Their General is furious.

She damned me all the while slicing through my Zombies and deftly fending off the persistent assault of my Ghouls. Being their general or commander and whatnot, she is rightfully displeased by my unrelenting ambush, about now most of her minions were mine now.

Perhaps raising an undead army for an all-out war is improbable, but attacking me in groups of weaklings only gives me the means to overwhelm and kill my opponent. This is the weakness my strength has exploited in my enemy.

Something I noticed during the fight or rather, my stroll through the undoing chaos; it's very apparent that our intel on the numbers we were going to face in the camps was botched, likely because of the scout's incompetence or outright negligence.

But unlike the last camp as well, this camp did not have the overwhelming numbers of the its counter-part through at us.

I don't know if this is because Cultists from this camp reinforced the other while we assaulted it or if this camp was just not that blessed with victims to transform into Cultists.

This turns out to be both fortunate and unfortunate.

Fortunate because I don't have to spend too much time on the minions and unfortunate because I don't have a large enough enemy force rushing to help me test the power and range of Lotar's boon; Circle of Death.

But that isn't to say I don't have other spells to try out.

Right now, the General is prancing about my horde of Zombies, picking them off one by one and in group with powerful elemental blasts and more often than not; pure mana.

Her quick-footed evasiveness put up a challenge for even the persistent Ghouls, this naturally worries me since I have no skill that can strike before she reaches me or protect me from her furious magical swiping.

The thought of a shield also disturbs me as I have yet to unlock a ball busting spell that can break through the domed barrier the last General used. If she deigns to put it up, I'll be helpless.

She cackles at me and screams for more favour from Phien. I've grown tired of hearing the name by now.

It's quite dire looking with my zombies falling over left and right, taking up space all across the field with their unmoving, useless bodies. My Ghouls still struggle to get a good hold on her and one even gets cut down in a single strike that splits it in half, but I'm oddly relaxed.

But I guess that is to be expected; I have a plan and a feasible one too. Using RPG powers with an RTS perspective on things does provide results.

She slashes the final undead in her way and crouches into a beastlike position. She's stuck between growling and laughing at me when suddenly, she bursts into action.

Her feet kick up the dirt behind her as she speeds towards me, her hands veiled in blood red mana that chars the ground as she passes through a field littered with the unmoving corpses of my former undead horde.

As she approaches the half-way point between where she started and where I am, I snap my fingers and activate my newest spell, "Corpse Ignition."

Instantly the entire field is unearthed.

The General is blasted back and forth across the exploding field and through an unmerciful shower of shrapnel made of bones, teeth, pieces of organs and the sharp rock underneath the exploding corpses.

When the cloud of dust that fills the air finally settles, I'm feeling very pleased with myself. I step in for a closer look and find that the General lies crippled and nigh limbless on the ground with necrotic energies eating at her skin.

Best part is she no longer has the mouth to speak and cry out to Phien any longer; her jaw has been blasted away along with a significant portion of her chest which I can see is riddled with bones.

She starts to moan and croak something at me and again I find myself being impressed by how resilient these Cultist Generals were. Here she lied at my feet, lungs skewered by bone, teeth and stone. Her limbs broken and torn off by hurtling rocks and yet she spoke or tried to anyway.

Snapping her neck with Death Grip is an easy feat now. Finished with this camp I decide to head back to Carbina. As I do I admire the chaos I wroth on the land, there are craters everywhere and misplaced and mismatched bloody body parts all around.

Corpse Ignition.

It's level fifteen spell apparently. As of now I'm just level eleven, when I executed it, I was still level nine.

I shake my head at myself. If I knew all it took to level up fast and gain proficiency in the eyes of the System was to fight, I would have probably stay around the cave a while longer to attack those Goblins some more.

At level nine I barely had enough proficiency to execute the spell and it did require proficiency with Necromancy. The spell requires…preparation. This is very new and nothing like what I'm used to.

[Corpse Ignition- Infuses mana within a corpse and prepares it for ignition.]

[Requires: At least one corpse, time.]

The System's description of the spell is terribly straightforward. Fortunately, while casting it on the many undead I sent out to delay the General, I felt and understood to some extent what the System was directing my mana to do.

The System took my mana and moulded it into some sort of dormant but active state then infused it in the corpse. From there the mana just knew what to do while in the corpse, I guess. That part I'm unsure of, but I felt complex instructions and commands being given during each infusion.

What I felt the most and without effort was the tread connecting me to the corpses that were prepped to be blown up. I could feel a string on my lips and at my fingertips, like the detonator of a bomb in my hand.

It also felt like I did with Summon Spirit, with Anselm. Even now I can feel his being tied to mine by the System, if I wished I could pull him from wherever he was and he would come flying, at least I feel so. I hope to learn more with higher Necromancy Proficiency.

With the Ghouls and Zombies, I raised, as well as the Corpse ignition I cast, my mana is at its limit. I was taking quite a risk with the spell, if it failed to kill or incapacitate the General then I'd have to turn tail for sure; I'd just blown up all the vital ingredient for creating an undead after all.

My assurance of safety if such were to occur was Lotar's boon. The Circle of Death spell did not run on my mana, at least, that's what the system tells me.

Level fifteen and below spells worry me though. The description for the spells begins to include more and more requirements and ingredients for a successful casting. The instantaneous spells that required mana alone begin to dwindle the lower I look, and I only see spells up to level thirty. I wonder how bad it becomes at higher levels.

Sighing, I don't let any of that bother me now, if that's how the spells became then I'd have to get used to it, not much choice other than that anyway. For now, I worry myself with spells that were just outside my reach because my proficiency isn't high enough as of yet.

The most useful being the bone series; there are a lot of bone-based spells starting from level fourteen and up.

There's also the blood series but that requires…blood. My blood or the blood of someone else of course. But I don't want to bother with it, I need instantaneous spell casting right now and the bone series did the trick.

First up is my defence, Lotar mentioned that the only reason I would be able to use his boons would be because of his lasting favour. I don't see a bar that measures how much of his favour I had left, at least not yet so I have to use Circle of Death sparingly.

I know killing these Cultist Generals has me in his book of good or something, but only three more of the Generals remain and once I've exhausted them all I can't be sure I'll be coming across anymore soon.

That's why I have to unlock Bone Shield.

Despite the straightforward name, it turns out it doesn't create a generic shield for me to hold up. Instead, it uses bones from the surroundings or rather nearby corpses to form a spinning defence around me that sends out bones to take incoming attacks.

Here I can understand the Systems blunt naming, 'floating bones that protect' wouldn't sound as cool during spell casting.

"Welcome back, Lord Ash."

"Huh?" Looking up I find my legs had long brought me to the entrance of Carbina. Aware of myself now I find my legs throb and ache. "Ugh. Keep guard. I'll be at Town Hall."

Walking past the stiff guard and into the pseudo city, I find it bustling with a vibrance and urgency in the step of the people that just wasn't there before, especially not when I first arrived here.

"Lord Ash!" I hear a familiar voice call ahead. I find Anselm and Mathilda along with a small group of men and women that heaving bushels of food onto the back of a carriage headed by two neighing horses.

"Hello Mathilda," I greet. Since I put her in charge of the actual running of the village, she'd brightened up so much more. "I see you have things running as they should."

"Yes milord, this is the first caravan we've prepared to send to Aste or anywhere else in close to two years." She beams, "Everyone is eager to contribute to the effort. Thank you for giving me this opportunity, Lord Ash. I don't know what I would do with myself if I was idle."

I snort. She's reading a lot into this. To me I was really just pawning off the bureaucracy of ruling to those with actual administrative skills, after all, the hallmark of good leadership lies in one's ability to delegate, no?

"Just keep doing what you're doing and I'll clear the way. I've just come back from the second Camp."

"Are you alright?" she asks, worry and fear clouds her face.

"Yes, I'm fine, I just need to recover my strength. Help me gather up some labourers and give them another carriage. The tell them I'll be down with them in an hour or two."

"Going to the third camp already?" Anselm asks, he's been eying my body for serious injury and signs of extreme exhaustion.

Heh. Fortunately, none of that is present; I didn't get thrown about this time.

"Yes, since the first one I have only grown stronger and stronger Anselm. I say it's unwise not to wipe them all for the sake of my growth." I grin, at the future I envision in my mind, "Soon you won't have to worry one bit about my safety Anselm and soon, I'll actually be considered strong enough to have killed Perlman all by my lonesome."

He rolls his eyes at me. "Whatever you say, Lord Asher. Just know that when this caravan makes it to Aste, so does news of your being here."

"Can't you just tell them to shut up about me?" I grumble.

He only offers me a cold stare. I sigh, "Right, there'd be no point in that. People will always talk."

"That's right. So, prepare for a fight with the Synagogue, an actual fight."

***

It's the third day of my prolonged stay in Carbina.

The third day since the first camp was cleared out and I publicly transformed a man into a Ghoul. It is also the second day since the Caravan was sent out to Aste for trade and news about the happenings in the Kingdom of Ire.

That's right, I finally learned the name of the Kingdom I'm in.

It turns out Mathilda is a treasure trove of unexpected but useful information. For instance, the cave I came out from was likely in the Holy Theocracy of Veril, the place that housed the HQ of the Synagogue and many of the Synagogues high officials.

The Theocracy also exerted control over the rest of the continent through its position at the centre and just happens to be overflowing with riches and gold despite having only one port city.

Or at least, that's what Mathilda says.

I'm still not sure their story with the Synagogue; they expressed little faith in the Following and even less in the powers of a Diviner.

Maybe I should ask, I have a feeling it'll be one heck of a story.

But that'll have to wait until I get back, right now I'm seated at the front seat of a carriage filled with men wearing gloves and cloths over their noses.

We're headed to the first camp to gather up the bodies there for my next assault on the camps.

I was meant to do this yesterday but as soon as my head hit those soft luxurious pillows, I fell asleep instantly. And by the time I woke up the men I asked for had long dispersed.

I didn't see any point bringing them out of their homes at night time to carry some corpses for me, so naturally I went back to sleep.

No doubt, Anselm did not approve of my laziness. But I can't hear him nag at me now, mostly because I haven't summoned him all day and I really don't want more nagging; He's right and I am getting on it.

With my current levels and proficiency, I think after my one-man awesome assault on the next camp, I'll have levelled up enough and gained the right amount of proficiency to start using the bone and maybe even the blood series.

Once I do clear all the camps, there won't be much else to do here, nothing to stay for. I expect to stay a day more and leave in tomorrow's afternoon.

For Carbina's sake I hope Leriva wakes up before I leave.

Mathilda, her primary caretaker, has explained to me that the mana exhaustion she went through from trying to keep the Amphitere she summoned around is this severe because her pathways are damaged.

I don't understand any of the pathway talk she gave me but the gist of it is that her MP was exhausted yet her spell demanded more, so her body instinctively began to absorb raw, external mana, the purest it can get.

This type of mana is a no-no for humans or any living thing in general, her comatose state is just her recovering from the damage absorbing mana from the atmosphere did to her pathways. She won't be awake until her pathways can keep her own mana in and external mana out once again.

It honestly sounds like a cycle; the more external mana comes in, the more damage it does, hindering the repairs of her pathways. Unless she can heal faster than the world can kill her then I can only hope for a miracle.

The carriage slowly comes down to a stop at the incline of the first camp. We can't go down because we won't be able to come back up with the carriage.

"Ugh! This place stinks!" one of the labourers yells.

"What do you expect, its decaying corpses!"

"Yeah, and they've been out here for days, in the sun. Better get moving else this place will smell some more. The faster you work the earlier you get to leave and the earlier Carbina is safe from more of these Cultists thanks to Lord Ash. Now get moving you lazy, drunken bums!"

The men laugh and concur with their foreman's words. I'm glad the tall tanned man is here to motivate the men to their purpose. I could have convinced them myself, just not without some if not most harbouring poor feelings towards me.

I stay up in the carriage and wait for them to finish loading up the carriage with the bodies. With them piling up at the back I realize I have it worse than these men, I'd have to ride all the way to the third camp with these bodies punishing my nostrils all the way through.

I wish there's some Necromancy spell to get used to the stench of death and decay, unfortunately there isn't.

There's a lot of convenient spells too, my favourites being just out of my reach, requiring level twenty-four and twenty-seven, as well as a lot of preparation for the last one. I call up the spell list just to stare at it and daydream about how useful it'll be to me.

[Dark Step: Allows user to displace an undead in range.]

[Requires: At least one Undead.]

[Familiar: Creates a permanent fiendish familiar out of the prepared components.]

[Requires: One whole skull, casters vial of blood, salt, and a medium amount of coal.]

Dark Step would essentially let me teleport around the field and deftly avoid the reach of my frustrated opponents, leaving an undead in my place. I can't see the mana cost yet but I trust I'll be able to handle it once I reach level twenty-four.

Familiar, well, the spell is permanent and won't require constant mana upkeep. Much, dare I say it, unlike Summon Spirit. Having a familiar will help me in battle, besides, I like the idea of having a large bear following my every command.

Well, maybe not a bear but, I'll figure all that later.

"Sir, uh I mean, Lord Ash," the foreman bites his tongue over the proper way to address me, I only chuckle though that only seems to make him even more nervous.

"You are forgiven, go ahead."

He nods thankfully, "The back is full, the men want to know if you require any more assistance, say a driver to the camp?"

"No, that won't be necessary, besides, it'll be unsafe for whoever comes with me. Tell the men to have a good day, I'll be fine on my own."

With that out of the way I whip the horses forward to my next set of victims.

***

Just like last time, with the second camp, I send out my undead to cut down the Cultists. Also, like last time, I can tell at a glance that their numbers are not as plentiful as they were in the first camp.

However, unlike last time, I prepared the corpses to ignite before heading out for the assault. This is a huge help since the carriage could only carry so many corpses stack up on each other.

I let some Zombies be swarmed and ignite them in a fanciful flash of guts, bones and teeth. A few of these helped cut down the cultists, but when powered by their Generals magic, it is as if they became more intelligent.

Seeing their comrades become victims of corpses exploding in their faces they became more cautious in their attacks, preferring ranged attacks to their usual swipes.

I let the Ghouls close the gaps with those unwilling to face us. Meanwhile I…

"So, you have come to befoul the presence of Phien with your stench of unbelieve and despair?" Is the General's immediate address upon seeing me.

"Despair? I've been feeling quite chipper mind you." I chuckle but it's hard to hide how truly nervous I am facing this General.

He is unlike any of the previous Generals but because of that, I'm beginning to see a pattern in the differences. The first held magics of all kind and could fend off Leriva and her summons twice and would have survived longer than Leriva could keep the Amphiptere summoned if it weren't for Anselm.

The second failed to empower her minions with stronger magics and relied mainly on herself and her speed to fight me off.

And here comes the third, towering massively over me. Standing close to the height Leriva's Hounds achieved, his body is toned and he wore nothing above his waist, showing off a and absurdly sturdy body.

"You laugh despite garnering the ire of Phien? You overestimate yourself, Pluzur, or do you call yourself Asher now?" He snorts, "No matter the name you hide behind, the power of Phien will yet prevail. Now die."

His fist shoots at me but meets the unforgiving ground instead as I hop back at the last second. As his fists make impact where I stood before I barely manage to get onto my feet again after falling over.

Without pause he draws back his other fist and sends it hurtling at me with the full indignation of the being he served.

BOOM!

At the last moment, I roll out of the way as yet again his fist makes a crater where I sat.

"You will not take your death still? You intend to make me chase you, do you?" He snorts, like a bull, his bare body visibly steaming as he slams his giant palms on the ground.

I feel a wave of mana pass underneath, it has my hairs standing on end and my gut in a knot.

Then, all around us the ground shakes violently as it spits itself out in a giant reinforced wall that encloses us in a ring.

Satisfied with his work he rises to his height and fashions a weapon, an axe from the ground beneath his feet, "I will not."

I realize, I may be unprepared.