Hungry Necromancer - Chapter 229

My journey to Demme’s forests from the frigid plains of Frozia took shorter than I would have expected had things not been falling just into the right places for me of recent.

After hearing of our newest need for buyers from the South as well as all the consideration I put in in regards to Ioina and its people, I travelled to Demme to train within the monster infested forest that surrounds it.

I didn’t travel alone however. While it’s generally a pleasant idea to have Alric, the Mayor of Demme, lying around ready to be called upon the moment someone needs something enchanted, it doesn’t sit well for Demme to be left unguarded.

So just a few hours before Anselm teleported us away I had Kaylin arrange for his transport as well.

The journey to Demme may have been prompted by the need to level up but there are other things I need to do as well, namely asking the Spriggan, the forest spirit to up food production and fertile land around the village.

It’ll of course be seen as a good boon of my mere presence and the people will be more inclined to pray to me, the God of Undead and Unrighteous souls.

I’ve got to say, that title has been catching on well so far. In the brief time I spent in Aste before charioting off to Demme I heard the title being screamed out at people on the street. Although it’s merely being used as yet another convenient way to wish a person bad luck or simple flip them off, I’m proud of the Diviner’s work as my messenger to the world.

Of course, I haven’t yet been transformed into a God from the faith being thrown about, but the idea I had in the beginning is taking root, at least, in Aste it is.

While I’m pleased by the many fortunate occurrences around me, I am also painfully aware of the disappointments and many, many unfinished works left over.

With the Diviner and my psuedo religion brewing I wonder about how I’d spread it out to other cities and villages, after all, the Diviner can’t do it all himself. On that note I ordered Kaylin just before we left to accommodate the man within reason. If he asks for some financial help then so be it.

But much of my worries lie, as always, with Frozia and her increasing power. While my Psuedo religion is of no match to combat and face up with her well established presence, there must be something I can do to put a leash over the necks of her Cryomancers, her Priest and her Disciples.

Frozia’s influence over the city is justifiably significant, significant enough that I almost had to debate the marching order I gave to the soldiers of Frozia because of something the Priest thought to bring up. Almost.

I wouldn’t begin to give in to whatever reason the Priest is trying to communicate from her oppressive Goddess. I realize the hypocrisy of this resolve but still, I like my oppression way better than any other, plus, I’m nicer.

Frozia and her Priest seem to intend on being a thorn in my side in Frozia, but I’m not about to be ousted off the throne I’m building myself for some Goddess I hate to sit on it. This annoyance and hatred is just another one of the things that push me to train hard in these forests.

With the Mayor of Dover positively on our side all I have left to sort out is one more worry, that being the last village we manage to get our grips on.

Yelenia was a lot less diplomatic with her approach, in fact, I hear the men that followed her lead seem a lot more prepared for combat.

Fortunately, the Elven woman did not end up picking a fight with the Mayor, I suppose after the proper trashing Maylin delivered onto her she’s regained some sense.

But rather, she found that the village wasn’t led by a single Mayor at all, but rather a council of low ranking Mages, the highest being a D-rank Mage.

I didn’t think such was possible quite honestly. But reaching out into the world I’ve begun to see and hear several stories of how these people got into power. The Mayor of Dover got into power via duel, the same way I would have done to Ioina village had I been a citizen of the Kingdom and not some cave stranger.

The Marquess saw some favour in her but mostly enjoyed the fact that she was a woman like her and a Mage at that.

The Mayor council of the second village, named Autue, are causing me some headaches because of their vibrant indecision. There are five of these Council Mayors and they all voted on the proposal to join me.

It came out as two against two. And the single tie breaker, the D-rank is delaying on casting a vote. Yelenia is also impatient, arguing that she should just cull two of the no’s and be done with it.

With their low Mage rank and Yelenia’s back up, I’m sure she would be able to achieve it. But that would be counter productive, so she’s been ordered to back down and wait. Although during this wait period we got the first peek at the Marquess’ people.

They were journeying down, armed and prepared around a dozen of them or so I was told. The suspicious amount of armed men and women, especially elves loitering around one of their so called stops ticked them off.

Unfortunately for them, Yelenia was given full permission to unleash hell upon anyone that wasn’t with us or invited to the party.

We incurred some casualties, as we would fighting against Mages, trained Mages. But the Mayors of Autue intervened, although they now regret this as they’ve been automatically lumped together with us, a rebellious force of the Kingdom, of the March.

And there lies my worry. The weak are so often cowardly, and for good reason too. The Mayors of Autue may just as well stab us in the back to get in on the Marquess side should they deem it necessary and wise.

Frankly I wouldn’t blame them, but I’ve got a lot riding on their ability to give me soldiers for the blatantly obvious upcoming fight with the Marquess and her people. Already I’ve deployed every single one of Frozia’s fighting men out to create a frontline with Yelenia at the head of it.

It’s full-on war prep. With supply lines from Frozia, Aste and Spol leading out to either Dover or directly to Autue. Once the fighting starts Demme will get a nutrient boon and be full of bounty, courtesy of the Spriggan.

All that remains now is for me to buff up my stats, proficiency and spell list. There are several rituals I’m waiting on, rituals that’ll possible help turn everything around and make my victory all but assured.

And that’s why I’m here, in the thick, dark forests with trees as tall as buildings hovering over my head. I’ve only spent a few hours here and I’ve barely begun to travel in that deep into the foliage.

So far all I’ve come across in the damp forest are insect sized insects, a few birds chirping and singing as they feed their young, but not much else.

And yet the hair on skin stands on ends, there’s something, several somethings in this forest that give off an air of danger and power so strong that I feel it even without them being anywhere close.

The Spriggan, the Spirit of the forest is no doubt one of them but I have nothing to fear of her, she questioned me the moment I step foot on the boundaries of her forest and demanded to know what else I’d come for.

I told her and she reluctantly let me train, although to her it is but hunting. She did lay down a few rules though, a major one being the restriction on any foul rituals I have in my repetoire, should I begin casting it she promises to split me open on the spot.

Frightening, but of course I agreed. Not much choice to where I can train, well, I could always try and suicide it and challenge Maylin, where ever she is.

But now, as I stroll through the woods for hours now, I’ve come across nothing to fight, nothing trying to kill me, not even a snake.

“Could be because it’s still sun up.” Anselm suggests.

I shrug and look around once more, “Could be. Or could be the monsters don’t want to fight me just yet. Where are all the Werebears? I thought they were literally on the edge of the Forest every night before we first came to Demme.”

Anselm doesn’t give me a response, just silently floating and staring intently at a tree, after a few seconds he finally speaks, “Do you…do you see that? Those eyes?”

I turn and look in the direction he’s staring but see nothing, “What are you talking about? Eyes?”

“You don’t see them? Right over there. So deep I can’t take my eyes off as it watches me, I’m afraid it’ll bite.”

I walk forward a bit but his words distract me, “Bite?” I ask, losing my ways I plunging my feet into a puddle of water, “Where…where’s the water coming from?”

Anselm doesn’t give me an answer, but looking in the puddle I find that it isn’t simply that. This forest might also be a swamp.

And as I arrive at this realization a shadow is cast over the light breaking through the canopy of the trees, a large shadow.

I don’t have to hear the terrible hiss to realize just what it is as I get a good view of it in the reflection of the water.

“Ah fuck.”