Evelyn shivered, ducking out the back as evening chill and drizzle soaked through her cloak once again. It really was a miserable night, she mused to herself, but at least the pervasive damp hid any suspicious smells or leakage from the heavy sack slung over her shoulder. With a quick glance up and down the street and hefting the sack to a less uncomfortable position, she set off down the cobbles at a brisk pace, satisfied her watchers had been left at the front of the gambling den.

The new Lord was much too cautious not to have her watched, although she was a little offended that he thought those kids were up to the job. Gods, that made her feel old, but honestly while they were probably about half of her 38 years, they were novices at best and she was fairly sure one of the pair this evening hadn’t even earned a true [guard] class yet. More likely he was still a [brawler] or some such. As she hurried through the dimly lit, nearly abandoned streets and glanced at the crumbling stone facades of the houses, she supposed the whole city was still rebuilding. Depressingly, it was doing better than most. No, even if she found the watchers irritating, the local Lord was competent. Even his most inept guards would question what she could have gotten to fill a sack this size in a gambling den, and that would be… troublesome.

She splashed through a puddle on the corner of the street, stumbling a little on the cobbles in the dim light. Evelyn cursed softly as the icy liquid seeped into her already damp stocking but hefting the sack back to a less uncomfortable position on her shoulder, hurried on past the gangly [gangster] lookout before he took an interest. After all she was leaving gang territory. As the thin line of embedded mana crystals at the edge of the poor district became visible on the ground and the sudden terminus of dilapidated buildings showed, she was leaving the city as well.

It always felt odd there was no sensation as she walked through the fine line keeping civilization safe from the dangers of nature, although as a human without even a mana crystal core, intellectually she knew it would be stranger if she did feel something. The return trip might be more interesting. Evelyn thought it unlikely it would deem her a monster after her actions this evening, but… no she couldn’t focus on that now. Follow the plan, one step at a time.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

Shaking away those thoughts for later, she rushed on through the grass towards the cover of the trees. Not that she thought it was likely a guard or ranger would be in this area, instead they left it to the gangs who shouldn’t yet want her apprehended if all went to plan. Sure enough, she vanished into the trees. Though paranoia tickled at the edge of her thoughts that the faint percussion of raindrops could mask the sound of a tail, she breathed a sigh of relief as she could pass off her heavy load. While she was high enough level to manage it, physical stats weren’t where her strength lay. Rotating her shoulder to get a bit of feeling back into it, a bolt of grey light shot from her other hand towards the ground and a skeletal form burst forth. Yes, she much preferred to lean on her magical might, as the skeleton obediently picked up the sack for her. [Conjure Skeleton] was a bit more mana intensive than she’d like but it was manageable, and while animating an existing set of bones was less strenuous, people tended to grow concerned if they went missing.

A short while later she and her skeletal companion reached the cave she’d scouted out weeks before. Some of the creatures of the forest had attempted to halt their progress, but this close to the wards nothing was a danger to a [journeyman necromancer] on the cusp of mastery. With a snap of her fingers the skeleton dropped the sack and clattered to the ground in a pile of bones. Untying the sack, she was relieved to see the [loanshark] still slowly bleeding out, his moment of death extended by her undeath magic. Not wasting any more time seeing his grey pallor, she drew out the bottle of pig's blood obtained earlier that day from Horace. Truly, a butcher who is disinclined to pry is worth their weight in bonemeal to a discerning [necromancer]. Focusing, her finger dipped in and out of the blood to sketch symbols memorised over months across the cold ground around the man held between life and death. Her eyes darted across them even as she prepared the final item which would become her phylactery, a huge mana gem, almost twice the size of her closed fist. She wished she had the time to do a more thorough check of the runes once more, but even her magic could only do so much to prolong the moment of transition. No, her preparations would have to be enough. Taking a deep breath, she pressed the crystal above the heart of the greasy man as she concentrated on pulling back the spell keeping him suspended in that crucial moment, drawing the mana resonating with undeath into the empty crystal.

This was the delicate moment. Her dreams of lichdom hung in the balance. The mana started to flow into the crystal and the wound in his side started seeping blood more and more quickly. Then spurting. She felt a rush as his life faded. A burst of energy flowed into the crystal as he died. Exactly as she hoped. A notification appeared… but it was wrong! How could it be wrong she was so careful! Then the world went white…