Chapter Six: If Both of Them are Dead

Chapter Six: If Both of Them are Dead

Dante was a rather stranger person, not that I was the best judge of character. I only ever had time for magic and the secrets of the universe.

Dante seemed incredibly helpful, kind even, but even at the mention of hurting Pater (someone whom he never spoke ill off) his teeth would sharpen, his eyes squint, and he would affect a devilish smile. He didn’t even seem to know it was happening. This raised him slightly in my desire to research but not greatly.

Talking to him, I learned that the only door to the dungeon we were in led up into a courtyard that until a week ago was staffed by humans. Pater, an undead necromancer of some sort, had raised the dead from the surrounding farms and swarmed the defences before the alarm could be raised.

I knew I should feel at least sad at the loss of life, perhaps it was my undead body, I only felt grateful at the turn of events. At least popping up in the middle of an undead fort I’d get a chance to explain myself before being attacked.

Or perhaps not, Dante went on to explain that Pater was someone who loved fighting and loved winning. He apparently arranged regular matches between the non sentient undead for sport. A bit at odds with the personality of your regular necromancer but not the strangest thing I’d heard of.

Pater apparently respected strength above all, so we would be unable to get out of here without a fight, be it token or otherwise.

When Dante had played a tune about a baker's daughter who was vivacious and full of life a riot had broken out amongst the lower level undead. At first Pater had cheered and celebrated the carnage, but when he saw Dante cowering under a table he ordered he be sent to the dungeons and his strings cut. The zombie brute was sent to be his guard, he was supposed to check on Dante every hour or so. Unfortunately the beast couldn’t tell the cells apart and kept barging into the wrong one.

Discussing the plan for when night fell, even with all the contingencies, only took us an hour or two. I spent the rest of the time listening to Dante’s singing, after some practice and mental effort I was able to resist the odd charming effect his music had completely.

The sun fell completely after only four hours of audio torture.

I stood, hearing signs of movement in the courtyard above. I cracked the door, not at all tentative, before ascending the staircase into the keep. Three walls surrounded us with circular towers on each corner. We stood in the marshalling yard looking up at the facade of a small castle. Zombies mixed with occasional skeletons came shambling out of the towers to take positions in disorderly rows. As they moved they completely ignored us, not diverting course in the least, some walking straight through Dante bowling him over.

After ten minutes, doors opened on the second floor of the castle, and a man stepped onto the balcony.

His noseless face looked out triumphantly over the horde. His piercing black eyes inspected the ranks line by line. The slender undead by his side and the zweihänder on his back illustrated the size of this man. The long oily black hair completed the picture of an undead conqueror. There was something odd about the woman who stood to the left and behind him, where Pater’s mana channels had clearly been destroyed and regrown with perhaps some assistance the women seemed to have mostly survived death. I studied the woman as she kept her eyes fixed on the ground and maintained an unassuming posture. She might be a mage, but if so not a very strong one. I had no more time to consider as Paters gaze reached the front of the ranks Dante and I stood in a mirror of their positions.

“Dante, how did you get out?” Pater bellowed. While his tone was demanding a smile remained plastered on his face.

“And who’s this you’re hiding behind?” He added, the smile slipping slightly.

“I am Osseus the Lich!” I proclaimed. I learned long ago that confidence was the best way to talk to people like this.

“Are you now?” Pater asked, as he stared straight through me. The woman behind him coughed once and he snapped back into focus.

“So you are.” He beamed, placing a hand on the railing before swinging himself over. The only one who reacted when he hit the ground with a thump was Dante, who jumped back slightly. The woman silently disappeared back into the castle.

“I’ve never fought a rare class before.” He said, looking me up and down with a hungry look. I schooled my features to hide the discomfort I felt at that, before realising it was pointless. All he saw was a grinning skull.

“Is it true that their class abilities are ten times as strong as an uncommon?” He continued, advancing.

That last statement had just taught me something, Pater only had a low level analyse skill. According to Dante at higher levels the skill could tell you someone's level and a class only got its first ability at level ten. He didn’t know how he knew it, the information was just so deeply entrenched he couldn’t forget it. Like speech or social fopaux.

Speaking of the boy, he was hiding behind my ribcage - using it as a shield between himself and the grinning man.

“What say you?” He asked, placing an over-large hand on my shoulder.

I could feel his muscles tense like a coiled spring through my clavicle.

“Later,” I replied, keeping the confidence in my voice. “I have come a long way to see the exploits of lord Pater. Able to take a living fort with so little loss of unlife, I'd love to hear the details.”

Paters smile widened as his grip loosened and a squeezing hand turned into a guiding arm.

“By all means, let me give you a tour of the place after breakfast - then perhaps a quick spar?” Pater asked. I only smiled at him.

“How did you meet this one?” Pater asked, as he looked over his shoulder at Dante.

“I was on my way into the fort when I heard this young man’s singing and had to investigate, one of your minions got in my way so I had to remove him. I hope you don’t mind.” I explained, the pre prepared story tripping easily from my tongue bone.

“Hmm, oh it happens all the time, none of these lot have yet awakened so it doesn’t really matter.” The large man replied as he gestured to the undead and they started taking positions on the wall, some of them following us into the castle.

“I did wonder why the drawbridge was lowered and the portcullis open.” I said, genuinely curious.

“Because I welcome anyone who would try and take my title, any are welcome to try.” Pater replied, with confidence bordering on arrogance.

You have been made aware of an open Challenge:

• Anyone may enter

• The terms are single combat

• The prize is a Title: Lord of Far-Reach Fort

I swiped away the notification, momentarily stunned that this system had such functionality. The questions that raised.

We walked through an entryway lined with arrow slits. This place was built with only one thing in mind. The decor reflected this truth. There were few displays and those that lined the walls were of a martial nature, crossed swords and the like. It truly was a wonder they had taken this place so easily.

Finally we came to a dining room equipped with a giant banquet table. The larger undead, like the one in the dungeon, had followed us and each stood behind a chair. I was assigned the seat next to the head, the woman sat opposite me and Dante to my right. As soon as Pater sat the woman sat and the other undead followed in unison.

I wanted to ask this mysterious hooded woman if she was a mage but Pater had spent the whole time talking about his strongest opponents and his greatest victories, be they real or imagined. Not wishing to offend I nodded and congratulated where appropriate.

Before long the food was brought out. The undead didn’t need to eat but they could gain energy by consuming life, thankful we were not served a plate of wriggling humans but grubs.

I had spent a year of my apprenticeship stranded in the deep jungle to “Build character” really I’d just annoyed my master with too many questions.

I had learned a lot there, appreciating food in any form was just one lesson.

When I placed the squirming grub between my teeth all the life essence was sucked away, leaving only a dried husk to clatter through my bones and onto my seat.

The experience was rather pleasant, like the comfort of a warm shower mixed with the invigoration of a cold one.

The silverware was truly silver so I instructed Dante to discreetly palm a fork as squirmed away from his squirming platter.

The meal was over quickly and, as he said, Pater took me for a tour of his castle. Dante followed, mostly forgotten, beside him was the woman from before but she walked as straight as a board and never spoke. Whenever I looked at her she seemed to flinch, ever so slightly. Now that I thought of it she had completely refused to make eye contact with me during breakfast.

We soon came to the infirmary and Pater explained that he had raised the dead from a recent disease outbreak, meaning the fort was struck from both without and within simultaneously.

When I asked how a man as large and with such a strong odour (I didn't say the latter) Managed to infiltrate the castle’s infirm without raising an alarm he was only evasive.

He pointed out the latrines which he had undead swim through, the hiding place he had made in a horse manure pile near the stables, and the tunnel they had built from the moat to the marshalling yard. Although the last was completely submerged, that was no problem for those who don’t breathe. The whole plan, from what I could make out, was incredibly well put together and had excellent timing.

That would either require impeccable planning or some means to communicate I had not yet observed. From what I could gather of his personality he lacked the mental acuity for the former and, from what I could see, required line of sight to command the undead.

The last stop on the tour was a dirt square surrounded by the toughest looking zombies decked out in the best armour the fort possessed.

“Now, it’s time we fight.” Pater proclaimed, unstrapping his zweihänder from his back, a hungry look in his eye.

“Now that you’ve seen what I’m capable of, I’m sure you’d be glad to work under me.” The threat was evident in his voice.

Squeezing my carpels tightly, I took a silent breath then stepped forward.