"When I was still alive, I did research on the pre-system era and devised a theory on the purity of mana and its effects on the existing population, but I could never find enough evidence to support my claim, until you, that is."
"Purity of mana? From what I read, the density is ten times higher now than it was then. What did you find out?" Bones inquired.
"Yes, density is higher, but not the purity. I believe the purity of mana was much higher back then, and I think you are the proof of that. You were what? Two hundred and thirty when you died?" Hugo questioned.
"Yes."
"Then I ask you, Bones, how was that possible? The average lifespan of first tiers is around a hundred and twenty, second tiers can push it to three hundred, while third tiers go above five hundred, depending on their class and the level of their race. So how come you, a first-tier equivalent, managed to live over two hundred?" Hugo challenged.
Bones was stumped, never having considered it. "I'm going out on a limb here and take a wild guess it has something to do with the purity of mana."
Hugo snorted and confirmed it was precisely because of the pure mana particles that Bones lived that long. "Think about it, you breathed, meditated, and absorbed pure arcane energy your whole life. Your body was tempered by pure mana, without all the impurities we have today."
“It didn't feel like it. Why couldn't I do more with my mana then? My mastery of the arcane was subpar, which is why I was forced to learn how to wield weapons."
"Well, I'd say it was because you lacked the talent," Hugo stated bluntly, then posed a question. "But tell me, was it easier to cast spells then than it is now?"
Bones delved into deep thought. After a while, he admitted, "It felt easier to form spells then."
Hugo jumped to his feet and exclaimed, "I knew it! The density was much lower then, but the purity was much higher! You could draw sufficient raw mana necessary to cast the spell directly from surrounding mana. Today, there are many different affinity particles mixed, which makes forming arcane spells harder. On the other hand, other types of magic are easier to cast!"
“Well, congratulations on the discovery. Do you plan to publish that paper after all?” Bones inquired. Hugo casually waved him off, a wistful smile playing on his lips. He explained that over two hundred years had passed since then, and he wasn't exactly in a position to return to the institute."I'm content satisfying my own curiosity. Now, how about we pick up our discussion from where we left off before the brief rest?"
“Sure, what do you have for me today?” Bones leaned forward, an eager anticipation lingering in his skeletal features.
“How about I enlighten you on the nuances that distinguish other races from the undead as we make our way toward the citadel?” Hugo suggested. In response, Bones sprang to his feet, urging Hugo to quicken his pace.
As they traversed the streets of the city, the citadel looming in the distance like an enigmatic guardian, Hugo delved into intricate details. Giants, he explained, possessed unparalleled physical might among all races. Elves, especially the high ones, flaunted a harmonious distribution of attributes and reaped the highest bounty of attribute points per level. The elven lineage, influenced by the whims of the system, diverged into dark elves, rune elves, and the famed blood elves, known to mortals as vampires.
Dwarves, with their innate affinity for constitution and vitality, stood as bastions of endurance. Meanwhile, humans, considered the most adaptable, displayed a unique versatility, capable of mastering skills across a spectrum, even those of conflicting elements.
Hugo elaborated on the inherent constraints binding the undead. Their exposure to chaos mana and dark affinity rendered them susceptible to the destructive force of fire, albeit boasting a resilient resistance against the biting chill of cold and the crackling energy of lightning. "Be particularly vigilant of light magic," Hugo emphasized, his words carrying the weight of caution. "It's the complete antithesis of dark magic, and regrettably, we stand defenseless against its radiant onslaught."
Upon reaching the square, Bones beheld a mesmerizing sight - a multitude of undead converging in front of the bridge that spanned the deep moat surrounding the citadel. Bones, ever curious, asked if it were possible to draw nearer and peer down into the depths below. However, Hugo's response was a resolute caution. "Venturing any closer poses a perilous risk. Should you inadvertently plummet, your physical form would disintegrate, and your essence would be inexorably drawn into the Well of Souls within the spire. This is as far as our journey takes us for now.”
Bones cast his gaze toward the citadel, its dark walls reflecting the eerie miasma enveloping it. Turning to Hugo, he couldn't shake the curiosity about the pillar of light he had witnessed the day before.
Hugo's response unraveled the mysterious spectacle. "What you saw was a beacon the master uses to lure the undead into the miasma below when he needs to replenish the souls in the Well of Souls for his experiments."
"Well of Soul? Experiments?" A tinge of dread tinged Bones' inquiry.
"He's using souls to create minions. The majority of the undead in the city were crafted by him," Hugo revealed.
The revelation left Bones in a state of awe, tempered with disbelief. "There must be at least a few thousand of them!"
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Hugo corrected him with an even more staggering number. "Close to ten thousand active ones! The rest are in deep slumber."
"The rest? Just how many undead are in the city?" Bones questioned, trying to fathom the extent of the undead population.
Hugo hesitated momentarily before providing an estimate that sent shivers down Bones' spine. "Over a hundred thousand, created over a span of over four thousand years."
The sheer magnitude of the undead army astounded Bones, prompting him to question if they were all under Vyrus's command. Hugo, though initially incredulous himself, explained that Vyrus wasn't a summoner; he created minions, marking them with his brand and as an ascendant, his superior power allowed him to control such an extensive legion.
Hugo's gaze shifted upward, where a lone figure observed them from the pinnacle of the spire. "There were many failures," Hugo admitted. "And Vyrus still hasn't managed to create an ascendant-tier minion - not that he hasn't tried."
“Do you mind waiting for me in the tavern? I have something to discuss with the master and I’ll meet you there as soon as possible.” Hugo suddenly requested. Bones replied he didn’t mind but voiced concerns about meeting Al’em alone. Hugo assured him that he would be safe in the Necropolis.
After Bones left, Hugo turned toward the imposing gates of the citadel. The crowded undead instinctively parted ways, allowing him to pass through undisturbed. As he crossed the bridge, the massive gates opened, granting him entry into the heart of the necromantic stronghold.
Inside the citadel, an oppressive atmosphere greeted Hugo, thick with the unmistakable scent of decay. The dimly lit chambers housed an array of macabre contraptions – elaborate apparatuses, twisted alchemical devices, and arcane circles adorned the halls. Each creation was meticulously designed for experiments aimed at delving into the mysteries of necromancy and crafting more powerful minions. The undead denizens within moved with eerie purpose, diligently carrying out Vyrus's dark designs.
In the heart of the towering structure, stretching from the base to the pinnacle of the spire, lay the Well of Souls. This mystical pit seemed bottomless, a spiraling vortex of souls in constant motion. The ethereal essence of countless departed beings formed a mesmerizing pattern as it ascended, providing the life force for the Plaguemaster's necromantic endeavors.
Shadows danced on the cold stone walls, and the air reverberated with the whispers of souls caught in an eternal dance of ascension. Hugo, accustomed to the haunting spectacle, looked up at the spire and noticed a figure rapidly descending. Just before reaching the ground, the figure slowed to a graceful stop, then gently landed before Hugo.
Hugo slightly bowed, acknowledging the presence of his master, and then spoke, “You’ve been watching.”
Vyrus turned, his spectral form gliding as he started walking toward one of the tables adorned with research data. Hugo followed respectfully from behind.
“You haven’t introduced me to your friend. Who is he?” Vyrus inquired, his voice hollow and echoing like a loud whisper.
“I believe you already know. I was hoping to delay your interference a bit longer, to let Bones settle in comfortably first,” Hugo replied, his tone carrying a note of inquiry.
“I couldn’t stay still. I sensed his soul the moment he entered the city. Such a delicious soul - I wish to devour it!” Vyrus declared.
“And then what? You've been amassing the undead army for how long? How much longer, master?” Hugo disapproved, shaking his head.
“You know this can’t go on. Zlogrog is who knows where, battling who knows what. What I do know is he isn’t fighting demons, and we lost contact with the others in the Living Realm.”
“Zlogrog will be here when it’s time, and I’ll send for the others!”
“Who are you going to send, reapers? You can’t leave yourself - are you planning to use an avatar again? You’ll be noticed and hunted down in no time!” Hugo voiced his concerns.
“Then, you think Bones is the one we need?” Vyrus asked while shuffling through the papers in his hands, picking one out, crumpling it, and tossing it aside.
“He is the perfect specimen, master! You know it better than I do, and with our help, our guidance, we could make a formidable ally in the upcoming war!” Hugo argued.
“Such a shame, a soul as old as mine… do as you wish.” Vyrus commented, and his form disintegrated, reforming out of darkness tens of meters away.
Hugo pondered on his master's words for a moment, then turned to leave, heading to meet with Bones in the tavern.
The meeting with his master lasted only an hour, and Hugo quickly returned to Bones. He found him in a trance-like state, sitting at the table where they had previously sat, with an empty cocktail glass in front of him. Hugo exhaled and took a seat across from Bones. Summoning a small notebook, he started jotting things down, leaving Bones undisturbed. After two hours, Bones snapped out of his reverie.
“Want another one?” Hugo teased, referring to the cocktail.
“What happened? What did I drink?” Bones questioned.
"It's called a 'remedy for the soul' because it causes hallucinations, strong enough to affect the undead."
“Hallucinations? I don’t remember anything.” Bones muttered.
"It's like that until you get used to it. But I have to warn you, it's a highly addictive concoction. The undead drink it to help fill the void left by fusion with the soul fragment. I told you before, we all have something missing inside us, some more than others."
“I think one is enough for me. How did your meeting with the master go?” Bones said, pushing an empty glass away from him.
"We've reached an agreement!" Hugo said, then adopted a more serious expression. "Bones, I wanted to delay the information I’m about to tell you until later, but we might have less time than I thought if we want to cover everything!"
“Go on," Bones said, curious about what had made Hugo so serious.
"I'd like to start with a bit of a history lesson. It won’t take long, but it's important you understand how the undead appeared in this world," Hugo explained apologetically. Bones expressed eagerness to learn, and Hugo thanked him for his patience before beginning.
"Before Necropolis and even before the Nether Realm, this side of the world resembled the living realm. The change in the landscape, the perpetual dusk, and the otherworldly presence you have witnessed in the last few days were brought by the demons invading around four thousand five hundred years ago. The demons opened a portal from their side, the Hell Realm, and dispatched a small division of demons accompanied by their servants and prisoners - the undead."
"The portal wasn't expansive or stable enough to allow stronger demons to pass, so they sent second-tier and numerous first-tier lesser demons. Their goal was to terraform the landscape, making it more habitable for their kind. To achieve this, they brought Chaos Obelisks, pillars made of indestructible material with the primary function to filter and convert raw mana into chaos mana and spread it below ground, corrupting everything it touched."