“RETURN!”

Bancroft’s echoing command reverberated through Sean’s entire body. That one, single word became as all-encompassing as if the night sky had collapsed all around him. It shuttered his vision, shuttering him in total darkness and causing the death mana holding his reanimated bones together to ripple as if it had been struck. The gelaton fell to his knees, unable to stand. He clutched his throbbing skull, a soundless, clattering scream tearing its way out of his fleshless throat and his mind.

“Rrraaaaaahhhhh!?!”

For a second, Sean almost blacked out. He almost succumbed to the tidal wave of control the necromancer was buffeting him with. But if he did, the gelaton knew that this one task would not be the last. Because Bancroft was not just telling him to return to the mansion.

He was ordering Sean to return to the fold. To become the man’s minion once more.

To be an eternal, undying slave to the very man who had killed him.

That thought struck something deep inside Sean, and the tidal wave of control was rebuffed by an upsurge of pure, icy rage. The gelaton was not versed in necromancy. He could only muster a single word of response back to the one calling him through this temporary connection.

One word into which Sean poured all of his defiance, all of his newly evolved mental capabilities, and all of his hate for the vile bastard who had forcibly dragged him here. The very same vile bastard who was now trying to drag him back.

“NO!”

It wasn’t just a simple refusal. As Bancroft’s former minion, Sean felt a foreign, though powerfully compelling, desire to give in. To listen to the order he was being given. To obey. The urge was so strong it overwhelmed the gelaton’s attempt to defy its one-time master. Dark mana, both similar and dissimilar to Sean’s own, began to curl around his bones like restraints.

It happened so smoothly, and so swiftly, that it was as if his resistance had been both expected and planned for. Sean watched in horror as what looked like ghostly chains of ethereal black mana slowly began to link themselves together around both of his wrists. His thoughts began to grow sluggish as they formed, and though his own strength never truly left – it felt like it was leaving him.

“No, no, no!” Sean cried out in his mind, straining to wrench the chains apart – but it was no use. The necromancer’s magic was too strong, even over what had to be a ridiculous distance separating the two of them. Struggle and try as he might, the gelaton couldn’t break his new bonds.

Or at least, this half of him couldn’t.

A crimson whip of condensed slime lashed through the ghostly chains, dispersing the mana forming them into black mist that immediately began to drift aimlessly away. A second later, a familiar voice entered Sean’s mind.

“Oh, no you fucking don’t!” Gel roared in indignation, the slime joining his own will and much more formidable mental prowess to Sean’s. “Keep your bland, flavorless fingers off of my friend’s bones!”

Though Sean couldn’t rightly form words in this state, he didn’t have to. His deep bond with the slime made them unnecessary. Together, the two of them joined their efforts and shoved back at the necromancer’s attempt at control with everything they had. Gel’s mental stats were not much higher than Sean’s own, but with the two of them combined… and with the slime was every bit as pissed off as he was… the upsurge of defiant rage the pair evoked quickly evolved into a hurricane of belligerent fury.

They would not return. They would not submit themselves to this bastard’s will no matter how much mana the necromancer threw at them.

And they would never give in.

The gelaton’s dual minds came together on this one point, united in purpose, and when their hurricane of refusal shot back at Bancroft – the pair sent another message back with it. Just as the necromancer had done with his earlier message, only this one was not sent via any sort of language, merely through intent.

An intent infused with their desire to not only resist the necromancer, but to consume him utterly. To devour every aspect of his being, every fraction of his knowledge, and every asset, morsel, and inch of land the necromancer had ever claimed… and to make it their own.

By any means necessary.

…

There was a pause through the connection, and the tidal wave of control hesitated for only a moment. Surprise flickered through the shared, temporary connection linking them back to Bancroft. Then alarm. Whether the emotions were because of the content of their message or the sheer, sudden mental strength backing Sean’s second attempt at refusal – the pair couldn’t tell.

But whatever it was, it was enough.

A sound like harsh static filled the space of Sean’s mind, and then it went out. He felt the tenuous link Bancroft had tried to use to bind them together fall apart as it did, and more wisps of dark mana rose up from all around him. Instantly, Sean’s vision returned to him with startling clarity. His strength and bodily autonomy returned as well. The gelaton looked down at the cave dirt he had at some point fallen to and despite what had just happened to him, he marveled at what he saw.

Blackened runes and sigils in a script Sean didn’t recognize covered the earth around him in three wide, overlapping circles. Each had been burned into the dirt, and yet even now began to dissipate as he watched. Dark tendrils of mana, a mirror of those from before, wafted up into the air from each of the runes, creating a semi-transparent and short-lived fog surrounding him.

“What… in the abyssal hells was that?” Sean asked as his faculties began to return to him.

The gelaton picked himself up off the ground, both relieved and surprised that so much pain could disappear all at once. He watched the sigils in the dirt vanish as if they had never been there, and even though it threatened a headache Sean tried to commit at least a few of them to memory before they winked out. It hurt to do so, but he felt like he had succeeded, if only partially.

The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

If rune-magic is a thing people are going to be using against me, then I’m damn sure going to turn it back on them.

Sean’s brief attempt at a distraction from the ordeal he had just been through – more of an internal defense mechanism to allow his mind to process than anything else – was soon interrupted. Though he hadn’t expected a real answer, the slime living both inside and alongside him provided one anyway.

“Bancroft.” Gel all-but-spat. “Sorry, I didn’t catch what was going on right away, not until you reached out for help, but it looks like that tacky sack of meat finally gave up on trying to kill us and wants us back.”

“Oh, he’ll get us back alright.” Sean said with true vehemence. “He’ll get our collective fist right back up his short-bearded ass!”

“Or we could stick our axe up there.” Gel offered. “We still have that silver dagger around here too, somewhere. Could make it a whole event!”

“Sure.” Sean agreed, his undead nature already beginning to smooth out the fire of indignant rage burning within. “Sure, yeah… I’m a fan of the ‘all-of-the-above’ option for him, but we can get to that later. I’ve got a more important question.”

“What’s that?” Gel asked, as Sean cracked his neck to the side in a motion that was starting to feel like the undead equivalent of taking in a calming breath.

“How did he do that? And even more importantly: can he do it again?”

Gel paused, clearly pondering the question.

“Because if he can do it again–” Sean continued, walking over to retrieve the silver dagger that had fallen out of their pack. “-- then we need to make eliminating him our number one priority. If he tries something like that again while we’re in an actual battle instead of just cleaning up after one, then we’re both going to die.”

“I don’t think he can do it again.” Gel said after a moment. “Or at least, I don’t think he can do it quickly. I’m no necromancer, but if he was capable of doing that at any time then why would he have sent all those minions after us? Why not just call us back from the start? Why wait until we’ve just beaten down his latest creation– one he had to sacrifice one of his own people for? There has to be more to it.”

“I don’t doubt that.” Sean admitted freely. “But that doesn’t solve our problem. We can’t just hang our hopes of not being rendered halfway incapacitated at any time Bancroft feels like dialing in on the off-chance that he can’t actually do it again. He’s already tried once, and I’ll be honest here – he nearly succeeded. We need to go take his ass out. Preferably by feeding it to you.”

Something inside Sean’s newest instincts resonated with that last sentiment. It wasn’t the idea of taking down Bancroft itself, more so the fundamental concept behind it. The gelaton he had become wanted to hunt. It wanted to feed. To track down its prey and devour it.

Desire to go and do exactly that right this very second welled up within him, and Sean had to fight to push it back down. His new form’s instincts were stronger than the slime warrior’s had been. Before, they had been clearly separate from his own thoughts. Now… the border wasn’t nearly as clear.

“I wholly endorse what you’re saying here, and trust me I am still livid about what he just tried to pull – but…” Gel paused, as if not entirely sure how his next statement would be received. The slime’s mental voice came out quiet. Cautious, even.

“We can’t fight him, Sean. Not yet. You saw what it took for us to take down the inmortu. We didn’t do it alone. That thing took down probably a hundred ants all by itself and we still needed help to finish it off. I hate to be the slime to say it here, but if Bancroft’s strong enough to make more of those and powerful enough to down you with magic from however far away like that, then we can’t just go rushing in just because he prodded us. That’s exactly what he would want, anyway. For us to return, remember? If we do that, then we’re just playing into his flimsy, watery little hands.”

“Watery?” Sean couldn’t help but ask. The slime’s point raised the question of just exactly how strong Bancroft actually was… but he had a feeling if Gel knew then the slime would have told him already.

“Lacking meat.” Gel clarified helpfully. “Because he’s weak.”

Sean could see how, from the slime’s perspective, that was definitely an insult. He decided not to belabor the point.

“Fair enough, I just…” Sean tightened his bone fingers into fists. “Just wish we could do something now, you know?”

“I get it.” Gel said, with surprising sincerity. “Waiting sucks. It is literally my least favorite thing, after salt. I hate it.”

“Yeah…”

For a moment, Sean recalled the period of time Gel had told him about when the slime had been effectively locked by the necromancer in a never-ending nightmare. Forced to eat minds and relive the memories of the dead over and over. The thought sobered his irritation yet further, and the gelaton began to pace as he put his mind to work.

While it frustrated him that Bancroft could apparently just take magical potshots at his psyche now, the slime had a point. One Sean himself had argued in favor of before. The necromancer was beyond them for now – but not forever. This new display of his power was just one more brick in the pile of reasons they both had to take him down. Sooner rather than later preferably, but at least now they knew what might be coming.

Which means we can plan for it. Sean reassured himself. And with Gel’s help, if Bancroft tries that again then it might not be as much of an issue as it was the first time. Maybe I am just making too big of a deal out of it. Though, how did he help? I thought it was all in my head?

As if in answer to that very question, a black and crimson prompt appeared in Sean’s vision just as the last blackened symbol behind him faded away. As he read, Sean realized this prompt must have minimized itself during Bancroft’s attack and was only showing up for him now that the ‘threat’ was over.

Congratulations, due to a deepening in the shared connection between you and the entity known as ‘Gel’, your flesh-bound trait has activated! As your Gelaton nature has already combined your base physical attributes, through focus you may now temporarily combine mental attributes as well!

Continue exploring the connection between you and your bonded creature in order to unlock new possibilities.

Well, that explains that. Sean mentally shrugged, filing the details of this prompt as something they could explore later. Preferably at a time when they weren’t staring down the mandibles of an absolutely massive ant queen. His pacing around had finally positioned him to stare at the oversized royal insect that Sean might never have forgotten about if not for Bancroft’s attempt to take over his mind.

“Oh, right. What are we doing about her?” Sean asked, jerking a thumb at the ant matriarch who still hadn’t moved from the last spot she had been in before the drive-by brain-dial-in.

“She’s waiting for us to get started.” Gel said, as if that were obvious. “There’s a lot of mushroom left to eat, and we are just the gelaton for the job!”

“She’s just going to stand there while we cleanse the rest of the caverns?” Sean supposed it made sense, though standing stock-still while hundreds, maybe thousands of your own brood swarmed all over your back didn’t exactly sound comfortable.

Then again, he wasn’t an ant queen so what did he know?

“She doesn’t want to risk any of her new brood until we’ve given her the all-clear.” Gel explained, before twirling an all-too-familiar battle-axe that was now pure crimson instead of clear. “Now, shall we get started then?”

“Sure, let’s–” Sean started, but the slime interrupted him.

“Onward!” Gel cried, gesturing straight at the nearest clump of mushroom as if they were soldiers on a battlefield headed towards their next objective. “Towards our fooooooood!”