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Rise of the First Necromancer
Chapter 62: Neda's mission

Chapter 62: Neda's mission

Ellie was talented- both Asrael and Neda could see it. She had cut into the man’s flesh without hesitation, as if it had been no more morbid a material than regular canvas. More importantly; her runes were jagged in the right places and smooth where they needed to be curved... as much as he hated to admit it; the girl’s natural talent shamed him, when he thought of how he had started out as a young magus.

Fortunately; Neda’s natural talent was naught but slightly above average- far more than most would have been able to, but the hesitation in her cuts left her at a disadvantage. Her speed was also far from impressive, but he paid her no heed... he had found his favored assistant and would be sure to grant her the most important corpses. Perhaps, in time, both could prove valuable assets- tripling his work-speed, at best.

A lurching, groaning “urrrrghhh” from the tunnels meant that their playtime was over. Neda looked up with a smile as their dark knight returned atop the pale, morbid, slack-jawed, immortalized steed. Ogrim- as Neda had taken to calling him, dragged the two men on either side- uncaring for the harm he caused their limp bodies. Asrael nodded approvingly as he saw the relatively... prideful... bagged-eyed tavernkeeper arrive- clenching the rope around the Ogre’s neck with a straight back. He enjoyed this change of attitude- confirming what Asrael had always suspected.

“You are more wretched than I was led to believe, tavernkeeper.” Their dark Master spoke as Ogrim came to a halt and let go of the two limp forms on the middle of the cellar floor. Ellie looked at the beast with awe and disgust intermixed- amazed by Asrael’s power to reshape flesh and awaken the dead. Kester stepped down from his wretched steed and clapped its back twice.

Once down; the tavernkeeper pulled out his tools and put them atop the workbench next to the corpses, before staring down at the desecrated corpse on the floor with a displeased frown to say; “I’ve got about twenty feet of sausages to get rid of and I’m takin’ it you want me to make more outta this guy?” Asrael motioned for the man and, as ordered; the Ogre began dragging the desecrated corpse up the stairs- closely followed by the sighing, melancholic tavernkeeper. When the two had disappeared up the hatch, the necromancer turned towards the two, young men and eyed them over.

They were in far better shape and far younger than the usual dredges wandering the city- clattering their arms and hunting the innocent, which meant: “They will make fine supplements. You will take that one and you will follow my lead.” Asrael pointed to the man to the left and looked the apathetic, raven-haired girl in her dark eyes. With naught but a nod, she sat down at his side and began unbuttoning his shirt. Neda was about to join her, when Asrael raised a flat palm and commanded;

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“There are only two corpses and these men are far too good for your inept hands.” Neda could not help but immediately frown, even though she tried to resist it. That pang struck her in the chest- the sting of feeling inferior and the dread of being replaced by another.

“B-but... I’ll try my best-” Asrael again raised his palm.

“I have other work in mind for you.” She waited anxiously as he pondered whether this truly was a good idea... “Of course it is.” he thought. He needed to know more about the white-haired one, as it was becoming clear that she had her own motives.

“Go to the Garrison. Find Bartholomew and have him feed you, but you will not be there for him. I want you to find out more about the white-haired one; ask him or better yet, her.” Neda’s brow lowered, the ridge of her nose wrinkled as she heard his command.

“I’m not looking in on your girlfriend for you, you ass! I can help here- I can do it, I know I can!” He visibly cringed and immediately saw it fit to correct her; “She is no mate of mine! I do not trust the wench- despite her propensity for assisting me. For now, I am not even certain she can be allowed to live- much less breed with me.” She folded her arms and looked at him suspiciously. She would like to see this girl, if only to tell her to fuck off. And the prospect of eating some of that delicious, rich-people food was tempting. Still... could she allow Ellie to take her place?

“Are you sure you’re not just sending me to spy on her because you like her?” Again; he seemed disgusted to hear the accusation and promptly rounded on her.

“How dare you accuse me of such a heinous act!? I’ve enough with one harlot in my life- I do not need a second one! Now; go! Find whether she can be trusted and if not, find me her weakness!” It was odd how that word made her feel warm to her core. She had no idea what that word meant, but it was one he would always use to describe her... surely; if he had given her an intimate name, he would not so easily discard her... right? Her sheepish smile only made him all the angrier.

“You’ll come get me if I get in trouble, right?” She cautiously asked. He took a deep breath and mustered the strength to remind her.

“Are you deaf? I have already told you, your life is forfeit. It belongs to me now and I will use it as I see fit!... that said... you are still of use to me. That masochism of yours suits me well... for now.” She impatiently tapped her foot. “Is that a yes?” He rolled his eyes and eventually agreed before urging her out with hurried motions of his hands.

As the grinning fool disappeared up the stairs, he turned towards his eager apprentice and folded his sleeves up.

“Now that we are alone... we’ve work to do.”