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Necromancer of Valor
Chapter 98 - The new me

Chapter 98 - The new me

Finding the cave proved to be a surprisingly high hurdle for the simulacrum. At first, he was only looking for a regular cave somewhere in the area and didn’t realize to check the water as well. After running around fruitlessly, he returned to the river to try a new approach to the problem. By following the edge of the flooded area for only about a hundred meters, he came to a small pool that was partly covered by a rock shelf. Despite the murkiness of the water, it was clear that the pool was far deeper than the water nearby and could very well be a cave that had flooded entirely. Wasting no time, the simulacrum stepped in and started descending into the dark, slimy water. Right as he was about to be entirely submerged, something grabbed King from behind and began dragging him back up from the water. He tried fighting back and ripping off whatever had wrapped around his body but couldn’t do anything to it nor resist the force of the pull at all. By the time he was on dry land again, he had been completely immobilized by the silvery-white strands of hair that gripped him firmly and found their way under the simulacrum’s armor plates and between his joints. When the pulling finally stopped, something pressed itself against King’s back and embraced him from behind.

“I’d take you with me, but I can’t do that to her. You’ll find Anastacia from behind that tree over there.” Someone whispered to him and the hair began to release its grip.

As soon as he could, King turned around, but there was nothing behind him. He swiped the air a couple of times to make sure, but whoever had whispered to him was now gone.

Just like the voice had said, King found Anastacia sleeping against one of the nearby trees; though slightly slimy, the necromancer seemed unharmed. King carefully picked her up and started making his way back to the town.

Even though her visit to the mortal plane had only taken a few hours, it was still a noticeable drain on her powers. Gods were supposed to stay in their own realm and mortals in theirs, so despite being able to move between them, it was extremely taxing. So much in fact that it was one of the main reasons Sylvia acted through her priestess as much as she could. The goddess of joy could only sustain herself with the faith and feelings of her followers and had to be careful when using her powers - but Vilja wasn’t limited by such things. While having followers would definitely be handy, she could always refuel herself by consuming physical things. This freedom was one of the things Sylvia had asked the other gods to consider when giving Vilja her new identity.

The forest she had created while still in her old form, had spread in every direction over time and now outgrew its original counterpart on the mortal realm. Ever since she had gained her powers, Vilja had slowly worked on it and changed it more to her liking. One day she hoped to add animals to it, but those weren’t within her capabilities and she would probably have to ask for help from someone. At one point, she had stolen a bird from the mortal plane, but the rules of switching planes were the same for everyone, so it didn’t take long for the bird to succumb to fatigue and become the first thing killed by Vilja as a god.

In the middle of the forest was a clearing she had made to use it as a base of operations. Filled with flowers of many different colors, it was the only place where Vilja had allowed the light to reach the ground instead of being blocked by the treetops. In this realm, the weather obeyed her whims, so she hadn’t bothered to build a shelter and just lied down on the bed of flowers whenever she felt like sleeping to pass time. It was also the place she had dragged Sylvia to, after the goddess of joy had been assaulted by the cultists. With her connection to her followers severed, Sylvia had to keep her efforts to a minimum and was basically bedbound.

“Was Emilia okay?” Sylvia asked when she heard Vilja’s steps nearby. “Did you see her?!”

“Angry and confused, but you worry too much. She could be blinded, deafened, poisoned, bleeding and missing an arm and still be able to fight off a few chumps no problem.” Vilja laughed at Sylvia’s concerns and lied down next to her.

“Oh no! She still had both of her arms, right?!” Sylvia gasped.

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“I mean… SHE does, but not everyone is as lucky. But like I said, you worry too much.” Vilja said and took out everything she had acquired on her visit: a pipe from Gilbert, a shard of metal from Emilia, a piece of stone from King and a fist-sized lump of meat. “I got the core like you asked, and honestly I feel like I saved it from me… from Anastacia just as much as I saved them from it. This poor thing was too terrified to even touch her. She's doing alright by the way, it would have been pretty funny to tell her the truth about me.” The lump pulsated and wiggled in her hand, like it was trying to escape. “What do we need this thing for again?”

Sylvia got up slowly and grabbed the lump. “We will grant its wish.” She said and smiled wearily. “And these? Gifts from your… followers?”

Vilja picked up the piece of stone and the metal shard. A few strands of her hair wrapped around them and then around her neck, forming a necklace. “Mementos – a collection. I’ll have to visit Valor to complete it.” She explained and lit the pipe.

Sylvia put her hand on Vilja’s head and gave it a pat. “Smart, it is good for a god to have something of importance in the mortal world; it keeps you from becoming indifferent to their existence – something more of us should have taken into account. My days among mortals are remembered with nothing but hatred and terror. I wish nothing more than to undo those times. And sadly, my tale is far more common than yours.” Sylvia smiled once more before lying back down among the flowers of the field.

Vilja leaned against her stomach and kept trying to figure out what was the point of smoking a pipe in the first place. “There is a single thing about becoming a god that I regret though. Why the fuck was I made even smaller than before? I wanted a bombastic body, so I could mess with people more!”

The goddess of joy chuckled. “I for one think this size suits you far better. Since you refuse to wear clothing so adamantly, this is far less scandalous. But the reason for your compactness would be your previous form. You were merely a copy of yourself, made by magic and far too fragile, we rearranged those pieces and formed something original. In a process like that, a few bits and pieces simply do not fit the puzzle and are thrown away.”

“The gods of racks and booty had no say in the matter? Bet those two would have some ideas for the spare parts!” Vilja groaned in frustration.

In truth, she had no regrets over volunteering to be a god. It hadn’t taken long for it to become clear that Sylvia’s efforts to return her to the mortal realm, with or without her original body, weren’t going to bear fruit, so her options were narrowed down to hiding from the other gods and waiting for her spirit to run out of energy and fizzle out or come out with it and volunteer to help Sylvia with her goals. Of course, the gods’ initial response to having another necromancer messing around in their plane was to destroy her, but Sylvia’s words did have some weight among them and they were more than ecstatic to hear that she had gotten rid of Alabaster’s lingering presence – enough so that she was eventually given the title she now had. Though having a necromancer as a god was still unacceptable to many, and the cost of her new position ended up being the complete sealing of her abilities as a necromancer. The being that used to be called Anastacia, saw this as a chance to rid herself of her past and immediately jumped at the opportunity without a second thought.

“Your unembellished words are truly a welcome change in our realm… Looks have very little weight here, so yours were most likely of no concern to anyone. But I do understand your annoyance, the mortal world judges many things solely by their appearance. Not a day goes by when I don’t weep for my chosen one, for she will never see her god. As I am, I would cause nothing but doubt in her heart if she were to see me.” The goddess of joy lamented.

“Bah! You look just fine, maybe a bit out of character but that’s all. We just need to remove the mask and the metal corset thingy and set you up with a nice vest or something.” Vilja said and knocked on Sylvia’s mask.

“These garments were burned into my bones ages ago. They are not to be removed. So let us stop with this miserable line of thought.” Sylvia sighed and made Vilja stop touching her mask. “This vile seal placed on me is weakening thanks to the death of the witch, but it will still take time for me to reconnect with my children, so would you be so kind as to allow me to rest for a while more?”

Vilja raised her hand to the sky and darkened it and to kill some time while her friend was resting, she added some stars into it to make it look more interesting. Satisfied with her work, the god of the unwanted took a walk around her realm and puffed her pipe in the silence. Having found a suitable tree, she walked up its trunk and sat down on the highest branch. The view over the forest that continued into the horizon was stunning, even the god that had created was left speechless for a while. “Damn… it’s too good. I don’t want it anymore.” She chuckled and grinned as massive fireballs began raining from the sky and wiped out large portions of the forest, just so she could make it again, but worse.