"Inventory: Black Box"
A whole set of listing items appeared in front of Aiven but he was not interested in any of them right now. He waved his hand and motioned for the crafting items, tinkering with a perpetual black box on his lap which was handed to him a while ago by Maou-chan.
Thirty-four (34) Basic Sewing Tools.
Each sewing tools have thirty single-point needles and three Darners. It also has threads, thimble, but he set that aside too. What he needed were needles. Aiven started pulling each out and placing it on his new inventory bracelet.
So at most he had a thousand single-point and a hundred darners remaining in their whole party's inventory. Each Sewing Tool Kit costs ten silvers. He had actually purchased ten gold worth of Sewing Kits, and now all that remains was three gold and forty silver worth of crafting materials.
It will do, for now. He thought.
Single-points were the typical needles used for the tailoring craft. Darners were much more special since they can be used in different crafting methods but since he has no technical know-how on using them, he used them the same way he would a normal needle before he had the sense to identify the difference.
Ugh, what a waste. The nagging regret that he should have bought more from Cirque was grating. He had only hoarded with the thought of how it'll be advantageous for them to have lesser interactions with anyone, particularly to merchants, when their party should trust no one. Merchants, after all, are very good at gossiping, so he had decided to avoid them as much as possible. At that time, it was a good call.
Still, he lost the rest during the fight between Simos and his father. Not really a time to mourn at spilled milk, but still...those lost needles would have been a great help at this moment. Placing it aside, and after checking his equipment, he finally checked his status.
He had ignored his status since the start of their mission and dreaded what he might find there. But he has to face the truth. There was no substantial difference aside from the loss of items but his eyes focused on the small section on the status window. Expanding it, he started to read.
Tailoring Skill/s:
Basic Skill Set I: Repair [Lvl 1]
Repair on basic textile-based equipment (robes, hats, gloves, boots) of same skill level.
Basic Skill Set I: Dismantle [Lvl 1]
Dismantling basic textile-based equipment (robes, hats, gloves, boots) of same skill level.
Intermediate Skill Set II: Needlework [Lvl 2]
Precision in handling needles. Can now pierce through thick leather materials.
Basic Skill Set III: Acupuncture [Lvl 1]
Minor Heal [+8 health points]
Acquired Title:
Butcher of Silk Button [Deranged IV]
You have used your craft against life. The foulest act that can be done by any artisan. You have failed as a crafter.
Effects:
+200% infamy
+200% increase in damage dealt using Sewing Tools
+5% higher chance in crafting failure
+crafted items shall not be acknowledge by any of the crafting guilds
+crafted items shall not be accepted by any merchant guilds
Combat Craft +156
Infamy:
[Stigma] 4300
Effects:
+ 43 Aura of Aggravation (Aggro Lvl 4)
+ 43 Aura of Animosity (Negative Lvl 4)
o Civilians will find you suspicious and will avoid you
o Children and babies will cry at your presence
o Establishments will scorn you and chase you away
o In combat, foes shall focus their attacks on your presence
o In combat, levels lower than 1% of your over-all level shall flee from your presence
A low sigh can be heard from Aiven, this doesn't look good. Okay, so he was not really planning on taking tailoring seriously as a job, but not being able to craft normally right off the bat was a gut-wrenching disadvantage. And that title...he was not even starting his crafting yet and he was already banned for life!?
When the Sila-ir private army started committing suicide, which was what they technically did when they started using high-tier magic at the mana-liquidized induced area, he started to realize something. With [Status Analysis] he could see the tickling down of health of most of the people around him. When they passed on a burnt knight, barely flatlining, he studied him carefully and embedded a needle through the anterior fontanelle of his brain to end his life. And just like when he gave ear piercings to Simos, the knight's health dropped and his stats increased. Aiven saw his chance, he continued looking for the fallen, those who were on the doors of death. He bid his time and on just at the right moment, would release his needles. There were times when he gets it, there were times when he doesn't. It took a lot of practicing on his part to get it right and lost too much of his inventory in the process. Eight out of ten needles hit its mark but that doesn't mean it has the correct damage to its targets.
And now, here he is, with huge infamy in his name. The unsavory way he killed—using his craft, almost doubled the infamy he received compared to Simos since he did actually claimed most of the deaths tonight.
Killed by a single needle. He can't do that yet, but maybe he could one day. He had to sacrifice his craft in the process but he had to do something! The idea actually came from some news he heard. It was used for infanticides in China, with their one-child policy and all, it's really a common and a very effective method. The practice was not new, extensive report was seen in Germany in the 1900s and dated even as far back as the Persians...or was it Syria? Was there even Syria as a country? Probably. He really can't be sure.
Damn, he cursed at how his thoughts became were scattered again. His old-world knowledge was turning more and more mixed up and foreign for him.
Shaking away from textbook memories, he could see the ground getting closer to them.
When he scouted the area, he can't help but be so aware of the growing darkness all around them. An Undead Army composed of [lesser undead] with a hundred [Lich Familiars], were waiting for them. The aura was tense. What he saw were hundreds of undead kneeling in front of them in a kept row that segregates each faction. Undead Skeletons, Undead Warriors, some Blood Corpses, to name a few.
And they all address me as Master. It was not the future he had foreseen but he could still feel a little excited and a bit...worried.
How could they even support all of them? Undead don't eat but how about their other sustenance? Equipment maintenance? The transport itself would be a hassle. Maybe he could use the black box, but will they fit?
"Hey, what are you thinking?" Simos asked
"Monthly maintenance cost," he stated in a beat. The effort of unlearning his silent communication resulted mostly in Aiven having no breaks whatsoever on his replies. But the clumsy transition seems to have no effect on his companions.
"Hah! Confident, aren't we? That, we'll last that long?" Simos smirked but his expression immediately turned sober when he directed his gaze at where Aiven was looking at. The expanse of Delica's forces was overwhelming for their party, but the two of them knew it wouldn't be enough. "Two Banners, Bronze with a thousand heads and Gold having twice that number. We'll also be on the defensive if we want to save anyone..." which is a massive toll to take.
A pause. Simos left the words unsaid.
Aiven glanced at Simos and he could clearly see how young their leader looked. He also noticed the Runic Communicator lost from his ears after the healing. As expected, all wounds were healed when using health potions including their ear piercings. No wonder these sorts of accessories haven't been invented yet. He still has to work on it—maybe he could use anti-magic matter, some heal negating runes. But it could overlap on the runes already installed for communication.
Noticing his mind drifting again, Aiven chastised himself and focused on the matter at hand. That was when he also noticed how Simos has been placing his hand on his left leg and knowing what he went through, Aiven can't blame him. He doesn't look scared but Simos was not stupid to jump into a situation without knowing the consequences.
"We'll survive," And that was all that Simos needs to hear and laughed. He was back to his loud self as he reports to Maou-chan and Delica their side of the mission. Aiven already heard from Delica the girl's end of the mission, so he already started thinking of how to survive this pincher.
The dragon landed on the outskirt of the manor. They helped the girls down from the dragon which already lowered its body and neck for them to get off easier.
Everyone stood and greeted them, "Welcome back, Your Highness and Masters. All Hail the Maou!"
"All hail the Demon Queen!"
And on the front were aligned with different races that seem so out of place and yet they seem to belong in the group. All the [Lich Familiars] stand out on their own. Especially since they have the look of fresh corpses (and not the typical rotting skeletons on the back), they also share the grey marbled skin with Delica.
When he saw the undead closely, his breath caught, then paled.
No. No. No. No. This can't be happening. He abruptly faced Delica and with strained face and shaky fingers, pointed at her so-called 'babies'.
"Eh? Is something the matter Aiven?" Delica titled her head in innocence.
"Why are they...beautiful?" not even bothering whether he lost mana.
"Well, thank you! Of course, they all are, you see..." she was blabbering with stars on her eyes as she list each and everyone of her familiars but he already stopped listening and proceeded in using his analysis skills on them himself.
Why were all of the Undead Familiars were amazingly...good-looking? They were so good-looking, the whole area looked like a cosplay convention back in his world. One faction was filled with bishounen, another was busty onee-sans, some bishoujos (are those meganes? nyan-cats?), and there were even lolis! A loli army...not really what he expects from their Army of Terror that they would unleash to purge their enemies. The plan brewing in his mind highly depends on the terror factor in this supposedly undead apocalypse set-up. And now he has to trash it and start from scratch. Does he even have the luxury of time? But no, it was his own miscalculations for not factoring in every aspect of their situations.
"To be praised by the Lesser Masters..."
"The Lesser Masters are pleased, as expected."
"Uwaaah, is the Lesser Master moved to tears..."
[They...were all...level 1?] He recast his [Analyze Skill Set V: Arcane Analysis] again and the same result happened. His knees almost gave out.
You have got to be shitting me.
Right. Right. They were [Familiars] and could be considered as pets in most RPGs, just newly summoned, of course, they always start at level one. Of course, they were only good as cannon fodder. If not probably with their numbers, they wouldn't have held against the battered fleeing humans who have lost all hope to survive.
And out of a hundred familiars, only sixty-two remains standing in front of them. He expected casualties, but to be halved? Within hours?... He shouldn't have expected much, but how pathetic was their stats? The rotting skeletons at the back who could barely stand could even out-leveled these [Familiars]. This was turning into one of those headaches. Aiven seriously needs to rehaul his whole plan of attack if they even want to survive with all their appendages intact.
A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
[https://scissorsnscribbles.files.wordpress.com/2014/08/img_20150628_075004.jpg?w=1120]
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On the other side of the greetings, a few minutes after the Masters have arrived, Ulna was shocked to hear something she has never thought she'll ever hear again.
"Why...are they...beautiful?" An amazed voice echoed throughout the battlefield. It was the first time they all heard his voice and if there was anything, it was thick. Thick as if mana was pouring at every syllable. They were silenced at once, unable to steer away from the commanding voice.
Don't tell me...
A necrophile! She has heard of men of such taste but to be of servitude to the likes of them...it spells hell for her and her companions. They have just been out of that pleasure house... Ulna's wings almost bristled in disgust. Mistress Delica seems to be fooled seeing how delighted she was at the dark-haired Master's 'interest' to them.
But she won't be fooled. Of all the four riders of Ilium, the boy who spoke gave off a bad feeling from the start. His dark looks, brooding contemplative face, and the way he carries himself already shows that he was a very dangerous person. Between the two Lesser Masters, it was obvious who was more suspicious.
And she knows that look. Ulna was clenching her fist as 'Master' Aiven ignored Mistress Delica and scanned her subordinates as if they were wares for his appraisal. The same disdainful looks she was so much accustomed to in her living memories in that pig house. And his gaze lingered where the triplets are.
A pedophile.
He's the worst, the worst! Filthy human! Don't you dare look upon my brethren with that dark eyes of yours!
"Ulna? Ulna!"
"Y-yes? Mistress? Ah right, as I was saying," her trance was easily broken with the words from her Mistress Delica. "The Arm unit has suffered great loss. We have also lost many of our manpower in breaking from the second and first layer of the Stronghold."
"Carpal, Phalange, Pubis, Cuneiform..." she continued listing the names even without seeing the report, "I am very much aware of our losses." Mistress Delica said, cradling the Eljudnir Staff closer to her with the tell-tale loss of gemstones from its crown, "their covenant shall remain with us. All forty-six of them."
That was when the dark-haired human went over to Mistress Delica and whispered on her ears. The Mistress suddenly turned childish, showing an optimistic grin towards the other Master.
"Yup, I could still summon them..."
"Of course I know that! I'm a lich! As long as their gemstones' with me..."
"Come on, stop skulking!...it's a pleasure house, our 'guests' like *whispers* their 'goods' to be appealing."
"What? That's discrimination towards beautiful men! Do you know how hard it was to be beautiful? The diet, genes, breeding itself cost..."
He was too close. Too close for comfort with his hand almost brushing Mistress' cheeks which somehow infuriates Ulna.
"Yeah right, you could even borrow them if you want. You know, practice your lack of social intercourse and..."
Then the Master Aiven started pinching Mistress Delica's cheeks. "Guuwaaahhh, awoww, I give, I give!" Their one true creator pleading in front of them for the sake of her harrassed cheeks.
To be humiliated! Who does this bastard think he is!
When their exchange was over, they could see Master Aiven teasingly poking Mistress Delica as she massaged her cheeks. Then Aiven produced some honey caramel candies and gave it to their Mistress. He...is...briding her?
How dare him! Their Mistress would not fall for that...
The candy was snatched, and they could see the red-headed Lich nodding at everything Master Aiven whispers.
"M-mistress Delica?" Malar cautioned, Is this person really that strong that he could blatantly manipulate their Mistress and even toy with their loyalty?
A hand shushes her and Mistress Delica continued heeding to Master Aiven's counsel.
Not only her, but even the rest of her comrades were also seething with the clumsy way he interacts with their One True Creator. How fearless! To act so nonchalantly without any respect at all to their Mistress in front of the whole [Demised] who would not hesitate to rip his fragile skull the moment their Mistress even hint of such command.
"Are you okay with this, I'm not really sure that could...Ah, I see. Should I tell them?... Are you sure?"
The dark-haired nodded, and Mistress started to address them, "My Summoned Ones! You have done well, as you all know, I present to you my fellow Guardians, Simos and Aiven." She beckoned the two and they presented them.
The blonde was quietly smiling, oblivious of the curious gaze from the Army, and awkwardly waved his hands. Then the Mistress Delica started to talk. "War is upon us."
"Our enemies are at the other side of the river, the other from the Lowly Mountains. we will set our base here. Aiven will lead the command central, and we would like to have a word with all units," Aiven nodded towards their Mistress and Delica started uttering a spell and with her staff, chanted [Bone Wall] and [Bone Cage].
A massive structure of skeletal frame appeared, creating a tent-like cavern. The frame emerged beneath their feet and separated the Masters and the Undead on the first rows who held the positions of all the units. [Bone Wall] was used as a foundation and on top was [Bone Cage] cast to create the ceiling.
That boy will lead us? What nonsense is this?
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Inside the spell-casted tent, stood the Masters with Her Highness Maou-chan and the four generals with their attendants.
In the middle of all this, Simos chanted [Earth Molding], and the floor started to compressed and evened with a tile-like pattern, creating a smooth floor. He cast it multiple times until there was a long table and some high chairs for all that was present.
"Now this is more like it," Simos remarked while offering a seat to Maou-chan. Aiven wanted to put off Simos for wasting mana, but stop himself. Looking at the Undead, he can't help but feel that the two of them were being judged by Delica's summoned. He already noticed it the moment he teased Delica. It was their normal taunt, that he forgot her position. As of now, Delica was a powerful Lich with hundreds of Undead following her. It was her, they were following, not them.
"Okay, let's start the meeting. I know we are pressed for time, but it wouldn't do to not have any introductions." Simos started. Maou-chan was on the center-end, on her right was Delica, and on the left was Simos while Aiven was standing in between her and the blonde.
The Undead continued to take their places at the other end of the table but didn't take a seat. The high chairs created by Simos were ignored.
They stood pridefully, making Aiven question how these beings even conceded to follow Delica. For him, Delica was just a kid! And the looks they give to them intimidate him more. The fact they all have lower levels compared to him didn't matter. They all look impressively powerful.
"No need," Aiven said."Waste time, we'll go with formalities when we can afford it."
"Not knowing our forces will waste not only time but our numbers as well," Ulna interrupted eyeing Aiven mercilessly. Emphasizing the word 'our' as if telling them how much of an outcast they were.
And as if reciting a cooking recipe, Aiven spoke while looking directly at each and every one of the Undead presents.
"Ulna, Bestial, Head of Right Arm [Vanguard] Unit, Third Class Undead, Level 3. Acromion, Bestial, Head of Left Arm [Reconnaisance] Unit, Third Class Undead, Level 1.
Lacrimal, Saegir [SeaPeople], Head of Skull [Command] Unit, Second Class Undead, Level 5. His attendant, Malar, Elven [Demon], Second Class Undead, Level 8.
Tarsus, [Dwarven], Head of Foot [Lower] Unit, Second Class Undead, Level 2. His attendant, Cuboid, Man, Second Class Undead Level 1.
Lamina, Elven [Pyro], Head of Torso [Main] Unit, Third Class Undead Level 1. With her attendant, Axis, Beastial, Third Class Undead Level 1."
Aiven listed all that was present and accurately declared their status. "Should I continue with the 29 Beastials, 12 Seafolks, 5 Elvens, 7 Dwarvens...and 1 Draconic outside?"
He was answered with silence.
Aiven ignored them and started whispering to Simos who was grinning at the stoic faces of the Undead, not really surprised at Aiven's pinpoint assessment."Yes, I know of it...will it survive?...WHAT? REALLY!?"
Simos' eyes turned wide in excitement and started to shout, "Count me in! I'm on it." Thankfully, Simos was oblivious at the passive-aggressive stints this Undead were doing. Good, Simos getting pissed was the last thing he needs right now. Simos started standing up but remembering his manners, he looked up to their audience and apologized, "Sorry, I need to go. I'll bring Ilium with me."
"My Mistress," a female Elven said, she has twin-tails held by braids and sharp cerulean eyes "Ilium is under my unit, just give me the command and he is yours at your behest."
Aiven knew what was happening. Even if they considered them as their Masters, the Undead still look towards their High Mistress. Their presence means nothing, making their authority as thin as air. He has to make them acknowledge them, he and Simos, without overstepping Delica's territory. He can't help but feel that there was racial and sexist discrimination going on but damn it, they have no choice but to work together.
Aiven shot Delica a knowing gaze, and Delica said, "what do you think, Aiven?" she purred, obviously making light of the power struggle happening above their heads.
"Only Ilium," Aiven gave his reply to Simos, bypassing the twin-tailed Elven.
"Sure, of course," Simos said, going after the entrance.
"Well then, Lamina?" Delica muttered.
The Elven bowed her head and her attendant, a small girl with six arms, proceeded to lead Simos outside to tell Ilium of his escort mission.
"If I may, what would Master Simos and Ilium's part?" Lamina asked.
"They'll help the Sila-ir Banner," Aiven replied as if it was nothing, busy taking out a book from his inventory.
The Undead began to protest, aiding the enemy they were just on the verge of annihilating does not settle well with them.
"You are all weak!" Master Aiven declared, "from here on out, you all answer to me...Let's be clear. I do not care about any of you. You could burn, melt right before me and I wouldn't blink. But if you cause any of 'us' to die, I will take great pleasure in erasing all pieces of your soul."
"Mistress, if I may be rude, may I give a beating to this ill-mannered youngling?" Acromion, a tiger-inherent beastial said glaring at Aiven.
"Oh, please don't be too hard on him."
"I wouldn't Mistress." Acromion grinned but it was short-lived with Delica's next words.
"I was talking to Aiven."
Confused at her words, Acromion assessed the lanky child whose only saving grace was the ominous aura from his dark stature.
Argh, what a nuisance.
It all happened in a split second.
Aiven start to move at a blinding pace that not one of the Undead noticed.
[Inventory]
1 Darner
1 Holy Water
Aiven pulled out a small needle from his inventory.
[Equipped Darner]
Target Client: Gigants
And the needle grew into a meter in length, Aiven tosses the holy water, strike it with the needle, the liquid coating the needle entirely. The Beastial was still following the broken flask mid-air and was trying to dodge. A diversion. It was pretty pathetic. His eyes moving from the holy water descending on his face and the dark-haired boy moving towards him. Master Aiven was fast, but not fast enough. Acromion's left was blocked by the earthen table. If he moves sideways, it was obvious the youngling will follow a counter, so his only option was to step back and see what this child will do next. Unlike Master Aiven, Acromion has no idea what class or skills he has. And Mistress Delica's words gave him a lasting impression to be cautious. But the moment he stepped backward, he felt something sticking behind his nape. But his momentum was already there. When Acromion stepped back, the force itself from his fast reflex was his downfall, as he impales himself from a needle.
Sticking right behind Acromion's nape, was Aiven with the Meter-long Darner.
The Undead only saw a flash and Aiven standing behind the Tiger Beastial, the needle already embedded under the Undead's skull.
"As I was saying, weak," Aiven concluded.
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