Defiant Necromancer (Book 2 stubbing July 3)

Tybalt named the monster Charon.

Then he opened its status.

This single undead was physically stronger than any undead Tybalt had ever seen before. Probably stronger than any thing Tybalt had ever seen before. Barring that dragon…

Those first two skills are self-explanatory, but the last one…

Reaper’s Scythe: Conjure a scythe made of pure chthonic mana to reduce anything it touches to dust and return it to the soil from whence it came. Consumes mana.

That’s absurdly powerful, if the text is accurate. Better than any of my damage-dealing skills. Maybe better than any other undead’s damage-dealing skills.

That skill might even have allowed Tybalt to defeat Eolas if he’d struck it with the scythe while his magic-resistant scales were broken.

No, that’s too speculative… I was lucky my gambit with Baldwin worked at all, let alone hoping that this Reaper’s Scythe is powerful enough to kill a dragon. He’d probably have some other bullshit resistance that only kicks in if he’s about to take a fatal wound.

A thought occurred to Tybalt: that perhaps the General he was expecting to clash with in a matter of weeks actually possessed a power like that. That might be the root of why none of Vidalia’s visions of the future concluded with the necromancer winning. Because the General could reverse time whenever he was about to lose.

No, that wouldn’t explain the fact that he seems to age in between visions… unless the ability is powered by sacrificing lifespan.

“What is it?” asked Victoria excitedly.

“Oh.” Tybalt had almost forgotten his fiancees were there, even though they were still supporting him. He stood up straighter, his fatigue momentarily forgotten. “It’s sort of an obscure undead, but what we’ve created is called a gashadokuro. It comes from the bones of the fallen.”

“Is it powerful?” asked Kistana.

Tybalt willed the monster to become invisible. It vanished instantly, and the two beastgirls jumped, then both looked from side to side, trying to figure out where it might have gone.

The necromancer willed it to show itself again, and the giant skeleton reappeared.

“It’s not only powerful,” Tybalt said. “It’s also stealthy.”

“A giant monster that sneaks up on you, huh?” said Dero’s voice, suddenly right behind Tybalt’s left ear. “Color me skeptical. Wouldn’t people hear it coming?”

Tybalt sent a quick instruction, and the gashadokuro began to walk. The sand leaped wherever it set foot. He willed it to become invisible, and while the sand movement seemed to grow a little quieter - the noise hadn’t been very audible to start with - the little bursts of sand were still quite visible.

“Well, its other abilities are undoubtedly very effective,” Victoria said, squeezing Tybalt’s arm.

“I hope so,” said Dero.

“With these new undead, I shouldn’t have too much trouble splitting my forces again,” Tybalt said.

“What about the other one there?” asked Victoria, pointing at the banshee.

“She’s a banshee,” Tybalt said. He pulled up the spirit’s status sheet.

He focused on her sole skill.

Shattering Shriek: Focuses spiritual energy into a powerful sonic attack that damages mind, body, and soul. Consumes mana and stamina.

“She has a powerful screeching attack,” Tybalt said.

“How do you like being a powerful spiritual creature?” he asked the banshee telepathically. He still remembered that just listening to her voice was painful, even when she was whispering, so he knew he’d have to carry out any conversation with her in silence.

“It is more than I expected from death,” she replied mildly. “I was hoping for nothingness, but anything that evades the torments of Kur is welcome.”

He didn’t bother to correct her misunderstanding of what the afterlife actually entailed. For now, she thought he was rescuing her from something worse than service to him. That idea would work out well, if she continued to believe it. Free willed creatures, like she seemed to be, could misinterpret or twist orders, even if they couldn’t directly defy them, so a genuine willingness to obey was always desirable.

That thought process made him suddenly conscious of the fact that he still hadn’t given the group of monsters any orders, as was his usual practice.

He gave quick instructions to the monsters as a group, about obeying and protecting him, his fiancees, and those in his command structure, in that sequence. The directions were a rote performance at this point.

Then he called out Unholy Forces from his storage ring, made sure he remembered the correct runes for Undead Summoning, traced those symbols into the sand with his fingers, and teleported Baldwin to their location. Fortunately, there was no wind to mess up the runes before he finished them.

“Good to see you,” Tybalt said.

“Always a pleasure to be of service, master. What do you need?”

“You are going to partner with Sir Damek of Humun to hunt down a crew of bandits. Ask him how many undead he believes the two of you need, and then take that number with you, along with some of the town watch, into the mountains in pursuit of the brigands who threatened this place. You’ll kill them and recover their bodies to bolster our army. The rest of the undead I already have made will mostly move on to the next town. I’m leaving only a skeleton crew behind here. So make sure Sir Damek knows he needs to get the number right.” He lowered his voice. “Also, you’re assessing this knight to see if he’ll be of any use to me. If he’s dead weight on the trip, feel free to cut his throat or accidentally push him off a cliff, as long as you can do it discreetly.”

“Understood,” said Baldwin, raising an eyebrow. “And what will you be doing? It sounds like you’re trying to take this town rather than just destroying it like some of the others.”

“I’m going back to Whadesgart,” Tybalt replied. “My appearance here wasn’t really something I planned in the first place. It just happened because of the unexpected bandit situation. They were attacking the town when we got here, since the locals stopped paying protection money. As for why I’m returning to Whadesgart, the Mayor back there is making things comfortable for the rest of our people, but he’s doing it because the man who fended off a dragon wants him to. So I can’t vanish for too long unless I want to depose him and put someone else in charge who’s more reliable. Which is a complication I’d rather delay.

“He might even be pliable enough to remain in his position after the Kingdom falls. Hard to say. As for this place, I’m indifferent to it, but it’s far enough from the beastfolk and their mountains that it’s not important as a logistical hub. Whadesgart is closer to the mountains and a much better source of supplies and base of operations. And the Army would need to pass by Whadesgart to get here. So, if I’m allowing Whadesgart to continue to exist, this town is redundant from their perspective.”

The revenant nodded. “Farewell, then, master. Don’t start any fights with dragons.”

“Never,” Tybalt said seriously. “Never again. Certainly not without you to serve as my shield.”

A couple of minutes later, Sir Damek appeared outside. Tybalt had ordered one of his undead to send him.

When the knight saw the force Tybalt had available, his face paled slightly - as if he hadn’t seen the other undead marching through the street alongside the beastfolk earlier - but after a moment’s hesitation, he requested a hundred and fifty of them for his mission. So the necromancer let him have that number. Zombies, revenants, skeletons, a nachzehrer. A large and dynamic force with varying strengths and weaknesses.

Unless the bandits were concealing a large group of soldiers somewhere, it’s overkill, but at least some of my weaker creatures can get some experience.

The mummies, the wight knights, the banshee, and the gashadokuro would advance, leading the bulk of Tybalt’s force, both living and dead, to the next two towns. And hopefully Humun would remain pacified in Tybalt’s absence.

He walked back into the town’s gates once more and found the watch at their posts. He immediately approached Miron.

“Make sure the locals know,” Tybalt told him loudly, in full hearing of the other watchmen, “If there is a rebellion here against the people I am leaving behind to run things, I have no trouble coming back. If I have to come back, I’ll retaliate for any disobedience, up to the point of reducing the entire town and all its inhabitants to dust.”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” said Miron with a stiff expression. “We understand. We will do our best to enforce your peace.”

“Good.” He placed a hand on the watchman’s shoulder. “Unlike Sir Damek, I already think I know your measure, so just don’t disappoint me, and who knows? You might end up running this town.”

That made Miron’s eyes widen, and then he lowered his head in a gesture Tybalt assumed was false humility.

“I’m not worthy of such an honor, Your Majesty. But I will strive to live up to the high opinion you’ve formed of me.”

Tybalt nodded. “I believe in you.”

He departed through the gates once more, and Dero returned them to Whadesgart.

“What do we do now?” asked Mariella.

The sun was almost setting already. The day was nearly over.

“First, dinner,” Tybalt said. “Then… I believe tonight is Vidalia’s night?”

The foxgirl nodded.

“Time for some quality time,” Vidalia said in her best impression of an innocent voice. “Cuddling.”