Chapter Twenty-Two - Novel Necromancy

The first order of business, post-battle, was often to loot the dead.

This was a universal thing, done by adventurers for centuries. It was so ubiquitous that it had been mentioned in song and legend for eons before I was even born.

Necromancers, of course, did it better.

We did not just loot the dead. We looted the dead.

Oh hohoho!

“Seventeen, perhaps the limpet could learn a thing or two from watching you raise those who fell tonight,” I said.

Seventeen bowed at the waist. “Of course, sir.” he turned to the limpet. “Shall we?”

The limpet nodded. She seemed fairly eager to see how raising the dead worked, which I suppose was natural, it was the signature spell of the necromantic arts. She wasn’t quite at the level of skill I’d expect her to be at for her to be able to raise the dead just yet. Still, seeing it done might assist her later, depending on how much attention she paid to the process.

Seventeen and the limpet headed off towards the rapidly-lightening beach. The sun was only just tempting itself to rise, turning the sky towards a pale blue.

With the limpet and Seventeen gone, that left just myself, Alex, and our two new mantis companions. “Well then,” I began. “Shall we communicate your surrender to your soldiers?-”

Mem tilted her head to the side, then bobbed her head up and down. “Mem thinks that’s a good idea. We need to explain to Mem’s humans what’s going to happen.” Mem’s arms lowered a fraction. “They’re not going to be too happy with Mem.”

“Now now, you did your best given the circumstances you were in,” I said.

It wasn’t just an empty reassurance, the mantis, for all that she was seemingly rather clumsy, and perhaps ill-suited to warfare in general, had fared better than her more aggressive sisters and the presumably educated cultivators that had come with her.

She had benefited from a great deal of luck, of course. Were the undead in my army more vicious, were the limpet more blood-thirsty, then her entire situation would be far more dire. But then, luck was a tangible factor at times.

I had the impression that life, when it came to Mem, was playing with weighted die.

I stood from the stone I’d been seated at and patted down my pants. Alex perked up and came a little closer. “Do you need anything prepared, Daddy?”

“Perhaps. Could you and your... apprentice prepare some food for the prisoners. If we’re to escort them all the way west, then they’ll need to walk on full stomachs.”

“We can do that,” Alex said. “Come on, Rem, I packed some food in the carriage, just in case. Mister Seventeen helped me grab some crabs from the bottom of the ocean. I have some citrus too, we could make a nice sauce and roast the crab to go with it.”

Alex grabbed Rem by the scythe and pulled her along after him. The mantis, surprisingly, didn’t protest as much as she usually did. How very curious.

“Mem has a question,” Mem asked. She had raised an arm, a schoolchild wanting a teacher’s attention.

“Ask away,” I said.

“Mem and her sisters and all the cultivators, mean and less mean, were all sent out to find a big bad undead man.”

“Yes.”

“And that undead man was supposed to wear a brown jacket, and pants, and he was supposed to feel very strong, and be a skeleton,” Mem recited. She pointed towards me. “Are you the scary undead that Mem’s Mom wants her to fight?”

“That would be me, in all likelihood,” I said.

Mem nodded. “You feel very strong, Mister. Mem doesn’t know if you’re stronger than Mom, but you feel that way. Do you think Mem or her sisters could hurt you?”

“I have my doubts,” I said.

“Then...” Mem slumped a little. “Mem was just a distraction then.”

Had I eyebrows, they would have risen. “An interesting conclusion to reach with so little evidence. Could you walk me through the thought process?”

Mem tilted her head. “Mem’s not strong enough, but Mem can be very clumsy and distracting. Mom said so once. She sent Mem to talk to diplomates a whole bunch of times, especially when Mom wanted them to underestimate Mom.”

“So you’re... a diplomat?” I asked.

Mem stood a bit taller. “I’m a diplomem.”

How very endearing. “Well then, diplomem Mem, shall we see to your human companions?”

Mem nodded, and I stepped up next to her, both of us making our way back towards where Mem’s humans were waiting. The soldiers had taken to slouching or sitting back, most of them with their heads bowed under the constant stares from the undead surrounding them. They looked like men who had surrendered in full.

When we came close enough to be seen, they perked up, some of them looking genuinely happy to see Mem, though that only brightened their moods by so much.

Mem raised and wiggled her arms. “Mem surrendered to the nice undead, to one of her sisters, and to a little girl. Mem is now a dog-walker, which means that everyone is safe and good now.”

One of the soldiers, a young man that seemed a little smarter than the others, cleared his throat. “It’s good to see you well, ma’am. Have you, ah, negotiated our release?”

Mem nodded. “Yes. This scary undead person will explain better than Mem can.”

I held back an amused chuff. “I suppose I can do that much,” I said. “We will be moving westward soon, which means that we will be crossing the area around the Lava Fist sect. You will be handed over to the sect, if they are willing to take you. What they’ll do with you in their custody is between yourselves and the sect. I suppose that they might try to recruit some of you, but I doubt they’ll insist upon anything. Is that acceptable?”

The humans looked between each other, but they seemed wise enough to infer that the last question was rhetorical in nature.

“Sir,” one of them asked. “What about Mem?”

“Mem here has agreed to work for the leader of the undead that assaulted your camp.”

“Oh,” the soldier said. “And, ah, what about our dead?”

“They’ll be joining the ranks of the undead, or course. Now, if you’re done with the questioning, I have other business to attend to. Mem, I presume it’s safe to leave you with your humans. If you need anything, find myself, Alex or the limpet.”

“Mem can do that,” she said.

“Alex should be preparing food for the mortals around here, he is usually quite effective and fast when preparing such things.”

Mem bobbed her head up and down. “Thank you scary undead man,” she said.

I returned the nod, then stepped away. I could feel someone playing with necromantic magics nearby, so I followed my senses until I found Seventeen standing next to a row of dead bodies set out on the sandy beach. Some skeletons were moving more bodies into place.

The limpet stood behind Seventeen, her nose scrunched up in distaste, but she was still paying attention to the skeleton’s motions. “Choosing what form your undead will take is an important first step,” Seventeen was saying. “Look at this young man. Good bones on him, but he’s missing an arm, and his stomach was cut open. I’ve no doubt you can smell the contents of his bowels.”

“Yes, yes I can,” the limpet said.

“This would be a great candidate for zombie-hood. Zombies are a little better than skeletons at direct combat, and tend to have a stronger psychological impact on living adversaries. Better yet, a zombie can later be re-raised as a skeleton if it rots too much.”

“Fascinating,” the limpet said.

“Indeed! Now, making something like an abomination is perhaps a little too advanced for you right now, so we’ll keep to the simpler undead. Has anyone shown you how to see if a body still has some soul left in it?”

“No,” the limpet said. “I thought dead was dead.”

“Sometimes, someone is only mostly dead,” Seventeen said. “That’s a great opportunity to create some will-o’-wisps or ghosts or other ephemeral undead. Always remember, ephemeral first, solid second.”

I arrived, interrupting the lesson somewhat, especially as the limpet took the opportunity to step closer to me, and farther from the bloated bodies. “Hey master,” she said.

“We were hardly apart for more than a moment. I think I might steal Seventeen for a moment though.”

“Yes my lord?” Seventeen asked.

“I think it’s time to raise your fortress,” I said. “Perhaps have it join us as we move west. I suspect it can move at a decent pace.”

“It has been some centuries since I’ve tested its land-speed, and that was before some of the extensive modifications I brought to it, my lord. But I’m certain that it will be able to move to accommodate whatever needs you may have.”

“Brilliant,” I said. “I was thinking that perhaps conquering the region might be educational. We can institute educational reform, at the very least. I’m also curious about the undead armies from the north. It might be interesting to go and meet them.”

“Your will shall be done, my lord,” Seventeen said. “Will the limpet be leading this army?”

“Hmm? Well, I suppose we could let her capture a town or two.”

“I don’t know if I’m ready to do something like that,” the limpet said.

“Oh, capturing a town is simple,” I said. “It’s figuring out what to do after that that’s complicated. Logistics are the true opponents in a war. Fortunately, these are simpler with an undead army. Another reason why necromancy is a superior wartime magic.”

The limpet frowned. “I’m not sure if that’ll help me reach my goal of becoming really really strong though.”

“Strength isn’t everything,” I said. “At least, not in the way I suspect cultivators see it. Look at Seventeen here. He’s decently powerful as a wizard, but I suspect most sects have a few cultivators that could fight and defeat him with relative ease. At the same time, he could bring a small nation to its knees. Not through the strength of his arms, but because of his ability to plan and coordinate and of course create, a large armed force.”

The limpet hummed. “Well, I suppose. The idea of being able to fight and lay waste to things on my own is just a lot more... um.”

“Romantic?” I tried.

She nodded. “I guess that fits.”

“It’s an understandable feeling. We often desire personal power. But that’s no reason to discount other sorts. Magic is quite similar. Some of the most devastating spells are the simple ones given to someone with the right mindset and enough creativity.”

“I’ll have to work on that, I guess,” the limpet said. “When can I start raising the dead?”

I tapped my chin. “You’re not there yet, I don’t think, but perhaps teaching you one more necromantic spell wouldn’t be a terrible idea.”

The limpet perked up. “Really?”

“Certainly. We can even practice on-route to the Lava Fist. I think Cause Fear would be a good next step. It’ll get you used to necromantic magics of the next tier, at the very least.”

“Thank you master! I’ll do my best.”

I pat her on the head. “I’m certain you will,” I said.

Now, I just had to see about taking over this little corner of the world. For its own good, of course.