Hungry Necromancer - Chapter 242

The presence of Necromancy other than mine is a stark reminder of the fact that I’m not the first Necromancy to walk the earth of this world. And perhaps I won’t be the last.

My mind reels with questions, each one of them unanswerable and yet I ask them all the same. The Shaman grunts and growls at me as I scream my interrogation in its face, it’s useless.

The Shaman is far too primitive to understand the workings of magic this complex. Why do I say so? Well because I can’t understand it either. What sort of magic is applied to contain a soul?

Even with a beautiful example in my hand now, I doubt I’ll be able to recreate it even if I halted all the other things that demand my attention, like the war against the March, against this Kingdom.

But even then there are still more unanswered questions, more pressing ones like how old the thing is. If the [Soul Gem] is older than I then chances are it’s from the time of the previous Necromancer, my mad predecessor.

It would mean that these lands were once ravaged by her hordes, that she was here before even the Spriggan spirit of the Forest settled.

Unfortunately, that isn’t the only possibility. I’d be much calmer if there wasn’t a chance that out there in the world, alive and breathing, is a Necromancer with vaster experience in the art of the undead than I. A senior if you will.

The thought of a senior has me pondering what in hells their ambitions might be. I can’t see them not getting in my way honestly, if they’ve remained hidden this long, undetected by the Synagogue, by the world at large then…well, they must be up to no good.

Not because Necromancers are inherently bad people, I only think so because a steady track record has been established. My predecessor almost swallowed the entire continent and it took a Goddess to calm her down and then there’s me, ambitious but going strong, taking over one village at a time.

It’s also because anyone who dabbles in [Soul Magic] via Necromancy is definitely no saint.

Still, I can’t say I’m not glad about the find. It’s just the thing I’ve been looking for, the Forest has been kind, handing me all I need on a silver platter all while asking for little in return.

With the [Soul Gem] in hand I’ll finally be able to store the souls I steal with [Soul Invasion] the heavy powers the Souls give me won’t be wasted any longer. Before the [Soul Gem] I’d have to let the souls dissipate, drift off with no coherent mass and get lost in the Astral.

But now I have a waiting bank of souls at my fingertips. This is game changing, this means I’ll never be lacking in mana, never be lacking in fire power. This means I have a means to destroy the Beta Warrior sitting and grooming Gammas back at Carbina.

I let myself chuckle as everything begins to fall into place with the single find of a shiny green orb with trails of wisps within it. To think this orb, the size of a basketball would change the timeline of my ambitions.

“What’s so funny?” Jungle asks, irritated at me still.

I have to wonder why because we’re headed right out to do his thing at last, although the sun begins to set and we’re losing light. He could be upset about that, not much progress with his search for the Beast Mother.

“You couldn’t understand, Jungle.” I tell him, glancing up at Anselm who flies back over to us and shakes his head at Jungle.

Jungle growls at the both of us then addresses Anselm, “You’re sure you didn’t see anything? This is the most moist part of the Forest, it has to be here.”

“We can continue our search in the morning, Jungle, we don’t have to get to it today…rather, tonight.” Anselm says, correcting himself as he glances at the bright orange setting sun.

Still Jungle growls, dissatisfied, whereas I can’t keep the grin off my face. I’m sure my happiness frustrates him more than anything else.

Still, for the sake of camaraderie, however brief it may be, I let my grin drop and toss on a sympathetic gaze, “Anselm’s right, Jungle, let’s put a hold on our search for now, we can continue tomorrow morning.”

“You’ve waited a year or so, why not wait one more night?” Anselm adds.

The man tightens his grip around his spear, but his shoulders sag as he huffs, “Fine, we’ll stop for tonight.”

My smile returns and my attention falls back to the [Soul Gem]. “Great, you two set up camp or whatever I’ll be back.”

“Back, where are you going? At least have some zombies help out!” Anselm shouts out, but I’m already lost in the Forest, hopping carefully on the harder spots of mud as I travesse.

Once I come upon a large clearing with strong footing I ready myself for a controlled test of the Gem. “Are you ready, Shaco?”

Shaco slithers out and hisses, “Yesss.”

Through the thin connection I feel with the Gem, I pull, soft and slow at first, like pulling out a splinter and then with a single sharp tug I rip out a soul from the Gem.

The familiar white dashes out and dances around me, less solid than it is when I rip souls out with [Soul Invasion]. The soul continues to dance, flitting about the small clearing a few paces ahead of me.

“Brilliant!” I outstretch my hand to call it to me, so I can begin morphing it the way I wish or stuff it back in the gem.

It answers and I swell with joy as it speeds towards me, only a few metres left and then the ground opens up.

The ground bursts open with a moan, knocking me off my feet and tossing me a fair bit back into the mud, gathering my bearings I look up in time to see the maw bite and swallow the bright white soul and return the way it came.

Gaping I raise my hand in a futile attempt to block the splash of mud and dirt water that splashes over me as it recedes.

“Shaco…”

“Yessss?”

“Go get Anselm and Jungle.”