Defiant Necromancer (Book 2 stubbing July 3)

The Grand Beastfolk Army marched across the territory with the energy of the inspired fanatic.

Their feet - or the hooves of their mounts - ate the distance as if they were starving for battle.

It took only a couple of days before they reached the first of the towns they’d been sent to capture, Humun.

I remember the last time I was here, Edgard thought. The town fell with only a modicum of - what’s this?

As he was recollecting the previous capture of Humun, the sand that had floated in the air just ahead, slightly obscuring his vision, settled.

The mummy could now see the outline of the town walls and the area surrounding them clearly. What he saw did not make sense.

Is there some group besieging what we have come to besiege?

He had seen shapes moving distantly through the sandy haze before. Now he saw what appeared to be catapults in motion, hurling stones at the walls.

Edgard called a halt and immediately connected with the necromancer.

“Master, do you see what I see?” he sent, sharing his vision.

“Are those our men?” Tybalt replied. “I can’t tell from so far away.”

“No, we are all- ” Edgard turned his head to the side so Tybalt could see the beastfolk and undead gathered behind him- “still at range. We came upon this in our approach.”

“Let me ask the Mayor if he has any idea what’s going on over there,” Tybalt said. “I have him right here. But if there was another armed force in the desert, I would think we would know it.”

A few minutes passed in relative quiet.

Edgard and the others around him observed in an uneasy silence as the hundreds of people surrounding the town continued to hit the walls from a distance, while the defenders sprayed arrows down at their adversaries.

We outnumber the attackers, Edgard assessed. And it’s unlikely that they could outfight us if we have even numerical parity. We could tip the scales in either direction if we chose.

Tybalt’s voice sounded again.

“Any developments?” the necromancer asked.

“No significant changes,” the mummy replied.

“The Mayor thinks it might be a group of bandits. We’ve heard about this before. A large gang that’s formed from all of the local groups being forcefully unified under one leader. And if we’re going to rule the Waste, we might as well start by ridding it of lawlessness. We will crush them.”

“Yes, master.”

“Advance toward their position and let me know when we’re within attack range. I’ll join you.”

Edgard did not allow himself to be surprised. Nor was he displeased. Tybalt showing himself, making his power felt, would make subsequent plans easier to execute.

It would show who was truly in charge of this expedition… and, in time, who would rule all of Abadd.

“Yes, master.”

“Approach, and prepare to engage!” Edgard commanded.

***

“I guess we can’t go back to what we were doing,” Dero said in a semi-reluctant, teasing voice.

Tybalt quietly groaned.

The dark elf had been training him in the privacy of one of the Mayor’s spare rooms, except for the brief few minutes Tybalt had paused to step out and ask the Mayor what he might know about other armed forces in the desert.

She was trying to help him master Teleport, at least theoretically.

Her methods were harsh, but they had reached a good compromise on how she could best help him learn.

“We have at least a few more minutes,” Tybalt said, trying to keep his voice steady.

Dero had his pants back down in a flash.

“All right,” she said. “You know what to do, and you know how to do it.”

He nodded, and she took his tip into her mouth again.

He let out a sigh, torn once more between enjoying the attention and staying at the ready.

She sucked him in deep this time, taking him all the way into the back of her throat until he had almost lost his composure. After a minute of this, he placed his hands on those long ears and began to use them as handlebars as he thrust into her mouth.

“Don’t stop,” he muttered.

Dero’s lips curled around his shaft - the closest she could get to smiling while giving Tybalt a blowjob - and she started doing something to the underside with her tongue and her teeth that almost made him release his grip.

The exquisitely balanced suction, pressure, and friction continued for another few minutes. Tybalt felt almost ready to explode.

But she seemed to know exactly the moment when he was experiencing the maximum pleasure. Then Dero tapped the back of his knee.

Tybalt stiffened, his expression slightly sad, but then he focused. He shifted his mana into a different form, envisioned himself, Dero, and their current orientations, and specified where he wanted to be.

And then: poof.

From standing by the doorway, they moved to just beside an oil lamp.

She pulled off of his shaft with a loud pop.

“That was great,” the dark elf said, looking into his eyes. “I mean, you reacted very well to my pressure. Do you feel like you can replicate this in a combat situation?”

This pressure is a lot better than you throwing void daggers at me, but it’s also a lot more distracting. I definitely think I can replicate this.

“I do,” Tybalt said. “When will I get the actual skill, though?”

Dero shrugged. “You have to keep practicing. You did well using it in this room the last four times. You didn’t leave me behind like you did when we were outside.

“Well, it helped that you told me what would happen if I did. Motivation matters.”

“Yeah, it would have sucked if you left your dick behind in my mouth and had to regenerate it or reattach it or something. You would’ve gotten me all bloody. Anyway, the system will definitely recognize you’ve mastered the skill soon. You do the Teleport for the group this time, all right? I mean, when we join your mummy.”

He cracked his neck. “I… think my mana’s a little low for that. Especially because I’m planning to fight next to the undead.” He met her gaze and waited for her to offer.

“I see how it is. Yes, I’ll help you. Again. I guess you’ll have to work on your, um, magical staying power later.” She rose. “Congratulations on passing your test.” She gave him a salacious grin and turned away.

“We still have a little time.” He took her by the hand, pulled her close, and then peeled her skirt off.

The dark elf grinned over her shoulder at him, grabbed his manhood, and guided him into her.

***

The Army drew to within striking range, and Edgard sent the message.

“We’re ready for you, master.”

The necromancer suddenly appeared right beside him, breathing heavily, slightly sweaty.

“I made it,” he said. He rolled his shoulders. “Let’s do some killing.”

A few feet away, the dark elf appeared, along with the fire mage, the foxgirls, and the catgirl.

He brought all his companions with him, Edgard thought. Well, I cannot deny they will be useful. At least half of them are combatants. Still, was that wise?

The apparent bandits had finally taken notice of them, and three dozen camel-mounted fighters rode toward the collection of undead and beastfolk. Rough-looking men and women, dressed in loose-fitting clothing that covered most of their skin, scowling and brandishing spears, lances, and even a few curved swords. They were prepared and equipped for the desert.

Even if they were seemingly not a professional fighting force but a bunch of lowlifes, the mummy wondered if the bandits might prove a danger for Tybalt and his women. They had appeared right at the front of the Army alongside Edgard, after all.

“Master, should I order the death knights to provide cover for your companions?” Edgard asked after a moment.

“They should focus on the enemies in front of us,” Tybalt replied instantly. “My fiancees are good at fighting…”

As Edgard was processing, the fire mage pointed at each of the ten frontmost bandits with her left index finger, and rapid-fire, she shot one burst of flame at each. The flames tore through the center of each man’s chest like a string of arrows. Ten corpses fell from ten camels.

Was she always so precise? the mummy thought.

He heard a chanting from his side and saw one of the foxgirls gently glowing with divine light. Then he felt himself grow stronger. He guessed the effect would have reached the other undead around, though he could not sense the spread of this field of energy as clearly as when the necromancer used Chthonic Consecration.

The other foxgirl’s eyes glowed bright blue, and suddenly, three of the camel-riders slumped to the side and fell from their camels. Edgard sensed their vital signs were still normal, but they appeared to be fast asleep.

The catgirl shot a string of short, red arrows made of mana and killed another half dozen.

Finally, the dark elf jumped ahead of Edgard and everyone else on their side. She swung her arm, and a line of purple light emanated out from the gesture.

The energy reached the remaining mounted enemies - two dozen or so - and kept going until it vanished into the air behind them.

For a split-second, the mummy wasn’t sure the attack had actually done anything.

Then camels and riders fell to the ground, bisected across the line where the energy had hit. The riders were mostly chopped in half at the waist, while the camels were more fortunate; they had all been decapitated.

Some of the dying warriors writhed on the ground, while most couldn’t move due to their spinal columns being severed.

The rest of the bandits in the distance seemed to react to this.

Edgard saw a few of them already trying to run away, shouting things like, “Soldiers!” and “Run, it’s the Army!” along with assorted profanities.

Tybalt turned back to face the rest of the Grand Beastfolk Army behind him.

“There, we’ve seen what their best can do!” he shouted. “Let’s mop up the rest!”

The beastfolk roared their approval and charged.

Tybalt’s voice rang through Edgard’s mind next, and he guessed the other undead were experiencing the same.

“Protect the beastfolk from getting hurt as best you can. Unlike our undead, I can’t fully repair them if they get torn apart. Probably.”

Skeletons, zombies, ghouls, draugrs, knights, and mummies charged alongside the beastfolk, acting to intercept arrows and block catapult shots with shields - or even, for those at high enough levels, with their arms or chests.

Seeing this, and the charging, yelling, enthusiastic beastfolk, the bandit force began to break almost before contact.

Then the Army was upon them, hacking, stabbing, and smashing with axe, spear, and hammer.

Within five minutes, the bulk of the bandits were no longer fighting back. They had clearly come here expecting to easily sack this town, and now that they were confronted by a larger, fiercer force, they had no plan except to flee.

As they ran, the beastfolk pursued them and cut them down. Tybalt did not give the order to stop or offer quarter, and the town’s defenders shouted encouragement from the walls.

“Kill those robbers!”

“They weren’t going to do any less to us!”

“Stab them in the guts!”

“Make them suffer!”

The carnage lasted for a quarter of an hour.

As they finished, the town opened its gates.

Edgard observed as Tybalt met the town watchmen.

“Thank you, strangers, for your timely rescue,” began the leader of the defenders. “I am called Miron. May we have the honor of knowing which regiment of the Royal Army we have to thank for our salvation?”

“No regiment of the Royal Army,” the necromancer replied. “You have been liberated by the Grand Beastfolk Army. We will be ensuring law and order are respected in these parts from now on. The Kingdom is to hold no further sway here.”

“I see,” said Miron, looking a bit torn. “We appreciate the rescue, certainly, but… the Mayor may hold a different view as to your specific proposal.”

“Take me to him, then,” the necromancer replied. “I will persuade him.”