Hungry Necromancer

With four happy ghouls behind me as well as a nervous looking Hastra, I journey all the way into the deep recesses of the Elven North.

It's obvious something or someone important is up ahead because the security only seems to increase in quantity and number. The number of men abusing the elves also reduces along the way in quite the paradox.

Still, very few last against the ghouls and I as I stroll through, it's almost exhausting. For the most part I have to fight my deep instinct to turn every fallen idiot into an undead immediately.

Having more ghouls attached to my mana, feeding off what I give them and dying off without sustenance is not what I need. The bodies are fresh and I've gone out of my way to ensure that the injuries leading to their deaths aren't too grave.

After all, there is a spell I've been eying all this time, a spell that would give me the first line of my army. Unfortunately, the System has deemed I'm far too inexperienced to get my grimy little paws on such a spell just yet.

But I'm happy to wait, to wait and prepare for when I do have enough experience. Although, it does hurt that I'm gaining next to nothing experience wise killing these men.

But there's always a Brightside to Necromancy, their bodies piling up behind me can be preserved and stored for a later date, for when I'm ready to give that spell a chance.

I sigh hopelessly, a ghoul beside me shredding part of a man's face. I hope the Gamma I left behind at Frozia will grant me enough experience, though, as it is, I'm already far too powerful for a single Gamma now.

It hurts slightly that I had to leave that Forest in Demme. I shake my head, trying not to think about it too much. There'll be other chances, for now I just need to organize Aste.

The power structure I left behind was far too weak to last, I realize that now. I suppose these Nobles, these peasants seeking some glory and a quick fortune of tokus if they can overthrow the current ruler see the power I vested in Kaylin as trivial.

To an extent much of this is my fault. I've barely spent any time in Aste, the people don't know me, they don't fear me and as such they hold no respect for my authority.

In a way this little rebellion is fortuitous, it's a free opportunity to show just how much power I can flex out on my own, just how easy I would find it to suppress them should they scream too much.

For that, I'd say I'm grateful.

I feel us coming up on the end of the road ahead. Nothing much else aside from the base of the Five, the previous rulers of the Elven North.

But there is someone occupying their space in their stead. It's quite sickening too.

Of all the parts of the North we've passed through this has the most security, the men I see ahead, moving into their positions as I approach are not simply fodder like the several we came along the way.

They're fitted in fine armour and armed with strong weapons. It's clear to me that many of them are indeed Hunters.

Behind them is a man sitting on an erected throne atop a platform, a platform which has many elves tied up, chained and even nailed to it.

The man has a woman between his legs and a fat hand on her head, he barks out loudly at the men below him, his hired protection, "What are you buffoons waiting for? Hasn't he been slowed down enough? Kill him!"

Slowed down? Is that why the trail of dead men and women behind me seemed so endless. I chuckle but watch closely as several of the Hunters move into position.

I should be careful, if they're anything like Red and Quen then they've got some nasty enchanted surprises to their weapons. 

Still, with Hastra I approach the man and on getting closer I recognize one of the elves tied up. He's the one that attacked me that time I went into his shop, Kaylin's old boyfriend or something like that.

His head is coated in blood and his nose is so crooked I wonder what sort of beating delivered it that way. I turn my focus to the man seated on the makeshift throne with a woman between his legs.

I sigh, "Isn't this a little bit cliché?" I call out, waving out to everything. The Hunters don't lose focus on me, each of them turning and shifting to my every move. I wonder why they don't just attack already.

Ah right, the ghouls.

"You've gone quite the length to soak up power don't you think? Sitting on a throne outside with your enemies chained up behind you?" I chuckle. "Quite the villainous look." I'd applaud him if I weren't intent on killing him.

He growls, pushing the woman aside and standing with all of himself exposed to the air, "And I suppose you must be that elven bitch's last attempt at claiming authority over MY city." He spits.

I don't have all of the context but I assume he's referring to Kaylin.

"I should have her on her knees instead of," He glowers at the woman crumbled at his feet, "whatever this is." 

His eyes glaze over me once more and he waves a tired grunt escaping him as he falls back into his throne again, "Enough, kill him already!" 

Barking the final order the Hunters who have been positioning themselves all this time launch into an all out attack. 

My Ghouls are much faster however, all four burst out and cover my fronts as I prepare my mass of mana for a coordinated attack.

Outnumbered, the Ghouls meet fierce resistance and some are even pushed back by ridiculous blasts of flames and even jets of water from the enchanted weapons.

But I've been moulding this mana since I saw the pathetic man on the shitiest throne I've ever set my eyes on.

My body suddenly bursts with dozens of green tendrils with hands at their ends. All of it reaching out for the Hunters, ironically hunting them.

My burst of tendrils comes as a surprise to many of the Hunters, but some are seasoned enough to adapt, in the end I successfully grab on to three and immediately initiate draining them of all their life force.

The others gather up, gaining back their composure and to their credit, not flinching at the sight of their comrades be reduced to skeletons.

Instead, they cooperatively launch an attack directly on me, teaming up to distract the ghouls with their bodies and attacks they make an opening for two of their mates to slip in after me.

The two that make it in wield swords, the perfect weapon for me to parry.

I unsheathe my dagger and Hastra wisely crouches, huddling up against herself as the Hunters make their assault.

One come through with an upwards swipe at me, I parry, but then the blade of his sword sparks and I understand.

BOOM!

The explosion, while not immediately lethal, launches me back, and rattles me enough that I'm left vulnerable to the follow up of the other Hunter; a murderous stab.

His sword would have perforated my skull had I not moved out of the way in time. Annoyed I grunt and mould my mana into a spell I'm slowly building familiarity with.

Upon activation my blood jumps out of my open head injury from the explosion from before and stabs my current assailant straight through the eyes, all while he's in the middle of going for another stab.

There's not time for a break however as I hear, Hastra scream, without even waiting to see what's gone wrong I use my blood to pull out the blood of the man straddling me now. 

His flesh turns white as within an instant all his blood is drawn out of his body and set in the air as a weapon. Pushing away the husk of a body I morph my newly acquired pool of human blood that hangs over head. 

Free of the man's weight I find what's got Hastra screaming. The so-called King himself has come down to hold her.

His hand wraps around her neck and he has a fruit knife held up against her neck.

"Stop moving!" He screams, waving the knife at me this time, "Stop moving and let my men kill you or else! She get's a taste of the Baron!"

I frown at this, the Baron? What's that? His knife?

I scan my opponents, true enough, I'm still outnumbered and my Ghouls have been dispatched. Still, I believe I have a chance, especially with my readied blanket of blood overhead.

A thing they're all eying nervously.

I chuckle at the man and shake my head. Rather than answer to his demand I raise a single hand and I see it clear as day on his face.

Horror. Terror. A realization that he isn't anything to me.

Revelling in that look, I snap my fingers, "Blood Series; Blood Shower."