Hungry Necromancer

Before we head off for Aste with a large carriage fitted with a soft new mattress, a luxurious carpet- a piece of it at least- and the pillows, as well as duvet, a four days' worth of packed food; mostly fried meats, and my pouch of gold even heavier than before, I thought it wise to have Anselm scout the remaining camps as well as the scene of the ones we cleared.

Anselm is proud of such a cautious initiative of course but at the same time feels apprehensive about the undertaking, he says he still feels that staff piercing through him.

I can understand this much, but alas, the threat of the Bull General remains real and present with every passing moment. And it's even more frightening given the discoveries we make with the little cursory glance over the camps.

Turns out the last two camps have coalesced into one. And with the reports coming from the roads and routes they're close to all saying more and more people have been going missing. Especially frightening is the fact that these reports mark the last sightings of the missing persons to be close to Carbina.

Whatever it is that was stopping the Cultists from moving into Carbina seems to become irrelevant as they seek to fill up their ranks and spread out into their five points.

With the Cultists encroaching I'm a bit more nervous about leaving the Village now. It'll take me six days to get back if I'm very lucky and manage to convince whoever to come back with me to Carbina, the village outcast from the Synagogue whilst being unregistered with the Synagogue as well.

The odds of getting back in six days are slim, very slim, but not slimmer than my chances of survival if I go pick a fight with another Cultist General as I am. Which is why I have to leave.

"Careful on the road to Aste, Lord Ash." One of the hands prepping my carriage for travels warns.

"Why is that?"

He shrugs, "Well the roads have been known to harbour bandits, I know most routes to cities do but these bandits, I hear some of them are monsters."

Well, that's interesting, "Monsters you say. What kind? The man or the beast."

Here he chuckles, "Both."

It looks like the roads may hold some combat in store for me. I need to raise my proficiency; the bone and blood series remain locked for me, as well as many other interesting spells, or should I call them rituals now?

It doesn't take long for the prep to be completed and Anselm hops into the driver's seat, ready to whip the horses for the long journey.

A tailoress I've never had the privilege of meeting came at the last second to gift me with a bundle of clothing; a new black cloak and somehow an exact black copy of the current purple outfit I've been wearing since I got it from Garland.

I worry that the clothes may not fit me seeing as I never came in for measuring but the well-aged woman simply waves my concerns off, certain that they will fit me to the tee, which is somehow even more worrying.

Anselm, unlike me, seems to have stolen time to bond with the people of Carbina and is several times more popular than I am in comparison; he is hounded by many of the carpenters that I ordered to build the post on the open routes, a crowd of what looks like the kitchen servants if the pantry dishes they toss aside to run over to Anselm is any indication and most noticeably is gifted some Whetstone by the blacksmith himself; a tall and deceivingly muscled man fitted with brown sturdy gloves and covered in soot.

Mathilda doesn't come out of the Hall to see me off, lest she truly say goodbye, but the workers and their foremen wave me all the way out the gates and some, even past the farmlands before heading back inside.

For now, it's goodbye Carbina, hopefully I'll return to it still intact.

Aste stood North-West of Carbina, the route to it is thankfully the first route we freed of the Cultists so I don't expect any attacks. And seeing as how the little guard post I ordered to be built still housed live men, I suppose there haven't been any more attacks since that last time with the Speed General.

"From what we scouted, there will be attacks coming in soon." Anselm says, as though reading my thoughts.

I ignore his pessimism in favour of sweet slumber. The carriage is long and wide enough that I get to spread my legs quite a bit, and the sun has warmed up the furs that serve as blankets just the right temperature that my immediate thought is of sleep, short as it may be with a ghost at the reins.

***

The journey is like I expect. Anselm nudges me out of my sleep every so often to either take over the reins or refuel him with mana. I don't get much time with the reins really; he truly enjoys driving the carriage and I'm grateful because I have no idea how to drive it properly.

I'd have to learn eventually, but it's unlikely my learning experience will take place on this trip.

Sooner rather than later I have my dinner, a large dinner too; thanks to sleeping through lunch, I get to have a bigger piece. Unlike back in Carbina, Anselm can't afford to waste food since he doesn't need to eat.

Though, the abstinence makes me wonder where exactly the food he consumes goes. He never needs to excrete; he doesn't sweat but he does tire. It all feels very confusing when I take a closer look at it.

With a routine for travel in place and night fast approaching, Anselm announcing that it's about time we look for a place off the road to camp as the road will be darkened and the horse is exhausted.

"Don't horses have night vision?" I ask.

"Night vision?"

Right. Not much science here.

"Like cats and dogs and wolves even." I clarify.

He hums, unsure of an answer or simply unsure of what I'm talking about. "What does that have to do with anything? I don't think they do."

"Well, I thought we would make faster time if we travelled at night as well."

This time he turns and delivers his usual deadpan look, "I know you're fully rested and your stomach is full, but the horse needs to graze and it needs to rest as well."

"Does it though?"

I chuckle as his eyes become saucers as he realizes and catches on to my Necromantic meaning.

"Yes! Ugh, why? What's the point!" he yells, getting a little hysterical and waving his hands about.

"Well, I'd gain proficiency and we'll make good time. You remember what we have to do don't you? Leriva is counting on us."

"But the horse…"

"Is expendable."

He folds his arms and all but pouts, "They still can't see at night."

Hmm. I ponder on this as I hop out the back of the carriage and head over to the horse. "It'll be undead, it will follow my will, trust me."

"Trust you? You're suggesting we kill our ride to make better time, what if we come across other travellers? I think a dead horse stands out quite a bit, Asher."

I can only groan as I unsheathe my dagger and slit the poor things throat in one clean motion.

"We're not here for other travellers, Anselm. There's an entire village counting on us returning with help, if you'd rather we just forget about Carbina and head on to the Centre of the March like we planned then please, tell me."

Anselm stares down at me from the top of the carriage where he steers and manages the horse. The now dying horse anyway. The only sound between us being the gurgling of the stead.

"Not like you've given me much of a choice in the matter, Lord Ash." He responds rather snidely.

"Animate Animal." I command with a palm placed on the now dead as nails horse, infusing my mana into its dead corpse and causing it to rise once more.

Still, the horse bleeds from where I cut it as it rises to its feet under my masterful puppeteering.

As I climb back onto the back of the carriage where my comfort lies Anselm scoffs, "Such progress."

I can only roll my eyes, an action I find myself more and more accustom to with Anselm around, "Now it doesn't need to see, with my simple directive," I wave a hand and puppeteer it forward, it begins to trot along with minimal effort on my path, "It moves, endlessly, until its hooves become its knees it will move so long as I command it."

Snorting he says, "You do know that it will still need your mana to move right, that's a constant drain isn't it?"

"Perhaps when I was just level five, but I'm a whole level eleven now, my max mana is so much higher than before." I tut at him as I rest my eyes after undergoing such a strenuous activity.

"You and these levels," he groans, "I'll never understand them. Mages."

He continues on whipping the horse forward despite it not responding to his beatings anymore. Quite a long time ago I gave up on trying to explain the blue screen I see, the system I work with to grow ever stronger.

It might be a Mage thing, or perhaps only for people who have the affinity for magic, people like Leriva and Mathilda. But then why would it be set up in such a modern mana? The moment I laid my eyes on it it was so familiar. It and I are the most technologically advanced things in this medieval world of magic.

As such, it could only be that the system is limited to me and perhaps anyone else to suffer the same life transfer I have.

Because of this reasoning, I don't think it necessary to hide how I gain my power, especially not from Anselm, my long time annoying as heck companion.