Sage let out a satisfied sigh while she ran a wet cloth along her scarred body.

As an undead, she did not sweat. Being a phantom, she emitted no odour. Therefore, it was not necessary to often wash up. That said, the sensation of water pooling down her body, streaming along her scars, was refreshing. It was too good to pass up.

While running the cloth to parts of it had not yet travelled, her eyes lowered to the surface of the river in which half her body had been submerged. Within its crystal clearness she saw her distorted image, twisted even further in the ripples caused by her actions.

Due to the hideous scars that covered her, body she did not often look at her reflection. Just tracing the scars along the corners of her mouth and throat with her hand was an upsetting experience. To look into clear water and see how the horrible stitches had messed up what should have been a very attractive face was downright maddening. It did not help that those same stitches were all over her arms, legs and abdomen.

She was eye-catching alright, but in the wrong way. Although covering up and masking herself did attract a level of attention, it was not even close to the amount she would receive if people saw her face. She could still remember the actions of the Scarlet Quartet during their first mission, when they had thought she was a necromancer’s victim. Distressed by her appearance but pitying her, only for those same looks to morph to disgust after they met again. These were the two most common reactions to expect from those who saw her face. If she had to be honest, even if only to herself, she like neither.

She really needed the Elixir!

If only the damn potions were as abundant as common ones… occasionally she had to fight the urge to [Teleport] to the Enchanted Flower and demand Sylphia work faster to obtain the clues, even if they were dead ends. The faster she could erase the scars the easier her life would become!

But we don’t always get what we want, she thought, releasing another sigh; a melancholic one this time.

When she had ensured that the cloth had touched every part of her body she threw it to the shore, after which she activated {Lightfoot} and heaved herself up until she was standing on the surface of the water. Then she walked over to the riverside. There she took another cloth, a dry one much thicker than the one she had bathed with, and began to dry herself. After finishing, her eyes moved to the clothes neatly lined on the riverbank.

The chosen apparel were cotton trousers and a cotton shirt, with a woollen coat and scarf. The final articles were gloves and boots, both made from leather. As with all her previous outfits, these were black in colour.

After donning her underclothes, she slipped them on and leaned over the edge of the river to get a good look at herself. Ignoring her reflected face, she chose instead to concentrate on the entire image below her neck. The image displayed in the river left her satisfied. The clothes were comfortable, aesthetically pleasing and gave her a vastly different appearance from the dresses she wore previously.

Obviously she could not wear those types of clothes again, not after the shit-storm she caused in Tiih. She would not be surprised to learn that her actions had drawn the attention of the higher-ups of the Shean Church. From the information she had gotten out of Sylphia, the old crone had been a respected member of their organisation. Her death might have even have drawn the eyes of the Imperator to this corner of Rekke.

In all honesty, Sage would have preferred never to get involved with the hag or her bastard protégé. If the two of them had just let her be, she would have been happy ignoring the fact that they existed. She would not have cared about them even if they massacred a million undead.

But the two of them just had to attack her and she was sure as hell was not going to let them off, even if it brought her more trouble. Those who fucked with her had to be prepared for the consequences!

Alas, revenge was an endless cycle. By killing the old hag she had likely instigated others to get revenge on her, people who would likely chase her to the ends of the world. She did not plan to make it easy for these people.

Within an hour of completing the ritual Sage had packed up her stuff and left the caves, making a short but strenuous journey across the Trenton Highlands, into the Kingdom of Lethia.

Her hiding period was over.

Although just next door to Ysh, Lethia was vastly different. Mages were not as revered in this land; in some places they were even reviled. Lethia’s population was more focused on the improving their physiques than their magic, so much so that more than a twentieth of the population was said to have physiques surpassing the fifth Grade, which was really impressive. It was little wonder why the country was one of the two powers of North-Western Rekke. If they did not shun sorcerers who specialised in a field that was not alchemy, there was a definite possibility that they would surpass Ysh.

One of the biggest reasons why she had decided to come to this place, apart from wanting to learn how to improve her own physique, was that the Church of Life had no presence in Lethia. Due to an incident over a century ago involving a young priest and a princess of Lethia, the Sheans were run out; after which they had tried to instigate a rebellion, which ended up failing. Their banishment would probably not end anytime soon since the one who ran them out was the current king.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

Of course, angering an Organisation with a deity behind it was an idea only the intellectually challenged would attempt. To negate any backlash that could come from the Church of Life, the king invited the Vestravans and made them the state religion. These days much of the peasantry had taken to worshipping the Dragon God, with a reverence that put the other faiths to shame. It is said that during summer many of Vestrava’s children would occasionally be spotted overhead.

Unfortunately, due to the Autumn Equinox being only two days away and the ensuing drop in temperatures that heralded Atasha’s coming northwards, they had likely fled south already.

Their absence would be a blessing for Sage. After all, the last thing she desired was to meet those fire-breathing monstrosities. Her flammable skin would not be able to handle such an encounter.

After a minute of staring at her reflection she pulled away from the river and stepped into the forest, which was thankfully sparser than its counterpart on the other side of the mountains.

About a minute or so inside she caught a whiff of roasting meat. Choosing to trace it to its source, she appeared in a clearing with a fire over which a large rabbit was cooking. Within this clearing were two individuals, a lynx-like creature and a man clad in black armour. Surprisingly, among the two it was the lynx that was roasting the meat. The man on the other hand sat far from the fire in a defeated posture. She shot him a sneer as she sat at the fire, inviting its warmth onto herself.

Race: Pale Knight (Undead)

Physique: Grade 2

Mana: A (White)

Title(s): Netherkin

With her interpretation of the sentient undead creation ritual, she had managed to turn the Guard Captain into a new type of undead. First off, he had a passive ability called {Corrupt Armaments} which strengthened all his equipment and turned it pitch black. This, she had noted, was a kind of corrupting enchantment that enabled him to corrode those he cuts; a power that made his second ability, {Slain Minion}, possible. This ability, {Slain Minion}, allowed him to raise slain foes to fight for him for a few minutes. The third power, {Raise Steed}, was the ability to turn a mount, specifically of the equestrian type, to an undead ride. These three abilities were inherited from the death knight half of the ritual circle.

The fourth ability was {Chill}. This particular ability caused him to emit a cold aura that induced fear on anyone who felt it. The good news about this ability was that it could be shut off; she could only guess the disaster that would occur if someone brought a being with an uncontrollable ability, like a dread zombie, in a settlement. Also, since his mana had reverted to white this and the other abilities were nothing impressive.

Even though everything he used became black, due to how white his skin had become along with his chilling ability, she had decided to name her creation a Pale Knight.

Because she had used her blood as the medium for the ritual, the bastard had become a Netherkin. This was a discovery she had made while practising the spell on rodents; a sort of happy accidental discovery. It seemed Darkborne using their blood to create undead was like Scions having children. The discovery had made her decide then and there… no matter how many times she bled herself dry, every sentient undead she created would be Netherkin!

Abilities of Kin might not be as ridiculous as those of a Scion, but they were nothing to scoff at either. Not all of them were guaranteed to achieve Transcendence, but their abilities were still useful. Kin had the power to half the potency magic and abilities of their ancestor’s element at their foes’ disposal while doubling that of their allies. A benefit to having… say a Netherkin companion, was that one did not have to wait for them to achieve Transcendence; a Netherkin with Grade 2 physique or mana of an equivalent level could use this ability. Meaning, the now undead Guard Captain had the ability to buff and debuff Dark attribute spells. No one could deny how great a power it was.

Except the man himself. After coming to, the first thing he had done was shout obscenities at her before picking up his blackened sword to try and cut her down. Of course being an undead, more specifically her undead, it only took a single word to stop him in his tracks.

Watching him realise that he had become the very creature he hated had been an amusing scene, which had immediately turned distressing when he tried to off himself. The fucker tried to undo the blood and effort she had put into moulding him!

After she hurriedly stopped him from wasting her actions, the man shut down; as if his soul left his body. He did not resist when she told him to do something, but the manner in which he did it was like a zombie. He likely perceived becoming an undead as the most terrible thing that could happen; the end of the world.

He will get over it, she thought, glaring at his sulking figure while tearing a bite out of her sizable rabbit leg.

If not in a few years, then in a few millennia. Sage truly did not give a fuck. As long as he was following her orders she was satisfied.

By the time she and Nyx finished the rabbit, with the damn familiar taking more than three quarters of it, she stood up and dusted herself off. Then she looked towards the east, where the sun was rising over the distant Trenton Mountains. She turned away and put on a plain black masks; this would be her new look going forward.

About a kilometre in the direction she now faced, was a small village. They discovered it the previous night, but she had decided to stay away then. Coming from the mountains looked very suspicious, especially with how they were dressed; there had been no need to up the suspicion meter to full blown alert by showing up in the middle of the night.

The sun had risen now though, there was no need not to visit the place. Because it was village of negligible size she did not expect to learn anything important about the country, but at least she could learn of the surroundings. The maps she had of the place were outdated so that would help.

“Let’s go,” she said as she took to her feet.