Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!

She was pretty sure she was well hidden. Then how in the fucking hells had she been discovered. Did this old guy cast a spell that could see through {Invisibility}? But such a spell would not work on her. She had a model of the spell [Invisibility] so she was sure spells meant to unravel it could never work on her. After all, the spell itself is an inferior version of the ability, much like [Dragon Breath] the spell and {Dragon Breath} the dragons’ ability.

So how was she discovered?

Her question was answered when a blurry figure materialised next to the Cryptmaker. It was a transparent figure with the appearance of a young woman with short hair. It hovered nearly half a metre off the ground as it looked straight at her.

Race: Ghost (Undead- Spectre)

Physique: None

Mana: F (White)

A ghost, what she use to be; without a doubt the most useless and harmless undead in existence. However, ghosts had a keen sight for that which was hidden. It was something she had read in Bori’s notes. That part of his notes mostly dealt with ideas to turn them into wraiths though as he clearly had not had a high opinion of them. He probably never imagined something so useless could be used in such a manner.

Fuck! She swore again. Then, quickly dispelling {Invisibility} and {Lightfoot}, she shouted, “wait!”

The undead were moments away from launching their attacks when she called out. The skeletons and zombies on the rooftops had their bows drawn while the undead on the ground had their weapons pointed in her direction. Obviously, none of these were a threat to her; as long as none of them wielded Light Magic, which was a safe bet to say it was an impossibility for this rotting horde. Still, if they did attack her she would be forced to flee before she ran out of mana.

But that would mean she came here for naught, causing her to miss out on the knowledge she desires.

She would rather it not come to this.

Her original plan had been to observe and then learn what she could about the man before leaving the village and then pretending to enter the village for the first time in broad starlight. Then she would use what little knowledge she had collected to try and negotiate with the Cryptmaker.

Now however that plan was ruined. The only thing she could do was come out of hiding and wing it.

“Who are you?” the Cryptmaker said in a hoarse voice that sounded like it was not used much.

“I am a servant of the Great… Belgarath,” she made up a name on the spot. “My master heard you were around and sent me here to exchange knowledge and ideas with you.

“Get lost,” the old man’s unfriendly tone cracked. “I’ve never heard of a Belgarath.”

“That’s because my master likes to keep to himself,” she countered, erecting herself to show a prideful posture. “He never shows himself and even when he does none of his actions are ever traced back to him.

“That seems convenient,” the hunched over man responded, unconvinced. “Like what?”

“The absence of the Grand Court Mage,” she spilled the first thing that came to mind. “The reason you were able to brazenly take over this village without repercussions is in part to him.”

Hearing this, the Cryptmaker sneered. “Do not take me for a fool girl! Savandor went on a diplomatic errand! Everyone knows that!”

“Ah yes. Because common knowledge is always so truthful,” she retorted smugly. Not too smug though. She did not want the necromancer angry and unwilling to trade.

“She is lying.” The one who spoke this time was not the Cryptmaker but the Skeleton Mage. Surprisingly, the voice of this undead was soft and feminine. The red orbs in its eyeholes seemed to glow brighter as it spoke next. “Master, I say we kill her and get back to what we were doing.”

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“Seconded,” the deep voice of the Death Knight came.

“Same,” the Bone Knight followed.

Even the fucking ghost made its opinion known with a nod of agreement.

They were all truly intelligent undead. This hunched back withered old fuck really knew how to create them!

Although she had expected this to be the case, it would be a lie to say she had zero doubts. Now that it was hundred percent confirmed Sage could not help heating up with excitement. However, she quickly snuffed out the embers and used stoicism to cool herself. Her real thoughts should not be gleaned by the other party.

“What about you Mister Kezan?” she posed to the one whose decision all hinged on. “Surely, you do not want to make an enemy of my master, especially since you seem so… preoccupied.”

The feigned threat was not at all subtle as she gazed upon the gory ritual circle and the despairing survivors at the centre.

Obviously, the necromancer picked up on the threat. She felt his mana gathering as he gazed upon her and cast [Mystic Eyes], a spell she was beginning to hate existed. The Cryptmaker peered at her for a few seconds before making his conclusion and cancelling the spell.

“So you’re an undead,” the Cryptmaker stated. His expression softened before morphing to curiosity. “This is the first time seeing one like you. What are you?”

“I am a new innovation of my master,” she bluffed, taking off her mask. Since she was already outed as an undead there was no need to keep it on. Let this geezer see her appearance and make his own judgement. “Like how the Blood Sorceress created the vampires aeons ago. However, my master has not come up with a name for me yet.”

The old necromancer stroked his chin in contemplation before his attention returned to her. “And what is it that this master of yours would like from me?”

At this moment she took a deep breath of unnecessary air and let it go. Then she gave him a serious look.

This was the moment. If she fucked it up she would be going back empty-handed with her tail between her legs.

“My master requests notes on the creation of sentient undead,” she replied.

During that time her eyes travelled from him to the Skeleton Mage with a hostile posture, the stoic Death Knight, the silent Bone Knight and the not-so-useless ghost before returning to the necromancer.

As expected, the Cryptmaker’s eyes darkened at this request. It seemed Sylphia had been right. No sorcerer took kindly to someone else asking for their research, necromancers probably more so. Seeing the withered necromancer’s expression, Sage suspected such requests often ended in a violent pushback.

However, Kezan the Cryptmaker was an old fart with at least two centuries under his belt. He did not seem to be one to fly off the handle because of a mere request, no matter how detestable he found it.

“If your master is so great that he can create new never-heard-of undead why does he want my notes?” he sneered. “His notes on the subject should be more extensive than mine.”

“Of course they are!” she replied, feigning anger. “But Master Belgarath likes to collect all sorts of research from other sorcerers. He once told me that the different approaches taken by others to reach a similar conclusion tend to inspire him with new ideas.”

“And what is it that this that this Belgarath is offering in return for my notes?” the Cryptmaker asked with a snarl.

Pretending to recover from a slight, an arrogant smile spread to her features.

“A way to advance.”

That got his attention. For the first time since she revealed herself the Cryptmaker’s appeared to have a lively reaction. His small eyes widened, which was not saying much since their widened state only made them slightly larger than a normal persons un-widened eyes. His mouth hung open, exposing yellow and black cavity-ridden teeth that looked like mice chewed through them. However, this expression which Sage would have no doubt found comical under different circumstances, only lasted for an instant. Then it morphed to a sceptical one.

“And how is he going to present this chance to me?” he asked with no small amount of disbelief.

Obviously she was prepared for this. Reaching inside her coat, she came out with a stack of rolled up papers. These notes were her pitch, the reason she was confident the necromancer would accept her bargain.

“These papers detail a ritual to summon a Netherkin,” she revealed.

The necromancer’s eyes constricted at the sight of the papers.

When she read through the notes herself she figured out why Bori had wanted to contract a Netherkin so bad. Although they did not increase the amount mana the necromancer possessed, through their connection the necromancer was able to engrave one spell of each Order until his own into the undead’s being. As long as the necromancer’s dominant affinity was Darkness, the extra spells would act as if they were the necromancers, allowing them learn a spell of a higher Order if they met the requirements.

As a 9th Order necromancer, there was no doubt that the Cryptmaker wished to advance to Ultra Order. However, from the information she had gotten from the Mercenary Guild, he was unable to. Not that it was explicitly stated in the notes; but it had been detailed that the Cryptmaker had been in the 9th Circle since over a hundred years ago. Even though he possessed an A aptitude he seemed to be on the lower end of it, meaning Ultra Order was impossible for him as is.

The notes she held were probably the most tempting thing in the world for him right now. Just as she expected, he pounced on the opportunity.

“Then I will accept the notes,” he said, his face twisting into a grin that could only be described as hideous. “Those notes will indeed be very helpful to me.”

She nodded in satisfaction. “Great, then the exchange-”

“I’ll be taking you as well,” the necromancer interrupted her, his eyes shining with greed as he uttered a loud cackle. “An undead I’ve never met before and notes on how to summon a Netherkin; I won’t pass up the chance to study either of them!”

“Fuck!” Sage swore verbally and she took a step back.

Then she felt the Cryptmaker’s cast a domination spell on her.