“Good riddance. Right?”
It had not taken long after she separated with the half-elf for her Familiar to come out of her shadow and try to chat her up. Nyx climbed onto her shoulder, which for some reason he seemed to regard as his comfy seat. It did not bother Sage much so she let it go. Though, she did not answer him as she advanced to the edges of the village.
“Where to now Master?” the cat asked after a considerable time had passed without getting a response.
This time she did reply. “That I don’t know. I’m not sure yet.”
Now that she no longer had to look over her shoulder to see if Kaylee was watching, she could do whatever she wanted. She could go wherever and do as she liked provided it was not in the vicinity of her bitch of a contractor. She was now free to pursue her interests. But there was so much to do that she was uncertain where to begin.
I could go to Aruu, she thought to herself.
From Nervahn the city was actually far away. An estimated three weeks’ journey by carriage if she remembered, about a quarter of that if she were travelling from Tiih- probably a few hours by flight from there. From what she had learned, Aruu was much smaller than Tiih and Yshta and probably Inalla. There was probably nothing to be gained from heading there, but she put it on the list of potential targets just in case. The city was located at the base of the Trenton Highlands near a breach called the Divide. Aside from going over the mountains, the Divide was the only way to get into Lethia.
Obviously, since she was wanted for unintentionally killing that pissant little shit of a Duke’s heir she could not stay in this country. Well, actually she could since these people had so far proven to be incapable of finding her; but that did not mean she wanted to stay here just to mock their incompetence. So she set Lethia as her next country after she left this one. Magic was not as revered there, but body strengthening was all the rage. There was much she could learn in the Warrior Nation.
Her magic had grown over the past few weeks, which was something to be proud of. However, the fact that her physique had not improved was a point of concern for her. A better physique was about more than just strength and speed; it was reflexes, senses and resistance to magic. Those with stronger physiques also possessed a better intuition, allowing them to avoid situations that otherwise would have been fatal to them.
It was likely that many undead lacked the perception for danger but those were clearly the mindless ones. For one that was sentient like her, the ability to intuit danger, no matter how small, would go a long way towards sparing her from whatever trouble she might meet in the future.
Unfortunately, the training regiments required to raise ones physique was something she was certain would not work on an undead. Although she did not have much knowledge on this topic she was certain as could be that herbs and a few breathing exercises would not affect an undead’s physique in anyway. No amount of training could improve the musculature of the dead and no amount of drugs could affect them. Even the magic concoctions known as potions; apart from the Elixirs, only those that did not affect the body could be consumed, like the spirit potion.
Still, even if Lethia was not a way to improve her physique she reckoned there would be someone there- likely some necromancer in hiding- trying to improve his army. Unfortunately, after browsing through the Cryptmaker’s notes about creating stronger undead she learned that improving an undead’s physique was impossible without merging it with other undead, in such a case that result would be a new undead.
Sage did not want to find out how such a method would affect her. Therefore Lethia was the only way; or maybe the vampires living Gods-Know-Where. According to rumours these special undead were almost indistinguishable from the living; apart from a few minor differences like the absence of a reflection, shadow and the inability to walk in the day. Although they could not physically grow like the living, their mana improved with time and with their physique. There was much she could learn from them.
But that was for another time.
“Let’s go visit our friend Sylphia,” she suggested. The information she had requested about Scions was long overdue. It was about time she collected it. “Then find someplace to hole up in while I go through the Cryptmaker’s notes. When I’m done we can search for beasts you can {Devour}. How about that?”
It was a shame {Devour} could not be used on humans or undead. If that was possible maybe the cat would have been a little more useful than it currently was.
“Understood!” Nyx sounded happy to hear her plan.
“Good,” she said, scratching the back of his neck and being rewarded with a purr. For a moment she let a smile drift to her lips before killing it. “Now, let’s go pay our Illusionist friend a visit.”
Perhaps this time she might be able to convince the elf to give up some of her Illusion spells and knowledge; this was what she thought as she cast the spell she had been working on since before sunrise. It had taken her more than six frustrating hours to learn it and- if anything- the payoff was definitely worth it. She cast [Teleport] and vanished from the spot.
The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
***
Ana sighed as she stepped into the chapel. Her metal boots tracked mud onto the floor but at this point she could care less. Half a night of walking and then finally making it to her destination only to find nothing there tended to put people in a bad mood. If she had to walk all the way back from Hassun instead of using her companion’s [Teleport] she would have likely been in a worse mood.
Why is it so crowded here? She wondered as she looked around.
Before coming to this small town in this far off country she had been told that most of the residents had fled. How then were there so many people in the church? Just off the top of her head she counted over a hundred people present, which was several percent of Nervahn’s population. They were noisy too as some of them knelt from their benches to the floor to loudly and shakily pray- more like beg- the Goddess for deliverance. It was not only normal civilians she spotted here but also mercenaries; the cowards who had been too scared to do what Ana and her colleagues were brought here to do.
One such mercenary was a half-elf who stood over a sleeping old man. She had long black hair and with tight leather armour and a bow strapped to her back. Though she lacked the fearful expression of most of the people here, other mercenaries included; the fact that she was here did not speak much for her courage.
Ana cast her attention elsewhere as she moved further into the church hall with her companions trailing.
Their arrival did of course not go unnoticed, with their upright demeanour and their eye-catching equipment. Before long much of the hall was looking at them, eyes filled with hope as if their salvation had come. She did not comfort them with assurances, neither did her comrades. That was up to their superior. After they made their report it would be up to her to decide what to divulge.
So she walked past them until she got to the stage. There a young priest-in-training met them with a reverent bow and quickly ushered them to the back of the stage, much to the confused mutterings of those present in the hall. At the back of the stage were several rooms, but these were skipped in favour of the stairs that led to the basement floor. Again, there were several doors, some of which were the sleeping quarters and medical bay. These were also skipped as well as the room with the [Teleport] circle they had come through the previous night. The trainee priest led them to the very end of the corridor where a lone door awaited. Then he bowed his head and left them there to return to his duty.
Ana and her crew braced themselves before opening the door.
The room they found was empty, devoid of everything except a mat. On this mat sat a woman of advanced age, with skin more wrinkled than any she had seen and white hair so thin her scalp was almost bald. Her aged face looked at peace- the dead kind- with her eyes closed. She did not open them as the septet entered and knelt in front of her.
“Is it done?” the old woman asked in a scratchy voice that did not seem to be used to talking. Also, there was a note of annoyance in her tone.
Ana could guess why it was so.
Saana Light-speaker. In her heyday she had been a missionary and an Inquisitor, with a rapport a Paladin like Ana could only dream of achieving. After centuries of serving she had finally resigned to serve the Goddess with prayer in her last days, only to be called back to oversee this mission. If Ana were put in a similar situation she would be pissed as well.
“No,” she replied honestly.
Her answer caused the crone to open her eyes and grey irises fell upon her. “What do you mean it is not done?” Saana asked, almost demanded.
“When we got there we found nothing,” Ana responded. She could feel her companions glaring daggers at her. She had never been the type who could explain things perfectly, so to save what would likely turn into a misunderstanding- from the aged priestess’ expression- she turned to the side and singled out the mage of their party. “Greta can explain the situation.”
The dwarf sorceress sighed before speaking up. “When we got there the entire settlement had been reduced to ash. Upon investigation we have determined there was some kind of a battle between the Cryptmaker and an unknown party. The results seem to suggest that Kezan lost.”
“And the other party?” Saana asked, her eyes closed again as she shifted into a relaxed posture. Since the object of the assignment had been vanquished perhaps she was already imagining returning to her place of retirement in this country.
“No a clue ma’am,” Greta replied. “Although I’m certain there was a second party, I could not pick up traces of their residue.”
“Is that so,” the old woman replied slowly. Without making her thoughts known she turned to the Oracle next to Greta. “Krystelle, what about you? What results has your investigation picked up?”
Krystelle’s pointy ears perked up before she spoke in a soft mousey voice. “Erm… yes ma’am! I- er- tried to [Divine] the happenings of Hassun. The- er- Cryptmaker’s death was confirmed as well as the- er- villagers.” Here she took a deep breath before trying to continue. “But- but- but-”
“-but even so the culprit could not be [Divine]d,” Ana finished for her. Krystelle always took long when she was nervous. “Although traces of their spellcasting was all over the place we could not pinpoint the individual- or individuals; though we all suspect it had only been a single person.”
To back up her speculation her companions nodded in unison.
“I see.”
Those words were followed by several moments of silence. The old woman seemed to have some thoughts on the matter but she did not share them. Ana could hear her companions’ heavy breaths as they waited to see what the retired Inquisitor would do with their report.
Finally, after what felt like forever she spoke up. “If that is the case then the job is done. Greta; you Amelia, Jansen and Payton go out and tell the people out there the necromancer has been vanquished. Then go to the Mercenary Guild and tell them the same news. Make sure they spread the message and send someone after those who have fled.”
“Yes ma’am!” Greta stood up and saluted. The other three did likewise before following her out.
After they left the room silence reigned supreme once more. Ana wanted to say something, but the immediate change in the room’s atmosphere made her stay her tongue. The crone opened her eyes again and she saw an alertness in them that had not been present during the whole meeting. An uncomfortable prickling assaulted her skin as the old woman’s grey orbs scrutinised her. Fortunately, the scrutiny did not last long as Saana went on to observing the other two beside her.
“Anastacia… Yaven… Krystelle…” she said their names as she gazed upon each of them. Then her scratchy voice posed a question. “What do you know of phantoms?”