After passing through the guards and servants, Alaster finally entered the Siphas Estate. He was not there to reminisce or have friendly conversations. He was there to find Colius.
Even after all these years, the old man had not changed much, including his room and workshop.
Alaster knocked on the door and stood back. Immediately, there was a crashing noise followed by a profound vocabulary. The voice gradually grew louder as it reached the door.
Colius threw the door open, and his annoyed face appeared, “What?” the old man yelled, “Oh, hey Alaster. How are you feeling?”
“Not bad considering I died.” Alaster replied with a grin.
The old man’s antics were comforting if anything.
Colius wildly waved his hands in the air, “Bah! That was ages ago! Come in, come in!” Despite the man’s words, his face was joyous, if a tad annoyed at an experiment delayed.
Alaster ordered his Minions to the side of the hall, allowing anyone to get past them. The Undead Workers’ combat capability was that of a child, incapable of defending their cargo, but Alaster doubted that any would attempt to steal the bodies within the Siphas Manor. And if someone was foolish enough to do so, there were four Shadow Assassins watching over them.
Colius’ room had not changed much. It was still a cluttered mess with a bed shoved into the corner. Numerous tables with various experiments and stacks of books. Crumpled papers and discarded parts lay on the ground in piles next to even more stacks of books. Alaster even spotted a stack of books that started on the ground and towered over his own considerable height.
Colius himself slowly but smoothly maneuvered through the chaos with practiced ease. On one of the center tables a smoking vial lay next to the shattered remains of three others. The old man began to throw the shards of glass into a spatial portal.
“Seriously?” Alaster asked, unsure whether he should laugh.
Colius didn’t look up, “What?”
“People spend their life savings to purchase a small Bag of Holding and you made a Ring of Holding just for your trash?”
Colius shrugged without apology, “Its easier for both me and the cleaners. All I have to do is hand them the Ring so they can empty it. Much easier for everyone.”
Alaster shook his head with a smile, “Well, that’s not what I’m here to talk to you about.”
Alaster sat down on a stack of books, “The Ring you gave me on my birthday has made my survival much easier. Not that it could have been described as easy in any sense of the word. However, now that I am an Expert, I need a bigger Ring. Preferably one that I could store my Minions in.”
Alaster already had the Ring of Summoning, but that only held fifty, and he could summon several hundred.
Colius threw the last shard of glass away and looked up with a thoughtful gaze, scratching the scruff under his chin.
“Hmmm, I think that would be possible. Though it would take a few weeks, maybe even Months. Minions would add an entirely new level of complexity.”
Alaster sighed in disappointment, but he had expected something similar.
“That’s a shame, but understandable. What about making the Ring larger? Say, fifty feet by fifty?”
You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.
Colius laughed, “What are you planning? Emptying entire warehouses?”
Following his old teacher’s example, Alaster shrugged, “I don’t like carrying luggage around. And I have plans for a new Minion that, if it works, will be more effective if I have a lot of storage.”
“You can make your own Minions? Now that is a rare skill, one that you should keep to yourself. Its rare to make your own, damn unheard of to make Minions as powerful as what you have.”
“I know. Unfortunately, I will be leaving with that Galmorian Delegation. When could you finish the Ring?”
Colius waved his hand through the air, “Bah, if it takes me longer than four hours I will give you a gold coin.”
Alaster stood up, chuckling, “Thanks teach, though keep your gold. I already have more than I could ever use, and I don’t really need a lot. I make my own weapons, armor, and shelter. And I hunt my own food.”
Colius spun on Alaster with greed in his eyes, “One can never have too much gold! Gimme the Ring and get out, the stench of those bodies is stinking up the hallway.”
Alaster doubted that. The wrappings were enchanted to preserve them. They likely only appeared as if a few hours had passed since Alaster killed them.
Alaster took off the Ring for the first time since his fifteenth birthday and handed it over to the eccentric old man.
“Oh, one last thing. I need a large open space so that I can experiment with dangerous Magic and won’t be interrupted. I used the City Lord’s training hall last time and it seemed to cause a stir.”
Colius took the ring and thought for a moment, “Just use the training hall here. Lord Siphas’ personal training hall is only a little smaller than the City Lord’s and only his family is permitted it’s use.”
“I’m not his family.”
Colius looked in Alaster’s eye, “Stop thinking like that. Both the Lord and Lady Siphas have told you on numerous occasions to think of them as family. Young Lady Isabella already thinks of you like an older brother. The servants treat you like a member of the family. In fact, just about the only person who doesn’t think of you as a member of the Siphas Family, is you.”
The old man let that sink in before continuing, “Now go away. I have work to do. I’ll get the Ring back to you before tomorrow night.”
* * * * *
Alaster stood over the bodies of the dozen Experts that had killed him. A difficult feat. Alaster was a powerful Expert, one that was even harder to kill. Both Belgroth and Sedall agreed on that matter. Yet this dozen had managed it. They had lost many of their number in doing so, but they had still managed it.
The Undead Workers had positioned the bodies in two neat rows of six in the dirt of the Siphas Training Hall. The Hall itself might as well have been a smaller copy of the City Lord’s. It suited Alaster’s purposes, for now.
Each of the bodies had their parts aligned to their original positions and had their hands laid against their chests. The wrappings had done an excellent job of preserving the bodies. And the body people, Alaster wasn’t sure of their actual title, had done an equally excellent job of cleaning the bodies. It if was not for many of the bodies being in multiple parts, it would have appeared as if they were just sleeping.
Before beginning Alaster took some time to examine each body closely. As Experts, their bodies had naturally expelled all impurities, molding their bodies to the most efficient state. In doing so, there were very few unattractive Experts. Each of the dozen were enough to stop crowds.
The fight itself had been quite short, but it had been incredibly intense. Alaster recognized each one, and their part in the battle. He replayed the scene in his mind as he looked at each corpse. Analyzing it, finding things he could have done better, or movements that were excessive.
From their build alone, Alaster was able to quickly decipher which of them used which weapons, though Alaster still needed to locate and reacquire them. If the Ability worked as it claimed, then Alaster would need to arm them. What better to arm them with than the weapons they were already familiar with?
From the Mana Streams of the Ability, which made his head ache even more with just a glance due to its complexity, Alaster knew that the Spell would rebuild the body. If the original parts were present, the Spell would use them, but if they weren’t, then the Spell would create the parts out of Necrotic Mana. They wouldn’t be as efficient, but they would work.
The Spell claimed to simply apply a copy of the body’s memories back onto the body, practically reviving it, while realistically not. In doing so, they would have all the knowledge, skill, and Abilities that they had while they lived.
During the battle, Alaster had been on the defensive the entire time. Not because of their power, though that too was quite immense. But due to their teamwork. They knew just how to apply their powers in tandem with each other in order to leave no gaps the opponent could escape through.
He was quite excited to see how he could use that himself.
It was actually this dozen that had given Alaster his idea for his next Minion, or two. He wanted to put his ideas all into one Minion, but if that was not possible, he would make two. But he was not here to construct a new Minion.
He was here to revive the dead.