Cold, dark, and wet is how the room would be described, but Alaster did not care. Dressed in his nobleman’s suit, he was a stark outlier from his surroundings, but Alaster did not care. Out in the world, his Hordes of Undead were ravaging the countryside, exterminating every Monster or Bandit they came across, but Alaster did not care.
Confident in his own strength, Alaster had allowed himself to relax, even in the home of his enemy. Even when an army of Masters were just a few miles away, just waiting for an excuse to let loose their power. He knew he could not defeat all of them, but he did know he could get away without too much injury or loss.
Sedall’s warning had driven a stake through his heart. It had completely shattered his confidence. Alaster was certain he could either defeat or escape any threat posed to him, but this new threat wasn’t aimed at him. It was aimed at the one person he loved more than anything else. It was a threat aimed at Evelyn, his sister.
Any other person would have doubted Sedall’s words and warnings as they simply seemed too outlandish. In a world of Magic and Monsters, it seemed impossible that a single person could level mountains, let alone that there were many such people, and they secretly protected the world. Or that these same people had also been crippling the world, keeping it stable, but also keeping it weak.
But Alaster knew firsthand that these people were not even the strongest beings of Humanity, let alone of this world. He had personally seen a God, felt his impossibly unfathomably deep power. A power that the world itself rejected, casting it out for self-preservation, its mere presence threatening the structure of the planet itself.
Alaster knew that each word Sedall spoke was truth. And it was because it was truth that Alaster was afraid. Not for himself, but for Evelyn. He was the fastest growing Human in the world, while others struggled for years to advance a single level, he breezed through dozens, yet he was scared that he would not be fast enough.
He feared that when they came for Evelyn, he would only be able to watch. Unable to do anything to stop them.
He had stood before the God of the Dead and fearlessly blamed him for the troubles of Humanity. He had faced down hordes of bloodthirsty Monsters, each one clawing at each other in order to be the first to taste his flesh. Not once had he shown true genuine fear. Yet now it consumed him.
Alaster had once heard that fear caused two different reactions in a person. Fight or Flight. He could either flee, or he could fight. And Alaster had never been one for fleeing.
He had no doubt that his hordes of Undead throughout the continent had caught the Demigods’ attention. He did not care, in fact he welcomed it. The more attention they put on his Undead, the less attention they would put onto seeking other Grade Threes, such as his sister.
Many of the Nations ignored his Undead, letting them do as they pleased as they did not attack any population centers. Zalar was using them to further cleanse their land of Monsters, even if they overestimated themselves for a moment there. The Empire was making preparations to wipe out his Undead alongside the other Monsters that had gathered around them.
Alaster did not care either way, so long as the Death Knight stationed in the Empire got away, the rest of the Undead did not matter. Not one of them were Woven. Each one was just a common summoned Undead, typically seen amongst Lich armies.
After Lezrem had collected and ‘adjusted’ the soul of the female Bandit Leader, he had happily wondered off with his own Undead doing his own hunting, just at a much less noticeable pace.
Alaster had taken the soul and implemented it into his Weave, very slowly, and very carefully, Weaving it into his own soul. Once it was completed, Alaster held onto it and traveled to Fenrir, who had completed the body.
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Now, Alaster stood before the prepared body of the Third. Before he implanted the Weave and Soul combo, Alaster carefully inspected the body, silently glad that Fenrir had finally clothed it. The inspection Alaster did was not a physical one, but a Magical one. Alaster wished to know what it could do besides look pretty.
“You did not include transformation.” Alaster noted.
Fenrir huffed from the corner, “With all the other shit you had me include? There wasn’t any room for a full transformation, instead, it can sprout black wings from its back that it can use to fly. But no, it can’t completely transform into a small little bird.”
Alaster continued the inspection in silence for a few minutes before Fenrir spoke once more, “What do you intend for it to do first? Begin assassinating some Nobles? Breaking into their homes and stealing priceless artifacts? Oooh, maybe befriending Evelyn and staying close to her all the time so it can protect her?”
Alaster shook his head, Fenrir might be able to search their connection for the answer, but he knew that Fenrir was more straightforward than that.
“I will first introduce her as my assistant, which will allow her to act in my name. She will seduce and manipulate in order to gather information. And, similar to how you are in charge of the infantry, she will be in charge of the spying and assassination. Who knows, with her flying ability, she might even begin creating her own flying Undead.”
Fenrir raised a curious eyebrow, “That would be interesting, though in any large battle they would immediately be picked off by arrows or spells.”
Alaster waved away the comment, “We’ll figure it out if it ever comes up. For now, we first have to inject the Soul and Weave.”
“Should I leave the two of you alone?” Fenrir snickered.
Alaster groaned, wondering just how much attention it would cause if he threw Fenrir through the building next door.
“Shut up and help make sure the Weave takes hold properly.”
Fenrir chuckled and stood up behind the standing body, activating his own Weave Sight.
Alaster sighed as he began to slowly inject the Soul and Weave.
Sometimes he wished he hadn’t made Fenrir so brash and blunt. Of course, he couldn’t really complain because everything about Fenrir’s personality was actually just a part of himself. Alaster had merely amplified some aspects while suppressing others.
Alaster had designed Fenrir to be his frontline warrior. Someone who relished the fight and always sought to become stronger. A soldier. And battle was quite possibly one of the most honest forms of communication, one devoid of lies or deception. War was deception, but the actual combat was simple. Either side wanted to kill the other and both wanted to survive.
Alaster made sure to make those aspects more apparent in Fenrir in order to made him a better soldier.
Every aspect of the other Bodies’ personalities were just the same aspects of Alaster’s own personalities, just slightly adjusted.
Slowly, Alaster sewed the Weave into the body. To the naked eye, it was just three people standing still in the empty room. But for someone with Weave Sight, they would see thousands of tendrils of mana, writhing around, slowly melting into the woman’s body. Each one infused with countless microscopic Runes detailed with the Weaves.
Hours passed as each and every Rune slowly infused itself into the body of the woman. The sun rose and fell once more before it was finally finished. When it was finally done, Alaster conjured a chair of bone and collapsed onto it.
Fenrir, who only had to point out a few mistakes, remained fine, if a bit tired, even if he did not need to sleep.
Before them, stood a slender woman with raven black hair who looked around curiously. Even dressed in rags, she still looked gorgeous. Alaster had no doubt that she would captivate the hearts and minds of many men and even women in the court.
While the woman was busy sorting through Alaster’s and Fenrir’s memories and thoughts, Alaster wondered if he was becoming a Hive Mind. Regardless, Alaster did not care. He checked in with the Shadow Assassins who remained in the castle.
After receiving reports of a boring day with nothing of importance happening, at least not that they could detect, Alaster stretched his shoulders back, feeling them crack, and stood up.
“First order of business, Fenrir, I need you to start hunting Monsters as well. Do whatever you need to do to grow stronger. We need to get as strong as we can as quickly as we can.”
Fenrir nodded, “Then I’ll head over to the Gilaen Empire. They seem to be the only ones intending to attack the Hordes so I figure I can go hinder them. Maybe kill a few dozen Experts. Maybe I’ll even bag a Master.”
“You,” Alaster turned to the woman, “I need you to get close to the Nobles, infiltrate their circles. Eliminate the ones who mean us or Evelyn harm, and remove any obstacles.”
“Understood,” the woman responded with a silky seductive voice, “But what is my name?”