Anselm finds me grinning like an idiot all to myself, and perhaps unconsciously, he mirrors my smile. For once the system gives me good news. Lotar's boon has been conferred upon me.
Circle of Death.
The most powerful spell in my growing arsenal as I see it. The name speaks for itself, the spell allowed me to cast a circle that would kill every living thing upon entry.
I'm unsure how wide the circle will be but so long as it's wide enough to keep a spear away and though I'd still be vulnerable to arrows and other ranged attacks, I'm sure I'll have a shield of zombies protecting me.
"Did you get it?" Anselm asks, his mirrored smile still in place.
"Yes, and it is glorious!" I exclaim, "There are some other spells I still want to try now that my proficiency is sufficient, and there're these other spells that are not exactly spells but-"
"I'm sure there'll be time for that later, right now don't you think you have something to do?" he nods towards a collapsed Leriva.
Right. I rush towards her and fortunately fine her still breathing fine. She'd likely fainted from a complete lack of MP; she must have pushed herself to the limit keeping that Amphiptere around.
I'm grateful for that.
With Anselm helping, we pick her up and carry her up the slope. We have to walk some distance to the horses, or what little is left over in the retreat of the militia.
From what I can see ahead the horses are all set free and now roamed the fields grazing, galloping and neighing as they pleased. Not a very wise business plan, setting your horses free.
I have Anselm arrest and tie the horses together; they will do us some good yet and carry all three of us back to the pseudo-town of Carbina.
At first it is a bit difficult moving with thirteen horses trotting along behind us at various speeds, but again Anselm proves himself and gets it under control. Although, the ride is still not as fun as the first time around.
Soon I can spot the battlement and gates of Carbina, but what disturbs both Anselm and I next is the intense and ceaseless sobbing we hear emanating dead ahead.
On our arrival at the gates, we discover its none other than Mathilda, the Mayors aide-in more ways than one. She is so engrossed in her sobs and moans she doesn't even register Anselm and I unmounting.
Anselm gives me a look that has me sighing, "Fine."
I pick Leriva up off the horse that carried her and set her on my back while Anselm leads the horses inside. There's no one at the gates so he just walks in unperturbed.
It's safe to assume that the village is panicking. I don't know what structure left in place in case she died but it's obviously not working or is seriously in question.
With Anselm gone and Mathilda still not acknowledging my presence I begin kicking at her shins. "Hey! Mathilda." I groan, my body wasn't exactly the best for carrying people long term, especially not after my labours fighting those Cultists.
"Leave me be. Council yourselves for once, this is your chance to take power all that wish to." she is barely audible between her sniffling and sobbing.
It's very annoying though and so, not holding back, I drive my foot in a strike aimed at her vulnerable shin with all my contempt for the hysterics she's putting on to power it.
"Ow! What is wrong with you!" She throws herself off of the ground erect and ready to face off her assailant tears or no.
Her mood however, changes the moment she recognizes me. "Sir Taserman." She whispers in a gasp. Her eyes then fall on her lover laying Deadman style on my back, her face contorts ready to give out another terrible series of sobbing.
"It's okay. She's alive, don't cry, please."
"I…I know she's alive."
And thus, I am serenaded by words of thanks, praises, prayers and even more sobbing.
***
After enduring her cries for as long as I can, I finally suggest we get inside and help Leriva to her bed.
Walking in I find Anselm idling around at the back of a large crowd of people all speaking and screaming at once. The chaos is hilarious but educational.
This world or at least this Kingdom relied heavily on the protection and rulership of the Mages, strong Mages. The speculated loss of Leriva, a Mage nearing B-rank as far as I'm told, is significant, especially in these dire straits.
We may have eradicated one camp and liberated a route out of the village but the threat of the other camps still loomed over head.
And with someone like Mathilda left in charge, no offense to her, their panic is warranted. I'm quite surprised they haven't started looting, raping and killing in a frenzy, perhaps they were built of stronger mental constitution than humans back in my world.
It makes sense given monsters, gods and all sorts of magical and natural forces lie in wake waiting to kill and destroy all they know as civilization.
"What's going on?" I ask.
"The man over there, the one from the briefing." Anselm points at the man trying his best to calm the people in front of the Town Hall down with three other uniformed guards who looked terribly distraught, "He's trying to take control, says he has a plan now that Leriva is dead, a plan he wanted to implement but couldn't because of her. Many in the crowd as challenging his audacity to rule but the only other option is…" he trails off as his eyes linger on Mathilda.
"I know I'm no real Mage, most of what I got from Leriva was just minor practice, playfully really. I'm not someone to lead a village, besides, she's right here, she's alive."
"Yeah, that's right, but she's vulnerable. Our guy over there looks like the type to commit regicide than lose his chance at power." I snort, "Not that I blame him."
"Of course, you don't." I don't have to look to see Anselm rolling his eyes at me.
"We should get her up there. She doesn't look good but she's breathing and that should be enough for these people."
In agreement Anselm immediately falls into military mode, slamming his spear on the ground and announcing with likely all the air in his lungs, "Make way!"
With a pointy blade and a mean face in their sights the people quickly part and let us through. Now that we have their attention, the people with sharp eyes quickly recognize their Mayor despite her dishevelled visage and the fact that her feet rolls limply on the ground as we carry her.
The obvious questions and conclusions begin to circulate, and before we get to where the scowling wannabe usurper stood, the crowd was in upheaval yet again.
"So, you survived." He observes.
I smile at him, "Astute observation uh…what's your name?" I ask, letting go of Leriva and letting the many servants in the Hall help Mathilda carry her in.
"I am Lieutenant Dral and I-"
"Dral. Huh, what a name. I don't see your other friend anywhere here, Oteri was it? Guess he didn't survive, a pity." He parts his lips to talk between my pause but I stop him in his tracks, "Have you observed that the Mayor still lives, Lieutenant Dral?"
At this he straightens up. By now Anselm has finished barking silence at the clamouring people at the steps of the Hall.
"The Mayor may yet live but it seems the battle has taken its toll. It will be days, if not weeks before she is fit to defend the people of Carbina, and that is if she survives."
His emphasis on the likelihood of her survival rubs me the wrong way. He is definitely planning something stupid.
He ignores my next words before I get the chance to say them and pushes himself forward, addressing the people gathered directly. "People of Carbina! The Mayor lives!"
The previously tamed crowd cheers and hails the news with vigour so great it reverberates through me. They really love Leriva huh.
"However, she is in dire straits." He continues woefully, I almost believe him too, "She will be weakened until she is fully healed and ready to protect us all once more. Until then I will pick up the heavy burden of leadership during these terrible times."
The cheers are a lot less now. These people aren't stupid, they know enough to question his right to rule in her place, the right for anyone other than a Mage to rule, it's the same thing with Ioina village.
I can hear them questioning if it wouldn't be better to ask the Marquess to send a temporary Mayor in Leriva's place. Of course, Lieutenant Dral ignores this.
"The route to Aste has been freed of the Cultist camps thanks to the efforts of our dearest Mayor, and once we secure it, we will have free movement once more and progress in the reinforcements of our growing city!" Dral begins to get into his bit of monologing and exclaims, "So follow me! People of Carbina, follow me and let us reclaim our future!"
I won't lie, he has the charisma to take power and keep it for a while. Unfortunately, he didn't have true power, not like I did. Clearing my throat, I set my hand on his shoulder and ask, "Lieutenant Dral are you quite finished?"
He shakes off my hand and growls. "Guards! Arrest this man at once!"
A foolish mistake. And I was going to let him live.
"Death Grip." There's no stopping my spell, immediately his feet rise from the floor as I raise him into the air.
"You are no Mage, Dral. You cannot hope to truly protect Carbina, I would let you live but I fear your ambition for power endangers my fellow Mage, Leriva." I squeeze and the pain of rapid necrosis ends along with his life.
Letting his body drop to the ground, I step by it in a crouch and whisper as I inject the fresh corpse with mana, "Create Undead."
While the horrid transformation is underway, I address the shock-stricken people, much of whom have fainted or fallen to their knees in prayer. "From this moment to whenever Leriva, your Mayor recovers, I am your leader, your ruler and your protector. You may address me as Lord Ash or remain silent."
I turn and throw my focus on the trembling guards and perhaps fellow Lieutenants that Dral tried to command, "Form up a team and secure the route, be quick about it."
"Rargh!" My Ghoul screams, it bears no resemblance to Dral, fortunate.
"Go with them, protect them." I command, hoping it understands orders other than attack.
I'm not sure if any of my new spells have a range limit to them so this is a good time to test it out.
I proceed into the Hall as the new, albeit temporary Mayor of Carbina. There is much this place has to provide and I'd take all to my satisfaction before I leave.
***
"I didn't plan on taking over-"
"Of course not, you never plan anything!"
"It was just one of those in the moment kind of things y'know?"
"Yes, I know, most of your actions are results of 'those kinds of things'."
Anselm is upset. Upset for the right reasons too.
I wasn't supposed to take up the mantle of leadership in Carbina. What I was supposed to do was get out of Carbina once the route to Aste was open, I was meant to get out with as many rewards and riches as I could carry too. There is a general goal that drew us to the centre of this March.
"Don't you realize you're being pursued by the Synagogue? Their messages about you had long arrived in Carbina even before we did."
He shakes his head furiously, "It won't be difficult to follow your trail on a map Lord Asher. Once they learn that Carbina is open to Aste we'll be having visitors for sure!"
"How do you even know there are people after us? How do you know the Synagogue hasn't dismissed that Diviners claims?"
I pause hearing the words leave my mouth for the first time and decide that's dumb, "Okay, okay, not that one. I can see they'd take him very seriously what with the dead Mayor and a population clamouring for my presence so I can resurrect their loved one's spirits." I sigh. He's right.
"Still, if the Cultists were the ones keeping them from visiting Carbina I doubt they'd be any trouble for us to handle."
"Perhaps they'd be very easy to kill with your new abilities, but their deaths will reaffirm your power and cause the Synagogue and other towns and villages to take you a lot more seriously than we need."
He huffs, exhausted from trying to make me see reason, "We have to leave, Asher, and soon."
Before I can begin to properly think about the matter, the chamber doors burst open and a man spills forth on his knees, panting and coughing, terribly out of breath.
"Lord Ash!"
"What is it?" I can already tell it's bad news by the mere looks of him.
"My Lord, we've been ambushed at the route, Cultists, they are everywhere!"
"Ughh! Anselm quickly!" I yell, bursting out of the room and out into the Halls.
When I come upon the stairs leading down into the village, I increase my speed and dive off the first of the stairs and into the air.
Anselm is prepared and quickly catches me mid fall before flying off at speed to where we're needed.
"I think we might have to stay a while yet, Anselm."
Over the wind I barely hear his grumbles and objections, but they're there, and he is right yet again.
***
On our arrival I can clearly see that the assailants are Cultists attacking in broad daylight. The men down there have quickly repurposed the wood boards for the station I ordered built to protect themselves from their attackers. It's impressive.
Anselm lets me drop at a safe distance while he goes on to pull off some of the attention from the building crew and their guards.
The Ghoul I summoned earlier, well, about twelve hours ago, has fallen over with inactivity. This means I have to consider range when casting it.
It's the same with the Zombies too unfortunately. I will need to find a fix to this as the system didn't give me much of an explanation to how far I could send my undead, yet another annoyance.
Quickly I start strangling and snapping the necks of the Cultists with Death Grip, they aren't that numerous, only about fifteen in number and they don't even have magic.
Crushing another skull, I idly wonder if the leader I killed was the last one in Carbina's vicinity. That would be fortunate but I doubt my luck is that good, besides, there were four other camps to consider, we've only cleared the one and Leriva mentioned she received a scar trying to kill one of their leaders.
There's a good chance that every camp has a single magic wielding and distributing leader at the centre of it.
However, I needn't be worried; I know how to handle combat them now, and I have the numbers to do it; every dead body that drops to the ground now will rise up as a part of my little army.
In fact, I look forward to my assaults on the other camps.
I'd get to test out more spells in battle and level up some more, the system recognized when I whenever I was in battle somehow and begins to rack up exp for my levels. This was the only way I could grow, that and with Lotar's boons.
I have yet to hear from the 'Great Spirit Wolf', but I'm assured it is watching.
Finally, the last of the Cultists drops dead and the builders and guards are free to come out of their broken defence.
"Thank you, Lord Ash." A gruff looking man says, bowing his head in appreciation.
However…
"You said that monster would protect us!"
This man pushes past the obvious carpenter that thanked me and jabs an accusatory finger in my face. "When those Cultists came with their mouths frothing and their chanting, it did nothing! We lost Aren just trying to send for help, actual help!"
After his outbursts he finds himself once more and shuts up, gulping as he staggered back.
Slapping on a tender and nurturing smile I say, "Yes, you are right, I promised this creature would protect you…no, I promised I would protect you yet not a day after my people are dying."
Stepping forward I snatch his hand from where it hung and clasp it in mine, "I apologize deeply for the loss of your friend. He will be avenged and I will personally see to it and I will also see to it that there are safer working conditions for you and your colleagues. You have more than my word on this, you have my action."
I let his hand go and start walking westward, where I know for certain the next camp lie. "Anselm, stay with them, protect them if anything happens."
"Are you seriously doing this?" his voice is pleading, begging for me not to be serious. Unfortunately…
"Yes, it is apparent I can't have Zombies or Ghouls on ranged assignments, in the first place they aren't even that intelligent." I sigh, disappointed I couldn't stretch the limits of the system, "You will have to stay behind, you have my word I'll be fine."
He rolls his eyes at me and scoffs, "A few people call you Lord all day and now you think you're some honourable noble?" he snickers, "'My word' Quit the play acting and be fast about this, I don't want another crippling situation." This time he outright laughs at the puns he makes at my expense.
"You know you used to call me Great Mage, right? Where's that Anselm?"
"Gone…" he starts, mirth and joy draining from his voice and face, "Along with all hope of being truly alive again."
Right.
For a moment I want to give him hope, to tell him that the spells I've unlocked will simply getting better and better with each level and that soon enough I'll be strong enough to rip his soul right of the ether and stick it into any body I please, that I'd be able to give him life once more.
But I know better than to be naïve, hope like that would only torture him, torture him cruelly.
***
Before I leave for the next camp, I make sure to raise all the dead at the scene. A starting crew would be helpful in my efforts. Although, I found their pace slow and terribly annoying.
Just like Anselm, they expended the mana imbued in them faster if they are moving about too much. Sure, they can charge in and run faster than a normal human but it only lasts so long before they simply fall over from expending all the borrowed mana.
Hopefully the fix to this is increasing my mana capacity as well as becoming familiar with the spell itself, otherwise I'm stuck with a Zombie army that can't even march a mile.
As a result, it takes me quite a bit to make it over to the next camp. I resolve to look for alternative means to store and transport these corpses.
A morbid thought but one prevalent to my continued growth as a Necromancer.
This camp is unlike the other. Instead of an incline it is surrounded and enshrouded by tall bushes, much taller than any of the other shrubbery around. It is glaringly obvious to spot.
I transform two of the fifteen corpses laying on the floor into Ghouls and the rest into Zombies with quick spell casting. A little something I've realized about this system is that its I am not strictly bound to rules and the rules I am bound to are not are not revealed to me.
Because of that I can do things like challenge myself to see how fast I can cast a spell, see how good I can get with it until I don't need the words to activate it any longer.
This is something I played around with especially with Summon Spirit. The spell is now subject to my imagination; if I wanted, I could make only Anselm's head physical or his torso, but I couldn't control how long the spell lasted or how fast mana was consumed, the system did that.
Sending in my little horde, my Ambush is a clear success; none of the Cultists present are ready for an attack.
The Ghouls immediately chopped through vulnerable Cultist after Cultist, slicing and dicing tendons, artery's and limbs with their ridiculously sharp nails.
As they advance, so do I, completely unperturbed as the path is made clear for my step. The ground is soaked in blood, guts and fresh corpses, corpses I enlist in my growing Zombie army.
