82. The Old Grasshopper and my principles

I was sitting in Ray’s room, next to Rainbows, my eyes fastened on my best friend.

He was trying to activate his power. Around two hours had passed since he had sat down there. But I was sure he would succeed.

In the end, Ray sighed and opened his eyes.

“It’s useless. I definitely understand dark energy better than before, yet I can’t seem to activate my power at will.”

He looked strangely relieved. I frowned.

“Are you really trying?”

He glared at me.

“I am.”

“Okay, okay, relax, I believe you. Let’s call it a day.”

Ray pointed his chin at his cell phone, which I was holding.

“Did you read it?”

I looked down at the phone and the text of Iracheh Smith, Dark Manual For Dummies. Ray had not forgotten our conversation this afternoon nor my curiosity to learn a bit more about the undead, and he had given me this short manual to read. I smiled.

“About that, that text is wonderfully clear, Ray, thanks! I haven’t finished it yet, but I’ve learned a lot!”

“For instance?”

“Er… Like, about the different categories of undead.” I raised one finger. “First, the way they are reincarnated will make them ghouls, wraiths, or life reapers. I didn’t get everything in the definitions but… anyway, during their evolution, either they turn into a Fury or they don’t. If they do… er…” I looked at the text where I had left it and read: “‘Their white-energy soul will blend with their dark-energy core.’ No way!” I gasped. I hadn’t read that part yet. I continued: “‘As a matter of fact, a Fury is one of the few creatures that have a gray soul in this world!’ Seriously?!” I continued out loud, engrossed: “‘What does that mean? It means their soul is not enclosed by the core anymore but has merged with it. Such a core is sturdier and cannot scatter. It cannot be removed from the body and transferred to another one.’ Does that mean I cannot be transferred into the body of an eagle? Such a pity,” I commented and went on, “‘However, on the other hand, it will transform lifeforce into deathforce way faster than that of a normal undead.’ Cool. ‘Besides, it will develop some kind of strong instincts, which is a double-edged sword: Furies are harder to control, even after their worst phases. They tend to be more rebellious than other undeads.’ …” I glanced at Ray, then agitated one hand like a rapper and sang: “I’m the Decibel Rebel! Hear me, Ray, I won’t obey; won’t comply just ’cause I died; no more orders, no more masters: banzai!”

A glint of hope shone in Ray’s eyes. Wait, what? What was he so happy about? He cleared his throat.

“Nice improvisation.”

“Right? I should become a rapper violinist,” I grinned, then I returned to the text, “So, I’m a deathforce super transformer Fury with a gray soul and a rebellious spirit. What else?” I kept reading. “‘You will say, ‘oh, but I am not sure I can handle that! Can I turn my Fury into a normal undead?’ You can’t! Undeads that become Furies will always be Furies no matter what. Once a soul merges with the core, it cannot be undone. But it is also what makes necromancy such a beautiful art: undeads are not robots, they are beings we brought to life, they are our precious children.’” Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Ray twitch. I continued: “‘We have to do our part of the job and take care of them the best we can, not until they grow up, but UNTIL YOU DIE. And that can happen earlier than you expect. If you’re reading this book and you’re already dealing with a Fury, then maybe that means you didn’t take things seriously enough. If that’s the case, as I said in the introduction, you should go ask for help right away or call the emergency telephone number. Why? Because, while evolving, Furies can kill their m—’”

Growing restless, Ray hurriedly took the phone back and let out with a growl:

“Damn it to hell. That wasn’t the one. I mean, it was the right manual, but I didn’t remember that part—”

I was frozen to the spot.

Furies could kill their masters.

Well, it wasn’t something new. Ray had already warned me about it. I shook my head and took the phone back.

“I want to read it all.”

“Now that I remember, it’s a super biased manual. Like, it’s as if my dad had written it in his youth.”

I rolled my eyes.

“Every book is biased, every person is. It’s still instructive, so I’m gonna finish it. And don’t worry, Ray, if I try to kill you…” Under his troubled expression, I pondered, my head began to overwork, then I just said: “If I kill you, I will die, too.”

We stared at each other. Ray’s lips went up. He stood up replying:

“That’s too obvious to be even worth mentioning. Well, I’m going to sleep. Could you wake me up when Natasha comes?”

“No prob. Good night, Ray.”

“Good night.”

As he covered himself with a blanket, I thought of switching off the light, then remembered he was still afraid of the dark, and I just sat against a wall. My eyes turned to the cell phone… then to Rainbows as the cat climbed on my lap and stared at the screen. I raised an eyebrow and whispered:

“You don’t know how to read, Rainbows, do you?”

The cat looked up to me, fell backwards, and ensconced herself shamelessly against my chest, then looked back at the screen with all seriousness. She knew it was Ray’s phone, and she also probably knew Ray wanted me to learn things through it, so she had decided to imitate my actions. I rolled my eyes and kept reading.

After the paragraph about Furies, Iracheh Smith talked about the general transformation all undeads underwent to become adults. There were four different ways to evolve depending on the nature of the necro-bond at the time of the transformation. There were even different names for each class: Guardians, Servants, Wolves, and Daevas.

Guardians were the most common type; they had one necro-bond tying them to only one master.

Servants had two masters or more and one necro-bond for each of them. Necromancers that created them did so usually to protect their whole family and to pass on some of their familiars to their children instead of having them die with them. I bet the Lord would have loved to gift a Servant to his son. As a matter of fact, hadn’t he tried to do so with me to spy on Ray?

Wolves were attached not only to their master but also to other familiars of their “pack”. I couldn’t help but glance at Rainbows, wondering what it would be like to be linked to the cat. Would I be able to understand her thoughts?

The last and least common class, Daevas, had two necro-bonds with one unique master—according to Iracheh, an undead could become a Daeva only if it shared, in its body, a crystal composition similar to its master’s.

«Once the undead had grown and advanced to one of those classes, it is almost impossible to change it,» I read.

To think there could be such a variety of bonds… It was confusing. I wondered what Arkill’s class was. And what about Louise and Uncle Adrian? Guardians, maybe? Or were they Wolves? As for Natasha… Well, who knows.

I shook my head, and Rainbows followed suit. I couldn’t help but smile at her.

“Did you learn something interesting?”

The cat stared at me, then pawed the phone, scrolling through the text.

“Oi, I haven’t finished y—The hell?” I whispered as a completely different book opened. The Magic World Of Necromancy, vol 4: How To Create A Core From Scratch. Nine hundred sixty-eight pages. I swallowed, scrolled down through the introduction, stumbled upon formulas and blueprints, and averted my eyes as if they were going to catch fire. Rainbows sent me a quizzical look, most surely asking back, “Did you learn something interesting?” Ha, what a humorous cat… I glanced at the clock before turning the phone off. “Enough of studying. There are still two hours until Natasha comes. Let’s rest, Rainbows. Our master says undeads need to rest, too.”

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

The cat let out something like a cackle, left my lap, and jumped onto the ledge of the window, raising her tail like a queen. Silence fell. No sound could be heard aside from Ray’s breathing. His lifeforce was swirling in the room. Was it me or was I actually able to see it? Like thin, white mist floating and ascending with the air…

I don’t know for how much time I sat there without breathing, mesmerized by the mist, when I heard a knock followed by a loud hissing. Startled, I turned to see Rainbows bolt from the window into the room. I caught her on the fly and squinted at the window as she clutched at me, all claws out. The knock had come from there, not the door, which was so thick that I wouldn’t have been able to hear anything through it.

I glimpsed a figure behind the glass panes. Who the hell…?

Hurrying to the window, I opened it wide and whispered in dismay:

“Grandma?! I’m so sorry! You should have just used the door—it’s not locked—I mean, I wanted to wait for you outside, but then I lost track of time and—Anyway, how on earth did you climb—Holy Crystals, you’re flying!” I exclaimed.

“I’m not.”

The girl in purple clothes was standing on the air, about ten meters from the flying wing’s ground, and no less than a hundred meters from the academy’s ground. I looked at her, amazed. She wasn’t flying, she said?

“You are.”

“No. I’m standing on a staircase. That’s my power.”

“A staircase, you say? Really? I can’t see it.”

“Want to check?”

“Oh, can I?”

Jumping from the window, with Rainbows in one arm, I landed on the invisible stairs. I heard no sound. It felt so strange… Natasha paused for a moment, then a glint of amusement flickered in her eyes.

“Well, that’s some trust you’ve got, kid. What if I was lying?”

I froze then grinned.

“Well, you weren’t. Hahaha… It feels so weird to be standing on air! Guess it’s even weirder for us undeads because we can’t feel the ground. How does it work?”

“Don’t move, or you’ll fall.” She grabbed my wrist. Was she worried about me? Rainbows had calmed down and was staying still, looking around without showing any fear. A normal cat would have been hissing and carving its nails into my shoulder. Undeads’ instincts sure were all messed up.

“Armen?”

Ops. Ray had woken up. I peeped into the room with a large smile.

“Ray! I’m flying!”

The young necromancer reached the window and glanced at our feet, which were standing on nothing more than the night air. He didn’t look surprised. So, he already knew about Natasha’s power. He turned to her.

“Good evening, Natasha.”

“Good evening, Ray Styxer. I came to take your little Fury. If our deal is still on.”

“It is. Thanks for your help.” Ray wavered. “We finally decided not to take the pills you talked about.”

“Okay. Will you still join our group?”

“I thank your master for the invitation, but I must decline.”

“I can’t say I’m surprised. If you only ask me to help Armen find people to feed on them, I’ll do it for free.”

I gasped. For free?! Ray looked troubled.

“You… don’t want money?”

Natasha’s eyes gleamed.

“My master told me not to be greedy and help you as best as I can. Of course, if you ask for personally prepared meals, I’ll charge you.”

“Which means I’d owe the Vod Group a big favor,” Ray replied with a sigh.

Natasha smiled.

“Huhuhu. Don’t look so dejected. Well, if you prefer to ask for your father’s help, please do.”

Ray hesitated for a moment then shook his head and bowed politely.

“Please look after Armen.”

“It will be my pleasure. Shall we go? Oh… By the way, I didn’t know you had another familiar.” She pointed her chin at the cat, now perched on my shoulder. “What’s its name?”

“It’s Rainbows,” I said. “She’s my little sis.”

Natasha’s eyes observed the brindled cat, and she echoed:

“Rainbows… Why?”

I smiled at Ray’s grimace. Louise had named the cat Rainbows even before she had been revived, and it had stuck. The young necromancer shrugged.

“No idea. I wasn’t the one who named her.”

Natasha frowned.

“It’s the master’s duty to name their familiars. Names color the soul.”

“What a stupid belief. ” I snorted with laughter at Ray’s comeback. He tried to fix his rudeness: “I mean, a name is just a group of sounds. The way you use it is more important.”

“Whatever. Is Rainbows coming with us, too? ”

“No,” Ray said.

“Why not?” I replied. The cat jumped from my shoulder into the room with a decided meow. I pouted. “See? She’s afraid of being away from you. But she can’t stay in that room forever, can she?”

“…” Ray hesitated, then shook his head. “Maybe some other time, but not tonight.” His dark eyes fixed on me. “Well, I hope you’ll have a good, er, a good dinner.”

I grinned.

“Thanks. I will.”

Natasha took my hand and began leading me down the invisible stairs. We then started climbing up, then down, then up again, moving away from the academy, towards the main island. After a while, I got used to the steps, and an idea occurred to me.

“Why stairs? Wouldn’t making a flying corridor be faster?”

Natasha grumbled something under her breath and explained:

“That’s how my power works. Fifteen steps, up or down, with an angle of zero to ninety degrees to the left or right. Can’t do better than that.”

Her tone was slightly bitter. I raised an eyebrow.

“Well, it’s already amazing, grandma.”

“Some people in Singapore call me the Old Grasshopper because of that,” she grumbled, seemingly not hearing me.

I smiled and repeated:

“It’s already amazing, grandma. In a way, it’s better than flying. Birds can’t sit down in the air. Right, Ray told me birds can’t even fly on this island because of the odd gravity, but you can! And what’s even better, you can bring people with y—Whoa!”

I gasped suddenly, looking down at the submerged Neck of the turtle. When I had swum across it the day before, the twinkling algae was barely visible. Now, however, all the algae were shimmering like a sea of small fires. Could it be because of another earthquake? Whatever it may be, the view was beautiful.

“Fool,” Natasha snorted, pulling me back. Only then did I realize that I had almost fallen over. “Watch your step.”

“Okay!”

We continued. Up and down, up and down. We finally reached the cliffs and landed on the wild grass growing on the slope. Natasha kept walking without stopping. I glanced at Kim’s lighthouse before following the necromancer girl into the city.

As the last times, even at night, there were quite a few people in the streets. We walked down a long avenue and a lane full of nightclubs and restaurants before Natasha stopped, looking at a noisy bar.

“Okay. Now observe and learn.”

Curious, I followed her into the dark alley next to the bar. There was a drunk man in a suit snoozing there, among empty cardboard boxes. With a casual gesture, Natasha took his hand and raised it towards me.

“Enjoy.”

I gaped at her.

“So… it’s all about finding defenseless people who won’t remember anything the next morning? That’s a bit…”

“That’s how nature works. The tiger chases the wounded prey. Enjoy,” she repeated.

“…” I crouched, fidgeted, and muttered: “I’m no tiger.”

Natasha clicked her tongue and put the guy’s hand on mine… I drew back just in time, standing up.

“Wait, grandma. I can’t do this. I may be hungry, but my conscience, you know…”

She sighed loudly with surprise.

“You didn’t think about your conscience when you drank the meal I made for you this morning. Really, stop it. If you’re going to play the saint—”

“What saint?” I breathed out and crouched again. “I’m no saint either. I’m just trying to reason. Drinking alcohol is no crime.”

“Since when are we trying to find criminals now?”

“Not necessarily criminals, but… Well, I know we’re not killing them. Still, such an amount of lifeforce… I’m sure a human needs at least several days to recover from it, right? So, if they were at least people I don’t like… it would be easier for me.”

“… You’re getting on my nerves.” She paused. “So? What kind of people do you not like?”

“Hmwell… Murderers.”

“Okay. You might as well know it now: you’ll starve to death if you only choose murderers, kid.”

“Er… People who hurt others’ feelings. People that don’t respect others. Liars. Evil scammers.”

“Are there even good scammers? Well, your list is growing. But it’s still not enough. How are you going to find such specific personalities and then create a good opportunity to attack them in one night?”

I frowned, pondering. At this moment, the drunk man woke up, blinked at Natasha, and chuckled in his dialect:

“Aye, beautiful lady, did I go to heaven? Haha, there’s no way I did, huh. I’m still in this boring world, with my boring job, my boring life, my damn debt. Will you pay it for me, dear angel? Ah, but you people from the Sun always scorned money. Money is the evil. Money,” he hiccuped. “The Shining One hates it, too. But what can I do? All I do now is drink my life away. Such a worthless life… I should just die.”

He tried to get up to his feet, staggered, and I unconsciously took him by the arm. He grabbed my hand like a blind man. Before I knew it, I was eating his lifeforce in droves. I was so focused that I barely noticed when Natasha hit the man on the back of his neck to knock him out. I don’t know how long I fed on him. Fortunately, Natasha intervened to separate us before I could completely drain the guy. I stepped back, trembling, my core feasting on the meal.

“Thanks, grandma.” It was relieving to know that, thanks to Natasha being there, I wouldn’t kill anyone. Damn. So, in the end, I had ended up feeding on a drunk man who, from his words, was probably a pretty good fellow with bad luck. Well, what was done was done. I thanked him mentally for his energy and turned to the necromancer girl, straightening up. “You pulled me away more easily than I expected… You’re quite strong, aren’t you?”

“Generally, grown-up undeads are stronger than cubs. Anyhow, this is really bad.”

I raised an eyebrow.

“What is?”

Natasha looked at me with an incredulous expression on her face.

“Seriously, brat, how did you do it?”

“…? D-Don’t tell me I ate too much—?!”

“No, that’s not it. I mean, I was the one who targeted him, but… to think your first target would be a worshipper of the Shining One. It is just so unlikely.”

The Shining One? I frowned, trying to remember, in vain.

“Who’s the Shining One?”

“A god. Not a Holy God, but a pagan one. Shining One believers usually follow very strict regulations. Didn’t your master tell you?” She averted her eyes from the unconscious man and turned to me again, “The members of the Blazing Sun Corporation are all Shining One believers.”

I was getting more and more confused.

“Sorry, grandma… The Blazing Sun Corporation?”

Natasha’s eyes froze.

“One of the biggest group of Death Hunters in the world.”

My core leaped and shuddered.

Death Hunters.

Then… I turned to the drunk man with a chill. Natasha shrugged.

“Given his clothes, he’s probably just a clerk and not a Death Hunter. But if he remembers us and what happened, he will surely report it.”

We fell silent. I was stiff, wondering what Natasha was planning to do. Finally, she crouched, searched the man’s wallet, flicked on her lantern to read something—probably his name—shrugged again, stood up, and began walking out of the alley, saying:

“It’s too dark in there. He can’t have seen our faces clearly. Let’s go find the next one. A bad guy or whatever. You choose your target, brat.”

I sighed in relief, cast the Shining One believer a last glance, and whispered:

“I hope you cheer up, man. Life is not all suffering.”

I rushed after Natasha, adding inwardly: nor death is.

Long after we left, the man in a suit was lying face up, his eyes fixed on the stars. He was shaking in fear, covered in cold sweat.

“Oh my God, that was sobering,” he stammered. “Oh my God, I thought I was gonna die…”