Fascinated by this new specimen of death energy, the Necromancer wasted no time. Standing on the tips of his toes, he reached up to the distinctive cloud and brushed his fingers through its viscous mass. A quiver went across Emil’s body as he pushed his hand into it. But unlike some other instances with his abilities, it wasn’t a reaction provoked by a sensation of extreme chill. No, it was something entirely different. He felt like a jolt of electricity had just sent a shock through him.

As he remained in physical contact with the cloud, the world before him shifted. What came next was a vision of the preceding moments up to the spellcaster’s death. As per usual, Emil saw everything from her perspective. The first part of it was spent on the idle chatter shared between her and the other bandits. None of it contained any information that was actually important. That bit of conversation was largely just complaints about being stuck in the cold as lookouts instead of getting to sleep.

But aside from that, one part of the vision did draw his attention. Like he had seen from the treeline, ambient Mana was steadily being absorbed into her body. From her worldview, he could feel the energy flowing in the air and into her skin. Mana that restored points to her Mana Level, and then could be used to create magic and cast spells.

As the spellcaster sat there, she held out a hand in front of herself, and channeled a little of her arcane power. From each of her flexed fingers, streaks of electrical current met over the center of her palm. Emil could feel how much genuine joy she felt as she stared down at the arcs of controlled lightning.

Then as the time of the expected end did arrive, it came quickly. There was a sudden sensation of acute coldness in the woman’s back. Then a split-second afterward, an intense tightness in her chest accompanied by searingly hot pain.

But just as soon as her mind actually registered the agony, it was already over. As her lifeless body crumpled to the ground, the vision also ended. When his senses returned to reality, Emil took the time to reflect on the vision itself.

From its position directly over her corpse, she had obviously been the source of the unique cloud of death. But now that he knew at least one type of magic she had been able to use. And it was one that made him glad he noticed the spellcaster and had taken her down first.

From his experience as a Mage, Lightning Magic was not as commonly known as fire. However, it was still considered the second or third most commonly learned type of elemental magic. But in terms of destructive potential, he had heard stories of awe-inspiring feats by those who reached the peak of mastery over it. Of the tales he knew of, just one had been well-documented with enough trusted sources to be taught as a historical fact.

However, it had been something he was taught in his first semester at First Light Academy. So with how long it had been since then, his memory of the details was not the clearest. Perhaps at some point, he would take the time to find a book to read as a refresher. On that note, Emil decided to take in some of the energy before he removed his hand. At the very least, he still needed to replenish the Mana spent from the Death Magic.

As the dark miasma was absorbed through his palm, he could feel the pulses of arcane lightning contained within. Their shocking jolts were faint, yet could definitely be picked out from the rest of the death energy. But as it was pulled into his body, he noticed that the sensation disappeared entirely. Like the power was being stripped of its elemental affinity, and simply reduced down to the normal variant of death-based fuel for his Mana.

+50 Mana acquired

Conversion into a usable form is required

Estimated conversion time: twenty-five minutes

After he pulled his hand away and rested his feet back onto the ground, Emil glanced over to the pop-up. But as he read the System notification’s last line, his eyes widened. Since becoming undead, the conversation rate had been an even minute for every point of Mana. Yet clear as day, this was listed at only half of that expected duration. It had to be an effect of the Lightning Magic infused in it, that was the only reasonable factor.

But why? The death energy generated by the flame boar and everything surrounding them didn’t do this. But then, the arcane flames their memory orb contained was the conduit that gave me Unholy Fire Magic. Can the difference be due to the potency of the magic wielded before one dies? The flame boar’s clouds had become mixed in with all the other things that died back then. Yet in this case, its properties let it both remain separate and showed as a change in its appearance.

The Necromancer wondered if that theory was the case. Since boar had no souls as mindless animals, and the spellcaster’s own soul had passed on, he didn’t believe that to be the direct cause. But that was a different story as an indirect reason. The general belief was that a soul is what separates the abilities of human spellcasters from crude magical beasts. Since it allows one to practice and refine their arcane spells through the System. From his personal experience as a ghost, that belief was something he could accurately affirm.

However, at the end of the day, what Emil required was a larger sample pool. If he had more examples to compare and contrast from, then a more decisive conclusion could be made. As of right now, he only had one case of death energy for both magical beast and human spellcaster. Plus there were still monsters to factor in as well. If he could find one that had an organic body, unlike the ice elemental, then it could only give him more information.

On that conclusion to his train of thought, he looked back over to the nobleman. In the few minutes since he last looked, Faustus had seemingly yet to move from place. Emil would still need to collect the rest of the death clouds and condense them into memory orbs. But the ones in each tent would be fairly securely trapped inside. Even the miasma above him would take at least a few hours longer to dissipate.

Since he wasn’t in an immediate rush, he decided to hold off on it for a little longer. It would take him a little while to get them all, which could potentially catch the other man’s attention and invite more questions from him. He figured it would be better to remain discrete, and wait until Faustus couldn’t see what he was up to. With that decision made, he began to walk over to the noble in question.

“You’ve been staring at those guards for a little while now,” Emil commented as he stopped beside Faustus. Still staring at the undead, his expression was that of furrowed brows and pursed lips. But when Emil spoke, the other man rapidly blinked as though snapped out of a daze.

“Hmm, I suppose I have, yes. Tell me, would you happen to recognize this symbol? Faustus asked as he pointed to the left side of one’s chest. The symbol in question was one that all the guards had shared in their outfits. Though the undead’s armor was partially stained with blood, he could still make out the dove with fully spread wings.

“I imagine it’s the crest for a family or clan. But I don’t know which one it belongs to, if that’s what you’re asking.” In response to his honest answer, Faustus nodded. Granted, Emil was definitely sure he had seen it in the guards’ memories. But when the act of splitting their souls required all his concentration, those were the kinds of details he had to gloss over.

“Well, that is the conundrum I find myself currently dealing with. For I know that I indeed recognize it, and should be able to recall to whom it belongs. Yet for the life of me, it refuses to escape the tip of my tongue. I believe it must belong to a house of minor nobility in Vermila. But under normal circumstances, I have even the lowest noble family’s name and associated crest committed to heart.” The noble sighed. He crossed his arms, and looked at Emil.

“Would these undead so happen to be capable of speech? It would be quite convenient if they could simply reveal the answer to any inquiries about their lives,” Faustus inquired.

Emil just shook his head in response. There actually was a way for him to find the answer at that moment. But as far as the noble knew, the Necromancer’s abilities had no relation to a human soul.

The most Faustus knew was that he could see and speak with ghosts, but Soul Manipulation itself was something Emil chose to keep a strict secret. However, he also didn’t trust his ability to directly lie compared to simply omitting information. So instead, he decided to just remain silent about it.

“That is a pity, though not entirely unexpected. I would suppose that even if they could speak, it is reasonable that a corpse would not inherently remember the person they once were. As you mentioned before, they are simply the flesh that is left behind after their soul departs this world. But if you would be so kind, perhaps you could escort me to the site of the attack? Once there, I may be able to find something to jog my memory. It would need to wait till morning though, of course.”

Faustus uncrossed his arms and blew into his gloves, before he rubbed them together. At that point, the noble began to turn away from the undead guards. The Necromancer still beside him, the two of them continued to converse as they walked back toward the large tent.

“I wouldn’t mind that, it shouldn’t be any trouble at all. But can I ask why you want to know so much? Is it just for the sake of knowing, or is there a more specific reason?” Emil asked.

“Ah, yes. As a matter of fact, there is one purpose in particular. Under normal circumstances, common travelers or local soldiers will be the ones to stumble across the site of the assault. In which they would be the ones to officially inform the relatives of the noble. As the heir of the Ubel family, I simply wish for my signature and stamp to be what is on that letter.”

“So you basically just want credit then,” Emil said as they entered the tent. It was his turn to cross his arms over each other as he stayed by the entrance. Faustus, however, went over to warm himself by the fire. Emil watched as the noble sat down on the carpet and made himself comfortable.

“In a simple manner of speaking, I suppose that summary is accurate.” Faustus shrugged as he stared into the flames. “In the world of Vermilan aristocracy, there is little that is more important than one’s reputation. If the most minor nobility can form the right kind of connections with an upper house, they will soon find themselves raised to a higher station. Conversely, it can lead one to make enemies with those far more influential than themselves,” the noble grimly concluded while gesturing to the area surrounding them.

“Huh. You never did say exactly how it was that you were captured by these bandits.” Emil leaned back onto the wall of the tent. The implication in the other man’s last statement was clear enough.

To that, the nobleman began to chuckle. He pressed a fist over his mouth and attempted to suppress the laugh. The Undead Human raised an eyebrow as he wondered what exactly was so funny. After a few moments, Faustus turned toward Emil with a sardonic smirk. He then cleared his throat, and his face quickly went back to a calmer expression.

“Apologies, that reaction was rather uncouth for one in my position. To explain, whenever I converse with someone, I like to see how long it takes for them to broach the important topics of that discussion. So I was simply wondering how long it would take for the story of my run-in with those hooligans to come up. You may call it a bad habit of mine.”

“I see…” Emil simply replied. The noble waved a hand for him to come closer. Slightly reluctant, he did so and kneeled down beside the other man. With a hushed voice reminiscent of an excited child sharing a secret, Faustus leaned slightly forward as he began to speak.

“But if it would be of any consultation, you were still far better than the average noble. They will often go on and on for hours about every little thing and subject of unimportance. Even when I attempt to be blunt but still as polite as possible in redirecting them to a paramount matter, they rarely register the hint. Ah, not to say that you were discussing anything so dismissable. I just wish to clarify that was merely the common example, before you are offended by the apparent comparison,” Faustus said with a small smile.

“Thank you for the compliment?”

“Think nothing of it, I merely pointed out my observed experience. Though I will express that very few amongst the nobility are aware of this little habit of mine. So consider it another sign of confidence from myself, now that you have been entrusted with this secret. But if you ever happen to be in a position that allows for rubbing shoulders with them, I will ask that you do be so kind as to keep it to yourself.” Faustus leaned back away from Emil, and returned to a normal tone as he continued.

“But yes, I do believe my capture by these brigands was an orchestrated event. Almost three weeks prior to today, I was enjoying what was to be a refreshing ride through the countryside. Due to that simple nature, I only required a mere handful of attendants to accompany me. But just as we entered this area and were about to turn back to start the journey back to the family estate, a rain of arrows came down.”

Faustus took a deep breath as he stared into the fireplace. Emil could see the dancing flames in the reflection of the noble’s eyes. For a few seconds, the fire’s crackles were the only noise that could be heard. But then Faustus released the held breath as a heavy sigh, and continued.

“I, of course, was the only survivor. They took a club to the back of my head, and that is all I can remember for the rest of that day. But when I awoke the next morning with a searing headache, it was while tied up in the back of a carriage. I was alone in the back, while two men with rather loose tongues sat at the front. I believe the rest of their group surrounded the carriage and moved with it. And though my ears were still ringing, I could still make out the loud conversation they had.”

“They had apparently been contacted by an individual for my capture. The agreement was half upfront, and then the rest after they delivered me to this client. They didn’t specify an exact sum, only that the first half was already more than a year’s worth of looting and ransoming for them. But they did also mention that it was a pile of silver and gold coins large enough to bathe in. As such, I am quite certain only a noble could provide such a quantity of wealth. Their ingenious leader, however, seemed to have an alternative plan.” He nodded his head toward the corpse still on the floor.

“Rather than drop myself off and take their winnings, they decided to hedge their luck on a potentially superior prize. Where rather than remain faithful to their prior agreement, they would instead attempt to ransom me back to my family. When they later stopped to make camp, they adjusted the bindings to free my hands. Then with a blade against my neck, I was made to write and sign a letter as per their instructions. They added my family pendant along with it as proof, and had it sent off to be received by the Ubel estate. After which, it was simply a matter of awaiting a reply. However, while it was a sound idea in theory, they really should have honored their original compact.”

“May I ask what makes you say that?” Emil asked. The noble picked a bit of fluff out of his coat, and flicked it into the fire. The tiny piece instantly disappeared as soon as it entered the flames.

“For a plain reason, really. Though they could not have known this, especially since I chose to keep quiet about it. But let us just say that my father is not someone who would have bowed to their demands. Not only would he not have given them a single coin, but they also would never even receive a response. Even if they had later decided to cut off a finger or ear as an additional threat, nothing would change. If you had come along just another day or two later, I believe they might have reached that point. So that can be said to be the reason for my particularly high level of gratitude to you,” Faustus concluded.

“Hmm. Well, I suppose I’m glad that I arrived just in time then. But there is something else that I am curious about. I don’t see any carriages, horses, or any other kinds of transportation outside. They would have needed some for just all the furniture in this tent alone. Would you happen to know what’s going on for that?” He queried. The noble thought about the question for a moment, and then nodded.

“Indeed I would. It would also most certainly relate back site of dead guardsmen you came across. Save a few to keep an eye on me, nearly all of the brigands left shortly before this morning’s sunrise. They were quite in a good mood as they collected their weapons and became prepared to go, I might add. Yet when they returned a few hours later, however, their disposition was entirely reversed. Their leader had been among those who had stayed behind, and gone out to meet them upon their return. I could not hear the exchange they shared, at least not until he began to yell with enough intensity to silence the surrounding fauna.”

Faustus wetted his lips again. With how much he had talked already, Emil went over to grab the cup of water for him. The noble accepted the hydrating fluid, before he downed most of it in one go.

“Ahh, after today, I believe I will never again consider water as anything less than heavenly. Once again, you have my thanks. But yes, as I was explaining before. They had intended the capture the noble and ransom them off in the same manner as myself. However, it seemed that two of their archers, for one reason or another, shot directly at the carriage. Wherein an arrow found its mark, and killed the noble they had intended to take alive.” Faustus then emptied the remaining contents of the cup, and set it aside.

“ So along with the bodies of their own that had died in the fighting, both of those archers were buried after their leader executed them. Now, I believe a few hours later, the leader summoned three members into his tent. I am fairly sure they spoke around the table next to us, but I cannot be certain of the details. For I could only hear parts of the conversation from where they had me tied,” Faustus admitted.

“ But from what I could overhear and deduce, it seemed that they were given a mission of some sort. One where they gathered most of their ill-gotten goods, and took them along with their only pair of carriages and two pairs of horses. I know not where they were instructed to go, only that it sounded as though they would be gone for quite a long while. Since they took those carriages and horses, however, their encampment would remain effectively stuck in place until their eventual return.”

Emil rubbed his chin as he thought about everything the nobleman had just said. He couldn’t say for sure exactly why they were ordered to take away most of the treasure. But what it meant was that at any point, those three bandits could come back to this camp. All they would know though is that everyone else was killed, and that their prisoner was gone. Or at the very least, they would be able to discover at least that much if he left things as is.

“In any case,” Faustus stared as he stood up, and then stretched his arms out. “Now that my first pleasant meal in these last few weeks has had time to settle, I am truthfully quite exhausted. Perhaps a good rest is even all I shall need to recall the name of that noble family. From sitting on the bed beforehand, I can already surmise that I will have little unease over staying asleep. I do not imagine that one that is non-living like yourself has any need for sleep, but I will still bid you goodnight.”

As the noble then turned away, Emil simply wished him the same. He would Faustus give at least a few minutes to actually fall asleep, but had already begun to plan what he’d do afterward. Without looking back, the Necromancer already knew that the corpse sharing this tent still contained its soul. And while he currently did still intend to let it pass on, that didn’t mean he couldn’t also get a couple of answers out of it first.