by Han Yang
I unbound the knot and paused. “Asha, take Charlie and scout for any major forces. I want to upgrade you and then Sprinkles. I only expect our fighting power to be down for a few minutes, but no sense in risking it.”
“Wise to ensure our area is without surprise attack, and as you command, Boss,” Asha said, leaving the tent.
I unrolled the parchment, reading the contents out loud. “War Chief Tarro wishes to notify you that necromancers are welcome within his walls and is open to trading with you. Together, we can kill the humans and make this cesspit of a planet like Ostriva.”
Tarla snorted then laughed. “He doesn’t realize you’re human.”
“Which is fantastic. Best to keep it that way. Probably saw Delsy and figured she was the Necro Lord. I’ll stick to armor and continue to pretend to be a knight. Yermica, you wear a hood everywhere going forward now,” I ordered, and she nodded. I huffed, biting my lip in thought. “Yeah, I don’t think anyone suspects the necromancer to wear heavy armor. It sucks to do, but it's smart, and that’s what matters most right now.”
“How do you want to proceed with this…?” Tarla leaned over my shoulder. “Chief Tarro?”
“Well, we blitz through his controlled lands and avoid conflict. Well, besides any his people bring towards us. Weakness will likely hurt our standing. The second we transition through orc lands, well, that’ll screw Prince Lao. The orcs will bring the fight to him if he follows,” I said.
“Yeah, interesting strategy, Boss,” Nee said. “You grow your army while forcing the enemy into a bad situation.”
“Ha! Finally. Glad to see you see it the way I do. Look, we can blitz through Ostriva lands with and without issues. A big human army, probably not. I mean, the only reason they got through minotaur lands is because you're not looking for a fight, right?” I asked Nick.
“Pretty much. We signed a nonaggression pact for three months with King Karn, including a bonus to use our lands to hunt you. That won't last through the orc forest, cyclops plains, or the great plains. I fear for this... Bell’s welfare,” Nick said.
I unbound the second parchment.
After unspooling the paper, I read, “Your life for those you care about. A fine trade. We both know you’re not long for this world. Your vile magic and perverse nature has no place on Nordan. Signed, Toneba. Well, we can reuse the paper at least.”
This only earned a light chuckle from the others. I unrolled the third parchment after unbinding the string.
“Dear Damien, my prayers to Caitlyn have gone unanswered, and so I turn to her champion. My daughter found love. The man was tortured, flayed, and healed over and over until she confessed everything. After she did, Toneba tried to protect her, but Prince Tao wanted to send a clear message.
“You’re going to die, those around you will suffer, and a champion of Ostriva will be cleansed from Nordan by fire. There will be no mercy, no quarter, and no doubt in the great Arax’s name that you will come to justice.
“Your death will only be swift if you surrender now. Each day that you fail to give yourself up will result in another day of Bell, Kerny, and my flaying. Signed, a woman in need of redemption, Nim.” I clenched the paper in anger.
Asha returned, catching the tail end of the message.
“That’s the only leverage they have,” Asha said.
I nodded. “This… Bell will have to understand. I hope she does. She will suffer in the short term. They’ll kill her if I turn myself in. She’s worth too much not to. The woman is in a horrid situation.
“They’ll kill her when they can’t catch me. They’ll kill her when I start to win. Nessio sentenced her to torture and death, and there’s nothing I can do to change that,” I said between clenched teeth. “I’m furious and oddly calm. I feel terrible, and yet, resolute. Tell me, how did scouting go?”
“Clear.”
I nodded. “Last chance. Do you want to be bigger and stronger?”
“I fear I’ll lose some agility,” Asha said with uncertainty.
“We can keep you as is for now.”
“I’ll try level 3 but no higher, and, of course, suppressed until you revive me,” Asha said.
I left my chair, ensuring Yermica’s hood went over her head. Our procession left the interior of the tent, and I walked across the gritty terrain until I was outside the camp’s barricades.
“Sprinkles, I need you in front of me. Hey, Lumpy, I see you trying to hide. You’re fine for today. I need to do these bit by bit, but you’re getting an upgrade when my mana restores tomorrow. Even minion cats have sass,” I scoffed. I patted Asha forward and said, “Alright, get in front of me and suppress memories. Good. Lay down. Yermica, stand in front of me while I chant and sway your hands.”
I ensured I wasn’t on top of Asha, giving him space.
The rest of the magic wouldn’t kill, but the ghoulish hands claiming his flesh would. I sat cross legged, adjusting until I found a slight comfort.
“Through progression, a necromancer preserves life. Through progression, a necromancer preserves life. Through progression, a necromancer preserves life,” I chanted loudly.
When the fine line hit, I willed my magic to seek an upgrade. The connection to Asha was instant.
Elva Minion: Suppressed - Asha.
Health 27/27. Level 2.
Sapient Elva.
Fighting Abilities: Highly proficient.
Memories intact.
Upgrade Available. Consume 241/255 mana and 0 Zorta (YES) or (NO).
“Shit, free. Score,” I said, selecting yes.
His body seized, slightly vibrating over the hard terrain. My reaper left my chest, slithering out of Yermica's legs like she was casting.
I watched and probably should have closed my eyes. The reaper’s hand shot into the chest of Asha, driving the heart out the back and instantly killing him.
Ghouls devoured his flesh quickly, their hungry moans of fulfillment sent shivers down my spine. When their grisly work was complete, his bones clattered into a pile.
Black magic seeped out of the surrounding air, diving into his remains. The bones danced erratically as they succumbed to the power of the spell. Each segment of his skeleton grew slightly in size and density.
A small explosion of black magic obscured our vision until Asha the skeleton stood about two inches taller than before.
I checked his stats.
Minion: Suppressed - Asha.
Health 41/41. Level 3.
Sapient Elva.
Fighting Abilities: Highly proficient.
Memories intact.
Upgrade Available. Consume 471/255 mana and 875 Zorta (YES) or (NO).
I grumbled at the costs for a further upgrade. He was worried he’d get too big, but he had pretty much hit a ceiling unless I decided to live there forever.
Closing my eyes, I connected with my healing magic.
Remake Asha the Minion into Asha the Elva Minion - (YES) - (NO)
I selected yes, this time keeping my eyes shut. I could feel the heat of the spell drawing power through the air. My vision filled with a golden hue.
BOOM!
An explosion above shot a powerful beam down and into Asha. For the most part, the spell was over right after it began. The golden hue faded, and I opened my eyes.
My white-haired friend smiled with a blank stare.
“Right. Asha, unsuppress memories,” I ordered.
He shimmied with a few excessive blinks. When he came to, he instantly glanced down at his hands and feet.
“Only one level?” he asked. I nodded. “May I have a few hours to adjust?”
“Most certainly,” I replied.
Not leaving my seat, I replenished my mana for a pittance. Asha left for his tent, awkward in his initial steps.
I chanted again before connecting to Sprinkles.
Minion: Suppressed - Sprinkles.
Health 1941/1941. Level 1.
Sapient Cyclops.
Fighting Abilities: Mode
rate.
Memories intact.
Upgrade Available. Consume 371/255 mana and 175 Zorta (YES) or (NO). You lack sufficient mana. Total upgrade cost will be 291 Zorta. Confirm (YES) or (NO)
I selected yes.
Yermica eked when the massive bones crashed down, tumbling over our position. “Dammit! He was laying down!”
The sloping terrain sped the clattering bones towards us. I scampered out of the way, hoping Tarla didn’t break her neck… again.
I found my lovely lady running ahead of me and right before a femur could crush me, the bone froze in mid-air. It reverted to the pile, magically being yanked back.
A cloud of gravel dust washed over us.
“Sorry, sorry everyone,” I grumbled, coughing from the air debris. “I expected him to just collapse.”
When the billowing dust vanished, the spell was already completed. I snickered, seeing Sprinkles standing at least ten feet taller. I may have even rubbed my hands together in joy.
I decided to check his stats again.
Minion: Suppressed - Sprinkles.
Health 2554/2554. Level 2.
Sapient Cyclops.
Fighting Abilities: Moderate.
Memories intact.
Upgrade Available. Consume 1455mana. Currently 1/255 mana and 1775 Zorta (YES) or (NO). You lack sufficient mana. Total upgrade cost will be 2975 Zorta. Confirm (YES) or (NO)
While I had the Zorta, I passed for the moment.
“My turn,” Tarla said, laying down.
“Your turn for -” I gasped.
Whoosh!
Her robes burst into flame, her eyes shot open, but her eyeball rolled into the back of her head.
Tarla’s smooth, nude form licked flames, not burning the skin but certainly causing me concern. Six hells, even her hair was on fire.
“Mother of mercy,” I muttered.
The flames extinguished, her eyes blinked like ten times, and then she realized she was nude. I blushed. She grinned and didn’t bother trying to cover her exposed flesh.
Without warning, she ejected a phoenix spell from between her heavy breasts. The red fiery bird shrieked and then squawked, soaring high in a circle over our camp.
Tarla grinned, relishing in the intense power. A moment later, the bird burst in a dazzling explosion and Tarla caught herself as she hit mana exhaustion.
I rushed to my lovely fiery redhead. “Babe, no breaking your neck!” I scolded, and she grinned, kissing my cheek. It was then I realized she didn’t need to be carried. She was already restoring her mana. “Cool spell.”
“Hot, not cool, but yes, being a disciple of Caitlyn has its perks, same with these curves you so relish,” Tarla said, landing a long and hot kiss onto my neck.
She had clearly caught me staring at her smooth skin and lovely figure.
I dragged her into the tent to get dressed. She allowed me to carry her in to undress me. I let her win that round.
CHAPTER 58
Outside Zozo Hold
“Oye, come now, mate. I’m gonna be needin’ more than that,” the orange haired dwarf said.
The slayer, his term, was asking for a thousand Zorta a month with three months up front. I countered with thirty. Clearly, we weren’t on the same page.
Back on Earth, I had read some kick ass books about a man and a dwarven slayer, like a whole bunch of them. This guy, though, he was fry short of a happy meal. There wasn’t a chance in hell was he worth what he was asking with his scrawny frame and nappy beard.
“Next,” I shouted, ending the conversation.
The team behind the slayer carried out a whole assortment of caravan gear. I counted six wagons that were pulled by slow oxen. The interiors were closed with wooden boxing and the wheels extra wide. They would make fantastic transportation buildings but were likely full.
“Name’s Famo. I heard yer hiring,” the dwarf said, sticking his hands on his hips.
Famo and those he represented gave me insight into a different type of dwarf - the mercenary. Each of them wore stained leather, a mix of black and gray. They carried small crossbows on their left hip. Under that, they carried a short sword. Across their backs were shields.
This was a unit. Even their beards were uniform in appearance. Plain steel caps covered their heads, and soft new boots spoke of little use. I gazed at the curious unit who were mostly in awe of being outside. While there were veterans who used Z to look young, these dwarves just seemed like… rookies.
Famo caught my attention. “I run Boom, Snap, and Squish. A siege weapon attachment unit. We… umm… hard to find work under the mountain.”
“Not fer a slayer! Piss off you weaklin’,” the slayer said, storming back toward the dwarven hold only to pause to flirt with an incoming lass atop a trade wagon.
Gronbi shook his head with a smirk. The ambassador and a series of traders were haggling with Tarla, Yermica, and Nee over the new supplies.
“Your rate?” I asked.
“What’s the mission and will you return us like you did our kin?” Famo asked.
I opened my mouth but folded my arms instead. “Honest truth, adventure and glory, and I don’t know. I promise to try to avoid losing fights, and we’re going to use speed as our advantage, meaning your two oxen per wagon will get swapped for four rams and the oxen returned to the hold. I do know this is my most friendly city in the area, so yes, I intend to return.”
“Ya only fighting strivians?” he asked, his two dozen or so dwarves behind him listening intently.
“No, all foes are created equal and give Zorta - as the gods want it,” I said with a sigh. Killing humans was on the table and nothing would change that. “Look, I have some dwarves, gnomes, and goblins eager to learn from you. I’d love to buy your gear and some manuals even if you find my mission too risky.”
“What’s the pay?” he asked.
“I don’t know your worth, but that slayer knew his, and I simply couldn’t afford it,” I said, not commenting that he was an idiot.
“Tiny Timmoh is an idjit.” I snorted when he said this. “There’s twenty tree of us,” he said, gazing back at his team. Yes, he said tree instead of three. I had a feeling the gods would correct his heavy accent soon. “Ten Zorta per soldier each month, three months advance, and I get double.”
“Before I get into a bidding war on your rates, can you build bolt launchers?” I asked.
“Like for slaying giants? Yea, but I only got supplies for the rock lobbers at the moment,” he said, scratching the back of his neck guiltily. “We would need a smithy and spare ore to make ‘em.”
“Ah, I take it you're a new company?” I asked.
The slayer heard this and belted out a fading laugh.
“Rot in yer ale small lad!” Famo shouted.
His unit turned when the slayer paused, and the situation tensed. Gronbi snapped his fingers and pointed to the gate at the top of the hill. Timmoh the slayer grumbled, muttering something that the Ambassador couldn’t hear, then left for good.
Famo cleared his throat. “Aye, we’re new. I retired and took up teachin’. Can’t do, ya teach, or so the sayin’ goes. So, I taught these lads all I knew.”
He tugged on his beard with an unhappy grunt.
“I may have promised employment at the end of my course. There’s eighty more youngins down there who refused to come try fer werk from ya,” Famo admitted.
“What’s in the wagons and where’s your mounts?” I asked, leaning to see around the wagons.
“Standard supplies for six catapults and repairs. We ride atop the boxes. There’s points to add tents or shaders, so no mounts besides the oxen,” he said with a shrug.
“Good. I need you to be able to keep up with our pace. As for fighting, can you mount the catapults to the roof tops and live inside?” I asked.
“We can rig catapults to them dead lizards… maybe,” he said, jostling his head while he mulled it over.
I grinned, offering, “Eight, and fifteen for you.�
��
We settled on nine, but he had to be a full team member. I sent him to Asha who was managing the finances.
I shouted, “Welcome to the team Famo and crew of the Boom, Snap, and Squish.”
That was fun to say, and I couldn’t help but smirk when they cheered at securing a place in our army. I thought these dwarves were missing a bolt or two from their noggins, probably the right kind of beings I needed to have on the team.
Whoosh!
Sprinkles hurled a rock at the griffin in the distance. He missed horribly, but the message was clear - back the hell up.
Mini and the lidka were already a few miles to the east, creating a brand-new road. Prince Tao would be forced with a decision here soon. Attack with his cavalry only or let us continue to gain on him.
A few goblins were sent out to get details on their cavalry numbers. None returned, and I decided to stop losing new recruits.
I headed over to where Tarla and Gronbi negotiated. My lovely lady ignored my arrival. While I desired to pinch her butt, or take over, I passed her by. I could see she wanted the responsibility and the challenge.
I left for Nee who talked with a group of goblin arrivals. These goblins held the forest variation of green with black stripes. The thirty or so of them greedily ate clam stew, eyeing me with awe.
“Ah, here’s the Boss,” Nee said proudly.
“Welcome to the…” I glanced down at Nee for help. She shrugged, and I plopped down beside the goblin. “The Necro Lord’s army. I go by Boss. You’ll be fed, clothed, and expected to work. Any questions?”
“Why are ya a humma?” a young goblin asked.
I opened my mouth and shut it. A mother smacked her child on the back of the head.
“Do we get paid?” an older goblin with wrinkles asked.
She had to be near death.
“Lumpy or any jenix, bring me a kill,” I ordered.
“Who’s Lumpy?” the child asked.
This was probably why I avoided such gatherings.
“Yes, you get paid. How many of my goblins are old?” I asked.