Chapter 19
Unexpected Results
After months of effort and dozens of working failures, Professor Fergus had finally created an exact replica of my dog warrior. It turned out switching from creating undead to creating living dead was not as easy for Fergus to do as I’d assumed it was. The mental gymnastics he needed to perform to change from one discipline to the other, without having the create living dead skill, was too much for him. He was a professional necromancer, but he relied too heavily on his skills to easily adapt without them. It was almost like he had to learn everything from scratch.
Which is why it wasn’t until a few days after Kathrine started talking to me that Fergus succeeded. We didn’t even realise he had, until we run his latest creation through the battery of tests, comparing my project against his, like we had all the others. We were both surprised when there was only a 3% variation between our creations, which was perfectly acceptable replica in this kind of work. In some ways his was slightly better than mine and in other ways it was slightly worse.
After so many working failures, everything was finally exactly as I expected it to be. This, of course, changed when we made our dog warriors fight inside my training hall.
My creation was programmed with a greater understanding of martial arts and combat than his and had quickly dominated his dog warrior which triggered his project to react submissively, something he hadn’t programmed it to do. Mine had immediately stopped attacking when this happened which wasn’t something I had programmed it to do. Verbal instructions to continue fighting hadn’t worked for either of us. The only way to make them attack each other was for us to compel them with magic, overriding their thought processes. However, the moment we stopped forcing them to fight, they stopped fighting.
Neither of us understood what we were seeing, but it happened every time we made them fight, so we decided to take them to Undead Fight Club to gather more data.
Bones rattled as Fergus’s dog warrior slapped aside a skeleton knight with its clawed hand, towered over the sea of undead that was trying to tear it apart like an Egyptian God. An undead spearman darted forward, to stab his distracted dog warrior in the back. My dog warrior leapt over several other undead warriors, dodging several poorly aimed necrotic bolts, and landed on the undead spearman’s shoulders.
The bolts exploded across the barrier as my dog warrior’s weight crushed the undead spearman into the ground, pinning it in place. Several drunk necromancers cheered the destruction of their creations while others booed.
Fergus made a note in his book. “I think we can safely conclude that they don’t have a problem destroying undead.”
I nodded. “The issue is probably related to using dogs to make them.”
“But how?”
Angelica’s undead knight ducked under a claw swipe and delivered a cut to my dog warriors’ forearm, exposing muscle and bone. Her knight then stepped back and allowed the other undead to distract the dog warrior, before darting back in for another strike.
“Perhaps it’s the brain,” I suggested, hoping he would say something to make me come up with a better idea. “I made it larger, hoping to increase their intelligence, but maybe I increased some other instinct which prevents them from killing each other.”
Fergus considered my words. “It can’t be empathy. They’re too aggressive against other undead. It could be a pack orientate survival instinct. They might recognise that they’re the same and that they have a greater chance of surviving together. They could equate killing each other with killing themselves.”
“It’s possible, but unlikely.”
I honestly didn’t know why our creations were reacting this way. Nothing I’d read gave me any hints. Contessa’s work with the living dead mostly revolved around humans and she was by far my largest source of information on the subject.
Fergus scratched his chin. “You have to admit, they’re incredibly robust killing machines for a basic living dead. They’re doing much better than I expected.”
Fergus was right about that. They had a massive size and weight advantage over their opponents, but that wasn’t why they were winning. They were fighting together in a way that supported each other, covering each other to increase their chances of survival. The two of them were fighting the entire Undead Fight Club, so they should have been torn apart by now, but they kept protecting each other from being crippled, which allowed them a chance to regenerate. This sort of behaviour usually required programming and years of focused training, but it seemed instinctual to them.
“They have potential,” I admitted. “But we need to run more tests.”
“I can have another one ready in a few weeks.”
“That won’t be necessary.”
“Rule three, fights don’t end until one side loses.”
I chuckled. “I’m aware of the rules and I don’t need to break them for us to win.”
I put my fingers in my mouth and gave a shrill sharp whistle. The students took control of their undead and made them freeze in place, before turning to me.
“I apologise for cutting everyone’s fun short, but Professor Fergus and I just decided we need to study our creations further before you destroy them. This is your only opportunity to withdrawal from this demonstration fight.”
Angelica rolled her eyes. “This is Undead Fight Club and fights only ends when one side is destroyed.”
Her undead knight took a swing at my dog warrior which triggered the rest of the club to attack. The laughter immediately started back up. I wasn’t upset by her comments. Everyone knew to the rules to Undead Fight Club. But I needed to give the students a way out before I thoroughly destroyed. Otherwise, they’d complain.
I took control of my dog warrior with a basic control undead spell and released the restrictions I’d placed on its programming. It was time for my students to understand exactly how important growing their own combat knowledge was.
In the space of a second, the fight went from being reasonably fair to a one-sided slaughter. Bones went flying as my dog warrior struck down undead, while side stepping blows that would have hit only a few seconds before. It began using its jaw, biting off skulls and crushing the bones between its teeth. It was a vicious and violent battle that was much faster than any of them were prepared for.
Angelica’s knight managed to survive to the end by ducking and weaving around attacks, until a lucky backhanded blow scattered its bones. It wasn’t the most powerful undead but did have the best programming.
I lowered the barrier and walked into the middle of the ring as the bones bounced across the floor. There were a lot of unhappy faces as I looked around and levitated into the air.
“What you just saw is the difference between an undead that has been programmed to utilize its power and fight effectively and an undead that only has a basic understanding of how do so. You can make the most powerful undead imaginable, but if you can’t program it to utilize the power you’ve given it, then it’s no better than a lesser creation. I’m glad to see that many of you have taken steps to correct this weakness by training with commander Gregory’s people. I know how difficult it is for all of you to be around death lords let alone train with them which is why feel it’s time I share some good news with everyone. Would the following people please step into the ring.”
I began listing names.
Seventy-three students passed their drink to a friend and came forward, confused by what was going on. I hadn’t mentioned anything about this, and this wasn’t a normal part of Undead Fight Club. But my students had made a lot of progress, and it was time to show them the results of their hard work.
I remained floating in the air as I looked around the room. “You’ve all been working exceptionally hard, but some of you have been working harder than others. The necromancers standing in the ring have unlocked the boneweaver subclass. Does anyone here know what a subclass is?”
It was a basic question, but they were rich kids, so some of them might not know.
Baris raised his hand from the front of the group. “Subclasses are mainly connected to lower tier crafting classes and require enough understanding of a specialisation to unlock. Subclasses are not considered a class or a class upgrade because the amount of attributes a person receives and skill choices from their original class remain the same. When someone unlocks a subclass, they gain three skills that are related to the specialisation the subclass offers but receive no other benefit or penalty. There is no known downside to taking a subclass.”
“That’s a textbook answer and entirely correct.”
I pulled one of Darksmith’s mobile class stones from my coat pocket. It wasn’t a universal class stone like the adventurer’s guilds used, but it could level every magic-based class, including hero. I tossed it to Baris and watched it tumble through the air. The mobile class stones were for students who wanted to keep their class changes secret, so they worked anywhere in the dungeon. Baris fumbled as he caught it and then immediately went into shock.
The necromancers of Necropolis either didn’t know how to unlock the boneweaver subclass or they didn’t know how to do so safely. Judging by Baris’s reaction, he hadn’t expected to have unlocked a subclass.
I cleared my throat. “A little faster please Baris, there are a lot of people that need to use that class stone.”
He blinked and looked up at me. “I’ve gained access to the boneweaver subclass.”
“I believe I said that. Now please take the subclass and pass the class stone on to the next person. If everyone acts this surprised, we’ll be here all night.”
Baris handed the stone to the next person and turned to me. “Why didn’t you tell us you were helping us unlock a subclass?”
Because I didn’t expect to be here this long, I thought to myself.
“I prefer to teach students who wish to study for their own personal interest rather than students who study for a reward.” I turned in the air to look at the rest of the necromancers. “You’ve all reached the point where gaining this subclass won’t change your reason for being here, only encourage you to study harder. Starting next week, we will spend a month studying zombies and how the undead enhancement techniques you’ve learned for skeletons can be integrated into their creation. If you’re diligent, you’ll unlock the boneweaver subclass. If you’re hyper diligent, you might unlock the corpseweaver subclass as well. These will give you an advantage over your competition, so this next month will separate the amateurs from the professionals. I wish you all the best of luck.”
I used the levitation spell to return to the ground and then walked over to Fergus. He was feeding his dog warrior mana to help it recover faster.
He smirked as I stopped beside him and started feeding mana into my dog warrior. “Why am I not surprised to learn that you know how to safely unlock the boneweaver subclass.”
I watched as the cut to my dog warrior’s thighs pulled back together. “Considering how much I’ve taught them already it would stranger if I didn’t know how to do it.”
He chuckled. “That’s true. What do you want me to do with my working failures?”
“Do whatever you like.”
“What I’d like to do is upgrade them into living dead warriors, but I have no idea how to do that?”
“I’ll give you a guide tomorrow morning.”
“Why not show me how to do it?”
“I would, but figuring out why our creations are acting strangely is taking all of my spare time.”
“Anything I can do to help?”
“Do you know how to make the day longer?”
“Stop drinking.”
I chuckled. “It was a serious question.”
“And that was a serious answer.”
“And if I’ve already stopped drinking?”
“Then I suggest you restart, because anyone who tells you to stop drinking at Darksmith clearly isn’t trying to help you. What’s got you so busy, anyway?”
“I’m crafting master rank undead skeletons.”
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Fergus chuckled. “Fine, you keep your secrets.”
***
It was a well-known fact that casting a master rank spell changed your relationship to magic. It was also a well-known fact that these changes to control and power took place over decades which was why practitioners with equal levels, attributes, and skills were not the same if one of them cast a master rank spell a decade before the other. It was also why practitioners were willing to risk their lives to learn master rank magic, even if they only managed to cast a spell once.
What wasn’t a well-known fact was why these changes occurred. I only knew why they occurred because I’d almost turned myself into soup when I read several books which were stored in a secret vault within a secret vault.
Master rank magic required soul energy.
It was an insignificant amount, something most practitioners would never notice. However, the changes which eventually occurred from casting a master rank spell occurred because that insignificant amount of soul energy was enough to link your soul with your magic. This link allowed your soul to feed off your mana regeneration the way my demonic parasites did. Unlike my parasites, once your soul understood the link wasn’t dangerous, your soul tried to help which eventually resulted in more power and control for spell casting.
My soul’s reaction to casting a master rank spell was no different to anyone else’s, even with all the changes I’d made to it. My demonic parasites’ reaction to casting a master rank spell was a different matter.
The moment I finished casting my first master rank spell, a death bolt, my vampiric instincts told me the next one I cast would be stronger. I immediately cast a second master rank death bolt, which was in fact slightly stronger than the first. Again, my instincts told me the next one would stronger, so I threw another death bolt.
Davina had noticed the increase in power, between the first and second death bolts, and watched is silence as each bolt grew stronger until I ran out of mana. The necrosaint had been in full research mode ever since, trying to understand the phenomena.
It had taken a week of her working with Father and Mother to confirm it was the demonic parasites strengthening my magic. After confirming that the changes were because of the demonic parasites, she wanted to know if these changed only effected death magic or necrotic magic too.
To find this out, she’d taught me the death spell and the destructions spell. They were the most powerful single target death and necrotic spells, but also two of the easiest master rank spells to learn.
The death spell grew stronger.
The destruction spell did not.
From there, Davina taught me how to create a death void, call the dead, claim the dead, raise the dead, dominate the dead, rule the dead, and many other equally creatively name master rank death spells. When it came to death magic, there was very little she didn’t know, and she wanted to confirm that all of these spells grew stronger when I cast them repeatedly, and that they grew stronger in measurably consistent ways.
They did.
When it came to necrotic magic, Davina only knew five master tier spells: Destruction, necrotic bolt, wall of destruction, barrier of destruction, land of destruction.
None of these spell grew stronger.
Davina and Father had concluded that demonic parasites were only capable of strengthening death magic. Their working theory for why this was the case was that the demonic parasites’ ability to strengthen death magic was somehow related to how they could reanimate and strengthened their host. This was plausible because becoming an ancient vampire had given me extremely high attributes. These attributes were in no way related to a class because at the time I hadn’t unlocked one, which meant that they were purely a byproduct of how I’d been reanimated.
Wanting to know if there was a limit to how powerful my spells could grow, Davina turned to Dramyins Skeletal Texts. It contained the master rank versions of the bonemeal, bone stitch, form skeleton, and create undead skeleton spells. The bonemeal and bone stitch spells were spells that I could preform over and over again without feeling like I was wasting time.
That only lasted until I completed my first master rank undead skeleton. Then Davina told me she wanted me to create a second one.
I insisted I needed help.
It was after midnight as I walked into the meditation chamber closest to town carrying a storage chest filled with equipment for making undead. Murdell was a nation of sorcerers and many of their professions required mana, so almost every dungeon had a meditation chamber at the edge of the dungeon zone where sorcerers could go to quickly replace their mana. The one near Darksmith was a massive chamber filled with a thousand small mana concentration circles which increased the ambient mana everyone could absorb.
Gregory was waiting for me and meditating in the concentration circle closest to the entrance. His people were meditating in the concentration circles beside and behind him. All three hundred of them wore identical crimson robes, so it looked like I’d walked into a chamber full of cultists.
Gregory opened his eyes as I approached. “Helen already said we look like cultists, so I don’t need to hear the same from you. Let me make it clear, we’re not giving up a threefold increase to mana regeneration just because the colour of our robe makes people uncomfortable.”
“You know that’s exactly what a cultist would say.”
Several people broke their meditation to chuckled.
“Our robes have never been used in a cult ritual.”
“Only because you killed the cultists that were supposed to deliver them.”
Gregory and Sir Trent had several interesting adventures on their way here, mostly because without me around Angelica kept attracting evil. They’d put down several cults and even banished a few lesser demons.
Gregory rolled his eyes. “We’re ready when you are, Boss.”
The entrance had the largest open area in the meditation chamber which seemed to be why everyone was sitting so close. I put down the storage chest I was holding and removed the undead crafting table I’d taken from Contessa, placing it in the entrance.
“What the hell is that thing?” Gregory hissed.
I rarely saw Greogry flustered anymore, so I decided to pretend like I didn’t know why he was bothered. “It’s an undead crafting table.”
“It’s made out of human skulls.”
“The best ones are.”
“Why do you have an undead crafting table made out of human skulls?”
“Contessa didn’t need it anymore.”
“Are you joking? Does the adventurer’s guild know you have that?”
“I hope not.”
“Please be serious, Boss? That thing looks evil enough for my wife to leave me if I take part in something that requires its use.”
I glanced at him and realised he wasn’t joking. Helen was a cleric so her leaving him might have something to do with an oath she’d made to heaven to gain her powers.
I patted a skull near the edge of the table. “This undead crafting table is made out of necromancers who died peacefully in their sleep without a grudge in their heart. Their skulls have been partially reanimated and programmed to assist in stabilising the enrichment and enhancement of undead materials and the creation of undead creatures. Contessa made sure that this was not an evil or unholy crafting table, because if it was it would have mess with her results. The adventurer’s guild is not happy that I have this, but it’s not evil, so they don’t have a say.”
“Necromancers who died peacefully in their sleep without a grudge in their heart,” Gregory said sceptically.
“That’s Contessa’s way of saying they were murdered in their sleep after they’d killed all their enemies.”
“So, just to be clear, your ‘not evil’ undead crafting table was made by an evil lich, out of skulls of murdered necromancers, who had killed their enemies. I’m not sure if my wife is going to believe that we’re doing good work here, Boss.”
“I used the table to craft Shadow, so Davina will vouch for it.”
“That won’t help.”
“She’s a saint.”
“Half a saint. My wife believes she’s under your influence, which is why she allows you to perform questionable act.”
“It’s just a crafting table.”
“Made from human skulls.”
“They were terrible people.”
“That’s a fine reason to kill then, but not a fine reason to turn them into furniture.”
“Fine I won’t use the crafting table, but if you all die it’s on you.”
Several dozen people turned to glare at Gregory.
He sensed their gazes. “Um, why could we die without crafting table made out of necromancer skulls, Boss?”
“I’m going to be using six master rank spells to form toe bones and other bones just as small. That much death magic concentrated into such a small space can be highly unstable. The undead crafting table you don’t want me to use can detect when these instabilities occurring and also stop these instabilities from occurring. Without the crafting table, I won’t notice the magic in a bone is becoming unstable until there is nothing that I can do to stop the bone from releasing a death wave. Whether or not I can open a portal to the Deadlands fast enough to throw it through will come down to luck.”
The glares intensified.
Gregory sighed. “Just to be clear, you’re not using the crafting table to make this undead skeleton?”
“No, it will slow me down.”
“Fine, I withdraw my objection.”
Gregory seemed honestly conflicted. “You can sit to the side if you want?” I made the offer because it was the right thing to do. Not because I wanted to increase my influence over Gregory, thereby increasing my influence over his men.
“I’m good, Boss.”
I turned to the others. “If this makes any of you uncomfortable you can move to the side.”
No one moved.
A few smelled uncomfortable, but they stayed where they were. They didn’t want to look weak or unwilling to help in front of everyone.
I finished setting up the undead crafting table and then pulled a massive dungeon monster bone out of the storage chest and placed it on top. A few basic spells converted the bone to bonemeal, and another basic spell transformed the bonemeal into a replica of my skeleton. I then swept the excess bonemeal into a bag and threw the bag into the chest.
I turned to everyone and began gently drawing the mana from their cores to replace the mana I’d just used. “You can begin gathering mana.”
They closed their eyes and went back to meditating.
I swept the skeleton into a pile, before casting an overcharged 1st rank bonemeal spell. Months of enriching bonemeal had taught me exactly how much enrichment I could achieve with a single spell. I cast the spell nine times until the bonemeal all shared a consistent quality and texture. Then I moved on to the 2nd rank version of the spell.
What I was doing here was the same as what I’d done to teach the Undead Enhancement Club how to create an undead skeleton. The only difference was that I was using fifteen ranks of spells instead of nine ranks and I was doing more material enhancement before I cast the form skeleton spells. Unlike the expert and below ranks, the master rank versions of the form skeleton spell caused instability. They were too powerful for unenhanced material and would cause the bones to melt.
This was a common issue the necromancers had to deal with when making powerful undead. The more powerful you made an undead, the harder it was to keep the magic that reanimated them stable. Without Dramyins Skeletal Texts, there was no way I would be able to do this. It would have taken me decades to recreate these spells and then decades more to figure out how to use them without my undead exploding.
Even Contessa’s work with the living dead wasn’t on this level and they could breed.
By the time I cast the final master rank form skeleton spell, most of the cores I was drawing from were empty. Forming the skeleton was the only time outside of casting the create undead skeleton spell where I could overcharge the spells. When creating master rank undead skeletons, Dramyin advocated for using the least mana possible when casting the bonemeal and bone stitch spells, because it provided more stability. If you wanted to create a more powerful undead then repeating the enhancement process was advised.
I picked up the left pinkie bone and waited for my core to refill. This bone was the one that had given me the most trouble the first time I created a master rank undead skeleton. It had become unstable more than a dozen times and if Davina hadn’t eaten them, the death waves would have killed everyone at Darksmith.
We’d since worked out why the instability occurred. It was because of Davina. Her constitution consumed some of the death magic that was used to stabilise the spell. This wasn’t an issue for weaker undead, but it was an issue for master rank undead. However, if I could make a master rank undead skeleton with her around, I could make one anywhere.
There was almost no chance of this pinkie bone exploding and killing everyone.
Almost.
…
I turned as I heard the sound of feet dropping to the ground as sorcerer’s landed near the side tunnel entrance to the meditation chamber. They’d be here in less than a minute.
I tossed to pinkie bone onto the table and glanced at Gregory. “You said no one used this place this late at night.”
Gregory opened his eyed and frowned. “They don’t.”
“You can tell that to our guests.”
I carried the undead crafting table to the side of the entrance and turned to see twenty alchemists stepping around the corner grumbling to each other.
The middle-aged man at the front scowled at ground in front of him looking like he wanted to go to bed. “I say we stop complaining and strike. The size of these orders is getting completely out of hand. What does that blasted academy need thirty barrels of basic enchanting solution for? They don’t even teach basic enchanting.”
“At least they gave into our demands for double overtime, Cid,” the woman next to him said, before yawning.
Cid continued to scowl. “I haven’t seen our new baby in nearly a week. Money doesn’t give me back the time I’m missing out on.”
Most of the others were all having similar conversations and not paying attention to their surroundings, but I was still surprised when the man and woman past me with only a brief, “evening.”
Two of the younger alchemists at the back of the group who were more awake than the others had stopped and were staring at the undead crafting table beside me. An older man had also stopped, but he was staring and Gregory’s people.
I watched as the Cid and woman at the front finally spotted Gregory and his people. Their feet froze as their gaze lifted taking in the three hundred silence figures in crimson robes. This caused the others to notice. They all looked around them not sure what to do.
I smirked at Gregory. “These nice people seem to be concerned by the rather incriminating robes that you’re wearing?”
Gregory turned to Cid. “We’re guards, but tonight we’re supplying mana to that necromancer over there. As for the robes, a few months back we killed a group of cultists who were supplying equipment to their cult. The robes triple our mana regeneration which why we’re wearing them.”
All of the alchemists remained frozen.
Cid was the first one to move. He turned and glanced at my undead crafting table. He did a double take and then swallowed. “We don’t want any trouble. Just let us go and we won’t tell anyone what we saw here.”
I turned to the three in the tunnel and motioned for them to pass me. They all swallowed and the younger two meekly walked into the meditation chamber.
The older man stopped beside me and looked at the table. “Is that what I think it is?”
I shook my head. “Probably not.”
He sighed. “Good for a moment I thought it was a Corpse Gate.”
“Oh, it is. Sorry, I didn’t expect anyone around here to know what it was.”
Gregory had stood up and was glaring at me again. “You said it was an undead crafting table.”
“It is. It just happens to be fancy enough crafting table to be called a Corpse Gate.”
Cid turned to the old man next to me. “Are we dead?”
The old man reached into his storage pouch and pulled out a small glass bottle with clear liquid inside. It was filled with holy water, based on the smell and feeling it gave off. He opened the top and flicked it at the leg of the table. The holy water dripped down skulls without any effect.
“The Corpse Gate’s not corrupted, so they’re not performing some evil ritual. We’ll live as long as no one knows it’s here.”
“Why only if no one knows it’s here?” Cid asked.
“That table is worth as much as a Phoenix Furnace. Despite the cultist robes, I think those guards are here to make sure no one kills him and steals it while they supply him with mana.”
Cid swallowed. “Why would he need that much mana?”
“I’m repeatedly casting master rank spells,” I said. “Gregory can explain the rest. I need to work.”
The old man next to me smiled and then walked down the side of the room to an empty mana concentration circle. Several of the older alchemists took this to mean everything was safe and joined him. The less trusting alchemists hounded Gregory with questions while I picked up the pinkie bone that would kill everyone if I failed to enhance the material properly.
It was time to get back to work.