Alaster walked leisurely through the streets of Galmore, taking in the sights and sounds. The people around Azemar’s residence and grown used to the giant of a man walking around, though they did not know that he and the man in cruel black armor they had heard about were the same.

At first, they had been wary of the man. Who wouldn’t? He was a massive stranger with an aura of death around them. Anyone in their right mind would be distrustful of such a person.

However, Alaster had unintentionally earned their trust when a thief was running away from the guards, not looking where he was going, and ran into him. With his strong and durable body, the thief bounced off of him and hit his head on the paved road, falling unconscious.

Both the people and the guards had mistakenly assumed that Alaster had done something to the thief and praised him, but Alaster was simply checking the prices on a piece of cake in a store window.

His so called ‘fame’ only extended to this street with Azemar’s home, which he was happy about. He didn’t like much attention. Which the people seemed to understand. They didn’t make a big deal about their believed guardian and only smiled politely and waved at him as he passed.

The firearm that Claire was working on was progressing well. It would be cutting it close, but he believed that it would be ready for true battle and mass production before he left Galmore. A time that was fast approaching.

He had first thought that the year would pass by as quickly as a tortoise. He was used to a life of constant fighting for survival. A life of study and lessons was bound to be boring. Yet it wasn’t.

Sure, there were boring days. But most of the time, the lessons were interesting enough to keep Alaster’s attention. After the lesson, Alaster kept himself busy through a multitude of projects. One such project being the prototype with Clair.

However, he also kept himself busy with the constant need to reinforce his Undead Army as they battled against the Lich. Then there were the nightly games of chess against Lunaria and occasional conversations with her father.

Azemar was quite interesting to talk to. Alaster was certain that he was only middle aged. While the System could slow aging, there was a certain feeling that came with those that had lived past their natural lifespan. Most people wouldn’t be able to identify the feeling, but Alaster had met a God, one of the oldest beings. Azemar simply did not have that same feeling of aged wisdom.

Though he was certainly wise.

The Elder was constantly reading, and it showed through his words. No matter what Alaster talked to him about, the man had an educated opinion about it. While most other people would have an opinion about everything, regardless of if they knew what they were talking about, Azemar knew enough to form an educated opinion about it.

Including things, he should not have known about.

Azemar somehow knew that Alaster had spoken to Ebris, God of the Dead. Sedall had confirmed that even the Demi-Gods could not have known. Yet somehow this mortal had. Even worse, the man had not seemed all that impressed with it. Azemar had casually dropped that bit of knowledge as if he was talking about the weather.

Despite enjoying their talks, Alaster could not help but think that the man had an ulterior motive for teaching him. And no matter how much he steered the conversation or did his own investigating, Alaster could not figure it out.

Sure, his potential was vast, made even more so when coupled with Azemar’s teachings, but there were others that must have had potential that would have assisted either Azemar or the city more. Whatever his reason for teaching Alaster, it had nothing to do with the city.

Azemar had ensured that Alaster kept his face hidden whenever they were out in public together. Even when Alaster left and returned to Azemar’s manor, he used [Swap], never actually approaching the building himself.

Of course, he had no doubt that a few of the more observant Nobles suspected him. The population of Galmore was so large that even the taxation department of the city struggled to accurately account for each person. But it was difficult to find people that matched Alaster’s size and build.

Nevertheless, Azemar’s reason for teaching Alaster did not affect the city in any way. At least, not in a way that Azemar cared about. Whatever his reason, it was personal to him. Yet it remained unknown to anyone but him.

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Alaster did not mind. He could sense that it was not malicious against him. Though he was a tad irritated that he couldn’t figure it out. More curious than angry.

His lessons meanwhile were taking on more of a practical over theoretical side. If learning which of the four forks to use on a salad was in any way practical. Which was the most challenging part.

Alaster struggled to care enough to learn the etiquette because he could not see a single practical reason for it. However, he understood that if he did not know it, he would stand out among the Noble Caste. So, he sucked it up, and pushed through. He did not want any suspicion to be cast on him until it was already too late for them to respond.

Unfortunately, the dancing lessons continued to occur, much to Lunaria’s joy and Alaster’s dismay.

The steps themselves were quite simple for his trained body and mind to comprehend and execute. He had already painstakingly trained both to skillfully dance around his opponents in order to best kill them while avoiding his own death. It was simple for him to translate that skill into a less lethal version.

The struggle was Lunaria.

Alaster would have bet his entire fortune that Lunaria took some sort of sick pleasure out of making him uncomfortable. Sure, he did not care much about his growing pile of coins, but he still understood their value, even if he got it simply by killing the Monsters that attempted to kill him.

The two were already much closer than Alaster was comfortable with, even before the music began. Music that was provided by Azemar’s suits of armor holding instruments. But then once they did begin moving, she would purposely make weird faces and ask questions that would have made any man uncomfortable.

Occasionally, Alaster would even spot Azemar struggling to keep a straight face. He was clearly proud of his daughter.

Alaster laid down on his bed after playing three more games of chess against Lunaria that night, without winning once, though he actually got close in the second game. As he allowed his body to relax, Alaster checked in with Catherine.

By now, the war against the Lich had traveled much too far for Alaster to bond with any of his Undead in order to check the situation personally. But he had quickly discovered that he could mentally communicate with his Death Knights from any distance. At least any distance they had yet attempted.

“You got a minute to report?”

Normally, Alaster would have simply ordered her to do so, but as the months passed, he found himself relaxing. No longer did he search every dark alley for hidden Monsters. Nor did he look at every person with a plan to kill them. Lunaria had informed him that apparently, that was not normal.

A moment passed before Catherine responded, “Of course, m’lord. Earlier today, we managed to locate as well as corner the Lich in a location where it was surrounded with steep cliffs on all three sides. Unfortunately, the Lich was able to hold off our forces long enough for it to blow a hole in the rear cliff face, revealing a naturally forming cave.

We pursued the enemy, and discovered that the cave was in fact a massive tunnel system extending several miles. We have continued to chase the Lich all day, but the many tunnel branches allow it’s Undead to attack us constantly with little warning.

However, it seems to be headed back to Galmore. I am not certain as to its purpose, but the number of its Undead that it sends at us has been gradually decreasing. Perhaps its Mana is slowly running out? Either way, the tunnels have prevented any of the Cavalry from entering.

I have instead ordered them to chase the Lich from above ground. Though they have run into Monsters a few times.”

Alaster took it all in as his mind ran through the possibilities.

“Very well. Continue your work. However, I will be taking one hundred of the Black Guard to prevent the Lich from getting too close to the city.”

“Of course, sir.”

“What are today’s losses?”

“Sir, three hundred Black Guard. Two hundred and thirteen Minotaurs. Eighty Heavy Cavalry. Twenty Medium Cavalry. Eight Dread Knights. And finally, Twelve Death Mages.”

“Understood. I will send the reinforcements momentarily.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Alaster sighed to himself and leaned up. He had most of the requested Undead stored in his soul as he created throughout the day. The problem was most. The Lich might be running out of Mana even with the constant chase, giving it time to slowly regenerate, but it was not the only one.

Alaster’s army had been gradually growing smaller and smaller with each day. It was still an army that would send even Experts running, but against a Lich as powerful as this, he was worried that he might actually have to personally defeat it.

But that was not why he sighed.

He had forgotten that he needed to leave the city to release and send the reinforcements towards Catherine. He had already laid down and really did not want to get back up. Dealing with Lunaria was exhausting work.

But it needed to be done. So he forced himself up and exchanged places with one of his Shadows outside the city. Unleashed the army of Undead from his soul, away from the eyes, ears, and senses of the defenders atop the wall, and returned to his room.

In just five minutes, Alaster had revealed an army that would make the defenders of Galmore to ring the alarm bell, drafting the entire Galmorian Garrison to the walls. Yet the people of Galmore did not know that such a force was just a few minutes away from their beloved walls.

At least, only a handful did know.

Despite the powerful force that he had just unveiled, Alaster yawned, stripped to his undergarments, and got into bed, asleep just a few moments later.

Meanwhile, an Expert Mage in the City Lord’s castle was pulling out his graying and already thinning hair. He had felt the threat appear suddenly outside the walls before it slowly moved away. He had not been able to identify the threat, just that his senses were screaming at him about it.

Every night, for the last several months, it had happened, yet he could not figure out what it was. It was driving him crazy.

Not that Alaster would have cared either way.