Hungry Necromancer - Chapter 235

Without looking I can feel Jungle’s eyes boring into my skull, his demand for an explanation hasn’t ceased and it is quite unlikely to.

Anselm stands beside me, not quite sure what to do with himself. Frankly I’m so more concerned with why he was unable to phase through the Mound, the Shambling Mound as Jungle has kindly named it.

If it turns out to be something unique to the monster then I suppose I’m fine with Anselm having the one weakness. Although, if it is unique to the monster there comes up the question ‘What would happen if Anselm never got out?’

What would happen indeed. I don’t believe for a second that a monster promptly defeated by an exploding spear can eat Anselm’s immortal soul, but then another issue comes up in this case.

The monster is without a soul. At least according to what the System tells me. If it swallowed Anselm could there be a chance that it would steal Anselm’s soul? Immortal as it is there must be several ways to contain a soul and control it.

The fact I have the ability to do so from nearly maxing out my proficiency on [Spirit Summon] is telling of this.

These are the thoughts that distract me from the man’s growing impatience. Sighing, I decide to let myself believe for now that the Shambling Mound is the one thing Anselm may be vulnerable to outside literal Deities of course.

One turmoil settled, I turn to address the next, “Jungle, sorry, a bit lost in thought there.”

“I could tell, you’ve been ignoring my calls and your half-man companion here is acting guard.” He grunts, not bothering to disguise his displeasure.

I chuckle, flashing him a bright smile and start, “My half-man here is just another one of my many experiments with magic, I’ve always wondered what is required to revive a soul, even if the form of resurrection is not…perfect.”

Jungle turns to Anselm who stands next to me, recovering from his wounds, “You mean this man is…was a man?”

“I am still a man.” Anselm corrects, his eyes narrowed and lips pouting.

Rolling my eyes at Anselm’s sensitivity I address Jungle again, “Yes, I am searching for a way to perfect the resurrection. It is possible that soon, very soon he will be as flesh and blood as you and I.”

Walking up to Jungle I wrap my hand around his shoulder and pull him close, But for now, I’d appreciate it if you asked less questions about my business and started guiding us to our next prey.”

As troublesome as the Shambling Mound proved to be, I failed to secure the last blow and thus lost out on prime experience points. Points that could have unlocked me a new spell or ritual.

Jungle hums for a moment, he shrugs me off and shakes his head, “Tomorrow then, the night creeps on us and battle in darkness is never favourable.”

“What? We haven’t got anything done since we started!”

“That is in part your fault, isn’t it?”

“Is it? I certainly don’t see it that way, mister tell me everything and I’ll tell you nothing. If this is going to work, Jungle, you’ll need to put out what you’ve agreed to give!”

I didn’t expect the man to be as unreliable as he’s proving himself to be, had I known I would have left him to his insane monster hunt and gone on my own search through the forest.

It’s all beginning to infuriate me. Monsters shouldn’t be so hard to find!

Jungle falls silent for a moment, his head staring at his feet. I’m about to wake him up from his deep thoughts when his neck shoots up and he stares at me, “What you say is true, Lord of Demme. But I stand that we leave the hunt for the morn, aside from the tactical disadvantage I am hurt and need rest.”

And just like that my anger dissipates, but the need to farm some experience remains, “I could heal you if you wish, but you can rest back at the village if you wish to…after you direct us to where we can find prey.”

He startles at this, “You still insist on fighting even with the light against you?”

“I’m a mage.”

I can’t tell because of the mask but I’m certain whatever else he had to say is sent back down his bowels, “Besides, we are the ones taking the risk here, not you, you do not need to participate in any of our battles. In fact, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t, it’s counterproductive.”

He sighs and points to his left, “If you take the path down there you will eventually fall upon the nesting grounds of some arachnids, even further and you will find bears, normal ones and then you will find Werebears. I wouldn’t recommend going any further without my presence.”

A smile graces my lips at last, I nod and begin to set out, “Thank you, Jungle. We will return once we’re satisfied for the night.”

As Anselm and I walk off to the direction he pointed, he calls out once more, “Do be on the lookout, Shambling Mounds will strike as suddenly as the other did. Beware.”

I come to a halt hearing this, my eyes fall on Anselm, he wears a sheepish smile so he must know what I’m thinking

‘Is it a better idea to make camp?’

There’s no one to offer a third opinion. Jungle would say yes and Anselm would go along with whatever he thinks I want to do, as long as it all ends up bringing him back to life that is.

Still, the Shambling Mound was a resilient foe, and the Forest is scarce with the materials I usually work with. Bones, corpses, blood. It has no blood even.

Of course I could just use [Circle Of Death] whenever one shows up, but I’m not sure how well the experience will translate and I also don’t want to run out of uses. For now I have quite a few since I’m in favour with Lotar and I could spare one but it’s honestly quite overkill for the Mound.

“Fine, we make camp.”

Jungle chuckles behind his mask, “Good, it’s a lot difficult setting camp in the Forest without any help, glad you’ve seen reason.”

Groaning I beckon on Anselm as Jungle beckons on me to help set up. Tomorrow better be productive.