Hungry Necromancer

"So, you think you're a hero? Of the gods?" Anselm barely contains himself.

"No, I'm just saying it wouldn't be a surprise if I were, not that I want to be or anything."

As I scramble to defend myself from Anselm's mocking gaze and laugh, I swear off giving the ghost any more ammunition to knock me down with.

"Heroes…no, how do I put this?" his cheeks have been stuck in a wide spread angle showcasing off all his merry pearly whites; annoying.

"Heroes aren't summoners of the undead, heroes don't plan to take over the world or fantasize about their power growing to unbelievable magnitudes that no one would be able to resist their wills. Heroes do good without expecting benefits or rewards or women!" He burst out laughing at the last part.

"Just because I think Mathilda and Leriva are two good looking women does not mean I want them. I can't have them anyway."

His loud guffaw laughter falls into painful giggles as he clutches his sides and tries to speak, "You…haa, you literally said you wanted to be…STUCK BETWEEN BOTH OF THEIR-" and he rises back up into a loud, bursting laughter.

I shake my head at him, too ashamed to say another word as the man proves he has a memory that is not to be underestimated, unless you're asking when he died of course.

Before long Anselm finally calms himself down enough that the thought of me being a hero of the Gods elicits only a light chuckle.

"Well, if I'm not a hero, perhaps someone else is? Or maybe there aren't heroes at all and this world is doomed to the whims of battling Gods, just like before the shattering."

The shattering. From Anselm's history lessons I learned that the world was once upon a time a single land mass, with people and creatures of many likeness milling about within their own Kingdoms or in others as conquerors in war.

But because of some other war, a war beyond anyone's comprehension, not even the Diviners, the world was torn apart, shattered by the battling Gods and so we live, walking though the battlefield and trying to live a life.

And yet, another war still looms, or perhaps the first never ended in the first place.

Anselm nods, "I think it's better you believe the world is doomed to the whims of battling Gods as you say. It is far better than pining on the chance that there will be a redeemer of sorts. If there is then you'd simply be pleasantly surprised but aptly prepared at the same time no?"

"You think about a lot." I point out, shaking my head at him, "Fine then, what do you think about leaving? We still have the option but simply considering it prompted Lotar to summon me and remind me of the deal I made with him."

I sigh, gnawing on the remains of my bony meal, "And he also mentioned that I'd get a boon if I kill a fourth Cultist."

"Well, that doesn't mean it has to be this Cultist does it?"

Actually…

"I don't think so. Huh." I realize Lotar made no specifications to which Cultist General I should kill for the second boon, he just asked me to kill and keep killing. "But I know where you're going with this, and I'm really sceptical about it."

He snorts, folding his arms and crossing his legs as he floats, looking a bit awkward in his armour, "Okay, where am I going with this?"

"You think if we attack a different Cultist, far away from Carbina they won't have the several upgrades they have to combat my abilities."

He smiles, looking pleasantly surprised, "Well yes, that is where I was going." At his admission I pump my fist. Sometimes talking the undoubtably century old ghost had me feeling like a student of strategy and I was failing much of the time.

"So? What are your doubts?" he persists.

"Right, well, we don't know if they share their hive mind abilities without considering range. Carbina is large, larger than any place we've been to yet and it houses the highest population count too. And yet the Cultists have no trouble relaying information about me."

I take a deep breath and continue, "Worse is, we don't even know when they are sharing this information, we might as well assume it's a constant stream. There is also the chance that their Generals all around the world have been modified to crush me and are simply waiting for me to step wrong."

Anselm nods, digesting all I've spouted out my mouth in a frenzy while I wet my lips with some water and a bit of grape.

After a bit he shakes his head as he floats back down to the floor with me. "No, I don't think you have that much to worry about."

"Sure, the Cultists may not be hindered by range and may as well be sharing all the information they encounter with each other constantly, but there's something I've noticed from our encounters with them, as well as what the Bull General said himself."

"What's that?" I ask, terribly impatient. I need to know I have a plan.

"Well, the Cultists are engineered for fighting whoever the best Mage is in their proximity. Leriva said she got away with killing one of the Generals, that encounter is what made her learn that distracting the Generals makes the minions lose their magic, but the encounter also gave the Cultist knowledge of how she fights, that's why trying to burst through their ranks was nigh impossible for her afterwards, they adapted, to her."

"Uhh, yes, that's the problem. They are adapting to me and my skills. They know my moves; they've rendered them useless."

Again, he shakes his head, "They know your moves and adapt to them, but only to them. If you introduce another Mage into the battle then the Generals are awfully easy to beat."

He chuckles, "The Cultists at Arak village absorbed the entire village, the minions were plentiful and in great number, but that didn't matter to the Following because they could easily fight the minions off and cut down the General, even if one of them was adapted to."

"But with you? The minions diminished in number after you unleashed your undead at the first one. The second General cut down and adapted to you, the threat that killed her predecessor, but you used what little minions she had to blow her to pieces and render her speed naught."

"But the Bull General, he completely abandoned his minions, he buried them under, right along with your undead and didn't worry about the corpse exploding because his body could take it, it had been adapted to your skills. And after two Generals being killed by you it's obvious, you'd be the one to come knocking. There wasn't any need to prepare for someone else."

As I stare at him wide eyed, he laughs, clapping his hands as he begins to unravel the mystery for me, "And this is what takes the cake. If you want to ignore all the signs that the Generals can only adapt to a single person at a time, just take the Bull Generals words for it."

He grins as he quotes, "'You may have slain my foolish colleagues and forced me to take this form to combat you, but now you lay at my feet'"

With the final word uttered it all comes crashing down on me. The truth, it's been there all along, staring me in the face as I blind myself with worry of my proficiency and my next spell.

"The stronger I get the more they adapt to me." Anselm nods, "But if I get too strong, stronger than this at least, at some point they won't be able to adapt to all my spells, all my strategies, they won't be able to account for it all because for some reason it's an inconvenience, perhaps even a strain on their being."

"Yes!" Anselm yells excitedly as I complete the jigsaw for myself. His smile is wide and contagious. I laugh.

"But the problem still remains, if there are more than one Cultist Generals in the area, they will adapt to me, and if they can leave whatever it is, they are planning on doing then they can give chase, they can cut me off and end the threat I present."

"Will present," Anselm corrects, "We're not all the way there yet, but at least we know we can grow stronger than they can hold. But let's leave all of that pessimism at the back for now. The Generals here have yet to make any moves on Carbina proper, the Bull General mentioned he needed you dead for their sacrifice to work."

I groan as he reminds me. Combatting a power based and strategic oriented dilemma is one thing but throw in morality into the mix and it becomes something else entirely.

"Do you want to leave the people of Carbina here? They know about the sacrifice, the pentagram, they know about it all but they are helpless to it. Leriva is still unconscious and even if she were to wake, the Generals are currently adapted to you. As you are now you surely surpass Leriva. Throw her at that Bull General and it's over."

He doesn't have to say it but I can feel it hanging off his last words. 'Will you save them?'

"What choice do I have?" I sigh, resigning myself to this fate.

In the corner of my eye, I catch his lips twitch in a smile. And he says I'm no Hero.