The shallow southern gates weren’t as sturdy as the gates on the front which were in direct confrontation with the empires on land. So, the guards, who were too used to lazing around, let us past them without any resistance. I had to show my pass, which wasn’t much of a hassle for me, but for my lady since she was storing it in her pochette.

“Mongrel, will I get to test my spells?” she asked just as we breached the gates.

Trees lined erratically on either side, bushes supplementing much of the empty space. The dwellings weren’t scarce either, and even outside the city premises, people lived, striving harder than the lavish folks within. Thicks roads were well-paved thanks to the trudging carriages, which was a regular means of transport for the ignoble, whether to the store next door or miles away to the port.

“You will, my lady. It’s time for you to get some blood on your hands,” I said, glancing at Garlan, who was pacing a dozen steps ahead of us. He was enquiring about the bandits to the residents outside, who quickly shooed him away for fear that they would get thwacked by the next raid.

“I won’t needlessly kill people,” my lady glanced at me. “Why do you want to see me kill anyway? What kind of pervert are you?”

“Let’s see,” I stared at her with a smile. “I like slaughter, my lady. Blood excites me, just like bread.”

“Are you sure you were a human before?” she asked, with an imperceptible smile on her face. “You seem anything but that. I wish I had seen you kill the prince, though. It would have been a good study session.”

“If you can stomach watching me nipping digits, gouging out eyes, and slithering abdomen with my blood sword, then you are most welcomed to watch, my lady.”

“Doesn’t that sound exciting, mongrel?”

“I suppose it does, but not everyone would share that sentiment.”

“And who is to blame for my uncanny preference to blood and gore?” she asked, taking a step forward and turning around.

“Well, I just did the bare minimum, my lady. You have equal responsibility for getting subdued by my manipulations,” I raised my lips, with her following the suit. She was becoming more interesting each passing day.

“Hey, Rudolf! How come I am getting the least money despite doing all the dirty work for you?” Garlan shouted from one of the residences amidst the towering trees. He earned glares of the inhabitants, but my bread lad was least worried about those, despite already having a blue eye.

“Shall we, my lady?” I asked, and she pulled my hand along as she sauntered toward my bread lad.

“Somehow, I feel like you were made for me, Rudolf,” my lady said, turning around and touching my healed lip. “Just for me. I want to break your legs and tie you to my bed so that others won’t be able to see you, and you won’t ever leave me.”

She said that with a smile, and the seriousness in her tone was enough to creep out anyone. Are my machinations backfiring? Unfortunately for her, I was undead. Spending a hundred years tied up is just fleeting seconds for me.

We walked through the deserted roads, occasionally stumbling across carriages entailing goods from Port Achlon. The escorts greeted Garlan as they passed by us, and my bread lad reciprocated.

“Bandit subjection?” the lady among the bunch asked, her eyes moving away from the portly man and stopping at me for a few seconds, enough to earn a glare from my lady.

“Yeah. You seen them, Cair?” Garlan asked, watching the carriage that didn’t bother to wait for the escort.

“We didn’t, but the last carriage got looted, Garlan. And I heard a couple of newbies got roasted. Talk about roasting reminds of old man's meat. I've been traveling for weeks already. The old man at the tavern beats all culinarians of noble restaurants."

“Feser's still alive, Cair," Garlan laughed. "Also, mages among thieves? That's new. It would be better if they signed up for the guild.”

“They are outlaws from the capital, Garlan. I don’t think anyone in the capital would employ them, let alone the guild.”

“Branded?” I pitched in. My lady grip on my hand tightened, and her face turned sour.

“Yes, on the forehead at that. They usually wear a black bandana, so it’s hard to get a better look. Further, they hunt in groups, and I doubt even you can fend them off, Garlan. Particularly, the infamous bald demon. I suggest turning back. It’s not worth losing your life for a few shins.”

Garlan laughed, patting the woman’s shoulder. “I am Garlan, the undead.”

“More like Garlan, the trickster. Anyway, I warned you. Don’t get your company killed too,” she waved at him and hurried after the carriage, her cutlass dangling from her waist.

I thought he was actually undead for a second there.

Sarcasm is hard to grasp for me. You think sarcasm runs in my veins? I can’t really help you with that.

We walked for more than a mile, and dwellings dwindled as we reached a small lake–amidst smaller trees– reflecting the cloudy sky of the dawn. Sun’s rays glistened the water on top, and my lady was excited to see the fish swimming along. We rested under the shades of a tree, Garlan already out for hunting rabbits in the nearby shallow woods.

“Hey, mongrel,” my lady, who was crouching near the bank of the lake, turned to me. “Can you make the fishes breathe on land?”

“I cannot, my lady. One thing I don’t do is alter nature’s balance. For instance, if I make a new animal that preys on the herbivores, animals that eat grass in the woods, it might result in the influx of the preys in the villages and fields, thereby destroying the wheat vegetation, and may result in bread drought.”

“So, you are worried about bread,” she sighed in exasperation.

“Bottom-line is, I cannot, my lady. Nature is my only companion, so it’s unlikely that I would cause any harm to it.”

“Are you an immortal?”

“More like undead. There’s a subtle difference between the two. Immortal is a general term for those who don’t die, but undead gets revived after dying each time.”

“That’s why you read me that bed story,” she splashed some water before walking in my direction. “You don't want me to become undead.”

“Yes, my lady. It’s my only kindness to you,” I said, quite seriously this time. She understood the weight of my words, for she nodded involuntarily.

“So, you will cheat on me once I die.”

“Have I ever cheated on bread, my lady?” I asked with a grin.

“Then I will look for ways to kill you, mongrel. As much as I trust you, I don’t want to see you living without me. I will claw out your heat or freeze you for eternity!”

I laughed. “Good luck with that, my lady.”

She pouted as she settled down beside me against the trunk and touched my lips. “Did you like it?”

“Like what, my lady?”

“Like my kiss, mongrel! You want me to spell it out for you?!”

“Wasn’t that a bite? It’s not like I have ever been kissed before, but that certainly didn’t seem like one.”

She pulled me by my collar and sealed my lips with hers softly. It was a quick one, and she leaned against me, running her hands through my hair, her breathing already hoarse. She bit my lower lip and pulled it gently, eyeing my face.

“Are you blushing?”

“We undead don’t blush, my lady,” I smiled, wiping my lips that had grown quite warm now.

“Then I will make you the first one,” she whispered my name in my ears and bit my ear lobe. No, I wasn’t blushing. It was the heat of the winter that was making me flush.

Her face had become rosy for all the teasing she was attempting. Sure, Beth and Casey had given her enough good ideas.

She smiled as she pulled away and wrapped her hands around my neck. “You have no idea what you have gotten yourself into, Rudolf. I won’t hesitate to kill you if I cannot have you.”

“And you don’t either, my lady,” I pulled away, much to her regret, but she settled down beside me without any complaints and didn't look at me again.

Garlan returned soon, with skinned rabbits dangling in his hands and sticks under his thick arms. My lady cast [Blast] atop some twigs, and I skewered the rabbit amidst the spices that my bread lad usually carried in his duffel bag. It was a comfortable meal, but my lady couldn’t eat much thanks to the breakfast of the dawn, so I had to finish her half-eaten rabbit.

We walked throughout the afternoon, stopping by an isolated inn in the middle of nowhere, and enquired about the bandits again. The tables on the ground floor were empty, except for one, which was occupied by an old man who held unwarranted suspicion towards us. Well, you can’t blame him, for we had a portly blue-eyed man with us, who looked nothing short of a bandit.

“You seen bandits around, master?” Garlan asked the owner, who was sitting behind the counter opposite the entrance.

“You squad? Subjugation?” the bald man asked, his broken disfigured teeth too eye-catching when he spoke incoherently.

“Mercenaries from the capital,” Garlan said. “And strong ones at that.”

“Looted a carriage. Yesterday,” the man said, looking at the old man and gulped the ale from his mug. “Know more, that man.”

“So he says, old man,” Garlan walked toward the man who shriveled when I approached closer.

You see, some mortals can feel the ominous life force of the undead, so I wasn’t much surprised.

I patted Garlan’s shoulder and walked out of the room after casting [Devil eye] and asked my lady to stay with my bread lad. Interrogating a stranger or a prisoner with words was an excellent skill to master before she resorted to torture.

We undead don’t have the patience to leisurely chat about the weather while interrogating. You leave the job to us, then you expect it done with a corpse.