(Author: Hello all. Decided to change one field of magic for necromancers from ice to water. Don't see a lot of necromancers using water instead of ice in games. Who'd expect a necromancer to use water magic? It is also easier to disguise himself as a weak elementalist as ice is more of an offensive field of magic compared to water magic. I thought about how to apply water magic as necromancers can use poison and plant magic. Anyway, Elgar and Tristan are ready to head to the tomb, but they encounter an unexpected obstacle. Some say blood is thicker than water. I say jealousy drains blood and envy dilutes it. WARNING: This chapter is not for those with a weak heart. Hope you enjoy the chapter.)
Chapter 3: Relatives and Tombs
"The Urn of the Demon King," Elgar muttered as he put spare clothes and some food into his magical storage bag, an item all mages carry. It was a gift from Tristan and a very convenient method of carrying items. Elgar currently wore a black robe with a silver collar and silver cuffs.
His robe had a hood which he used to cover his head to hide his horns. The Maltos clan didn't like demi-humans with dragon blood and had always picked on him and called him a freak. He wasn't able to kill them before, but now he can practice necromancy. Once he encountered his bullies in an isolated environment, he would kill them slowly, painfully. The weak would be wise to endure until they gained power. Once you have power, you return their 'kindness' back tenfold and make them beg for death. That was what he did once. It was a very effective practice. A little less meat to eat, but certainly more entertaining.
Elgar sighed as he grabbed his spear and left his house. His scorpion was hidden in one of his pockets and he met with Tristan at the grave of his ancestor, a grim expression evident on his face. Elgar looked at the grave and his eyes widened as he saw that it had already been dug up with a flight of stairs where the coffin should have been.
"People came in before us?" Elgar pondered aloud.
"Yes Elgar," Tristan said. "It would appear that we are not the only ones interested in the riches in the catacombs. I have already talked to the patriarch and expressed my disappointment. I might have scared him a little as I am an Arch Magus and I only accepted to guard the library as a favor to your father. I was one of the bodyguards that failed to protect your mother when she was assassinated. We managed to get you out of her before she died and it was a wonder how calm you were when you found out your mom died. Looking at you now, you must have been born very intelligent."
"Perhaps," Elgar said, not caring about his dragon mother. She was of the dragon race as he had been but dragons sealed in human forms were a disgrace. When dragons were sealed in human form, they didn't have any horns, scales, or use any of their magic. They were considered a disgrace as a dragon to be sealed by a human. As for Elgar, he retained his horns and he had the superior strength and mana pool of a dragon. He just couldn't use any magic as it was his permanent form and was no longer a pure dragon.
"The patriarch has given me a guarantee of being pardoned in the event that some of the people in the catacomb suffer an 'accident' while searching for the treasure," Tristan smiled, knowing that Elgar had allowed himself to be bullied for being a bookworm. This boy was different the moment he wanted to learn necromancy. A pure, innocent child would not want to learn necromancy. He had realized then that Elgar only bided his time until he had the power to fight back."
"A pardon?" Elgar grinned, his intent evident on his face. "Do you know who went inside the catacombs?"
"Of course Elgar," Tristan said. "It was Master Garret and his two sons, Gerald and Gavin. They have a retinue of fifty knights and one rank 4 mage among them."
"A Sorcerer than," Elgar laughed. "With an Arch Magus by my side, what do I have to fear? I will leave the Sorcerer, my uncle, and the knights to you. I have a few experiments I plan to use on my 'dear' cousins."
"As you wish young master," Tristan said, knowing this was an order as was his right as the son of his friend and employer, Edward Maltos. "I believe we should follow them stealthily and let them suffer the traps and dangers until we thin their ranks. Killing them is easy, but I don't know if the ancient walls and roof of the catacombs will handle my magic."
Elgar nodded and they waited for an hour before venturing into the catacomb. Upon entering the catacombs, Elgar admired the human ancestor. The walls were made of pure gold and had several rectangular holes in the walls. Inside a few of the holes were the corpses of what remained of the emperor's personal army, slaves, and servants. It was an old practice the ancestor established to bury himself with his riches, and all the people who directly served him. If there was any sympathy felt for the people forced to die trapped in the tomb, Elgar felt none of it. It was the weak to die unreasonably.
On the ground, Elgar and Tristan saw several rotten corpses and fresh corpses of knights on the floor. Elgar assumed his ancestor must have hired a really powerful blood mage to resurrect his servants and soldiers to eternally guard his treasures. Elgar let Tristan scout ahead as he stared meditating. Fiery orbs swirled around Elgar, but the flames were not hot or cold. The orbs were the pieces of the souls left behind by the dead. The brighter the shade of blue, the weaker the soul. There were a few light blue orbs and many more indigo colored orbs. They would be the souls of the animated corpses that existed since the emperor's death.
As a necromancer, he was able to see souls and touch them. Actual souls had immensely more soul energy than mana and he grabbed the orbs and started eating them. Every time he ate a soul, his mana increased. Necromancers required a massive amount of mana compared to an elementalist so having a large mana pool was not rare. He also orderedhis scorpion to came out of his pocket and watched it eat the souls. When all the souls were gone, Elgar retrieved his scorpion and proceeded past a door and went into the next level of the catacombs.
"You did well to eat the souls," Tristan said. "They were but mere fragments of what once was. They're nothing but soul energy, a purer and more powerful form of mana. I am sad to say that your uncle died, it seems he was stabbed in the back by one of his sons. I believe they might have found a treasure of sorts that their father wanted to keep. Only about a dozen knights remain. I summoned a few dozen skeletal wolves. They should all be dead soon, save the two young masters. I will go on ahead to clear the rest of the traps."
"My thanks master," Elgar said, pleased everything went so smoothly. The second son of the patriarch was dead and soon his sons would follow him. Elgar meditated once again to gather the souls from the corpses to him and than ate them. He let his scorpions eat the souls of the knights and a few of the ancient souls before scouring the level for any treasures. All he found were a few gold and silver coins and worn armor and weapons.
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Elgar became testing some of his poison magic on the corpses. He had learned poison magic that consisted of bacteria that ate the flesh. It was a very lethal type of poison magic but took way too much time to take effect. After a few moments, he saw the poison mist he created with the flesh eating bacteria devour the corpses, pieces the size of small holes spreading from the point of contact until there was nothing left of the body. Poison in the blood could be cured. Bacterial poison could only be stopped. It was a harder type of magic to learn, but more deadly.
At last, he saw two boys a year older than him cowering in the corner on the third level of the catacomb. He grinned evilly as he brandished his spear and let his scorpion rest on his shoulder. He pulled back his hood to reveal his face and horns.
"It's you! The dragon half-breed. Our demonic and human ancestors would be ashamed to learn of your existence," the older boy, Gerald, spat. Gerald was born eleven months before Gavin and had blonde hair while Gavin had dark brown hair. Both boys had blood all over their steel armor with a few dents and cracks. Even their swords were broken from fighting the wolves.
"Quick! Distract these wolves while we escape. I promise to send you aid," Gavin shouted, grinning.
"I don't think so," Elgar said as he walked among the wolves. "You see, my master, Tristan, is the creator of these wolves and they won't harm me. They are here to ensure that you don't escape from me."
"The f*cking librarian guard?" Gerlad laughed. "That old man is useless. Don't try to lie your way out of this! Distract them you freak! I rder you as the son of the second son of House Maltos!"
"You mean you'beloved' father that you backstabbed," Elgar mused. "I gotta admit. I knew you were pathetic, but even I did not think you would stoop so low. He could have been useful. Oh well. I was going to kill him anyway."
"You? Kill him?" Gavin laughed. "You're just a bloody bookworm! A little freak born from a sealed dragon whore! Dragons, what disgusting lizards."
Elgar grit his teeth in anger and said in a low tone, "You filthy human. You dare insult the mighty dragons? You're not even worth the effort to sh*t on. An insect like you should know your place."
"Who's going to make me? You, half-breed? Don't make me laugh. You want another beating before crying to your daddy?" Gerald mocked.
"I never cried once and endured the pain," Elgar said calmly as he walked toward them. "I waited for so long for us to be out of the family territory. No one can hear you scream here. No one will know of your pain. No one will weep for you either. Why? Because Tristan and I will be pardoned for 'accidentally' killing you. Tell me humans, have you ever felt fear. True fear. In a few moments, you will know it and you cannot stop it. Killing you? That is beneath me and too lenient a punishment for he injustice you have done. Killing you is justice. Why? Because I am a hero and heroes are not criminals."
"A hero?' Gavin laughed. "You're not a hero! You think you can be a hero? You're a dog! Trash! A filthy half-breed lizard son of a slave whore!"
"I'm not the average hero," Elgar conceded. "It's true. I don't act like a generic hero. Why? I killed the human slave who was chosen. Why? I was a Dragon King that ruled over an entire planet in the Mortal Realm? Why? I am a necromancer. Ever heard of a necromancer hero? Ha! Well that's enough talk. Let's finish this."
Elgar raised his spear, with a mana stone embedded in it, at their feet. They screamed in pain as small cages of bone decapitated their feet one by one. As Gavin fainted from shock, Elgar used water magic and a small stream of water blasted on his face. He repeated the process on their hands and watched them roll on the ground in agony. He had a greater grudge on Gerald and tossed Gavin toward the skeletal wolves, pausing to watch them eat. He knew from his books that a necromancer could see from the eyes of his minions. Tristan would have known what he meant when he tossed Gavin at the wolves.
"And then only pitiful arrogant Gerald remained of the lineage of the the great Garret Maltos! How the mighty have fallen," Elgar sighed, shaking his head in mockery. "Well, you were a nice experiment. You served your purpose."
Elgar used mana to once again use his poison magic and watched the poison mist eat the body of the ignorant bully. This was the result of negligence. The bullies had relied on someone else's power instead of increasing their own. They didn't know what it was like to struggle for supremacy. Such people were a waste and better off dead. People would probably mourn them for a year or two before they were forgotten.
"Finished your business?" Tristan smiled as his wolves escorted him to the entrance of the heart of the tomb.
"My thanks master. My justice would have been delayed for quite a while longer than I would have liked," Elgar said, grateful. "I assume all that remains is the treasure and the final guardian?"
"Recover your mana before we go inside," Tristan said. "The final guardian should be a lich. If the blood mage animated corpses that lasted to this day, he must have been quite powerful and would have turned himself to a lich to avoid death. The Urn of the Demon King is right in front of us. We must be prepared. Your magic will be useless so keep your spear steady in front of you."
"Yes master," Elgar said and began meditating, absorbing mana essence in the air. Power a little inferior but close to his former form lay behind the door. He couldn't wait to take it. To embrace true power once more. Was he evil? No, but he didn't refrain from doing evil to carry justice. It wasn't really evil that he did. It was more like 'going too far and dealing excessive punishment.'
Chapter 2: Power of Souls Main Page Chapter 4: Ancient Lich