V8: Chapter 14

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Interlude: Celia

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Traces of the vile beast were easy to find.

It knew it was being pursued and was busy trying to make a force that could slow us down.

However, its specialty lay in infiltration, and it was being pursued by seven Champions. Morgan, the Lich Slayer, and her two apprentices were reinforced by Riegert, the Holy Axe. Myself, Mallory, and Christine were with them as we pursued the enemy through the formerly-held Academy lands seized by my people.

So, it abandoned all pretense, fed, and left behind misbegotten husks.

There were many forms of Undead. Skeletons and reanimated corpses were the most common and used even in our armies. However, there were types whose creation was not the mere reutilization of a corpse after the soul passed. There were many that were outlawed for their reprehensibility. For example, the taking apart of corpses to bind together into giant reanimated masses was unseemly and frowned upon, but the Corpse Giants were still used for combat and labor. As unseemly their forms were, they were simply large zombies with more mass and muscle on large frames assembled from bones. The same result could be achieved by a Giant, Ogre, or Troll corpse, and none would complain.

However, some creations of Necromancy were banned completely.

Such as the creation of Ghouls.

Ghouls are not truly dead, and the souls of the deceased have not truly parted, and they are the only form of lesser Undead capable of using magic to enhance their bodies. While they attack, their bodies break apart, their bones shatter, and their minds are filled with rage and hate and hunger. The soul feels it all, unable to control their instincts, while they are simply sources of power for body to summon arcane might and strength. Ghouls are abominable creations, outlawed by the Guardians, and any who create them are put to death for putting trapping a soul in the mortal realm to be torturously used for power.

The creature we pursued was creating them by the dozens through the towns it ravaged for blood and sustenance.

I whispered an apology to my citizen as I had my ancestors rip them from the mortal coil onward into the afterlife.

Morgan gave a low whistle at the sight, as she casually approached with her students flanking her.

“That never gets old to watch. Ripping souls straight out of the body. Terrifying, right? That’s why you always need to always have protections against magic on you. Or, you know, just have so much magic it doesn’t work.” Morgan lectured her students, who both nodded intently at her words, and I buried my desire to order them to be silent. They were here and present to help as guests of my nation. Her weapon was at her side and she purely used knives hidden in her coat to dispatch the Ghouls. Her students both used spears… for today. In every battle, she had them use different weapons. “We found the rest of the villagers. They found shelter in a clearing an hour away from the town with some prebuilt structures there.”

Christine piped up at Morgan’s words.

“Any injured? Do we need to hasten the healers?”

“No. They dealt with any infected by the Ghouls. Very smart people here.” Morgan casually praised the fact that the survivors of the town dispatched their friends and family. It was the correct choice to make in the situation. Ghouls can transfer their madness and imprison the spirit of others within berserk bodies. Only those with sufficient power and protections can repel the effect. A healer with the right skills and education can dispel the magic, or empower a person’s resistance long enough for the effect to not take hold. These people, without access to healers or with the power to repel the effect, had to kill their own townsfolk. “They were lucky. They have a Necromancer with them that was in charge of building the structures they now inhabit. Mind telling us why you’re putting up warehouses hidden in towns just a day or so away our border?”

I didn’t bother to lie.

“To fill with supplies and munitions for either a militia or a marching army away from the long lenses of your scouts.” Morgan only smiles at my admission. Their people stuck to their borders without question. However, many times our border patrols reported that they saw high-flying individuals exuding magic from across the border. They were looking upon us through all methods that they could think of. “Would you rather we have them be out in the open so that your initial attacks can destroy them?”

“Ah, makes sense. Very prudent course of action on your end, Lady Celia.” Morgan’s smile was ever present and she pushed up her glasses. Mallory and Christine bristled at her words, but the two sisters stayed silent. The intonation of her words were sing-song and juvenile, but the words themselves were without reproach. If this became a matter of who said what, if we confronted her, then it would be our complete loss. “It’s a shame that they weren’t full of supplies, yet.”

It was my turn to keep silent.

The implication was clear that she was goading me by insinuating the people here would have survived, if the warehouse was properly stocked and guarded.

Or, perhaps, she was implying that if we simply conceded and bent the knee that the warehouse would not be needed in the first place. Many of these villages lacked adequate protection. How many of our people would be saved if there was an able band of warriors and healers in every town? If there was a military base in this region that could deploy our forces within hours where they were needed? If we had Guardians ready to protect the town sealed in ice within cellars?

But there is much else to do, oaths to keep, and there is a little time and little wealth to spare.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

I took a steadying breath and replied.

“Indeed.” Curtly and simply, I gave my answer to Morgan, who had the gall to pout at the lack of discontent I aimed her way. “Let us sweep through the area for any remaining Ghouls, then reconvene back at camp. If all goes as planned, the creature who did this will have nowhere to run.”

The rest of my honorguard is tightening the noose around the region and soon the creature that did this will be no more.

…

The camp was small, cramped, and barely organized. A far cry from the camps I was used to, which were in the King of Wisdom’s style. However, with the speed of our pursuit and the lack of preparation, it was enough.

“Mallory, see the survivors to safety for the evening, until their town is swept through. Make sure that they are given restitution for our failure in their protection.” Mallory bowed at my command and briskly walked forward to awaiting staff and messengers. The most important part of the camp was the ability to relay information and orders. That portion of the camp, I ensured the quality of. “Christine, get in contact with the rest of my honor guard. I want status on the trap we’ve set.”

Bereft of flying transport, my people could implement our methods of pursuit with greater ease. Familiars roamed the sky and ground. The skeletal remains of game birds and small pests were now scouring the region. The eyes and ears they provided was without reproach. In their multitudes, it mattered now how many were found and killed by our prey. Besides them, we had our few fliers in the air scouring the region from up high, and they were ready to call in long-range attacks from our hives. The anti-air weapon developed to overcome the King of Wisdom’s aerial superiority was proving itself to be a staple weapon in my forces.

“Anything you want me to do, Lady Celia?” Morgan reminded me that she was present with a glib tone accompanying her words. They followed our party on foot, while we rode on our spectral steed. They kept up without even being winded, save for Riegert, who simply told me that even with renewed youth he had little interest in youthful befitting the youth. The Lich Slayer had nary a drop of sweat on her brow and her breathing was even. Both her students were lightly sweating and breathing with some difficulty. “Want a letter sent over to his highness?”

“You may create your report as you wish. If you place any falsehoods, know that I will address them directly to your king.” I ignored her goading words once again and dismounted. My spectral speed disappearing as soon as I disembarked. Two messengers came towards me and bowed before waiting to be addressed. I directed one to Morgan, while addressing the other. “Tighten the noose. Have mages at the ready.”

“My lady.” Tormund made his appearance. A skeletal being wreathed in pitch-black robes covered in false gold and jewels. His reliquary was hidden on his person, close enough that he can control the remains of his body from it and retain independence, but not so easily found. It was in none of the jewels or artifacts on his person, but instead in a false spinal disc encased in near-indestructible Citadel-based material. He can easily feign death with his form destroyed and take flight with the conductive material to another corpse. “The weapon is ready.”

“Very good.” I followed him as he raised his head from a bow. Morgan directed the messenger I gave her to her apprentices and followed me. “You already know, don’t you?”

“You’re too responsible to just go out hunting for pure recreation.” Morgan pointed out simply and gave a nod. We went together towards the largest tent in the camp. The product of months of careful work on my part. The guards stared at Morgan until I gave them the signal. We entered the room’s temperature dropped. It was necessary to maintain the integrity of the flesh. At the center of the large, building-sized tent was a massive circle where a beast put together from the bodies of many others waited to be turned Undead. Based off the torso of a gryphon, it had the grafted head of a dragon and the organs needed to spew flame within it. A tail was added, which was a long and giant snake which spewed poison. The four claws of the creature were replaced with massive hands and wrists of ogres, so that I can more easily carry non-prey. Armor for the amalgamated undead creature waited on the sidelines. “Good hunting, I see.”

“There are many monsters out there still. They’re best made use of.” I touched one end of the ritual while Tormund went to the other. I provided power and he provided technique. The creature twitched for a moment, before its eyes opened and it arose. A great beast born from the parts and pieces of many others. The gaze of the creature’s draconic head turned my way as did the head of the serpent, while wings unfurled to full length and the ogre hands it had as feet gripped the soil instinctively. “They’re for security or the attacking of Champions. They fare quite poorly against pike and shot.”

“Being the size of a barn doesn’t help, yep. Still, with a fair amount of armor, it can be used to perform a charge. Once. Perhaps twice.” Morgan observed the creature with a faint smile, as if amused more than awed. Little could be said to truly make her interested. I was sure that there was only one person who could claim to have such an achievement. “A few hundred wouldn’t be bad to have as heavy cavalry.”

My mood soured and I shot her a glare, earning me a wide, near-inhuman grin from Morgan.

She knew I couldn’t have anything else besides nobility for my heavy cavalry, as such an honored position was reserved for only them.

“Now, don’t glare at me like that. Those are your treatises and your codices. The honor and justice of your people at fault.” Morgan was making her case, as usual, with a smile on her lips and a song in her heart. “Now, if you were with us, we’d love these beasties. We’d layer them thick with armor, pump them up with alchemical reagents, and unleash them upon our foes. A few dozen of these would kill a Champion. Well, an average one, at least.”

“It is through tradition that the Guardians of the Moon have reached this far. From the ashes of complete destruction, the unmaking of the whole planet, we endured thanks to our treatises and codices.” I answered her as I watched the Amalgam heed Tormund’s words and follow the Lich for it to be armored. Still, even as I rebuked her, the images made by her words were painfully clear. These monsters were abundant throughout all the continent. The parts and pieces were easy to acquire. If only I could use them as more than hunting dogs, then my people could have a cheap, disposable asset on the battlefield that functioned as heavy cavalry. “Your people are alive thanks to a miracle. A once-in-a-millennia genius leads you, chosen by a warlord who perished the very night he acquired his Citadel, and who had a faithful lieutenant. The odds that the Descendants received all such things are astronomical.”

“Blaming fortune for poor results, Lady Celia? How unsporting of you.” Morgan tittered, holding her hand up as if to try and conceal her ever-present grin, and I almost scowled at her. I knew what she was doing. She was raising up altercations between us. Moments where feelings flared and memories were made. Her intentions were to make her existence bright and inescapable in my mind. Each moment was a stone to aid whatever lever she devised to try and wring me from my people to the King of Wisdom. “With that logic, aren’t your people lucky, too? That your ancestors made those codices and treaties that led your people to where you are now?”

I could not stop the frown that formed on my lips at her words.

No.

Not at her words.

At the implication that what led us through the ages was equal to the King of Wisdom.

It was the greatest mockery on her part to imply that the ‘fortune’ that we received was equal to—

I forced myself to stop walking, while Morgan just hummed and walked ahead, as I stared at the ground between my own two feet.

When?

When did I start looking upon the works that guided us through the ages since the Ancient’s fall as lesser than Jack?