Zelnith rolled his eyes as the system retrieved the answer to his request.
NAME: ZELNITH
RACE: UNDEAD
AGE: PHYSICAL – 87 YEARS
AGE: SOUL -512 YEARS
STATUS: KIDNAPPED FROM PURGATORY
BLOOD PRESSURE – 180/120
Wait… blood pressure? This damn system made so little sense to Zelnith but it seemed to be correlated to his stress levels. After all, who’s blood pressure wouldn’t go up if their eternal soul was stolen by a damned, dirty necromancer. Hopefully he didn’t use his hands.
IQ – 217
IQ UTILIZATION - 62%, 145/217
Hold the phone. IQ… utilization?! What in the hell did that mean? He interrupted the system to get clarification.
IQ UTILIZATION IS THE REAL APPLICATION OF YOUR IQ COMPARED TO YOUR MAXIMUM POTENTIAL. KNOWLEDGE IS POWER. SEEK IT FURTHER.
Was it telling him what to do now? Zelnith bristled for some reason he couldn’t quite put his finger on; almost a sixth sense of who he was before being shoved in this corpse.
HP – 73% 330/453 WARNING: SEEK MEDICAL TREATMENT, BONE DUST, OR VISCERA.
Hmmm… strange. He seemed to be in relatively good health, as least, as healthy as a bag of bones can be. But he also had no reference point. He needed more data to determine the boundaries of his behavior. So far, he knew he must be more sturdy than his “comrades”. Their heads usually sailed clean off their shoulders from a single, solid blow.
MANA – 100% 49/49
A throat cleared itself behind him. Zelnith turned his gaze upon what must have been the necromancer. His acerbic tongue lashed the man deeply, making his discomfort over his imprisonment evident. The flesh sack opened it’s mouth to speak.
“Ah, yes, well, I am sorry about that. Usually, the souls I grab don’t retain any sense of self or sentience. This truly is quite the blunder. However, regardless of whomever you are, you are my servant and will follow my commands as such.”
Zelnith’s bloody bones seemed to glow in reflection of his anger. He marched towards his captor, preparing to slip an extra rib into the man. Suddenly, a crushing weight brought him to his knees and bowed his head, filling his sight with the shit and blood covered dirt.
“Dear me. Are we going to have a problem… what was your name again?”
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The skeleton steeled its resolve and forced a reply through whatever passed for a windpipe.
“Zel...nith...”
“Strange name. Oh well. Now, to business. Have you allocated your soul energy yet? I’ll have to reprimand you if you chose something I don’t want.”
Zelnith felt the unyielding force lift from his body. He queried the system but found nothing showed up when he mentioned soul energy. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Atherus blinked rapidly. “No matter. I just assumed given your bloody visage that you must have already spent at least some of it. Think of it as life essence. Most people use theirs to workout, or philosophize, or write silly stories. Whatever floats your boat I guess. You however, as my minion of course, and being undead, will put the energy towards… more useful avenues.”
Zelnith swung at the necromancer. The entire world crashed down upon him. At least, that’s how it felt as he was dropped fully to the ground and couldn’t move an inch.
“Don’t make me further educate you on that style of our relationship. You’re a slave, and I’m your master. No matter how much you struggle, I will win. My spell is what gave you life. I have complete control over you so you might as well get used to it.”
Teeth gnashed as the reply came forth. “I didn’t expect you to react so quickly. Now I understand. I’m your pet. You’ll give me more leash so long as I do your bidding.”
“Exactly. Think of it as a parent and a child if it makes your condition feel better. I’m simply trying to educate you in what’s best for you. Sometimes that means pain for you, but it’s for the best in the end.”
As the dark caster finished that particular point, he took out a flask and downed a few quick swigs. He smacked his lips before continuing. “Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. Refreshing. Shame you can’t experience that anymore. Now where was I? Right! Your ongoing learning. I command you to spend all of your excess soul energy on spiked armor. I want to see my foes defeat themselves as they try to kill my champion.”
The skeleton’s body suddenly sprouted shards of splintered bone all over it, grinding together noisily at first. The pieces chipped where needed and before he knew it, Zelnith was the ghoulish equivalent of those spine pigs from the south.
System, what the hell just happened?
YOU RECEIVED A DIRECT COMMAND FROM THE NECROMANCER THAT SUMMONED YOU. YOU ARE OBLIGATED TO ACT IMMEDIATELY IN ANY WAY NECESSARY TO CARRY OUT THE TASK.
Yeah… I got that. But what actually happened? I didn’t do anything and suddenly I can’t sit down without skewering myself.
RETRIEVING SE MENU…
A huge menu appeared to him after a moment. Sprawling nodes of information filled his mind, expanding into more options the closer he examined any particular one. Highlighted slightly beyond the rest, he focused on a node that said “Adaptive Spike Armor”.
ADAPTIVE SPIKE ARMOR – BONE FORMS RAPIDLY IN RAZOR SHARP SPINES ALL OVER THE BODY. THESE BREAK IN STRATEGIC LOCATIONS TO ALLOW FULL MOVEMENT AND PREVENT SELF HARM. UNLUCKILY FOR FOES, THIS ARMOR WILL SHRED ANYONE FOOL ENOUGH TO FIGHT YOU.
It seemed like a pretty darned good evolution of his new body, though he hated to admit that to himself. Zelnith still hated the control, the freedom, to choose being taken from him. He mentally noted a few nodes to re-examine later. “I think I understand the lay of the land a bit better. What would you have of me?”
His captor smiled broadly, showing a toothy grin like that of a hunting cat that’s trapped its prey. “Why, I would have everything from you.”