Undead were somewhat impervious against melee and magic attack. Numbers do not lie, but there's a difference from seeing it and actually feeling the stats up close.
Acromion started to spasm. He was very much alive. Alive in the sense that he still has bodily functions.
Aiven could feel the weight of its body, pressing against the metal, the muscles tensing at his mana-filled Darner.
He can't really underestimate a Third Class familiar, casting a side-long glance at the other Undead who were no longer loosely watching at the sideline, Aiven started to understand where their arrogance came from. He even needed to cast [Flint] towards his Darner to create a heated holy water just to break Acromion's reinforced skin. And all those work he put on his attack only to just slashed 30 of its health...
30! That was against the 800 base health this Undead Beastial have. If it was a normal human, the same attack would have caused 180 damages, if his luck held out.
But he was not aiming to kill, no, that would be too easy.
Aiven wants to obliterate Acromion--in a single decisive move.
Forcing me to talk so much!? Do they know how much mana I consumed!? My precious mana! They would suffer, oh how I will make them all suffer.
The needle went just like butter and penetrated beyond Acromion's neck. There was something different about this compared to the long-range and spell-range attacks he had done so far. This long piece of metal, puncturing a wound over Acromion's neck makes everything more real, more intimate.
Seeing the sharp end of the Darner, almost going as far as making his head sitting in the middle of the giant needle, Acromion mind froze.
At the tip of Aiven's weapon was his [Soul Gem]!
A single black gem, sharply cut in roughed but smooth transitions, pulsating with dark wisps of miasma hangs at the tip of Aiven's Darner.
He cannot believe his eyes. The others were just as astonished. Seeing a [Soul Gem] exposed was just as deadly as seeing your living body torn in the open.
Then a splash. The holy water Acromion was trying to dodge a second ago hit him straight on. He let go of a groan, not able to scream with Aiven's weapon still lodged in his esophagus. The front of his torso and face began to melt. His exposed [Soul Gem] took a critical hit. Shredding the protective coating and dealing a quarter of damage from his life force.
But that doesn't mean Acromion can't fight back. Aside from the coating, his [Soul Gem] was still intact. The Darner might have been able to expose his [Soul Gem] but it didn't even leave a mark, showing the disparity of their class. And his Mana was still full.
So what's keeping Acromion from taking his [Soul Gem], took out the flimsy Darner, and proceed to give a beating to this ill-mannered youngling?
The answer? The answer was the status window hovering infront of him that was conveniently shared with Aiven.
A sinister grin tugged at Aiven's lips.
Contract Accepted
Item Received from Acromion, Demised Undead
You have successfully obtained Third Class Undead Soul Gem
Running Initial Assessment
Darner Specification [Client: Gigants] do not match.
Do you wish to change Darner settings?
Change SettingContinue
You have chosen to continue.
Please pick the next course of action.
Repair [Command Revoked]
Unable to repair due to incompatible crafting tool
Unable to repair due to invalid item craftDismantle
If an Undead could sweat, Aiven swear Acromion would be pouring buckets by now. [Soul Gem] were Arcane Items, they could easily be repaired or dismantled. With his current Tailoring Class, he has no jurisdiction to tamper with these type of items. Also it was two class higher than his current one which was just Beginner Tailoring [Initial Class] and with his 5% fail ratio, it was plain as day that his [Dismantle Skill] would flop.
DISMANTLE FAILED
Skills unmatched
Crafting tools unmatched
-2% Success Rate [-5% Failure Rate]
Cancel
Continue
Acromion flinched at the next notification and visibly tensed.
DISMANTLE FAILED
Skills unmatched
Crafting tools unmatched
-0.5% Success Rate [-5% Failure Rate]
Cancel
Continue
"S-stop it." Aiven could almost feel him begging for mercy, but it wasn't enough. He has to dominate, break him if needed. Not just physically but also mentally so he could be of use for them.
Aiven's smile darkened, "Do you know what happens to failed Dismantled Items?" Aiven whispered to Acromion, relishing the fear surging from this arrogant familiar.
DISMANTLE FAILED
Skills unmatched
Crafting tools unmatched
Warning: Basic Skill Set Failure
Will result to Dismantled Item
Cancel
Continue
They. Get. Destroyed.
Acromion's eyes widened and with quiet acceptance, his body finally limped lifelessly.
There was no way for him to survive. Just a single command from Aiven and he would seize to exist and with it the Undead Beastial reluctantly raised both his palm facing the sky, showing a sign of defeat.
Their spectators were all stunned. They can't believe that Acromion, the hot-blooded leader of the Left Arm Unit who was known for his unyielding rampage would admit defeat within seconds towards their Lesser Master.
Aiven backed away, smiling triumphantly while retreating his Darner. And the [Soul Gem] returned to its rightful owner.
Then something unexpected appeared.
Transaction Cancelled
Thank you, for your patronage.
Penalty Fee: 5 coppers
Acromion glares intensified, filling his eyes with fire that was already snuffed out just moments ago. The Undead tsked in annoyance and spit out the clotted miasma from his throat. His wounds starting to close. "Good one...Master Aiven" he replied while tossing some change towards Aiven.
Aiven caught the coppers and was just as speechless as the Undead seeing the unprecedented scene. His first client.
The path to his class have turned a very twisted road, Now Aiven feels like a bully asking for lunch money! This was not what he wanted. If it wasn't for his class, he wouldn't have a trump card against all the [Undead] surrounding him. He changed the Darner in its default setting and was confused at the gasps coming from the Undead.
"It's the needle."
"Kyahh, p-pinholes~ I've been looking for you~"
"Impossible!"
"Are those..?"
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But just like with everything he finds irritating, he ignored them. And just accepted his fate that he'll never have a normal career. It would have made a nice cover-up--a lowly tailor.
He shifted his first pay-out in his fingers before silently placing it in his inventory. With a bubbly lich, an ekemen god-blood, a holy sealed demon lord, and now an Undead Bishie Army. He was the only normal person in the group that could go into towns and cities without raising any alarm bells. Now he couldn't get a meter close without babies shrieking their eyes out.
He sighed and notice Delica and Maou-chan laughing at the other end of the meeting table. A sympathetic smile glowing from Delica as her summoned continued lamenting over something he couldn't understand.
When he next looked at them, the Undead straightened and there were fear in their eyes, except for Ulna who was still glaring at him and Acromion who was now smiling at him approvingly.
Does he need to beat all of them to gain their trust?
Argh, I really wanted to take a bath! Badly!
He went to his usual position, opened the book and stretched one of its pages until it covers the whole table.
Don't show any weakness. Don't show any weakness.
He repeated in his head. On the page were the glyphs Delica created with the Sila-ir Estate 3D model. And with hardly any delicacy at all, he started to tear out pieces of the glyphs.
The tearing of parchment upon parchment resounded heavily in the room, it created a vast emptiness as the Undead Generals strain their ears to the ripping sound of something being torn apart, until the image reflects the broken exterior of the mansion, reminding them all too clearly of who caused the massive destruction outside.
Contented, Aiven took out a bar of chocolate and started eating it. He could feel the Undead getting unnerved, but he doesn't care.
They could watch all they want! It was their fault from the start!
With each bite, he slide in some mana pills trying so hard not to make anyone notice his exhausted mana pool.
"Now, shall we begin?" he continued.
He would be needing a lot of chocolates.
----------------------------------------
Half an hour later, Aiven was left in the make-shift command center. He was so thankful for Simos for making it more comfortable. He was currently with three [Lich Familiars]. 12 Mindless Undead were stationed outside. And another 24 further creating an encirclement, they were tasked to signal if they spot anything suspicious.
He placed his hand on Malar's shoulder. The Demon Elf has been activating his [Support Arts: Observer] during the whole operation.
Four discs made of translucent water were floating above the 3D scale model of the whole estate. Each disc shows different angles from the Undead's perspective. Every [Demised] were granted with their own [Familiar Arts], in Malar's case, he has the ability to pick one perspective from his brethren and transfer it to the disc-shape mirrors. He was only able to produce two, but Aiven forced him to create twice the number he was capable of. Malar's eyes were shut tight as he concentrate. Two slits for additional eyes have emerged on his forehead. Creating two pairs of unopened eyes already tearing with miasma. Obviously from the additional burden.
One disc shows the scenery from the Undead Scout at the Riverbanks, taking note of the current situation of the Lion Gold Banner. There were mostly knights and cavalry. With some foot soldiers marching in. As of now, they were in the bottleneck trying to cross the bridge leading to their current location.
Another was at the western hills called Lowly Mountains, catching glimpse of the ongoing ascent of the Rust-Iron Bronze, mostly made of warriors and infantry.
With the provisional armies mandated to the Banner Nobility, Bronze Banners could only deploy 1000 heads, while the Gold Banners could utilize twice that many without breaking their [Sigil] to the Regalia.
Sila-ir House kept up by adding mercenaries, booming their numbers to almost three thousands. It helps that they have the means to feed such numbers.
"Change. Three hours. Before landing on territory. Gold." Aiven said, showing that the Gold would be breaching the manor within two hours instead of five, when the infantry started to move, braising the cold waters even with the river's tide. There has been no heavy rains for months, so he anticipated this move.
There was no dam upstream, so he could not use the typical tactic of creating artificial flood. Still, he doesn't want to wipe out the Lions. He has plans for them.
The other two familiars with him were also under the Skull Unit, they have been updating the glyph with the precise instructions from Aiven. They're not that important so Aiven started to call them shorty and ponytail, for apparent reasons.
"Mistress Delica is already on the Lowly Mountains with the majority of the Arm, Torso and Foot Unit." Ponytail declared, showing the disc to Aiven.
"Slow," Aiven activated his rune communicator. He created another set, only this time, it was more of a clip on, almost covering the entirety of the ear and hooking itself on the cleft. "Delica, move within ten minutes on the summit. Now."
"Ehh! But that's impossible. There is still a quarter blockade before us! Do you know how hard it is to reach its peak withuot any carriage aside from the limited Dulluhans and Sleipnirs. We were an Undead Army! The rotting skeletons and corpses does not help in our speed as well as those..." Delica continued to explain with her voice raising in decibel at each passing seconds but then she stopped when she realized that Aiven hasn't spoken a single word. He can't hear anything from the rune communicator until an exasperated voice breathed out a monotone, "sure, got it. We'll be there in nine. Satisfied?" then he deactivated.
His two Undead assistants was stuck agape at their exchange--or specifically the lack of it.
If she can't do it then fine, their plans will adjust. But claiming the summit before the Bronze would was essential for it.
"Simos, info on your neighbors." Aiven spoken in the after shifting the communicator. The rune circles have not stop hovering beside Aiven's ear.
Aiven shifted his gaze to the third disc where Simos is.
The third disc hovered just across the Manor. It shows the refugees and survivors, as they continued on track to the Bridge. The estate was surrounded by mountains and The Woods with unknown monsters. The only accessible area for them to escape the Undead Encroachment was through the stone bridge where the Lions were waiting.
Aiven could see only a few battalion of knights and a squad with a handful of mages. There were hundreds of servants and villagers trying to runaway with them.
If they continue moving, they would be easily slaughtered by the Lions.
But that was the least of their problems. Because right now, an Undead Dragon was attacking the remaining Sila-ir household.
He could see screaming and panic ensuing on all of the people's faces, but that was not all. Because the one fighting the dragon was a lone knight, clad in a Golden Armor and swinging a flaming sword.
The disc zoomed in to the knight and just across the knight's helm, a rune suddenly appeared.
"Busy," Simos voice strained and grunts can be heard with the slashing of metals. "I've already told you...grrgh...about their military and ranks!"
"Motives."
"What? Oi! What Aiven?"
"Motives."
"How the blazes should I know!?" Then there was a pause before Simos was panting on the other side, "Is it even important! Should have asked me earlier!"
Like hell! You were skimpering the very moment you returned with Ilium and was off before I could get anything substantial!
Aiven already have a guess but it was better to be sure. Long nights with these two covered conversations that ranges from the latest magical devices from the Training Grounds, and even the rankings from the Banner Tournament. Their neighbours were also one of those chance topics.
Simos didn't wait for any replies since he knows Aiven will not give him one.
It was really nice to have friends like them. Aiven doesn't need to word everything out which was a plus for him. Just subtle signs and they already know what Aiven was talking about. Really mana-conserving.
And it looks like Simos got the family heirloom. It seems to be undamaged even after the explosion. The [Golden Haphaestus Armor] and [Phoenix FlameSword]--the fire and the legendary monster, a glaring contrast to the petite docile symbol of their house.
These Ancient Items were greatly linked to Canary Gold that anyone who sees him will immediately connect him to House Sila-ir. Simos wouldn't even touch it if Aiven didn't told him he could get to fight the dragon. The moment he whispered those, Simos just jumped right in, no questions asked.
Simos' audience seems captivated with his fight to the dragon that they started cheering and casting support to their savior.
"The Lions are our cousins. Long removed, third line probably? Fourth? They should have been neutral. They did try to annex our--annex the houses but they cutoff when the Canary had its dark ages."
Then the knight was flung in the air, but was recovered instantly with air spells.
"Sir Dalen must be itching for our downfall."
Sir Dalen? The Lions? Looking at the disc showing the Lion Gold Banner, Aiven could see all the bannermen proudly carrying their flags. The color has been that of plain gold with hardly any designs. Even the characteristic Lion was not shown aside from the front Banners. Two thousand strong gleaming of the majesty of the Banner of Gold. Even their equipment have golden sheen.
Just the Gold.
"What else? Um, right. The Rust-Irons." Simos continued, "they still probably, maybe, have a grudge when Father married one of their own, declared her dead and was seen sold on some obscure whorehouse."
Aiven could hear an audible sigh, "Hah, nothing less from Father."
Whoah, that's heavy. No wonder they scream bloody murder! Now this, he doesn't know. Aiven can even imagine the Banner celebrating while the manor turns to ashes! They probably here to see it up close.
Aiven can't help peek at the other Disc Monitor. Watching the greatswords, longswords and some spears already unsheathed as the Rust-Iron warriors march, Aiven can't help but shiver. And maybe to make sure no one survived.
Passionate people were not the kind of people Aiven wants to get involve with. Too emotional. Especially if they think they have the right for it. And they do talk too much for their own good.
"Master Aiven," Ponytail said.
He only looked at her, trying to tell her she has his attention. But the Undead didn't speak. Exasperated, he motioned his hand for her to continue. Ponytail started to shift her weight and looked at her companion before she went two steps nearer to him, misunderstanding his hand command for her to come closer, but she still didn't spoken a single word.
Argh, this was getting stupid.
Before he could stop himself, he already placed his free hand on his lips, then stops himself midway. Right, she wouldn't know the normal hand signals. He really miss not interacting with anyone besides his friends. So wasteful!
"Talk," he said finally.
Ponytail was startled into alert and stuttered. "Skull L-Lacrimal is a-a-already on the last level of the Catacombs, the Serpent Vent. He wants to convey his message..."
Ponytail's [Spell Arts: Mind Grafting] lets her hear telekinetically anyone of their brethren with her link. One of them was Lacrimal, the pink octopus guy.
Aiven waited but Ponytail just stood there, as if waiting for his approval for her to continue.
Gugh, really really wasteful!
"Continue!" he shouted.
"Hiiii! Apologies! He said he wants to hang your intestines as curtains! I'm sorry!" Ponytail's posture shattered and she she started shivering in fright.
I DON'T HAVE TIME FOR THIS! She can't even get what he wants to say! And you're telling me this blubbering mess could read minds!?
"And Maou-chan?" he continued interrogating her mercilessly, Shorty already moved towards Ponytail and try to calm her.
Upon hearing his inquiry, Shorty looked at him straight in the eye and replied on Ponytail's behalf, since she was the one who actually made Ponytail make the report, "Vomer also wants to report on Her Highness safe passage to the Catacombs. Skull Lacrimal has not lost one escort during the descent."
Who was Vomer? Well, enough of that. He already knew Maou-chan and the rest of the Skull Unit was on the Catacombs right now. One of the Disc Monitors have been on Maou-chan without any glitch. Though unfortunately, he wished it could also transfer sounds. It would have made everything easier.
They would need Maou-chan on the Vent. He would have prefferred it if he escorted her himself or locked her with him, especially knowing she was with that Lacrimal.
But he would need Maou-chan to be as far away from the battlefield as possible. Monitoring Spells and Skills were two-edged sword. It was the most traceable magic in existence, making this central command a looming tower that could be seen from miles.
Anyway, the Serpent Vent was the safest place she could be since it was the main source of miasma for the Undead Army, making it the most dangerous and poisonous place. With her current body she'll be fine--unfortunately it was under that octopus' jurisdictions. That creepy guy that makes him shiver. A Seafolk with race of the Saegir, half sea creature-half man. In Lacrimal's case a half-octopus. Everytime those slimy tentacles move, it just creeps the hell out of him, it probably has to do with all the tentacle-inspired rated 'stuff' in his old world.
Moving away from unnecessary thoughts, Aiven continued scanning the Disc Monitors.
Four Disc.
One disc on the Gold, there seems to be no change at all.
Another on the Lowly Mountains showing the imminent clash between Rust-Iron and the majority of the [Undead Army].
The third with Simos battling Ilium.
And the last one was with Maou-chan.
All the pieces were now in places. Wonder how his companions' acting skill are? After all, they were going to start a play.
----------------------------------------