Chapter Eighteen
Harmony had to account for several complicating factors like any daring plan.
Legally, at least within the city, it shouldn’t be any more problematic than raising someone’s dead pet or even a person with legal loopholes for class-specific actions. Hazeldown made it simple in that respect. All unused dead matter belonged to the dungeon. The town was a net importer of corpses, animals, and humans alike to feed its hunger to help support the economy in the region. Necromancers got an exception to claim remains for use.
When she’d first gotten the scroll, the idea had been to pay attention to contenders in pet battles. As much as the commission tried, one or two died yearly. Not that acquiring one would be easy if the pet battlers cared even half as much as Ambrosia did about her birds. Getting the body of one to raise, even offering a second chance, might have been difficult.
Having sat for days without being claimed legally, Harmony knew she had every right to take the body except for the sticky issues of politics, possibly public outrage, and a greater risk of reprisals. It would be best if no one knew it was her.
All the time she spent modifying others, she’d avoided doing it to herself. Repairing a chipped nail or two was one thing, but this, she felt both excited and apprehensive. Starting with her fingers, she turned her nice neat, practically kept-short nails into long, pointed implements, a style that went in and out of fashion with the seasons. Then she adjusted the color to be red and flashy. Synergizing [Manipulate Dead] and [Beautician] felt more effortless than ever. Like she could simply wave her hands and make all the changes she wanted at a moment’s notice.
Were unlocked stats so powerful? Between those and the new skills, her understanding of her limits and possibilities seemed wider than ever. Time for extensive experimentation would have to be another day, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t try to make all those beauty changes to test things out.
Her naturally neat black hair grew from chin length to below the shoulders, turning gold, only to bounce up as she added curls. Her eyebrows and even that fuzz on her face turned to match. But the eyebrows needed to be thicker and more defined. Some dead skin cells were manipulated to pretend to have sharper cheekbones and a chin. Then, add some color.
Out of her bag, she fetched the crystal ball. With a little bit of manipulation of the tool, she turned it into a mirror… and… quickly undid half her skill work. Attempting such a change without a mirror and for the first time left her looking more like an embarrassing jester than a stylish new woman. Full gold eyebrows had managed to look like two caterpillars attacking her face, and the color of her cheeks failed to blend, making it look like a paint splash. With practice, she might be able to wave her hands and get a new look, but for the first time, it turned out to be a dreadful failure.
“Grrup, grrup, grrup.” Hyacinth chuckled at her side.
“Shush, you. A bit of humility is good. And as much as I wish I could have your support in this, I’m afraid too many people may be able to link you to Harmony. I promised hunting time. Go hunt.”
Hyacinth hopped into the shadows.
“And no pets!” She yelled after him.
Harmony forced her pace to quicken. Hesitation ruins many a decision. Her skills echoed that belief, be it the kick, the armor, and those that meditated on beauty and social graces. She knew she could pull examples of patience too. She stepped onto the main thoroughfare letting the chaotic energy of the evening air in the district distract from doubts and force her to focus on her goal lest she becomes lost in the crowd.
“Crawler cutie, I want to dive into your depths.”
The necromancer’s body flushed with the warmth of false desire, bringing her to a stop. Inside her soul’s churn of skills that [Mana Rotation] provided [Cold Touch] flared in annoyance, sending a wave of ice into the effect.
The cat-caller’s cruel and lecherous eyes drilled confidently into her. His cocky stance waiting for her to go to him.
She’d received overbearing attention before, but the temerity to use a skill on her caused her leg to itch to kick the smarmy look off the charmer’s face. Too much attention. Lashing out, she thickened and sealed whatever thin layer of dead skin was on the lips of that smirking smile.
“Keep your rude words to yourself.”
The man’s eyes widened a little as he tried to open his mouth only to find it locked closed.
Harmony turned heel and darted into the crowd. Returning aggression with aggression hadn’t been part of her plans. She knew she still hadn’t adjusted to all her new skills, levels, and stats. Stabilizing yourself after so many changes took time, but she had to act before this opportunity was lost. Leaning into her physical skills and short height, she moved onward, dodging and weaving gracefully between tourists and citizens alike.
The crowd traffic headed toward the gyms, guild houses, and lines to enter the common dungeon entrances. It was away from the area of the city where the House of the Dead held her target, but it had everything she needed to get there.
The first of the carriage drivers came into view, smoking a spice stick and scratching the head of a giant lizard he used to pull it. Probably a pet. She internally giggled at the idea of her new pet handling such a job.
That cart was missing what she was looking for. Mike and The Dig Boys had explained what separated a reliable carriage from a risky one. In their opinion, the gym-sponsored ones were bust but conceded the guild operated, and blue faction ones were acceptable. The critical thing is that those sponsoring organizations cracked down on unreliable and counterfeit drivers.
She checked out several carts, carriages, and wagons, turning down a pair of offers from drivers before she spotted what she was looking for. Parallel blue lines marked a rickety bench cart. Paint stripes that are old enough not to have just been added in the last few days.
The tall bipedal yellow bird strapped to it cooed at her.
“Don’t mind, Big. He’s just a friendly old bird. All the kids on our street love him.” An old white-haired driver said to her from his spot resting against a nearby wall. He had a bit of blue fabric tied around his neck, another good sign he was part of the blue faction.
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The bird loomed over her with its wicked orange beak. “Kweh!” it squawked.
The idea that kids could find such a frightening creature lovable made Harmony wonder what kind of neighborhood this driver lived in. At least when the dungeon produced horrors, her skills worked on them. For the reliability of the blue faction, she’d put up with it.
“Are you willing to take me to The House of the Dead?”
“Planning to get one last look at the prince before the royals take him away?”
People went there for other reasons. Hefty tomes of names recording every person who died and was sent to the dungeon sat out for people to pay respects to. Descriptions and sketches for those nameless dead filled a few odd pages if you wanted to search for a loved one. But most people held private ceremonies or had family shrines and memento boxes.
“Yeah.”
“I hear he’s quite the sight, even days after. Though, a preservation skill might be involved. No one wants to piss off the royals by letting one of their dear sons rot in our little backwater. I’m Hooper, by the way; you can call me Hoop.”
“Any idea what the plans are for retrieval, Hoop?”
The old man gave her a dismissive wave. “Dozens of rumors. Some wonder why it’s taking so long. It could be any day. Some expect the body to be whisked away in the middle of the night.”
“His pet too?”
“The coatl? Beautiful beast. Big has to be some distant cousin of it, the regal bird he is.”
The old man moved to his bird and scratched it under the chin.
“No one knows. But that’s why you’ve come to me. To see the beauty and his beautiful beast. Five coppers, and I can guarantee to get you there before it closes.”
“Three. And I trust you to get me there on time without a guarantee.” Harmony countered.
Hoop flicked the blue fabric around his neck and gave her a wink. “Fine. Get in.”
Seating herself in the cart, it creaked under her. Reputation and a deadline kept her committed.
Hoop hopped up into the driver’s spot.
“Kweh!” The mount cried, then kicked off.
The burst of speed threw Harmony back. She half expected it to run over the people in the main thoroughfare, except it hit just enough space to pass through. Drawing a few exclamations at how close it came to hitting a few people before it turned down the more empty side streets that primarily served those kinds of transports.
Two street changes in the cart hopped to the side. An energy-coated empowered stone streaked past where Harmony’s head had been.
“You got some enemies you neglected to tell me about?” Hoop asked?
Her first thoughts had been that someone was going after her driver. “No, I…” She looked back. “Shit.”
The smirking charmer beat the reins of a cart. Its beast of burden, a mule, looked scared and frantic. The smirk was now a bloody grin, as he clearly forced his mouth open after the necromancer’s little trick, ripping the surface of his lips. “Slow down and take your punishment!” He yelled with a voice projected by some skill.
[Small Armor] let her absorb the incoming effect rather than have it land on Hoop or his mount. That brief flicker of the charm washed through her before a cold anger supported by her internal strength drained it away.
“A punk who tried to charm me forcibly. I shut his mouth for him and assumed it was over.” She told Hoop.
The cart turned a corner to avoid a projectile.
“It’s bad luck to get caught up with a rat pack member.”
“Who?” Harmony asked.
“A local gang. More will come out of the woodwork. I should have charged you five coppers if I’d known. Still, they should know better.”
A second cart with a burly-looking individual. The clothes were similar to the smirker’s pulled out of a street blocking the way for them.
Harmony’s mind raced for a solution. Kicking seemed possible, but the big yellow bird picked up the pace instead of slowing down in the face of the obstacle.
“Hold on!” Hoop yelled.
The yellow bird leaped. It’s mass pulling the cart up and off the ground with it. It was not a graceful glide as the bird knocked the burly gang member to the ground as it sailed over.
Harmony activated aspects of her physical skills to keep from being thrown herself through the rough and tumble landing. “Sorry about that.”
Hoop waved her off. “Lessons have to be taught to be learned.”
An Ox pulled carriage charged towards them from a crossing intersection aiming to either block or ram them. He pulled a small blue ball out of a small pouch at his side and tossed it behind them. It exploded into a billowing stream of signaling blue smoke rose into the air.
“Assist?” Hoop asked.
“Can do,” Harmony answered.
She pulled her armor out of her soul space. The shock of the cool evening air flashed across her now bare skin as it replaced the dark robe she’d chosen for the trip. Whatever power stored this paired item, the space wasn’t happy about holding the robe there for long. She’d hoped it would go on over her clothes rather than make her mostly naked again.
Leaning into the side where the Ox was charging, she activated [Small Armor] and empowered it with [Mana Rotation]. Anchoring to the side of the cart, she swung out the armored back of her glove, swinging down like a hammer quicker than the beast charged forward.
The strike hit the poor beast in the head, and the force of her skill helped push it down until its horns hit the ground. The hit could only partially halt some momentum and mostly deflected it downward.
The cart rammed into the beast’s backside tilting the whole unit perpendicular as Hoop, and his big yellow bird’s cart barrelled past it before the whole thing toppled over into their wake.
Quickly Harmony swapped back into her robe. The clothes now felt rougher and damaged from their brief time in the internal space.
The driver grunted appreciatively for the save.
A bat darted through the air and landed on Hoop’s shoulder. Familiar or pet, Harmony wasn’t sure. Hyacinth usually was more perceptive about such things, but the small animal had a blue ribbon tied around its foot.
“One… Two… Three... Rats.” The driver told the bat before it took off back into the air again. He looked back with a grin. “Won’t be long now.”
The cart continued to speed onward, and the maid realized that she no longer knew exactly where they were in the city with all the chaos.
“Boom!” The first explosion could be heard from behind them. Several more followed.
The cart slowed to a more reasonable pace as though the explosions resolved the issue.
At a crowded intersection, two drivers sat in a blue faction-marked carriage, a pair of lizardmen, one orange and one yellow, seated at the front with blue collars. The drivers whistled and saluted the old driver.
“See, all taken care of,” Hoop told her.
“Thanks.” She answered, accepting that the blue faction must have done their job. What exactly was taken care of, and how much eluded Harmony.
A quick but certainly more leisurely pace by the yellow bird pulled her to where The House of the Dead sat.
Harmony pulled out extra coins to tip the man.
“I agreed to three coppers, and that’s what I charge,” he said, refusing them. “Need me to wait?”
“I don’t know how long I’ll be.” She answered truthfully, and her exit could be a little more exciting or awkward than she imagined. The cart didn’t have enough space for her and a new pet if she needed that. “Go on without me.”
“I hope you find what you’re looking for, miss.”
“Me too,” Harmony replied, watching as he pulled away before turning towards the steps leading up to the temple.