Chapter 91
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The clouds rumbled in the distance, the wind picked up speed, and the ship shook against the agonized waves. My lady was in the larger fleet ship, discussing the ins and outs of the deal. Crewmembers had disappeared to the underdeck of the cog, leaving the wind mages studying the storm in the distance. The sky was dyed black, and the moon had vanished amid the thick swirling mass of clouds, the mana lamps from the cogs serving as the only illumination in the darkness around us.

“Will she be done anytime soon, bread lad?” Garlan asked as he stood beside me and leaned on the gunwale. “The nobles take forever with their etiquette and horseshit.”

“Can’t refute that, Garlan,” I watched their shadows fade into the captain’s quarters after they genuflected before Lykan. “Though, I’m surprised he agreed to give us this ship. It looks like a warship inside out.”

“It isn’t,” Garlan pointed at the sails. “A couple of arrows would take those rags down. Fleet ships are better, studier, and they don’t look as flashy as this one. Lykan’s back is against the wall, so any ship would do as long as they flaunt their prowess. I don’t doubt that they’ll succeed because most ignorant bunch don’t know bread crumbs about fleet ships.”

I squinted my eyes. “Were you trying to insult me?”

“Was I?” Garlan grinned and patted my back. “Never thought you’d save my life one day, Rudolf.”

“Neither did I, bread lad. But my lady had ordered me, just so you know,” I sighed and glanced at the sailors decked in ostentatious robes on the fake warship. Sure, they didn’t look equipped for a fight, so I had no clue what Balar thought when he sent them to chase the messenger. At the least, the first prince was clever enough to hire a demon to do his bidding.

Lykan’s crewmembers earned disgusted stares from almost everyone, and Reav tossed a wooden cask across the ships, taking down two well-grown men in a strike. Nuva shook his butt at them before rushing back to the top basket of their rundown cog.

“Quite the lively bunch, aren’t they?” Garlan watched Milan with a smile. “No idea how many more step-siblings I got in the realm.”

I laughed, rubbing my hands that had gone cold. “I wouldn’t be surprised if I turned out to be your brother.”

“Fuck! Stop cussing, bastard!” 

“How is that a cuss?” I elbowed his abdomen.

“I don’t want to share my inheritance with you. Never when your lady is watching my every damn move. She might force me to move into the streets.”

“I know my parents, so you don’t have to worry about your inheritance,” I turned to the bowsprit. A portgull was perched at the apex, and it took flight, noticing my stare. Clairvoyance, but I didn’t have hostility toward animals, let alone birds. “Further, your meager heirloom would hardly buy me bread for a week. So, no. I’m not interested in your money.”

“I’m counting on you to save me again, bread lad,” he grinned and walked toward Milan. The planks that had replaced the ice almost broke under his weight, but he managed to hop across the vessel without failing into the aggrieved water below. More water roared and struck the hull in agony, foreboding uneasiness on the sailors and Lyakan’s crewmembers alike. 

A few curses followed on Garlan, soon trashing, along with some stabs of a blunt weapon. Garlan stayed, trying to use his glib tongue in vain. Milan kicked his groin in the end, too hard for an ordinary person. [Strengthen] must have saved my bread lad again since he continued pestering Milan with the same sheepish grin. 

I watched their exchange for a while, and unknowingly a smile had crept on my lips. That was creepy since the undead had absolute control over their emotions. These changes were ruinous, and I didn’t like them. I was mortal once, and if it wasn’t for [Rufluengence], I would have peacefully enjoyed my days without the haunting memories of my human self. Nevertheless, the cork had been unscrewed, and the gas had diffused out, so I remembered more and more fragmented memories of my childhood. And emotions that came with it. One of indifference and one of rage. Even though minuscule, the changes were noticeable, but I would crush them again, just like how I did at the beginning of my arduous journey to immortality.

“Ay, Rudolf!” Reav shouted from the mainmast, gesturing for me to walk closer to her. She held the underdeck entrance with her hand and peered inside the floorboard with enthusiasm. The plant was cracked in places, the wood frayed. I couldn’t ascertain if it was worn out or her sheer strength had broken it.

I tramped through the main deck, avoiding a couple of barrels, and reached beside her. She was almost half a foot taller than me, all muscles, and from a bystander’s perspective, she could break my neck with her fingers alone. Of course, the only impossible hurdle was the fact that I was undead.

“See these?” she pointed to the skittering demon globules in the single deep room below. There was a table and a broken stool that was tossed in one corner along with blood.  “Demon horde. Same as the ones you killed. Dangerous.”

“This was Ducan’s room, Reav,” I moved closer and peered inside the chamber. They were no different from the mutated cells of Lykan’s injury, so I was positive that they belonged to the Carcass.

“Still alive, ey?” she asked, looming over me dangerously. Soon, we had an audience; all taking turns to watch the carousing demons underneath the floorboard.

“Yes,” I smiled and took a step back. “[Holy light] would kill them.”

“Gross are they.” She pulled the shoulder of a scrawny young who was inching closer to the square hole. “Crew, get back to your slates before Curino whips your butt. Demons can wait. But Curino cannot.”

“Ay!” they laughed and scurried away one after the other, moving an extra distance away from the periphery of the room after having watched the havoc caused by the demon firsthand.

“So, we kill them?” Reav asked again, scrutinizing my face.

“Yes, we do. Unless you want these to multiply and spread another curse in Halurath Isles,” I said.

“Are you not scared?” Reav asked, scratching the tangled mess of her hair.

“Demons are no different from mortals. Just that time runs slower in their realm, and their life gets extended when they eat–“

“Not that,” she removed her eye patch, and I saw the hollow hole on her face. “Are you not scared of me, ey?”

“Should I be?” I asked with a flat look. She was not a quarter as scary as I was, so her question was misconstrued.

“Everyone is,” she grunted, pushing the square plank over her to the other side. It buckled with a loud noise, not enough for the sailors on the other ship to spare us a glance.

“Well, I’m not everyone,” I shrugged and cast [Holy light] on the demon remnants. I wasn’t inclined to pacify whatever uneasiness she had garnered after living in the mortal realm, so I nodded at her and walked back to the captain's quarters of the rundown cog.

The bag was untouched, and so were the sheets that my lady hadn’t used. I sat against the table, watching the vast expanse of the blues through the single transparent window opposite me. Dawn would whack the lousy moon out in a couple of hours, but we should reach the harbor should everything run smooth. I rummaged the bag for a grey hand-knit muffler and tied it around my neck. The cold had me shivering; the skin on my fingers shriveled, and I found it harder to breathe than usual. 

I heard a knock on the door. Getting back up took much effort since I wanted to laze around after some slaughtering exercise. Alas, mortals had other ideas for me. It wasn’t my lady, of course, since she never knocked. So, it was either Garlan, who had miraculously decided to hone his mannerism, or one of the crewmembers. 

Sure enough, Reav greeted me at the door. 

“How can I help you?” I asked, opening the door halfway through. Though annoyed, I never projected my mood on someone else, so I maintained an amicable tone.

She raised a bottle of mead, and I was forced to strain my neck just to get a clear look at her face. “Drink?”

“I don’t drink,” I said and almost closed the door. Reav placed her feet at the threshold and stopped me. 

“It’s mead,” she smiled, watching the bottle fondly. “The best honey wine. Tastes good, sweet, and slips from the tongue to the throat like Unglan’s sweat.”

“I don’t drink,” I repeated and sighed. 

“Oh,” she hid the bottle behind her, and I almost closed the door on her face.

“Rudolf,” my lady joined the newcomer at the door, her gaze quite unfriendly as she glanced at Reav. “What are you doing here?”

“Visiting my comrades for some mead, lady,” Reav pointed at other sailors, who were reveling in the taste of fresh mead. “You want some, ey?”

“My mongrel doesn’t drink,” she squinted her eyes. “And neither do I.”

“Mongrel?” Reav’s eyes widened as he looked back and forth between us. 

“Do you need something from my man?” Letitia asked again, her steel gaze forcing the strong woman to flinch.

“No…” she appeared dejected and walked away. The shouts, a few clouts, and some mirth lingered in the main deck before us, the crewmembers enjoying the best wine on the lands, one meant for nobles.

“See?” my lady entered the room and closed the door behind her. “Women hit on you. I need to lock you up in the manor!”

I laughed and patted her head. “Did the talk end smoothly, my lady?”

“Stop changing the topic so blatantly!” She tiptoed and bit my neck hard enough to leave a mark. No blood flowed this time, and it didn’t hurt as much as the first time. “You are mine. And mine alone.”

She later fished out a rolled paper encased in a cylindrical leather ampule and passed it to me. “Two cogs in my name. I tried to add yours, but those bastards were adamant about your status.”

I smiled and unfurled the papers after opening the ampule. Sure enough, the papers looked genuine with an official seal of ownership transfer. The unfamiliar rambling was unheard of from my age, so I couldn’t make the head or toe of the weird twaddle. As long as the nobles were candid, I was good. If they cheated us, then I could torture them and steal their entire legacy. 

“We have a source of income now, Rudolf,” my lady said as I folded the document and handed it to her. She just shook her head, gesturing for me to keep it. “We can buy more bread and cookies.”

Letitia wrapped her hands around my waist and looked up. “Won’t I earn a kiss for the deed?”

I flicked her forehead and rubbed her head. “This is as far as I will go, my lady. Stop acting spoilt.”

Letita nuzzled in my embrace and buried her head in my bosom. “This is good too.” 

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