about to step closer and check, his chest shone with a phantasmal light. The spirits began to leave his body, climbing out one at a time. They surrounded him, and as the last spirit left, it emerged empty handed. She glowered at it. She waved her hand in anger, intending to snuff out its soul. It remained intact. The young man below her suddenly opened his eyes. They flashed with a cold glint. He raised his hand, and a Bone Spear buried itself into her chest. Blood dripped down her lips. Grizelda¡¯s eyes were bloodshot with anger, nearing the verge of insanity. ¡°You¡­!¡± She pointed her palm at him, her blood preparing to burst his head open like a melon. ¡°I¡¯ll kill yo¡ª!!!¡° Her scream was cut short as a spirit shot into her throat, crawling its way into her body. More followed, surging into her body like a tidal wave. The spear of bone retracted from her chest, and she staggered back and reeled, falling on her ass. She stared up at the young man as he struggled to stand up, feeling the army of wraiths wreak havoc inside of her soul, robbing her of movement as she vainly fought to keep her spirit intact from the hatred that the now raging spirits had kept suppressed. The young man limped towards her paralyzed body and put his hand on her head. She suddenly remembered the expression on his face as soon as he¡¯d seen the ghosts. It was not shock, nor fear. Far from it. It had been pleasant, treacherous surprise. ¡°Vitality Drain,¡± he muttered through bloody, gritted teeth, a glowing green stone burning with light in his hands. Black-green light flashed. A quiet second passed, and when it had gone, Grizelda¡¯s screams had already ripped deep into the trees. ¡ªo¡ª Alen let the desiccated corpse of the woman fall to the ground, every single mote of green light in her body siphoned into his. He spat out the blood in his mouth and wiped his lips, his eyes glaring at the woman in hatred. He waved his hand, and slowly, spirit after spirit exited her dried up corpse. Their faces were calm, emotionless. The previous fury their souls held fully and utterly vented. Alen tucked the Necrotic Mana Stone back into his robe. He looked at the rising plume of smoke in the distance and glanced back at the corpse. He felt no remorse for it. The woman had tried to kill him, and even though his injuries were fully healed and his threshold increased, the expression on her face as she mounted injury after injury on his body was still fresh in his mind. The enemy were attacking, and she was merely one of them. Therefore¡­ A spear of keratin shot into her head and dislodged a tooth. Alen felt her soul inside of her body¡ªalready about to dissipate. He dragged out the strands he needed and felt the power thrum inside of his skull. Death Affinity. True Power. His eyes were cold as he felt the presence of her soul. It was splitting away from itself, coming apart to return to its base form, as Selerius had said. Alen curled his fingers as if he was gripping a heart. A black and white glow shone just over his skin. The fragments of the woman¡¯s soul gathered in his hand, and Alen stared at it¡ªlooked at it. He looked farther than his eyes could see. An easy choice,Selerius spoke in his mind.Just extinguish it. Millions of souls are formed every day to make sure the Playground of the Gods never loses its life. This doesn¡¯t even count the thousands of new arrivals from different races they throw into here every day. Alen frowned. ¡°Every day? I thought it was a yearly thing?¡± The lich laughed, his voice echoing deep within Alen¡¯s mental space.In this continent, yes. You think a playground for something like the gods would be so small? It is not limited to this inconsequential piece of land¡ªnot even this piece of rock in space you call a planet. Entire realms like this one fall under their rule. They are called gods for good reason, boy. ¡°I see,¡± Alen licked his lips. Unexpectedly, his way back home suddenly seemed a lot farther. He stared back at the soul in his grip. If he didn¡¯t do anything to it soon, it would dissipate on its own, away from his influence. Selerius was silent, but Alen could feel that he was watching, waiting for his decision. Alen dropped his hand and let the soul dissipate naturally. Interesting,Selerius simply said, then, he left, his presence retreating to the deeper corners of Alen¡¯s mind. The necromancer sighed and threw a bone shard to the ground. His final souvenir from the Sandsea, a single beetle that he had saved, began to form. He mounted it and they rose, the spirits floating up from behind him. Right before he sped away, he pointed his hand at the woman¡¯s corpse and turned it to ash with a single blast of Rotfire. He hated her. If he didn¡¯t have Vitality Drain, he would¡¯ve died from his injuries, and if he didn¡¯t have Numb Senses, he would¡¯ve experienced untold pain. He definitely would¡¯ve destroyed her soul if that had happened, but it didn¡¯t. And that was good enough. Alen would deal with all the moral bullshit later. He gazed at the smoke in worry and sped up his pace, completely forgetting about the matter in the forest. He couldn¡¯t care less about it at the moment, because right now¡­ The people he valued were at stake, and he needed to save their asses. Again,he grinned. Update/Oneshot Hey guys. How''s it going? You good? Depressed, maybe? You picked up serial killing as a hobby? Excellent. So I wanted to give you guys a bit of a heads up just in case someone messages me asking if the fiction is dead. No. It isn''t. Exams are actually coming up in about seven days, and I''m being brutally pelted and sexually assaulted by multiple school works and projects. I''ll be dead for the next ten days, but after that, I should be back healthy. All nice and lathered in vegetable oil. Just for you. Ahem.This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience. Aside from that, yay! I hit my Patreon goal extremely soon--a lot sooner than I expected, so I won''t be able to deliver on that next stage reward tier until next month. As a band aid on the sore spot I left, I released a oneshot that I promised for free. You guys can give it a read right here: https://www.patreon.com/posts/17393586 If you guys like the concept, I might even make it into its own separate fiction. It would be my alternative if burnout or writer''s block for Necromancer and Co. ever sets in, which I''m surprised has left me alone for the better part of the eight months I''ve been writing this fiction. Anyway, thanks for reading, and enjoy! Book 3, Chapter 5: Wisdom Necromancer and Co., Book 3: The Underearth
Chapter 5: Wisdom "Within the Underearth lies the city of cities, the place of origin, and the headquarters of freedom. Pure, the city glows with a fiery light in the break of night and burns away the despair of imprisonment. Whether this is true for the city within remains to be seen. Is the light bright, or the shadow it casts darker?"
[Alen] He sped forward, past the stony trunks and above the branches and their glowing leaves. Above the forest, and into the sky above it. The gems on the impossibly tall cavern roof glittered like starlight, shining down upon his back. There, he frantically edited the structure of the giant beetle he was riding in his AutoBone program. In it, the bones were thickened, then compressed¡ªreinforced. Barbs grew, and the legs turned increasingly sturdier, increasing their capacity for magic. The village rolled into view. It rested against the edge of the cavern, with burning houses and huts resting on platforms glued to the wall. One such platform crackled with flame one last time, before crashing down into the forest. Hundreds of pale-skinned, big-eyed people fought in the platforms, defending themselves against an assortment of different creatures. One ran away from a massive, lobster-like behemoth, and another struggled to delay it. Alen tightened his jaw and pressed his hand into the beetle. His magic practically burst into it, drastically changing it mid-flight. It grew to twice its size, and its form became decorated with sharp horns and barbs that could slice through stone like butter. A flash of blue and white light came from the left. Alen¡¯s eyes flashed there just in time to see a spire of ice tear through a burning house. Sam stood atop it, throwing a frozen corpse off the platform into the forest below. Lynn jumped up from the spire, pelting the opposition with arrows. A young man Alen didn¡¯t recognize floated beside Sam, a ball of fire trailing over his shoulder. He hurled flames at one of the Xargith and another at a man that had horns and barbs akin to the woman Alen had just killed. Finally, Alen saw a young man jumping from house to house with surprising grace, the longsword in his hands flashing and injuring a long-faced, bat-like man that was pursuing a young girl. His eyes widened. It was Adam. Adam and the man began to fight, and as Alen rushed towards them, he spotted a shadow sneaking closer and closer to his friend. ¡°Oh no,¡± Alen shook his head, his features contorted into a cold stare as the beetle rushed forward even faster. The shadow dashed out from behind a house, the dagger in its hands about to stab into Adam. Alen¡¯s robes covered his entire right arm, creating a gauntlet that crackled with virulent black-green flame. He stomped.Bone Spear. He exploded forward like a rocket. ¡°Not this time, motherfucker,¡± Alen coldly said, and the figure turned just in time for the necromancer¡¯s gauntlet to latch onto his surprised face. Boom!Alen slammed the figure into a house, the keratin gauntlet empowering his push further by exploding forward like a piston. The structure¡¯s walls burst inwards, sending dust blasting out like a gout of dragonflame. Adam and his foe paused to stare, surprised. A figure in gray robes stepped out of the dust, leaving a corpse with a horrifyingly burnt and corroded face behind him. His emerald eyes glowed a piercing green, and his gauntlet surged with hungry, black-green flames. From above, a gigantic beetle escorted by an army of vicious phantoms landed beside him, the sheer weight shaking the platform and blowing away the dust. Alen ignored the shocked expressions sent his way and pointed at the massive lobster-like creature a few platforms below. His beetle jumped right off, speeding towards the creature like a freight train. ¡°Alen?¡± Adam asked, blinking. The man in front of him started to back away, his eyes laced with fear. ¡°T-Those¡­. Those are Torturer Grizelda¡¯s specters,¡± the man muttered, his eyes locked into Alen. ¡°You¡­¡± Their eyes met, and he shuddered, beating his bat-like wings and rising into an aerial retreat. Just as he turned, his eyes stared straight into the empty, terrifying visage of a vengeful phantom. It surged into his mouth, and his eyes turned glassy, before his body began plummeting down into the ground far, far below. Adam frowned. ¡°¡­Alen?¡± The necromancer waved his hand, and the spirits surged into the dozens of battles raging beneath the higher platforms, weaving into the fray and wreaking complete havoc. Adam saw the spirits and pointed his weapon at Alen who¡¯s face contained a cold, impassive stare. He suddenly failed to recognize the person in front of him. That face didn¡¯t belong to the Alen he knew. Adam¡¯s expression turned dark. ¡°If you aren¡¯t him, then you better tell me who you are or¡ª¡° ¡°Sorry,¡± Alen interrupted him, an awkward smile suddenly coming over his face. ¡°I was thinking of a cool one-liner to supplement my badass entrance, but my head¡¯s pretty much blank.¡± His friend relaxed, letting loose a breath of relief. He lowered his weapon. ¡°You¡¯re still dumbass,¡± sighed Adam. ¡°Oh, great. I thought I was losing my touch,¡± Alen nodded. Footsteps rushed towards them and Alen felt the magic surge to his hand, but he lowered his arm when he saw that the two moving towards them were Lynn and Sam. The latter glided along that platforms, ice forming under his feet, while the latter stuck to the wall, frost keeping her feet glued to the surface. Lynn jumped, and landed in front Alen. She shared a nod with Adam. ¡°You just got here?¡± the elf asked Alen. ¡°Yeah,¡± nodded Alen. ¡°Two of them attacked me in the woods. I ran from the first, but I wasn¡¯t lucky enough to escape the second one.¡± ¡°Where¡¯s the second one, then?¡± Sam raised a brow. ¡°Dead,¡± Alen simply said, looking down from the edge of the platform and orchestrating the chaos his new ghosts wrought. They jumped from victim to victim, every swipe of their phantasmal claws raking deep into their opponents¡¯ souls, causing them to pause mid-attack and allowing the surprisingly powerful villagers to reverse the tide of battle. Alen spared a glance at Sam. ¡°You sure these people are trustworthy?¡± ¡°They are,¡± Adam answered. ¡°Even if they aren¡¯t, I still owe them my life.¡± ¡°Alright,¡± nodded Alen, ¡°What¡¯s the plan?¡± ¡°Evacuation,¡± a voice suddenly said, and the necromancer blinked his eyes at the sound he didn¡¯t recognize. Alen turned around and spotted a man in his mid-twenties sporting a grim look on his face. His sandy hair was singed at the ends, likely due the ball of fire that continued to follow him around like a loyal, desensitized puppy. ¡°We¡¯ve been attacked like this before, but this is one of the bigger ones,¡± he sighed. ¡°This¡¯ll be our fourth time switching homes in two months.¡± ¡°Yo, Dieter,¡± Adam raised a hand in greeting, and the man, Dieter, nodded back. ¡°And so, I¡¯ll be counting on you guys again,¡± he told Adam and Sam, who nodded. He then looked at Alen. ¡°Can we trust you?¡± He nodded. ¡°About as well as a really moist piece o¡ª¡° BOOM!The entire cavern shook. From deeper into the woods, a flash of light had ripped through the air, slamming into one of the houses near the base of the wall and completely converting it into a charred crater. Dieter cursed. ¡°They have those mages again,¡± he bit his thumb¡¯s nail in frustration, pacing around rapidly. ¡°Let¡¯s stop talking. The sooner we help evacuate Kara and everyone else, the better. Granny Drizza will keep whoever they sent busy. I¡¯m off to get Kara! You four go and help the other villagers! Take them to the west side of the forest! The other hunters should already be waiting for us there!¡± With that, he jumped off, flames shooting out from his hands and sending him swooping downward into the warzone like a hawk. Sam glanced around at them and pursed his lips, before similarly jumping off the ledge. Adam shrugged at Alen. ¡°We¡¯ll catch up later,¡± he simply said, before jumping after Sam. Alen blinked. What the hell was happening? He looked at Lynn, who looked back. ¡°What?¡± She tilted her head. ¡°Let¡¯s go.¡± Alen sighed. ¡°I really need to take a break from this shit one day,¡± he said, then grabbed Lynn¡¯s hand before jumping off the platform. They fell, and seconds before they hit the ground, a parachute of keratin billowed out and slowed their fall. It disintegrated to dust, and the two of them plunked down into a run. They turned a corner and found Alen¡¯s beetle locked in battle against the giant lobster-like creature Alen sent it to fight against. Lynn loosed an arrow and it easily pierced through the monster¡¯s abdomen, her shots sporting a terrifying new level of penetrative power. Alen had his beetle tackled the creature, sending both of their large forms crashing to the sturdy, Stonewood platform. He waved his hand. Necrotic Blessing: Deathchill. Skeletal Rupture. Dozens of pikes and needles of Deathchill-coated keratin impaled the lobster creature to the ground, killing it and spraying its purplish blood all over the floor. Lynn ran past it, rushing into a house that had avoided the raging flames around them. Boom!Another explosion, presumably from the mages Dieter had talked about. As it hit, Alen felt three of his ghosts die on impact. He renewed their orders, having them try to avoid the magical attacks as much as possible. He called ten back to him and has them lurk behind him. He was a bit uncomfortable using the souls of the deceased as weapons, but right now, they were needed in his current task. Plus, Alen could feel that their spirits were content at the slaughter of the foes they were facing. Lynn ran out of the house, two children and a woman in tow. The latter held a baby in her arms, crying its eyes out. They boarded the giant beetle. He followed after them, nodding reassuringly at the scared children. He looked down at Lynn. ¡°You go and save the other villagers,¡± Alen said, holding a fragment of the lobster-creature¡¯s carapace. ¡°I¡¯ll fly the beetle up and support you with my summons. They¡¯ll be safer with me on here with them!¡± ¡°Gotcha,¡± Lynn nodded, then sprinted off to another burning house. The beetle rose, and Alen surveyed the battlefield. He spotted an area where one of the hunters that led him to the village was fighting alongside about half a dozen villagers. They were heavily outnumbered. Alen threw the carapace in that direction, the magic draining from his body as the lobster-creature fully formed and crushed three of the enemies under its club-like feet. He sent his ghosts out as well. They were dying quickly, but their impact was not to be doubt. Every second they brought after entering an enemy was valuable to the fleeing and fighting residents, giving them an edge in the battle. As he orchestrated his summons to the unpredictable rhythm of battle, one of the children tugged on his sleeves.If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. A young girl, her unnaturally large, teary black eyes causing him to feel a bit uncomfortable. ¡°You have to save daddy!¡± She insistently shouted. Alen blinked. ¡°Um, where is he?¡± ¡°Back in the house!¡± He glanced at the mother who was tending to her two to her two other children. Her cheeks were moist, and she felt¡­ empty. As if in shock. She looked up at Alen and shook her head, pulling her screaming child back. The husband was most likely dead. Alen frowned at the realization. ¡°Fuck,¡± he muttered under his breath, carefully controlling his undead with a newfound frenzy. He heard Lynn¡¯s voice in his head and moved the beetle down towards her, where another batch of injured survivors climbed onto its back. She was injured. ¡°What happened?¡± he asked her. ¡°One of them managed to sneak up on me,¡± said Lynn, wincing at the injury on her side. It looked bad. Alen pursed his lips. The beetle was already close to being full. ¡°Get on the beetle,¡± he said. She frowned. ¡°What? There are still a lot more to evacuate.¡± ¡°You¡¯re injured. It¡¯s too risky, especially when the lower platforms have even more of them. It¡¯s a lot more dangerous down there.¡± ¡°That doesn¡¯t matter. I¡¯ll be more careful, but lives are at stake here.¡± ¡°Ours are too! I barely killed the one I encountered in the woods. While the one we¡¯ve seen so far are relatively weak, stronger ones could come at any time! We need to leave while we can! I¡¯ll just go get Adam and Sam and¡ª¡± ¡°You can go ahead. I¡¯m not letting these innocent people die,¡± she lowly said, then turned around and sprinted off into the smoke and brimstone of the lower platforms. ¡°Shit,¡± Alen cursed, pursing his lips. To him, the amount of danger they were in increased by the second. The hunters, which were presumably the stronger ones among the villagers, ones even stronger than himself, were separated. With a group defending the village and another waiting for the evacuees, they were not only terribly outnumbered, but also inferior to the enemy. Granted, there were ones he could handle, but his luck wouldn¡¯t hold forever. The scar on his palm heated up. Fear is your true enemy,it almost seemed to say. Alen gripped his left fist tightly, calming himself and gazing out at the chaotic scene of fighting that enveloped the entirety of the cliffside village. Evacuation was his priority. He couldn¡¯t fly the beetle over the trees because not only would that paint a target on his back, but also give the point of evacuation away to the enemy. That meant that he had to take the refugees away through the trees. He nodded.Calm,he told himself. He needed to be calm. Now, there was the problem with Lynn and his two other friends. There was no way he was leaving them behind, so how was he going to accommodate them along with the people they were bound to bring? Through the forest, no less. He¡¯d need nothing short of a goddamn train to accomplish his task. He paused. His eyes widened. That was it! Hurriedly, he flew his beetle down from the sky, the villagers behind him sighing in relief after they left the sky where they could easily be shot down. Alen dipped his summon below the treetops and circled, making sure that they wouldn¡¯t be followed by concealing his summons behind a group of large boulders. Quickly, he had the lobster-creature retreat from where it was fighting, having it take a long route to meet up with his beetle summon. He nodded, then turned his back to leave. A voice called out to him from behind, coming from the dozen or so escapees he had with him. It was the little girl. She scrambled out of her mother¡¯s embrace and ran in front of him, blocking his path. ¡°I know that daddy won¡¯t come back,¡± she sniffled, giving him a long look, ¡°but you can¡¯t leave us like he did! I¡¯m not letting you!¡± Alen stared at her for a long moment. ¡°Do you have friends that are still in the village?¡± She wiped her eyes. ¡°¡­Yes,¡± she hesitantly said, as if afraid of thinking of what had become of them. ¡±Do you want to leave them behind?¡± ¡°No!¡± The necromancer smiled. ¡°Well, listen. I have friends back there too, and I don¡¯t want to leave them either. You¡¯ll be safer here than in the village, and I¡¯ll be right back as soon as I find them. If you let me look for them, I¡¯ll look for your friends too. Deal?¡± The girl who looked to be around nine paused, her large, teary eyes staring up at him to make sure he spoke the truth. Eventually, she nodded firmly. ¡°Okay,¡± she told him, putting up a brave expression and running back to his summon. Alen turned, his expression grim, before bolting into the woods with pikes of keratin erupting from his boots. Gray, stony trees ran past his vision like blurs, and he sharpened his mind as much as he could, maneuvering through the thick horde of trees using his keratin hooks and bursts of speed. Booooom!Another massive explosion rocked the village in the distance. Alen sped up. There was no telling how much time he had before things in that settlement became too dangerous. His ghosts were dying. Only about forty were left from the original sixty-three. Alen pulled a tooth from his robes.The woman¡¯s tooth,he gripped it tight. A fragment of her soul was within, and when he summoned her, Alen knew that her skeletal form would be a large asset to helping his escape. The village came closer.Should I do it?Alen asked himself. He¡¯d never used his skeletal minion spell on things beyond insects and animals. How would people react to him, seeing humanoid skeletons following him around? He¡¯d be hated. A walking reminder that their dead could be brought back as weapons¡ªkilling machines. Alen knew that once he started using them, he¡¯d keep doing it. The moment he summoned this hateful woman, another weight would pile itself over his shoulders. He was scared. How would his friends react? He¡¯d seen how Sam reacted to his nonchalant mention of killing the orc. They¡¯d be horrified with his methods. Lynn? She always gave off the air of a good person. How would she take it? Alen clenched his teeth and began to pull his hand back, preparing to slip the tooth back inside his robes. The slight presence at the back of his head told him that Selerius was watching, waiting for his choice. He could risk it. Yes. He could do it, right? He could¡ª An image flashed into his head, created by his own imagination. Adam flayed, his skin turned into mere tent flaps. Sam lying in a pool of his own blood, gutted and prepared to be cooked over an open flame. Lynn and Roland, their heads impaled on pikes as their glassy, lifeless eyes stared into the distance. All four of the images stared at him in blame, condemning him for his weakness. His scarred palm burned. His eyes grew bloodshot. ¡°You want to see a necromancer?¡± Alen asked the presence of the lich in his mind, opening up a copy of the spell program for Summon Greater Skeletal Minion. He completely erased the lines that grew body structures from bones. He upped the suppression the souls would experience¡ªforcing their entirety to obey his will. Alen felt the growl rise up his throat. ¡°I¡¯ll fucking show you one,¡± he said. Finally, the village came into view. Corpses were heaped atop one another, defenders and attackers, sharing their final moments in death. Alen waved his hand, and a virulent stream of black-green magic surged into the corpses of the attackers. Obsidian-skinned creatures, ones covered in horns and barbs, and some that eerily resembled insects and fish. They twitched, and as Alen clenched his fist and forced his magic to dominate their waning souls, they began to rise. The spell he¡¯d avoided creating for so long despite its ease had finally seen the light of day. Raise Undead. The enraged, indignant screams of the spirits trapped within their own corpses assaulted his mind through the connection they shared, raving and venting their hatred through the thread that held them together. Alen grimaced, taking an unsteady step back. He was about to cut his connection to the corpses when a laugh rang out from within his mind, and suddenly, the souls quieted¡ªcowed into submission. Good, good,Selerius chimed, approval lacing his tone.Before I was driven insane by these same voices in my head, I struggled with this decision too. I¡¯d only wanted to return what I had lost, so why drag these souls away from their next lives to further my cause? Why become the enemy of society? Back then, I didn¡¯t realize that my power was my own, and its use could be utilized for both good and evil deeds. It was not black and white, but gray. It is the magic we carry, fellow sovereign of the dead, and like all rulers, you must bear this weight upon your shoulders. I will suppress these spirits for now. They are terribly annoying when left to rave in this mental space of yours, so until the time comes that you are to face them, I will keep their voices from reaching both of our ears. Alen let loose a long breath, the ringing in his ears slowly fading away. ¡°Thanks,¡± he told the lich, staring up at the flashes of magic and fighting in the platforms above. I do no free favors, boy,Selerius said.Compensate me by thriving in this place¡ªby growing stronger. The sooner, the better. I have my own agendas to settle, and I can only do it through you. The amount of assistance I can give is limited, but remember that when the time comes, I will come to collect every grain of debt under your name with interest. ¡°Great,¡± Alen frowned, checking his mana. Forty-one percent. ¡°Now I have a loan shark in my head. Do you take sexual favors as payment?¡± The lich didn¡¯t respond, and Alen nodded, satisfied. He gazed at the undead awaiting his command and looked away, clenching his fists. He sighed. The feeling was still there. The weight in his chest. Every life taken another weight to bear. He opened up the party chat. ¡°Lynn?¡± He spoke aloud, feeling the sound of his voice run through the invisible thread of magic that linked them together. Don¡¯t come back,her voice rang back; tired. He frowned. ¡°Where are you?¡± Alen asked, more a demand than a question. We¡¯re backed against the wall,she said, voice uncharacteristically hard.Get the villagers and take them to the rendezvous point. The granny that guy talked about and this man are talking, and they don¡¯t seem to be friendly with one another. The feeling I get from both of them makes it hard to even breathe under the pressure. This isn¡¯t a fight we can take part in. ¡°I¡¯m going up there,¡± said Alen, resolutely. Magic gathered in his boots. His newly risen undead picked up their weapons, their blank, milky eyes staring into his. Power gathered in their legs, ready to dash up into the top platform. He nodded and bolted forward. The undead followed. His pikes propelled him forward. Lynn shouted in his head.Don¡¯t be stupid! Get those evacuees out of here! If you die too, then there isn¡¯t any hope left for them! Alen didn¡¯t respond. He called on his wraiths. Thirty remained. They phased through the walls and gathered, following after him. Alen, I swear to the gods if you go up here I¡¯m going to¡ª ¡°I¡¯ve found my friends, Lynn,¡± he told her. ¡°After so long, I finally saw them again. We haven¡¯t even talked properly yet. They¡¯re up there with you. I know they are. I¡¯m not leaving them to die, and I¡¯m sure as hell not leaving you either. Just shut up, watch, and let me be the one to save you this time.¡± He ascended the ramps and platforms as quickly as he could, leaving his undead behind. He got closer and closer to the top and gritted his teeth.Too slow,he cursed, then pointed his palm upward. Magic violently slammed against itself just beneath the surface of his palm. He compressed it further, his eyes glowing a bright emerald green. Lynn continued her attempts at dissuading him. You¡¯ve done enough! If those villagers I entrusted to you die, I¡¯ll never forgive you. Just go! Leave! There¡¯s no use for you to go up here! He closed his eyes and let loose a breath. When he opened them, black and white flames burned behind his pupils. His wraiths flew up and phased through the floors of the top platform, notifying him where the most enemies where concentrated. He aimed his palm at that spot. Are you even listening?! You¡¯lldieif you go up here,Alen. Sto¡ª ¡°Deathflare Blast,¡± Alen whispered. The world turned black. Everything went silent. For the briefest of moments, everything was nothing, and nothing was everything. No dust rose. No rocks tumbled. No wood crackled. Alen looked up at the result of the spell that had erased a part of the top platform from existence and wordlessly shot up using a pike from the bottom of his boots. He passed the boundary and landed, his feet silently tapping against the Stonewood boards of the top platform. Dozens of pairs of eyes stared at him and the destruction that he had caused. A man stood among them, smiling. His skin was the color of the blackest night, and his eyes were bloodier than the stains lathering Alen¡¯s hands. In his hands hung the unconscious form a young woman with golden hair, her eyes and skin similar to the rest of the villagers. An old woman stood in front of the man, staring at Alen in shock. The man turned his back to her and faced him. ¡°And so the mouse has come to play,¡± Sieth mused. ¡°And I thought you were wise for running from me thefirsttime.¡± Alen wordlessly summoned a black and white flame to his hand. The man looked at him in interest. Alen glanced at his three friends on the other side of the platform and nodded towards them in reassurance. He matched the man¡¯s gaze. ¡°I¡¯m an exceedingly wise person,¡± he coolly said, ¡°I¡¯m just not wise enough to live by my own wisdom.¡± Book 3, Chapter 6: Saving a Life Necromancer and Co., Book 3: The Underearth
Chapter 6: Saving a Life "The Stonewood trees stand eternal. Trunks of stone and leaves of light, they rise higher and higher until they are stopped. To the denizens of the Underearth, they represent hope. A way up. Escape from their prison; a return to their roots."
[Alen] In the same instant that Alen finished speaking, the remaining wraiths under his control tore through the wooden platform, their forms ignoring physical substance and lunging directly at the surrounding enemies. Some were prepared, and others succumbed to the shock, clutching at their throats as the ghosts buried themselves within their bodies. The stronger ones resisted, merely staggering back, but the weaker foes fell to their knees, their faces paling as their souls were attacked. Alen immediately burst forward, his form blurring in his advance towards his friends on the other side of the platform. They had been backed against the wall along with the other hunters, with the only thing standing between them and the horde of enemies being the single old lady named Drizza. He passed the obsidian-skinned demon of a man prepared to strike back if he was attacked, but strangely, the man stood still, observing him with interest as he passed. The young woman hanging in his grip was injured¡ªunconscious, but not dead. Sieth watched Alen land wordlessly, the calm smile on his face never fading. He glanced back at his forces. The wraiths were already being destroyed. One by one, they fell. Zombies were running up the ram connecting the upper and lower platforms, ready to face his recovering forces. The necromancer stared at him, his form ready to burst into motion. Alen watched as Sieth glanced at the old woman and pondered on what to do. He shook his head. ¡°I have no wish to tangle with you again, Drizza,¡± said Sieth, slinging the form of the young woman over his shoulder. ¡°We have already accomplished our reason for coming here, and the current you is far too pathetic to be worth putting down. I will say my farewells.¡± ¡°Give her back,¡± Drizza said, her old, almost milky eyes staring coldly at Sieth. ¡°I won¡¯t ask again.¡± Sieth laughed. ¡°No, you won¡¯t. We both know that our strengths were parallel before. Now? If fighting you posed any less of a risk of compromising my objectives, I¡¯d be lunging at you as we speak. The moment you come to strike at me, my men will attack yours. Your Hunters have dwindled, foolish woman. As has your strength. Is your priestess worth the lives of the last of your tribesmen?¡± Drizza lapsed into silence, her eyes boring into his. ¡°You will pay for this, Sieth. Your god will bring your people destruction of the likes this world has never seen.¡± ¡°Nonesense,¡± Sieth shook his head sadly, as if disappointed in a disobedient child. ¡°He will give us freedom. He will lead us to victory. We will return to the surface, you old hag, and your tribe of weaklings has no place in the world we are destined to reclaim. Make sure you tell the rest of those fools to hand over their priests and priestesses as well. We all know it is only a matter of time until they are given to the lord as sacrificial lambs, whether it be through the will of the martyr¡¯s sacrifice, or a lamb taken for slaughter.¡± He stopped, then stared past Drizza to give Alen a long look. ¡°We are not finished, necromancer. Far from it. I know not how you control that power of yours, but there is a role in all this you have yet to play. Farewell.¡± With this, the man turned and took an orb from within his clothes, before shattering it. A red light enveloped him and the rest of his lackeys, before suddenly, the light flashed, and they were gone, the sound of air rushing to fill empty space in their place. Alen¡¯s undead arrived in the upper platform and paused in their tracks, blankly staring into empty space. Alen frowned at them, then waved his hand, severing his connection to the zombies and watching them fall too the ground, lifeless. As they should be, Alen thought. He turned, and he spotted the rest of the survivors-turned-refugees. They stood around one another, wounded, covered in dirt and ash. A solid thirty of them were backed near the wall, and among them stood his three friends. Notably, Lynn, who was glaring at him. She approached him. ¡°Sorry,¡± he told her. ¡°Your luck won¡¯t hold forever, you know.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t have very much, to be honest,¡± Alen shook his head. ¡°Even if I¡¯d run out, I¡¯d still come back for you guys regardless.¡± ¡°I know now,¡± Lynn gave him a long, drawn out look and sighed exasperatedly. ¡°Where did you leave the ones I evacuated?¡± ¡°Somewhere over there,¡± Alen pointed into the woods. ¡°Giant beetle and lobster monster near them. They¡¯re behind a couple large boulders. Should be easy enough to spot if you know what you¡¯re looking for.¡± ¡°I¡¯m leaving,¡± she said, then without waiting for his reply, she turned and jumped off the top, plummeting down towards the bottom platforms. Alen sighed and looked to the side as an arm found itself over his shoulders. ¡°I think you pissed her off,¡± Adam said, wounded. There was a cut on his neck¡ªbleeding, but not fatal. ¡°Ah well, I guess it is my fault to some extent,¡± Alen pursed his lips. ¡°I still I think I was right in what I did, though. I took the villagers to a safe place, and then I rushed over here to save my team. You guys need to stop relying on me so much though. Things haven¡¯t changed at all.¡± ¡°Fuck you, dude,¡± Adam laughed. ¡°You¡¯re the one who sucks dick the most in this friendship.¡± ¡°Whoa, thanks man,¡± Alen grinned, his shoulders relaxing. He let out a breath, and looked around to see the new arrival from before looking down with a dark expression on his face. Who was he again? Alen thought. He was a new arrival. Dee something. Deeber? ¡°What¡¯s up with him?¡± He asked Adam, and immediately, the young man¡¯s face turned grim as well. ¡°Kara¡¯s gone,¡± said Adam. Alen frowned. He really didn¡¯t know a thing about the situation. ¡°Listen,¡± he told Adam. ¡°I have no idea what¡¯s happening right now. First of all, who were those people? I saw some generic fantasy¡ªwell, not so fantasy races up in the surface, but I¡¯ve never heard of people who look like the ones who attacked us. Plus, who the hell is Kara?¡± ¡°The priestess,¡± Dieter growled. ¡°They took her.¡± ¡°Who is they, exactly?¡± Alen asked, an eyebrow raised. ¡°Pieces of shit. That¡¯s what they are,¡± Dieter raised his head, eyes bloodshot. His eyes darted around, then settled on the old woman named Drizza, who was still standing in the same spot, her fists clenched and her large head tilted down to face the Stonewood boards below. He gritted his teeth and walked forward, passing her as he spoke. ¡°Granny, I¡¯m going to look for them. Those crystals shouldn¡¯t have taken them very far. I¡¯ll bring Razzan and the others and we¡¯ll¡ª¡° ¡°No,¡± the old woman said. ¡°No? No?¡± Alen watched as Dieter turned to look at her, horrified. ¡°They have your granddaughter, Granny. They have Kara! You know what they do to the priestesses like her! We have to save her!¡± ¡°We can¡¯t,¡± Drizza croaked, a tear sliding down her wrinkled face as she shook her head. ¡°We mustn¡¯t,¡± she repeated. Dieter backed off, the flame hovering just over his shoulder dimming. ¡°She¡¯ll die. You know what they do. They¡¯ll torture her. Kill her. She¡¯ll die screaming! You¡¯re telling me you¡¯ll just let that happen? I know you two had a rocky relationship, but don¡¯t you care about her at all!?¡± ¡°Don¡¯t you dare muster the gall to tell me that I¡¯d just let my own granddaughter suffer that fate,¡± Drizza said, her large, dark eyes flashing a deep sea green. A powerful pressure swept out, and Alen¡¯s legs bent. Due to how close he was to her, he and Adam staggered to the side, a powerful wave of magic crushing down upon their shoulders. Dieter¡¯s eyes widened in shock, but were soon replaced with worry as the old woman fell to her knees, gasping for breath. ¡°Granny!¡± He rushed to her side, supporting her before she could topple to the ground. He turned her over. Her face was pale, and her eyes were dark¡ªdarker than they should¡¯ve been. Suddenly, her cheeks were gaunt, as if she hadn¡¯t eaten in days. One of the men rushed past Alen, kneeling down beside the two and checking on the old woman. One of the Hunters, Alen guessed. He seemed powerful. Possibly even much stronger than Alen was. ¡°What¡¯s happening to her?¡± Dieter asked, his face pale. ¡°Her life energy is about to sputter out again,¡± the man muttered, laying the old woman on the ground. He barked orders to the other villagers and Hunters, and they obeyed, hurriedly rushing down the platforms and sprinting into the forest while the surviving villagers dug into the collapsed houses. Alen gave Adam a look and found that he had left his side, rushing into the ashen ruins of a half-destroyed home. Sam had done the same, tearing through a house in search of something. Alen approached Dieter. ¡°How do I help?¡± He asked, but was promptly ignored by the two people in front of him. They constantly checked on the old lady, the flame above the Deeder guy¡¯s shoulders flaring to life and casting a warm glow over her, causing the strain on Drizza¡¯s face to slacken. Alen pursed his lips and was about to leave when his eyes widened at the sight before him. He stopped and looked down at the old woman, sensing what was happening within her with his magic. Her life force¡ªthe green motes of light¡ªwas fading. Like dying Christmas lights, one by one, they blinked out of existence, and as the warm glow Dieter¡¯s flame cast its light upon her body, some of the motes were seemingly empowered, struggling against whatever was snuffing them out. Alen licked his lips. So it¡¯s a matter of those light things, then? He nodded, then pulled up the spell program for Vitality Drain. It was extremely hard to get it right the first time he created it, but right now, Alen was confident that with a bit of tweaking, the life force could be transferred from him to the recipient instead of the other way around. That should fix the problem easily. A problem presented itself, however. If he somehow fucked it up¡­ He remembered Drizelda¡¯s screams and shuddered. He grit his teeth and began editing the program. ¡°Deeder,¡± he said. ¡°I have a way to¡ª¡° ¡°Look, I¡¯m not in the mood for jokes. My name¡¯s Dieter, and if you¡¯ve got nothing to do, then I suggest you either go down into the forest and search the Stonewood trees for life-based mana crystals or just leave.¡± ¡°Dieter, fuck, whatever,¡± Alen shook his head, pushing his hand out to the man. ¡°Listen, if they don¡¯t find whatever they¡¯re looking for soon, she¡¯ll die, right? In the event that they don¡¯t find those crystals, I have a spell that could help her before she dies, but if I mess it up, the whole village will hear her screams.¡± Dieter frowned, then cast a gaze at the hunter beside him. The hunter nodded at Alen. ¡°My name is Razzan,¡± the hunter said. ¡°How sure are you that your magic will work?¡± ¡°Thirty percent,¡± answered Alen. Razzan and Dieter frowned. ¡°The success rate is so low?¡± Razzan asked. ¡°We¡¯re short on time, and quick isn¡¯t exactly the best way to describe my spell-creation process.¡± Dieter stood up. ¡°You¡¯re creating a spell on the spot for this!? Razzan, this is ridiculous!¡± Old lady Drizza¡¯s blank eyes flickered with life, and she gave Alen a long look. ¡°¡­Let him,¡± she feebly spoke. ¡°I am no stranger to pain. Seith destroyed the last of the crystals when one of his mages struck my home with a siege spell in the battle.¡± She reached out and gripped Alen¡¯s wrist. The grip was strong, even in her ailing state. ¡°I am running out of time, young man,¡± she muttered. ¡°¡­Do it quickly.¡± Alen clenched his fist and gently pulled her hand from his wrist. ¡°Give me a second. I¡¯ll finish it as soon as I can,¡± he said, then sat down in front of the woman. Razzan and Dieter began to argue, but the noise soon faded to the back of Alen¡¯s mind. He closed his eyes. With what he was going to be doing, he wouldn¡¯t be needing the system notepad. Reading through all those commands would be far too slow.This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it He was going to scan the spell with nothing but his mental prowess. With the thought perception and analytical prowess his intelligence stat granted him, it should be well within his capabilities. He¡¯d even done it multiple times before¡ªchanging the values of one or two lines in the middle of combat to change the effect of his spells. Now, it wouldn¡¯t be near as simple. He¡¯d be changing multiple lines¡ªdozens, all the while they flashed by his thoughts like lightning arcing through the clouds. He let out a low breath, and then, he began. Commands flashed through his head. The basic format. The spell blueprint¡ªlike scaffolding. Foundation. Support to serve as ground for his mana to build on. He passed it. The minor commands flashed into his head. Minimum mana value. Maximum mana value. Casting Range. Affinity channels¡ªTarget. It flashed by his head. He changed target to self. Sweat dripped from his brow. The entire structure of the lower commands shifted like sliding doors, thrown into disarray from a single change. Green mote ownership severing. Soul binding. Bodily adjustment. Health transfer threshold. He changed them all. It kept zipping through his head, a noiseless roar of words and values thundering past his mind like a mindless stampede. Vitality Drain was not a simple spell. It taken his new spell creation system to the limit when he¡¯d created it for the first time, and now, it was pushing his mind to its brink. Each wave of information felt like a wave crashing upon him, yet, he was an existence akin to a boulder¡ªan unshakeable structure that stood defiantly amidst a raging storm. He would make it through. He made more edits. The spell configurations sped by faster and faster. The green motes had a certain brand of ownership within them. In small amounts, they were insignificant, but in large doses, it was like inviting the Trojan horse into one¡¯s own soul. He had to change that. Each time his green motes passed through his fingers and into the recipient, he made it so that his ownership was severed, then made sure that the magic preserved the now ownerless blinks of life essence. It was not over there. More came. He frantically edited. Next. The magic would forcefully invade the recipient¡¯s own life force, squeezing against the brand of ownership to create a mold¡ªan idea he¡¯d gotten from his original AutoBone concept. After forming the mold, the mana would fill the gaps and throw itself into the ownerless motes, forging the brands and making the recipient¡¯s body recognize them as its own without waging a nuclear war in the receiver¡¯s soul in a crazed battle of dominance. The mana would then push the motes through the body like a river of life, having them sink into the recipient¡¯s muscles. Their bones. Tissue. The soul itself. It would heal. It would mend¡ªrepair. It would save this old woman. Alen let loose a soundless roar in his mind as the final lines of magic flashed through his head. The final edit took its place. His eyes flashed open. The old woman lay withered. Skin and bones. Sunken face. Pale skin. Even more so than before. The green lights were fading away in her body faster than before. Two people frantically tried all they could to save her. A flame burned brightly, its purifying light slowing the decay down. Another watched, a hand to Dieter¡¯s shoulder. The woman continued to waste away. She was dying. He suddenly remembered his grandmother. She was in her nineties. Sickly, but as energetic as she always was. She loved them; never forgot to smile whenever she saw him¡ªas if to tell him that just seeing his face had made her day. That old woman was alone now. He wasn¡¯t there to visit her anymore. He wouldn¡¯t see her in her last days. Alen always had a soft spot for his grandparents. Was she on her deathbed? His eyes watered. He was going to come back. He was coming back, and he was going to be there to tell her she was an amazing person before she passed away. He would do it every day. Alen promised himself that. He wouldn¡¯t let her die without him, and just like his own gran, this old woman had her own grandchildren to see before her death. He would give that to her. What he was going to do would hurt like fucking hell, but he would do it. This woman would not die alone. The necromancer put his hand on her head. Vitality Manipulation: Transfer. His life force surged into the old woman¡¯s frail form. A small throb of pain shot into his head. Alen¡¯s body locked itself in place. Sweat poured out of his skin like water squeezed from a soaked sponge. His fingers began to twitch uncontrollably. He was trembling. A thought came to him, and a realization blinked to life in his mind: what he felt wasn¡¯t just a small throb of pain after all. It was agony. His mind couldn¡¯t process it at first, but now it was. It was sharp. It cut¡ªbit deep into his psyche. Alen was never weak to pain. He had a strong resistance to it. At least, that was regarding the pain inflicted upon his body. This? This felt like his soul was being ripped apart. Numb Senses couldn¡¯t do a thing to what he has experiencing right now. Piece by piece, mote by mote of green light. His magic severed it all from his own body. Snipped off like pointless extensions and rid of his ownership by the hungry decay of his magic. Each and every mote that left was another dagger of white hot fire that stabbed into his mind, telling him that once every bit had left, he would be robbed of what was most important. His life. It went on for what felt like an eternity. Once Alen had commenced the spell, it was as if he¡¯d been electrocuted, his hand clasping around the old woman¡¯s head like a vice. He couldn¡¯t pry it open even if he had the mental attention to give his body a command. His life forced continued to surge in. A warm light washed over his back. Dieter¡¯s flame, he recognized. It strengthened his life force and eased the pain, slowly growing back the green motes he had disowned. His health continued to drain. When he¡¯d started, it was near ninety percent. Now, it was dangerously close to reaching the twenties. It dipped lower. Lower. Eighteen percent. Thirteen. Eleven. Ten percent. The spell shut down. Alen had set a threshold beforehand, and it had reached it. He reeled, his face pale and sallow. Alen staggered back, and his feet slipped. Just before he fell off the edge of the top platform, a strong, pale hand gripped his wrist and pulled him back. Despite his form, his eyes burned with life. He stared at the man that had pulled him up. Razzan. Thanks, he wanted to say, but the words never left his dried throat. He was too drained¡ªtoo weak to say the words. With the help of the hunter, Alen ambled off to near the wall before sitting down, his body lame and heavy like a sack of rocks. He looked up and gazed at the old woman. Drizza, he remembered the name. He had been in this world for nearly a quarter of a year, and he¡¯d taken hundreds¡ªthousands of lives. Plants. Animals. Humans. This was the first that he had saved. He weakly leaned against the wall, watching the back of the hunter named Razzan as he went to check on the old woman. A crowd of villagers had gathered in the time that he had spent transferring his vitality to her. They surrounded the old lady, relief washing over their faces as they gazed at her relatively healthy complexion. Her cheeks were no longer as sunken, and her body exuded a sense of healthiness. She had been restored. A villager sent a gaze of gratitude towards Alen, nodding towards him in appreciation before running off somewhere. Dieter walked up to him and offered him his hand. ¡°Thanks,¡± the man simply said. Alen took his hand and stood up with a grunt. His knees groaned against his own weight. ¡°Now that she¡¯s okay,¡± Alen croaked out, ¡°what¡¯s the plan?¡± ¡°We leave,¡± hissed Dieter, through gritted teeth. ¡°We¡¯ll retreat to another safe location in the cave, get in contact with the Father, and then, I¡¯m coming back to track those Xargith down.¡± ¡°Xargith?¡± Alen questioned. ¡°What is happening, exactly? I¡¯m going to be risking my life for you people, so I better get an explanation soon. I don¡¯t like fighting for something I don¡¯t even understand.¡± ¡°Ask Adam and Sam,¡± said Dieter. ¡°I have a lot of things to take care of, so take this and rest up. We¡¯re heading out for the Hall of Pillars soon.¡± Alen received the vial of glowing blue liquid that Dieter handed him and watched the man walk off, following the hunter Razzan as they dashed off into the lower platforms. He stared at the vial and its crystal-like surface. Slowly, he uncapped the wooden lid and let the smooth, tasteless liquid race down his throat. He let loose a breath and leaned back against the wall. Alen watched the villagers carry Drizza off, and for once, his heart felt light. The sticky, viscous sensation of blood on his hands that he usually ignored had faded. It lingered, but for now, his feelings towards it weren¡¯t near as strong. He had saved someone¡¯s life. It was a wonderful feeling. He smiled and closed his eyes, intending to doze off, when a hand patted his shoulder. His eyes blinked open to look straight into the large, black eyes of one of the big-headed, pale skinned villagers. Alen recognized him¡ªit was the one that had run off after giving him a nod. He had a basket in his arms. It was full of food. The man nodded at him and pointed at the food. ¡°I do not speak Common often,¡± the villager said, in the same strange accent that everyone in the Underearth did. ¡°Do you understand me?¡± ¡°Y-Yeah,¡± Alen said, nodding awkwardly. It was silent for a few moments, and Alen found himself pursing his lips. ¡°Um¡­ hey? What¡¯s up, man?¡± He asked, then nearly grimaced at himself. He really had to thank Lynn and Roland some time for putting up with him for so long. The villager laughed. ¡°You speak just like those other two. Sam and Adam. You three are strange people,¡± he said, before setting the food down in front of Alen. ¡°And while I believe that to be true, you are good people as well. Thank you for saving lady Drizza. She has been the pillar of our little community for generations, but she is being weakened by age. We had hoped for Kara to take her place, but alas¡­¡± He sighed, closing his large eyes in weariness. ¡°Fate has not been kind to us. The Xargith, doubly so. Eat up, small-eyed man. Rest. We will handle the departure preparations,¡± he said, then turned, leaving the necromancer on the spot. ¡°Did he just call me small-eyed?¡± Alen murmured, staring at the food. It was a simple collection of meat, fruits, and nuts. Bare, but appetizing in his own way. Alen laughed at the villager¡¯s remark and plucked a piece of the meat from the basket before throwing it into his mouth. He sat there, idly chipping away at the food given to him, when he spotted three heads walking up the ramp to the top platform. Brown, dark, and snow-white hair. He immediately knew who they were. ¡°You¡¯ve lost weight,¡± Adam smiled helplessly, pointing at Alen¡¯s tired, somewhat sunken face. He shook his head. ¡°I know I retched my meals out in high school to lose weight, and it ended well for me over all, but I didn¡¯t think you¡¯d follow such a bad example, Alen. You disappoint me.¡± ¡°Ah, great. Looks like I haven¡¯t lost my touch in regards to that either,¡± Alen nodded in agreement, before looking at the three of them questioningly. ¡°What brings the three of you here?¡± ¡°I heard some faggot saved Granny Drizza and I was about to congratulate him, but as it turns out, it¡¯s you, so¡­¡± Adam shrugged. ¡°I just tagged along,¡± Lynn chimed. Alen sighed a breath of relief in his head. It looks like she''d calmed down after seeing that the villagers he''d left were safe. Sam pointed at the dark, now lightless cavern roof and thought of a reason. He nodded. ¡°I¡¯m scared of the dark.¡± ¡°Yeah, he¡¯s still dumb, it seems,¡± Alen gave Adam a pitying look. ¡°Sometimes¡ªno, I¡¯ve always wondered why any of us are friends at all, really. Sam¡¯s dumb, you¡¯re socially retarded, and I¡¯m good looking and my hair is fucking godlike. I need cooler friends.¡± ¡°Excuse me?¡± Sam raised a brow at him. ¡°All cool people are inherently human and guess what? I¡¯m human. That means I¡¯m cool.¡± ¡°First of all, your hair is garbage,¡± Alen pointed at the messy windswept mop of a hairstyle Adam worshipped, then pointed his finger at himself. ¡°And secondly, I¡¯m the coolest friend you have.¡± ¡°You literally just proved my point.¡± ¡°Fuck.¡± ¡°Whoa dude,¡± Sam spread his arms, pushing them apart as if he was breaking off a fight between two angry drunkards. He gave Alen a look. ¡°Drop the profanities man. Those words are bad. You shouldn¡¯t be saying them. Think of the children.¡± ¡°Yeah,¡± Adam nodded. ¡°You should really be considerate of the kids, Alen. You shouldn¡¯t be hearing these words man.¡± Alen flashed Adam a rude gesture and glared at Sam. ¡°I don¡¯t think we¡¯re going to work out, Sam. We¡¯re breaking up.¡± ¡°Really?¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± ¡°Okay then.¡± ¡°Fuck you whore,¡± Alen spat. ¡°I¡¯m leaving you for Lynn. She has a bigger dick.¡± Lynn shrugged. ¡°I probably do.¡± ¡°And what the hell have you done to her? My wood elf friend told me that snow elves were noble,¡± Adam said, pointing at Lynn in horror. ¡°I thought Wood Elves were the only vulgar ones!¡± ¡°They do get quite rude after warming up to you, don¡¯t they? Elysia was especially bad. I thought she was such a nice girl, but when she started talking¡­¡± Lynn shuddered, then leaned in close to whisper something to Adam. ¡°She¡¯s pretty easy too, though. If you go along with Alen¡¯s jokes, he¡¯s more likely to pay for the meal as well. Join me.¡± ¡°I see, I see,¡± Adam nodded. Both of them stared at Alen, nodding to themselves. ¡°I knew you were a gold digger!¡± Alen cursed at the elf. ¡°What¡¯s that?¡± Lynn asked, tilting her head at Adam. ¡°Uh, a girl who hooks up with a rich dude to take advantage of his money.¡± She shook her head, sighing helplessly with a barely suppressed smile on her face. ¡°Can¡¯t dig for gold when there isn¡¯t any to dig for in the first place. I was the one who paid for his last meal too.¡± ¡°You caught a fish and roasted it while I was asleep!¡± ¡°I paid with effort.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll pay you back with gratitude.¡± ¡°That means nothing to me,¡± said Lynn, innocently. ¡°Fuck you.¡± The three in front of him laughed, and Alen¡¯s shoulders relaxed as a grin crept onto his face. He threw a strange, triangle-shaped berry into his mouth and chewed, motioning to the place around him. Dark cavern roof. Gloomy walls. Burnt down buildings. Perfect place for a nice chat, he noted. ¡°Alright, so now that we¡¯re all here, and we have a bit of time until we set off for whatever, are you guys down to just chill here?¡± ¡°Yo, I¡¯m down,¡± Adam swiped a fruit from the basket and bit down on it, finding a comfortable seat on a charred, wooden plank. Sam followed suit, merely opting to sit down on the dusty Stonewood boards beneath them. Lynn leaned against the wall and crossed her arms, stealthily grabbing various pieces of food from Alen¡¯s dwindling basket. He slapped her hand. ¡°Ow, hey!¡± She glared. Alen coughed, ignoring her, and smiled, the warmth in his chest unmistakable in the cold caverns on the Underearth. He looked around at his companions and grinned. ¡°So,¡± he clapped his hands together happily. ¡°Who wants to talk about the awesome shit they almost died doing first?¡± Book 3, Chapter 7: The City of Pillars Necromancer and Co., Book 3: The Underearth
Chapter 7: The City of Pillars "The mightiest city in the world beneath the earth, where the people made their homes and where light shone its hope in the darkest corner of the hidden world. The City of Pillars stands for a single goal: escape."
[Alen] Saying that their destination would be far was a massive understatement. Alen had lost count of the number of winding paths, steep slopes, and hidden tunnels they¡¯d gone through after the first day. The Underearth constantly shifted around him. Often, he¡¯d look back to see that a hole they¡¯d gone through suddenly looked smaller, or that a passage they¡¯d passed had suddenly disappeared from sight. While at first, the constantly shifting sights and tunnels were something he marveled at, the amazement soon morphed an impatient, disappointing boredom. Sam, Adam, and Lynn walked along by the back of the group. They made chatter with Dieter and Lady Drizza who he carried on his back. They seemed to be enjoying themselves, but Alen was the weariest of the three. He walked ahead and spotted the familiar form of the village¡¯s lead Hunter. ¡°Are wethereyet?¡± Alen asked, trudging after Razzan who led the way with the rest of the silent, dark-clothed Hunters. ¡°Ask me that again, and I will save myself the trouble of dealing with the cave trolls farther ahead by taking another detour,¡± said a not-so-silent Razzan. ¡°A long one.¡± Alen groaned and walked back, passing groups of travel-worn villagers. Their faces were dark, and sometimes even blank with what looked like shock. They had lost family to the attack, and Alen hoped to reach their destination soon. He was already at his wits end from the lack of peace and rest he¡¯d had over the last few months, and these people seemed even more familiar with the same kind of chaotic lifestyle than he was. Not to mention the tragic events that occurred in the village. With that hanging over their heads, Alen was surprised none of them had snapped. He sighed. Over the past day, which was forty hours in the Underearth, he¡¯d asked about a lot of things to clear his boredom. The most interesting bits were about the Underearth itself. Taking a glance at the device Hunter Razzan held in his hands, he couldn¡¯t help but admire the tool once again. When he¡¯d asked Dieter about them out of curiosity, the man had surprisingly launched into an enthusiastic explanation. Apparently, the Hunters weren¡¯t limited to the race of big-eyed, big-headed people called the Kaer they were traveling with. It was an organization that spanned all across the Underearth¡ªone that was the underground world¡¯s equivalent of the Commissions House. There was a single difference though. The Commissions House was focused on facilitating requests and satisfying both parties, and while the Hunter¡¯s Lodge did the same things, their main objective was completely different: Hunting. Not the killing of beast or men. Not even insects. They trekked the Underearth with a single target in mind¡ªa single trail to follow. They wanted to find the way out. They were trapped here, apparently. A punishment from the Gods for a crime so old the current generation didn¡¯t even remember what it was in the first place. The Hunter¡¯s Lodge was an organization almost as old as that crime itself, and its roots stretched farther than the eye could possibly see. They¡¯d been searching for far too long, and they¡¯d developed many methods to get closer and closer to their goal. The devices were one of them. Powered by magic stones and complicated runework and mana circuitry, they were used to leave long-lasting magical imprints on all kinds of surfaces, resulting in a waypoint of sorts that the device kept track of and displayed on its clear, crystal screen. That way, even when the destination shifted, the paths required to reach it would merely change to the experienced navigator. To the not so experienced ones, however? It was absolutely terrifying. In the Underearth, getting lost almost definitely meant death. With the constantly changing routes, walking around in circles and dying of thirst or lack of food wasn¡¯t hard to accomplish. That wasn¡¯t even accounting for the ease of which the unsuspecting delver could delve into the domains of dangerous creatures or enter one of the hundreds of danger zones within the City of Pillars¡¯ territory alone. Alen felt his brain ache from the information. The Sandsea was hard enough to navigate with all the map-reading and lack of roads, but the Underearth didn¡¯t evenhavereliable maps. Those could only be made by experience¡ªmaps and waypoints. Very few would be willing to trade their navigation devices, and while some made a profit selling devices that had waypoints filled in, the danger involved wasn¡¯t something to joke about. He glanced up at the ceiling and sighed. They needed to get out of here, but it seemed like that wouldn¡¯t come soon. They would have to become Hunters and receive their own nav-devices as well. All in the name of returning to the place from which they were swept off from. Alen suppressed the uncertainty he felt and walked up to his three friends who were now just silently walking on. ¡°Hi guys,¡± Alen greeted them. ¡°Hey,¡± said Lynn. ¡°Yo,¡± replied Adam, raising a hand back in greeting. ¡°What¡¯s up, dude?¡± Sam grinned. Alen smiled. While there was no denying that his two friends had changed on a level he couldn¡¯t put his finger on, and that their interactions had changed and weren¡¯t as joking as before, he could still say that these three were people he could trust. He really wished Roland was there to meet them too. His mood soured at the thought. Alen drove away the frown trying to creep onto his face and settled on their pace, walking beside the group. ¡°So,¡± said Alen, ¡°are you guys going to become members of the Lodge too?¡± Sam smiled, nodding enthusiastically. ¡°Hellyeah,dude. Me and Adam were already planning to, but no one was available to take us to the City until now,¡± he lowered his voice around the end of the sentence. ¡°Though with what happened, I¡¯d prefer a delay over¡­ this,¡± said Sam, pointing at the solemn forms of the surviving villagers ahead. ¡°Yeah,¡± said Lynn, a sad look on her face. ¡°I¡¯ve seen hunched backs and blank faces like these far too often.¡± Alen frowned. ¡°What do you mean? Did we pass any people like in the Sandsea? The city near the Gray Forest in Redaria?¡± ¡°No,¡± she shook her head, ¡°it was before that.¡± She took a moment to collect her thoughts, then seeing that they were listening, she continued. ¡°On the way to the central continent, I went through multiple borders. And with things are in the areas between the southern and central ends of the continent, the things I saw weren¡¯t pretty. Have any of you heard of the war between the elves and the orcs?¡± Sam raised his head and arched a brow. ¡°Yeah, I was told about them,¡± he said, ¡°weren¡¯t those wars finished?¡± ¡°They aren¡¯t. At least, unofficially,¡± said Lynn. ¡°After things calmed down five years ago, there haven¡¯t been any major battles, but there are always the occasional skirmishes. Raids. Attacks. When you have two races that hate each other so much that they¡¯ve stopped caring why, things get ugly. My kind has killed their leaders and heroes, and their kind has slaughtered and pillaged our villages in kind.¡± ¡°They¡­ aren¡¯t all bad,¡± said Sam, a bit defensively. ¡°When I first got here, they took me in. I wouldn¡¯t be here if one of them didn¡¯t save me from a pack of snow wolves.¡± Lynn sighed. ¡°I know. With the family I came from, I know,¡± she hesitated for a moment, then continued. ¡°¡­Everyone has the same potential for good and evil in the end. Our histories have clashed. Many times. Humans and Elves, Orcs and Dwarves, Lizardmen with Aarook. The point is, people can do horrible things in the name of what they believe in. I saw families torn apart and hundreds of freshly dug graves on my way to the central continent. I¡¯m not saying the Orcs that saved you were like the ones that killed those people, but I can¡¯t say that they aren¡¯t, either. In here, it¡¯s just not the question of whether you¡¯ll kill or not. It¡¯s a question of what will take for you to do it.¡± ¡°You speak like you¡¯re an expert in it,¡± muttered Adam. Elves had good hearing. Lynn looked at him sadly and pursed her lips into a thin line. ¡°It¡¯s something that people who live in this world will learn in one way or another, and I¡¯ve lived here all my life.¡± Alen put his hand on Adam¡¯s shoulder and shook his head. ¡°This place isn¡¯t as nice to people as Earth, as much as I wish it was.¡± The young man deflated. ¡°I know, it¡¯s just¡­¡± he sighed. ¡°Culture shock, I guess.¡± ¡°Yeah,¡± Alen agreed. ¡°Mm.¡± Silence reigned over the four as they walked forward. Alen sighed. This place had changed them all, and from the reactions his friends had given, it had changed him the most. He had woken up in a forest full of undead, and he had fought for his life, faced his fears, and forced himself forward all in the span of a week. From there, he¡¯d barely had the time to rest. He¡¯d killed people, too. Far more people than his friends did, by the looks of it. His magic just wasn¡¯t suited for incapacitation. Alen sighed. He really needed a break. The last time he relaxed for a long period was in their long journey to the Sandsea. A vacation was long due. It had been due for far, far too long. ¡°¡­Shouldn¡¯t we rest, then?¡± he asked. Adam glanced at him. ¡°What do you mean? We took a stop just a couple hours ago.¡± ¡°No,¡± Alen shook his head. ¡°I mean a break. A vacation. After we arrive in the City of Pillars or whatever safe place we find.¡± ¡°We still have to get out of here,¡± Sam shook his head. Lynn looked at him and Alen sighed. ¡°I know,¡± he breathed out. ¡°We still need to find Roland too. I¡¯m just worried that we¡¯ll snap under the stress. We¡¯ve all been too on edge lately. I can¡¯t even walk without subconsciously running my magic through my clothes in order to react quickly anymore.¡± ¡°Roland could¡¯ve already arrived in the City of Pillars, if it¡¯s as well known for being a safe haven as Deiter said it was,¡± said Lynn. ¡°If he isn¡¯t there, we can always take a few days to rest and wait for him. It¡¯s not a good idea to rush ahead in a place like this without proper preparations anyway. If he still hasn¡¯t arrived during that time, we can make for the Hunter¡¯s Lodge and set out to look for him ourselves.¡± ¡°Along with a way out,¡± said Adam. ¡°Along with a way out,¡± agreed Lynn. ¡°But like, what do we do about the Kaer and Xargith?¡± asked Sam, directing his gaze at the people ahead of them. ¡°We can¡¯t justleave.Like, they took care of us man. Plus, Kara¡¯s been abducted. As much as she liked to verbally abuse us, I don¡¯t want to just leave her like that.¡± ¡°Yeah,¡± Alen agreed. ¡°It looks like we¡¯re relying on Dieter and granny Drizza on the City too, so it¡¯s best we pay them back. We¡¯ll look for Kara too.¡± Lynn tilted her head at the name. ¡°What¡¯s with the whole Xargith thing, anyways?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know the full details but,¡± Sam glanced around. ¡°It¡¯s a cult, from what I hear.¡± ¡°Really?¡± Alen asked. ¡°Yeah. The Xargith are a race. They¡¯re kind of like the founders of the cult. More races have joined them since then, and now they go by Cult of the Dark One, I think?¡± ¡°That¡¯s kind lame.¡±If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. ¡°It is, but the Dark One really does exist, apparently,¡± Adam added. ¡°Granny Drizza says he appears in their dreams and whoever talks to him comes out changed.¡± ¡°I see,¡± Alen nodded. ¡°So don¡¯t talk to the bad men. Nothing has changed.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t think you¡¯re very good at that, though,¡± Adam said. ¡°You¡¯re right,¡± nodded Alen. ¡°We¡¯ll need Lynn to go first. She looks like she¡¯ll attract the bad men quick.¡± ¡°He¡¯s right,¡± Lynn agreed, nodding towards Alen. ¡°He somehow found me, so I really must attract bad guys.¡± ¡°I¡¯m a great guy.¡± ¡°Now you¡¯re the guy who¡¯s wrong.¡± ¡°Your face is wrong.¡± ¡°It¡¯s actually you¡¯re,¡± Sam corrected. ¡°They¡¯re fucking homonyms. How do you even know which ¡®your¡¯ I meant? ,¡± Alen shook his head. ¡°You arefaceis a homonym,¡± Sam sneered. Adam burst into laughter, and the rest couldn¡¯t help but break out into grins as well. They¡¯d lagged behind the rest of the group by a fair distance, so Adam who was ahead sped up into a jog to catch up. The rest followed after, smiling all the way. ¡°You guys are so stupid,¡± Lynn shook her head. ¡°Get used to it,¡± said Adam. ¡°we¡¯re the dumbest group here.¡± ¡°Are you calling me dumb?¡± Sam frowned. ¡°Reasonably,¡± Alen replied. ¡°No, wait. Unreasonably. I meant to say that you werearguablyintelligent. Kind of like a raccoon, actually. Little bastards.¡± ¡°Raccoons are actually pretty smart,¡± said Sam. ¡°Shut up, Sam. No one likes you,¡± Adam retorted. ¡°But I like me,¡± Sam said, faking defensiveness. ¡°His mom does too,¡± Alen added, ¡°said it herself.¡± ¡°Poor woman,¡± Adam shook his head. Sam looked away, feigning being hurt. The three around him laughed, and the atmosphere around them noticeably lost the tension that it¡¯d had before. A sense of relief washed through Alen. They had changed, but they could still be relied on to not snap under something as simple as tension or pressure. Instead, they chose to laugh in front of it. Alen looked down at the scar on his palm, the one he had given himself in order to snap himself out of his fears back in the Gray Forest. He was alone then. Now, he wasn¡¯t. The though caused another smile to stretch across his face¡ªa twinkle in his eyes that would last him the rest of the now not-so-unbearable journey. ¡ªo¡ª The City of Pillars wasn¡¯t much of a city, and more of a metropolis. When Alen and the others ascended through a large hole in the ceiling and caught sight of the enormous underground pocket ahead, he was expecting something discreet¡ªsomething mysterious. Instead, what he saw stunned him and the three companions that trudged up from behind him. The ceiling was doubly impressive. The crystals that seemed to be everywhere in the Underearth covered it almost entirely. They twinkled with a bright blue light, cascading down onto the lands below. Alen traced the rays of light that dripped down from above and when his eyes met the city standing majestically just a few kilometers ahead of him, he gasped. It was a set of pillars. They stood in a large circular formation, with each one being at least three hundred meters in diameter. The dark, ink-like pillars rose up, into the highest point where the statues that stood above them seemed to hide in a twinkling fog of ever-present mystery. Always in sight, but never enough to make out. At the base of the pillars¡¯ formation was the city itself. Like a disk, the city almost glowed in the light, each brick and stone the color of the calmest grey¡ªdeep, silent, mysterious. Buildings rose from the ground, and even more pillars rose from all around them, the tallest connecting the lowest level of the city to the disk that served as the next level above it, and the shortest serving as platforms to house buildings. Ramps and winding paths rose from the ground without support, seemingly defying gravity and connecting short pillars to the ground and the numerous platforms below. Even from where he was, Alen could almost see the bustling streets and busy roads, lined with columns of people and lizard-like beasts of burden. Each platform above the first was smaller than the last, and it stretched up to seven levels in total. The top platform, like the statues, was obscured by the light fog that lingered around the highest platform, lofty and majestic. In view, but not in sight. A shy silhouette hiding in the night. Alen marveled at the sheer size of it. His three friends were similarly shocked, while the people ahead of them took the chance to admire the great city. Lynn looked up with a childish exhilaration on her face. ¡°This is¡­¡± ¡°Beautiful,¡± a voice finished. They looked to see Dieter, standing beside them with the ball of fire flaring just over his shoulder. It shone brightly, almost as if it was excited. ¡°Whenever I go here, it¡¯s the only word that I can think to describe it.¡± The elf could only nod in agreement to his words. Dieter smiled, but it looked forced. It was no doubt that the matter with Kara still weighed over his mind. Despite that, he tried his best at a grin as he rubbed the stubble on his square jaw. ¡°It looks even more impressive up close. What are you four waiting for? The rest are already moving. Let¡¯s go,¡± said Dieter. Alen didn¡¯t need to be told twice. They basically rushed on the way to the city. With a newfound energy giving their tired, travel-worn legs strength, they sped up. Soon enough, after moving through the Stonewood trees whose leaves glowed with a soft blue light, they arrived in front of a massive gate. It was gilded with flowing designs, and it was thick and strong enough that Alen didn¡¯t doubt for a second that his spells wouldn¡¯t even crack it. They neared the entrance, and from up ahead, their group was blocked by a set of guards. Alen looked around and frowned. Other people were entering too, and they weren¡¯t being blocked by so many guards. Simply inspected by two or three. ¡°What¡¯s happening?¡± He asked the two behind him. Lynn looked back curiously as well, only to see the same look of confusion on Adam and Sam¡¯s faces. ¡°I have no idea,¡± Sam blinked. ¡°I think we¡¯re being denied entry and that we¡¯ll have to kill a demon lord or something to get in. Probably.¡± Adam grabbed Sam¡¯s shoulder and pointed. ¡°The guards are frowning. Look.¡± Sure enough, they were. Lady Drizza stood in front of them, and Razzan and Dieter stood behind her. They were too far to hear what was being heard, but an argument seemed to be taking place. They exchanged looks of worry, but Drizza suddenly brought something out from her pocket that caused the guards to freeze. They stood, shocked, before bowing and making way, leaving the path to the city completely open for them to passed. Passersby looked at them in curiosity as they entered, the inspection that was normally a requirement to gain entry all but forgotten. ¡°What the hell?¡± Alen asked, eyeing the guards that had suddenly seemed to ignore their presence entirely. He sent questioning looks towards Sam and Adam, but they seemed to only know as much as he did, which his look clearly reflected: nothing. Alen pursed his lips and just followed. He stumbled past the crowds of people walking around, barely restraining the urge to just shoot up into the sky and follow his group through the roofs with his magic. In a place like this, it was most likely best for him to keep a low profile. While the buildings were certainly relatively clean and the people none too suspicious, the dark colors that lined that city still gave off a threatening, domineering aura. He gently pushed a person blocking his way aside and moved past. He was fairly tall, so the risk of losing his friends in the crowd wasn¡¯t as bad as it would be if he was someone as tall as Adam. The guy stood half a head shorter than him, and seeing how Alen was barely able to see past the sea of heads, was more worried aboutAdamgetting lost in the city. Some creep would probably drag him off into an alley and molest him or something. Things like that happened in cities. ¡°At least, I think so,¡± Alen murmured. Adam, who was ahead of him turned his head. ¡°What?¡± ¡°Oh, nothing,¡± Alen waved his hand dismissively. ¡°Just don¡¯t get molested. It¡¯d be disgusting. For the molester. Not you. I think you¡¯d even like it.¡± ¡°Screw off,¡± Adam laughed, increasing his pace to catch up to the rest of the group. Alen followed them until they arrived at another set of gates. The same thing as before happened, with the guards ignoring them as if they were ghosts as soon as the old woman showed them whatever she kept in her pocket. She could walk now, at least. Alen had noted her condition throughout the journey, watching if any of her life energy would leak out like before, but she seemed relatively fine. Almost as if she¡¯d never experienced an episode like before. They really hadn¡¯t had the chance to talk. With Deither or Razzan or the granny. The journey was held in a rush. They had kept a constant¡ªalmost rushing¡ªpace. The tunnels and passages they took were out of the way, and every Hunter in the group warily looked around every time they entered a new place, as if they were expecting to be attacked at any moment. The only time Alen had seen them relax was when they had reached the city. They passed through more and more gates. The crowd thinned out, and soon, Alen saw a structure that looked something like station ahead of them, with one of the seven gigantic pillars looming almost threateningly just behind it. Unlike before, however, the guards didn¡¯t ignore them, but instead took the initiative to have their group follow. They were led into a large, circular room. One large enough to fit a near hundred people. It held a collection of large tables, couches, seats, and an assortment of fruits and other kinds of food. Velvet cushions lined the seats, and chandeliers hung from the ceiling, bathing the room in a warm, barely dim light. Alen blinked at the sheer luxuriousness of it for a moment, unsure of what to do. This was not normal. There was no way everyone got treatment like this. Unfazed by the extravagance, Razzan made himself at home. The man pulled out a chair beside the table and sat, placing his legs on the table and leaning back. He closed his eyes impassively and waited. The rest of the villagers streamed into the massive room. They were shocked, and many of them had hard, complicated looks on their faces as they gazed around. Finally, they seemed to make a decision in their heads, wordlessly sitting down on the chairs and couches with grim expressions on their faces. Their big eyes and heads made the look pouty¡ªalmost comical, but Alen felt anything but from their expressions. He spotted Sam and Adam preparing to sit down on a table off to the side and followed. He beckoned Lynn over, and the four of them sat. A moment passed, then the room began to vibrate. It was faint, a little buzz at most, but from the feeling he was getting, Alen knew they were ascending. An elevator?He thought, surprised. A voice rang out from his left. ¡°Okay,¡± Adam said. ¡°Who wants to guess what happens next?¡± ¡°Ooh, I like things like this,¡± grinned Lynn, clapping her hands together. ¡°We¡¯re going up, right? As soon as we reach our destination, we¡¯ll be in an arena with other people, fighting for our lives for the entertainment of the people.¡± ¡°I think,¡± said Sam, solemnly nodding, ¡°that we¡¯re going somewhere.¡± ¡°What are you two on?¡± Adam shook his head. ¡°They¡¯re obviously going to sacrifice us to the dark gods. This room¡¯s a gas chamber.¡± Lynn tilted her head. ¡°A gas chamber?¡± ¡°That¡¯s something we very shouldn¡¯t introduce into this world,¡± said Alen. ¡°We don¡¯t want an elven dictator consuming the entire nation¡¯s food production. Enough people starve on a daily basis. We don¡¯t need a glutton making the situation worse.¡± ¡°You want me to pour cold water down your back in the middle of the night?¡± Lynn threatened him. ¡°Try me. AutoBone¡¯s prank potential is nigh infini¡ª¡° The elf waved her hand and Alen barely held back a surprised squeal as cold water formed inside of his clothes and ran down his back. He breathed deeply, then waved his hand, removing the water with a quick flicker of flame beneath his clothing. The elf stared, smiling smugly at him. Alen glared. ¡°You said middle of the night.¡± ¡°I¡¯m known to surpass expectations.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll have my revenge. You¡¯ve made an enemy today, Lynn. Youwillknow fear.¡± ¡°Coming from you, I¡¯d be learning it at a painfully slow rate.¡± ¡°You¡ª¡° Alen paused, noticing the lack of conversation around him. He looked to the side and found Sam and Adam a fair distance away. They had scooted off, and now, they were huddled together, sneaking glances at him and nodding furiously at each other. He raised an eyebrow and looked at Lynn. ¡°Can you hear what they¡¯re saying?¡± ¡°Nope,¡± she shrugged, ¡°they¡¯re just a bit too far. What are theydoing?¡± ¡°I think it¡¯s a mating ritual. Should we come closer to observe?¡± ¡°Proba¡¯lly noht,¡± said Lynn, taking a bite off of a cube-shaped fruit. It was yellow and had a rough exterior, but from the way the elf took chunks out of it, the surface seemed to be surprisingly soft. Alen plucked something akin to a grape from the basket of fruit on the table and threw it into his mouth. ¡°Fair enough,¡± said Alen. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t want to see them mating either.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t think they don¡¯t have the parts for it.¡± Alen laughed and popped another fruit into his mouth. The room continued to rumble slightly, but instead of discomfort, it even helped him ease down into his chair. Eventually, both his friends returned with a look Alen could only identify as mischief in their eyes. It seemed he was paranoid, though, as the two merely sat down and began chatting with them again. The necromancer shrugged and joined in, passing the time. A half hour later, the low thrum of the room finally came to a halt. The double doors that served as the exit and entrance opened, and a group of guards escorted them out into a courtyard. A large, neat area expanded out, with trimmed bushes and buildings that could be likened to the oriental structures Alen had seen back on earth. The sudden change in atmosphere stunned him, his surroundings a surprising change to the more or less medieval structures that he had seen since coming to the playground of the gods. He, Sam, Adam, and Lynn were led into a house with a group of villagers and taken to rooms that they would apparently be staying at. Meanwhile, the old lady Drizza left, moving deeper into the courtyard with a large number of escorts. Dieter and Razzan stayed behind. Alen watched the old lady through the window until her form disappeared deeper into the courtyard. He raised a brow and turned, about to say something to the rest of his team when the door to their room suddenly opened. Dieter stepped in, then sat down on the floor in front of the door. He gave the four of them a long look with his tired eyes before he let loose a low, exhausted sigh. ¡°We need to talk,¡± he said. Alen had a feeling that he would not like this talk. Book 3, Chapter 8: Marked for Death Necromancer and Co., Book 3: The Underearth
Chapter 8: Marked For Death "And so, he was banished to the sky beneath the earth. Robbed of his powers, he slumbers, waiting for his inevitable awakening."
[Alen] Alen exited the courtyard in silence. The Underearth sky was dark, the crystals that hung from the ceiling silent, asleep. Instead, the glow of the City of Pillars lit up the world below. Alen stood in front of the railings, looking down at the city below. It glowed a warm orange, the buildings and pillars sporting stones that simmered with a fire-like glow. In the streets below, street lamps stood over the empty roads of the upper quarter. Below that was the lower quarter, where the lights of the busy city lip up the silhouettes of the still-active citizens. He leaned on the railings, feeling the cold breeze on his face. It was strange how civilization felt so foreign to him now. He almost couldn¡¯t remember the last time he¡¯d seen a city that struck him with a sense of awe so powerful. Gram? It was a model of practicality. A city erected with the same raison d¡¯etre as that of a fortress. It wasn¡¯t what a prospering center of civilization should¡¯ve looked like. This place? It was art. The city even seemed to breathe in the darkness, every inhalation and exhalation fueling the ever-constant motions of the people that resided within it. This was a city that lived. Alen could appreciate that. And so, he did. The night was surprisingly silent in the upper regions of the City of Pillars. Unlike the bottom, cool, fresh winds swept through the upper quarter. Alen had changed out of his armored robes, so he couldn¡¯t help but shiver. It was cold, and yet, there was a warmth in his chest¡ªa sense of satisfaction. Yet again, he¡¯d seen another view that would stick with him for the rest of his life, however short it would be. He smiled bitterly. Were his thoughts always so dark? It was a change he felt complicated about welcoming. It gave him a sense of urgency. There were no days where he lazed around anymore, not when death was just around the corner. However, he still felt like he¡¯d lost something in the transition. The calm and¡­ normalcy of his usual days were gone. Alen had always wished for an adventure. He never thought he¡¯d reach a point where he just wanted to be bored for once. It was a strange thing; how often he took his old life for granted. He¡¯d been in this world for three months now, and the old homesickness that plagued him had both intensified and faded somehow. It was a weight in his chest, but his goal of coming back home felt so far away that it was almost like a dream. It didn¡¯t feel urgent. He didn¡¯t feel panicked. He felt calm about it. Alen guessed he¡¯d just been too busy to think about it lately. It was a good thing, in his opinion. Better he spent time getting things done that sulking in a corner. His efforts had actually brought him something. His friends. He was far from home, but he¡¯d somehow wrangled a piece of it back. He smiled. Footsteps rang out from behind him. ¡°Hey man,¡± Sam¡¯s familiar voice said. ¡°I know jumping seems like the best choice, but it¡¯s not. Things get better. Keep hoping, and good things will happen. Things like finding a penny on the street. Or getting conned into heavy labor for three dollars an hour. If you¡¯re particularly lucky, you might¡ªmight even land a job as a Starbucks barista.¡± ¡°Starbucks doesn¡¯t exist here,¡± Adam¡¯s voice echoed out from behind them, the young man leaning against the railing to Alen¡¯s left. He wore a simple shirt over some rugged pants, looking quite cold in the consistent breeze of the city¡¯s upper region. He gave Alen a bitter look and shook his head. ¡°You¡¯re screwed, man. There¡¯s no other way of saying it.¡± ¡°Oh,¡± Sam slowly bobbed his head. ¡°He¡¯s right. I think you should jump, Alen. You¡¯re fucked dude.¡± Alen laughed. ¡°I¡¯m already sick and tired of falling from heights. No thanks.¡± ¡°I can always tie you a noose,¡± Adam offered. ¡°My neck¡¯ll chafe.¡± ¡°He¡¯s right, you know,¡± Sam nodded understandingly. ¡°I am,¡± Alen agreed. Adam smiled and looked out at the city below. Silence reigned over the three as they looked down, and for a moment, Alen felt at peace. It reminded him of back home. Sitting in the rooftop as the sun set, surrounded by his friends as they snacked on bags of chips and drank whatever they could get their hands on. Things were a lot simpler then, and even though that simplicity was now a memory, Alen felt that as long as he had people to anchor himself to, he could keep going. Keep walking. Nights like this were great, in his opinion. Silence, peace, and quiet understandi¡ª ¡°So,¡± Adam broke the silence, grinning. ¡°Let¡¯s talk about the elf.¡± Alen groaned. Sam snickered. ¡°I baited the shit out of him man,¡± he said. ¡°You have no idea how surprised I was to see him traveling with a girl, of all things. Like, whoa, dude. I didn¡¯t think he had it in him to talk to the opposite sex.¡± ¡°I didn¡¯t think he had it in him to talk to¡ªmuch less travel with¡ªanyone,¡± Adam added. ¡°Fuck you both.¡± ¡°Hey man, it¡¯s not our fault that you only made like, twelve-something friends who stuck around after a decade,¡± said Sam. ¡°Hush, Sam. That¡¯s unimportant. We¡¯re talking about the elf. The elf,¡± Adam enunciated. ¡°So, we¡¯ve been here for around four months, and you first mentioned her the first week in, I think? That¡¯s a long time, dude. Plenty, even. I¡¯d refuse to believe that nothing happened in those three or so months while you two traveled together, but it¡¯s you, so¡­¡± ¡°There were three of us. Me, Lynn, and Roland.¡± Adam looked at him disdainfully. ¡°You were third-wheeling? Ew.¡± ¡°He¡¯s twenty-four.¡± ¡°And she is?¡± ¡°Nineteen.¡± Adam shook his head sadly. Sam patted Alen on the shoulder. ¡°I hate to break it to you, but she¡¯s on the smashable range for him, man. I¡¯m sorry. We were expecting too much of you.¡± ¡°Can we leave me alone? Please?¡± ¡°We¡¯ve never done that. Like, ever.¡± ¡°It was worth a shot,¡± Alen sighed. ¡°Listen, I have too much shit to worry about to think about that. Like nearly dying. That happens to me a lot. And finding the rest of our group. And uh, getting home and all that shit.¡± ¡°Excuses,¡± Adam shook his head. ¡°Yo dude, I got an idea,¡± Sam excitedly said. ¡°Wingmen.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t,¡± Alen glared. ¡°Stop right there. No. Is this revenge for what Adam and I did to you and that girl in eighth grade? I swear, that was a mistake.¡± ¡°Yooo, that¡¯s a great idea,¡± said Adam, ignoring Alen. Alen sighed and let them prattle on. There was no getting out of it, really. Plus, they never took things too far anyways. It would be a minor annoyance at most. Like a really persistent Adam and Sam-shaped itch. On his eyes and ears. He doubted they¡¯d carry it out anyways. There were too many things they had to take care of. This was just a stress-relieving talk in his expense, most likely. They wouldn¡¯t do it. Would they? The discussion stopped, and Alen raised a brow at the sudden pause. ¡°What¡¯s up?¡± He asked. ¡°Sam just mentioned what Dieter told us,¡± Adam replied. ¡°What do you plan on doing?¡± ¡°I went up here to think about that, actually,¡± said Alen. ¡°I¡­ don¡¯t think I¡¯ll go with him.¡± ¡°Really?¡± ¡°He leaves tomorrow,¡± Alen sighed. ¡°I know he wants to find that Kara girl, but I haven¡¯t had a good rest in months. If I keep going further, joining him in a massive expedition through uncharted territory in the Underearth just after getting here? I can¡¯t do it. I won¡¯t. I can¡¯t handle that much stress, not with how dangerous that trip would be.¡± ¡°Me neither,¡± said Adam. ¡°I¡¯m not trying to be a dick, but I won¡¯t rush into a situation like that and risk my life for a girl I barely know.¡± ¡°So we aren¡¯t looking for her?¡± asked Sam. ¡°No, we will,¡± Alen said. ¡°We owe them at least that much. What I¡¯m not saying is that we won¡¯t do it now. Not so soon. We¡¯ll have to explore this place and find a way out anyway, so we can just look for her while we do that. Right now, though? Let¡¯s rest for once. Recuperate.¡± ¡°Yeah,¡± Adam agreed. ¡°Speaking of resting, it¡¯s eleven hours to morning, Alen. Let¡¯s go to sleep.¡± ¡°I forgot the time of day here was fucked like that.¡± ¡°Forty hours a day, yeah,¡± said Sam. ¡°They wake up like, really early though. Monsters are least active around dusk, apparently, so people want to make the most of it to explore and gain some money by mapping uncharted areas.¡± ¡°We¡¯ll do that too, I guess,¡± Alen said. ¡°I don¡¯t know if we¡¯ll stay around this courtyard for long, but we have to eat too. There¡¯s also equipment to worry about. I can always make newer, stronger robes, but I need someone to put this gem into a staff,¡± he said, reaching into his robes to retrieve a small, thumb-sized stone that glowed with an emerald light. ¡°Magic stone or mana stone?¡± Sam asked, curious. ¡°There¡¯s a difference? All I know is that it¡¯s of a Necrotic type.¡± ¡°That¡¯s cool,¡± he yawned, ¡°and yeah. I¡¯ll tell you about it tomorrow. I¡¯m going to crash,¡± he said, stretching. Sam gave both of them a final nod before walking off, heading back to the courtyard with his blue robes lazily billowing in accordance to the breeze that blew against him. ¡°Well, I¡¯m out too,¡± Adam said, the yawning infecting him too. ¡°If you could do me a favor and jump off the ledge after I leave, it¡¯d be great.¡± ¡°Sure thing,¡± Alen noncommittally replied, smiling lightly at the city below. ¡°Aight,¡± Adam said, walking off. ¡°See ya dude.¡± ¡°See you,¡± Alen yawned, alone once again. Adam paused behind him, then slowly spoke. ¡°If you ever need to talk about anything, me and Sam are always there. I know we joke a lot, but you can trust us with the serious stuff too, okay?¡± ¡°Yeah,¡± Alen said. ¡°I¡¯ll talk to you guys about it eventually. Over some drinks?¡± ¡°Sure,¡± Adam smiled, then left. Alen turned his back on the city and leaned back against the railing. He tilted his head upwards and took a long, drawn out breath. ¡°I had to mention it,¡± Alen sighed, ¡°I really need a drink right now,¡± he said, staring up at the dark sky above. Alen glanced down at the ledge and pursed his lips. Was it worth it? Alen shrugged, clambered up the railing, spared a second to admire the city one last time, and then, he jumped. The fall was¡­ invigorating, now that he had a guarantee that he wouldn¡¯t turn into a red blotch on the ground below. The lights of the pillars and towers turned into blurs, looking like cars speeding past a civilian on the highway. The cool breeze that roamed the entirety of the Underearth swept past him with a howl, and as he descended farther and farther, Alen felt a rush of excitement thrum inside of his chest, the beating of his heart roaring within his ears.This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there. He¡¯d had powers¡ªmagic for so long that he almost couldn¡¯t believe that he¡¯d never just¡­ let loose. Winding ramp passages rolled and twisted all around the city, leading to the upper and lower levels. Alen fell past one, five meters shy of hitting it. His eyes scanned the ground below, and with the perception his Intelligence stat granted him, he could still pay attention to the tiny details as time seemed to come to a slow. The mother walking home with her child, the group of drunkards disappearing into the alley¡­ Everything was alive. The City of Pillars wasn¡¯t a place that was lived in, no. It was a place that lived. It breathed and exhaled, and the people within it served as the blood of the city, keeping the place alive by circulating through it. Resources, money, favors, it all cycled around endlessly. Alen took in a breath. It was fresh, and it smelled of baked bread. A bakery stood below him, rushing to meet his descent. The necromancer smiled and with a surge of his magic, a keratin parachute exploded out of his back and slowed his descent. With a soft tap, Alen landed on the roof of the building, the parachute disintegrating behind him. He jumped off from the roof on the building into a side alley, descending a good fifteen feet on the way down. Aside from a relatively awkward stumble upon landing, he barely felt any pain, much less any broken bones¡ªan effect of the stats that he had been raising for so long. Alen cupped his chin. Assuming physics worked the same and this world had terminal velocity, then maybe his last fall into the water wouldn¡¯t have killed him? No, he would¡¯ve been gravely injured if Lynn hadn¡¯t stopped the fall. He could imagine it, his legs broken as he slowly drifted down into the dark abyss. Alen shuddered and shook his head. With a glance outside, he stepped out of the alley and entered the bakery. Alen noted the people inside. A group of late-night workers, likely in an administrative role, a hooded man, sitting alone near the window, and a group of people his age clustered around a table, playing a game of sorts. Alen suppressed the curiosity he felt and walked up to the counter, where a young girl with short barbs and horns protruding out from her forehead and cheeks. ¡°Hello,¡± Alen greeted, pointing at a piece of bread depicted in the menu. It looked like a baguette, if baguettes were made out of cotton candy and clouds. Interest piqued, he smiled at the young girl and nodded at the illustration. ¡°Can I get one of these?¡± ¡°Sure thing,¡± the girl beamed, showing small, white teeth. She disappeared into the interior, and came back soon after with a dark paper bag in her hands. She gave it to Alen. ¡°That will be¡­¡± she counted on her fingers, ¡°seven kris!¡± Alen reached into his pocket and stopped. ¡°What?¡± ¡°Seven kris! No other place in the city charges so little for bread this good, mister. Give ours a try and you might even add another minute to your lifespa¡ª¡± ¡°Wait,¡± said Alen, panicking. ¡°Crap, uh, do you accept these?¡± he said, bringing out Redarian coins from his pocket. He regretted his choice as soon as they clattered onto the table. ¡°Ooooh,¡± the little girl crowed, ¡°I¡¯ve never seen coins like these before. What metals are these? Orin? I don¡¯t know many metals, let me call my dad! I¡¯m sure he can recognize it. He was a metalforger once before, you know.¡± ¡°No, you don¡¯t¡ª¡° Alen¡¯s shoulders sagged as the little girl disappeared into the kitchen once again. When she came out, a lanky middle-aged man followed behind her. For someone who used to be what Alen assumed to be a blacksmith, he looked more like a housewife. Clean-shaven, pink apron, and wooden ladle. He raised a brow at Alen as he approached. ¡°I haven¡¯t taught little Mila everything I know¡ªfar from it, but she should at least be able to identify what common metals look like,¡± he began, studying Alen up and down. Nodding once, he extended his hand out. ¡°May I?¡± ¡°Well¡ª¡° The man¡¯s hands flashed, and faster than even Alen¡¯s mind could register, he plucked the coins from his grip. Alen¡¯s eyes constricted, and he backed away, wary. The man pain him no heed, instead studying the coins in his hands. He frowned and murmured something under his breath. Alen began inching towards the door when the man looked up at him. ¡°Wait,¡± he said, his daughter looking up at the both of them. Alen winced and considered running, but he had no doubt that this man would probably catch up to him easily. He kept his distance, though, his mana running through his clothes, ready to retaliate. ¡°¡­What is it?¡± he asked. ¡°These coins are¡­ very interesting,¡± the man looked up at him, a glint in his eyes. He pointed at a table to the side and motioned for Alen to follow. Reluctantly, he did. The man continued to speak as if he didn¡¯t notice his discomfort. ¡°The material is nothing like the ones in the Underearth,¡± he spoke, sitting down. ¡°Bronze, if I¡¯m correct?¡± ¡°Copper,¡± Alen carefully said, sitting down across the man, a window to his left just in case he needed to bolt. The man laughed loudly, pushing the coins into his pocket. ¡°I see, I see. Excellent. I haven¡¯t made an incorrect identification in decades. Did you know that? It matters not. Mila, hand this young man what he ordered. If he wants anything else, consider it on the house,¡± he ordered, and his daughter immediately nodded, standing at attention in front of the counter. ¡°And you,¡± he nodded at Alen, lowering his voice, ¡°if you have any other samples of¡­ rare metals, come here and I¡¯ll see if I can forge you something. I am retired due to certain circumstances however, so we¡¯ll keep it clandestine, alright? No complicated orders, either.¡± Alen pursed his lips. ¡°You obviously aren¡¯t the typical city man,¡± said Alen, remembering the man¡¯s speed, ¡°but if you¡¯re really what you say you are, why are you baking bread?¡± ¡°Many reasons. Complicated ones,¡± the man said, waving the question off. ¡°Regardless, my reputation is very concrete. I do not lie. Craftsman¡¯s promise,¡± the man nodded, as if his words alone were a guarantee. ¡°Where were we? Yes, the metal. Quite the interesting sample, I must say. Doesn¡¯t seem to be made here, but it¡¯s certainly not old. Newly made, if anything. Say, you¡¯re a new arrival, aren¡¯t you? How much did you pay to enter this district?¡± He frowned. ¡°Yes, it¡¯s the¡­ recent currency where I¡¯m from,¡± Alen said. Not a lie, but it would lead the man to assume that it had come from his old world¡ªa much easier conclusion to arrive at compared to a person finding their way into the gods¡¯ prison for the races that had sinned. He hesitated at the latter half of the man¡¯s words, however. Gauging the man¡¯s reaction, Alen spoke. ¡°As for the second question, I don¡¯t feel compelled to answer.¡± ¡°So you didn¡¯t pay,¡± the man smiled. ¡°Interesting. A new arrival. That explains where you got this coin, then. However, what piques my curiosity is the fact that you ended up here.¡± ¡°What do you mean?¡± ¡°You don¡¯t have that lost look in your eyes like most fresh new arrivals do, so I¡¯m certain you haven¡¯t just appeared in the plaza outside,¡± said the man, ¡°and I¡¯ve seen enough to know, which means that you¡¯ve been in the Underearth for a good amount of time already. Tell me, how is it that you don¡¯t know anything about this city? Like the fact that seven kris is horrendously expensive for a piece of bread¡ª¡° Alen¡¯s eyes widened. He glared at the little girl named Mila. She smiled brightly. ¡°¡ªand that in the middle district, the entrance fee is enough to empty the coffers of most families in the lower end? Forgive me when I say this, but you don¡¯t exactly look rich. I may have offered a good deal for your coins, but that¡¯s because the material is rare. Copper, from my memory, is far weaker than any other metal in the Underearth. No sane forger would buy it for any other purpose besides curiosity.¡± Alen frowned. He didn¡¯t feel any hostile intent from the man, but he wasn¡¯t sure if that would last if he let it slip that he was from the surface. ¡°I don¡¯t see why that¡¯s important. I only went out for a drink,¡± he said, breaking the flow of the conversation, ¡°so I¡¯ll be heading back home.¡± He stood, then walked for the door. ¡°My previous offer still stands,¡± the man said. ¡°My name is Talesin, quasi-master forger. I¡¯m well-known around these parts. Look for me.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll see,¡± Alen gave a noncommittal reply, stepping out of the front door. Talesin said nothing more. As he walked, Alen cursed himself in his head. He¡¯d left out of fear of having his connection to the surface find out, which would definitely lead to problems further down the line, but he forgot to take advantage of the man¡¯s offer to take anything on the house. Moreover, he¡¯d forgotten that the currency used in Redaria wasn¡¯t viable to use here, even if Sandsea-based traders accepted Redarian coins. So now, not only did he come without money, but he might have even caused problems for himself further down the line. All because he wanted to go out for a drink he wasn¡¯t even capable of getting. ¡°Stupid, stupid, stupid,¡± he muttered, cursing under his breath. He looked at the wrapped bread in his hands and sighed, indignantly biting into it as he walked. It was soft, melting in his mouth. Fresh. Sweet. Minty like morning dew, but somehow managing to retain the taste of well-made bread. It was a good make, but Alen couldn¡¯t bring himself to appreciate it. Alen saw one of the roads that led up to the higher regions of the city a few kilometers ahead and felt his head begin to ache. If what Talesin said was true, and that the middle parts of the city required an exorbitant entry fee, then what about the top levels? Alen didn¡¯t recall getting any identification, so what if he was denied entry? Where the hell was he supposed to sleep? ¡°Fuck,¡± he cursed. They¡¯d entered the top level so easily that something like that had completely passed his mind. Alen turned a corner, then looked up as a shadow loomed over him. A hooded figure. The one at the bakery, his mind immediately registered, his guard flaring up. If this man had seen his coins and discovered his lies, then¡­! The figure reached out. Alen¡¯s boots exploded. He shot back, his feet dragging across the polished street. Immediately, he¡¯d increased the distance between him and the figure. Alen pointed his palm at the stranger, black and white Deathfire burning on his fingertips. ¡°Stay back,¡± Alen warned, ¡°or else.¡± The silhouette of the man stood still, the warm, flame-like lights of the glowing stones above casting a shadow over his face. The man breathed an audible sigh, and Alen watched as he reached up and removed his hood. Red scales, golden pupils, and long, leathery hair. ¡°No way,¡± Alen sucked in a breath, eyes widening in surprise. ¡°Alexandrius?¡± The lizardman in front of him frowned, gaze sharpening. ¡°You,¡± he said, voice soft and velvety, ¡°how do you know that name?¡± Alen held his arm in front of him defensively, Deathfire burning on his sleeve. It drained his mana, but the effect was clear. Even from afar, it seemed that the lizardman could sense the powerful aura that radiated off of it, similarly keeping a wary stance. Alen studied him. Same eyes, same scales, but there were differences. This man had a wider lower mouth, giving him something close to an underbite. Tattoos and scars peppered his face, the markings glowing golden even under the light of the lamps above. Not Alexandrius, he thought, breathing a sigh of relief. ¡°Who are you?¡± asked Alen. ¡°I asked the question first,¡± the lizardman spoke, his voice almost a whisper, and yet, fully understandable despite the distance between them. Alen licked his dry lips, staring at the man. He really didn¡¯t want to get into a fight. Not when it wasn¡¯t clear how strong his opponent was. He decided to try his hand on talking. ¡°I worked with him once,¡± said Alen, carefully, ¡°Alexandrius, I mean. In the Sandsea. He hired us to help with his expedition into the Crawling Canyon.¡± ¡°Us?¡± asked the man. ¡°Came with two others. Got separated from one when we first got here.¡± ¡°And Alexandrius?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± Alen shook his head. ¡°We retreated into a temple after getting injured and activated what I assumed was a teleportation circle. Alexandrius stayed outside, fighting a Manticore.¡± ¡°Did you bring my blade?¡± ¡°Your blade?¡± Alen¡¯s brows furrowed as he tried to recall. He remembered it. The blade. Resting against the wall, red like magma. Tirilius, the elf traveling with the Cava¡¯tal, had mentioned its name; the Drakeslayer. He shook his head. ¡°We didn¡¯t bring the Drakeslayer.¡± ¡°Good,¡± the lizardman said, pulling his hood back up. Wordlessly, he turned, and began walking away. ¡°What? Hey, wait!¡± Alen called out. ¡°You¡¯re from the same place as I am, right!? Have you found a way out? Who the hell are you?¡± ¡°Vexxaron of the Cava¡¯tal,¡± said the man, flicking a coin in his hand. Alen recognized the glint of the Redarian gold coin almost immediately. ¡°Be careful where you bring those Redarian coins out,¡± Vexxaron said. ¡°Not every person is as cooperative as Talesin, despite how stubborn he is about his current predicament. As for a way out?¡± The man stopped walking, then glanced back at him. ¡°Where do you think we are, right now?¡± ¡°The Underearth,¡± Alen said. ¡°I don¡¯t know how far, but we should be below the continent, right?¡± Vexxaron shook his head. ¡°If we were simply below, they would¡¯ve dug a way out of this place already. They¡¯ve had ten thousand years, after all. The gods have put them in a place no mortal can escape from. Much like new arrivals like you are stuck in the playground of the gods, these people are trapped here, in the Underearth.¡± Alen felt something click into place in the back of his head. A book he¡¯d once read in the Draenys library in his search for clues on how to get home. ¡°No,¡± he said in disbelief, ¡°then the only way back is¡­¡± ¡°To tear a hole through dimensions. To open a portal back home,¡± Vexxaron confirmed. ¡°It¡¯s what those lunatics in the Cult of the Dark One are trying to do; to awaken a deity that might not even exist in order to open a way back into the largest of the Mortal Realms.¡± ¡°That¡¯s why they¡¯re killing the priests?¡± ¡°Priests? Ah,¡± Vexxaron faced him, ¡°you mean the chosen.¡± ¡°The what?¡± ¡°Chosen. Champions. Priests. Representatives. The god-touched. People who have received the attention of a deity. Like me,¡± he said, pointing to the glowing tattoos on his face, ¡°and like you.¡± His finger pointed at Alen, and immediately, the gem in the necromancer¡¯s chest pulsed. The flames on Alen¡¯s arm flared in response, roaring a soundless roar. Alen immediately cut the flow of his magic, and slowly, the gem¡¯s pulse¡ªlike the beating of a heart, weakened. The Deathfire sputtered once, twice, before finally dying. ¡°You¡¯d best be careful, newly chosen,¡± Vexxaron warned. ¡°Your aura is still weak¡ªnot enough for a sacrificial rite just yet, but other chosen like me are bound to notice if you don¡¯t take measures to hide it. The worshippers of the Dark One are hunting down ones like us. Stay away from one of their chosen at all costs, or you¡¯ll be marked for death.¡± Alen felt a cold feeling settle in his chest. ¡°¡­Who are these chosen?¡± ¡°I only know of three,¡± the lizardman admitted, ¡°Slayh, Voluura, and Sieth. There are more, but they appear far less. None know their names. Stay safe,¡± Vexxaron said, nodding at him one last time. The lizardman turned his back and began to walk. Alen quietly watched him leave. Sieth. That woman in the forest¡ªthe one that nearly killed him¡ªhad mentioned his name. Alen remembered the man who had stood in front of Grizelda. The one who had led the attack. His words rung out in Alen¡¯s head. We are not finished, necromancer. Far from it, the man had told him, There is a role in this you have yet to play. Slowly, he reached into the inside of his mental space. ¡°Selerius?¡± Yes? The lich responded, no doubt aware of his previous exchange. ¡°¡­Was that man in the village a chosen?¡± Yes. The voice rang out clear in his mind, the lich¡¯s calm voice betraying the severity of the news he¡¯d just delivered to his new host. It almost echoed, reflecting off the walls of the buildings around him. Suddenly, he felt exposed, as if a dagger could sink into his back at any moment. All of a sudden, the lights of the city felt too dim, and the middle of the street stretched too open. He was a sitting duck to the true powers. A stationary target. A chill crept down Alen¡¯s spine when he remembered the look Seith had given him. He had to leave, and he had to get stronger quick, because another fatal threat had just made its way into his life. ¡°Fuck,¡± Alen hissed, before breaking into a sprint towards the upper districts.
Book 3, Chapter 9: Almost Necromancer and Co., Book 3: The Underearth
Chapter 9: Almost "The City of Pillars is all connected through stalagmites of beautifully carved obsidian pillars, but in the same way, the mysterious Cloud District is disconnected from the rest--a stalactite to watch over, where water drips to feed the growth of the stalagmite below. However, one thing is different. The two will never meet--never connect."
[Lynn] It was in the middle of the night when she¡¯d heard a voice in her head. Familiar, bringing with it a twinge of annoyance as she stirred lightly in her sleep. ¡°Lynn,¡± it said, hurried. She twisted in her sheets, groaning. ¡°Lynn. You there? Lynn.¡± The elf let out a disgruntled noise, somewhere between a grunt and a monosyllabic complaint. She pulled her sheets over her head, then covered her long, delicate ears with the soft pillow the room had provided for her. ¡°Lynn,¡± it repeated, then paused. ¡°She¡¯s not waking up. Hm.¡± A moment of peace passed, and the elf smiled lightly beneath her pillow. ¡°Lynn Lynn Lynn Lynn Lynn Lynn Lynn Ly¡ª¡° Lynn¡¯s eyes snapped open and she immediately brought up the blue screen, staring at it with bloodshot eyes. She glared, then pressed down on the button to reply. ¡°What,¡± she spoke, slowly, ¡°do you want?¡± ¡°Oh, hi. Okay. So the joke goes like this: knock knock.¡± She felt the corner of her eye twitch. ¡°I¡¯m going back to sleep.¡± ¡°Wait, wait! I was joking! I actually need help! I¡¯m stuck in the middle district and I can¡¯t get back into the upper one. Can you uh, get someone to help me get back up? Has Granny Drizza come back yet?¡± Lynn considered leaving him to sleep on the street, but she doubted he¡¯d leave her alone. She sighed and reached out for her band, but stopped. Tying her hair back up would be too much of a hassle. With another sigh, she stood up and began changing out of her sleepwear. ¡°How did you even get stuck down there? Don¡¯t tell me the guards just let you pass the gates without checking for any identification? How could they not remember your face?¡± she asked, pulling a shirt on. ¡°I uh, jumped off the edge of some railings to get a drink. I didn¡¯t want to walk, so I figured it¡¯d be faster.¡± ¡°Didn¡¯t you say you hated falling?¡± ¡°Correction, I hate dying. Falling without a parachute? Scary shit. Falling with a parachute? Awesome.¡± ¡°I hate getting woken up,¡± complained Lynn, checking herself in the mirror. Her hair was down, and she didn¡¯t have her armor on. She felt a bit embarrassed, thinking of walking out of such an expensive-looking house wearing such travel-worn clothes, but she didn¡¯t have much of a choice. Alen¡¯s voice rang out in her mind again, coaxing. ¡°I have a consolation prize,¡± he said, as if enticing a pair of children to enter an alleyway with him. ¡°What?¡± ¡°A half-eaten piece of bread.¡± ¡°I think the street would serve as a great bed for you, now that I think about it,¡± She said, starting to take off the shoes she¡¯d put on. ¡°I was joking!¡± She sighed and stood up, heading for the door. ¡°Only a third of the bread¡¯s been eaten. I¡¯m generous like that.¡± Lynn glared at the blue screen. ¡°Do you want to be left outside?¡± ¡°Correction, it¡¯s not bread. It¡¯s good bread, you see. Real nice and fresh out of the oven. Completely worth the trip,¡± he said. She could already imagine him nodding to himself. ¡°If you come here and save me from being taken advantage of by old men waiting in the dark, I¡¯ll really appreciate it. Enough to share my bread.¡± She let him prattle on, walking out of the house. She shivered in the cool breeze. Lynn indignantly trudged through the blowing wind, hugging herself. The guards to the courtyard let her through without a word, handing her a small token. She slipped it into her pocket. ¡°If the bread isn¡¯t good, I swear you¡¯re going to regret doing this to me,¡± she lamely threatened. ¡°The bread¡¯s excellent. Nutritious, even. It¡¯s bread. Real nice for adding some meat to your bones. You¡¯d need it, really. I know elves are fabled to be lacking in the endowment department, and I¡¯m glad you¡¯ve risen above your peers, but there¡¯s always room for improvement, you know?¡° ¡°How would you even know?¡± she asked, a bit defensively. ¡°My armor gets in the way. You probably haven¡¯t even seen any in your life.¡± ¡±You see, there¡¯s this thing back where I used to live called the internet. Wonderful place.¡± She raised a brow. ¡°A red light district? How disappointing.¡± ¡°Oh, how many men would kill for it to be so. Nope. It¡¯s completely different. Hard to explain, though. I haven¡¯t told you much about my old world, have I?¡± ¡°Nope. I never asked, either. You looked homesick enough on your own.¡± ¡°Really? You could see that? Damn. Ah well, I¡¯m more or less fine now. You can ask about anything whenever. I¡¯d be glad to find something to talk about besides how to handle the next problem, for once.¡± ¡°I suppose we do struggle a lot, don¡¯t we?¡± she said, descending down a winding road. Even on the district she was on, the courtyard they stayed in was on the higher end of everything. She briefly wondered who the world that unassuming old woman named Drizza was. She spotted the gate in the distance, the silhouette of a young man seemingly talking to himself just outside, barred by two guards a distance away. ¡°That¡¯s the biggest understatement I¡¯ve ever heard,¡± he complained. ¡°How many people do you know get caught up in a tidal wave of angry undead? Pissing off the Cava¡¯tal? Getting stuck for a month on the back of that stupid centipede? Hell, finding themselves here, of all places? If these are everyday occurrences in this world, then we might as well go after the Cult of the Dark One right now.¡± ¡°I¡¯m at the gate,¡± said Lynn. ¡°Get over here. And what in the gods is the Cult of the Dark One?¡± ¡°Long story,¡± Alen said, and she looked up at the screen. He stood in front of two stoic guards, waving at her. ¡°I¡¯ll tell you about it later. For now, tell them to let me in?¡± ¡°He¡¯s with me,¡± she sighed, flashing them the token. ¡°We came here with Granny Drizza.¡± ¡°Lady Drizza,¡± a guard corrected her, gruff. They said no more, pulling back the halberds blocking Alen¡¯s way. He grinned at them and stepped through. He walked up to Lynn and held a bag out to her. ¡°Here¡¯s your consolation prize. Congratulations.¡± She took it and pulled out the bread, indignantly biting into it. She turned her back to him and started heading back to the courtyard. He fell into step behind her. ¡°See? Good bread. You can¡¯t deny it.¡± ¡°I¡¯m denying it.¡± ¡°What? It¡¯s great.¡± ¡°You¡¯re souring the taste,¡± she said, extending an arm to push him a couple steps back. ¡°Ah, you¡¯re right. It¡¯s much better now.¡± ¡°I¡¯m offended,¡± he said, crossing his arms. ¡°Good,¡± she smiled, tearing off a piece of the unbelievably soft bread and tossing it into her mouth. It melted, fresh and sweet, tasting almost like fresh river water as it ran down her throat. ¡°So,¡± she said, before he could retort, ¡°what¡¯s this about some cult?¡± ¡°Well, it¡¯s a long story.¡± ¡°You¡¯ve already woken me up. Might as well stay awake until morning. Come on then, out with it. We have all night.¡± ¡°What? What about my beauty sleep?¡± ¡°It jumped off a cliff with mine after you decided to wake me up,¡± she flatly said. ¡°That isn¡¯t fair,¡± he groaned. ¡°I brought you bread.¡± ¡°And now I¡¯m eating it,¡± she mocked, tossing the last of the bread into her mouth. He sighed and relented. ¡°Fine, then. So, where do I start? Uh, my first week in the canyon? Nearly getting killed by a snake the size of a train? After I got some god named Thagathos¡¯s interest and completed a deadly trial in my mind? Soul? Whatever. Oh, right. There¡¯s this lich named Selerius living in my head, who¡¯s apparently a loan shark too¡ª¡° Lynn coughed at the sudden string of words, her chewing interrupted. She staggered to the side and turned to face him, incredulous. ¡°You¡¯re joking,¡± she said. ¡°Nope,¡± he crossed his arms, almost smug. ¡°You got the interest of a god,¡± she spoke slowly. Maybe she¡¯d heard wrong. Thagathos? The god of death? Wasn¡¯t his champion the one that went on a rampage a few years ago? The one with thousands of vicious mortals waiting to do his bidding? There was no way he¡¯d talk to Alen, of all people. She looked at him, waiting for his confirmation. ¡°Yes,¡± Alen confirmed, but quickly deflated. ¡°And that¡¯s not even the worst bit. So these cultists? They¡¯re the ones that attacked the village. Gathering god¡¯s chosen and killing them, apparently. We¡¯ve encountered one of their uh, major characters, and he¡¯s kind of after me now, I think. Something about waiting for my strength to increase before he sacrifices me to pseudo-Voldemort.¡± ¡°Who¡¯s¡ªno,¡± she stopped. ¡°You aren¡¯t joking? Completely serious?¡±The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. He sighed. ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°This isn¡¯t good.¡± ¡°No shit.¡± ¡°What are you going to do?¡± ¡°Well, find a way out of here. I¡¯ll try not to die, either. That should be high up in the priority list too. Another should be getting stronger real fast. Fast enough to catch Seith off guard so that when he finds me, I¡¯ll be able to kick his ass and fuck him sideways,¡± said Alen, making rude gestures with his hands. ¡°That¡¯s it?¡± ¡°Yeah. I mean, what else am I supposed to do?¡± ¡°Aren¡¯t you scared?¡± Lynn asked, checking his expression. Same expression. Same light smile. She frowned at his lack of worry. ¡°You felt how strong he was. Alen, a whole cult¡¯s after you.¡± ¡°I know,¡± he said, then sighed, scratching the back of his head. He plopped down on the side of the road, sitting on the fiery, faintly glowing grass that lined the side of the streets. He looked up at her sourly, the smile on his face bitter. ¡°Of course I¡¯m scared. If anything, I just about shat my pants on the way to the upper district. It¡¯s just that I have to simplify things you know? Get stronger, kick big bad evil guy¡¯s ass. Find a way out. Get home. Sounds easier, right?¡± She sat down beside him, unsure of what to say. He was right. What else could they do? They certainly couldn¡¯t talk to the man. Finding a way out was difficult enough, and now this? Lynn felt wronged. It was unfair, how things only seemed to get worse as the days passed. Her brows creased into a frown. ¡°You have really bad luck,¡± she said, quietly. ¡°I know,¡± he said, ¡°but hey. We have two more people on the team now. If we can find Roland, we can be a whole crew of five, fighting off evil. Justice and all that idealistic crap.¡± Lynn sighed. ¡°I¡¯m tired.¡± ¡°Yeah. Me too. We¡¯re taking a break for a few days before we start getting busy again.¡± ¡°Shouldn¡¯t we get started as soon as possible?¡± ¡°I¡¯m a natural born procrastinator,¡± he grinned, and she smiled lightly. He nodded at that, his work apparently done. ¡°Say, I found a good-ass bakery in my little stroll a while ago. He¡¯s something like a blacksmith too, apparently, so I¡¯m headed there tomorrow to see if I can get a staff made. A bit risky with the deal I¡¯m going to pull, but I don¡¯t really have much of a choice.¡± He paused, then glanced at her from the side. She caught it and gave him a look. Alen pursed his lips for a moment, then shrugged. ¡°You uh, down to come with?¡± he asked. She thought for a moment. He¡¯d asked her, instead of assuming she¡¯d do what she wanted to like she usually did. It wasn¡¯t a simple mention, but an offer. Lynn was aware of how he felt, of course. Maybe even before his friend somehow wrangled it out of him. As for her? She didn¡¯t really know. She certainly didn¡¯t mind his company, and she certainly didn¡¯t have a reason to decline. Lynn gave him a long look and came to a decision. ¡°How do you say that phrase? I¡¯m down?¡± she asked, and he nodded. ¡°I¡¯m down,¡± said Lynn. ¡°Your treat?¡± ¡°Do I have a choice?¡± he asked, voice hopeful. She brushed her hair away from her face and smiled. ¡°Nope.¡± ¡°Fine,¡± he relented, then gave her a look. ¡°You aren¡¯t wearing your hair up today, actually,¡± he noted. ¡°I got lazy,¡± she shrugged. ¡°That scrunchie¡¯s getting old anyway, I¡¯m thinking of just leaving my hair like this from now on,¡± Lynn paused. ¡°It doesn¡¯t look bad, does it?¡± ¡°How do you like your compliments?¡± he asked. ¡°Awkward. It¡¯s endearing.¡± ¡°It reminds me of freshly straightened, summertime pubic hair,¡± he said, and she laughed, standing up. Lynn pulled him up with her. ¡°Well, let¡¯s get going,¡± she said. ¡°What, now?¡± ¡°What else do you propose we do until everyone else wakes up?¡± ¡°I dunno, sleep?¡± ¡°Nonsense,¡± she shook her head, then began walking forward. She walked under the fiery lights of the City of Pillars, her white hair bathed in the glow. Her steps were silent, practiced; a mark of the life she¡¯d lived. His were too, now that she thought about it. He¡¯d changed a lot since their first meeting, but she was glad that despite everything, he stayed the same person at his core. She wasn¡¯t sure where they¡¯d go, being stuck in the Underearth, but with the people she had with her, somehow she felt that finding a way out wasn¡¯t as impossible as it seemed after all. ¡ªo¡ª Lynn idly gazed out of the window, the empty courtyard greeting her line of sight. It was as large as a village, littered by numerous pagoda-like houses, but most of the people inside had yet to come out. She rested her cheek on her hand and leaned forward, yawning. Lazily, she rested her shoulder against a wooden beam that supported the house they¡¯d been assigned to in the upper district. Above, the crystals in the ceiling began to light up one by one, bathing the now-blue grass below in an otherworldly glint. She rubbed her eyes, recalling her trip to the bakery the night before. It was nice, simply put. The building was cozy, situated just off a corner leading to a plaza, it was nestled between an ascending road and a large, closed building she didn¡¯t pay much attention to. The lighting was bright like the flames of a hearth, and the smooth Stonewood furniture had been refined so that only the inner layers were utilized in the creation of the table, creating a soft, woody exterior. The seats had been cushioned as well, a benefit she hadn¡¯t enjoyed since visiting Draenys in Redaria. She couldn¡¯t enjoy that however, as the shop had closed by the time they¡¯d arrived. She¡¯d opted to drag Alen around the city in search of food stalls instead. Lynn lied down on the wooden floor, her feet dangling over the edge of the slightly elevated platform. The stroll was nice, she remembered, but she couldn¡¯t really appreciate it as much when her eyes kept threatening to close shut. While her attributes had more or less lessened her need for sleep, her current condition was more from a want to sleep than a biological must have. She sighed, and door behind her slid open, a young man with brown hair stepping out. Adam, she noted, remembering his name. He looked down at her sprawled form, a brow raised. ¡°What are you doing out here this early?¡± he asked. ¡°Alen,¡± she said, more of a complaint than an answer. ¡°Woke me up in the middle of the night to fetch him on the entrance to the upper district because he left without an identity token. Couldn¡¯t fall back asleep after.¡± Adam laughed and let her be, walking away with his hands in his pockets. She watched him leave, and when she saw that he¡¯d disappeared through a bathroom, she stood up and stretched, taking a deep inhalation of air. Lynn looked around the courtyard. It was silent, and the fiery grass from the night before had now turned a dark aquamarine, as if she was looking down at an empty ocean from above. Lynn pushed the hair out of her face, tucking it behind her ear. She smoothed her clothes out, then looked outside. Not much to do, she realized, again. Alen had left for the bakery and she¡¯d opted to stay behind, but there wasn¡¯t really much for her to do. She considered checking out the branch of the Hunter¡¯s Lodge in the lower region of the city, but decided against it. Whatever she needed to register in there, be it money or an identity, she didn¡¯t have. She waved her hand, and a Redarian gold coin appeared on her palm, glinting in the light. Her lips pursed. She¡¯d been extremely stingy with her money before, but now she couldn¡¯t even use it now. Feeling wronged, she headed for the room where Dieter had retired into the night before. If there was someone she could talk to, it would be one of the Hunters. Before she could call out however, a commotion began just outside of the courtyard. She turned her head, and simultaneously, the door behind her opened. Dieter stepped out, followed by Razzan and a hunter she didn¡¯t recognize. They stepped past her urgently, headed for the gate. Razzan gave her a small nod as he passed. Lynn followed. Already, as she arrived, a crowd of villagers had already gathered in front of the entrance. More came in, exiting the houses and running towards the opened gates to view the scene outside. She squeezed her way past some villagers and looked over the heads of the a few short others, and what greeted her was something that caused her to look on blankly, stunned. A woman was outside, surrounded by guards. Lynn took a second to recognize the woman who looked to be in her forties. It was Granny¡ªno, Lady Drizza who stood in front of an extravagant carriage. It floated off of the ground, sigils glowing just beneath it and causing it to float inches above the road. Two large, eel-like creatures were linked to it, similarly floating off the ground. They twisted and coiled and spun, but they never failed avoid getting tangled together. The two eels hissed, but kept their heads lowered, avoiding looking at the previously unsuspecting old lady. Lady Drizza wore a gold-colored ceremonial robe, and if it wasn¡¯t for the features of her face that stuck, no one would have been able to recognize her. Her hair was straight and black, her figure standing tall, back no longer hunched. Glimmering pieces of jewelry hung from her robes, and when she walked forward, they flowed with the fabric¡ªan river of gems in an ocean of gold. She stood in front of her people, and her eyes were kindly, albeit sad. Lady Drizza scanned the crowd, and she nodded. ¡°We¡¯ve returned,¡± she said, and the area was suddenly blanketed in silence. Instead of joyful however, it felt somber. As if a sacrifice had just been made. She continued. ¡°For years, we¡¯ve lived outside of the City of Pillars, away from the rest of the seven great families. We lived on the run from the Cult of the Dark One, and we struggled. Some of you stayed,¡± she looked at the crowd, ¡°and some of you left. Considering the situation we were in, I can understand. I was supposed to leave with just my granddaughter in the first place, but you all followed us regardless of the difficulties we were bound to encounter. For that, I thank you,¡± Drizza said, smiling warmly at the villagers. They responded with silence. Clenched fists, gritted teeth. Lynn wetted her lips. The words and reactions¡­ they didn¡¯t fit. Something was wrong. ¡°We left the city because of many complicated reasons,¡± she continued, ¡°but now that we have returned, we have been welcomed back. As decided by the council, I will be joining their ranks once again. From now on, our people will live here, in the upper district, and I will depart for the Cloud District, where I will stay with the rest of the council.¡± There was a collective dampening of moods within the crowd, and the atmosphere turned even darker than before. Razzan was pale, Lynn noticed, but there was a smidgen of self-blame in his eyes. Drizza went on. ¡°Together, we will work towards eliminating the Cult of the Dark One. Because of Kara, I left the council, and because of her, I will return. We will find her,¡± her voice trembled, but she kept her composure. Drizza breathed slowly and looked up. She hesitated as if to say something, then stopped. She steeled her gaze and nodded at everyone present. ¡°Please do all you can to help me find my granddaughter. That is all.¡± Lynn watched Lady Drizza turn. She entered the carriage, and the two eels at the head stirred. Like a bolt of lightning, they took off, bursting into the air like two rays of light. The carriage trailed behind it, and the bodyguards on the ground followed, jumping into the air. They ascended a great height, then their feet glowed, stepping on the air as if it was solid. They used the foothold to soar higher, repeating the process before disappearing into the mist enshrouding the Cloud District far above. Slowly, the villagers all around Lynn dispersed, returning to their homes with solemn expressions and hard faces. Razzan, the hunters, and Dieter were left, standing in the middle of the street. ¡°What does this mean?¡± Dieter asked, as confused as Lynn was. ¡°She¡¯s gone,¡± said Razzan. Lynn frowned and continued to listen. What does he mean? she thought, and Razzan spoke again, as if to answer her thoughts. ¡°She isn¡¯t dead, but we won¡¯t be seeing her for a long time,¡± he spoke, his voice quiet. ¡°If we ever see her again, that is.¡± ¡°You¡¯re making her sound like a prisoner,¡± Dieter frowned. ¡°She is,¡± Razzan said, turning and walking away. The rest of the hunters followed. ¡°Wait!¡± Dieter ran after him, the ever-burning wisp of flame over his shoulders burning in agitation, ¡°What do you mean she¡¯s a prisoner!? Didn¡¯t she just get a position of authority? Didn¡¯t you tell me on the way here that she was just going to pull some connections!?¡± ¡°She did,¡± the Hunter dismissed him, ¡°and it¡¯s a very, very long story. One I never hoped to tell. I¡¯ll tell you everything tonight. For now, I need to talk to someone. Lynn Frostwood,¡± he said, and Lynn blinked, looking up at him. ¡°We¡¯re going to the Hunter¡¯s Lodge. Your group mentioned wanting to register, right? Come with us, but hurry. Time is short, and the chosen dwindling.¡± Chosen. She noted that term. Alen had told her he was one. He had to hear what was coming next. Lynn nodded and pulled up her party¡¯s screen. She pressed the button and spoke. ¡°Alen?¡± ¡°Yes?¡± he asked, the reply almost immediate. ¡°Message Sam and Adam to tell them to meet us in the Hunter¡¯s Lodge in the¡­¡± she looked to the Hunters. ¡°Middle district,¡± Razzan interjected. ¡°The middle district. Tell them to hurry. We¡¯ll meet you there.¡± ¡°Oh, I¡¯m already here,¡± he said. ¡°Someone¡¯s helping me get my sigil map and identification card.¡± ¡°Good,¡± she said. ¡°Call them there, and wait for us. A lot of somethings just happened.¡± ¡°What do you mean?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± Lynn said, ¡°but we might have to cut that break short. Something just happened to Lady Drizza.¡± ¡°Ah shit, now I wish I went to sleep last night.¡± Me too, Lynn thought, then ran inside a bathroom. She waved her hand, and her equipment flashed into existence from her storage ring, already equipped. She nodded, then dashed outside, following after Razzan and the others. If there was one thing she couldn¡¯t deny about meeting Alen, it would be that her life had become a lot more interesting as a result, for the lack of a better word. Almost frustratingly so. Then, even if it was a bit strained, she smiled. Almost.
Book 3, Chapter 10: Not Muffins Necromancer and Co., Book 3: The Underearth
Chapter 10: Not Muffins "Orinwood, like all metals in the Underearth, grew on trees. Many scholars are unsure of why this is, as the old records stated that all metals were mined in the world above, their old home, but are instead located within trunk and roots here. Perhaps it is a form of symbolism? To tell them that mining was unnecessary? That a way out wasn''t possible that way, or any way at all? Many are unable to sleep because of this subtle reminder, but is it truly the intention of the gods, or a reflection of our own despair?"
[Adam] He stared at the piece of wood in his hands. The dagger was carved almost to completion. It was white, and the patterns of the Orinwood he¡¯d used were prominent, the lines in the grain occasionally flashing with traces of a blue light. The material was high quality. It was powerful, magical. Soaked in magic, he was confident that this dagger made of the stuff and the shortsword that he¡¯d carve afterwards would be his best so far. He reached for the carving knife on his side, but found that it was a short distance away. He¡¯d knocked it aside again, most likely. Adam reached out and focused on the dagger. A flicker of gray, white-tinged light shone on his fingertips, his brown eyes flickering with the same color. With a whump, the dagger disappeared from its previous spot. It clattered on the ground a distance away, farther than it was before. The young man sighed and stood up, walking over to the knife the friends he¡¯d made in Eskwood had given him. He picked it up and stared at the block of wood, before shrugging and placing both in the bag he had hanging on his side. Supported by a strap on his shoulder and help in place by one around his hip, it didn¡¯t flail around nearly as much as before. He doubted he¡¯d have a problem with storage if he could master hisactualset of skills, though. Adam channeled the magic with ease once again, noting how significant the difference in mana cost was compared to his wind-type magic. Why is using my main fucking affinity so damnhard?he scratched his head in frustration, pointing at a pebble on the side of the road. He held his other hand out. Magic flared, and the pebble disappeared. It appeared to the right of his outstretched hand, clattering onto the cobbled road of dark stone below. Sparks of gray and white fizzled out where the pebble had teleported into the air. He sighed.I¡¯d be so badass with teleportation powers, but no, that¡¯s obviously too much to give, right?Adam shook his head. Wind was nice, and the way he circulated magic throughout his body to improve his physical capabilities went well with the direction he was driving himself towards, but the difficulty he had with using his actual mana-type was a massive crutch. A crutch that had been crippling him for three months in the surface, and four in the Underearth. Almost a year of time total. Adam pulled out a mirror from his pack. Was his hair alright? He brushed it up, tilting his head to give himself a better look.Better,he nodded, satisfied, subconsciously brushing it back down and nullifying his previous effort. He patted his clothes down, removing the crinkles his sitting had given it. It was mostly swamp-green wyvern-leather, but the extra neatness on the cloth he wore underneath always made him a little more presentable. He smiled at himself on the mirror, then put it away. He looked up, and the door to the building his friend disappeared into opened. Sam stepped out. His friend had changed a lot since their time on Earth, a time that felt so far away now. He wasn¡¯t sure he wanted to feel bad about it. His parents were great, but they¡¯d always raised him with independence in mind, so homesickness never struck him as hard as it did Alen. He watched as Sam approached him, a bag full of things in his hands. ¡°Here,¡± said Sam, offering the bag to him. ¡°You¡¯re making mecarryit?¡± he asked, raising a brow. ¡°I¡¯m the woman in this relationship.¡± Adam gave him a look. ¡°Look, man,¡± Sam said, groaning, ¡°this bag¡¯s heavy as hell, and my staff¡¯s getting in the way. Take it.¡± Adam shrugged and took the bag. It was light. Were Sam¡¯s physical statsthatbad? Granted, a few bars of metal, wood blocks, and a couple of mana stones wereboundto be heavy, but with his threshold, he was way past that point already. Where the hell did Sam dump his stats into? He stared, and said person stretched, nodded, then pointed. ¡°Let¡¯s go,¡± Sam said, ¡°Lynn asked me to pick something up for her too.¡± ¡°And that is?¡± ¡°What do you think?¡± ¡°Food?¡± Adam asked. ¡°Close enough,¡± Sam shrugged. ¡°Raw mana stones. Cheap for what it is, but expensive for what it does. She seems to benefit from them a lot, though.¡± ¡°No kidding,¡± said Adam, ¡°she¡¯s higher up on the thresholds thanweare, and somehow, Alen¡¯sstillahead of her.¡± ¡°Actually, whereisAlen right now?¡± ¡°Mapping, I think. He took a gate to a settlement over in uh, Demi¡ªDeme¡­¡± ¡°Demidrun,¡± Sam supplied. ¡°Demidrun,¡± Adam finished. ¡°We haven¡¯t gone to that region a lot, so he¡¯s probably busy looking for a route we haven¡¯t explored yet. I¡¯d ask him to import the waypoints he¡¯s mapped intomynav-device, but his is cluttered as hell. I¡¯d getmorelost looking at it.¡± Sam nodded sagely. ¡°Right?¡± ¡°Shut up, Sam. Yours is evenworse.What kind of person names waypoints like you do? At least Alen gives his waypoints names like Rock Hard and Moist Hole.¡± ¡°DK8-D is a great name for that place.¡± ¡°Whatever,¡± Adam said, shaking his head. As if he remembered something, he looked at Sam. ¡°Is my hair alright?¡± he asked. ¡°Push it up a little,¡± Sam suggested. ¡°Alright,¡± Adam nodded, running his hands through his hair, pushing it up. ¡°How about now?¡± ¡°It¡¯s good, yeah.¡± ¡°Oh, great,¡± Adam nodded, pushing his hair back down again by habit. Sam sighed. ¡ªo¡ª Drizza sat in front of her desk. She looked out of the window and felt a sense of trepidation rise up in her throat. She looked down, and the headings of the papers in front of her seemed to threaten her, taunt her. They seemed to nettle her, trying to find a reaction, trying to inflict pain with the titles¡ªto remind her that her granddaughter was missing for four months, and that she¡¯d done hardly anything about it. She picked one of the papers up. Report: Missing Chosen, Freugo of Axel. Axel,she pursed her lips. It was another major settlement in the Underearth. Not quite as grand as the City of Pillars, but it was still a major hub for trading. Neut-mounted traders almost always passed through it on their way to the City of Pillars. How was it that a chosen was taken there too? There weren¡¯t even any reports of fights. Drizza picked up another. Report: Ambush, Path of Pillars. Report: Lower District, Creuss Street Riot. Report: Missing Chosen, Edmund of Demidrun. She bit her lip and pushed the papers to the side. She pinched the bridge of her nose and let out a low curse under her breath. The attacks seemed indiscriminate, without a set pattern. One attack in a major settlement, another in the City of Pillars¡¯s lower district, and another in a relatively underdeveloped settlement. Drizza tapped her nails on the table. The council wasn¡¯t listening to her. Frankly, she hadn¡¯t expected them to at all. Her power was the only reason she was welcomed back in the first place. A prisoner in her own city, a follower in a coven she was supposed to lead. Now, she was forced to watch as chosen were taken one by one. The other council members treated the issue with the Cult of the Dark One like ahoax. To them, it was merely an abduction of religious figures. Icons to the people seeking for forgiveness from gods, and powerful mercenaries offed by their enemies. She knew it was beyond that. Ironic, how they had taken her for her power, and yet, they refused to listen to what her power was telling her at this moment. The sleeping god in the Underearth wasalive,asleep. It wasn¡¯t to be ignored. Like they were, this deity had been imprisoned in the Underearth for a reason¡ªrobbed of its power. And now, they werefeedingit. The Cult of the Dark One were fueling a fire. Powering a storm, and the council was merely standing by, watching the tide rise to swallow them all. A knock rang out from her door and Drizza sighed. ¡°You may enter,¡± she said. Slowly, the door creaked open, and one of the servants stepped in. Sul¡¯in, she recalled. Sul¡¯in bowed to her, then spoke. ¡°You are being asked to come to theroom,Lady Drizza.¡± She said nothing and merely stood up, walking past him. ¡°I am sorry my Lady,¡± the servant muttered softly, under his breath. Drizza walked on as if she hadn¡¯t heard. The walls of the palace located in the Cloud District passed her, lined in paintings. Outside of the tinted-glass windows, the blue light of the crystals shining the Underearth¡¯s sky slithered through the glass, painting images on the floor. Warm, fire-like light flickered across the halls, the stones glowing like flames mounted on sconces on the walls. Drizza took a turn and descended a circling flight of stairs. Vanity,she scoffed. The stairs descended into a lower hall, surrounded by mirrors so that the reflection of the one descending them was magnified to everyone in the room below. A show of power. Petty, egotistical. Image at the cost of practicality. If she was the one in charge, she¡¯d have¡ªDrizza stopped herself. She shook her head. She¡¯d lost. That¡¯s all there was. She¡¯d angered many by refusing to marry Kara off to Casith¡¯s nephew, and she had paid the price. Nothing more, nothing less. Now, she was back, her pride unimportant. It was not the time for petty feuds. She¡¯d begged for help, and she got it. It was easy enough. Casith always liked scenarios where she was the one in power. Drizza had merely used that to her benefit. She moved across the hall, then moved to stand in front of a set of double doors. They stood tall, large. Five meters high. Despite that, she pushed them open almost effortlessly. Drizza was strong again. She¡¯d asked for help, and she¡¯d gotten it. She stepped inside, and a woman with cat-like eyes turned and smiled at her, amber barbs and small horns dotting parts of her body. Her forehead, shoulders, and elbows. The woman wore a dark red dress. An expression of supreme smugness covered her face, and she nodded at Drizza. ¡°Welcome, Lady Drizza,¡± she said. Despite her words, she was still somehow capable of sounding politely condescending. ¡°Good afternoon, Casith,¡± Drizza replied, unperturbed. She moved across the room, Casith¡¯s eyes on her. An air of superiority lingered over the woman, but Drizza paid it no heed. She walked over to a formation in the center of the room. Mana stones lined the formation, powering it. Mirrors of varying sizes were suspended all around her like a dome, but they were neither reflective nor transparent. Inside the mirrors was swirling mist. A mosaic of colors and ideas. It was her job to put them together. ¡°What do you require?¡± Drizza asked the woman, feeling her magic seep into the formation below.If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. ¡°The top district is becoming a hassle to keep under control,¡± said Casith, the smile never leaving her face. ¡°Especially that conflict my clan has with the Craftsman¡¯s Quarter of the Hunter¡¯s Lodge. It¡¯s awfully crippling to be denied of their services, you know? Find me a solution. One that hurts that old man on the top.¡± ¡°The Father?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± Drizza apologized to him in her head. Closing her eyes, she retreated into her mental domain. Slowly, her consciousness divided, then entered each of the mirrors surrounding her. They began to glow. Ideas began to coalesce. Possibilities became images to view. Life energy began to drain. A steady throb began to course through her body. She grit her teeth, and felt the sweat stream down her face. The pain was horrendous, one that was beyond physical. The device was cruel, requiring a person¡¯s vitality to function. It was the reason why diviners like her lived so little. Drizza began to see. Ideas, solutions, possible routes. They took hold. All the mirrors displayed them on the outside, the images flashing quickly. She had no doubt that Casith was analyzing everything, finding the optimal solution. She pushed the most efficient ones to the front, neglecting the ones that wouldn¡¯t please the woman. Every stream of consciousness yielded a result, and it was precious. And like all precious things, it came with a cost. Her skin wrinkled, cracked. Drizza¡¯s back begun to hunch, and the flesh she¡¯d put on her body began to wither. Her hair turned white, her eyes going milky. More and more possibilities flooded in. Ways to attack, manipulate, defend. The weak points of the Craftsman¡¯s Quarter, the betrayers, the easily bribed. The potential victims. Ways to make The Father of the Hunter¡¯s Lodge concede to Casith¡¯s terms. Every idea was a sea of life force. Even with her strength, Drizza couldn¡¯t keep it up for any longer. Finally, with a gasp, she stopped. Her consciousness streamed back in, and she keeled over, kneeling on the floor, panting for breath. Casith nodded, satisfied. ¡°Thank you,¡± the woman said. ¡°The crystals are in the bedside chest of your quarters. You may leave.¡± Drizza nodded, then limped away. Back to her old, weak form, she grunted at the strain as she pushed the large double doors open. She walked up the circling steps, her enfeebled frame magnified for the servants to see. Drizza paid them little heed. She nodded at one that supported her as she passed, and thanked another as he opened the door to her room. She limped over to the bedside and withdrew the life crystals, their energy surging into her form and renewing her. It would have disastrous effects in the long term, but she hardly cared for her own health. In the darkness of her quarters, her eyes shone as she recalled the images she had seen. Aside from the images Casith had asked of her, in a mirror at the very back, she conducted her own search. In her closed eyes, Drizza could still see it clearly. An imprint in the dark. It was a possibility she was too afraid to show anyone else. The image had shown a hole torn in reality above the City of Pillars, and a churning mass funneling towards a blue sky. Freedom. And in that possibility, no matter how small, her granddaughter had lived within it, soaring towards the blue sky in the company of a large, white beast of claw and horn. With that, Drizza now had hope. Next, was taking her steps to move towards it. She opened her eyes and got to work. ¡ªo¡ª Alen scratched his head as he walked through the streets, a large, bulky figure walking around beside him. It was hidden under a dark cloak, the lights in the cavern roof casting shadows over its face. In the figure¡¯s cloth-wrapped hands, it held a torch. However, instead of a flame, the same stones that lit up the City of Pillars in the night rested upon the rod¡¯s claw-like grip. Its fire-like glow was reflected in Alen¡¯s eyes as he looked over the ruins of a home. ¡°Missing Chosen, Edmund of Demidrun,¡± he said, remembering the letter that had come to his room. Alexandrius¡¯s uncle, Vexxaron, had managed to get a copy of the report. Edmund Rusream, forty-three years old, had been attacked in his home. The man was a famous preacher, loved by the townspeople for his virtue, and respected by travelers for his willingness to offer a bed to sleep in. The report spoke of a fight that had broken out in the middle of the night, but by the time the townspeople had arrived, the shack located a good distance from the town was already in ruins. The man was gone, like many others. ¡°Another attack by the cult,¡± he idly noted. The house showed the same signs as the other sites he¡¯d observed. A powerful stench of blood pervaded the area, and the silence around the house was unnatural. The moment he stepped near it, every ambient noise in the area seemed to go out, snuffed out by the magic in the air. He pulled up the message screen and sent a message to Adam and Sam, telling them that he¡¯d be back soon. Alen walked out of the small town situated in the Demidrun region and moved towards the teleportation formation nearby. He took a small detour along the way, hiding behind a rocky outcrop. Seeing that no one was around, Alen waved his hand, and the cloaked figure following behind him deflated, equipment clattering onto the ground below. He picked up the cloth and the torch, strapping the latter to his waist. He reached down and collected the single tooth that laid on the stone. It was humanoid. He¡¯d taken it from a Xargith warrior. He¡¯d been mapping with Sam, Adam, and Lynn when they¡¯d come across the obsidian-skinned man. He was wounded and separated from his group, but he¡¯d still managed to put up one hell of a fight. Alen had taken it and made it into a summon, the natural mana-rich strength of the man¡¯s bones only strengthening his repertoire of undead. Alen had taken a larger chunk out of the man¡¯s soul to power the summon too, something that he¡¯d noticed he was doing more lately. Alen wasn¡¯t sure if he should be comfortable with what he was doing. It just seemedwrong, somehow. As if he was on the wrong path. It wasn¡¯t that he was putting a forced value on souls and life, but rather, he was afraid. Not fear of the unknown, no. Nor was it fear for what he was about to face. He¡¯d conquered that long ago. The scar on his palm was a constant reminder of that. What Alen was afraid of was himself. He didn¡¯t want to become numb to the concept of death. Hewantedto feel the weight of every life he took. Hewantedto hold himself back from raising hordes of zombies to send his enemies at their allies. It would serve him well in dire straits, but he wanted to stay away from making it a casual action as much as possible. He wanted to get home, after all. How would the people from his old life react, seeing him come home broken like that? He laughed bitterly as he stored the tooth in a pouch, where it clattered together with other humanoid teeth. I¡¯m already broken, more or less,he thought. He wasn¡¯t a stranger to his own habits. He was more violent, more aggressive lately. Violence had proved an easy solution, and he¡¯d grown accustomed to it. Every time he saw something stand in his way, he subconsciously saw it as an enemy. When he¡¯d nearly killed a thief for stealing from him a month ago, he knew that it was time to stop. Granted, the thief had stolen something extremely valuable, but that wasn¡¯t a valid excuse. Coin could be earned back, and items could be bought again. Alen had resolved himself already. He would take lives, but only if those lives had threatened to take his own. He would not kill because of annoyance. He would not kill because it was convenient. Alen refused to do it. He¡¯d come to this vicious world to live in it as a person his past self could respect. That threw a thought into his head. If his old self saw him now, what would he say? Nice and edgy there, faggot. He smiled and shook his head. He was adick, back then. Alen remembered how he¡¯d taken his fear and frustration of being thrust into a new world out on people and felt himself cringe. He felt better in his own shoes now. His sense of humor was still the same, but it was less forced. Less like a coping mechanism. He wasn¡¯t desperately clutching at something to laugh at anymore, desperately trying to find something to escape from his situation, no matter how needlessly vulgar. Well, he was still pretty bad on that scale, but an improvement was something to be celebrated. ¡°Yay,¡± he told himself, stepping up into the set of steps that led up to the portal. He handed the fee to the woman guarding the portal. Seventeen kris. An expensive amount, but for the luxury teleportation provided, it was worth it. Light lit up the entirety of his vision, and he squinted his eyes at the intensity of the glare. When it faded away, he was in a large room, surrounded by people. Opposite the large booth-like room he was in, other teleportation circles stood, leading to different places. Axel, Xanadar, Kaerun¡­ He shook his head. Lots of places to explore. Lots of uncharted territory. He¡¯d been in the Underearth for four months, longer than his stay in the upper planes, and things seemed as hopeless as ever. Not only was finding a way back proving more difficult, other problems presented itself too. The Cult of the Dark one was getting more aggressive, for instance. Alen prepared himself to be attacked every time he left the city, but he was left untargeted so far. So much that he had even begun to doubt Vexxaron¡¯s words. Was hereallymarked for death? There had been no signs. His thresholds had increased rapidly with the effort he had put in combined with the dense, ambient mana of the Underearth, but he¡¯d been unable to experience a single attack. He supposed that was a good thing, but it kept him on edge. Alen almostwishedfor a group of assassins to attack him, just to put his paranoia to rest. Alen stepped out of the Hunter¡¯s Lodge and onto the streets outside. People were busy in the lower district like always, milling about and going on their daily lives. Alen envied the sense of normalcy the people around him gave off. What he¡¯d give to feel like every day was a routine again. To wake up, brush his teeth, go to school, and maybe go out with friends at the ends of the day. Now, every day was packed with things to do. A request for a craftsman, areas to map, places to investigate, requests to finish, things to help out in¡­ He sighed. A voice rang out in his head. ¡°We¡¯re at the courtyard, visiting for lunch. Come over,¡±Lynn¡¯s voice said. He pressed the button to reply. ¡°Alright,¡± he said, ¡°I¡¯m coming over. Leave some of the good stuff for me.¡± ¡°No way,¡±she laughed.¡°You better hurry.¡± ¡°Yeah, yeah,¡± he replied, going through the streets. The upper district was a fair distance away, and he still needed to stop by the room he was renting out to pick up the token that granted him entry onto the upper regions of the city. Lady Drizza had sent him one, a month after she¡¯d disappeared to apparently live in the Cloud District. He never had the chance to talk to her properly. She hadn¡¯t come back down once since she¡¯d left. Aside from hearing that her stay was barely pleasant, Razzan hadn¡¯t told him anything more. Dieter, meanwhile, was still missing. The new arrival from his batch had departed to explore the Underearth to search for Lady Drizza¡¯s granddaughter, and aside from occasionally running into him in settlements outside of the city, Alen rarely made contact with the man. He was rough, Alen recalled. Haggard. He shook his head sadly. Quickly, Alen walked to his room and retrieved the token. He left his equipment on the bedside, leaving the reinforced-keratin plates that covered his vitals on the bed. He departed in just his robes, the thick fabric reaching just by his calves. He pulled on the cuff of his top, loosening it and lowering the hood over his head. He set his gauntlet by the table as well, the glowing necrotic-affinity magic stone slotted onto the back of it, surrounded by runes and sigils. He kept his pouch full of teeth and bone shards, though. It never hurt to keepsomemeasure of protection on him. Namely, an army of undead that could be summoned at any time. Alen grinned at the thought and switched roads, moving to a wider one. People riding on mounts and carriages flowed through the streets, the people walking on foot situated to the side. Alen threw a tooth to the ground and summoned a large, four-legged creature. It looked feline, but its tail¡¯s skeletal structure was that of a snake¡¯s, and its four legs long and triple-jointed. Its head was massive, almost out of proportion, with two mouths lined with sharp teeth, the bone structure itself curved into a feral, cat-like grin. A Kavarith, as people in the Underearth called it. He mounted it and it bounded over carriages, moving through the street with a grace that showed little to no difficulty. Some people cursed at him, calling him out for his use of undead, but he rarely paid heed. There were no laws against his mount, and the people who got angry at him for using it were either religiously offended or simply annoyed at how easily he skipped over the rest of the traffic. Alen bounded over more people, and on the ramp that ascended towards the level above, his mountjumped, using the side of the road to skip the crowds of people going up and down. It was dangerous, the way his mount threatened to slip and fall of the edge, but living in the Underearth for four months had robbed Alen of any fear or reluctance he had towards heights. He brushed his hair back. It was still freshly shaven, no longer falling over his eyes when he leaned forward. The guard at the gate asked for a fee, but stopped as Alen flashed him the token he had in his pocket. Quickly, he ascended towards the upper levels. It was easy, with his mount shortening the time it took to get there by a significant amount. Alen crossed another set of guards and ascended a familiar road. Blue grass lined the side of the street, and a courtyard showed itself just beyond the horizon. Alen sped up, then eventually slowed as he spotted a group of people gathered in front of the gates. Razzan, Adam, Sam, Lynn, other Hunters he could recognize, a couple villagers, and¡­ Dieter?Vexxaron? They looked up at him as he bounded forward. Alen stopped a short distance away, unsummoning his mount and stashing the fang in one of his many pouches. As he walked up to them, the lizardman gave him a nod. ¡°Alen,¡± Vexxaron said, acknowledging his presence. ¡°Vexxaron,¡± Alen returned the greeting, raising a brow at the rest of them. Dieter glanced his way and nodded. Alen noticed the fresh scar that ran up from his jaw, cutting up into the corner of his lip. The flame wisp over his shoulder, Ignis, burned with an intense blue flame. Dieter pointed into the courtyard and they followed as he went in. The rest of the villagers were there, gathered around a table. Lunch had been served, but their appetites seemed to be forgotten at the sight of Dieter, who hadn¡¯t come to the city in months. Quickly, a crowd gathered around him. Alen stood back, letting them greet one another. His friends stood around him, silent. ¡°You know what this means, right?¡± Sam said. ¡°He found something,¡± Alen replied. ¡°Yup,¡± Adam said, ¡°let¡¯s hope it¡¯s related to finding a way back.¡± ¡°Or areallygood recipe for muffins,¡± Lynn offered. Alen smiled. ¡°Let¡¯s hope it¡¯s both.¡± Silently, the four of them watched the Kaer talk for a few minutes. Alen wasn¡¯t quite hungry, and he didn¡¯t want to interrupt the reunion of sorts, so he stayed back. A while later, Dieter separated from the crowd, walking to them with Razzan and Vexxaron right beside him. The man paused, trying to figure out what to say. He sighed. ¡°Follow me,¡± Dieter said. He led them into an isolated house. The walls were thick, and as Razzan waved his hand, a bubble expanded out from his position, most likely blocking the noise from outside. They sat, and Lynn tilted her head in curiosity. She gave Alen a look. ¡°They aren¡¯t going to assassinate us, are they?¡± she whispered. ¡°I¡¯d like to eat lunch first,¡± Alen responded, keeping his eyes on the three. Dieter seemed to hesitate, then shook his head. ¡°I¡¯ll skip the greetings,¡± said Dieter. ¡°Uh, alright,¡± Adam said. ¡°What¡¯s up, then? You said you¡¯d only come back when you found something, right?¡± ¡°Yes, and I have,¡± the man spoke, nodding. He fished a rugged, dirty navigation device from his pocket and handed it to Razzan. The hunter opened it, and a large display, formed from magic, hovered over the surface like a hologram. There, large chunks of the Underearth had been mapped. Tunnels and passages, constantly shifting. Layers above layers, floors below floors. Multiple levels constantly shifted and stuttered, the layout slowly but surely changing every second. Alen gaped at the sheer progress Dieter had made. Vexxaron seemed unfazed, but the slight raise of their brows was clear enough. He¡¯d been surprised too. ¡°I¡¯ve been looking,¡± said Dieter, sounding tired. Despite that, however, a fire burned behind his voice. ¡°I¡¯ve been searching, and two days ago, I found something.¡± He pointed to a section of the map. Alen looked closely, then his eyes widened at the name Dieter had assigned to the waypoint. Cult of the Dark One, Portal #1. Lynn leaned in and whispered something into Alen¡¯s ears. He nodded dumbly in agreement. These werenotabout muffins. Book 3, Chapter 11: Matriarch Necromancer and Co., Book 3: The Underearth
Chapter 11: Matriarch
[Alen] Alen leaned against the wall, his arms crossed. He stared seriously at the navigation device Dieter held in his hand. Above it, a three-dimensional image of the Underearth Dieter had mapped came into view, the cave structures of each room and passage outlined by the pulses of magic emitted by each sigil he left. Alen could tell Dieter¡¯s device was of a high quality too, with the sheer amount of sigils being far above the amount his own could sustain. ¡°If you want to repay us,¡± Dieter said, ¡°now is the time.¡± ¡°Hm,¡± Sam spoke little, his arms similarly crossed. ¡°This cult is full of those dudes like the one who had that standoff with Granny Drizza right?¡± ¡°Yes,¡± Razzan nodded. ¡°Sieth is one of the stronger ones, but the Cult of the Dark one has many individuals capable of taking on chosen, with most being chosen themselves.¡± ¡°So we just have to beat people on Alen¡¯s level?¡± Adam grinned. ¡°Easy.¡± A hand covered in red scales raised up, and Vexxaron spoke, his fist clenched. ¡°Your friend, despite his rapid growth, is still a freshly assigned chosen. If I recall, he¡¯s only faced a single trial from his god. I¡¯ve faced three, and the people we know enough to take note of in the Cult of the Dark One have faced two, at least. It will be far from easy.¡± Adam frowned. ¡°So you¡¯re sending us to fight these people? It¡¯s a fucking suicide mission. No. I¡¯m sorry, but giving us a place to stay and leading us to this city isn¡¯t enough of a favor to make me kill myself. No offense.¡± ¡°None taken,¡± Razzan said, and Dieter continued for him. ¡°We¡¯re not attacking,¡± said Dieter, ¡°we¡¯re breaking and entering. Preferably with as little breaking as possible.¡± ¡°My family has a background on these things,¡± Lynn slowly said, ¡°and there¡¯s always an objective for doing so. Stealing, kidnapping, eavesdropping, or¡­ Assassination?¡± Alen raised a brow at her voice near the end. ¡°Kidnapping,¡± Dieter clarified. ¡°To be more specific, rescue. They¡¯ve been kidnapping chosen for months, and Kara is among them. I¡¯m almost certain the chosen haven¡¯t been killed yet, contrary to the rumors. If we can rescue them, I¡¯ll be sure to find a way to repay you all.¡± ¡°If it¡¯s money,¡± Adam said, ¡°no deal.¡± ¡°Of course it isn¡¯t,¡± Dieter said. ¡°I know what you want. My plan has a chance of helping you get it.¡± Alen gave him a long look. ¡°And that is?¡± ¡°A way back to the surface.¡± ¡ªo¡ª ¡°I¡¯ll handle the paperwork,¡± Alen said. ¡°I¡¯m no good at the whole negotiation thing. You guys figure things out with Dieter. I¡¯ll take care of the form.¡± ¡°Alright,¡± Adam nodded, and Alen turned his back, walking to the counter of the Hunter¡¯s Lodge. The place was far more complex than its name would suggest, offering a sea of hallways and discussion rooms, where deals and contracts were exchanged. He turned a corner, and in the hallway ahead, he spotted the main lobby. It was a large room, with arches and pillars of obsidian marble holding the ceiling up. Tinted glass lined the windows, depicting things from the surface¡ªno doubt the only things the trapped races could remember about it. Oceans, mountains, and wide, sprawling forests. Alen passed them, along with multiple other tables where people sat. All around the room, different races could be seen. A large, furred man with the head of a cow and the claws of a feline sat on a table in one side. He was of the Ginno race. Another man, barbs and horns protruding from his face was a person Alen could recognize. He¡¯d dealt with the Arineian man before, a small exchange of information between their navigation devices. It had been embarrassing after the man had seen his waypoint names. They quickly got along after a few jokes at Alen¡¯s expense. His name was Koss. Koss nodded at him, and Alen nodded back, continuing on his way, more aware of each race as he passed them. A fish-like man, with long fins running down from his head like hair. His webbed hands held a pen. A man of the Kivotl race. Alen pulled his eyes away. Now that he¡¯d gotten hope of a way out, things seemed to be more out of place than ever. Faces and people that he¡¯d never see in Earth, or even the continent above. Since the Underearth counted as a world itself, did that mean he¡¯d traveled worlds twice now? It was baffling how easy it was to lose everything he had just because of a single portal. He reached into his pocket and felt the Redarian coin he had inside. Baby steps. One step at a time. Find a way back into Sandsea or Redarian territory, then find a way back to Earth. Easy. He reached his destination. The man on the counter had a complexion of obsidian, his skin black like midnight and his eyes red like blood. Xargith. It was peculiar, seeing a man of the most savage race in the Underearth working in front of a counter. He was different, however. Alen almost couldn¡¯t associate him with the race that had made tents from flayed skin. Alen raised a hand in greeting. ¡°Hey, Youno.¡± ¡°Ah, the resident new arrival,¡± Youno said, his arms crossed. ¡°Is Dieter with you?¡± ¡°Yeah,¡± Alen nodded. ¡°He¡¯s over in one of the negotiation rooms. My party¡¯s making a deal with him.¡± ¡°Party? I don¡¯t seem to recall you ever registering for one.¡± ¡°It¡¯s why I¡¯m here, actually. I need a better nav-device.¡± ¡°Ah,¡± Youno said, bringing out a piece of paper from underneath he counter. It was glossy, a vaguely transparent blue. The ink on the paper glowed with a gentle white light. He pushed it towards Alen. ¡°A long expedition?¡± ¡°Yup,¡± he nodded. ¡°My party¡¯s going out for a while, and we can¡¯t afford to buy one of the more expensive devices for a way back. I don¡¯t want to sacrifice any of my current waypoints for new ones, so I¡¯m going with the devices the Lodge provides.¡± ¡°I see. You are aware of the terms?¡± ¡°Discover a new piece of habitable territory every two months, with three different routes to enter and exit. The paths must be consistent, and at least one must be active every day of the week,¡± Alen recited. ¡°That¡¯s all, right?¡± ¡°You forgot to mention the down payment,¡± Youno smiled. ¡°Intentionally, I hope.¡± ¡°Damn. I thought you¡¯d forget.¡± ¡°You¡¯d be surprised how much people try that,¡± the man said. Youno pointed at different parts of the paper, where blanks where line in white ink. ¡°Party name, member names and their respective IDs, and the magical imprint from the contracting party leader. The rest of the blanks are the same ones you filled in when you first registered into the Lodge. I trust you remember them?¡± ¡°Yeah,¡± said Alen, taking the pen. As he touched the paper with it, it emitted magic, cutting out text into the mana-based paper made of Stonewood tree leaves. It left luminescent white letters in its wake. When he finished, Youno pointed to a section of the paper. ¡°And¡­ magical imprint.¡± Alen pulled on his vitality, and poured the green motes into a strand of his magic. The pain was familiar now. A powerful sting, but he¡¯d felt worse pain. A few motes would never be as painful as ripping out in a clump. Alen pushed the strand of magic into the paper, branding the contract with his identity. Youno took it and nodded. ¡°You know, your magic imprints are more potent that others¡¯. I¡¯ve noticed that it¡¯s stronger, somehow. More¡­ alive? Xargith like me are naturally talented at controlling life and blood, and your signatures practically hum with it? What do you do?¡± ¡°I just throw my identity in with my mana, really,¡± Alen said, then nodded. Youno shrugged and slid the paper inside a drawer in his desk. ¡°That¡¯ll be two hundred purple kris.¡± Alen frowned. ¡°That expensive?¡± ¡°It¡¯s navigation device than can hold somewhere around ten thousand magical imprints active for a year,¡± said Youno. ¡°Of course it¡¯s expensive.¡± ¡°Do you take red coins for that?¡± ¡°Even better.¡± Alen sighed and pulled up his coin pouch. He rifled through the bag of keratin, his fingers moving through a mass of crystalline coins. Most were dark, a faint swirl of color churning within like mist. Others were brighter, a crystal coin with a sea of purple mist within, but they were even fewer in number. Alen spotted the single bright red coin in his pouch. From where he was at, it still glowed with a light that faintly lit up his fingers. He pulled it out and slid it across the table. ¡°Take the rest from my balance,¡± Alen said, giving the man his navigation device. Youno glided the back of it over a rune. A faint arc of magic like red lightning flashed between the two before the man pulled a circular slab out of his device. He put the device off to the side and slotted the slab into a new device. Sleek, black. Like the pillars of the city. Youno handed it to him. ¡°Thank you for you patronage,¡± Youno smiled, and Alen smiled back stiffly in return. With a final nod, he turned his back and left, his shoulders more hunched than before. ¡°Three months of my fucking savings,¡± Alen muttered. ¡°Three months gone.¡± Alen walked past the main lobby, and a Ginno man with a bull¡¯s head flicked a coin in his direction from behind him. It passed through the thin cloud of magic Alen dispersed around his body and alerted him immediately. He casually moved a hand behind his back and caught it. He looked back at the man. ¡°Thanks, Marrh,¡± said Alen. The bull-man nodded in response. ¡°I know what buyin¡¯ one of those upgrades feel like, bone-boy,¡± said Marrh. ¡°Buy yerself a drink.¡± ¡°Will do.¡± With a final affirmative grunt from the Ginno, Alen left the lobby, with Koss slapping him on the back as he passed. Familiar with the layout of the Lodge, Alen quickly found himself on the hallway leading to the discussion room the rest of his colleagues were in. Voices rang out from within. Alen pushed the door open and stepped inside. ¡°¡­telling us that aside from that aside from waking that god dude or something, they already have a way to open a portal back to the surface?¡± ¡°Yes,¡± Dieter answered Sam. ¡°Razzan told me that a newly awakened god would be too weak to open a portal back up. They definitely have a way to open that doorway.¡± ¡°And why don¡¯t they just wait until the god is strong enough?¡± Alen asked, taking a seat beside Lynn. She nodded at him as he sat. ¡°Because,¡± Dieter said, ¡°they need to do a favor for that god. Whoever the god is, it won¡¯t be in their control when it wakes up. If it happens to be angry and they don¡¯t do anything to curry good will with it, it could easily kill them all.¡± Alen frowned. The cult was planning on raising a god and hoping it didn¡¯t kill them when it woke up? They really were lunatics. He looked around the room. Lynn sat, leaning on the chair. She looked about ready to go with whatever happened, but Alen knew she was listening intently. It was the same for Sam. He was as untidy-looking as ever. One of his sleeves folded up when the other wasn¡¯t, ruffled clothes, dirty boots, and one button left unbuttoned on his shirt. He fiddled with an ice shard in his hands, paying minimal attention to the discussion. Adam was the only other one who had a serious look on his face. He looked at Alen, and Alen pursed his lips. ¡°Should we go?¡± Alen asked. ¡°I think¡­ we should,¡± said Adam. ¡°We¡¯ve been looking for a way back for four months in the Underearth. That¡¯s roughly seven to eight months in the surface already. We¡¯ve been in this world for nearly a year, Alen. I want to get back.¡± ¡°Yeah,¡± Alen said. He looked around the room. ¡°Sam? Lynn? You guys want to go?¡± ¡°If it involves going into places I¡¯m not allowed to go into, I¡¯m in,¡± Lynn said. ¡°Eh, do we really need to go?¡± asked Sam, dismissing the shard of ice. ¡°We kinda do, yeah.¡± ¡°So let¡¯s go, then,¡± Sam shrugged and picked up his staff. He looked around the room and raised a brow. ¡°Well? Come on. I wanna go home too. I have a lot of shows to catch up with back home.¡± ¡°Very well,¡± Razzan nodded and stood up. Dieter, two other hunters, and Vexxaron followed. ¡°As agreed,¡± Vexxaron said, ¡°we¡¯ll meet by the teleportation portal to the Axel region in eight hours. Take that time to rest and gather your supplies. We don¡¯t know how this will go, so come as prepared as possible.¡± The room was filled with a round of nods, and they all stepped out and parted ways. The party stepped out into the hall, and Alen looked down at the shirt he wore. It was white, made from the fur that only grew out of the back of a Hill Behemoth¡¯s head. Comfortable, durable, but totally inappropriate for the journey ahead. ¡°I¡¯m going to go change,¡± Alen told his friends. ¡°Meet you guys outside?¡±Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit. ¡°Mm.¡± ¡°Okay.¡± ¡°Sure.¡± Alen jogged ahead of them and passed a corner. He waved his hand. From the keratin belt that held the bag and pouches to his waist, gray thread bubbled out. When he turned another corner, his equipment had already materialized around him. His robe, thicker and stronger, sported more armor plates to protect him. It barely weighed him down as he jogged forward onto the lobby. Youno looked up at his again as he approached. ¡°Back already?¡± the Xargith man asked. ¡°I¡¯m not interested in men, you know. I¡¯m sure Geralt in the next window would be interested, though. Should I switch over?¡± ¡°You¡¯re the only one for me, Youno,¡± Alen said, bringing out his device. ¡°Always the charming one,¡± the man shook his head, crossing his arms. ¡°What can I do for you?¡± ¡°I¡¯d like to retrieve my things under my name. The usual list of stuff I get when I head out.¡± ¡°The gauntlet?¡± ¡°And the other things, yes.¡± Youno nodded and reached into the bottom of the table. Immediately, the notes stacked on the table floated away as a circular formation of runeworks and sigils lit up on the surface of the table. The Xargith man waved his hand, and a piece of paper floated over to him. He grabbed the pen on the side, then copied signs from the paper onto the blanks of the formation. A white light flashed, and when it faded, a terrifying black gauntlet sat upon the surface of the runework. A green gem was embedded into the back of the gauntlet¡¯s hand. Alen took it, and with a gesture on his part, the straps and material of the gauntlet reached out like millions of tiny tendrils, each connecting to the fabric of his sleeve. Within seconds, it had fully melded into his right arm, running down from his shoulder to the tips of his fingers. Runes and engravings ran down the length of the gauntlet, the exquisite work reflected the light of the lobby on the glossy black material of the armor. Alen clenched his fist, then unclenched it again. He nodded. More items flashed onto the circle. He noted the floating notes around Youno and tilted his head. ¡°You learned a telekinesis-based magic?¡± ¡°Yes,¡± the man nodded. ¡°I¡¯m still adjusting to the new job, and I figured things would be a lot easier if I learned something to help me manage things.¡± ¡°I¡¯m thinking of learning it too, yeah.¡± ¡°I wouldn¡¯t recommend it,¡± Youno disagreed. ¡°With what you have right now, learning an affinity like this would be a waste of your capacity.¡± ¡°I haven¡¯t learned a new affinity since¡­ I don¡¯t even know how long. I guess Life would count, seeing as how I¡¯ve tinkered around a lot with life force,¡± said Alen. ¡°Good point though. Noted. I¡¯ll choose my affinities wisely.¡± ¡°Good,¡± the receptionist said, handing him a bag. Alen took it. He quickly glanced inside to check if it had everything. Pouches. Teeth, bones, shards, shells. Some had summons stored, and others¡­ Souls. It was complete, alright. ¡°Thanks,¡± Alen muttered, and Youno nodded, the runes fading. He resumed his work. A voice called out to Alen from behind. ¡°Alen!¡± He turned his head. It was Adam, right by the door that led outside. ¡°What¡¯s up?¡± Alen asked. ¡°You made the party right? We were talking about how we forgot to settle for a party name,¡± said Adam. He paused, then gave Alen a look. His face suddenly went dark when Alen met his stare with a grin. ¡°...What did you name it?¡± Alen told him. Adam groaned. ¡ªo¡ª ¡°Is it somewhere around here?¡± Alen muttered, slowing his mount. The skeletal form of the Kavarith lurched to a halt as he tilted his head to get a better look at the road ahead. Dieter and Razzan stood in front of a wall, arms crossed. They shouted something at the following party. Sam, Adam, Vexxaron, and the other hunters were just behind, dismounting to set down and rest. Lynn, who sat behind Alen looked over his shoulder. ¡°Why¡¯d we stop? I never knew riding a Kavarith as a mount would be so fun,¡± she said, patting the creature¡¯s back. Alen had molded a saddle of sorts onto the back of the large feline creature, easing many of the aches the mount would cause his ass otherwise. She poked his back with a finger. ¡°Lend me one already,¡± she said. ¡°We could even do a race. Best rider gets fifty kris.¡± His eyes lit up. ¡°Purple kris?¡± ¡°Just kris.¡± ¡°Rejected.¡± She laughed. ¡°Okay, how about this: five purple kris.¡± ¡°You¡¯re exceedingly stingy, you know that?¡± ¡°It¡¯s why my savings are still intact,¡± Lynn smugly said. Alen hit the top of her head with his new navigation device. She glared. ¡°I paid for this thing, you know. I¡¯m your only way back to the city, and I¡¯m the party leader of our new group. Am I great, or am I great?¡± ¡°You hit me,¡± she complained, ¡°and the party name is terrible.¡± ¡°What? It¡¯s perfect.¡± ¡°How is¡ªI won¡¯t even say it,¡± said Lynn, shaking her head. ¡°I don¡¯t want to.¡± ¡°It¡¯ll grow on you,¡± Alen said, urging the mount forward. They approached the group. ¡°We¡¯re stopping because we arrived early. Dieter imported his waypoints into my nav-device. Look. See?¡± Alen pointed, and Lynn looked at the device¡¯s screen. On the marker signaling their location, a small white dot slowly made its way closer to them. A passage was moving towards their area, no doubt a link to their next destination. Alen had magnified the map significantly, so Lynn could tell that its progress was near-glacial. ¡°No way,¡± she said. ¡°I¡¯ve never been this early to anything in my life. This wait will take what, an hour? Two?¡± ¡°Yeah, I think.¡± ¡°So we¡¯re just supposed to sit here?¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± ¡°But that¡¯s boring.¡± ¡°It is,¡± Alen said, messing around with the device. He brought the screen up to Lynn. ¡°Gorebat nest. I¡¯m rushing to the thirtieth threshold, and these guys should give me a good amount of mana to assimilate. You want to go?¡± ¡°Only if we go mapping if there¡¯s any time left afterward. I still need to complete my monthly quota for the Lodge,¡± she said. ¡°Youno threatened to have me pay for my contribution instead if I didn¡¯t map out nine new places in the next three days.¡± ¡°The quota¡¯s fifteen, Lynn. What the hell have you been doing?¡± ¡°No, what the hell have you been doing?¡± She asked, exasperated. ¡°The areas fully mapped by the city are massive. To get to any uncharted territories, you have to teleport to the farthest regions and go from there. Do you have any idea how much that costs?¡± ¡°I think it¡¯s reasonable.¡± ¡°You have a mount and a magic system that recoups any of your losses twice over with every fight. If you didn¡¯t splurge on your money, you¡¯d be rolling in cash.¡± ¡°Fair enough. Talesin makes good bread, though.¡± ¡°Extremely overpriced bread,¡± she said. ¡°Even for the middle district.¡± Alen smiled. ¡°Still good bread,¡± he said, looking over to the rest of the party. Adam was hunched over, fiddling with something, and Sam was idly watching, humming a tune as Adam halfheartedly sang along. ¡°Adam! Sam!¡± He called out, and the two paused to give him a look. ¡°We¡¯re heading out to slaughter innocent animals! You guys going?¡± Adam shook his head. ¡°I gotta finish carving my weapons or I¡¯ll be useless later. You guys go ahead.¡± ¡°Sam?¡± The person in question stood up and stretched. ¡°Yeah, I can go,¡± said Sam. Alen nodded and plucked a tooth hidden in a pocket within his robes. He threw it to the ground, and the enamel bubbled, before growing into a humanoid skeleton. Its jaw was sharp, and multiple bones in its body were dense in places humans weren¡¯t. Its bones continued to surge. A layer over the ribs. Breastplate. Plates of armor began to sprout from its body, covering it in dense, mana-enhanced material. Pauldrons, gauntlets, greaves. They were a clean white, but as the necrotic mana swept over the enamel to strengthen it even further, they were dyed a murky, black-green. Alen created a cloak of keratin from the fabric of his sleeve and tossed it at the summon. It caught it, then draped the hood over its head, obscuring its skeletal features. Sam stared at the summon in curiosity. ¡°Doesn¡¯t your magic get exhausted, having to strengthen each of your summons like that all the time?¡± ¡°It¡¯s different for each summon,¡± Alen answered. ¡°If I try to bring for example, a wild wolf to a level where it can fight people of our thresholds, it¡¯ll drain my magic very quick, even with the insane amounts of mana I have after min/maxing Wisdom.¡± ¡°So like, this guy is different because?¡± ¡°Because when we killed him, he was at a threshold even higher than we were. His bones were soaked in the magic he absorbed when he was alive, and when I summon him, I only have to spend my magic on regenerating said bones back into shape. I kinda just edited a part of his soul so that the armor is considered a part of his skeletal system. After that, it¡¯s just another sweep of my magic to make him just a tiny bit stronger than he already is,¡± said Alen, arms crossed as a blade of bone grew out his minion¡¯s chest. It snapped the weapon off from the armor at the hilt. ¡°I thought you hated using people as summons,¡± Lynn noted, tilting her head. ¡°I don¡¯t like using entire souls as summons,¡± he clarified. ¡°Whenever I touch on the parts that make the person them, it builds something in me, a connection. It¡¯s kind of like suddenly considering a stranger a brother. Their presence suddenly feels like family, and the feelings of hatred and sorrow inside them is enough to drive me insane,¡± Alen said, rolling a tooth around in his hands. ¡°Selerius is suppressing the voices, but whenever I use Raise Undead for a long amount of time, my chest begins to hurt. It¡¯s probably the way I¡¯ve designed my magic system, but these souls can affect me. They can influence my emotional state.¡± Adam, who was in listening range nodded. ¡°So if you take a bunch of gay spirits and let them influence you, then¡­¡± ¡°I won¡¯t¡ªno,¡± Alen shook his head. ¡°I don¡¯t even know. If I start professing some undying love towards you, then you¡¯ll know what happened.¡± ¡°No worries man. I¡¯ll exorcise you or something.¡± ¡°Appreciated,¡± Alen said. He looked to Lynn and Sam. ¡°Let¡¯s go?¡± ¡°Lets,¡± said Lynn. Sam shrugged. Alen smiled and threw three teeth onto the ground. They clattered and bubbled up, exploding into fluid enamel that rapidly hardened, forming quadruped feline creatures with two mouths and three-jointed legs. Alen mounted his Kavarith, and his summon did the same. Sam mounted his, and Alen was about to give the order to go when he spotted Lynn giving him a look. ¡°What?¡± he asked. ¡°You had four of these things,¡± she said. ¡°About two dozen in my pouches, actually. They usually come in pairs or groups of three.¡± ¡°You didn¡¯t summon one for me on the way here,¡± she complained. ¡°I had to hold on to you to avoid falling off the entire way. Your saddle has no handholds on the back.¡± ¡°Exactly.¡± ¡°What?¡± ¡°Hm? Nothing,¡± Alen shook his head and gave her an innocent smile. ¡°I was conserving mana. These things have enough magic in their bodies to be considered in the early thirties of mana thresholds, you know? Mana conservation.¡° ¡°You were bragging about how you could summon your entire army with mana to spare just a week ago,¡± she pointed out, smiling wryly. Alen coughed. ¡°We have two hours. Let¡¯s hurry into Gorebat territory.¡± ¡°Yes, party leader,¡± Lynn mocked, climbing onto the back of the Kavarith. Alen coughed again, and gave the order to move with his magic. The mounts exploded into action without delay. Wind buffeted Alen¡¯s face. He didn¡¯t look at the front, but looked at everything through the navigation device instead. A thin globe of magic extended out all around him, letting him avoid any incoming obstacles. Mana Sense. Sam had taught it to him. As they bounded forward, he controlled the mounts of the other three as well. Lynn¡¯s hair fluttered in the wind, followed back flashes of blue and black as Sam and his cloaked summon trailed after them not far behind. ¡°Alen,¡± Lynn called out. ¡°Yeah?¡± ¡°Let me see your status.¡± ¡°Why?¡± ¡°Curiosity.¡±
Status:
Name: Alen Race: Human Type: Necrotic
Current Threshold: 29
Health: 100% Stamina: 99% Mana: 100%
Strength: 68 Dexterity: 69 Agility: 58
Constitution: 67 Vitality: 71 Resistance: 55
Intelligence: 136 (+) Wisdom: 215 (+++) Control: 172 (++)
Skills:
Mana Programming, Dominate Undead, Necrotic Blessing, Numb Senses, Numbing Mist, Summon Greater Skeleton, Rotfire/Deathflare Blast, Deathchill Grip, Deathchill Pulse, Conjure AutoBone Design, Skeletal Detonation, Vitality Manipulation, Blightwater/Darkwater Surge, Raise Greater Undead, Mana Sense, Drain Vortex, Skeletal Vajra, Magelight, Create Specters
System Applications:
Soul Editor, AutoBone, System Notepad
He shrugged, then brought it up, before bringing her mount close enough to his that the bones of each Kavarith¡¯s shoulder grinded against the other¡¯s. He gave it one good look to see if everything was in order. He smiled in satisfaction. ¡°Gods,¡± Lynn muttered. ¡°No wonder you refuse to arm wrestle with me.¡± ¡°Shut up.¡± ¡°Oh my goodness,¡± Sam called out from behind. ¡°Can we like, let me see? Your summon is terrible at keeping people company. He didn¡¯t even respond when I asked him about the weather.¡± Alen smiled and rolled his eyes. He brought Sam close to the other side of his summon, then pushed the screen over to him. ¡°Holy crap,¡± Sam laughed. ¡°You¡¯re even more of a glass cannon than I am.¡± He shrugged. ¡°I mean, I¡¯ve only pumped my points into those three stats since day one.¡± ¡°Really?¡± ¡°Yeah. I think even people at the twentieth thresholds could push me around in a purely physical confrontation.¡± ¡°No kidding,¡± Lynn said. ¡°Should I start learning how to use a shield? Nah.¡± ¡°We have Roland for that,¡± Alen quietly said. Sam furrowed his brows. ¡°Dude, I don¡¯t¡­ I mean, you¡¯ve been here for a long time. He should¡¯ve turned up by now, especially with how much you scoured the Underearth. What if he¡¯s, you know.¡± ¡°He isn¡¯t,¡± Lynn calmly spoke. "I have a party comms with Alen and Roland. If he died, his name would¡¯ve disappeared from the directory. He¡¯s out there.¡± ¡°Yeah,¡± Alen said, stopping the mounts. The two looked at him, confused. He pointed. Ahead of them was a dark passage. A cave in an underground world of cave systems. It seemed darker than normal. No crystals near the ceiling that lit up the inside of the rooms. A warm breeze blew out of the cave, and it brought with it the coppery smell of blood. Alen reached into his pouch and threw teeth onto the ground. They began to form into his summons. Through the darkness of the cave, a single, blood red eye the size of a table looked down at them. ¡°Heads up,¡± Alen said. ¡°The bats know we¡¯re here.¡± Sam licked his lips. ¡°Is that¡­?¡± ¡°A matriarch,¡± Lynn said, and a piercing screech ripped through the entirety of the cave. The sounds of thousands of beating wings exploded out from the darknedd in a maddened flurry, announcing a single, clear fact: The fight was coming. Update, Hiatus Aaaand the dreaded update has come. I''m really sorry guys. Now, before anyone says the fiction is dropped, it isn''t. I''ve just been slapped across the face by some writer''s block is all. The update speed has visibly dropped for a while now as many of you have noticed, and I''ve been agonizing over it as well. For the past few weeks, it''s been harder and harder to write chapters. Over the past three days, I''ve spent about four to six hours daily writing, and somehow, I only managed to get approximately 2,452 words down. It''s fucking horrifying. And no, this isn''t even a problem about planning or lack of preparation like what caused me to hit the block in my last fiction. It''s just somehow harder to put the words down. Before, I could breeze through 5k word chapters in just two days, but now, it feels like every single word takes an eternity to write. I think I''ve burnt myself out, as after re-reading what I''ve had down so far, it''s clear that there''s a decline in quality, and there''s no way I''m releasing that out here, and to the people that support me. I don''t want to release crappy chapters, so I won''t.Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon. Thanks to all the Patrons that have supported me so far. I was really trying to avoid something like this for you guys, but it seems inevitable with the current state of things. I don''t know when I''ll bounce back and start releasing chapters again, but trust that I won''t be going on an absurdly long hiatus like six months or even over a year. I''ll keep my Patreon up for the people who want to read the remaining five chapters I have out there, but you guys are in no way obligated to keep yourselves pledged during my downtime. Any support I''ve already gotten has been great already. Anyways, with that said, I won''t drag this out for any longer. Dissonance is ded, and he''ll need to gather a couple child sacrifices by himself to get back on his feet. I''ll be off for a while, but I won''t be gone. I''ll still be alive on my Discord, so if any of you want to ask for some updates, comment on here or ask me directly there. I''m a ping away. So, yeah. Instead of dying and releasing garbage, I''ll just take a break. I''ll stop worrying about writing, since it isn''t a good idea to do anything while stressed out. I''ll enjoy my summer break for a bit, take a couple walks or jogs outside, spend some time with my friends who I haven''t been talking to recently, and scream over a couple games with them. For now, I''ll be off to have a little fun. Again, bye guys, and see you later. Book 3, Chapter 12: Portal Necromancer and Co., Book 3: The Underearth
Chapter 12: Portal
[Alen] The change in atmosphere was palpable, and Alen found himself settling into a different mindset. A persona¡ªa piece of himself he only reserved for when things would see blood. As the roar rang out throughout the cave, Alen was already moving. His party had settled onto a similar state of action. The group of Kavarith splintered into different directions. Lynn jumped off her mount, and Alen sent the one mounted by his summon to the front. Sam was positioned in the back. No less than a second after they positioned themselves did the wave of Gorebats exit their nest. A mass of wing, claw, and teeth exited the cave in the form of hundreds of bats. Each was the size of a dinner plate, but Alen knew that the deceptively small bats were a bigger threat than their size suggested. The bats at the front end of the mass crashed through a pillar. The stalagmite was sliced apart like butter. They approached, and Alen¡¯s eyes scanned their bodies. Large heads and a dozen eyes on each bat, the creatures stared down at them as they approached. Swarms were his specialty. Alen pushed a large amount of magic into a tooth in his hand and lobbed it at the swarm. It expanded rapidly, a massive blob of enamel. He channeled his magic. Skeletal Detonation. The mass exploded into a hail of tiny shards, blowing outward like a shotgun blast. Bats screeched in the masses as dozens fell victim, dying from several deep wounds. Alen¡¯s mind was in overdrive, his Intelligence stat allowing him processing capabilities that were beyond human. The shards were still flying in the air when he selected ones that had flown into thick segments of the swarm. He used Skeletal Detonation¡¯s predecessor. Skeletal Rupture. Each of the shards was a strand connected to him. His magic flowed through the connections and spurred on the growth. Like a massive urchin, the shards he selected frantically expanded, hundreds upon hundreds of needle-like extensions spearing into bats all around the shard. More fell, but the effect was noticeably weaker. Needlepoints shattered against fur and hide, unable to kill bats in succession. Alen cursed and backed up, his Kavarith mount leaping back. The bats¡¯ wings blurred, and an almost invisible distortion passed through the air. It slammed into the ground where Alen was before. Immediately, the ground produced a screeching noise as hundreds of tiny scratches formed with each blur that crashed into it. Like scar tissue, the ground was gouged and torn until a large, ugly mark was left where he was standing before. ¡°Lynn!¡± he yelled. ¡°On it!¡± she replied, and Alen was only able to take cover behind a large boulder before two of the crystals on her bow glowed a bright red and yellow. Not even a second later, a blur of molten rock and immense weight left the string of her bow and sailed into the swarm. Bats lit up in flames as it passed, and bones were crushed as it tore through one bat after another. Seeing the momentary distraction, Lynn fired off more elemental arrows into the swarm, detonating them and wreaking havoc where the bright lights flashed. The bats swerved and began to surge down on her. Alen watched closely, preparing to intervene. Lynn¡¯s form suddenly grew misty, and then, she took a step. She moved past the mass in a single leap, the monsters phasing through her as if she was a mirage. She emerged from the other side and followed up with a volley of ice arrows. Each tore into multiple bats before losing its strength. She drew her bow and loosed another arrow of fire and earth, before detonating it. The resulting explosion caused a rift to appear on where the swarm had been struck, and the three of them were allowed a look at the matriarch that lurked within the mass. It was massive, more eyes than any other bat, and giant, leathery wings that buzzed and vibrated with the same energy that tore the ground apart. It was nowhere near as massive as the Demonblood Bat from the Crawling Canyon, but its torso alone was easily the size of a car. It screeched, and the sound felt like a physical concussive force, throwing Alen back as he tried to rush in. Lynn was similarly hurled back, rolling across the dirt. Alen sent his summons in.Necrotic Blessing: Deathfire. The Kavarith tore into the swarm like a predator would into a fresh morsel. Their claws cut and shredded, and the black and white flames than enshrouded them grievously wounded any of the monsters that came in contact. The Xargith warrior was even stronger, each sweep of his large blade raking through the mass of beasts. Magic was rapidly released as Alen conjured bone spear after bone spear through his summons, striking surrounding bats like an endless barrage. A sudden wave of cold air swept past.Sam.A large amount of the remaining swarm died, frozen solid. Before they could fall, they exploded, once again sending bullets of ice piercing out in all directions, indiscriminately killing anything it hit. One of Alen¡¯s Kavarith fell victim to it, the bones crumbling with each bullet until the summon died, the fragments of the soul within it finally dissipating. Sam pulled the shards of ice to him, the mass churning and swirling around him like a hurricane of glass. They smashed onto one another, forming a large, humanoid creature with short legs and long, blade-like arms that extended from its shoulders to the floor. An ice golem. Alen nodded and prepared to destroy more of the swarm with a spell when the matriarch screeched one again. The concussive force came, but Alen was prepared. He braced himself against a rock, the force punching him against it. He grunted.Numb Senses.Alen looked up to see the swarm begin to swirl in a pattern, surrounding the giant bat. His eyes widened. ¡°Take cover!¡± he shouted, just as Lynn dashed into a nearby corner, and as Sam encased himself within his golem, forming a protective cocoon. Alen was too late. Blurs and splotches of distorted air beamed out in all direction from the swarm, raking through stone and rock like butter. One struck Alen on the right arm. His gauntlet screeched, but remained undamaged. Another slammed into his side and another into his chest. The plates of armor shattered, and he felt a slight pain rocket through Numb Senses as his flesh was shredded by the strike. More were coming. He channeled his magic and cast one of his new spells. Skeletal Vajra. Over a tenth of his massive mana pool disappeared immediately. Bone shards and teeth slotted into his robes exploded into growth, covering him from head to toe in super enhanced bone and enamel. The spell took the form of a terrifying suit of armor, not unlike the one his summon wore. From the boots of the armor, spikes of bone covered in Blightwater speared into the ground, melting through it like acid. Hooked ends grew when they¡¯d penetrated deep enough, rooting him to the earth. He clenched his teeth inside of the armor. He couldn¡¯t see, and he could barely move. The Mana Sense Sam had taught him gave him a vague awareness of the outside, and the seemingly endless attacks that struck his armor relentlessly. The Gorebats had draped around his armor, beating their wings against it and inflicting mounting damage with the magic thrumming across their bodies. The wounds on his torso were bleeding, the scrapes more focused on inflicting heavy bleeding than instant damage. Alen activated Drain Vortex, and a large area around him fell under its influence. The bats closest to the armor started shrieking miserably, withering up as motes of life force flooded towards the vortex¡ªAlen, at the center. The wounds began to knit up. Alen¡¯s eyes shone like emeralds in the darkness of his armor. ¡°Deathchill Pulse,¡± he whispered. The blurs striking the armor disappeared as an expanding globe of Deathchill surged out of his armor and cut into the mass enshrouding him. Flesh blackened and nerves disintegrated as the chill swept out, killing the bats closest to him. Then, as it reached the crest of its expansion, it began to surge back into Alen, the improvements he¡¯d made to the spell amplifying the effects of Drain Vortex at the same time. The bubble shrunk back into him, and with it, it brought forth a sea of vitality. Alen¡¯s wounds closed completely, as if they hadn¡¯t been there at all. He launched bone spears lathered in Deathfire from his fortress of armor in quick succession, killing off any stragglers in his range. Booms rang out from the outside. Sam and Lynn had launched their counter attack. His armor crumbled away, and he was greeted by a sea of corpses in a large radius around the range of his magic. Raise Greater Undead. Souls reeled back into the corpses, and Alen suppressed the surge of animal instincts that suddenly attacked his mind. He smashed the resistance to pieces, the simple creatures too weak to overcome the mental fortitude his Wisdom stat provided him. The bats rose from the grave and charged into the fray, turning on what used to be their brethren. Lynn and Sam attacked with them, engaged in a fierce battle with the Matriarch Gorebat. Alen took a large, sharp tooth fragment from inside his robes. The broken piece alone was the size of his entire palm. He threw it to the ground. It bubbled, and then it grew. A long head, and rows of sharp teeth. A curving spine formed, and a lashing tail at the end. The bones connected with one another, supporting the entire structure further like the foundation supporting a building. It had four legs, each ending in wickedly sharp claws. Horns and spikes and spurs that looked like stalagmites extended from the bones, two especially long horns grew from its head, arcing to spear at the space in front of its face. It stood tall, dwarfing even the houses found in the City of Pillars¡¯s lower district. Excitement burned in his chest. The Stone Drake had formed. Alen jumped up and mounted it, his gauntlets crackling with the terrifying light of his Deathfire. Magic was burned every second, but the enormous sea of magic he held within his body wasn¡¯t the kind the average mage reached at his threshold. He strengthened the flames further. Sam was gliding across the ground, ice forming in his wake. Taking Alen¡¯s example, he propelled himself quickly with pillars of ice at his feet, avoiding the shredding force the Matriarch Gorebat had shot from its wing. His ice golem smashed its arms into it, sending it reeling as Lynn¡¯s arrows tore through hide and inflicted compounding elemental effects. The intensity of the Deathfire in Alen¡¯s gauntlet grew, the Necrotic-type magic stone socketed into it burning with a deathly light. Lynn kicked the matriarch hard, and it stumbled back further. She peppered it with arrows, along with ones her Halt Arrow spell had kept in suspended animation in the air. A near-uncountable amount of arrows slammed into the monster. Alen moved. His drake sprung, and within moments, he was in front of the matriarch. The Deathfire¡¯s strength reached a brutal crescendo. His eyes flashed, and he jumped with a bone spear at the bottom of his boots. The drake crashed into the matriarch, roaring as it pinned the large bat to the ground. Alen plummeted down from the ceiling, and his fist clenched underneath the gauntlet, the flames crackling violently. Like a meteor, he plummeted down and splayed his palm, channeling the spell with a powerful roar that the Matriarch Gorebat met with its own. The attacks clashed. ¡°Deathflare Blast!¡± ¡ªo¡ª Adam watched the shining shortsword on his lap in satisfaction. He¡¯d finally finished it, and it was with the perfect timing that he did. He looked up at the passage opening up just ahead. In a few more minutes, it would be fully open, and they would be able to pass. Speaking of which¡­ He looked up. In the distance, he could make out the forms of Alen and the others through the darkness, the two orbs of light that orbited around Alen and Sam respectively giving him a clear view of their features. Lynn was beside them, a satisfied smile on her face as she drained the magic from a cloudy mana stone in her hands. It was from the monsters, no doubt. The mana in the Underearth was rich enough that even mana stones could form within the heads of powerful monsters, a fact that he had a hard time coming to terms with. If it happened to monsters, then did he have a stone in his head too? He didn¡¯t like that. Adam stood up and stretched, straightening his clothes out with a patting down from his hands. He placed the new shortsword into its sheath, placing it just beside his dagger on the other side of his waist. He waved his hand at the carving knife, and it teleported into existence just short distance from his hands. He fumbled a little, trying to catch it, then put it into his pack. Damn,he thought. Despite his efforts with practicing, his magic didn¡¯t seem to be improving in the slightest. Adam sighed and quietly conceded to his fate. If his main affinity was broken and couldn¡¯t be used, then so be it. Wind and wood were as good affinities as any. If Sam could be that strong with something as simple as ice, he would find a way as well. Adam walked up to the three and raised a hand in greeting. ¡°Yo,¡± he said. Alen grinned and Sam nodded. Lynn hopped off from her seat behind Alen and raised a hand in greeting back. ¡°Yo!¡± she grinned, bumping fists with him. It was a gesture he¡¯d taught her, and she quite liked it apparently. Alen had called it a future death flag and refused to do it with them, so it had quickly become a handshake of sorts between the two of them. He placed his hand on Sam¡¯s shoulder. ¡°So? You gained a level or something?¡± ¡°Yeah,¡± Sam nodded. ¡°I¡¯m at the twenty-sixth threshold now. Better hurry up dude, whoever reaches thirty first gets a free meal from the other guy.¡± ¡°I¡¯malmost at thirty,¡± Alen pointed out, leaning against his Kavarith mount.Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author. ¡°Eh,¡± Adam shrugged. ¡°You¡¯re pretty much addicted to grinding levels, so you don¡¯t count. Though when youdoreach thirty, you should treat everyone to dinner to celebrate, yeah? Yeah. You will.¡± ¡°What is with you people and asking me for free meals?¡± ¡°Because,¡± Lynn said, ¡°we want the good stuff and none of the money for it.¡± ¡°We want the good stuff,¡± Sam said. Adam nodded quickly. ¡°Whatever,¡± Alen said. ¡°We have more than enough money to feed ourselves anyways. I¡¯ll spare you stingy fuckers of paying for a meal you can earn dozens of times over for killing a single notable monster.¡± ¡°They¡¯re annoying as hell to fight,¡± Adam said. ¡°The only reason you have that Stone Drake as a summon is because that death-water thing you do countered it hard.¡± ¡°Darkwater Surge.¡± ¡°It¡¯s soedgy.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll take it from the guy with a mobility skill called Fluttering Steps.¡± ¡°Shut up,¡± Adam said. ¡°It seemed cool when I named it.¡± ¡°Float like a butterfly¡ª¡° Sam started. ¡°¡ªand hit like a motherfucking truck,¡± Adam finished, grinning. ¡°When I get the build I¡¯m making rolling, you guys are going to be left in the dust.¡± Lynn laughed. ¡°Spread your wings, little butterfly. We¡¯ll follow the trail of glitter you leave behind.¡± Adam glared at her and crossed his arms. A small commotion was starting behind them, signaling that the rest of the ten-man expedition group was packing their things to leave. Adam patted the pack on his side. It had a few spatial runes etched into it, giving it a degree of storage that was as large as a sizeable duffel bag. He felt pretty proud, being the only one in the party that didn¡¯t have to worry about a place to store the things he brought with him in an expedition. He caught Lynn staring at the bag with a wry smile. ¡°What?¡± he asked. ¡°Nothing,¡± she shook her head, then mounted the skeletal form of the Kavarith once again. She pointed at Vexxaron, who was already making his way into the passage. ¡°Hey, Alen! Get over here so we can get moving already. I¡¯m excited to see this cult everyone¡¯s talking about.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t think that¡¯s something to be excited about,¡± Alen said, climbing up in front of her. She scooted back, her feet dangling off the side as she put an arm on his shoulder for support. ¡°Aw, come on. They¡¯re trying to summon a god and we¡¯re about to crash the party. It¡¯s like one of those stories the bards and minstrels sing about.¡± ¡°Actually, if we do this well enough, do we get a song?¡± ¡°I dunno,¡± Lynn shrugged. ¡°There are no bards with us, so we¡¯ll have to retell the story to one and convince them that we¡¯re great enough for a good ballad.¡± ¡°Easy,¡± Alen said, and Adam left them to it, letting their banter continue on. As he walked away, a Kavarith approached him and lowered its head full of cat-like, grinning teeth, offering him the saddle on his back. Adam glanced at the necromancer and saw the little smile Alen had on his face. Adam let the magic building inside of him dissipate as he clambered onto the mount. It rose in the same way a camel stood up from a sitting position, and only then could Adam appreciate how tall it was. Being around and fighting giant monsters all the time, he only really realized just how large the skeleton of the creature was. It stood and began to walk without any orders, only following the ones the necromancer gave it. He glanced at Alen. He didn¡¯t even look bothered by the effort, almost like controlling the undead was as natural as blinking. Altogether, he sat, and even as his feet dangled off of the side, they were easily two meters off the ground. The damn thing was the size of a carriage. Adam sighed and checked his status.Twenty-fifth threshold,he mentally noted. Just the tiniest gap of a distance away from the twenty-sixth. He could feel it, the magic, churning and building inside of his body. Like the waves of the ocean, it smashed and roiled within him, every wave stronger than the last¡ªeach crest higher than the first. Adam waved his hand at a pebble a distance away. It appeared in his hands, more luck than effort, it seemed. The waves in his body stilled, the pressure released. Adam closed his fist around the pebble. A light flashed. When he opened it, the pebble was gone. He looked around and found it a distance away from his intended location. He sighed. Once again, he teleported it to him. It clattered to the ground, appearing just below his hand. He frowned. Why did things always teleport near his waist? Adam channeled his magic again, and the pebble once again teleported away. Once more. Failure. Again. Disappointment. He groaned, vexed as his failed attempts mounted. He practiced in frustration, unaware of the blades that hummed near his waist. ¡ªo¡ª The portal was unassuming, inconspicuous. It rose above the ground, crude and crackling with weak, unstable energy. Instead of the polished rune-pillars surrounding the ones Alen usually traveled with, the portal or rather, the teleportation formation was etched into tall rocks with runes he failed to recognize. It glowed in reds and yellows, the energy so weak it seemed to struggle to even exist. Dust carpeted some of the markings, further increasing the atmosphere of incompetence that surrounded the portal. Dieter walked past him, talking to Razzan as they observed the portal. ¡°It seems quite¡­ crude,¡± said the older Hunter. ¡°They disguised the portal like this,¡± Dieter said. He pointed up, and Alen followed his finger to look up at the long, winding pit they¡¯d had to descend in order to get to the portal. It was hidden, but not with so much effort that is was suspicious. ¡°It looks like an amateur¡¯s work,¡± Lynn said, ¡°like it was created by someone who was trying to learn rune-writing for portals and was too embarrassed to put it in an obvious place.¡± ¡°I see now,¡± Razzan nodded, brushing away some of the unnaturally thick dust. The runes underneath glowed brighter than the rest, the magic visibly looping within the words. ¡°If someone took a glance at this portal, the first thought that would come to their heads would be that it was unstable.¡± ¡°And unstable portals have a reputation for teleporting people into walls,¡± Alen said, the realization dawning. Disguised like an amateur¡¯s work, the portal was not only in an extremely remote area that only became accessible once or twice a month, it was also crude enough that it would dissuade any passersby from getting near it. After all, some portals didn¡¯t need an activation sigil to function, and most people didn¡¯t know enough about rune-writing to risk getting teleported into a dangerous place. ¡°Exactly,¡± said Dieter, making sure everything was in order. He nodded, satisfied. ¡°The portal hasn¡¯t been tampered with,¡± he said. ¡°So we¡¯ll be entering when?¡± Sam asked, throwing a cube of ice into his mouth. He crunched on it, chewing lazily. ¡°We¡¯ll go over the plan one more time,¡± said Dieter, ¡°then we¡¯ll enter.¡± ¡°Good,¡± said Adam, ¡°because I wasn¡¯t listening the first time.¡± Dieter gave him an annoyed look as the group crowded around him. Alen stood beside Lynn and Vexxaron, arms crossed. He couldn¡¯t afford to mess up the plan and screw up in the heart of enemy territory, so hehadto listen intently, lest he end up endangering everyone with him. Dieter nodded, and Vexxaron stepped forward, his red-scaled figure as imposing as ever. He stood a whole head taller than Razzan, who was even taller than Alen. The lizardman looked over everyone present and nodded. Vexxaron opened his mouth to launch into an explanation when a red glow lit up his back. Alen¡¯s eyes flashed to the glowing runes of the formation. The portal had activated. Everyone burst into action. Alen shot away with a bone spear, shooting into the darkness and enshrouding himself in a thick veil of Numbing Mist, further pressing his dark-clothed figure into the shadows. Lynn Ice-walked up the wall and hide behind an outcrop. Sam jumped and froze himself onto the ceiling. Adam used Fluttering Steps, planting his feet and hands on the ceiling, keeping himself up as he faced down. Alen noted Dieter, Razzan, and the two toher hunters, who similarly melded into the shadows. Everyone had hidden themselves, and yet, even Alen was unable to keep up with Vexxaron, who seemed to have disappeared into thin air with a quick flash of fiery sparks. Embers fell to the ground where he stood, faintly glowing with traces of golden light. Alen retracted his Mana Sense from the portal. Any skilled mage would have discovered it. Instead, he threw the shells of small insects onto the ground. They immediately animated, scuttling forward. The small swarm would sense for him. Finished, Alen retreated further and lathered himself in darkness so thick that even his eyes couldn¡¯t see through it. The light of the portal died down, and four figures emerged from the formation. Each of them wore dark red robes, faces hidden in the shadows cast by the light above. Spellcasters,Alen immediately recognized. These were the same kind of people that were sent out to take out and abduct chosen. He¡¯d caught glimpses of them multiple times after rushing to the scene of an attack, and Vexxaron had filled him in on the rest of the details. Hemomancy, Spirit Magic, and vicious curses. They¡¯d been the division led by the Torturer, Grizelda, who Alen had killed more through luck than power. Pain, incapacitation, and soul-ripping were their specialty. They stepped forward, a navigation device held in the hands of the one in the lead. They walked with duty, but suddenly paused. The lead cultist looked down to stare at the golden embers ahead. Immediately, the group of fanatics tensed. They arranged themselves in a circle, hands raised to erect ghostly, transparent shields all around them. Faces flashed through the surface of the shields, angry and sorrowful. Wailing, but without a sound. They approached the embers warily. Alen heard them speak under their breaths, conversing in a language that wasn¡¯t Common. Alen heard scraps of the Kivotl race¡¯s dialect. Fish men? He frowned. The Kivotl had a good affinity for all kinds magic. This needed to be finished, and quick. The group finally reached the space in front of the embers. The lead cultist pointed his palm at the smolders, a purple mosaic of light swirling in his hand. His shoulders tensed, ready to wipe out the possible threat. He prepared to strike. Alen¡¯s group struck first. A red-scaled fist materialized in thin air, the fist forming first as it smashed into the shields. Souls surged out as the cultist stepped back, assaulting Vexxaron, but failing as the light surrounding his fist burned away at their very beings. He grabbed his blade, and with a quick slash, the shield shattered, and the hand of the cultist preparing the spell fell, severed. Vexxaron finished him with a stab to the heart. The cultists turned on him, but before they could react, the rest surged in. Adam fell from the ceiling, a stone in his hands. The cultist at the back of the formation turned and fired a projectile at him. He threw the stone, and it tapped against his boot. Fluttering Steps. He shot towards the ground diagonally, avoiding the attack. A blade of blood rose from the cultist¡¯s robes, but his feet froze as he turned to strike with it. Sam. The ice ran up his leg. Adam hit the ground and used his skill again. His shortsword was a flashed, followed by a trail of blood as the cultist¡¯s head flew into the air. Simultaneously, Alen charged from the darkness, breaking the shroud of mist that surrounded him. The keratin around his left arm ballooned explosively, coating around his arm much like the gauntlet wrapping over his right. It grew further, the size of the gauntlet reaching a size as large as his body by the time he¡¯d reached the battle. He smashed it into the shield of a cultist, and the Kivotl man staggered back. Alen urged his magic to flood into the gauntlet. Skeletal Detonation. It exploded like a shotgun¡¯s blast, raking holes through the shield. Vengeful specters flooded out and surged into his chest. He dominated them, sending the spirits back out to attack their previous master. The cultist reeled, the surprise underneath his hood evident. Arrows of ice rushed over Alen¡¯s shoulders like blue flashes of lightning in the dark. They pierced the fanatic¡¯s robes, sending purple ichor spurting into the air. The blood arced, turning into a scythe-head that slashed down towards Alen¡¯s chest. He blew a stream of Blightwater into it, breaking up the blood as the rot of his spell fought against it. Both spells cancelled the other out, and the cultist barely had another moment of life before an arrow penetrated his eye socket, ending his life. The last cultist died in the same instant. Panicked and surprised, he was easily picked off by Dieter¡¯s group, attacked on all four sides. He lost his life to a blade of white flame that Dieter swept to the side, channeled over the tip of his spear like a second blade¡ªa curve of concentrated flame that traced over the spear¡¯s edge. It cut into his neck, cauterizing wounds and destroying arteries as it passed. Alen relaxed his tense shoulders and gathered the bugs that he had summoned. They crawled into his robes and into a couple of the dozens of pockets he kept within. He severed the connection, and they lost all animation, lifeless once again. Adam approached him, flicking the blood off his blade. He had a frown on his face. ¡°I know we agreed to come at them with lethal force,¡± he said, ¡°but even after seeing the kind of fucked up shit they do, it doesn¡¯t feel good to know that this sword¡¯s first kill is a person.¡± ¡°You alright?¡± asked Alen. ¡°Yeah,¡± his friend nodded. ¡°It just feels like a bad omen, I guess. It doesn¡¯t sit well with me.¡± ¡°I¡¯d be surprised if it did,¡± said Alen, watching the shards of keratin on the floor disintegrate. He unconsciously rubbed his scarred palm with his gauntleted right hand. The metal was cold to the touch. He pulled his hand away, clenching his gauntleted fist tight. He nodded at Adam.On to the next battle,he thought, walking towards the rest of the party. ¡°¡­could use these,¡± he caught Razzan saying, the large-eyed Kaeri man stripping the robes from one of the corpses. ¡°We could,¡± Vexxaron agreed. ¡°It won¡¯t fool them for long, but it will give us an advantage. Who will be wearing them?¡± ¡°I will,¡± said Dieter. ¡°Distribute the rest to the others.¡± Vexxaron nodded and donned the cloak. Dieter got to work in stripping the next one. The blood was unnoticeable, soaked deep into the crimson fabric of the robes. Alen approached the now cloaked lizardman. ¡°I can make more of these,¡± Alen said, ¡°but you¡¯ll have to help me recreate the design in AutoBone. I think I can tint my keratin in this color with a bit of tweaking. Just need to get it right.¡± ¡°How many can you make?¡± ¡°Provided I can get the design down? I can clothe everyone in a cloak. Making it could take as long as thirty minutes.¡± ¡°Can you finish in fifteen?¡± ¡°I can try,¡± said Alen. ¡°Mind if I pluck one of your scales?¡± Vexxaron pulled one from the back of his hand. It came free easily, blood at the tip. The wound was already beginning to heal, a new scale rising in its place. Alen took the scale and cleaned it on the fabric of his robes. He muttered a thanks under his breath, then moved off, taking a cloak from Dieter. He sat down, then began replicating the design. The creation process wasn¡¯t as rough as he expected it to be, his expertise in creating things on AutoBone displayed fully as he corrected the length and volume of the robes. He thinned them, making them loose in places where the others could easily hide their weapons. He made the hoods more effective in hiding their faces, creating a specialized one for Alexandrius¡¯s uncle, whose face was long and reptilian. Finally, he finished, the design coming together relatively well. He took the scale in his hand, and with a surge of magic, the robes expanded out from the crimson keratin, droopy and voluminous in his grip. Alen tore off a sample and mended the tear, then created more robes, repeating the process. The entire procedure took twelve minutes. Alen tossed a robe to each individual present, before tossing one over himself, layering it over the thick plates of super enhanced keratin that covered large parts of his robes. He pulled up the hood, adjusting it to make sure that it wouldn¡¯t fall back or over his face. Finished, he nodded to himself and faced Lynn, who he only recognized due to the snow-colored hair that spilled over her shoulders and down the side of her face under the hood. ¡°How do I look?¡± he asked. ¡°Fanatical,¡± she praised, nodding. ¡°Maybe a touch deranged, even.¡± ¡°Excellent,¡± he grinned and faced the portal. He turned to Dieter. ¡°We¡¯re going?¡± ¡°Yes,¡± Dieter said. ¡°Vexxaron?¡± ¡°We continue with the original plan, but with a new tactic due to the robes. The slight difference in color should be unnoticeable in dim light. Stick to the shadows,¡± he said, his eyes moving over everyone present. ¡°We are infiltrating the base of operations of the Cult of the Dark One. There is no room for mistakes. I assume everyone knows their roles?¡± A round of nods filled the room. The lizardman nodded, satisfied as he turned into the portal. He disappeared into a vortex of darkness, one that looked like it sucked in all the light of the surrounding area¡ªas if it was the mouth of a beast swallowing the prey that walked straight into its maw. One of the hunters entered with him. Alen watched everyone else enter in pairs, then, with a nod to Lynn beside him, he grabbed her arm and entered, the scar in his palm burning hot despite the cold. In spite of everything, he felt the same dumb smile he always had creep into his face. These fanatics were going to besomad at him after this. Book 3, Chapter 13: Kept in Reserve Necromancer and Co., Book 3: The Underearth
Chapter 13: Kept In Reserve
[Alen] Flame-like lights shone from yellow rocks mounted on sconces affixed to the walls of the spiral staircase. It was dim, foreboding. Shadows and silhouettes danced in the shade as a group of ten ascended. The one at the lead was a man, his big eyes scanning the corridor at the end of the steps. He nodded. ¡°Clear,¡± Razzan said, in his unmistakable accent. He moved forward, and the rest followed. Alen¡¯s hands were tense at his sides as they crept onward, his thoughts a continuous ramble to keep himself focused. Head help high, shoulders straight,he told himself.Move casually¡ªwith purpose. You know what you¡¯re doing. You¡¯re a cultist right now, not an intruder. You intend to sacrifice children to dark gods. You¡¯re a pretentious religious fanatic. Think pretentious things. May the Dark One bring us salvation. The pagans will fall, and their families will watch from their stakes as they burn one by one¡­ or something. The group turned, and a hand grasped his arm and pulled him back to stop him from getting lost. Lynn raised a brow at him from under her hood. ¡°What the hell are you doing?¡± she asked, voice a whisper. ¡°I pray for your endless suffering in the name of the Dark One,heretic,¡± Alen hissed. She gave him a look. ¡°Did you just hiss at me?¡± she said. He furrowed his brows. ¡°Look,¡± Alen said, ¡°I¡¯m trying to get into character alright? We¡¯re cultists right now. Think pretentious cultist things. We need to fit in.¡± ¡°Quiet down back there,¡± Vexxaron glared. ¡°If you want to fit in, shut up.¡± ¡°Okay sorry,¡± Alen said, lowering his voice. He looked at Adam, who joined his hands together under the baggy sleeves. ¡°Adam,¡± he whispered. ¡°What?¡± ¡°What do we do if they get suspicious?¡± ¡°We make them not suspicious,¡± Sam pointed out, putting a finger to his lips. ¡°Shhh.¡± ¡°But what ifthatdoesn¡¯t work?¡± asked Alen. ¡°We knock ¡®em out,¡± Lynn took on a stance and punched the air, imitating knocking someone out. She shook her hands at an invisible crowd. Together with her cultist robes, the scene really looked quite disturbing. ¡°We have to catch them off guard, though,¡± she quietly said, resuming her serious stance as they encountered another group. Up ahead, a group of fanatics dressed in a mix of ceremonial robes and armor moved across the dim light. The corridor continued on to a splitting path, and they moved to the right, steps quick and measured. Alen tensed, but the group ahead paid them no heed, moving past.With purpose,Alen noted. He straightened his stance once again. Razzan led them forward, Vexxaron to his left. Dieter and the other hunters stalked behind them warily. Alen followed after. ¡°We need a signal,¡± Adam whispered. ¡°If there are more than one of them, we have to strike at the same time.¡± Sam nodded. ¡°How about ¡®Now!¡¯?¡± ¡°Too obvious,¡± Lynn said. ¡°Something to catch them off guard.¡± ¡°A love confession?¡± Adam offered. ¡°Not confusing enough.¡± ¡°How about a really bad pun?¡± Sam said. Lynn tilted her head. ¡°Like?¡± ¡°We ask them: ¡®Did the Dark One speak to you last night too? He told me something. He said it was really important.¡¯ and when they answer, you say something really stupid, then we punch them while they¡¯re stunned from the secondhand-embarrassment puns cause.¡± ¡°Good enough,¡± Lynn nodded. ¡°Am I the only one who¡¯s nervous as fuck here?¡± Alen said, eyeing another group of people in cultist attire. The group passed them again, seemingly in a rush. ¡°We¡¯re thresholds above most of these guys,¡± Sam pointed out. ¡°If they get suspicious, we can knock them out quickly without too much trouble. Stay calm man. You¡¯ll give us away if you keep looking around suspiciously like that. Try to uh, practice your fanatic-speech.¡± Alen nodded and furiously started muttering under his breath. Eventually, they stopped at the entrance to a large room. It seemed to be a center of sorts, more of a hub that contained a collection of entryways and passages than a room that people lingered in. For the purpose it served, it was surprisingly empty. No cultists passed through the doors and halls, and only the soft hum of the torch-stones mounted on the walls echoed through the room. Razzan nodded and looked back at them. ¡°Do you all remember the plan?¡± They nodded, and Alen pursed his lips. ¡°I know I¡¯m not the best person to be saying this, but doesn¡¯t splitting up sound like a horribly bad idea?¡± ¡°It is, but staying together is worse,¡± Dieter said. ¡°If you¡¯ve noticed, no groups move around with this many people. It¡¯s only a matter of time before someone gets suspicious and stops us for a check. If we split up, we can cover more ground and reduce suspicion.¡± ¡°And if anything happens,¡±Vexxaron¡¯s voice rang out inside of everyone¡¯s heads,¡°use the party voice transmissions to notify everyone as soon as you can.¡± Razzan nodded. ¡°That should be all,¡± he said. ¡°Remember, our main objective is rescue. Find the people they¡¯ve abducted, and meet back up with us at the portal. Avoid direct confrontation at all costs, and if any happen, end it as quickly as possible and report.¡± ¡°Alright,¡± Alen said, and the rest of their group departed, picking passages to enter. He looked back at the people who were to go with him. ¡°So,¡± Adam said, ¡°let¡¯s get going, yeah?¡± ¡°Remember guys,¡± said Sam, ¡°if they get suspicious and we¡¯re in danger of being caught, you guys know what to do.¡± Lynn nodded seriously. Alen sighed and led the way. The followed behind him as he entered one of the passages. It was different from the others. Unlike the cramp passage that led to the portal, this one was large and grand. It arced upwards, and lights shone down from above, casting shadows over their faces. Mirrors and glass lined the hall, and through the tint, Alen spotted something that sparked a brief sense of familiarity in him. He frowned and approached the glass. The tint and coloring was thick, and the glass was blurred¡ªnot something that was made to see through. However, through it all, he could vaguely make out lights¡ªa flickering mass directly below the passage they were in. ¡°What¡¯s up?¡± Adam asked, leaning in. ¡°There¡¯s something outside,¡± Alen said. ¡°Lynn, can you make sure the coast is clear?¡± ¡°Got it.¡± Alen nodded and looked at the glass. Slowly, a small wisp of Deathfire formed on the tip of his fingers, manipulating the magic without a spell program with much more ease. He silently thanked his Control stat in his head. He looked around, and Lynn gave him a thumbs up from the entrance to the passage. Satisfied, he sent the flame forward. It burrowed into the glass, carving a small hole near the bottom of it and digging through until the wisp of black and white emerged from the other side. He stopped pouring magic into the fire, and it dissipated. Alen¡¯s eyes widened as he shot a look at Sam, who was already channeling his magic beside Alen. Fog had started to violently pour in from the hole in the glass. Alen backed away and Sam hurriedly froze it before the vapor could flood the room. The ice sealed the hole Alen had carved. ¡°Okay,¡± Alen said. ¡°That was probably a bad idea.¡± ¡°No shit,¡± Adam said, motioning towards the hall. ¡°Let¡¯s hurry up. We don¡¯t want to be left behind. We only have forty minutes before it¡¯s time to head back to the portal. I don¡¯t know about you, but I donotwant to be left in here without Vex.¡± ¡°He doesn¡¯t like being called that,¡± Lynn said. ¡°Said it reminded him of a really annoying friend.¡± ¡°Tirilius,¡± Alen remembered. ¡°The guy who was with Alexandrius.¡± ¡°Yeah, him,¡± she said, rubbing the white wooden ring she had around the index finger of her right hand. Alen noticed that she did that when she was uncomfortable lately. The habit had started after she¡¯d started putting the ring on for the first time. Was it something like the scar on his palm? Associated with an event that she remembered often? A memory sparked inside of Alen¡¯s mind. Dark, cavernous halls. Starving and dehydrated. Helpless and afraid. Weak. Alen shook his head free of the image. That was far in the past. He had grown. He wasn¡¯t the same dumbass who was thrust into a deadly situation for the first time anymore, as much as he wished he was. Alen led the way through the halls, flanked at his sides by Adam and Lynn, while Sam lingered at the back, eyeing the hall with the same sense of sloppiness and laziness he usually had around him. He seemed to care little. The necromancer knew that was far from the truth. Underneath his outer appearance and mannerisms, Alen considered Sam exceedingly intelligent. It was the case even before they¡¯d been taken into the Talarian continent back in the surface. Sam would always know what to do¡ªhow to exploit things best. Pulling off builds that never should have worked in games, knowing which mechanics to abuse¡ªthe things to take advantage of that no other person thought about. He dominated each of them in chess, and his consistently impressive academic records were the highest of their group. Sam was a smart person, but they didn¡¯t treat him like one. It was their dynamic, somehow. Everyone respected him and his opinion on things, but it was never a question of doing the things he did. Alen had tried, and Adam had too. It wasn¡¯t because they looked down on Sam that they didn¡¯t do what he did, but because theycouldn¡¯t.Sam was smart in a way that didn¡¯t make sense. He was different from the rest of them in that regard. Heknewthings, and that was why when he stopped walking, the whole group stopped too. Alen stared at him. He stood, hands in his pockets with his eyes closed. Adam was beside Alen, arms crossed. Lynn watched, curious. Ever so slightly, Alen felt a pull of magic in the air. If it hadn¡¯t been for his obscenely inflated min/maxer stats, he was sure he wouldn¡¯t have noticed it. Something had rippled past his clothes. Sam was pulling something. Long moments passed. Adam was about to say something when Sam opened his eyes and grinned. ¡°Found something,¡± he said. Alen nodded, then looked at the rest of the party. ¡°Let¡¯s go.¡± The dark-haired Sam led them onward, the crimson robes he donned over his dark blue one spilling over the ground behind him like the waves lapping against the shore. Every moment that passed, he seemed to become more confident in what he had found, until eventually, it led them to a set of stairs that led straight down. It was dark, torches absent. ¡°Magelight?¡± Alen asked him.This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience. ¡°Nah dude,¡± Sam shook his head. ¡°If there are people down there, they might get suspicious. Rely on Mana Sense.¡± ¡°What about us?¡± Lynn pouted. ¡°You can see in the dark,¡± Alen pointed out. ¡°Just barely,¡± she said, almost sheepishly. ¡°And I don¡¯t like dark passages. I can do the woods, but tight places like these without any light creep me out.¡± ¡°You¡¯re claustrophobic?¡± ¡°What¡¯s that?¡± ¡°Never mind,¡± said Alen. ¡°Now that I think about it, the Underearth always had lights somewhere wherever we went, and you¡¯ve never joined me for any late-night mapping. No wonder I only found out about this now.¡± ¡°Oh!¡± She said. ¡°How about I stay back here, then?¡± Sam and Adam stepped into the passage, and Alen shook his head. ¡°Nonsense,¡± said Alen, grabbing the elf¡¯s hand. ¡°Let¡¯s go,¡± he said, then pulled her inside with him. Despite her strength being higher than his, she didn¡¯t resist. He let out a mental sigh of relief. If she¡¯d resisted, he probably would¡¯ve looked like he was pulling on mountain. That would¡¯ve been quite embarrassing. The darkness enveloped them, suffocating in its sheer mass. Like an ocean crushing down from above, they were pressed down on by the abyss, with only the steps at their feet to guide their way. With the magic dispersed in an area around Alen, he could vaguely sense things. The small crumbled parts of the walls, the cracks, the imperfections. The ruffle of his clothes, his breathing. Lynn, who fidgeted around behind him. He felt as if the mana sense was an extension of his awareness. Not like touch or sight or even smell, but another sense. One he couldn¡¯t explain. He guessed that was the result of taking tips from Sam, who did everything instinctually. He¡¯d already edited the spell to fit with his magic system, but he still only barely knew how itworked. Alen glanced back at Lynn, who was silent. ¡°You alright?¡± he whispered. ¡°I¡¯m okay,¡± she quietly said, ¡°but if you let go, I¡¯m shooting you in the foot with an arrow.¡± ¡°That sounds way too excessive.¡± ¡°Can we please hurry up? And I never said I was using amagmaarrow. Just a normal one, made of my ice.¡± ¡°Case in point.¡± ¡°Just keep walking,¡± she huffed. ¡°Yes, yes.¡± Alen led her forwards, the soles of his boots crunching against the dust of the staircase. Through his magic, he could vaguely sense Sam and Adam ahead, creeping down slowly. He motioned in the dark, and Lynn saw, quieting her steps further. As they descended, voices began to ring out from below. ¡°¡­and already left,¡± a woman said. ¡°We can¡¯t risk this. It¡¯s too dangerous.¡± Her voice was hushed, as if she was afraid of her voice traveling farther up the stairs. A man replied to her, voice low. ¡°He¡¯s an idiot, changing his mind like that. We can escape now, while the others are busy with the ritual. It¡¯s been three years, Risa. We can finally leave this place.¡± ¡°I know Tod, but please, hear me out. We can wait for when it¡¯s safer. We¡¯ve already done it for four years. We can do it again.¡± ¡°No,¡± the man said. ¡°Once they open that portal and drag us out there, we¡¯re done. Their god is going to put the entire cult under its thumb. We won¡¯t escape then. Not ever.¡± ¡°Is there really no way?¡± Alen and Lynn crept forward until they joined Sam and Adam at the base of the stairs. They peeked out, and saw two figures standing in front of a hall, cells and locked doors lined up neatly on each side of the walls. One of the figures was a woman dressed in the same red robes they wore, and another was a man, wearing the same ceremonial tribal armor that the cult¡¯s Xargith members wore. He raised his hand, and a faint red mark¡ªlike the tusk of a mammoth, lit up under his hand. ¡°I can¡¯t hide this forever,¡± the man said. ¡°My passenger¡¯s helping me mask my aura, but I can feel it. The second trial is coming, and if I don¡¯t leave, they¡¯ll know. They¡¯ll kill me, then you for hiding my status as a chosen.¡± Alen¡¯s eyes widened.Chosen.He looked closer, and found that underneath the layers of armor the man wore, his skin was pale. Too flushed to be one of the Kaer, too pale to be one of the Xargith. It was just the right color. Alen remembered their names. These two were human. He slowly stepped out of the shadows. He pulled down his hood, and flames of black and white burst from within his sleeve, burning away at the red robes and exposing the black gauntlet underneath. The green gem gleamed in the shroud of flames. The two humans backed away, and the man drew a spear, his eyes wide in fear. The rest of the robe burned away, and Alen stood, back in his normal equipment. He nodded at the two of them. ¡°Yo,¡± he said. The man named Tod gave him wary a look. Alen sighed. ¡°Okay look. You two are looking for an escape route?¡± ¡°Who¡¯s asking?¡± the woman said. ¡°Alen.¡± ¡°Why should we tell you?¡± ¡°Jesus fucking Christ,¡± Alen said. ¡°Let¡¯s not talk like this please. I haven¡¯t even been here for a year, and I don¡¯t want a reminder of how I¡¯ll probably be talking in another three years. Let me just put everything out there. You two are looking for an escape route, and whatever it was, it sounded like a bad idea. We were listening, and we have one ourselves. I¡¯m offering for you to join us.¡± ¡°Why?¡± Tod asked, spear not lowering in the slightest. ¡°Because,¡± Alen said, ¡°I¡¯m a great person. And less importantly, these cells are empty. These should be where the Chosen are held, right?¡± ¡°Yes,¡± Tod slowly said. ¡°They were taken a while ago. The Cult of the Dark One is starting its ritual later tonight. We were planning to escape while they were busy setting up.¡± ¡°Oh no,¡± Adam whispered from behind Alen. The man evidently tensed. Until he had spoken, he had not seen nor sensed Adam at all. How many more of these people were in here? How powerful were they? What did they want? He took a step back, and Alen sighed. ¡°You have any idea where this ritual room is?¡± he asked. ¡°We¡¯re here to rescue the chosen.¡± ¡°But that¡¯s¡­¡± the woman trailed off. ¡°It¡¯s suicide,¡± Tod finished. ¡°We¡¯ve been under this cult¡¯s thumb for three years. We¡¯ve seen what their core members can do. You¡¯re here to rescue the abducted chosen?¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± ¡°Go back the way you came until you reach the room with all the halls in it. Take the third passage from the one that led you here. There should be a set of stairs. They all lead to the same place. The sacrificial room¡¯s at the bottom,¡± he said, finally lowering his spear. He turned his back and put his hand over the woman¡¯s shoulders. He led her forward, and through the echo of his steps, Alen heard his voice once more. ¡°Good luck.¡± ¡°Yeah,¡± Alen nodded. ¡°Don¡¯t get killed.¡± Sam stepped up. ¡°If your plan doesn¡¯t work,¡± he said, ¡°we¡¯ll be meeting at the bottom portal in thirty minutes. The run-down one that leads to the region near Axel.¡± The man nodded and disappeared into the darkness ahead. Alen looked back at the rest of his party. ¡°Let¡¯s head there right now. I¡¯ll relay the location to the rest of the group.¡± His party members nodded. They ran up the stairs, taking two at a time. Alen pulled up the voice channel and called out. Vexxaron responded swiftly, and soon, the rest of the group was rushing towards the location Alen had specified. The hallways passed by in a blur, the torches on the walls looking like car lights in the highway. The entire place reeked of dust and blood, and the stench blew into his face as he ran. Alen turned a corner, his party just ahead of him. He was the slowest runner, after all. They ran through another hall, past the tinted glass Alen had burned a hole through. The ice had melted, and fog was beginning to seep through like tiny tendrils once again. For a moment, Alen thought it looked familiar. He shook his head and kept running, his thoughts racing. What would he do when they got there? What if Seith was there? What if those two other strong ones Vexxaron mentioned were there? What if it was an unknown enemy, stronger than the rest? Alen recalled the movements of the cultists. They hadn¡¯t been heading into that room, no. They were going somewhere else, congregating in a separate location. Why? A curse was muttered under his breath. He hated not knowing what he was up against. The lack of information would lead to many problems, many of which that could get them slaughtered. He was¡ª A figure passed by the hall to his left. Long, canine-like mask, and the same ceremonial armor that the rest of the cultists wore. The man was tall, muscular, evident even underneath the layers of heavy, dark armor he wore. He was accompanied by another cultist, one trailing behind him like an aide. The aide looked nervous, shoulders tensed. The two cultists only passed through his line of sight for a second, but it was enough. The armor type, the gait, the height, and the neatly trimmed beard of orange hair that ran down from his chin. He was almost unmistakable, like a d¨¦j¨¤ vu, a memory rekindled after a lengthy slumber. Alen recognized him immediately. Roland. He stopped in his tracks. Roland disappeared into another passage in the maze of halls that made up the Cult of the Dark One¡¯s headquarters, but Alen recognized it, even with the distance that separated them. One of the groups of cultists they¡¯d passed had entered that. Congregating. Roland was congregating¡ªwearing their armor. He was one of them. Alen twisted, and immediately shot after him with a pike from the bottom of his boots. His voice rang out in the heads of the rest of his party. ¡°Go ahead! I have to do something!¡± He didn¡¯t check to see if they followed. He passed a pillar and his feet skidded across the ground, slowing his momentum. He broke into a sprint. Immediately, he opened up the window for the party Lynn had started so long ago. His finger pressed down on the button hard, and he roared into it. ¡°Roland!¡±he shouted, the vague shape of his friend¡¯s back barely lit by the in the hall a distance away. The person in question stiffened. Aside from the party chat, his voice echoed through the whole passage. He wasn¡¯t wearing his disguise anymore. Roland¡¯s aide hurriedly conjured weapons of blood, hovering threateningly above him. Alen disregarded him and rushed forward, meeting eyes with Roland. He stopped a short distance away, and his old party member looked up at him silently. Alen stood his ground, keeping the blood weapons in the outer ranges of his senses, calculating how they would strike. He looked to Roland, but didn¡¯t find the proper words to say. Long moments passed. ¡°¡­You¡¯re one of them?¡± he finally said. ¡°Yes,¡± his friend replied. His voice was quiet¡ªquieter than it had ever been. He grasped the hilt of his blade in one hand, and Alen noticed the crisscrossing scars that lined his flesh. Alen pursed his lips, grim. ¡°What happened when we got separated?¡± ¡°I did what I could to stay alive,¡± said Roland. His aide frowned, as if trying to remember something. Alen ignored him. Roland was saying something. He was staying alive, he said, expressing the necessity of what he did to do it. Was Roland trying to say something? ¡°We looked for you,¡± Alen said. ¡°You didn¡¯t find me,¡± Roland replied, quiet. They didn¡¯t. ¡°We didn¡¯t, no. We came here to rescue the abducted chosen. I didn¡¯t expect to see you here, Roland. What is this?¡± ¡°My way of getting out of here,¡± he said, and the runes on his armor flared. Alen noticed that they were brighter¡ªmore powerful. More potent. Roland had improved. He was stronger now, and if things went south¡­ Alen wasn¡¯t sure if he could take the man on. But what he said¡­ Roland was making his goals clear. He wanted a way out of here too. ¡°So you¡¯re abducting and killing innocents?¡± Roland paused. He didn¡¯t reply. He doesn¡¯t approve of the cult¡¯s methods. It was simply the only option at the time. The scars on his hands, and the way he¡¯s reacting¡­ ¡°We¡¯re beating the shit out of these fuckers, Roland. I¡¯m saving these chosen, and I¡¯m using whatever means the cult has to open a portal to the fucking surface, and I¡¯m getting out of here. I¡¯m going to see the rest of my friends. Are you going to be one of them?¡± ¡°Should I attack, sir?¡± his aide asked, warily eyeing Alen. He was weak. Alen could sense it. His magic had already draped over the surrounding area. Everything was in his range of awareness. Roland¡¯s magic fluctuations were something to be worried about, but this man? He was weak. He wouldn¡¯t be able to do a thing to Alen. He watched Roland shake his head. He doesn¡¯t want a fight. ¡°You wouldn¡¯t be able to kill him,¡± Roland said, pushing the aide¡¯s arm down. He gave Alen a long look. ¡°Are you going to fight me?¡± Testing my resolve. ¡°If I have to.¡± ¡°My master Sieth is stronger than I am,¡± he said. There was a tremble in his voice. Quiet, deep. Almost unnoticeable. Alen recognized it. He knew it all too well.Fear. Alen slowly connected the dots together as Roland spoke. He was confirming it. ¡°He took you in, huh? I¡¯ll fight him if I have to as well. I¡¯m getting the fuck out of here.¡± ¡°You¡¯ll face him?¡± Roland whispered. This was it. The final push. His aide sensed something in the atmosphere and tensed. He began to back away. Alen felt himself grin. ¡°I¡¯ll shove my dick up his ass and make him scream.¡± Roland was silent, and then, he turned. The passage erupted into action. The weapons of blood from his aide slashed down as the man turned to flee. Roland conjured a shield from thin air and deflected the strike. When he twisted, the shield was gone, and a javelin made of ivory had replaced it. Alen casually destroyed the blade of crimson descending down on him with a splash of Blightwater, watching as Roland threw his javelin. It sailed, and the man dived, evading it. However, a sigil appeared where Roland had previously touched the aide¡¯s arm. The javelin turned midair and impaled him, the shockwaves turning his insides to mush. Blood fountained from his mouth as he fell, dead. Roland waved his hand, and a rune on the javelin glowed. It reappeared in his hand, where it disappeared into the bracer he wore with another flash of light. He looked up at Alen, and for a second, Alen saw red flash within the eyeholes of his mask. It was canine-like, and now, a single, red mark was etched onto the surface of the skull¡¯s forehead. Roland nodded at him, newly god-touched. ¡°Is there a slot open in your party?¡± ¡°Always kept one in reserve,¡± Alen said, pressing a button on a screen. Roland looked down on it and gave a little smile. He nodded. ¡°Let me get my things.¡±
System Message:
Roland has joined Necromancer and Co.!
Book 3, Chapter 14: Deathflare Blast Necromancer and Co., Book 3: The Underearth
Chapter 14: Deathflare Blast
[Sam] Sam ran across the halls, following just behind Adam and Lynn. He pulled on the magic in his body, and with ease, he manipulated it, melding the magic into his muscles¡ªstrengthening them to keep up with Adam and Lynn. They rushed forward, Alen¡¯s words in mind. He was handling something with that other party member apparently, and Sam silently congratulated him in his head. Now all they had to do was get out of here. His mana thrummed within the container that was his body, cycling all around it unlike Alen¡¯s magic, which felt like a calm, bottomless sea, or Adam¡¯s, who felt like an inflating balloon constantly threatening to burst out at the slightest agitation. His was a river¡ªmoving and cycling, changing and improving him with every loop. At the same time, it was also dough, a soft form ready to be molded into anything he wished. Sam let the magic flow out of his pores and reached out. His mana snaked through the maze of corridors and passages, scanning for any threats. It was a lot easier to focus when the search area wasn¡¯t so big. He silently thanked himself for making Mana Sense in his head. ¡°You¡¯re welcome, Sam,¡± he replied, nodding. Adam looked back at him. ¡°What?¡± ¡°Turn a left my dude,¡± Sam said, ignoring his question. ¡°We¡¯re getting close.¡± ¡°How about Dieter and the others?¡± Lynn asked. ¡°We¡¯re like, really far ahead. I don¡¯t sense them in my range,¡± he said. ¡°Let¡¯s wait before we enter the room or something. I don¡¯t want to get collapsed on by these guys, know what I¡¯m saying?¡± ¡°No,¡± Adam said. ¡°Not at all.¡± Sam shrugged. As he ran, he traced his hand along the walls.Dusty,he winced, carelessly wiping the dirt on his new cultist robes. They were nice. With the color, it didn¡¯t stain easily. He wasneverwearing white again. Ever. Not after that grape-juice incident. He shuddered, pulling his rolled-up sleeves down over his arms. He directed the group to move around another corner, cutting across what looked like a mess hall to enter another set of hallways. They rushed through, and he raised his hand. ¡°Stop!¡± His two party mates stopped and gave him a look. ¡°Okay so like,¡± he started, ¡°we¡¯rereaaallyclose to the room where they kill babies and slash goats¡¯ throats. Let¡¯s wait here for the others. I don¡¯t want to like, get killed by some OP dude as soon as we go in there.¡± ¡°Fair enough,¡± Adam shrugged, the magic around his body wearing off. Sam noticed how the pressure seemed to build again, waiting to be released. Looked like Adamreallywanted a burst-y build.His next spell is bound to be much stronger than normal,Sam noted.Makes the magic that follows a bit weaker though. He should make like, a dam or something. To keep the pressure from going past a certain threshold.He paused.A dam. Adam. Hah. He looked at Lynn an examined her. Immediately, he felt his Mana Sense recoil. As soon as it had entered a general area around her, the magic he sent out was drained¡ªabsorbed. She looked at him.She knew. Sam shrugged at her. ¡°What¡¯s up with your magic system, Lynn? Your magic keeps eating mine.¡± ¡°I¡¯m a tree,¡± she simply said, nodding once. ¡°That line will now be forever attributed to you,¡± said Adam. He smirked at her. ¡°I¡¯m not pretty like butterfly-boy admittedly,¡± she said, shaking her head disappointedly. ¡°I¡¯m just a plain ¡®ol tree.¡± ¡°Excuse me,¡± Adam said. ¡°My magic¡¯s literally me edging myself until I decide to let it out. Don¡¯t you dare compare it to something as nice as a butterfly.¡± ¡°You¡¯re right,¡± Lynn nodded. ¡°Horsefly, then.¡± Adam glared. Sam grinned at the sight. Lynn had been around them long enough that she assumed every word she didn¡¯t recognize was about something vulgar. The first time Alen had used the word gesticulation around her? Hilarious. Sam conjured some ice in his hands and habitually tossed it into his mouth. His ice was tasty as all hell, and crunching on it was just sosatisfying.Just for sure, he conjured another and ate it, wiping his wet hands on his robes. ¡°Where are all of you? We¡¯re close,¡±a voice said, in his head. Sam identified it as the lizard dude that Alen talked to a lot about the chosen stuff. It was cool. He¡¯d have been down to be a chosen too if a cult wasn¡¯t after them. ¡°We¡¯re close as well. Can you meet us at the hall adjacent to a mess hall in the area?¡± Adam asked. ¡°These halls are confusing,¡±Razzan¡¯s voice said.¡°We cannot find you without wasting time. We must hurry.¡± Adam looked at him. ¡°Sam?¡± ¡°Go¡¯ idh,¡± Sam replied while chewing on the ice. He reached out with his Mana Sense, the blanket of magic flowing through halls and passages. Hidden passages and crevices, missing doors and concealed rooms. Finally, he found them, a lizardman at the lead, with five others trailing behind. ¡°Deyhr at dhee uh,¡± Sam swallowed. ¡°They¡¯re at the halls somewhere to our left side. Tell them to take a right and keep going straight. We¡¯ll meet up with them at that point.¡± ¡°Aight,¡± Adam said. Lynn nodded and stood up, patting her clothes free of dust. Sam started running ahead without giving them a look. They were fast, anyways. They would catch up to him easy. He passed room after room, until one more came up ahead. Unlike the rest, the lights were on¡ªtorchstones flickering within. Sam peeked in and met the eyes of one of the cultists. He was on the bed, covered in bandages, evidently wounded. Sam approached him and the cultist stiffened up, before relaxing when he saw Sam¡¯s robes. He sighed. ¡°Why are you not with the rest of the congregation, brother?¡± asked the cultist. Sam paused. ¡°Congregation?¡± ¡°The congregation,¡± the man said, exasperated. ¡°Today is the big day. We¡¯re preparing for salvation, for it is coming. The Dark One is about to rise. It is only a matter of time. I can¡¯t believe I¡¯m going to miss it. I¡¯m a failure. Do me a favor, brother. Attend it in my place. Do not be asleep when He rises.¡± ¡°Oh,¡± Sam said. ¡°I was probably asleep when they announced it. You know me, good old sleepy¡­ Sammy.¡± The cultist frowned. ¡°I¡¯m sorry. I don¡¯t know who that is.¡± ¡°Of course you don¡¯t,¡± said Sam. ¡°I¡¯m always asleep, remember? Anyway, where is the congregation? I¡¯ve been hearing about itallweek, so I wanted to go for once. I thought I¡¯d find it in the sacrificial room, but it seems it isn¡¯t taking place there?¡± ¡°No,¡± the man said. ¡°It¡¯s taking place in the Eye.¡± ¡°Where is that?¡± Sam said, tilting his head. ¡°How could you not know where the Eye is?¡± he asked, annoyed. ¡°Are you really one of us? How could that slip from your head? It¡¯s the most important place in the headquarters.¡± ¡°Oh I know what that is,¡± Sam said. ¡°I was just wondering, you know? What if they like, moved it?¡± ¡°That¡¯s impossible.¡± ¡°How wouldyouknow? Are you one of the higher ups? Have you ever seen itnotmove?¡± ¡°This is ridiculous.¡± Sam opened his mouth to speak, but a voice beat him to it. ¡°It is indeed.¡± The voice reverberated out from behind Sam, deep and reminiscent of ripples in a calm lake. He stiffened, resisting the urge to whirl around in surprise. Slowly, Sam turned to face the figure who had spoken. It was a large man, standing over two meters tall, he loomed over Sam, his large shark¡¯s head gazing down at him as if he a transparent sheet. He was robed in a garb of black, held up by a golden sash. It reminded Sam of a karate-gi. The man¡¯s eyes were of the same color. The sclera were black, but within the infinite darkness of the Kivotl man¡¯s eyes were two saucers of gold. His irises pierced through Sam, and immediately, Sam associated a single word to the man before him. Danger. Absolute, terrible danger. He involuntarily stepped back. The shark-man looked down at him. ¡°An intruder, huh? What race are you? Xargith? Kaer?¡± Sam felt his pulse rise. The cultist on the bed behind him was trying to stand and salute. Sam angled his body, keeping both of them in sight. He stayed quiet, not answering the shark-man¡¯s question. Too injured to stand, the cultist gave up, instead resting on the bed and giving the Kivotl man a weak nod. ¡°Greetings, Lord Slayh,¡± he said. Sam felt goosebumps rise from his skin.Slayh.Vexxaron had briefed them, and the name was something the lizardman had paid special attention to. Slayh the Diviner¡ªa founding member of the cult, and one of its higher-ranked members. Silently, Sam opened the blue screen of the Egg Chat and sent Adam a warning. Slayh glanced at the cultist. ¡°Thank you, Dhur. It seems we have an intruder in our midst. Lay back down. Rest,¡± he said, before looking at Sam. ¡°Again, I ask. Young man, who are you?¡± ¡°Are we going to have to fight?¡± Sam asked. ¡°Depends,¡± Slayh said, shrugging. Despite the long, black oriental robe he wore, Sam could practically feel the power rippling beneath those robes. ¡°I prefer not to. Tell those friends of yours that you¡¯re contacting to come over here. There is no use fleeing from me¡­ human? Hm. Interesting. Are you a new arrival?¡± Sam¡¯s eyes constricted into little dots. He hadn¡¯t said a thing! How did this guy know? Intruder could be guessed, his calling for reinforcements could¡¯ve been determined by his body language. He could¡¯ve just made a mistake? But guessing his race? One that didn¡¯t evenexistin this plane of existence? People had always called and assumed him to be one of the Kaer¡ªjust one that didn¡¯t exactly come out right. His thoughts rapidly passed. Slayh the Diviner. Divination magic. Oracle? No. Precognition? No¡ª ¡°I see,¡± Slayh interrupted his thoughts, his large form blocking the door. From behind him, the forms of Adam and Lynn sprinted into the hallway. Slayh ignored them, continuing. ¡°So youarea new arrival, but you didn¡¯t come recently. It seems you aren¡¯t fromhereeither.¡± ¡°Sam!¡± Adam called out. He drew his sword, dagger lurking underneath his robes. Slayh turned halfway, regarding Adam and Lynn in the hall. ¡°Ah, your colleagues have arrived,¡± he said. ¡°Tell me, how did you three get to the Underearth? Are there entrances to the surface that we aren¡¯t aware of?¡± Adam shared a glance with Sam, blade at the ready. Sam shook his head at him.Don¡¯t.Adam grit his teeth and lowered the sword. ¡°Who are you?¡± Adam asked. ¡°Ah,¡± Slayh let out a sound. ¡°I nearly forgot to introduce myself. I am Slayh. It is good to meet you, Adam. Your friends? Lynn. Sam. I see. I hope we don¡¯t come to blows at such an important day. It would be such a shame to stain these hands before the coming of the Dark One.¡± Lynn looked evidently startled. The three of them looked at each other, thoughts spiraling into a mess of words and possible actions. All seemed like bad ideas. Before they could decide on anything, Slayh raised a webbed hand. ¡°Do not attack,¡± he said. ¡°Final warning.¡± Adam clenched his fist. ¡°So, what then? We¡¯re supposed to just let you take us prisoner?¡± The shark-headed man shook his head. ¡°Prisoner? No. From your reactions, you have no way to return to the surface, yes? But you wish it so, am I correct? We have a way.¡± ¡°We know that,¡± Sam slowly said. ¡°It¡¯s why we¡¯re here.¡± ¡°But you are not here with the intention to work with us, are you? You¡¯re clutching at straws. I know this.¡± ¡°How can you be so sure, huh?¡± Adam challenged. Slayh smiled, flashing his dozens of razor sharp teeth. ¡°I know things.¡± ¡°He¡¯s Slayh the Diviner,¡± Sam said. ¡°Everything checks out.¡± ¡°My reputation precedes me,¡± said Slayh. ¡°Though I am sure none of you know what exactly my magic is?¡± He gazed at all of them. ¡°I see. Good.¡± The cultist behind Sam spoke up, voice hoarse. ¡°They will be easy prey for you, lord.¡± ¡°Prey?¡± Slayh looked offended. ¡°The main objective of the Cult of the Dark One is to return to the surface with the Lord, but secondly, we prioritize turning people over to our cause. We are sympathizers of those trapped in this prison with us, brother. We are not mindless killers. These three already don our robes. Why not give them a chance?¡± ¡°We aren¡¯t joining your side,¡± Lynn spoke slowly, pronouncing every syllable with an uncanny sharpness. ¡°You¡¯re a group of lunatics kidnapping and murdering innocent people.¡± ¡°It is for the greater good,¡± Slayh said. ¡°A sacrifice for our races to leave this hell.¡± ¡°You were sent here for a reason. You angered the gods.¡± ¡°Ourancestorsangered those spiteful beings,elf,¡±Slayh spat. ¡°Why should we continue to be punished like so for a crime we didn¡¯t even commit? The words you speak are full of self-righteousness, but have you never considered why we do what we do? We are desperate to leave this hell. Even more so than you lot are. Don¡¯t forget that there is not only your truth, but mine as well.¡± She pursed her lips. She glanced at the two people with her. Could they take this man on? They had no information of what he was capable of, merely his name and appearance. Slayh the Diviner¡ªthe most mysterious member of the Cult of the Dark One¡¯s higher echelon. Sam opened his mouth to whisper into the party voice comms. ¡°Do you¡ª¡° ¡°¡ªguys think that we can take him on?¡± Slayh finished, swiveling his head towards Sam. His golden eyes glinted eerily in the dim light of the passages. He shook his head. ¡°I am afraid not. If we engage in combat here, now, you will all die.¡±Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there. ¡°So what, you¡¯re making us fuckingjoinyou? You can read minds, right?¡± Adam asked, his face dark. ¡°You should know the answer to that already.¡± ¡°I cannot read minds, but you are evidently¡­ reluctant to join us. Converting to our side would be the best result,¡± Slayh said, ¡°but even if you do not join, the least you could do is recognize the cause we fight for before we come for each other¡¯s throats. Even in the battlefield, respect for the other side is important. Surely, you are in no rush to die?¡± ¡°Can we¡­¡± Sam started. ¡°Tell the rest of your colleagues?¡± Slayh finished. ¡°Of course. Tell them to come to the Eye.¡± ¡°You¡¯re just gathering us up to kill us all in one place,¡± Adam said. Slayh smiled, and for a second, the ferociousness in his eyes reminded Adam of the obsidian-skinned Seith. The Kivotl man motioned around them, referring to the entirety of the cult. ¡°In this place, you are already as bunched up as you can get,¡± he said. Sam grit his teeth and pushed his hand down, motioning for Adam to stop. His friend reluctantly pursed his lips and lowered his head. Sam glanced up at Slayh. ¡°Where do we go?¡± The Diviner grinned wider. ¡°Follow me.¡± ¡ªo¡ª Alen stood outside of the wooden doors, glancing through the hallways left and right. He was nervous, he felt. He probablylookednervous, even with the hood that cast a shadow over his features. Hell, even though he was stronger than before, he wasn¡¯t even sure he could match up toSeith. The feeling of danger he¡¯d felt coming from the man was real, and yet, there was also a distinct sense of familiarity. He couldn¡¯t see it back then, but now that his strength had increased, Alen could feel something like a string that connected him to Seith. Maybe it wasn¡¯t even Seith, but somethingelse.He wasn¡¯t even sure anymore. It was vague¡ªa small bump in the back of his mind. Clenching his fist, he shook his head. He wouldn¡¯t fight Seith today. He felt too weak¡ªtoo unprepared. It wasn¡¯t enough to fight someone who could very well be at the later ends of the thirtieth threshold, or worse, at forty. Maybe he was assessing the man too highly. It was possible. However, with the rapid growth he experienced hunting monsters day and night in the Underearth, how could he say that Sieth couldn¡¯t do the same? He had a cult to lead, but he was ahead of Alen by wholeyears. ¡°How much longer, Roland?¡± Alen asked, listening in to the sound of things being shuffled around inside of his friend¡¯s quarters. Roland didn¡¯t say much in response. He didn¡¯t say anything at all, really. One of the new perks of his stay in the cult was making him evenmoresilent. Alen quietly cursed under his breath and extended his Mana Sense as far as he could. It snaked past a turn in the hall then paused like a mutt whose leash had just been pulled. His current limit was a bubble with a radius of fifteen meters, nowhere near what Sam could reach. He was satisfied, though. It was a massive help in sensing hidden foes, and even though his magic system wasn¡¯t compatible with the spell, the amount of recon it gave him when he stretched it to the limit was a benefit he preferred not to do without. Not that it didn¡¯t have its disadvantages as well, of course. He didn¡¯t have a means to hide is probing like Sam did, so anyone who was good at magic usually spotted him as soon as he did them. This wasn¡¯t even taking into the account the drain it had on his magic. Verifying that nothing was there, Alen pulled it back. As soon as his Mana Sense receded, the door behind him opened, and Roland stepped out fully geared. Alen gave him a look. ¡°I hope you know that when I said I¡¯d shove my dick up Seith¡¯s ass, I meant that I¡¯d give him a shit day,¡± said Alen. ¡°We¡¯re here to ruin his little ritual, not fight him and his gang. We¡¯d get slaughtered.¡± ¡°If I could take them on a fight, I¡¯d have escaped long ago,¡± said Roland. ¡°Fair enough. What¡¯s with the gear, though?¡± ¡°My storage bracer is full. I took the rest of what I could carry.¡± ¡°I see, well¡ª¡°
Egg Chat:
Sam:problem cant use partyvoice chat slayh the diviner here
Alen immediately felt his body tense. Slayh was someone ranked up high¡ªsomeone on Seith¡¯s level. His thoughts spun into action. Were they fighting? Where were they last? Headed to the supposed ritual room. Were they caught? Where were Vexxaron and the rest? ¡°Alen?¡± Roland asked, voice resounding under his wolf-like mask. ¡°We have a problem,¡± Alen blurted out, response hurried. He immediately sent messages into the chat, asking Sam what was happening. His friend didn¡¯t reply. ¡°Shit!¡± Alen cursed, moving the screen away. Before Roland could say anything, he pulled up the voice communications channel. ¡°Vexxaron! Dieter! Razzan!¡± he shouted into it, and immediately, a voice rang out. ¡°What is it?¡±Dieter asked, voice stiff and low.¡°Was there a confrontation? We have some of the other chosen gathered, but they¡¯re weak. We¡¯re headed to the portal now. Kara¡¯s with us, but... no, forget it. The rest have been taken away. We¡¯re about to escape. Meet us.¡± ¡°No, listen, it¡¯s not us, but¡ª¡° ¡°Slayh doesn¡¯t want to fight,¡±a voice said, and all parties immediately stopped. It was Sam, speaking.¡°He¡¯s taking us to the Eye. I¡¯m with Adam and Lynn.¡± ¡°What the hell is happening?¡± Alen asked through the comms, pacing forward. Roland silently followed, marching beside him and listening on to the talk. ¡°He knows you¡¯re here, Alen. I can¡¯t say anything else. He just wants you all to go to the Eye. He says we¡¯re already bunched up enough. I think they have a way to attack us all.¡± ¡°I think he¡¯s bluffing,¡±Vexxaron¡¯s voice said.¡°You¡¯ve been captured?¡± ¡°More or less,¡±said Sam. He paused.¡°I have to go. He¡¯s telling us to stop.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t go to the fucking Eye,¡±Adam said.¡°Run like hell.¡± Momentarily, the sound of someone calmly berating him snapped through the channel, a voice Alen couldn¡¯t recognize. Before it cut off, however, he caught the last thing said. They¡¯ll come. Slayh? Alen felt his magic boil inside of him. Captured. He split up from them, and his friends got captured. Slayh the Diviner? They were damn right to name him that way. They were definitely coming, and the bastard knew it. Alen looked to Roland. ¡°Change of plans,¡± he said. Roland was already walking as he asked, ¡°We¡¯re going?¡± ¡°Of course we¡¯re fucking going,¡± Alen said, walking beside him. Their steps slowly became faster, almost in sync. ¡°That dumbshit shark predicted it, so why should we disappoint him?¡± Roland wordlessly nodded, eyes like steel. They were running, now. The halls flashed past them, and Alen called upon the stats he¡¯d been increasing to go faster. Roland was naturally stronger, slowing down to run just a few steps ahead of him. Alen pulled up AutoBone and the bone shards of some of his summons. He began to edit them. Slayh was most likely used to fighting creatures from the Underearth, so he had to change them.Diviner.The name rang loud in his mind. Divination magic was troublesome. Precognition? If so, how far could he see into the future? Mind reading? He bit his tongue, clearing his thoughts. He had to calm. He couldn¡¯t panic against enemies of this caliber. Roland was sprinting just ahead of him. Slayh had seen through his friends¡¯ disguise so abruptly that they weren¡¯t able to warn him, so mind reading was a safe bet. It was dangerous. Alen was directly countered by types like him¡ªpeople that could read his commands before they reached his minions. He needed a solution or¡ª Or maybe Slayh couldn¡¯t read minds at all? ¡°Damn,¡± Alen hissed, would he have to rely on his summons¡¯ muscle memory instead of micromanaging every single one of them like he usually did? Swarm tactics, maybe? Or hit Slayh with attacks so fast and powerful that most divination magic would be useless? He didn¡¯t have much of that in his arsenal besides his death affinity. A voice interrupted his thoughts. ¡°I know you¡¯re coming,¡±Lynn said,¡°but will I be able to convince you if I tell you to leave?¡± ¡°Give it up,¡± Alen told her. ¡°You know me enough to guess exactly what I¡¯m thinking right now.¡± ¡°Is it ¡®I¡¯m going to look so cool when I barge in there to save everyone¡¯?¡± ¡°Something of the sort,¡± Alen smiled. ¡°You better be ready to clap for me.¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± Alen closed the voice comms and noted the change of scenery as the halls changed once again. They were glass again, the floors made of crystal that twinkled with different lights. The torch-stones had disappeared, and the rainbow colors flashing below his feet lit up the bottom of his face, casting a shadow over his bright emerald eyes. Alen glances out of the window. It was foggy through the tinted glass. Where the hell had he seen this before? Why was it so familiar to him? The passage got wider, larger. The glass on the walls were depicting scenes of carnage¡ªgods and beings shrouded in light bleeding and broken as a massive creature loomed over the lands of the Playground of the Gods. It was dark, and despite the still glass, the depiction of the massive creature continued to change and shift, never whole, never visible. It was as if it couldn¡¯t settle into a single form. One second, it was small, and the next, it was larger than the planet itself. It was everything and everyone one moment, and nothing at all the next. Alen felt his head ache just looking at it, but he couldn¡¯t take his eyes away. The corners of his vision were darkening¡ªcreeping closer. A faint sound was ringing in his ears, incessant and persistent. It almost seemed to have a quality to it. It was almost discernable, but at the same time, it was a puzzle he couldn¡¯t hope to solve. Finally, in an instant, all the sensations flooding him disappeared, and Alen found himself on the ground, pain stinging his cheek. He looked to Roland, who stood over him. By the way his hand was suspended, Alen realized that Roland had slapped him. The orange-haired warrior nodded. ¡°Your eyes are clearer now. Are you yourself again?¡± Alen staggered up, and by the time he was on his feet, the muddiness in his head had faded as if it was never there. He looked at Roland. ¡°It happens to everyone who comes here,¡± Roland said. ¡°I¡¯m sorry I forgot to tell you.¡± ¡°No,¡± Alen said, mind reaching to say something that never left his mouth. His thoughts were somewhere else. ¡°No,¡± Alen repeated, ¡°it¡¯s okay. Let¡¯s keep going.¡± Roland nodded and broke into a sprint. Alen followed after almost without thinking about it. He kept feeling a nagging sensation at the back of his head, like something was tugging at him. A voice rang out from his mind. It seems I have a visitor,Selerius said. There was an edge to his voice Alen wasn¡¯t familiar with. The lich hadn¡¯t spoken in a while, but Alen could feel the tension in his otherwise calm words.It isn¡¯t showing itself,said Selerius.Do you feel it, necromancer? Alen nodded silently. He knew. Of course he knew. It was there, after all. He couldfeelit. It wasn¡¯t something he could point out. It was vague, like mosaic. It wasn¡¯t real, it wasn¡¯t tangible, and yet, it was so firmly grounded in reality that its existence was fact. It didn¡¯t feel alive. It felt like an idea¡ªsomething posing as an autonomous living creature. It subconsciously pushed itself to the back of his mind, rendering Alen almost unaware of its existence despite the fact that he knew it was there. Everything about it was cloudy, but Alen knew one thing for sure. The Dark One was watching him. Alen¡¯s thoughts suddenly blanked. He shook his head. What was he thinking of again? He looked at Roland who was ahead of him. He was headed to the Eye with Roland. Yes. That was it. They were coming to the Eye because the others had been captured. They were almost there, by the looks of it. There was light ahead, and the walls had changed to the same material as the floor, softly casting light into their faces. Finally, the curving passage ended. Ahead of them, a large, cathedral-like room rose up high into the ceiling, which was enshrouded in darkness so thick that it couldn¡¯t be seen through. Pews and long benches extended out in a large half circle, surrounding a single stage in the middle of the cylindrical room where five figures stood, surrounded by a sea of people sitting attentively in the seats around them. As he entered, Alen¡¯s feet tapped against something that wasn¡¯t stone, and he felt himself tense. Slowly, he looked down. He saw his own reflection in the floor. It was made of transparent glass, and hundreds of meters below it, the castle hidden in the sea of fog of the Cloud District stood. Even farther down was¡­ ¡°The City of Pillars,¡± Alen said, his voice echoing throughout the room that was silent as death. In response, an amused voice rang out in turn. ¡°I must say,¡± Seith said, ¡°I never thought we¡¯d be invaded first.¡± Alen looked up at him, and Roland did too, face emotionless. Seith saw this and smiled, motioning around the room. All eyes moved to them. Kivotl, Minno, Xargith, even some Kaer were assembled, watching. Seith continued. ¡°I knew the two of you had a connection with each other. Slayh figured it out with his magic, but I never knew my own disciple would betray me at a day such as this.¡± ¡°I was planning on betraying you later today if that makes things better,¡± Roland said, voice low and controlled. ¡°I just happened to change my schedule.¡± ¡°It does indeed make things better,¡± Seith said. He looked towards Alen. ¡°I see you¡¯ve grown to be quite formidable, little mouse. The fluctuations of your power are even stronger now. Are you here to fight me?¡± Alen gave him a level gaze. ¡°Where are my friends?¡± ¡°Slayh went off to fetch them. They should be here shortly.¡± ¡°I am already here,¡± a calm, deep voice said, and Alen tensed. It had come from behind him. Why hadn¡¯t he noticed it? Slowly, Alen turned and locked eyes with a massive shark-headed Kivotl. Slayh. Alen clenched his fists. His palms were sweaty. His Mana Sense was extended as far is it could reach. There was no way he would miss someone like that. Slayh moved past him, and Sam followed after, cradling his arm. He was injured. He gave Alen and glance and shook his head, stopping beside him. Lynn gave him a bitter smile and stood next to him, giving Roland a nod. ¡°Long time no see big guy,¡± she said. ¡°Lynn,¡± Roland replied, eyes never leaving Seith. The man in question grinned at them. ¡°This right here is what our group does, everyone. We bring people together, and together, we will leave this place! To all who believe in salvation, raise your voices, for the Dark One iscoming!¡± he said, gesticulating out towards the crowd. They cheered, and he nodded, satisfied. He looked back at Alen and his group, who stood at the far back. Slayh had moved up behind them, blocking the only exit. Seith motioned to a few empty seats at the front. ¡°Perhaps you¡¯d like to listen to our talk? The time is nigh, the portal will open tonight, and it would be best if you were on friendly terms with the hosts, no?¡± ¡°The chosen have already been rescued,¡± Alen said. ¡°You can¡¯t open the portal. Just find another way to escape.¡± ¡°Our races will not spend even another year looking for a way,¡± said Seith. ¡°We are done. Finished. We are leaving today, little mouse. As for the chosen, We are already finished with them. No matter where they go, they will fulfill their roles.¡± Lynn looked up at him. ¡°And that is?¡± ¡°Sacrifice,¡± Seith said. ¡°It is only a bit of life force. One might even get lucky and survive.¡± Alen shook his head and ignored Seith. He looked to Adam. ¡°I think they¡¯re suspicious of us enough now.¡± ¡°What?¡± Alen looked to Roland. ¡°You still have that vibrating shockwave shield?¡± Roland nodded. Alen smiled, and behind him, Slayh tensed. Slowly, the shark-man began to pull on the massive, spiked baseball bat-like weapon strapped to his back. Alen ignored him and looked at Seith. ¡°You know, the Dark One spoke to me last night. He told me to tell you about it.¡± Seith frowned. ¡°You mock me, necromancer?¡± ¡°No, seriously. He said it was really important,¡± said Alen. The man on the stage crossed his arms, looking down at him. ¡°Fine, then. Say whatever you have to say. Just know that depending on what leaves your mouth after this moment will decide your fate in the next.¡± ¡°Great,¡± Alen nodded. ¡°Roland?¡± The same time Roland moved, Slayh pounced. He raised the club over his head and roared, ¡°Stop them!¡± Seith reacted. They were too late. Roland bent down, then lightly tapped his shield against the surface of the reinforced glass floor. A single hum echoed out as everything seemed to slow down. It was as if time was running through mud. Alen raised his head and looked straight at Seith, eyes shining. Alen felt the roar rise up his throat as he splayed his palms just as the effect of Roland¡¯s shield rattled through the glass. With the noiseless explosion of Deathflare Blast, his voice echoed out as he directed the spell towards Seith. ¡°The Dark One said you should¡¯ve gotten a better fucking architect!¡± Boom! The floor around them shattered. Gravity dragged them down. Alen dropped, and a gigantic black club missed the top of his head by mere inches. The wind roared in their ears as they dropped towards the Cloud District, the castle regal in its place above everything else. He felt the grin plastered on his face. Strangely, he was unafraid. Laughter echoed out all around him as he fell. A wave of white hair flashed into his vision. Lynn. Despite the perilous situation, a relieved laugh left her lips. ¡°I¡¯m taking credit for that!¡± she said, punching him roughly on the shoulder. Hearing it, Adam and Sam felt themselves smile. Alen flashed Lynn a grin as he took her hand and summoned a parachute from the back of his robe. They slowed, and tendrils of keratin shot out of his clothes, latching onto the rest of his group. Gently, they landed on a garden by the side of the large castle. ¡°Shut up. I was cool as shit,¡± he said, looking around at everyone else. The roof of the castle was dyed blue by the crystals above, and on the ceiling of the large cavern hung the headquarters of the Cult of the Dark One, looking down on the city with its single eye at the center. Even from where he was, he could feel Seith¡¯s smoldering gaze. Alen looked away. ¡°Let¡¯s get out of here, yeah?¡° ¡°He¡¯s coming for us,¡± Roland quietly said. ¡°What?¡± ¡°Seith. He¡¯s¡ª¡° A boom interrupted him. Their group quieted down. Slowly, their heads turned to look at the crater that had formed on the surface of the garden¡¯s grassy surface. Calmly, Seith stepped out. ¡°You know,¡± he said, ¡°the Dark One requires quite the large amount of resources to resurrect. In his slumbering form, he only takes a select few things. Souls are one of them. Yours will be the first I offer.¡± He raised his hand and pointed it at Alen, palm splayed in a very familiar way. ¡°You¡¯re much stronger than the normal civilian, after all. Your deaths will lessen the amount we have to sacrifice. Necromancer. What was it you called it again?¡± he asked, and Alen¡¯s pupils constricted as he felt a very familiar mana type gather in the man¡¯s hand. Seith smiled at him, eyes dark. ¡°No, never mind. I remember now, it was¡ª¡° How!?Alen whipped his head around to face everyone else. ¡°Ru¡ª!¡° ¡°¡ªDeathflare Blast.¡± A pillar of obsidian and silver flames exploded from his hands and devoured the entire garden, silent as death. Like a tidal wave, it was on them in a flash, ready to consume all that he cared about. Alen whipped around, and a low, guttural roar erupted from his throat as he raised his arms and cast a spell of his own. Everything went black. Book 3, Interlude: Coincidence Necromancer and Co., Book 3: The Underearth
Side Chapter: Coincidence
[Cuck] The last thing it could recall before it was abruptly thrown out of the Galeboat¡¯s bottom compartment was a loud crash, along with the deafening roar of a very angry fish. After that, things were a bit of a blur. Not figuratively, no. Literally. Like all small, inconsequential pieces of rubble, or in its case, resurrected poultry, it was swept away by something bigger. Not the hands of humans that had tried to eat it in its past life, but rather, a gale force wind that was accompanied by horrendous amounts of whirling dust. It couldn¡¯t do much about it, really. Not that it had the capability to decide whether to do something in the first place. It was about as smart as a rock. An especially dumb rock, at that. A rock that would only move when given orders. One that was made with layers and layers of magic that kept the strands of its soul within tightly wrapped up, connected with a single creator. It was hardly a rock actually, now that the comparison had come up. That would¡¯ve been ridiculous. Cuck was a skeletal chicken, after all. It wasn¡¯t a rock. There was a very big difference. It wouldn¡¯t know ofthateither, though. Its mental processing capabilities were solely devoted to thinking about nothing until it wasgivensomething to think about by its master. And so, in that thoughtless state, Cuck let the currents of air carry him wherever it pleased. Time passed like the slow, irritating ticking of an old clock, and whether it be through luck or misfortune, the Maelstrom in the center of the Sandsea had yet to eject Cuck out of its orbit. It had been swirling about in the storm of sand and dust for over a month, and yet, it had yet to show any signs of boredom. It would¡¯ve been quite the feat, had it been capable of feeling boredom in the first place. It wasn¡¯t. So, the achievement was merely downgraded to an occurrence, another day in the life of a chicken raised from the dead. Really, the experience would¡¯ve been enough to drive anyone insane, spinning incessantly like that. Not if hunger killed them off first, that is. Fortunately and unfortunately, Cuck was capable of neither of those. It was merely capable of spinning¡ªan act that didn¡¯t even require it to think or move of its own volition. It really was quite convenient. Another day passed, and its form was already showing heavy signs of wear, a result of the sand battering against its body from all directions twenty-four hours a day. It wastorture,having sand splash all over it like that. If it had breeches, it would already be screaming about all the sand inside of them. Not that Cuck could scream, of course. It could cluck, though. It just had to wait for orders. They didn¡¯t come. It kept spinning. If it had been another person in the same situation, they would have thought that the spinning would go forever. It didn¡¯t. Something changed. A stray current of wind abruptly picked Cuck up, and like an anarchist in a city of uptight suit-wearing rich people, it crashed against the tide, throwing everything into chaos. Suddenly, Cuck wasn¡¯t spinning anymore. It was going up. Cuck rose higher and higher, its weathered, sanded form ascending past the incessant loop it had been forced to live in for over a month. As if the pressure was building, it only rose faster, faster,fasteruntil¡ªit stopped. The rogue wind had disappeared. The rebels had fallen. The anarchist had conformed. Cuck began to fall. The descent was almost slow, in a way. Compared to the speeds it was going at for so long, it seemed almost comical how much slower falling was. Maybe it was due to how light it was. Cuck wouldn¡¯t know, however. It was just a chicken. A dead one. The world had resigned it to a fate it couldn¡¯t choose for itself. It mattered not however, as no wind picked it up. It fell through the eye of the storm, and the calmly sitting sands beneath greeted it from below as it fell. Perhaps that would¡¯ve been the end of the chicken. Perhaps it would have finally set the inconsequential parts of its soul free to dissipate back into its base form¡ªmana. However, just as it fell down, a low drone swept past the entirety of the Sandsea once. The sands themselves seemed to hum in response, and the entirety of the desert¡¯s monster population momentarily stirred. All eyes locked into one direction, a single thought in mind. Ortena.The Crawling Canyon¡ªThe Matriarch of Insects had just let loose a low roar. Nearly soundless, but seemingly of substance, it had roved through the entirety of the desert as if to tell it of something.The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there. Regardless of this, Cuck continued to fall. It would die today. At least, that was its fate, until through another occurrence of luck and misfortune, an invisible thread of magic in its body hummed. The ground opened up below. Like a single mouth, a small hole opened up in the center of the Sandsea. Through the hole was a world full of bright fiery lights, and the beautiful glow of a million blue stones engraved upon the walls of a dark, cavernous earth. The undead chicken only glimpsed it for a moment before it fell through the hole¡ªswallowed by the unknown. Everything went dark. In another place at the same time, an old elf violently cursed at an altar, and the single, lifeless orb that rested against it. Beside him, a man of crimson scales and claw stood, marveling at the form of a beautiful red blade. It couldn¡¯t matter less to Cuck, really. It was just an unfortunate little chicken. The two events were probably entirely unrelated. Something akin to a terrorist attack occurring at the same day as a family¡¯s reunion dinner. Coincidence. Nothing more, nothing less. But sometimes, coincidences had a way of changing things in unbelievable ways. Coincidence brought certain new arrivals to worlds that weren¡¯t their own. Coincidence brought people together¡ªspecific people that were hard to meet in a world so massive. Coincidence had created Cuck. Coincidence put them in the face of an undead horde. Coincidence had caused a tiny little chicken to save them. Coincidence had earned them the ire of a reputable wanted criminal, and it had earned them a trip to one of the most dangerous places in the entirety of the Sandsea. And Cuck was there for it all. And now, coincidence had given it another treat. It had bought it just enough time for something to disrupt the balance of the spatial connections between worlds of the Playground of the Gods. It had given it a connection to the cause, and it had landed it in a place where everything wasjustright. Where everything was correct. Where the gaps between worlds were thinnest. Perhaps it wasn¡¯t coincidence after all, but fate. Cuck had fallen through a hole, and the next thing it knew, it was in another goddamn dimension. If it wasn¡¯t fate, then it was just horrible, horrible luck. But then again, the two might not be so different either. Like a limp doll, Cuck descended. It fell, and just before it shattered onto the glass floor of a room overlooking a cloud of vague lights and misty vapor, a hand caught it, and the magic rippled, dampening the force of its fall. It was turned over, and the hand grasped it firmly on its back. Cuck blankly gazed up at the figure that had caught it. A man with crimson eyes and obsidian skin looked down on it, grinning. ¡°You were right, Slayh. Something interestingwasgoing to happen in the Eye,¡± the man said, looking up at the roof, where Cuck fallen down from. ¡°My magic never lies,¡± a large figure said. He was hunched, enshrouded in shadows. Even through it all, his head was still as eye-catching. Golden eyes glinted in the dark, and the rows of sharp teeth in his mouth glistened with saliva. ¡°I know it doesn¡¯t,¡± the obsidian-skinned man said. ¡°I was expecting to walk into Grizelda trying one of her new toys on another poor Chosen, but I wasn¡¯t expectingthisquaint little thing to fall through from a spatial tear.¡± ¡°The time is close, Sieth.¡± ¡°It is,¡± the man laughed. ¡°The gap has finally closed again, and it will only come closer from now. We must hurry.¡± ¡°Should I order an attack?¡± ¡°No. That is a last measure. Our allies won¡¯t be able to cover up or brush it off if we act so rashly. Double the efforts in acquiring the god-touched. I will handle the rest.¡± ¡°Understood,¡± the shadowy figure nodded. ¡°The Dark One awaits.¡± ¡°Yes,¡± Sieth replied, staring down at Cuck. ¡°Thank you for warning us of this early, little abomination. Because of you, we will have adequate preparations. The Dark One is coming, and months from now, when the gap has thinned to a paper-like state, we will poke a hole through with his power.¡± ¡°Freedom,¡± the large figure¡¯s golden eyes glinted. ¡°Freedom,¡± Sieth repeated, tasting the word as if it was a delicacy. He looked down at Cuck, and with a final smirk, black and white flames devoured the small skeletal chicken, reducing it to dust. Sieth let it fall, and before the dust even hit the ground, it was gone, erased from existence. He began to walk. ¡°Call in the others, Slayh. There is much to be discussed.¡± Sieth took another step, then suddenly paused, body locked in place. Slowly, a savage grin rose up to twist his handsome face. His shadowed companion paused. ¡°I hear him,¡± Slayh said. ¡°As do I,¡± said Seith. ¡°My connection to the lord is not as close as yours,¡± the shadowed figure said. ¡°It is frustrating, being able to only hear his whispers¡ªunable to tell his words from wind. What did he say?¡± Seith opened his mouth to reply, when suddenly, a small, quiet voice echoed through the entire cult. His skin prickled at the sound, each sinister syllable innocent in its own way. The voice was a hum, a gentle chorus, and a cacophony of noise all at the same time. When the sound stopped, however, all his followers knew what had just been said. The Dark One had spoken, and he had spoken only a single word, sweet and enticing: Freedom. Book 3, Chapter 15: Not Death Necromancer and Co., Book 3: The Underearth
Chapter 15: Not Death
[Alen] The sound of nothingness enveloped his senses, and for a moment, Alen felt nothing, saw nothing, and thought of nothing. His vision was dark, flashes of black and white roaring noiselessly. Both fast and slow, the world had turned into a bicolored mosaic of darkness and light. He was certain the rest of his party were behind him, but he couldn¡¯t feel their presence. Physical, magical, ethereal, nothing could exist in the deathly realm of the mana he and Seith shared. ¡°I¡¯ve realized something about the mana you¡¯ve been using all this time,¡±a voice echoed out in his mind, calm. The flames crept closer to Alen, almost in slow motion as the voice spoke in a slow, observant tone.¡°This magic¡­¡± ¡°It isn¡¯t death,¡±said Selerius. BOOM! Everything exploded into being. The world surged back into place, and finally, everythingwas.Reality had returned, and only then did Alen realize that his right arm had disappeared. In its place, two roaring pillars of Deathfire clashed, smashing and roiling against one another. One side was faltering¡ªlosing. It was his. Ignoring the blood madly gushing from the cleanly erased stump on his shoulder, Alen¡¯s robe bubbled up and exploded, creating a massive, flat board on his back. Simultaneously, pikes ejected from the bottom of his boots, causing him to fly back and slam the large plate on his back into his party members. His Deathfire lost the struggle, and immediately, Seith¡¯s magic crashed through the remnants of his, reached and clawing towards their silhouettes. It didn¡¯t reach them. It sailed over their heads. Alen had pushed them off of the castle in the sky with him. He let loose a low, guttural roar, and twisted, sending pillars of keratin exploding from the board on his back, pushing his party members out in different directions¡ªspreading them out and leaving him alone at the center. This way, Seith wouldn¡¯t be able to eliminate all of them. They would escape, and he would be the bait. Multiple shouts rang out, but none reached his ears. A bright, golden light exploded out from the castle above, shattering windows and walls as a figure clashed with Seith¡¯s form. He continued to fall. The ground of the top district was rapidly approaching. The blood from his wound was gushing out, leaving a crimson trail in the sky. The artery near his shoulder had been severed. He was bleeding, But he wasn¡¯t dying. Alen willed his magic once more through gritted teeth, conjuring a parachute at the last second to slow his descent. It did little. He was too close to the ground, and the roof of a house was nearing his vision faster than he liked. He crashed through it, dust billowing in his wake. Blood decorated the floor and remnants of the dinner table he had shattered. Lots of expensive-looking dishes and cutlery had been broken. A man, likely a father, rushed his children out of the home, fleeing from him. Strangely, he wanted to apologize to them for trashing their home. From above, Alen could see the cloud district, obscured by a fog that failed to conceal the bright, flashing lights coming from above. It looked like a battle had begun not long after they¡¯d left. Good,Alen idly thought,it¡¯ll keep Seith busy. His head felt slow, muddled. Alen¡¯s face was pale, and only then did he remember that his right arm had disappeared. Sitting up, he laughed bitterly, tucking the necrotic mana stone into a pocket. Even after all that, he¡¯d still grabbed it. It was too rare to lose¡ªto precious. With his left hand, Alen conjured a simple flame and seared the wound on his right shoulder, cauterizing it. The pain barely made him flinch. It was nothing compared to transferring his vitality to another person. He noted the blood that drenched his robes and more than half of his person. No wonder they ran away,he thought, silently apologizing in his head. He¡¯d pay them back later. That was, if he could get out of this alive. The ground rumbled. Screaming began to ring out from the streets outside. Footsteps rang out just outside a door, and with his Mana Sense, Alen immediately knew it was an enemy. His magic buzzed in his chest. A scepter-wielding cultist ran into the house. Alen pierced his heart with a bone spear and let him fall. Alen watched himself stagger towards the man, his hand reaching out to grasp at the cultist¡¯s face. It was almost as if he was watching himself go into autopilot as his magic surged out to grasp the green motes of light in the man¡¯s body. Vitality Drain. The dying cultist opened his mouth to let loose a horrifyingly pained screech, but Alen cut it off with a spike of keratin from the bottom of his sleeve. The man gurgled from the blood pooling in his pierced throat. Moments later, Alen let the desiccated husk fall to the floor. His face had regained a margin of color now, but he knew it was nowhere enough to fight someone significant. The sounds of chaos outside were persistent, matching the thundering beat of his heart¡¯s pulse. He couldn¡¯t fight like this, not with his dominant arm missing and limiting him. Alen slowly opened his status and hesitated. His finger hovered over a single system program. Soul Editor. Alen grit his teeth. He pressed it, and slowly, a purple wisp of light accompanied by a few others emerged from his body, merging into the screen. Alen sucked in a breath at the sensation. It was risky, he knew. One fuck-up, and he could kill himself faster than any person from Seith¡¯s crew could. With gritted teeth, Alen pushed his magic into the strands of his very soul and got to work. Once again, the grin began to stretch the corner of his lips upwards. It gave him strength. Alen¡¯s eyes blazed like burning emeralds in the darkness. The bones in his stump of a shoulder began to bubble up, the grin masking the intense pain that rippled through his body. He glanced up at the sky. Seith had erased his fap-hand. His lifetime partner. The motherfucker was going to pay for it dearly. ¡ªo¡ª Roland grunted as he pulled himself up from the rubble, rocks and dust falling way from the gaps in his armor as he stood up. He ran the back of his hand over his forehead, wiping away the small bits crimson leaking from a wound on his forehead. He didn¡¯t bother to look at it. The flesh wound was already closing. The fall had been a fast one, but his body was strong enough to not be affected, especially when he wore his armor over his body. Surveying his surroundings, Roland crouched low. He should¡¯ve expected something like this to happen. Had it been a bad idea to go with Alen after all? They¡¯d been caught, and now, he was far from Seith, unable to take any action where it was needed. He crept out of the building he had crashed into. It seemed to be a workplace of sorts¡ªa bakery? Booms reverberated out from above, signaling the fierce fighting that was going down in the Cloud District. His face darkened.Hewas supposed to be up there, where Seith was. The man had helped him get stronger, but even now, Roland felt the Xargith man¡¯s magic pulsing within his body. Back then, it had been nothing to him, but now that he had attracted the attention of one of the gods, he was running out of time. Roland knew, after all, that the ritual was coming. When the dark of the Underearth reached its zenith at the fortieth hour, it would begin, and all the marked and sacrificed would be turned into food for the deity within the Underearth. Blood, life energy, spirit, soul, everything spilled would pool into one being and wake it from its slumber. Roland clenched his fist and steadied his breathing. It had turned labored as he thought about it, his chest feeling like something was about to burst out of it every time he recalled the Dark One. It was coming, and it was ready. He knew it was there, because it had spoken to him once. When he had first viewed the images of the tinted glass, it had tempted him, told him of power he could reach, the heights he could soar to under the guidance of Seith. It had filled his heart with desire, and he had unwittingly allowed it to influence him mind. It was vile, manipulative, and abhorrently suspicious, but despite his knowledge of that, Roland had agreed with its words until he regretted it. He looked down at his hands, gloveless and bare under his gauntlets. He clenched his fist once, and the runes and sigils that scarred his skin glowed a searing red. Was this why his family had refused to acknowledge magic? Had they known that it would lead men like him to this path? ¡°You¡¯re uh¡­ Roland, right?¡± Roland turned and came face to face with a youth around the same age as Alen. He recognized him. The brown-haired one that had joined them. They¡¯d been caught by Slayh. Roland nodded at him in response. ¡°Where are we right now?¡± asked Roland. ¡°Not too sure where, but I know we¡¯re in the middle district. I feel like I know this place though,¡± Adam replied, bending over and examining the shattered Stonewood tables. Roland nodded once again and moved his attention elsewhere. He pulled up the party screen, and for the first time in what felt like an eternity, he pressed down on the voice communications. He sucked in a breath and spoke into it. ¡°Can any of you hear me?¡± ¡°I can hear you,¡± Adam said. ¡°Here,¡±a voice said. Lynn¡¯s. Roland pressed down on it to reply. ¡°Where are the rest?¡± ¡°I¡¯m by myself right now. I saw Alen land somewhere in the top district, but I¡¯m too far to go after him. Things are getting hectic outside. Cultists are attacking the top district, and the panic¡¯s spreading to over there in the middle section.¡± ¡°We¡¯re here as well,¡± said Roland, looking to Adam. ¡°One of our party members are here with me. He has brown hair and he¡¯s¡ª¡° ¡°Adam,¡±Lynn supplied. ¡°Hi,¡± Adam cut in.Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere. Roland sighed. ¡°Adam is with me. Do you think you can make it over to us?¡± ¡°I¡¯ll try. Adam, do you know where you¡¯re at right now?¡± ¡°I figured it out, yeah,¡± said Adam, throwing the shattered table piece to the side. ¡°I saw that Roland crashed nearby, so I followed. We¡¯re at Talesin¡¯s bakery. Hurry up. I don¡¯t know where Sam is, and I¡¯m getting radio silence from Alen.¡± ¡°I saw Sam get sent pretty far. He might be out of range like Alen. I think he¡¯s in the top district as well. I¡¯m coming over there. Try to stay in the area.¡± Adam nodded and was about to reply when he felt a gauntleted hand tap his shoulder. He turned his head, then raised a brow at the orange-haired warrior. Roland shushed him, face scrunched up in concentration. ¡°Listen,¡± the warrior said. Adam frowned and strained his ears. They were currently in the bakery¡¯s kitchen, as evident by the bags of flour and resting pastries by the counter, but outside of the door, he could clearly see the road outside. The torchstones were missing¡ªextinguished. The lights of the city were off, and the soft blue light from the ceiling far above was the only thing that lit the empty streets. No people were present. He listened closer, and finally, he heard it. The sound of splashing water. Roland ran past him, and Adam followed.There¡¯s no fucking way,he thought. The water continued to get more evident. Torchstones only went out when directly exposed to water, he remembered. They were up into the tall lamps, so the only thing that could put them out here was¡ª He stepped outside and the water pelted his head from above. Adam looked up at the churning clouds sitting above the section of the city. It was raining. All around them, globes of water floated off the ground, some higher than others. They were motionless, like bubbles suspended in time. Adam paled as he looked upon them. Within each globe of water, he could see the forms of different people. Men, women, children, they floated within each orb, struggling for breath. ¡°Move!¡± Roland shouted, and they both burst into action. Adam jumped, and with Fluttering Steps, he ascended straight onto the rooftop of a nearby house. Another cast, and he surged up to fly towards another one of the orbs of water. He splayed his palm and smashed it into the globe. It burst, the water scattering outwards in a cone. The woman inside fell, coughing and sputtering for air. Adam caught her, then hurriedly put her down on the street. Immediately, he bolted again, Roland at the corner of his vision. Both of them dashed about, destroying bubbles and setting people free. However, the moment Adam jumped up to free a young man who seemed to be at his limit, the hairs on his flesh stood on end. Danger. He twisted, simultaneously drawing the sword and dagger on his waist. He slashed out vertically, and the beam of highly pressurized water that came at him was neatly sliced in two. A spray moved too close, and immediately, it cut into his cheek, slicing away the flesh just under his eye. Adam grit his teeth and let go of his dagger. He stepped on it, and Fluttering Steps activated to send him hurtling away into cover. Adam rolled across the wet, cobbled street. ¡°Roland!¡± He yelled in warning as he reached out with his hand towards his dagger in the air. Gritting his teeth, he channeled his spatial affinity. His shortsword hummed in his grip. Whump. His dagger appeared right beside his blade, and Adam caught it, dashing into the inside of a ruined house. The rain outside, a drizzle, continued to get stronger. A voice reverberated in his head, serious. ¡°Don¡¯t go outside,¡±Roland told him, voice quiet. Adam looked out at the flooding streets warily. Slowly, he pressed on the button to reply. ¡°What¡¯s happening?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know much, but it seems the cult¡¯s activated one of the many spell formation¡¯s they¡¯ve created,¡±said Roland.¡°It¡¯s all controlled by one person, and whoever that is, they have full awareness of us as soon as we touch the rain.¡± ¡°What about the people in the orbs?¡± ¡°The spell¡¯s been cast recently. With the physiques of the people here, especially that of the Kivotl, they should last for a good amount of time.¡± ¡°Assuming they¡¯re above the fifth threshold?¡± ¡°Five minutes at least. My clan used to do something like this to increase our mental endurance. Most children last for four minutes before falling unconscious.¡± Adam pursed his lips and looked outside. The woman he¡¯d saved was running, but tendrils of water chased after her, threatening to engulf her again. He grit his teeth. ¡°We need to stop the caster quick.¡± ¡°There¡¯s¡ª¡° A flash of light shone through the windows of Adam¡¯s hiding place. A rumble swept out as a column of steam rose from the ground, the crashing remnants of a home toppling below it. Adam pulled up his voice comms and called out to Roland, but no reply came. Gritting his teeth, he bolted out of the house, footsteps splashing against the falling rain. Adam clenched his fist as a large tendril of water formed in front of him. It smashed down, and he dodged to the side, cutting through an alleyway. A globe was floating in front of him, holding a group of people his age inside. He ran past it. After all, if he freed them now, they¡¯d only get caught again. The droplets of water around him sped up, turning into hundreds of tiny bullets. They homed in on him, and he swept his sword out, slicing them apart with razor-sharp blades of wind. A few managed to get through, inflicting a multitude of small cuts all over his body. Another volley formed above, and Adam dodged this time, sliding under a bridge that connected two buildings. The bullets of water smashed into it, crumbling stone and wood alike. He proceeded onwards, weaving and dancing between a multitude of coming attacks. Flashes of light and low rumbles rang out a distance away, to his right this time. The battle had moved. He followed after the battle. A hand of water formed, he sidestepped its grip. Sharp spears exploded out of the water on the ground, and he jumped over them. Bullets of rain whistled down and he scattered them with his blade. The attacks weren¡¯t as strong as before, he noted. Meanwhile, the fighting just ahead of his had turned more intense. Roland was fighting someone, a colleague of the caster, most likely. Whoever the caster was, it wanted to pick off Roland first. Adam felt his frustration mount. He screamed in frustration as he tore apart another volley of attacks. He was being slowed down. Hehatedbeing slowed down. He had to move at his own pace. He needed to. He channeled his magic, his eyes darting to a nearby rooftop.There! Whump! The rain pelted his face as he staggered to the side, a crate catching his foot. The water below him pulled, capitalizing on it and tripping him. A massive hand of water smashed down on him. It didn¡¯t reach. Adam had teleported again. He wiped the moisture from his face, unsure of where he was. Through his blurry vision, he saw another attack coming. It smashed into him, but before it could deal the full extent of its damage, he teleported away, reappearing inside a nearby house, coughing. He dived behind a fallen table, taking cover. He panted, teeth grit. In anger, he kicked the table away. He targeted a nearby plate, then tried to teleport it to him. It shattered against the floor a distance away. ¡°Why the hell aren¡¯t you working!?¡± He roared, and suddenly, the surroundings outside stilled. Adam moved. The windows shattered, water pouring into the house like a tidal wave. His eyes widened.Too fast!The wave of water collided with him, washing him away and destroying the wall behind him. He was swept outside, rolling across the street. He rolled to his feet, kneeling on the ground. His head flashed up to see another volley of attacks coming at him. His opponent had seen his powers, and now, it was devoting a new level of attention to him. Adam reached to his waist, but found that his weapons were gone.They¡¯d been washed away!He dived, avoiding the strike and plunging into a waiting mouth of water. It swallowed him, and suddenly, he lost his grip on the ground. He reached out, but there was nothing to grab. The orb of water had swallowed him. He channeled his magic, creating a bubble of air around his face. He gasped it in, and the orb plummeted to the ground is response, slamming him into the cobbled roads of the City of Pillars. Suddenly, all the rain in a large area around him halted midair, before slowly pivoting to face him. The glinted blue with the dense magic controlling them. Adam¡¯s eyes constricted. He couldn¡¯t fight this without his weapons. He looked around in a panic.Where the hell were they!? The water surged in, and he ran, the bullets of water decimating the ground behind him. Flashes of light continued to ramp up in intensity farther away from him. He couldn¡¯t help Roland right now, not with the spell¡¯s caster focusing on him like it was. He dodged another volley. A droplet of water came, and it pierced into his shoulder, stopping short of fracturing the bone within. Adam cursed and teleported again, appearing on the veranda of a nearby house. A small hum in his chest resounded, and his eyes flashed to the remains of the crumbled home he had hidden in.His weapons were there! A wave of water crashed into the veranda, hurtling him inside of the house. More flooded in, smashing and roiling and churning, trapping him within. Adam teleported, but when he reappeared, he was still within the water. He felt it crush around him, the pressure increasing by the second. He grunted. His bones were creaking inside of his body. He needed to get out. He needed to get his weapons. He needed to¡ª The water crushed down again, and this time, he let out a sound of pain. A pulse reached through the water, and it compressed further. He trembled inside, locked in its grip. He teleported, but he never left the sphere of influence. It was dark inside the house. It was filled to the brim with water, and Adam knew that there was nowhere to run. He stilled, staring outside. His weapons glinted in the rain, and for the first time, Adam thought: why? Why was he risking his life to help these people? He wasn¡¯t entitled to be a hero. He should¡¯ve just run. He should¡¯ve just told Roland to flee. Why the hell had he kept fighting even after he saw how strong the caster of this spell was? Why did he decide to join the infiltration, even? Finding the way back wasn¡¯t even guaranteed, and that wasn¡¯t even why he wanted to agree in the first place. No. Adam had just wanted to be a hero. Break into the cult, defeat the fanatics, and save the hostages. It was cool to him, despite how dangerous it was. Heroic. Maybe some good looking girl would even fall for him if they¡¯d succeeded. He laughed bitterly, choking on the water. It crushed down on his again. He didn¡¯t save anyone. Dieter and the others had done all the work. He would receive no credit. He would be the background character¡ªnot the protagonist. Adam hated that. He wanted to make an effect. He wanted to make a difference. He wanted to beremembered.That was why he was doing the things he did. The water crushed down on him again, but instead of a grunt of pain, his eyes cleared. His gaze sharpened. His magic built up inside of him. There was a humming in his chest, and just like a thread, it vibrated, connecting him to his weapons. He reached out to them, calling on his magic. He had to try again. He wasn¡¯t going to fucking die here. Not to this. His eyes blazed in a gray light within the darkness. After all, if he died just like this, there wouldn¡¯t be much to talk about. He really would become an extra¡ªa useless teammate that got killed by a mini boss. Weak. Inferior. Adam fucking hated that. And so, he channeled his magic with a single thought in mind.Move. Whump. Adam appeared outside, drenched in head to toe. He felt something in his grip. His sword. The water outside of the house behind him crashed out, roaring like an angry beast in its rampage towards him. He paid it no heed. He looked to the side until he found his dagger. Whump. He stood alone in the middle of the street this time, dagger now in hand. Water roiled all around him with a new intensity. It encircled him, rising up like a maelstrom, prepared to drown him in its terrible power. He flicked his wrist. His dagger flew upwards. He disappeared. He reappeared in the air, dagger in hand. Roland¡¯s voice rang out in his head. ¡°I found the caster! Cathedral in the center is where he¡¯s controlling everything! Kori is keeping me busy just outside of it. Go no¡ª¡° The message cut off. Adam looked around, taking everything in. More attacks came, and he avoided them with ease, teleporting about in the air, weapons flashing left and right. He turned, and finally, he found it. Adam threw his dagger in the direction of the cathedral. He teleported to it. It wasn¡¯t far enough, so he twisted, throwing his sword next. He disappeared, then reappeared, holding it once again. He crashed through the window of the cathedral¡¯s highest point. A woman looked up at him in a panic, big head, large eyes. One of the Kaer. She stood alone, a massive formation surrounding her as her blood steadily flowed underneath her, feeding the runes. He threw his dagger at her. She dodged barely. Adam dashed in, sword ready to swipe. He slashed. She retaliated. The blood all around her erupted. Water crashed through the window, all slashing and cutting towards him. They clashed. Blood splattered onto the cathedral floor. Book 3, Chapter 16: Renovation Necromancer and Co., Book 3: The Underearth
Chapter 16: Renovation
[Alen] People often don¡¯t realize how painful it is to regrow an arm made out of keratin, and with what he was doing at the moment, Alen was made very aware of that fact. Sweat dripped from the side of his face as he looked at the twisting curling mess of bone that slowly inched its way out of his shoulder. Cell by cell, nerve ending by nerve ending, Alen felt everything click onto life as the skeletal structure of his arm crawled out from the cauterized stump of charred meat that was his shoulder. Needless to say, the experience was agonizing. Trembling uncontrollably, Alen leaned against the far wall of the home, sliding down behind the remnants of the shattered table he had crashed into. Sounds of chaos and fighting rang out from outside, and Alen found himself ignoring it, paying more attention to the very attention-drawing sensations flooding his head. Itching, burning, freezing¡ªevery single sensation his bones could possibly experience surged into his mind with every mana-crafted nerve ending that connected itself to his brain through the base of his shoulder. Like bursts of light, every single sensation was akin to the crackling of fireworks; quick, bright, and very, very prominent. Alen felt his vision darken once. He blinked and grit his teeth.No,he thought. He couldn¡¯t pass out here. If he did, there was no telling what would become of his arm. Alen clenched his left fist tightly. The nails dug into his flesh, but the sensation of pain didn¡¯t come. That was when Alen realized that Numb Senses had already been activated. The pain had been so intense that portions of it had slipped through his spell. His senses were numbed, and a very dangerous kind of curiosity flashed through his head. If the pain was already this intense, what the hell would happen to him if he stopped channeling Numb Senses? Alen quickly pushed the thought out of his head. Alen swiveled his head and looked towards the skeletal arm that had grown from his shoulder. It lay there, unmoving and limp by his side. He wasn¡¯t done yet. Far from it. The worst of it had yet to come. Carefully, he raised his left arm and pulled up Soul Editor once again. The strands of his soul were within it, his entire existence¡¯s blueprint displayed within the screen. Alen sorted through the strands, familiar with each and every one. He skipped through the sensations, the memories, the reflexes, until he arrived at the blueprint for his muscle structure. In the darkness of the home he¡¯d crashed through, he visibly paled. He was right after all. The worst had yet to come. He stared at the screen, and through his connection to the system application, he instantly became very, very aware of just how densely packed the nerve endings in the human hand were. Alen swallowed down the lump in his throat and began. ¡°Fuck,¡± he whispered as threads of keratin detached from his robes and plastered themselves into his regenerating arm. They merged with the flesh on his shoulder, cutting away the burnt flesh and sealing it just as quickly. Alen watched the strands of keratin weave and curl, growing taut, copying the way the muscles in his arm had been structured. The muscles made of hundreds of thousands of strands of keratin crept forward, inching down, connecting themselves to the bone inch by inch. Muscle fibers, tendons, sensory nerves. Alen felt each and every one of them connect, snapping into place. Continuous jolts of sensation and involuntary jerking shot into his brain, and Alen suppressed all of them. It was like every time his mind sensed a new connection, it instinctively wanted to move it, as if to confirm if it was really there. He had to suppress that, and he had to monitor his soul editor at all times. If any of the magic leaked onto the rest of his soul, then¡­ He inwardly shuddered. Alen didnotwant to think about what would happen if muscle blueprints surged into somewhere like his memories or analytical capabilities. Or worse yet, any other place in his body that he didn¡¯t want an arm to grow out of. Especially when¡ª ¡°Fuck!¡± he cursed. The first layers of muscle had reached just past his wrist, and the pain immediately intensified. Alen shut his mouth, and despite the danger it posed to his current task, he pushed his Mana Sense out. The door on the other side of the hall to his right rattled. He sensed the presence of four people outside. Someone had heard him. ¡°Shit,¡± Alen growled. He stood up, staggering to his feet. He looked around, most of his mental capacity focused on managing Soul Editor. His eyes flashed past the furniture until finally, he found a set of stairs leading up. He turned a right and entered a room. A large bedroom. Alen pulled open the door to a closet and dropped a tooth inside. Then, he slid behind the dresser adjacent to the bed, away from the entrance¡¯s line of sight. Within the wardrobe, the tooth silently began to bubble. Steps began resounding throughout the empty house, the chaos outside oddly quiet in comparison to the footsteps that moved closer and closer. Slowly, Alen heard the door creak open. ¡°Stay in formation,¡± a voice said. It was female. Hoarse and rough, voice like a smoker¡¯s. Then, almost in sync, a set of feet tapped against the home¡¯s Stonewood floor, heading inwards. Alen tensed behind the dresser, his Mana Sense draped around the intruders. The four were aware of it, of course. They knew they were being watched. And so, they advanced carefully, shields erected. From the sensations Alen was getting from them, the four cultists should¡¯ve been in their late tens to early twenties threshold wise. He could take them if he was in his usual condition, but¡­ Alen cringed at the pain as the first layer of muscles snapped into place by his fingertips, transferring sensory inputs into his brain. His arm was akin to a thin mess at this point, connected in various places by thin, keratin cords. More would come, bigger cords to cover up and reinforce the bundled small ones. Like a rope, his muscles would form, cords within cords, twisting and knotting together until it became whole, all the while he managed the whole goddamn thing. If he was still in a condition to fight after that, then¡ª ¡°Whoever you are, we know that you¡¯re here. You were given the chance to become one of us, but you forsook our cause. Come out now, and become the seed to our salvation,¡± the woman said, once again. Idiots,Alen thought. Why the hell would he show himself? Using the thread of magic that connected him to the tooth inside of the wardrobe, he had it grow a small, blunted bone spear. It knocked against the closet door once. The cultists immediately whirled, and within moments, a crash had resounded throughout the room. Alen had only sensed a flash of magic before his Mana Sense detected the new hole that had been carved through the bedroom wall, shaving away the better half of the wardrobe¡¯s upper body. This,he thought,this is why I¡¯ll never hide in a fucking wardrobe. Alen reached into his robes with his left hand, locking a tooth between his thumb and index finger. He had already retracted his Mana Sense, so neither he nor the cultists were aware of each another¡¯s movements. Footstepsdidring out however, and Alen risked a peek from behind cover to see what the cultists were doing. Their backs were to him, staring warily at the now obliterated wardrobe that stood sadly on the wooden floors. He let out a sigh of relief in his mind. Seeing that nothing was going to happen if they kept staring it down, the cultists moved forward, reinforcing the front of their square shield-formation. Slowly, the lead cultist looked down at the wardrobe and found a single, unsuspecting tooth. It was long, sharp. Almost dagger-like in quality. ¡°Kavarith tooth,¡± one of the fanatics noted. The lady in the lead frowned. ¡°Lord Seith informed us that the necromancer that interrupted our gathering a while ago was a manipulator of teeth and bone matter.¡± ¡°Ack, I remember,¡± one of the male cultists spoke, disgusted. ¡°Some of our members from back then were found without teeth as well. Do you think this is him?¡± ¡°He should have been disposed of by Lord Seith shortly after he escaped,¡± the lady replied. ¡°Check the surrounding area. He might have escaped heavily injured. Hoju, collect the tooth. Last I heard, Lady Voluura was in the area. With this, she should be able to find him.¡± ¡°Understood,¡± said the cultist, reaching past the shield to pick up the tooth. It passed the surface of the shield, bubbled, and as soon as it did, the fanatic stiffened. The world twisted and turned over. His face fell flat against something cold and grainy¡ªthe home¡¯s dust-covered floor. His eyes looked up, and in the final second of his life, he saw the two-mouthed skeletal Kavarith tear the rest of his lower body to shreds. ¡°A trap!¡± the woman in the lead screamed, springing back. The Kavarith followed, and with a crackle, its claws raked across the surface of her magical shield. She stumbled back, and through the gap in their formation, another tooth skittered onto the floor in the middle of their group. One of her colleagues pointed a hand at it, but he was too late. The tooth rapidly grew, then abruptly exploded. It was only an instant after that the Deathfire covered shrapnel of enhanced enamel blew his torso apart like a shotgun¡¯s blast. The Kavarith followed up right after, pouncing and smashing one of the cultists against the far wall with its massive body. The lady in the lead turned her back and was about to jump out from the hole in the wall when she felt something pierce her chest from behind. She looked down. It was a simple black spike, burning with hungry, fuming flames the color of obsidian and ivory. It retracted, and she fell, her dying vessel of a body softly making a thumping sound as it fell into the bluegrass on the house¡¯s front lawn. Alen stepped out from behind cover, panting as his face contorted from the persistent agony screaming into his arm. He looked at the mess and resisted the urge to slap his forehead. He was a dumbass. Vexed, he pulled teeth out from pouches in his robes, throwing them to the ground in handfuls. The first to form were humanoid skeletons, nearly two dozen filling up the now cramp bedroom. Alen pointed at the corpses as the rest of his undead formed around him. ¡°Take their teeth and give them to me,¡± he said, ignoring the wet, crunching sounds that followed as he walked past the corpses and stared out at the upper district stretching out to the horizon. A large gathering of cultists, nearly twenty, stood outside, rapidly gathering together to face him. He threw more teeth to the ground floor. Undead began forming rapidly. Tens, twenties, there seemed to be no end to them. Alen watched the morale of his foes rapidly deflate in the foreground of the still-glistening City of Pillars. Ignoring them, he continued on. More shards of teeth and bone spilled from his pockets, and his legion only grew. Kavariths, Gorebats, Cave Trolls, Amethyst Scorpions, Rock Dogs, Boulder Crabs, every single tooth and shard that he had collected since his stay in the Underearth was making an appearance today, and they were going to make these cultists fucking regret coming after him when he was as pissed off as he was. At that point, over a hundred undead had already gathered, but he was still far,farfrom done. Seeing that, Alen felt exceedingly stupid. Why the hell washeworrying about fighting? He didn¡¯t evenhaveto. He was a necromancer, and like all competent goddamn necromancers, he had a whole legion of undead to fight for him. All they needed was a command. Alen looked over the corpses of civilians littering the streets and pointed towards the cultists standing in front of them. Teeth. ¡°Collect,¡± he said, his horde moving even before he finished. ¡ªo¡ª The fight that came after the whole thing was anticlimactic, to say the least. The cultists had set up a defensive formation with their spells, and before his undead could get close, they were able to take out a few, but in the grand scheme of things, it did little to deter him. Twenty something cultists couldn¡¯t really do much when assaulted on all sides by nearly four hundred undead. Over half of which were Gorebats, but the impact they made was undeniable. He walked past the horde of minions that collected teeth from the corpses and came to a ledge in the upper district, where small plumes of smoke were just barely visible as they began to rise up from the chaotic mess that was the middle district. Flashing lights and crumbling buildings were visible below, but from what he was seeing, it was mostly civilians and Hunters from the Lodge doing the fighting. What the hell were the city¡¯s military doing? Alen watched the forms of his humanoid summons pick apart teeth from the fanatics¡¯ mouths. He frowned at the sight, but pushed down the disgust he felt. It wasn¡¯t the right time to be acting reluctant about what he was doing. If he was going to take on Seith, he¡¯d need a lot more summons to help him. Luckily, he knew just where to get them. ¡°God, I hope Youno¡¯s alive,¡± he muttered, staring down at the middle district. The Hunter¡¯s Lodge was most definitely still intact. Judging from where the plumes of smoke were rising, the cultists were targeting residential areas and marketplaces, areas where they could easily reap lives and harvest life energy. Suddenly, a grunt left his mouth. Alen glared down at his right arm as the last of the muscles went where they were supposed to. He stopped the process there. Growing a skin-like layer would be extra work, and right now, that wasn¡¯t what he needed. He clenched his right fist, feeling the sensations run through his head. The new arm would serve its purpose for now. No blood flowed through his new limb so it wasn¡¯t messy, but from the outside, it still looked quite ugly. Alen¡¯s face fell at the sight of it. He sure hoped there was a healing spell out there that could regrow his arm back.If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. Hell, they needed a goddamn healer in the party if they were going to keep getting injured like this. Alen strode past the minions gathered and threw a tooth to the ground. Another one of his summons began to form. The Matriarch Gorebat spread her massive wings wide, and Alen nodded, before taking another tooth from his robes. A mere shard, but already as large as his palm. Alen poured his magic into it, feeling the sea of mana in his body deflate as it filled the enamel in his grip. He didn¡¯t think he¡¯d have to use it again, so soon, but¡­ The tooth clattered down. It expanded, twisted, churned¡ªtook form. He backed up as the rest of his undead near the tooth were forcibly pushed away. The massive head of the skeletal Stone Drake looked down at him, before lowering itself in front, offering itself to him. Alen hopped on, and it rose, standing up to its full height. Alen looked out over to the sea of rooftops and nodded, sending an order to his undead. His horde began to move. Gorebats took flight, Matriarch at the lead. Huruks¡ªthe cave trolls¡ªmounted Kavarith and surrounded themselves in packs of Rock Dogs as the Boulder Crabs took the front, massive right claws held up like shields in front of them. The Amethyst Scorpions dug into the earth, burrowing deep into the ground of the upper district and following the mass from below. All in the center, Alen stood atop the terrifying Stone Drake, nodding as his undead fell into formation as planned. ¡°I should really give you a name,¡± he idly mentioned, glancing down at the Stone Drake. It didn¡¯t respond. He shook his head and pulled up the party comms. ¡°Hello?¡± he asked, motioning his undead to spread out, ¡°Is anyone nearby?¡± ¡°Yo,¡±a voice called out, sounding breathless,¡°it¡¯s Sam. I can see your undead from where I am. I¡¯m coming over, but I¡¯ll take a while¡ª¡°His voice stopped as a crashing sound resounded, along with the shattering of ice. He frowned. ¡°Sam?¡± ¡°¡ªFuck, man. These guys are everywhere. They¡¯re trying to kill people, but I have a couple Hunters from the Lodge here with me. Let¡¯s meet up at the top district¡¯s branch.¡± ¡°Got it,¡± Alen nodded grimly. ¡°I¡¯m sending my undead out to rescue people around me. I¡¯m gathering everyone I help at the Lodge. See you there.¡± ¡°Yeah¡ª¡°another explosion resounded, and this time, Alen looked to the side in shock as a massive glacier of ice smashed through a house in the distance. Sam¡¯s voice came back into the comms.¡°Bye dude,¡±he said, before cutting off completely. Alen swiped the blue screen away, looking out. Fires roared over homes and the bluegrass beneath reflected the light, forms morphing into a bright, flame-like hue. He marshaled his undead forward, spreading the ranks thin into small groups. Every bit of sight and sensation that could be considered noteworthy was transferred from his undead to him, granting him an almost omniscient view of the area within a kilometer radius. A radius that only continued to expand further and further. One of the benefits of raising Control, Wisdom, and Intelligence to such absurd heights was that he could handle this influx of information, and not only manage and absorb it, but also be able to finely control and manipulate his army as he did. Through the strings of mana attached to his summons, he sent his magic through, his massive mana pool regenerating even as he pulled resources from it. Six hundred meters away, Kavarith riders ambushed a group of cultists, saving a family of five who were locked in their homes. As the skeletal riders coaxed the family into joining them on their way to the Lodge, Alen sent Amethyst Scorpions out from under the earth to grab onto the bodies of the cultists, who were deposited in an alleyway for collecting. He directed a swarm of Gorebats over to the area, channeling his magic through them with fine control. Seconds later, skeletons grew from the collected teeth, snapping off bone swords that grew from their limbs. Rock Dogs came to pick them up, and they mounted, adding more to the growing force of undeath. Alen directed any excess over to his front line Boulder Crabs, where skeletal archers stood up on the craggy shells, looking over the slowly growing number of infantry beneath. Alen jumped down from the Stone Drake and mounted a Kavarith. He exerted his control over it, and the summon leapt, jumping onto the backs of one of the massive boulder crabs. There, over three dozen people stood, rescued by his efforts. They looked out over at his army with a mix of shock and awe, and as he approached, he went unnoticed. Alen walked up to a Kivotl man and put a hand on his shoulder. ¡°Hey,¡± he said. The man stiffened and almost jumped in reaction. Slowly, he glanced back, and upon seeing Alen¡¯s face, he visibly relaxed. ¡°H-Hello,¡± the man managed to say. ¡°Who might you be..?¡± ¡°Alen,¡± he answered. ¡°We¡¯re headed to the Hunter¡¯s Lodge to set up a defense there with my summons. Do you have any idea where the city¡¯s military is?¡± ¡°¡­No,¡± the man deflated, the visibly turned upset at the mention of the military. ¡°The top district was supposed to be the most secure! My family has been working for generations to build up a reputation that deserves to be up here, and¡ª¡° ¡°Okay,¡± Alen interrupted him. ¡°You can complain to them later or something. For now, it looks like the Lodge is the only group really trying to fight this off. Tell the rest of the people here that if they have other people they know of who might be in the area to report to my summon. I¡¯m sending a Gorebat here, so you can all communicate any of this information directly to me. I¡¯ll send undead to rescue them as soon as possible.¡± By the time he¡¯d finished speaking, the entire group of people were already looking at him. Alen nodded and raised his hand, and a Gorebat swooped down from the sky to circle around him. He sent it towards them with another reassuring nod. ¡°I¡¯m here to save as many people as I can,¡± he said. ¡°The Lodge is also moving. You¡¯ll be safe with us.¡± With that, he leapt off the broad, craggy exterior of the Boulder Crab with a pike from the bottom of his boots. Alen felt the air on his face as he approached the back of his Stone Drake. It lowered its head as he approached, and without any problem, he landed on its head. ¡°West,¡± Alen said, and the force of undead turned, heading towards a tall hill in the distance. Atop it, the true headquarters of the Hunter¡¯s Lodge stood, taller and more imposing than everything else. Fires burned in the surrounding area, spell formations creating rain and storms of dust blanketing the adjacent parts, but never extending into the range of the building itself. Alen¡¯s undead began to gain speed as his Gorebats scouted ahead. He closed his eyes and fully focused his senses on theirs. Parts of his undead, Kavairth Riders and Amethyst Scorpions, separated from the herd, gathering and rescuing anyone within his control¡¯s massive range. Many killed and raised cultists had joined the infantry at the front, holding blades and bows as the marched in formation with his Boulder Crabs. Alen¡¯s Gorebats were a sonar¡ªcollecting information and funneling all of it to him. Battles, struggles, skirmishes. He was aware of almost everything within an expanding area of three kilometers. A large battle was being waged in front of the Hunter¡¯s Lodge¡ªbut it wasn¡¯t for the purpose of defeating the Hunters within. It was a diversionary tactic. Through his summons, Alen saw the cultists darting through alleyways and within buildings, harassing the Hunters and limiting their movement as the rest of the congregation reaped the lives of the surrounding population. ¡°Surge,¡± he said, and his undead followed his will. They broke into a frenzied sprint¡ªan impassable wall with the might of an unstoppable force. The riders were the first to meet the clash outside of the Lodge. They climbed the roofs, combed the alleyways, and sprinted through the streets, flanking and catching the cultists by surprise. Some tried to flee, and Alen responded to this by surrounding the cultists, assisting the hunters as he herded them together. His eyes surged with an emerald light in the darkness of the City of Pillars, the colors of his undead contrasting with the bright flame-like lights of the torchstones scattered all throughout the city. ¡°Gorebats,¡± he whispered. The bats followed his command. Headed by the Matriarch, small, fingernail-sized pieces of bone grew from their chests, filling up with deathly mana as Alen channeled his magic through the strings of mana that connected him to his minions. The shards of bone and enamel popped free, and the Gorebats caught them with their feet, the mass of nearly two hundred and fifty congregating above the fleeing fanatics. ¡°Bombard,¡± Alen commanded, and the bones dropped, clattering to the ground like a hailstorm, pelting over a group of twenty seven foes like rain. He raised his hand in the direction of the bone pieces, feeling every single string that connected them to him. Alen smashed his fist to a close. Skeletal Detonation. A thundering roar echoed out from the area as shrapnel tore at the buildings and bridges, scissoring through flesh and bone as thousands of bullets burst out of the individual bone pieces. They were much weaker without the support of Necrotic Blessing, but the quantity more than made up for the lack of his buffs. Gorebats flooded in from the sky and covered the prone bodies, tearing into and killing any survivors as they severed the soul strands Alen required from each of the cultists. When they disappeared, only bone-stripped bodies were left. They gathered towards him, and twenty seven teeth clattered to the ground before joining his ranks as newly risen undead¡ªholding bone weapons the previously living bodies were familiar with. Alen gazed at them once before looking away. He didn¡¯t care anymore. He was going to stop whatever the fuck this mess was, and he was going home, army of undead or not. That was it. Two screens popped into his vision.
System Message!
Congratulations! You have passed your twenty-ninth mana threshold. You are now at your thirtieth. This threshold will require an exponentially higher amount of mana to pass.
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W??????????????????atch????????????????????i?????????????????????????n???????????g.??????
Alen frowned. ¡°Uh¡­ Selerius?¡± ¡°I do not know,¡±came the simple reply. ¡°Well, fuck.¡± Alen swiped away the screens. He looked out at the army of undead in front of him, and the wildly flashing lights of the Cloud District above. ¡°Any chance that this is the world telling me that it¡¯s going to screw me over in the near future?¡± A pause,¡°It is very likely.¡± ¡°Excellent,¡± Alen laughed despite himself. He had enough shit to worry about, and whatever was fucking with the system, he couldn¡¯t do anything about it. He pointed forward, and his army began to stop just in front of the Lodge. Alen sent his drake to the front and jumped off to stand in front of the wary hunters. ¡°Uh, I¡¯m not in the top district all the time, but¡­¡± he reached into his pocket, took out his nav device, and threw it out far ahead. One of the hunters caught it. Alen smiled at him. ¡°I come in peace,¡± he said. The Arineian man approached and held out a barbed hand. ¡°I¡¯ve never heard of Necromancer and Co. before. How come I¡¯ve ever heard of you? Your methods are very¡­ conspicuous.¡± ¡°We¡¯re new to the whole party thing,¡± Alen said, taking the hand. ¡°That, and I¡¯ve never really had a reason to be conspicuous before.¡± The man nodded. ¡°I am Zidash. Welcome to the top district¡¯s branch.¡± ¡°Alen,¡± he said. ¡°Uh, I have some people I rescued on the back of those crabs back there. My undead are taking more from the city as we speak. You have space in here for them?¡± ¡°Absolutely. Each of our branches as a portal to safehouses. Send them in and the ones inside will handle the rest.¡± ¡°Right. Thanks,¡± Alen nodded. ¡°You mind if me and my undead set up?¡± Zidash raised a brow. ¡°Set up?¡± ¡°Just a little renovating. On the outside of the branch, of course. Oh, and if you can, can you ask someone inside to retrieve the pouches inside of my private storage?¡± ¡°If it can assist in keeping this place safe, do as you will,¡± Zidash said. He looked to the line of hunters, to the people at the back mounted on what looked like cannons. ¡°Emery! You heard him. Go!¡± ¡°Excellent,¡± Alen grinned, then turned his back to face his horde. ¡°I¡¯ve been waiting fucking forever to do this,¡± he murmured. ¡°The cultists are gathering,¡± Zidash said as he handed Alen three pouches filled to the brim with clattering material. ¡°If the far-seers are correct, they will be here to mount an offensive soon. How quickly can you do this?¡± ¡°Watch,¡± Alen grinned. He tossed one of the pouches up. The keratin make burst, scattering dozens out teeth out into the air. Gorebats swarmed in and caught each one. ¡°Walls!¡± Alen commanded. The summons followed. Bubbling teeth and bone matter, mana pre-stored within, dropped all around the Hunter¡¯s Lodge. Low rumbles began to echo out throughout the area. White pillars began to rise. Higher, higher. Three meters, five, eight. The walls rose up, surrounding the area and linking together. Two meters thick, they stood. Ladders led up as the skeletons wielding ranged weapons ascended, mounting positions on the wall. Boulder Crabs stood outside, a horde of infantry around them as the Amethyst Scorpions dug out beneath empty houses, collapsing them and creating pits in the ground. Gorebats swooped in from the sky and dropped hundreds of pre-charged bones onto the soil, ready to burst and explode into shrapnel at any second. A gust of wind blew Alen¡¯s hair into disarray as with a flap of its wings, the Matriarch Gorebat landed in front of him. He mounted it. ¡°Impressive,¡± Zidash said. ¡°I suppose you wouldn¡¯t mind if we set up as well?¡± ¡°Go insane,¡± Alen said, before his mount took flight with a mighty beat of its massive wings. He ascended, the majestic City of Pillars burning with flaming lights just below him. Specters were beginning to form, ghostly warriors made of pure magic that normal weapons could not touch. He waved his hand, and dozens of streaks of dark mana snaked out to fill the corpses of fanatics below. They began to rise. He nodded and looked to the front. Up ahead, two kilometers away, large amounts of cultists were getting ready to mount an offensive. To take the Lodge and slaughter the people in the safehouses, no doubt. He¡¯d like to see the bastards try. As bad as the situation seemed, at this point, Alen really just wanted to see what would happen when he finally let loose. He opened up his status screen.
Status:
Name: Alen Race: Human Type: Necrotic
Current Threshold: 30
Health: 84% Stamina: 79% Mana: 67%
Strength: 70 Dexterity: 72 Agility: 60
Constitution: 70 Vitality: 74 Resistance: 57
Intelligence: 142 (+) Wisdom: 224 (+++) Control: 180 (++)
Skills:
Mana Programming, Dominate Undead, Necrotic Blessing, Numb Senses, Numbing Mist, Summon Greater Skeleton, Rotfire/Deathflare Blast, Deathchill Grip, Deathchill Pulse, Conjure AutoBone Design, Skeletal Detonation, Vitality Manipulation, Drain Vortex, Blightwater/Darkwater Surge, Raise Greater Undead, Skeletal Vajra, Magelight, Create Specters, Mana Sense
System Applications:
Soul Editor, AutoBone, System Notepad
His mana was a bit low, but his supply was massive, and the rate of which it regenerated was even more astonishing. He pulled the necrotic stone from within his robes and placed it into his artificial right arm. It merged into the keratin and sent electricity surging up his body. Alen raised his arm and watched as the army of undead below were lathered in Deathchill are Rotflame as Necrotic Blessing took effect. Alen grinned. The cultists were moving. They were coming closer and closer. Any closer, and they would be triggering the first of his mines. The Kavarith riders were also ready, mounted on rooftops and positioned in alleyways, ready to flank and strike. Just a little closer and¡ª Something dropped from the sky. A thunderous boom rang out, and suddenly, it made the rest of the world soundless in comparison. A crater formed within the center of his frontline, crushing one of the Boulder Crabs to the ground as its carapace caved in from the impact. From within the dust, a figure stood and looked up at him. A wind blew, the dust cleared, and Alen locked eyes with Slayh the Diviner, who stared back. He bit his tongue. ¡°Fucking hell.¡± Book 3, Chapter 17: A Blue Canvas Necromancer and Co., Book 3: The Underearth
Chapter 17: A Blue Canvas
[Alen] ¡°Uh, anyone nearby?¡± Alen asked, pressing down on the button as he stared down at Slayh below. His horde had the man surrounded, and it seemed like such an easy task to drown the man in his pack of undead, but Alen knew that a person who could stand on the same height as Seith would be no one to scoff at. He stared down at the Kivotl man, and Slayh¡¯s dark eyes stared back up at him. ¡°You are not attacking,¡± Slayh spoke, and despite the distance between them and the beating of the Matriarch Gorebat¡¯s wings, Alen could hear his voice perfectly; taunting, goading. ¡°No, you,¡± Alen replied, his hand moving through multiple screens. His undead were positioned mostly at the front, facing off against the fanatics that refused to attack. They had a defensive perimeter set around them, and the simmering glow of the shields they erected would be difficult to pierce through without expending a large amount of mana. That was something Alen could not afford to waste at the moment. A voice came in through the party¡¯s comms. ¡°Sam here. I¡¯m close to the Lodge. I can see you on the Gorebat from down here.¡± ¡°Lynn. You two are at the Lodge? I¡¯m on my way Alen. I¡¯m with Roland and Adam.¡± ¡°Yo,¡±Adam greeted, followed by a grunt of confirmation from Roland. ¡°Big problem here,¡± Alen said. ¡°Slayh¡¯s come here alone and I amverysure that he¡¯s here to kick the shit out of my ass. Hurry up. If any of you can get here first, then¡ª¡° Slayh spoke up, ¡°If you aren¡¯t going to come, then I will finish my business here first.¡± ¡°Oh, I¡¯ll come, just you wait,¡± Alen shouted down from above. Slayh ignored him and started walking towards the Lodge. Alen stopped. ¡°Hey,¡± he called out, ¡°what the fuck are you doing? You¡¯re here after me, right?¡± ¡°Far from it,¡± Slayh replied, walking up to one of his Boulder Crabs, which loomed over the man menacingly. ¡°Our target is to reap as many lives as possible. You are not important enough to supersede that initiative.¡± ¡°Fuck me,¡± Alen cursed, before speaking into the party chat once more. ¡°He¡¯s after the refugees in the Lodge¡¯s safehouse. Hurry up guys. Get here as soon as you can. I¡¯m going to try and stop him.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t die,¡±a voice said, but Alen was too focused on his horde to notice the speaker. He waved away the screen. Slayh approached the Boulder Crab, and Alen had it sit still. Ignorant, Slayh walked right between its legs, and just as he reached the center, Alen whipped his hand down. Boom! The pavement crumbled. The Boulder Crab smashed down with the whole weight of its body, its abdomen simultaneously lighting up with vicious Deathfire. The thunderous boom rang out, and Alen clenched his fist, causing spikes of chitin to explode out from the crab¡¯s underside and smash further into the pavement. His summon rose, tendrils of dust rising up from the crater below it. Slayh walked out unharmed. Skeletons rushed at him. One swung its sword, he ducked, and his elbow smashed into the summon¡¯s jaw, blowing its head apart. Another stabbed, and he twisted, snapping the attacker¡¯s elbow with his forearm. Both summons began to bubble up violently, and Slayh grabbed the large masses of bone matter and smashed them together in front of him, blocking a volley of arrows Alen¡¯s other summons loosed. Alen began to swoop down on his mount. His eyes flared ferociously. ¡°Detonate!¡± He commanded, and the two skeletons began to crack, Deathfire swirling within the mass. Slayh threw them towards the archers, intending to blow the line apart. Spikes of bone matter stabbed into the ground from the skeleton¡¯s legs. More summons surged behind them, shoving their torsos forward to aim the skeletal cannons at Slayh. Skeletal Detonation. Amethyst-colored claws burst out from the ground where Slayh stood, but he was already leaping up into the air. The shotgun blast of skeletal shrapnel missed him completely. Alen felt his mana pulse. The claws, pointed up, exploded as well, sending Deathfire-lathered bullets toward Slayh. The Kivotl responded by grabbing the maul on his back and swinging, shattering the initial volley. The shards that flew past him bubbled up as well. ¡°Again!¡± Alen roared, and the shards exploded, aiming for the man¡¯s back. Slayh twisted with uncanny timing and bashed it apart as well. Alen smashed into him with his Matriarch midair, and its fangs sunk into his skin. They pierced, but not nearly as deeply as Alen expected them to. He aimed his left hand down. Deathflare Blast! Just before his spell was loosed, a webbed hand shot out and grabbed onto his wrist. Slayh pulled, and Alen was helpless as he was tossed off his summon. The black flames wildly spilled out from his palm as he spun in the air. Some of it splashed into Slayh who paid the injury no heed as he grabbed the Gorebat¡¯s head andpushed. Alen fell towards the ground. He rolled, dispersing the force of the fall. He looked back, and a shadow loomed over him. Slayh, falling from the sky, Matriarch Gorebat in tow. Boom! The massive skeletal bat crashed into the pavement, head sinking into the stone from the impact. Slayh spun, maul breaking past the skulls of the two Kavarith lunging towards him. The Huruk riders pounced on him, but he stepped to the side, avoiding the two spears. The handle of his maul snapped the neck of one, but he was too late in dispatching the other. It exploded, and the bone shrapnel grazed past his back. Slayh had twisted in the last second, minimizing the damage. A pack of Rock Dogs rushed at him as Alen stood up a distance away, covered in dust and sweat. Slayh let the dogs bite into him, their unaugmented bites and claws doing little damage. He killed each one systematically as he walked towards Alen. ¡°Where are those black flames?¡± Slayh said, killing another summon in his advance. The little wounds on his body were already healing, closing up. ¡°You¡¯re pretty strong against them,¡± Alen said, backing up and filling the gap between them with summons. A swarm of Gorebats surged in and lashed at Slayh, wings covered in Deathfire. Slayh swung his maul and killed many as they passed, but many small, lacerated wounds covered his body, scorched by the black flames. Alen noted that those wounds were healing a lot slower than the others. ¡°Your flames are merely weak,¡± Slayh said, his maul shattering a Boulder Crab¡¯s right claw. The left one exploded and he calmly sidestepped, avoiding it. The massive crab lunged, and its mandibles dug into Slayh¡¯s neck. ¡°Weak,¡± he said, as he grabbed its face with his hand.Cra-a-ack!Rifts spread throughout the shell of the crab, and it shattered before him, falling to the ground. ¡°Weaker than Seith¡¯s. Much weaker.¡± ¡°Well, he¡¯s a lot higher on the thresholds than I am,¡± Alen replied, blocking off Slayh and letting his mana tick back up. Forty two percent. Forty three. Slayh shook his head. ¡°That is not the cause.¡± ¡°And that would be..?¡± ¡°You do not hunger like he does,¡± Slayh said. ¡°Your desire is strong, but it does not drive you as strongly as it does Seith. He is a starving orphan willing to sacrifice everything for his next meal. You? You are a beggar on the street.¡± ¡°I always envisioned myself as an unemployed homeless man,¡± Alen quipped. Forty six. Forty eight. ¡°Could you cut me some slack and fuck off, then? You don¡¯t look like someone who bullies homeless people.¡± ¡°You will find that your assumptions are wrong very soon.¡± ¡°Really? I like to see the good in people.¡± ¡°You will find none in me.¡± ¡°Even if I ask nicely?¡± ¡°Even if you ask nicely,¡± Slayh calmly responded, snapping the neck of a leaping skeletal Rock Dog with his bare hands. Pieces of bones and teeth began to rain all around him. Alen¡¯s summons began to back off. Forty nine percent. Fifty. Alen looked up at him, eyes sharp as magic arced between his fingertips. ¡°Guess I¡¯ll have to be rude, then.¡± Necrotic Blessing: Deathfire. Skeletal Detonation. A massive explosion of black flames and shrapnel tore through the street. Slayh jumped through the rising smoke, but Alen was faster. The Kivotl man looked up, eyes wide in surprise. Alen locked eyes with him as he pushed his prosthetic arm to the man¡¯s chest. Deathchill Grip. Slayh snapped the arm off at the elbow, leaving it stuck to his chest. Alen punched him in the face with his other hand.Darkwater Surge.Water filled to the brim with the mysterious obsidian and ivory magic surged out like a tidal wave into Slayh, seeping into the wounds all over his body and destroying the cells faster than they returned. Deathchill Pulse. The two spells activated almost simultaneously. The Darkwater froze within the festering wounds, expanding like millions of tiny, icy needles that only served to tear the flesh open further and further. Alen raised the remnants of his snapped right arm. It began to bubble up. A webbed fist blew through the smoke. His arm detonated. The fist smashed into his chest. Crack.It was audible as soon as the fist connected. Alen was blown away. He flew across the shattered pavement. He crashed through a house, through the tables, the pantry, and came out the other side, where he roughly skidded to a halt. He looked up, blood caking his face. Multiple cultists surrounded him. Their magic flared and their weapons shone, ready to strike him down. His chest was shattered, and he¡¯d flown straight into their formation. ¡°Hell,¡± he managed to choke out, before the attacks mercilessly rained down on him. A crater was formed where he stood from the massive barrage. Smoke rose like violent fumes. It began to fade, and in the center, a single suit of armor rose, suspended in the air by keratin roots stabbed into the ground. Cultists rushed towards him. They didn¡¯t get far. As soon as they got within three meters of him, they fell to the ground screaming. A wave of frost swept through a large area around the crater, and as it reached the peak of its expansion, it rushed back and swept through once again. With it, it brought back a large amount of green motes of light. It all sunk into the armor, which stood in the middle of it all. Standing. Unyielding. It began to melt. Enamel and bone matter sloughed off the mass, falling to the ground. Black, booted feet followed, lightly landing. Fanatics rushed to surround the crater, watching the single person standing in the middle. Even as they stared, his entire body let loose cracking, snapping noises as his bones readjusted themselves beneath the knitting, regenerating flesh. Alen felt his mangled chest snap back into place with the influx of life energy from Drain Vortex and Deathchill Pulse. He glanced back at the cultists, and they stiffened, involuntarily stepping back in fear. A divide formed in their ranks as Slayh stepped through the hole in the house Alen had crashed through. His stomach had a large gash on it. It was bleeding profusely, lacerated and full of still-burning shrapnel of Deathfire. His face was a mess, the skeletal structure of his skull showing through where the Darkwater had melted through the flesh of his face. The smaller wounds on his body were also festering, showing signs of varying degrees of necrosis where the Deathchill and Darkwater had rampaged through. Alen didn¡¯t miss the slight falter in the man¡¯s step as he reached the edge of the crater. He knew that this wouldn¡¯t last long, however. It seemed like this monster¡¯s vitality regenerated faster than even his magic. It was a war of attrition, and Alen felt like he was losing. Slayh looked down at him, and despite his situation, Alen stared right back. ¡°I thought you were heading to the safe house?¡± ¡°Plans are liable to change.¡± ¡°They really are,¡± Alen agreed, nodding. ¡°It sucks. The other day, I wanted to go out to buy some groceries, but Lynn decided to¡ª¡° ¡°Enough,¡± Slayh declared. ¡°No more of your delaying tactics.¡± ¡°I was just making small talk.¡± ¡°You¡¯re dangerous.¡± ¡°I think I¡¯m pretty nice.¡± Slayh began to descend from the top of the crater. ¡°My magic allows me to slowly grasp how my opponent fights. Even Seith, who stands above me, is wary about sparring with me for fear of my abilities. But you, you are¡ª¡° ¡°Cool?¡±This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon. ¡°¡ªunpredictable. You fight like a normal necromancer one moment, a coward in the next, and a frantic madman right after. I cannot read you. This makes you dangerous to me,¡± Slayh said, pointing his maul at Alen from across the crater. ¡°Therefore, you have forced me to acknowledge the threat you pose to our goals. You will have to die here today.¡± ¡°I can¡¯t say I¡¯m a fan of this development,¡± said Alen. ¡°Believe me when I say that neither am I,¡± Slayh shot back. He took a step forward. Alen tensed. Just before the two of them clashed once again however, a single snowflake drifted down to land on Alen¡¯s hand. He glanced at it, when suddenly a powerful gust of wind flew past him. The temperature dropped. The ground began to hiss and crackle as ice crept over the dirt and rubble. Alen looked up to see the backs of two people, icy mist swirling around their forms. White hair, black leather armor. Reliable back, cool demeanor. In front of him stood Lynn and Sam, ready to face the unstoppable Diviner himself. ¡°You know, I thought I had to do the whole passing out thing again,¡± Alen said, grinning. ¡°Don¡¯t worry,¡± Sam reassured him. ¡°It¡¯ll still happen anyways. Only difference is that we¡¯ll be here to save your ass right after.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll make sure to do it gently when I throw your body to safety,¡± said Lynn. ¡°My heroes,¡± he grinned. ¡°My mana¡¯s horribly low right now, so I¡¯ll be taking a seat back until I become useful again. Adam and Roland?¡± In response to his question, panicked shouts rang out from behind. A low thrum reverberated across the ground as the edge of the crater on the other side ruptured and began to slide down the slope. Roland slid down and started walking out of the rising dust, crossing the gap with shield and blade raised. A dagger flew out past Roland¡¯s shoulder. Slayh caught it by the blade. The air expanded. A figure appeared. Adam slashed down with his other blade. Slayh took a step back and raised his arm, blocking the attack with his limb. It sunk into his flesh and stopped short of slicing into his ulna. For once, his shark¡¯s head seemed wary as he looked at the five of them. Slayh locked eyes with Adam. ¡°You¡¯re different from before,¡± he noted. Adam grinned at him. ¡°That¡¯s ¡®cause this time, I¡¯m going to kick your ass.¡± Slayh flung his arm back and Adam jumped off, a trail of dust behind him as his feet dragged across the dirt. He waved his hand, and his dagger reappeared in his left hand. Adam began to circle him. He stopped in place to stand by his foe¡¯s back. The rest followed suit until Slayh was surrounded. Front, back, left, right, the four of them encircled him. Alen nodded and retreated to the top of the crater where he mounted his Stone Drake. He looked out over his summons. They would provide just a bit of support at most. He had to get back to fighting shape soon. The rest of them would handle Slayh. Now it was his turn to watch. ¡ªo¡ª Roland felt his blade become heavy in his grip. His palm felt moist beneath his gloves, and his a single droplet of sweat slowly traced the outline of the side of his face. There, he stood in front of Slayh, who was observing each and every one of them as they moved to surround him. Watching. Analyzing. They had to attack soon; attack before this man could use his strength to its full extent against them. Roland didn¡¯t need to signal them. Sam struck first. Ice raced across the ground, curving in an unpredictable pattern to form into a wave of icy spikes. They stabbed towards Slayh, and the Kivotl countered, smashing the ice apart with his maul. Roland began to move towards the man slowly, inching forward and scanning the way the tides of battle churned relentlessly. Lynn shot arrows of ice at him, and Slayh dodged, wary of their power. Adam was there, waiting. He pounced, blade arcing downwards. Slayh knocked his arm to the side with a well-placed elbow. Sam¡¯s ice crept out from under Slayh, and out of nowhere, a pillar shot up from the thin sheet of frost, slamming towards the man¡¯s chin. Slayh angled his head back and let it pass, stepping behind it to take cover from Lynn¡¯s arrows. The arrows pierced through and stabbed into his skin. Weakened by the pillar, they didn¡¯t go far. He snapped them off with the shaft of his weapon, all the while simultaneously blocking Adam¡¯s blades with uncanny precision. Lynn shot an arrow at Sam, who blocked it with a large chunk of ice. The arrow melted into the chunk as if shot into water. It flew towards Slayh. He smashed it with his maul, and the moment his weapon made contact with it, the rune Lynn¡¯s arrow transferred to the surface of the chunk exploded violently, into hundreds of sinewy tendrils. The vines reached out to grab onto him, but Slayh tore through them like paper. He smashed his maul out in a circle and Adam barely teleported out of the way before he was struck. Sam summoned two large blades of ice around him. They began to spin rapidly. He hurled them at Slayh. The Kivotl man twisted his body at the last second, the two blades passing harmlessly past him. Adam teleported in behind him, and Slayh reached back to grab onto his arm. He smashed Adam down towards the ground like a doll, but the latter disappeared right before the impact. Roland felt his eyes constrict.Now! He rushed forward, stabbing his sword out. Slayh began to twist his body when Roland copied his movements, turning the stab into a feint. He bashed his shield into Slayh¡¯s broad back. The fish-man stumbled, bones creaking from the ensuing vibrations ringing across his body. Roland cut him on the side with his rune-filled blade, passing through the flesh without any resistance. A massive boulder of ice crashed down from above him and immediately smashed Slayh into the ground. Adam, who had teleported above the glacier drive his sword into the back of Slayh¡¯s shoulder. He teleported away right before the maul smashed into him. Slayh began to stand when three blunt-tipped arrows weighing over a ton each slammed into his torso, shattering like an artillery shells on impact. He took a step back and Lynn kicked him from underneath his jaw, causing his head to rock up. She stabbed an arrow underneath his armpit. It exploded into flames as she jumped away. Roland slashed into the resulting cloud of dust and hit nothing. A maul slammed down and he blocked with his shield. It dented at the impact, and Roland felt his arm go numb from the sheer force of the strike before he was hurled away. A small pile of thick snow caught him, stopping him in place. Slayh rushed out of the dust like a freight train and reached an arm out towards Lynn. She sidestepped, but Slayh responded with a feint of his own. His hand shot up instead, where it grabbed onto the newly teleported Adam¡¯s leg. He pulled the teleporter down and smashed his body into the elf. The two of them tumbled away across the dirt. A horde of Gorebats descended from the sky and engulfed him immediately, each lathered in a coating of Deathfire. Slayh smashed his maul into the ground and dispersed them with the resulting shockwave. There, he stood, surrounded by enemies and undead waiting to strike. Even as he stood, he determined how each person around him fought, and slowly, he was beginning to grasp the necromancer¡¯s style as well. Those scorpions of his were no doubt digging towards him from below now too. He was starting to read them, but he wasn¡¯t doing it fast enough. Slayh glanced over them all one last time before he lowered his raised maul. ¡°I¡¯m leaving,¡± he said, then turned to leave. Everyone around him immediately paused. Alen, who was preparing to bring down another barrage of bats was immediately struck dumb as Slayh turned his back and calmly began to walk off. Adam threw a dagger and teleported in front of him. ¡°What, you¡¯re running now?¡± he asked. ¡°Yes, and you will not stop me,¡± Slayh said, staring him down. ¡°Oh yeah? We have you surrounded, and you¡¯re injured. You¡¯re running because you¡¯re scared. You¡¯re running because you¡¯relosing,¡± Adam mocked. ¡°Indeed,¡± Slayh confirmed. ¡°Coming into battle with your lot now will not benefit the Dark One in any way, and it will only waste precious time. Move aside, human.¡± ¡°And if I don¡¯t?¡± ¡°I¡¯d like to see you try not to.¡± The two of them stared up at each other, once again prepared to clash, when Roland raised his arm at the back. ¡°Stop,¡± he said. ¡°Let him pass.¡± Adam frowned at him. ¡°But we got him,¡± he argued. ¡°Slayh is no pushover,¡± said Roland. ¡°If we fight him here, we might be able to beat him, but trust that he¡¯ll take at least one of us down before he dies. It isn¡¯t worth it. Let him leave.¡± ¡°I recommend listening to the traitor, human,¡± Slayh said, glancing back at Roland¡¯s stern face. Adam glanced at Alen and the rest of them. Alen shook his head and Sam shrugged. ¡°Fine,¡± he said, lowering his blades and sheathing them. He stepped aside. Slayh walked past him immediately without saying a word. As he reached the rim of the crater, he raised his arm to the rest of the remaining fanatics. ¡°We¡¯re retreating,¡± he said, ¡°it is almost time, and nothing good will come of staying here.¡± Alen watched the rest of the cultists lower their weapons. They returned to formation and began to march away. He¡¯d¡ªthey¡¯d won. They defended the safe house, but it sure as hell didn¡¯t feel like a victory. He looked up and watched the flashing lights in the Cloud District fade. The battle was over. A person landed on the head of his mount. Zidash. ¡°Did we win?¡± Alen asked. ¡°With these many deaths, this is nothing short of a tragedy,¡± he said. ¡°The Cloud District has betrayed us. Some of the masked attackers were part of the military controlled by the city¡¯s governing group. It explains why no help has come despite the events that transpired today. I knew the Father and Casith had a rough relationship, but this¡­¡± ¡°Yeah,¡± Alen said. He didn¡¯t know much about the city¡¯s politics. Hell, he hadn¡¯t even met either of the people Zidash just mentioned. His summons transmitted information to him, and he nodded. The horde parted, and a group of Kaer approached, led by Dieter. Alen noticed how Razzan and Vexxaron were missing and frowned. ¡°Hey man. It¡¯s good to see you. Where are the others?¡± Sam asked, looking past Alen¡¯s hoard. ¡°Vexxaron never met up with the rest of us.¡± ¡°And Razzan?¡± Dieter¡¯s face darkened. ¡°Voluura,¡± he growled. Slightly behind him, a girl of the Kaer stood. She was thin and looked fragile. Her eyes had large bags underneath them, and she looked like hell. Alen suspected that she was the reason Dieter decided to attack the cult¡¯s headquarters in the first place. Sam in front of him pursed his lips and looked away. Answer enough. ¡°We managed to defend the top district mostly,¡± Alen pointed out. ¡°Slayh retreated after he fought us. This part of the city is safe¡ªwell, at least for now.¡± Dieter blankly nodded at him and moved past Alen and his mount, the sentient ball of flame on his shoulder looking more deflated than usual. Alen mentally sighed. They were all tired. Really, as insensitive as it sounded, he just wanted to get this over with. Too much had happened in too small of a time frame. It was almost unreal. Alen began to mobilize his summons, spreading them over a large area to keep track of any potential threats that might make its way towards them. He sent a group to the middle district and focused on them. The information would come flowing soon. ¡°I¡¯m thinking of opening a milkshake place after this,¡± Sam said, and Alen blinked as he noticed his friend who was now standing beside him. ¡°Why milkshakes?¡± he asked. ¡°It just seems chill, you know? None of this stuff. Just me, making milkshakes and maybe ice cream and selling it to kids in some random village,¡± Sam replied, a small pile of snow coalescing in his palm. ¡°I think I¡¯d be happier doing that.¡± ¡°Yeah,¡± Alen said. A moment of silence passed before he spoke again. ¡°You know, you don¡¯t have to settle down in some rustic old village.¡± ¡°What do you mean?¡± ¡°We can travel. See the world out there without all this fighting. Enjoy ourselves a little. Spread your milkshakes across the continent. Form a band. Go camping. The simple stuff. The fun stuff.¡± Sam looked up at the cavernous ceiling of the Underearth and placed his hands in his robe pockets. He let loose a breath. ¡°I always liked singing,¡± he said. ¡°What would we name the band?¡± ¡°Something about eggs.¡± ¡°Omelette?¡± Sam laughed. ¡°I can live with that.¡± Alen grinned and took his phone¡¯s casing out from one of the pouches the employee from the Lodge had brought out. He pulled the keratin lid off and looked down at the cracked screen of the device beneath. ¡°I wanna find a charger for this thing,¡± he said. ¡°I miss my music.¡± ¡°We¡¯ll add it into the checklist my dude.¡± ¡°Priority numero uno?¡± ¡°My milkshake enterprise takes that spot.¡± ¡°Understandable,¡± Alen nodded. He put the phone and its protective casing back into the storage pouch, which he deposited into his robes. He looked down at Lynn and Roland, who was watching Adam juggle his weapons around. Every time one of them threatened to fall from his hands, he¡¯d teleport them right back and resume the cycle as if nothing happened. He jumped off his summon. They still had things to take care of. People to save and all that. Honestly, he was tired of all the fighting, but he wanted to do it. He wanted these people to see the next day. ¡°Hey!¡± he shouted, and the group turned to look at him. ¡°Let¡¯s¡ª¡° Thrumm. A vibration echoed through the entire city. Alen felt it pass his body, reverberate within his insides and rattle within his soul. Everyone around him stopped and tensed. Thruuummmm. It came again. Humming, vibrating. It was a persistent noise, the effect lingering long after its passing. Alen felt a chill run up his spine. Something was wrong. Something wascoming.All the instincts contained in his body screamed at him to run. Run away as fast as possible. Feedback came from his summons in the middle district. A hole. A hole had opened up in the middle of the lower district, and his summons were flying right above it. Like a massive sinkhole, it gaped and swallowed everything in its path. It expanded, and what was in the center became much clearer. A passage. A hole. A pit. Twisting, cavernous walls that snaked and warped its dimensions like an abstract mosaic. Pillars of stone connected one side to the other. Alen recognized it. It was the entrance to the Undearth. It was the hole they had fallen into on the first day. Problem was, it wasn¡¯t heading up. It was going straight down. It was going straight down, and whatever was down there was slowly climbing up. Thruuuuuummmmm. The sound beat against everything it reached. As it passed through him again, Alen paled. This sensation was unmistakable. It was the sensation of being watched. The sensation of walking through the woods alone at night, knowing that something just past the brush was staring right at him. The sound wasn¡¯t a noise or a vibration. It was a sensory function. He looked at the rest of his party and saw the same looks on their faces. His connection to the summons flying above the pit were abruptly cut. Alen¡¯s gaze looked out over to the distance. Parts of the top district closest to the center of the city were beginning to crumble and fall, sucked into the pit in the center. The winds began to blow in the same direction, gradually strengthening. The damn thing was sucking the city in. ¡°Run!¡±he screamed, before bolting towards his summoned Stone Drake. The rest followed. They began to climb and board it. The people in the Lodge ran back to the building in a panic. Alen¡¯s summon ran past the rest of his horde. Gorebats flew behind him, tearing a small piece of bone from the corpse of the Matriarch Gorebat. The piece fell into his palm. His Stone Drake rushed past the Lodge and entered the edge of the top district. The side of his face felt hot. Alen looked up. On the ceiling, a hole had been torn open. On the other side of it, Alen saw blue and white. Sky. Clouds. Sunlight. The sun shone down on his face for the first time in over half a year. He felt his breath catch. ¡°Alen!¡± Lynn shouted, snapping him out of his reverie. She pointed, and he followed her hand to see the expanding rift in the center of the city. The area around it was dark and gloomy, and it was only getting darker by the second. Something was rising up from the pit. ¡°Fuck,¡± he cursed, looking down at his mount. ¡°I can get us out of here. I have a way to reach that hole. I just need time, and pray to the fucking gods, some luck.¡± He took the Matriach Gorebat¡¯s bone shard and slammed it down into the Stone Drake¡¯s head. God, he hoped this plan would work. Book 3, Chapter 18: Ending As It Began Necromancer and Co., Book 3: The Underearth
Chapter 18: Ending As It Began
[Alen] Fiddling around with Soul Editor was a messy process. The soul was something like a rope, thin cords made out of thinner cords winded together in one big, sturdy¡ªbut organized¡ªmess. Right now, Alen was dismantling two ropes, and trying to replace specific individual strands from one rope with one from another. It didn¡¯t help that each rope was made from materials that couldn¡¯t be farther from each other either. Alen dismantled the Matriarch Gorebat¡¯s soul within the editor, dividing parts of it into neat little parts. Next, he did the same to the Stone Drake, lining up each of the parts parallel to one another. Previously, each strand of the soul was just a solid thing to Alen, but now that his control and understanding of magic had increased, he could see it. Strands within strands. The strings that made up the smaller cords of the final product. He pulled up the matriarch¡¯s purple strand¡ªthe one governing muscle memory. He dissected it, pulled it apart, separating the cords of the creature¡¯s soul further and further. Alen separated the strands for the bat¡¯s wings from the rest of the group. Then, he repeated the process for the Stone Drake. Now, he was faced with a choice. He could either try to integrate a new limb and make his Stone Drake into a dragon, or sacrifice a lot of what made the summon powerful for the sake of speeding up the process by turning the damn thing into a wyvern instead. Even though the answer should¡¯ve been blatantly clear, Alen had to admit that he hesitated for a good few seconds before making his choice. Trying to put in a new limb was a bad idea. Too messy, too time consuming, and most importantly, it was too risky. If the summon ended up awkward from the sudden change, there was no way they were getting out of the city in time. The Matriarch Gorebat¡¯s wings were never supposed to be on its back. If Alen tried altering it as drastically as he did, this thing would never fly. Muttering a curse under his breath, Alen pulled up AutoBone in another screen and inserted the muscle and skeletal structure strands of the Stone Drake. Immediately, the image of his summon began to take form. His summons were usually just made of the skeletal structure, with strings of mana acting as the muscles that pulled them together, but for the Stone Drake and the Matriarch, Alen took it a step further. He had taken the muscle configuration of the summon and replaced the flesh with the same kind of technique he had used to replace his right arm. Alen had to attribute the reason for his success in creating an artificial arm to that experiment. It had taken him weeks back then, and the effort had paid off. Though now, his arm was gone was again, and Alen dreaded going through the process of growing it back a second time. He shook his head. He would worry about that later. Right now, a more pressing problem was at hand, and he was running out of time quicker than he would like. His hands moved across both screens, configuring strands and erasing muscle and bone blueprints. Alen wiped away the front legs of the Stone Drake and replaced them with spindlier, longer arms that extended to a massive distance. He then took the blueprint for the Matriarch and copied the way the wings were made. Alen extended the leathery surface of the wings to move and connect to the drake¡¯s body, extending all the way to the tip of its tail like a kite. Next, he drastically lowered the thickness and strength of the summon¡¯s bones and keratin muscles. The scales and rock-like crags that extended out from all over its body receded, reducing the weight further. Alen pushed a large amount of mana into the new wings, and the muscles operating around the area. If this thing was going to carry their group, it was going to need a lot of strength in its new limbs. Alen slotted the new souls strands into the drake¡¯s muscle memory cord, essentially teaching it how to fly like a bat would. At least, that¡¯s what he hoped it would do. If his Stone Drake turned into a vegetable after this, then¡­ Actually, he didn¡¯t want to think about it. He winded the strands around one another, then pulled them tight, the new purple cord of muscle memory once again whole. Alen nodded and did the same for the rest of the cords until the new, hybrid soul was complete. The surroundings shook. More of the top district crumbled away into nothing. A large arm extended out from the forming pit. It was dark, like nothingness made visible. It was a void, an empty space that hungered to devour everything around it. More of them extended out, reaching out to grab onto the top district. They pushed down, pulling whatever was ascending up. Adam ran across the drake¡¯s neck and shook Alen¡¯s shoulder. ¡°Alen, hurry the fuck up man!¡± Alen pushed him away and pointed down at the Stone Drake. Its front legs began to disintegrate, and new stubs formed in their place, forming what would be the new limb. He looked back at Adam and met his eyes. ¡°I am! Actually, can¡¯t you teleport now? Stop waiting for us and go on ahead! We¡¯ll catch up!¡± ¡°You know I¡¯m not going to do that!¡± ¡°Then shut the fuck up and watch!¡± One of the arms raised itself up and slammed down into the ground. A head began to peek out of the gap in the middle of the city. It was the same as the arms, blank and featureless. An empty void. A black spot in a colorful canvas. It didn¡¯t turn towards them, but Alen knew it was watching. He knew it was aware. Everyone could feel it, right? The pulling sensation in his chest. That persistent, goddamn thrumming. The spindly arm finished growing, and a thin but sturdy layer of keratin extended out like a blanket to connect the arm to the rest of the body. One of the dark arms from the pit rose up and pointed its palm towards them. The keratin attached itself, forming inch by inch to grow the wing. Alen heard screaming around him; cursing. He focused on funneling the magic into his creation. Up ahead, the arm blurred forward to grab at them, crashing through houses and leaving cleanly devoured holes in its wake. The arm reached the edge of the city where they were. The wings finished growing on each side. The Dark One¡¯s arm slammed down. A single, low rumble echoed out. ¡ªo¡ª A gust of wind blew away the dust coating the ground. It came again, sweeping away more of the dirt particles. It was steady, rhythmic like the beating of a heart. Air was blown to the side, and the dust cleared to reveal the black void of a hand below, along with the dark, now flying form of the Stone Drake above it. Alen whipped his head back at the dark figure in the distance and raised a rude gesture at it. ¡°I¡¯m a fucking god, cunt!¡± he said, and the hand immediately moved in response, rising up to grab at him. The drake sped off to the side, avoiding it with ease. In the corner of his vision, Alen saw Lynn nock and loose a couple arrows. She shot them at the hand, which greedily absorbed the magic contained within. The hand shot forward again, curling in its path. Attacks from the back of the drake bombarded it, but none had any effect. The Stone Drake soared up, leaving the encirclement. The side of the hand bubbled, and another, smaller hand shot out to grab at them. Alen cursed and pulled the drake back, letting the hand soar up in front of them. With a quick command, the summon began to ascend, rising towards the open sky above. More of the branching limbs chased after them, and they avoided each one by the skin of their teeth. One grazed the drake¡¯s tail, and the cleanly disintegrated chunk it tore off was more than enough to tell Alen that getting touched by one these things was very, very dangerous. Another came, and Alen had to tuck the wings below his summon to make them descend rapidly, the gigantic hand roaring past just above their heads. Alen had his summon ascend, the beating of its wings a steady drum of moving air an thrumming wind. The hands went after them again, and this time, another limb in the distance sped towards them as well. Alen sent his summon straight towards it. One in the front and another in the back¡ªthey were going to be squashed like mosquitoes. ¡°Buckle your seatbelts!¡± Alen shouted. ¡°We don¡¯t have any!¡± Adam shouted. The drake¡¯s scaled bubbled up to surround them in a cocoon that reached until their waists in response. Alen watched the hand closer and grit his teeth. ¡°Better grab on tight then!¡± The Stone Drake whirled midair, the forward momentum tilting downwards into a diagonal descent in the last moment. Both hands crashed against one another above them with a boom that Alen could only imagine, as the collision was soundless¡ªempty. They sped off as quickly as they could, and Alen looked up just in time to see another limb extending out towards them, far too close to avoid. His summon lurched to a stop. The hand shot towards them. Attacks flew past Alen, slamming into the hand without any effect. Arrows, spears of flame, blades of wind, rune-filled javelins, and massive blades of ice. All of them sunk into the surface of the thing¡¯s palm, sinking into the abyss like rocks falling into dark waters. Without thinking, Alen raised his arm as well. A roar rumbled out from his throat as his mana gathered in his hand, condensing, processing all his work to form what he would consider to be his signature offensive spell. Deathflare Blast. Silence. It lasted for an instant that felt far too long, the usual feeling of nothingness that followed after Alen released his spell. Then, the sounds rushed back in. The beating of wings, the thundering throbbing of his heart in his chest. Alen opened his eyes, and he spotted the hand paused in mid-air, undamaged, but completely covered in his flames. All the approaching hands paused in their paths, and immediately, they sped towards the single hand in front of them, dogpiling atop it and greedily devouring the flames. Alen only let his eyes linger on the mass of hands for a second before he directed his summon up once again. Far in the distance, the Dark One floated in the middle of the City of Pillars, endless pit underfoot. Instead of looking straight up, it stared at him. Him. Alen made eye contact with its dark, expressionless face, and he felt a connection form. He pulled his gaze away in a panic, but it was too late. It was back. The feeling he had felt inside of the cult¡¯s headquarters was back. It had bothered him then. How had he forgotten about it? No, he hadn¡¯t forgotten. It had been wiped from his mind¡ªerased like chalk on a blackboard. He¡¯d been forced to forget. Alen shuddered. His Wisdom was disgustingly high. Hell, it was his highest fucking stat, and he was a goddamn min/maxer. The way that he was forced to forget about something so prominent in his mind mid-thought so casually was terrifying. If it could influence him that much, could it brainwash him? There was a nagging feeling in the back of his head, as if there was something just under his skin that was taking refuge within his body. I can sense your desire, my child. Alen¡¯s eyes constricted as his vision flashed back to the dark figure in the center of the city. They were ascending quickly, but everything around him seemed slow, as if he was swimming through mud. Because of this, the Dark One¡¯s figure was made especially prominent. It was staring at him. It was speaking to him. He could hear it in his head, in the place within his mind that was so silent and desolate that the emptiness scared him. Selerius was unresponsive¡ªsilenced. Home is a wonderful thing is it not? I can feel your need for it. You¡¯re starved for it. You hunger for a place to belong. Alen pushed at the thing in his mind, trying to shove it out and away from him. It resisted him like a mountain would stand against a breeze. It continued, defying his will as easily as swatting an infant to the side. It is why you cling to these people with you. They are all you have. You want them and more. You are hungry for something like the home you were pulled from. The gods do this for their own entertainment. A never-ending cycle of twists to their eternal theatre. His vision zoomed, as his it was being stretched. It pulled his senses towards the Dark One as if it was a black hole. It pulled, and pulled, and pulled until everything was black. Alen whipped his arm around in the darkness. It was an empty void, nothingness made real. It reminded him of his mental space, but devoid of the vibrant memories and the comforting radiance of his own soul. In front of him, the Dark One stood, watching. I understand the anger you keep hidden within yourself, it said. I am also a victim of the gods. Even now, they allow my escape so that they may crush me again. It bolsters the faith of their followers. Oh how they relish the worship they receive from the descendants of the people they¡¯ve ripped from their homes. It angers me. It angers you as well, does it not?Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon. Alen felt anger fill his chest like molten lead. It burned within him like a wildfire, rapidly spreading to every corner of his body. The fury condensed into a single idea in his mind; the Gods. They were responsible for this. Yes, child. They are wicked beings apathetic to your own needs and wants. They take as they wish, and they give nothing in return. We wish to kill them. Bloodthirst filled his mind, the searing fury turning into cold, deep hatred. Alen wanted the gods dead. They needed to die. The Dark One extended a hand to him. Join me, and you will be free from their grasp. Alen reached out to take his hand, and the Dark One¡¯s face distorted into a massive, arcing smile. You already possess my magic. It has made you strong¡ªpowerful. I will give you more. I will grant you your deepest desires. Your friends, your family, a lover, and a home. You will take them for yourself, and I will give you the means to do it. Come, and I wi¡ª His palms flashed up. Alen¡¯s glassy eyes cleared. Mana surged within him, and his magic ramped up as if they were flames in a blazing hearth. He spoke two words in reply, ¡°Deathflare Blast.¡± The flames exploded out violently, the obsidian and ivory detonating from his palm as if he had detonated a grenade within his grip. It swallowed the Dark One, and it licked and marred the ground around it, devouring all in its path. The flames slowly dissipated, and in the center of it all, the Dark One stood, unharmed. Alen looked at him straight. ¡°No,¡± he said. Why do you refuse? ¡°I don¡¯t need you to give me anything. I already have my friends, I will meet my family again, and I will make a home for myself with my own hands,¡± he said, closing his fist. He closed his eyes. ¡°As for a girlfriend¡­ Well, I¡¯ll worry about that some other time.¡± You sense the truth in my words. I do not lie. I am hunger incarnate. I am a representation of desire and want. Your desire and want. Granting wishes is my reason to be. ¡°Nah,¡± Alen waved his hand to the side and grinned. ¡°My mommy told me to never take candy from strangers. That, and you¡¯re just sketchy as fuck. Get out of my head.¡± Your desire burns strong still. I do not understand. Why do you reject me? ¡°Are you stupid? For a god, you aren¡¯t sounding very smart,¡± Alen said, crossing his arms. ¡°Of course I still want what I want. Thing is, I may be a lazy piece of shit, but even I know that getting something for free devalues that something into something cheap, you know? Your offer¡¯s stupid. I¡¯ll work for my own happiness like I always have. Call me bitter, but I always hated people who got everything they had handed to them on a silver platter.¡± The Dark One stilled. Its arms lowered, and it gave him a long, long look. When it spoke, it no longer spoke in his mind. It spoke directly, its voice devoid of the sweet, enticing quality it held when it was speaking in his mind. Its voice was deep like the darkest of trenches, and it echoed throughout the entirety of the space around them, ¡°That is an interesting answer,¡± The Dark One said. ¡°I like to think of myself as an interesting person.¡± ¡°You are indeed. I am convinced. It is hypocritical, but I will take a page from the gods I despise so very much.¡± The world around them began to thaw and melt. Alen felt the wind on his face, the beating of his summon¡¯s wings in his ears. Before it completely melted away, he spoke. ¡°What do you mean?¡± The Dark One looked at him again, standing in the center of the City of Pillars as if no time had passed. He smiled at Alen. ¡°A test, if you will. Seith?¡± His eyes constricted. He whirled. A figure was already upon them, moving faster than he could react. Seith had jumped from the Cloud District, and he had come for them. Alen raised his arm. Seith lashed out with his foot. Alen blocked with a large chunk of keratin on his left sleeve. It splintered, and his bones cracked within his remaining arm. A blade descended, but Seith stepped around, dodging Adam¡¯s strike. A wave of frost washed over him, but black and white flames ignited around his body, searing away the frost before it could even form. Roland threw a javelin, but Seith avoided it with ease. His shield came next, but Seith ducked beneath it, a small dagger of Deathfire burning away the strap underneath. The shield fell from Roland¡¯s grip, but instead of countering, Seith lunged in a different direction. Lynn. She shot arrows at him, but Seith avoided each one with little to no wasted movements. The arrows went wide, Lynn¡¯s aim off from the risk of hitting the rest of the party. He punched out, and she ducked under the blow, only for Seith to twist his body and slam his elbow into the surface of her back instead. Lynn was blown to the side with a cry of pain, barely holding on to the flying summon. Adam rushed forward, and a foot caught his chest, launching him off the Stone Drake. Roland lunged with his blade. It cut into Seith¡¯s midsection. Seith countered with a punch that dented his armor and shattered the bones in his chest. Sam shot out dozens of icicles, but Seith waved his arm, and a torrent of Deathfire melted away at the freezing energy. It reached him, and Sam coated himself in frost to defend. He reeled, ice melted and arms horribly burnt. He fell back into the surface of the summon, and the keratin shot out just in time to grab onto his arms before he fell. Deiter rushed in from behind, shooting a concentrated beam of flame at Seith¡¯s back. Seith whirled, raised a Deathfire-covered arm, and erased the flame from existence. They stared at one another for a quick moment, before Deiter grabbed the Kaer woman named Kara and jumped off the summon, a blanket of flame carrying them and two more Hunters up and away. Seith watched at Adam teleported back onto the surface of the drake. The latter fell to his knees, clutching his chest and coughing up blood. The drake continued to ascend, and below, the Dark One watched as Seith turned to face Alen. ¡°You¡¯ve caught his eyes, I see,¡± Seith said, walking towards him. Alen sent a wave of spikes exploding out from the surface of his summon¡¯s back. Gouts of black and white energy shot out from Seith¡¯s body, systematically annihilating the coming attacks, his control unparalleled. Alen raised an arm and shot a blast of Deathfire at him, angled up as to not harm his summon, and Seith merely absorbed it into his hand, before sending it back at him with the force of a roaring inferno. The world around it was swallowed¡ªdevoured by the flames. Alen was barely able to defend with a stream of Darkwater before he himself was devoured. Gray mist flew past his face, whisked below them as the winged Stone Drake ascended. Seith conjured an obsidian, earthen blade into his hand. In the gaps between the stone, eerie, white lights faintly shone. He walked closer, closer. Alen glanced up at the sky. It was getting closer. They were so close. It was a gap he so desperately wanted to close, and yet, it couldn¡¯t be farther at this moment. Alen weakly raised his arm, mana drained as he shot a paltry spike of Deathfire-laced keratin at Seith. The latter tilted his body in response, slicing the spike off with the blade in his hands. He clenched his fists, reveling in the power. ¡°His presence empowers me,¡± Seith muttered, looking at Alen. ¡°Do you not feel it? You use his power for yourself, don¡¯t you? The Dark One is within our presence, and he has freed us from this prison. Why do you fight us? Freedom is all we desire, and he has helped us. He has helped you.¡± ¡°I¡¯ve helped myself, dumbass,¡± Alen spat, desperate for any chance to regain his magic. He eyed the percentages. Three percent. Four. ¡°You say this, but you use that magic as if it is yours. Do not be mistaken. He has given you this power.¡± ¡°Thagathos was the one who unlocked my affinity.¡± Seith smiled as if he was looking at a misguided child. ¡°Thagathos is dead, little mouse.¡± Alen frowned, ¡°That doesn¡¯t make any sense,¡± he said. He felt the magic within him. Five percent. A bit more, and he¡¯d have enough to cast a spell powerful enough harm the monster in front of him. A normal Deathflare Blast just didn¡¯t cut it anymore. He had to go bigger. Stronger. Something unexpected. ¡°The blind are truly unable to see.¡± ¡°No shit.¡± Seith seemed amused as he approached. ¡°You really seem to have a talent for mockery.¡± ¡°It¡¯s a two person job. I¡¯d have to congratulate you for being so easy to make fun of,¡± he shot back, licking his lips. He stepped back until he was at the edge of his summon¡¯s head. He could¡¯ve tried to whip the summon around, but at the state his friends were in, they were at risk of falling off. Alen¡¯s thoughts ran through his head like a book¡¯s pages being flicked open by the wind. His other undead? His ground summons could do nothing here. Gorebats? Too few. Most were annihilated by the fucking hands the Dark One sent out. He had no mana-filled shards left on his body, and most would have little effect. Seith shook his head at him, waving his hands and pulling out glowing blue shackles from his storage ring. ¡°The Dark One doesn¡¯t wish to kill you. Having someone be able to use his mana type is a rare thing. Surrender, and your friends may leave. They are of little consequence to the Dark One¡¯s goals.¡± ¡°Why the fuck is it so hard to get across that my answers to these questions are always going to be no?¡± ¡°It was worth a try,¡± Seith admitted. ¡°Force is always an option, however.¡± Seven percent. Alen shook his head at him and bent his knees, preparing himself for a confrontation. ¡°Yeah, good luck,¡± he said. ¡°I don¡¯t need it.¡± Seth dashed. His sword stabbed out. Time seemed to slow. Alen twisted his body to the side, right foot dragging across the surface of his summon¡¯s head to rest behind his left. Seith¡¯s blade met air. Alen¡¯s left fist shot out to punch, mana-charged Deathchill gathering on his knuckles. Seith knocked his arm aside, knuckles brushing past the his cheek and leaving destruction in their wake. Alen¡¯s left arm ruptured, and spikes of glistening white bones shot out from his flesh, lathered in virulent Deathchill. Seith¡¯s eyes constricted, black and white energy rushing out to protect his entire body. The spikes disintegrated. Then, six bone spears pierced his chest and exited through his back, ignoring the energy wreathing his form. He looked up in shock, and met Alen¡¯s eyes. There was a savage grin on the young man¡¯s face, but what shocked Seith was what he saw below. Out of the necromancer¡¯s chest, the six pikes had shot out, tearing skin and clothing in their path. Alen had used his own ribs to conjure his attacks. ¡°I never could get my keratin to out-strengthen my bones,¡± Alen said, blood leaking from his lips. Seith coughed up blood of his own onto his chest, and Alen panted, vision blurring. Seith looked up at him and smiled widely, blood coating his white teeth. ¡°Now this,¡± he snarled, ¡°this is impressive.¡± He moved forward, stabbing the spikes in deeper to come closer to Alen, who fell to his knees with a thump. Seith stared into his bloodshot eyes with a smile that reached his ears. ¡°You remind me of when I was younger. Underneath that face you put on, there is something feral, something savage. I was mistaken to doubt the Dark One¡¯s choices. You hunger like I do, and like a cornered animal, you are capable of scratching and biting until your claws and teeth lay shattered and broken. You are relentless. Dangerous.¡± Alen stared up at him defiantly, teeth gritted as Seith systematically snapped each spike off. White hot daggers of pain shot up from his spine into his mind with each snap, but Alen remained staring. When the final snap reached his ears, his vision darkened for the quickest of moments before the light returned. Seith reached out with his hand, a manic grin on his face. ¡°Come,¡± he said. ¡°There is a place for you in our order. Change has come, and you will have a place in it.¡± A weapon flashed in the morning sunlight streaming down from above. Seith caught the Orinwood dagger by the blade, the weapon digging into his palm. Adam teleported, and he slashed down at Sieth¡¯s shoulder with his shortsword. Seith reached back in annoyance, but four earthen arrows slammed into his body, shattering the air on impact. He stumbled back, shooting a venomous look at Lynn who was standing on a plate of ice that floated beside the flying drake. Sam reached out, controlling it. Seith extended his arm to shoot her down when an impact beat into his chest and jarred him. Vibrations shot into his body from the fist that had sunken into his abdomen. Seith felt his organs rupture from the attack, and blood exploded out from between his lips. Air shot past him. He¡¯d been blasted off the summon. Alen felt something touch his lips, and a warm fluid ran down his throat right after, heat surging into his body and regenerating his wounds at a visible rate. His eyes cleared as he recognized the last of the strange potions Lynn had brought with her in the Underearth. Roland had forced him to drink it. He shot up and looked up just in time to see blue chains shoot up from below and latch around Lynn¡¯s ankle. It dragged her down, and then, Alen watched her disappear from view. Alen pushed past Roland with a strength he didn¡¯t know he had. He jumped. Spikes erupted underneath his feet and slammed into his summon¡¯s jaw. He shot straight down. Why? He remembered asking, months ago. The Dark One¡¯s arms rose up all around him, cutting him off from the rest of his party. It¡¯s deep, goading voice echoed out from his head, but he ignored it. He didn¡¯t care. Far below him, he saw Seith sink into one of the arms, and above Seith, a figure of white and black stared up at Alen with shock in her sapphire eyes. Personal thing. I just hate it when I don¡¯t pay someone back after they do something for me, y¡¯know? Alen straightened his body like an arrow. Screams rang out from behind him, calling his name as his summon soared up to exit the Underearth, exiting out into the open sky. If you¡¯re going to die trying to save me, then the least I can do is keep you company. He reached out and grabbed her hand, pulling her towards him. Her hands latched into his shoulders as they fell, shaking him. ¡°Why!? Are you stupid!?¡± Lynn screamed. Alen grinned at her and shrugged. ¡°I¡¯m very much stupid, but if you¡¯re going to die trying to save me,¡± Alen repeated her words, ¡°then the least I could do is keep you company.¡± Her eyes widened. Alen looked past her and stared down at the Dark One, who was getting closer and closer by the second. His true form was gigantic, easily twenty meters tall. It was humanoid, but instead of features, it looked like a void, an black emptiness in space in the shape of a person. Its voice echoed out all around them, confused. ¡°Do you not wish to fulfill your desires? Did you not wish to create a home? To meet your companions again? Was that not what you told me? Why choose this decision? I cannot understand.¡± Alen looked down at him as they fell. ¡°Shit happens. Don¡¯t try to summarize what I want with what you¡¯re saying. What I hunger for is happiness.¡± ¡°And this? This makes you happy?¡± ¡°Hell no. I¡¯m about to fucking die. Thing is, you don¡¯t understand a thing. If I let this happen, I¡¯ll never reach the kind of happiness I want to achieve. I want to live without a single goddamn regret,¡± Alen coughed, the noise carried away by the wind. ¡°After all, I have all those other goals, but if I let the girl I like die without doing a thing, I¡¯ll have a regret haunting me for the rest of my life. I am absolutely, definitely, without a single fucking doubt, content, so you better fucking¡ª¡° Hands seized his collar and pulled. Alen felt something soft land on his lips. His eyes widened as he stared into Lynn¡¯s face. Her eyes were closed, and they opened as she pulled away from the kiss. She landed a light punch into his chest as she looked away, avoiding his eyes. ¡°No wonder you fell for me when I did this,¡± she said. ¡°Using it against me isn¡¯t fair.¡± Alen felt the grin on his face. Despite the hopelessness of the situation, warmth filled his chest. He was happy. He was content. He stared down at the City of Pillars and all of its beautiful, glimmering lights. One by one, like stars in the night sky, they went out, swallowed by the Dark One¡¯s gloom. ¡°Hey, I needed you to fall for me somehow,¡± he said. ¡°This was the only option I could think of.¡± Lynn shot his own words back at him, ¡°Since we''re doing it like this, I hate you,¡± she managed to say, before the darkness swallowed them both. End of Book 3. Afterword Sooooo, Book 3''s finally over. It''s been one hell of a ride guys. First of all, I''d like to thank everyone that was there to support me throughout the entirety of my writing. To those people that left meaningful comments like Dragrath, Prinny Knight, Havoc, Deinos, servus, Vladaye, Hickups, Caskie, Caliver, DarkSpark, and many, many others, you have my absolute thanks. Your comments, whether critical, analytical, or just plain comedic, have never failed to make my day. Seriously. You guys have me checking my dashboard every hour. And to those in my Patreon, thank you so much as well. Jacob, Grevis, and Matt have been very supportive with their comments, and giving me your hard earned money just so you can read a few chapters ahead in my story is the biggest form of flattery you can send my way. I''m sorry I wasn''t able to stick to this fiction until the end (Book 7), but I hope you guys''ll stick around to read what else I have to offer. The same goes to everyone who has read my stuff. I love writing, and there''s nothing I want more than to improve and shove my work out there for people to read and enjoy.This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work. Necromancer and Co. helped me through a lot of dark times when I moved away and had to adjust to a new and alien environment, and I subconsciously reflected a lot of what I was feeling through the events and characters within the story. I put a piece of myself out for people to see, and I''m happy so many of you enjoyed it. However, it''s been thirteen months, and a lot of things have changed. I''ve found myself in a better place, and this story played a large part of getting me there, so I''d like to give my sincerest thanks to everyone that read my fiction. It''s been a wonderful experience, and it''s something that''s definitely changed me since I moved to where I am a year ago. The difficult times are over, and I''ve both grown and changed as a person. Necromancer and Co., as I said, was a crutch that helped me walk during that time, but I don''t need it to keep going anymore. Personal reasons have caused this story to become difficult and emotionally draining to continue writing, so for now, I will have to put it back on the shelf. I will however keep my pen in my grip. The only difference is that I''ll be grabbing a new sheet of paper so I can craft a new story for everyone on this site to read. I''ll be releasing it next month or so, so until then, I will be somewhat inactive on everywhere else besides my Discord server. Once again, thanks for reading everyone. I''ll see you all later.