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CH5: Skeleton Protest

CH5: Skeleton Protest

560th year of the New Republic Summer

Vincent had to face the facts his boots were no good. Blaze Boar leather was supposed to last 30 years if taken care of, but his gave up the ghost at 21. The heel came off his left, and a crack opened the boot’s stitches on his right. His dad bought them for him before they moved to the new republic when people believed they could get along with the monsters that ate men.

He left the trail of his run and leaned against a tree to catch his breath. Sif had the right of it, but werewolves had bigger lung capacities even in their human form. The sun was already down, and they were still a half-day run from town.

“I hope you don’t think you’re done running at little stack.” Sif narrowed her eyes at him, all personal trainer mode. “That limb looks strong chin-ups for the next 5 minutes should help you catch your breath,” Sif said.

Vincent grumbled, but that’s what Sif was here for. If he was too busy doing chin-ups to think about his dead sister or the black knights on their way back to the shack with a warrant. Black knights don’t give a damn about anyone but the people paying them. He planned to become one after he maxed out necromancy.

He jumped and caught the branch overhead. The sharp bark barely scraped his calloused hand. Shoveling dirt for 20 years had its benefits. He pulled himself up and began to slow but steady exercise. Vincent needed to develop those muscles to steal what he needed to survive. Rich families lived in tall city buildings to escape the occasional floods or zombie protests.

As for his plan, he had wanted to be a dark hero, a fusion of martial and arcane might. That wasn’t an option, and there was no way he could get the hero-exclusive perks anymore. Vincent chose a similar route. Once enough classes were taken under higher tier classes, new classes could be unlocked. While most of the classes he wanted were forever out of his reach, he had heard of certain people gaining the hero class later.

He felt a rock bounce off of him. “Faster, you dog,” Sif yelled.

She was definitely taking his training seriously. Unfortunately, he didn’t have the perk buffs martial classes had, or he shouldn’t.

He dropped down after five minutes, and she tossed him a mudfish. It jolted his hands, and he nearly lost it. They had a knack for wiggling through mud instead of water.

“What do you want me to do with it?” Vincent didn’t like the look she gave him. “I’m not a barbarian class,” Vincent said.

“Your protests don’t do you justice. Your Sol Predator perk demands fuel; it's been over six hours; you must be tired.” Sif held her hands behind her back and smiled before sliding a lock of raven hair behind her left ear. “Let me see your commitment.” Four pounds of fish tried to fight him before another jolt went through him.

He brought his teeth to the side of the fish and bit through the rough skin. Vincent tasted mud and then something slimy. Chewing was a chore, and the fish fought harder. When he swallowed, a prompt appeared.

Sol +1

Living Mud Fish Absorbed

Buffs Gained

Health Regeneration x10

Electric Spells learning speed +500%

Mystical gains +500%

Time Remaining 5hr 59min

That was insane thunder mudfish were everywhere; they spawned hundreds of thousands and were difficult to deal with. Eating the thunder mudfish alive had yielded better results. Could Vincent add effects? If so, he had one of the most broken perks of all time. The damage from his earlier magic began to recover slowly. 10 times human regeneration still wasn’t that fast.

An increased point in an attribute was more valuable. Attribute points were difficult to get at the best of times. His gains from running all day and the chin-ups would likely be minimal. Even 5x the normal gains weren’t that high as a human with a necromancer class.

“Increased regeneration, electric spell learning speed, and magic attributes.” She tossed him a hunk of bear jerky. Vincent took a bite, and the hill bear buff returned. “I can have more than one buff active I see three slots on the screen. We need to find two more animals that increase physical gains.” Vincent said.

“No time if you want to register your sister’s corpse as a necromancer,” Sif said.

It was the only way to ensure the black knights couldn’t take her body. Using his preservation spell would help. Once the claim was made, the black knights would be liable for a lawsuit for wrongful seizure. It was his only real weapon against the black knights as a human necromancer unbound to any enclave or union. Fortunately, the union defended necromancer rights vehemently. At the end of the day, the black knights were following the orders of Resnick Camazotz, a disgraced scion of the Camazotz branch families.

If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

Taking a horse wasn’t much of an option with Sif around, and she kept most of the more dangerous predators at bay. They were making great time; riding on her back was the only way to make better. Something she might appreciate but not for transportation purposes.

Stamina regeneration allowed him to keep up with her to little stack town. It was named to honor the stack county governed by Salena Camazotz, the drunk. Rumor had it she slurred her words when naming the county, it was supposed to be Snack, but the scribe heard or felt better naming it Stack. Regardless they were on the poorer side of the county, closer to the no man’s land than other counties. To combat that, Salena had towers erected around the edge of the county facing the border 200 years ago. The project was poorly funded, and the geomancers worked with what they had. Often some stone blocks were well-packed dirt. The town had been sacked multiple times by bandits and the occasional bold paladin battalion. All would-be conquerors seemed to lose interest, and the vampire governor appointed by Salena came skulking back to power.

Instead of risking the streets of the walled town, they camped outside six hours before morning.

Gains developed after sleeping for 6hrs

+5VIT

+2STR

+7CON

+10AGL

+2DEX

+12END

+3ABL

Sif kissed him awake before smothering the coals of their campfire with dirt. Vincent lay stunned with the taste of blood in his mouth from her feeding. She was growing bolder.

He felt his muscles tighten and relax as he adjusted to his new attributes. The numbers were funny; they modified his body, making him stronger and faster, even increasing his potential strength. 10AGL doubled increased a man’s speed by 10%, that was 1% for every point until an attribute reached 50. The percentage doubled at that point, doubling a person’s original speed and granting a random perk linked to the attribute, species, and class of a person. At 100, he would get another perk, and his percentage would increase to 3%, multiplying his original speed by 3x. The next improvement from there was at 500, and he didn’t know the multiplier. His goal wasn’t to have a nice spread; it was to get one stat to 50 quickly; real power came from multipliers. The real kicker was what his attributes didn’t tell him. Vincent’s attributes unlocked a limit on his physical body, mind, and magic could almost infinitely grow, and his attributes multiplied his base. In essence, level wasn’t that much of an indicator when encountering true monsters.

He stood on the hill they had camped on, overlooking the city gate. Zombies with picket signs formed a circle around it, each carrying a sign.

‘We demand higher wages.’ One massive banner read.

That wasn’t entirely abnormal, but he hadn’t been expecting it. “Is that everywhere or just in little stacks?”

The wolf girl smiled. “This is great news the union is trying to flex its muscles on the Camazotz family. Someone must have told them they would make more money in Sobek territory.” Sif said.

Vincent wasn’t much for politics, but even he knew they were barking up the wrong tree. “Do they know there are few necromancers in Sobek territory for a reason?” Sif gave him a confused look. “Laws have been passed that make it impossible for a necromancer to make a profit. Regulations on the corpses, spells used, negative mana footprint tax, etc. Necromancers are forced to make a quota and often need to beg in the street.” Vincent said.

“You don’t know what you are talking about. Sobek is where the strongest werebeasts congregate. They don’t talk about their problems to outsiders.”

They had more werewolves and other werebeasts than anyone and needed a steady food supply. Masses of zombies and skeletons were used for farming to cut down on labor costs to feed the population. Unfortunately, necromancers weren’t trusted because they controlled the food supply. The Sobek family used the regulations and mandates to keep a boot on their necromancers’ necks.

“I only know what old Jim and others have told me.” Gravediggers were the lowest of the low, but they came from all parts of the world. The class was useful because it ensured the bodies absorbed the natural mana in the land to be raised later. The gravedigger profession was being opted out; only some old regulations protected it from being replaced with undead automation. “We should hurry and get past the mob before more show up.”

“We aren’t done talking,” Sif said.

The undead started throwing manure at the city gate in protest. More undead were filing in from various palanquin tomb vaults. Massive undead the size of trolls carried the heavily enchanted undead storage devices frozen like statues.

“Do you know how many gold skulls those are worth?” Vincent asked.

“The enchanter’s union only allows the commission of 10 per year to keep the prices high and limit the armies of necromancers.” Sif glared at him. “Take it back.”

“No, Sobek land is a horrible place for mages,” Vincent said.

Sif growled, and her eyes glowed yellow. The wolf girl quickly tossed her clothes off, and he covered his eyes only to peek through his fingers. Her muscles bristled, and black fur grew across her body. Vincent watched her body twist until the teen girl next door turned into a 9ft behemoth of taut muscle. Like a bow ready to fire, she flexed her claws and showed her fangs. She might as well have stood on her toes for an extra inch for all the good it did her.

Vincent held up her soaked black panties. “I didn’t think you got off on power trips.” Normally smack talking a werewolf was a stupid idea. They had a short fuse at the best of times, but the full moon was coming, and that was when they were extra rowdy. “Do you have a fetish? Should I find some whips and chains, or will my belt do we are on a budget?”

She growled, then narrowed her eyes before huffing. The girl was too expressive for her own good. Even with his poor human eyes, he wasn’t blind. He wasn’t led here by her because she wanted to help him save his sister’s corpse. Sif was a wolf, and they were crafty at the best of times. Her motif this time was simple.

His furry friend pointed a clawed digit at him. “That isn’t funny.”

Sif was a thoroughbred werewolf. That meant she came from a line of born werewolves back in antiquity. With such a bloodline, even the princes of Sobek would find her fine breeding stock. Her father most likely wanted to trade her for favors from the powerful clans in the Sobek family lands. If he gave into his urges and fucked her, he had better be ready to fight a clan of powerful werewolves with multiple martial classes at lvl100. Her father had 3 martial classes and two utility and was rumored to be at lvl695. But compared to the real monsters in the world, he was fodder. To establish himself as someone worthy of Sif, he needed something like the hero, emperor, or dark lord class. That bat was out the cave and eating townspeople.

Sif lvl190

Werewolf lvl95

Black Berserker lvl95

Physically stopping her was out of the question, but there was more than one way to dig a grave. Women were women, and Sif’s weakness was obvious because there were werebeasts in the village that would know her scent.

Vincent raised an eyebrow before sliding the panties over his head until the part covering her lady bits hid his features. “Shall I go on a robbing spree like this? Everyone will remember me, but no one would look at my eyes or hair.” Sif raised her massive paws, each wider than his chest, to cover her eyes. “Maybe I should introduce myself as a necromancer dressed like this.”

“Please, I will get you to the registration building, but please give me back my panties,” Sif said.

“A shame I really wanted to keep them,” Vincent said.

Sif returned to her human form in a huff. “Running away to Sobek wouldn’t work no matter how much you want to. I’m not opposed to running away, but only if it helps us.” He made sure to use us to keep from alienating her. Sif made a great shield if wielded properly, and he liked her.