Isekai’d Shoggoth - Chapter 127. A Bloody Break

Welp. Turns out, sir Malachi is out on a job. Weird, that. I was kind of used to the idea he is the administrator and trainer. Apparently, when the going gets tough, he comes out personally to lend a hand. I was about to just leave him a note, but the page taking the messages for him did mention that he’s investigating a ghoul infestation not too far from the city. Which is interesting, because I have no idea what ghouls in this world really are. The usual undead is a case of accidental golemcraft, but I’ve never heard of ghouls cropping up in that context. In fact, I have preciously little data about ghouls at all. Which is weird, because they are something well known to the Inquisition… Yet, apparently, inquisition does not really know how the fuck do they actually happen. Moreover, ghouls only appear in the records for the last two hundred years or so. Doublechecking with Juliette (who is remarkably unflappable about me just popping in to ask questions) confirms that ghouls are a fairly recent thing. Curiouser and curiouser.

Back in the estate, things are sedate. Bridgit had regained her equilibrium and is currently doing something with her fellow maids that I’m not privy to, Roxolane is packing her presents, Lily-Anne is recovering and Moon Unit is overseeing the recovery… Oh, and Cy is running around with Jean-Paul and Antoine. So I just park my instance back in my room and have it “nap in the chair”, while I investigate the ongoing ghoul problem. I’m curious, and if I help out, Malachi will have some time to answer my questions. Oh, and I might ask if he left specific instructions regarding me, or his subordinates are just being a bit too loose with information. I shouldn’t have been able to just ask for his location like this. I think? Maybe? I’m… actually not sure what exactly my status in the palace’s hierarchy is, given my marriage to Lily-Anne. If that is enough to consider me “also royal” or…? Questions upon questions.

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Holy shit why. This is industrial grades of nope right there. Ghouls. Turns out, they’re a case of a mind-controlling parasite. The results are… well… bad. Thankfully, while the parasite in question is at least partially fungus, it also requires a fairly sizeable initial chunk in order to successfully infect, so spores are not a problem. The fact that ghouls would actively capture and force the parasite embryo into the new hosts IS a problem, however. Thankfully, the host has to be mammalian and exceed at least thirty kilos for the infection to proceed to the stage of active parasitism. Smaller animals just die and the whole mess becomes a fairly distinct mushroom. Furthermore, the bigger animals require a bigger helping of embryos… Actually, no, calling it embryo is kind of misleading. Egg clutch, I guess? Well, while a group of ghouls can possibly wrestle down something like a deer and force parasite into it, there exists only a short window of opportunity where it has to be recaptured by a different group of ghouls in order for infection to take. Otherwise, large mammals just experience a bout of sickness not unlike toxoplasmosis, but usually survive. Thank gods for small mercies, I suppose.

Oh, but it gets better. The whole thing? A product of a magical experiment. Supposedly. If what I can glean on the issue is right, the person in question was another transmigrant. Thankfully, I don’t have to do anything about the fellow, because the Inquisition burned him within his hideout when they set about to exterminate the infestation with fire. Because dude apparently was working on a more advanced version that would give him control, instead of creating fungal zombies. And produced ghoulified moose and bears.

So. I have been multitasking. Some of me have just crawled all over the library and restricted Inquisition archives for data on ghouls. Some of me had cased the area in question, having gotten some of the mass there quickly via goose methods. And some of me is currently searching for sir Malachi. I have tentatively quarantined the area, set up a cordon of me disguised as small critters and containing the ghoulified fauna within this section of the forest by judicious application of pit traps and fire. Now to find him… Oh, here they are. Huh, I was thinking this is serious if he’s out in the field, but turns out he is conducting what seems to be a field lesson for a bunch of people. Inquisition cadets, I would imagine. Huh, Malachi has many hats to wear in this kingdom. I wonder if he is really the primary instructor, or if this is some kind of exam he is taking rare time off to oversee personally… Hrm.

“…you heard that, right?” – one of the students whispers to another. He seems vaguely familiar. But I just can’t put a name to this face yet. Not when he’s covering up his mouth for some reason… Oh, sniggering as he chortles – “Man, what an old geezer like him needs with a lady, anyway?”

Like… ruuuuude. Sir Malachi is a refined gentleman with ample experience and a sharp mind. If I were interested in men, I’d rate him pretty highly, because he’s clearly not letting his age affect his physique. Let’s see YOU being that spry when you’re not a chicken anymore, dude.

Apparently, his comrade agrees, if the smack delivered to the back of the head was of any indication. “Shut up, Leeroy!” – he snarls – “You already got all of us into trouble, don’t add to it by offending sir Malachi! Whatever his affair with the lady is, it’s not ours to belabor!”

“…Man, lighten up! What’s your problem? I mean, can you even imagine him with any woman whatsoever!?” – Leeroy continues to gleefully dig himself deeper – “Like, what would he even be doing with one? Tell her stories about good old EEEP!”

The last word was yelped in a markedly different tone. I presume it is due to sir Malachi sneaking up on him and lifting him by the scruff.

“What I might or might not be doing with a lady is really none of your concern, squire Jenkins.” – Malachi rasps into his ear menacingly – “And if I catch you unawares like that one more time, it’s going to be page Jenkins until summer. Next summer.”

He drops the moron unceremoniously… Oh, hey, now I remember! This guy tried to stab me back when dean Ambercrombe called in sir Zade on me. Fun times. He’s STILL being reeducated? Goodness. Then again, his name is Leeroy Jenkins. Biiiiig hint right here. Oh, huh, Malachi is talking again. Seriously.

“That being said, the lady in question right now happens to be lady Gillespie.” – he smirks – “Someone you had personal experience with, squire Jenkins. Care to tell your fellows just how far did you get with the lady in question, hm?”

Leeroy pinks up. Huh, what’s up with that? Don’t tell me he’s got a crush on me or something. “Sire, that’s rather unfair of you, I have to say.” – he huffs – “I simply was not ready at the time, that’s all there was to it.”

That… apparently was the wrong thing to say, as Malachi halts mid-step, then plants his feet down hard and turns to the hapless squire with a furious expression.

“What was THAT, page Jenkins?” – he thunders – “You were brought in as a part of a party to subdue an imposter hazard, you had a blade in your hand, you attempted to attack first… and you were still NOT READY AT THE TIME, as you so curiously put it? Do tell, what was there left for you to do to achieve this nigh-mythological state of readiness you are blathering about, then?”

“Beg your pardon, sire, I was intending to say I was ready for the wrong thing.” – Jenkins backpedals hastily – “I was expecting to battle against a talbot with the help of my comrades, but what ended up happening was that I faced off against war witch alone.”

Malachi sighs. “While I have no doubt lady Gillespie could meet and exceed the standards set for warmage, to the best of my knowledge she never expressed any interest in taking the examination or joining the standing army.” – he huffs – “So don’t you go calling her a war witch. That being said, I do readily agree she could wipe the floor with you on any day, regardless of how prepared you think yourself to be at the moment.”

He pauses, clears his throat, then casts a menacing glance across his coterie – “That goes for ALL of you, youngsters. While some of you show potential to be good inquisitors, do NOT let it go to your head. None of you could possibly fight her off, if she wanted to brawl. I have personally seen her using fivefold haste in combat, and I have no reason to believe she can not go higher if she wants to. And all of that strictly through facsimiles. Alyssa Gillespie is quite well known for her aversion to using live flowers, as a matter of fact.”

“But how is that even possible, sir?” – one of the other cadets asks respectfully – “It is common knowledge that the human body can not withstand that much. The best ever witnessed is threefold haste achieved by viscounts Lemarchand…”

“In short? Facsimiles.” – Malachi explains patiently – “By rejecting the power of singular focus, lady Gillespie instead gains the option to use many assorted facsimiles all casting their own little spells. It goes without saying that she is capable of incredible mana throughput to cast through facsimiles with the same power as one would expect out of a live flower… But that aside, some of my fellows have had attempted to recreate her effort with facsimiles and achieved success. You lot will not be trained for this until your magic matures a little more, though, we expect our applicants to be of age. Still… With four matched facsimiles and some effort, one can cast three times haste and once body reinforcement at the same time. It has been verified to be achievable by several of our inquisitors, meaning they can match the speed of viscount Lemarchand for a time.”

“Sir Malachi, what are the requirements to be considered for such a training?” – asks the lone woman in their midst. Curious.

“You must be of age and attain the sash.” – Malachi answers without hesitation – “How successful you will be with it is entirely on you, mind. Some people just can not wrap their minds around the simultaneous casting.”

Of age in this context means “arms-bearing age” and means eighteen. Attaining the sash simply means one has to be an Inquisitor in good standing. Sash is the graduation token and it is given when cadet successfully passes the practical examinations. Which is what they are doing today, I surmise. Except for Jenkins, he was just held back two years. Or even three, if Malachi expects him to become squire again before applying for the examination. Malachi must be really pissed off with him to do that, it’s pretty much one step short of saying outright Malachi does not believe him to be Inquisition material.

“It helps if you practice doing several cantrips at once first.” – I add absentmindedly, inflating my search goose to a full-sized human figure… And facepalm back at the estate when hindsight kicks in with a remark that maybe it was not the best idea to behave blatantly inhumanely in front of Inquisition. Students… react. A couple of them shriek, yelp, backpedal or just fall over. Jenkins, impressively enough, manages to do all four in quick sequence. Malachi simply glances at me… Though I can tell he had a pretty hefty fireball on the tip of his fingers to go, if necessary. Somewhat more impressively, about half of his students also have some sort of fire or light-based spell ready to go… or going. Thankfully, the ones who have too twitchy trigger fingers all went with the Ray of Purity, which does bupkis to me for obvious reasons.

“…Lady Gillespie.” – Malachi drawls – “Did something urgent happen?”

I shrug. “Not really? I just happened to want an advice from you, and your page said you’re hunting ghouls… And then I realized I have no idea what ghouls actually are, so I came over to catch some and find out what’s that all about.” – I explain to him – “Speaking of which, there’s a whole bunch of them nearby. Look oddly matched, too.”

“…Matched?” – he echoes.

“You know. All men, all of them roughly of the same age prior to infection… I would hazard a guess all of them were between eighteen and twenty-five. Seems to me like that was intentional, while we are at it.” – I explain further – “Someone tried to make an army of ghouls, I guess? Or at least a platoon.”

Oh. Wow. Malachi really does not like the news. “FILS DE SALOPE!” – he thunders suddenly, smacking his fist against his hip – “…Pardon me, ladies, but that gods-bedamned blackguard! An outbreak, my ass! He was breaking king’s orders all along!”

I quirk my brow at him. He is visibly fuming. “Sooo… do you want directions to the ghouls, or you’d rather assess the investigative abilities of your students by letting them find out themselves?” – I ask.

He snorts. “Point the way, please.” – he then requests shortly – “Everyone, form up on me! Swords out, fire magic ready! Do not break the formation, do not run off to finish stragglers, do not leave your mates unguarded while you chase an extra kill. This means you especially, page Jenkins! Lady Gillespie, I would not presume to order you around, but your help would be very appreciated.”

Hm. Something’s off? Oh well. I shrug and inflate the instance to the combat form I used back in Sultanate. The armor and the hammer are conjured, obviously… though I have to go with the battle dress because I don’t want to give an impression I am in habit of wearing conjured clothes all the time and… waaait, I just inflated my height by like half again what I usually am. Fuck. Oh well. Sensible armor, in that case. S’not like sir Malachi is somehow unaware I’m ridiculously powerful mage as is.

“I’ll take the point, you take command?” – I suggest to Malachi, who quirks his head, then grins ferally.

“Now, people, I don’t expect any of you to actually match the lady here, but by the gods, you WILL take meticulous notes while you have this priceless opportunity to see the real power in action.” – he suggests – “Work defensively, rely on magic first and foremost. You two with the bows, flank lady Gillespie and take shots at any stragglers. You two next to them, stick close to your archer pals and keep the riff-raff off them. The rest of you, split into two groups! You’re screening the flanks, keep your distance, use two-line formation. Front row watches for runners, rear row uses fire magic!”

“Oh, while we are at it. I have my golems keeping the circle around the ghouls. They look like big azure squirrels, so pay attention.” – I suggest – “Not sure if ghouls are smart enough to scatter or not, didn’t want to take chances.”

Malachi snorts. “They are not, but this is a good tactic if you have the prowess to spin golems.” – he comments as we proceed further – “Lady Gillespie, this is not crucial, but if the opportunity presents, try to disable some of the ghouls, would you kindly? Shattering the limb bones is fairly efficient, but the best results usually come if you can break their spines.”

“Sure, but why?” – I quip.

“Royal wizards like to have live samples for their investigations.” – he proffers simply – “They have high hopes for reversing this curse.”

I purse my lips. “Ah, well…” – I hedge – “I’m afraid ghoulification is not reversible. If the infection really takes, it destroys the brains entirely. I’ll send you my notes after we’re done, but the gist of it is that they would be better served figuring out a substance or spell that disrupts the fungal framework that keeps the whole thing in place.”

“Fungal?” – he repeats after me. What?

“Yeah, you know. The thing that grows over the brain and takes over the body. It’s a symbiote made out of a specific mushroom and some sort of protozoa colony. I’m not sure about the exact makeup of protozoa, they look artificial.” – I try to explain.

“Veeeeery interesting… Yes, I would definitely like to peruse your notes on the ghouls, milady.” – he growls – “And if you are amenable, show them to those tower peacocks. I told them the damn thing is an infection!”

“Out of curiosity, what are they treating it as?” – I ask as we step out on the glade that contains the majority of ghouls. Judging by the howls, they saw us too.

“A curse by dark magic, of course. The fools.” – he bites out as I kick off the usual bevy of acceleration and sensory spells and bash the first ghoul in the head. Whoops, melon meet hammer time. Dodge to the side, skewer this, reverse the swing, toss the body off, stomp on it stepping forward and to the side, the second swing… yes, caught it right between shoulder blades, nice and… whoops. Sorry, Jenkins. In all honesty, I didn’t expect that the heart would blast out through the ribcage like this. Still, you’re an Inquisitor in the training, getting a faceful of gore shouldn’t be a problem for you.

“Hrphroooo!” – he opines – “….Aaah, aaaaaaah, AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH!”

Oops. Meh, more ghouls to pulverize first.