Hungry Necromancer

Chapter 190: Prep For War; Speculative Truth (P2)

The filthy, wretched looking tavern owner gives in to my demand before I can even introduce myself as his worst nightmare or something along those lines.

He stumbles up to his feet, the stench of liquor rising him. However, he promptly falls back down on his ass, either from suddenly jumping to his feet or the fact that he recognizes the short man beside me as the Mayor.

Alric does nothing but stare and I take another step forward.

"Ah! Alright, they're downstairs! Downstairs in the basement with all the barrels and empty seed bags!" He yelps, an unnecessary thing which I'm sure has cost me the element of surprise.

I grunt past him and pull up a ritual, another one I've been gifted from my zombified hunger walk from not too long ago.

As far as I see it, it's the perfect ritual for controlling someone who doesn't manipulate mana, people exactly like Red and Quen.

Hopping down the set of water-logged stairs I find myself striding into a basement room with barely any visibility aside from the lone candle at the back, a candle that illuminates the rather prepared two.

I take their looks in but don't bother to stop moving, this ritual requires physical touch after all.

"Stop right there!" Red screams, her jarringly large dagger out and glistening in the dim orange light that's sparsely spread through the mold ridden room.

If I weren't so irritated at the sight of her and the sound of her devilish little voice, I would have stopped to give a round of applause for her mindless bravery.

She stands in front of Quen who has his bow and arrow draw and ready to take a shot, but she's still injured, covered in badly made bandages. I suppose Quen isn't much of a medic.

Rather than heed her request, my eyes burst with green flames of mana and I begin to chant so abruptly is causes the two to instinctively take step back

"Breikam Sukou! Breikam Sukou! Breikam Sukou!"

I repeat the chant three times in hurried succession, making a dash for the two now with my hands and eyes burning with green flames.

Quen comes to his senses and get's set to lose an arrow on me but I've been far too prepared for that nonsense to work.

Shaco comes out of the shadows a small viper and in a flash of an instant morphs into the large and constricting python.

"Ack-!" Quen yelps, his bow clattering to the ground as he suddenly finds himself completely immobilized.

Red isn't out of the picture however, with me in her personal space she swipes at back at me with the strength unbecoming of an injured person.

"Get back!"

I dodge and frown, the flames of this curse were beginning to burn. I don't have time for this. 

In the moment she lifts her arm to stab at Shaco, I launch myself at her torso, tackling her to the ground and instantly getting a stab wound for my troubles.

Ignoring the blast of pain in my back side I straddle her; it helps that the wounds I gave her earlier have yet to fully heal. Unfortunately, her arms are still free to punch and slap at me thankfully no slicing as she's deposited her dagger into my back.

"Stay still!" Pushing past the pointless slaps I shove my hand onto her face, lift her head and slam it back down into the hard ground, "Sukou!"

The burning flames leave my left hand at speed, rushing into Red through every crevasse on her face; eyes, nose, mouth, ears.

She gasps, eyes wide and now bleeding. I don't pay much attention to her reaction as Quens body suddenly falls to the ground beside her and I.

"Perfect." I mutter and slam my right flaming hand onto his face, "Sukou!" The flames rush into him as well, eliciting a gasp and a violent quivering reaction.

Letting out a sigh I get off of Red's immobile body and before I eve get to stand upright; I'm struck with a huge riff of vertigo and fall.

"Got you!" I hear Anselm exclaim. He looks down at me, a frown marring his face, "You're really trying to die, aren't you?"

His smile turns upside down before I can reply and with a swift, merciless yank he plucks Red's dagger out of my back.

"Agh! You fool, I'm going to bleed to death- OOoo That's cold." 

Anselm simple places his palm against the wound and freezes it shut. "You're welcome." He chirps, "Mind telling me what I just witnessed though?"

I let myself drop on my ass with a tired sigh, "You could have warned me."

He doesn't answer, staring intently at me before letting his eyes glance at the silent, unconscious duo.

"Right. I placed a curse on them."

He narrows his eyes, "You say that like it explains everything. What curse? Why are you cursing people?"

Shaco slithers over to me, a hulking mass of a giant serpent. He hisses at Anselm and lets me rest on his body.

"I promised I would. My spells are becoming more of rituals now, and the powerful ones usually need some kind of live humanoid being or justsomething alive. You'd think the dead would suffice for Necromancy."

"The cursewell, it's a bit of necrotic fire that burns at even me when I hold it for too long it seems." I wince at my wrinkling hands. Nothing a quick drain from either Quen or the man upstairs can't fix.

Wait. I shouldn't be so used to this. I bite my cheek and resolve to have the necrotic damage healed only when I get into a fight.

"And you put it in them!?"

"Oh, don't worry, I don't want them dead. If I did, I wouldn't have gotten myself stabbed now would I."

"So, what exactly do you want, Asher the Necromage?" It's Alric that speaks now, in the chaos I'd completely forgotten that he'd been around.

I let myself grin, tired and bloodshot as I am, "I just want an obedient army, Alric, and that starts" I point at the two, "With obedient commanders."

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