(xxiv)

Lazarus frowned. This was a trail of death. Of despair. Of scientific progress! These morons didn’t know what they were doing, impeding his way like this. While the Lich didn’t doubt they would refrain from attacking him until they figured out if he was friend or foe, the muscle heads were obviously not the sharpest knives in the shop.

He watched as the two, surreptitiously titled goons one and two, stopped a surviving caravan, halting it dead in its tracks so they could ask questions he couldn’t quite hear from where he was. Frustrated, he analyzed the situation logically. He had a few different choices here and wasn’t sure which one to pursue.

The first, and probably most lucrative, choice was to simply kill them all. Granted, he wouldn’t have many answers to his questions as to what the hell was going on but the obstacle would be removed and he would have more research material.

The second choice was to approach the checkpoint directly. He watched as goon one laughed as he pawed at the woman driving the carriage. The guards next to the wheeled transport bristled but in the end, did nothing. This drove home the point that Lazarus was more than likely going to just kill everyone related to the goons. Choice one was looking better.

Choice three was to send his undead in, stage a distraction, and help fight off the ‘invasion’. This would, hopefully, garner him some-

Goon one pulled the woman off the wagon and into his arms, tearing her dress as he did so.

Lazarus was many things. Undead, by definition. A killer, by choice. Most certainly a pursuer of knowledge and power. A rapist he was not.

Choice one, it was.

The Lich checked his Mana levels:

Major Stats:

Level: 6 Elite

Heath: 2,000/2,000 Mana: 1,905 /2,200

Close enough.

Lazarus summoned both the King's Great Sword and Ebon King's Armor, wrapping himself in an incredibly intimidating Ebony Armor. He strode forward from just the edge of the tree line where they had been, immediately catching the attention of those with the wagon as well as the goons.

“Greetings, my dear fellows,” he said cheerfully, eyes blazing from the depths of his helm. “Release the woman and I will not harm you. I give you my word.”

“Eh, fuck off pretty boy,” grunted the first heavily armored goon. Then he paused, eyeballing the group with the wagon. “Oh, oh lads. This gent brought us some real good stuff. Hey pretty boy, drop your goods and piss off.”

This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

Goon two dropped the woman, whom the two escorts quickly recovered and tossed into the carriage. They moved the thing to the side quickly, loath to get involved in the budding dispute.

Lazarus, on the other hand, was more than happy at the development. He pointed a finger at goon one and said, “Black Iron Maiden”. The Lich wobbled slightly as his Mana once again dropped under a hundred. Cursing his expensive spells and swearing to find a more efficient way to cast them, he observed as the Black Iron Maiden came into existence and closed around the goon. The lucky combatant had the grace of being killed instantly.

The second one hollered, and the gates opened to spill out another six combatants.

Let the games begin.

There were two warrior types, a hooded figure, an archer, a skinny tall man in ornate robes, and one figure standing patiently much farther back.

Jet didn’t wait for an order from the Lich and charged toward the enemies. The first two panther undead shed their harnesses and sprinted along next to his undead companion. The third panther stumbled and smashed face first into the dirt, causing Lazarus to wince. That had to hurt. The last panther appeared to be struggling to free itself.

While the undead pets had taken the initiative, the Warriors rebuked the numbers that were arrayed against. Bellowing war cries, they charged forward to cover the brethren behind them.

Lazarus observed the fight, and did a double take when the hooded figure simply vanished. He kept his eyes out for the sneaky bugger, but just couldn’t locate him. Meanwhile, the robed man began to chant, identifying himself as some kind of magic caster. The Lich wondered if he could reanimate a mage. Well… time would tell.

The archer fired at one of the charging panthers but missed. The man certainly should have practiced before coming out to a battlefield. The Lich was beginning to think these were run of the mill bandits rather than some professional force of men at arms.

Then the Ghoul acted.

Sprinting forward at an astonishingly fast pace toward the Warriors, Lazarus had no chance to tell him to hold back. If the Ghoul was recognized there could be extensive problems.

“Skeletons, support our dear friends in combat,” he said, pointing forward with his summoned broad blade.

The Skeleton Warriors moved forward to engage one of their counterparts while the archers drew their bows back and fired at the enemy magic user. Surprisingly the man was spry, dodging the arrows while continuing to chant.

Jet decided to try and gnaw on the enemy archer and changed directions. This confused the first armored Warrior, allowing the two panthers to pounce on him in a spray of blood. They immediately began to eat the poor man. He was no longer a problem. The panther that had stumbled finally got back up, looking about in confusion for a target. Undead had their uses, but smart they were not.

The last panther was still stuck in its harness, and seemed to be losing enthusiasm at trying to escape.

Jet's change in direction, however, allowed the other warrior to kick him across the ground. Fury rose up in Lazarus's eyes, but before he could do anything he finally spotted the hooded man.

“You!” he said, pointing the blade at the sneaky bastard from a distance. The man froze, and the only thing that saved him was the crack of a lightning bolt as the magic caster finished his spell.

The bright flash of energy slammed into the Skeleton Archers, vaporizing two of them. The Warrior turned from having kicked Jet to find himself surrounded by Skeleton Warriors. He punched one with the pommel of his blade, taking a sword to the gut for his troubles. Panicking, he flailed around trying to defend himself.

The Skeleton Archers that remained homed in on the mage, pin cushioning him with their shots. Lazarus did a small double take then he realized one of the archers had fired two arrows. Perhaps this was a skill from the body he had raised it from? He would find out later. Interesting.

The Lich surveyed the battle, taking note that the panthers continued to eat the dead body. The last mobile panther, minus the one trapped in its harness and who was mewling pitifully, took down the archer in a whirlwind of fur, bone, and blood. Good bye, annoying ranged enemy.

The Ghoul, having changed targets several times and seemed frustrated at the lack of enemies, found itself stabbed in the back. It was a minor annoyance, but only served to enrage the undead being. With a graceful spin, it whirled and decapitated the hooded man. Good bye, annoying stealthy threat.

The last Warrior went down in a spray of blood to the Skeleton Warriors. Barring those observing, and the last man standing inside the gates, the fight was over.

A slow clap brought Lazarus’s attention to the odd man left inside the still open gateway.

“Bravo! What a show! That was most amusing, Master Lich. Now, How about a bit of a challenge?” he said, grinning.