The following morning. Fortress City of E-Rantel, Ilantier Inn.
I returned to the inn while it was still dark, and before the flickers of the Gate spell could fully dissipate in the gloom of the room, karmic retribution caught up with me—though I didn't realize it at the first moment.
"Lord Momonga," Shalltear's voice, arriving with the sensation of an incoming message, sounded somewhat frightened, "please forgive my tactless intrusion into your thoughts, but we have encountered a problem."
"What happened?" Had she actually managed to stumble into an attack by unknowns, and was the canonical disaster about to start? Or even worse, Demiurge? That would be a complete catastrophe...
"As you commanded, I explained certain things about adult life to Entoma..." I felt a nonexistent flush spread across her face through the mental link. "And everything was fine until... until she wanted to eat. I would never dream of bothering you with such a trifle!" It seemed to me the vampire was even shaking her head in a semi-panic. "But... but I was told that you ordered us to record all abnormalities, and... if you find it possible, could you contact Entoma... right now?"
"She wanted to eat?" Already suspecting something, I clarified.
"Exactly so... Forgive my shameful ignorance, My Lord, but I cannot handle this problem!"
"Very well, I will contact her now," I cut the connection and focused on the new recipient. "Fairy Vasilissa Zeta, do you hear me?"
"Master!.." In the voice of the former insect queen, there were tears and despair. "I... I..."
"Calm down, Fairy. Explain what occurred."
"I... I got hungry and started to eat, but the new mouth... I..."
"Hush, do not be afraid, everything will be fine," I tried to soothe the clearly panicking newborn fairy. "Tell me everything in order."
"My little cockroaches aren't tasty anymore," the girl began to complain, almost sobbing. "Crushing them is disgusting and it immediately makes me want to... such a strange, unpleasant feeling in my throat! I tried eating meat, but raw meat is even worse! It's tough and unpleasant now, I want to spit it out immediately! Lord Momonga, did I do something wrong during the ritual? Or... maybe... do I need to summon fairies and eat them?" Zeta finished with obvious hope that she had found a solution.
"No!" I nearly shouted aloud as the mental image formed in my mind. Oh, emotional stabilizer, you are right on time... "Listen carefully, everything went as it should, there is no reason to panic. Go to the head chef and have him feed you a salad or a soup. You can ask Aura and Mare what they eat, but do not even think about trying to eat summoned fairies! Do you understand me?!"
"Yes, My Lord..." The Battle Maid's voice lost its notes of doom. "I didn't think of that at all..." Now she sounded like someone struck to the core by a genius-level revelation that was actually incredibly simple, yet which they had failed to grasp for a long time. I am definitely going to lose my mind with them sooner or later...
"Good," I sighed mentally. "Contact me with the results... and convey my praise to Shalltear; she did the right thing by contacting me."
"Of course, Master! I will do exactly as you said!" Now there was joy and enthusiasm... Hmph...
"Until next time, then. I await your report," I severed the contact.
Ugh... This is even worse than managing a kindergarten with a toddler group. At least there, the accountable "little ones" can't end all life as we know it... though the spectrum of tasks, such as "teaching the child not to put cockroaches in their mouth," feels similar. Maybe I should find and kidnap a couple of good governesses somewhere? Preferably former adventurers—their psyches are sturdier. I wonder if such people even exist in nature?
"Did problems arise in Nazarick, Momo... Master Zellos?" Narberal asked me with concern.
"In a manner of speaking," I sat down on a chair. Not that my body grew tired of standing, but I felt more comfortable this way. "I performed an experiment on Entoma, and now her body and capabilities have changed somewhat, as a result of which..."
"Master Zellos!" Maug's voice reached us simultaneously with a knock on the door. "Master Bareare is here! He was attacked!"
Well, quite the start to the morning...
Subsequent events revealed an interesting picture—some assassin-girl had decided to visit my new friend during the night, obviously with the aim of bringing him to the necromancer. Unfortunately for her, the Shadow Demon assigned to the alchemist didn't appreciate the move, so it slipped into the uninvited guest's shadow and... froze, thereby completely binding and paralyzing its victim. Deliberate strangulation should have followed, but the assassin wasn't that simple—she was able to use Body Enhancement, which was enough to resist the strangulation, but she still couldn't overcome the paralysis. Why hadn't the demon called me immediately? That was my mistake; I should have either put a pair of them in Bareare's shadow or stayed within instant reach instead of vanishing to Nazarick, which the demon couldn't reach quickly. If he had strangled the lady, there would have been no problem, but he couldn't, and between notifying his master and ensuring the safety of his charge, the creature chose the latter, following the order to prioritize the alchemist's life and health above all else. The result? Enri's grandson's morning began with him waking up to find a girl leaning over him with clearly suspicious intentions and a face twisted in a brutal grimace. Given that this girl's armor bore numerous low-rank adventurer tags and a pair of stilettos hung from her hips, the smart lad figured out her profession quickly and... almost ran to call the guards, but the Shadow Demon was clearly angling for a bonus—it somehow managed to explain to its charge using gestures (specifically, shadow fingers) that he should run not to the guards, but to the mage he knew.
"...and that's how it went, Master Zellos," the alchemist finished his tale under the glass-sharp, curious gazes of the boy-adventurers from the other end of the tavern's dining hall. I didn't chase them away entirely, especially since Peter and Lukrut had already learned the general gist as they were the ones who let Bareare into the inn, but I chose a spot for the conversation far from their ears. For the same reason, I didn't shield us with a Silence spell; if necessary, I would have to edit everyone's memories all at once anyway.
"Hmph, not good," I drummed my fingers on the tabletop, "I didn't think to provide you with some guards."
"Guards? What are those exactly?" The boy frowned slightly. "And why did you send them to me?"
"Hmm? Oh, forgive me, I still can't get used to the fact that I'm not home anymore," I shamelessly began draping pre-prepared bullshit over everyone's ears. "Back where I'm from, it's standard practice to assign guards and messengers to friendly masters, especially those engaged in important work. After all, studying a new potion is a complex process; if something goes wrong, the Shadow can cover you, plus it's a good method of communication if you need something. And of course, it's protection against visits like this. I apologize for not informing you, but for me, it is an action as obvious and habitual as brewing potions is for you."
"I see," the boy scratched the back of his head. "Well, your foresight proved quite useful, so I'm not offended. But what should we do with this woman? Turn her over to the guards?"
"First, I would like to ask her a few questions about exactly what she came for—was it about the new potion, or did she have other reasons? That is worth knowing. Narberal."
"Yes, Master Zellos?"
"Go with Master Bareare to his laboratory and transfer the guest to Demiurge. Here," I pulled a scroll from my inventory, "a Gate scroll. Use it."
"As you command!" The girl accepted the roll of parchment with reverence.
"I hope this incident hasn't caused you too much trouble, my friend?"
"No, it's fine... but do you really think it's related to your potion?"
"I don't know. Your Talent might be involved too, but consider this: you've had the Talent to use any magical item your whole life, yet barely a day after I give you one vial, an uninvited guest pays you a visit in the night. Perhaps it is just a coincidence, but that is why I want to ask the intruder a few questions; the timing is just too perfect."
"I... suppose so."
"Perhaps I should assign you some protection? A couple of Death Knights would surely discourage unwanted visitors."
"Er, thank you, of course," the alchemist gave a nervous chuckle, "but I'm afraid they would discourage all visitors from my shop... and me too, if I'm being honest."
"Ha, you are all so nervous here. Well, as you wish, but surely you won't object to a couple more Shadows?"
"I won't. Thank you, Master Zellos. Now you've saved me as well—I doubt that woman had good intentions, whatever she came for."
"Well, enough of that," I waved a hand, "we both have plenty to do, so I suggest we end our talk here."
"Of course, Master Zellos," the boy nodded and, accompanied by Nabe, headed to his shop. The Battle Maid, of course, was not thrilled about leaving her beloved master among "these insects," but she did not contradict a direct command.
I pondered my next step and evaluated the previous one. So, the alchemist is already mine and he's not going anywhere—the Shadow Demons simply won't let him. Not that he would have gone anywhere before, but now this simple thought had been clearly conveyed to him. Whether politely, through hint or insinuation, Nfirea is a smart lad; he will realize that if something goes wrong, my pets will paralyze him just like his would-be kidnapper, and he'll subconsciously take that into account. Once that idea is rooted in his head, we can work further. Oh, he will tell us everything he knows, and he'll make a decent Lich-alchemist. He's a bit weak for now, but he's young; growing him correctly will be easy, especially knowing all his weaknesses... Hmm... Strange, everything seems right and logical, but why do I feel like I've forgotten something?! Now, where is my trusty notebook... Hm... My Legions of Terror will have transparent visors... no... I will treat any beast controlled by magic or technology with respect and kindness, so that if it breaks control, it won't immediately attack me out of revenge. That's closer. Does a pet alchemist count as a "magic-controlled beast"? No, well, he's a lesser being, but the context implies he'd be dangerous if he wanted revenge. Is Nfirea a danger? No, not even hypothetically in the future, so that doesn't fit... Oh! Here it is! A knife at the throat is not the only method of interaction with humans. Three exclamation marks, underlined twice. I don't quite grasp what is so extraordinary about this thought that it's underlined like that. It's obvious it's not the only way, or even the best—it's just intimidation, whereas planting magical parasites allows for precise control of a target, and for compliance without magic, there are bamboo needles and hot tongs, or simply mind-control spells—among lesser beings, no one has immunity or even a partial resistance. But it's in bold. And underlined. And exclamation points. And it's my handwriting. It means it was important back then... Hm, no emotional attachment to the words. What if I used a metaphor?
Only after two minutes—two goddamn minutes—did I "come down" a bit and "realize" that I meant basic "kindness," in the sense that cooperation doesn't have to be compelled by threats, physical force, or deception. Often, it's much easier to reach an agreement! And it took me two minutes to realize that. Then came that goddamn wind, which almost blew all the bewilderment out of me, reducing it to "well okay, if this was so important to me, I'll do it, but I don't see why I should bother so much."
Shit.
Total shit.
And I wanted to "reroll" a few NPCs to gather statistics, check mechanisms, and all the rest. But as if! The rate of my moral decay is clearly much higher than projected... though it wasn't particularly clear what to base that projection on. One week. I fear that if I don't change my race in a week, I will never change it—I simply won't see the practical sense in it. And the Kingdom will be doomed—after all, a country of the dead is much more convenient. No one argues, no one has stray thoughts. Everyone works exactly as they should, without breaks for eating, sleeping, groping their neighbor, and so on. Convenient and efficient...
Shaking my head, I forced those attractive thoughts out of my mind by sheer will and focused on the notebook. First, decipher the thesis about the knife: no allegories or metaphors, only a direct and unambiguous interpretation of the idea. Right, let's write the continuation: You can also just reach an AGREEMENT for mutual benefit! Ask PEACEFULLY! WITHOUT threatening and WITHOUT using violence! Being noble is PROFITABLE, because if you haven't coerced anyone, no one will hold a grudge or try to seek revenge! Furthermore, a happy subordinate working for pleasure works more effectively! Now, underline it. And again. And a bold exclamation mark, circled. There... I think I've covered everything. Second, note the necessity of a reroll for... let's mark it as necessary for further development. Perhaps this point will help "future me"... sigh, I need to speed up the form calculations. And wait for the data on the Fairy's functioning. For now... I need to distract myself. What's on the agenda? Ah yes, the necromancer...
Ideally, I should visit that cemetery necromancer as soon as possible before he senses something's wrong and flees. On the other hand, heading to the graveyard first thing in the morning to scour crypts... it's doable, but you might run into relatives of the deceased strolling there. Editing all their memories is too much hassle. Hm... yes. It's worth using the Mirror with the amplifier to peak inside and find the hiding sorcerer, then pay a courtesy visit in the evening. Not the best option, but it'll do. Now to wait for Nabe and cheer her up with new errands, and I can start immersing myself in mystical knowledge—there's my "teacher" appearing from the second floor. Perfectly timed.
"Good morning," I approached the girl disguised as a boy.
"Hello, Master Zellos!" this wonder bowed, clutching her staff. Something about it was vaguely reminiscent of Mare... hm, another "disguised" element. "Has something happened? I saw Master Bareare."
"Ah, everything is fine, a bit of trouble with some uninvited ill-wishers. You have nothing to worry about," I replied with my usual indifference.
"G-good," the girl clearly misinterpreted me, but it didn't matter.
"So, I believe an hour for breakfast will suffice, then we shall begin our work. Agreed?"
"All right," a determined nod. "But I'm not really sure where to start. You're clearly much more experienced in magic than I am, and I've never taught anyone."
"Start with definitions. What, in your opinion, is magic, magical power, energy, and magical manipulation? Combine the explanation with a practical demonstration. If something is unclear to me, I will ask."
"Understood," the caster made a serious face, but she had no time to do anything else.
"Hi everyone!" Brita appeared from the kitchen passage. Brita, wiping her hands on a rag, dressed lightly without any leather armor. Has the friendly male collective already designated the "only" woman as the squad cook?
"Good morning," I nodded, glancing at the two slackers who had also jumped up from the table. That's definitely what happened... It's almost a shame I wasn't present for the debate; I'd bet anything this redhead didn't surrender without a fight.
"Breakfast is ready," the girl announced cheerfully, confirming my thoughts. "And I'm ready to get to work, Your Magic-ness!"
"Very well, let's go," I turned to the sorceress. "Ninya, I expect you in an hour. We'll discuss the exact schedule later, based on the results of the first lessons..."
The alternating lessons lasted until evening, with breaks of course, as my "reader" and "lecturer" needed to wet their throats periodically, and physical needs couldn't be ignored. Half an hour after we started, Nabe returned, briefly reporting on the completion of her tasks, and from then on, both of us listened to Brita's reading and all subsequent lessons together. During lunch, while my "teachers" rested and ate, I contacted Albedo and gave new instructions—to sit and Watch by the Mirror, and I gave permission to use the amplifier scroll... at the same time asking her not to stare at me for too long and to actually deal with the necromancer in the crypt. Judging by the bashful squeak on the "other end of the line," I had once again correctly anticipated the thoughts of Nazarick's Overseer. I no longer had the energy or desire to be frightened by this. So, having issued the commands, I disconnected and refocused on the lecture, just in time for the demonstration. The girl pretending to be a boy showed the simplest manipulations, and... Nabe and I froze. A light shock was written on her face; I, due to physiological reasons, was stunned more subtly. The thing was, Ninya's manipulations were completely unfamiliar. As in, entirely! Her explanation that these manipulations serve to feel one's own magical power and learn to direct it to fuel spells clarified the picture a little, but only a little. Then came the perfectly logical sentiment that a spell is more powerful the more magic you pour into it. Naturally, there were nuances tied to the complexity and efficiency of the charms; a second-tier Fire Arrow would be several times more powerful than a first-tier Magic Arrow made of raw mana, even if injected with the same amount of power. Thus, local wizards had developed entire complexes of exercises to expand their reserves and the precision of their manipulations. And... as sad as it was, the local experts surpassed me and all of Nazarick in this. How was it for us? We had techniques "burned into our subconscious" into which we always put a certain portion of our power. Yes, given our levels, even a lowly Magic Arrow from me could rival a third-tier Fire Lance or even a fourth-tier Flaming Ram from a local expert, but I continued "clicking the icon," albeit one moved into my muscle memory. At most, I could cast a spell in "Maximize Magic" mode, which is when you pour in power to the absolute limit, or conversely, weaken it to the absolute minimum required for the spell to function—that's how I tried to poison bedbugs—but that's where the variability ended. Both, however, remained a mindless "click of the icon" and were strictly limited by the "system boundaries" of "class skills." Here, there was an exercise for the conscious management of one's power and a theoretical understanding of exactly what you are doing at every moment in time. This not only allowed one to play with spell power within the widest limits, but clearly opened up space for personal modification and alteration of spells. A whole new niche had opened before me! Magnificent! And to think the prisoners hadn't reported anything of the sort! Though... until now, they hadn't really been asked much about magic, with interest being more focused on political components. We'll see what Demiurge produces later.
When it began to grow dark, I dismissed Ninya and Brita, who could barely move their tongues, but I promised to continue tomorrow. Their collective, but very carefully hidden groan was balm to my small, black, nonexistent heart.
"What do you think, Nabe?"
"Quite... educational," the doppelganger pondered, "but for now, I see no use for this knowledge."
"There is a point. We still do not know who we might encounter in this world; using a cannon to kill sparrows can be far too wasteful. Therefore, the ability to dose your power—to weaken or, conversely, increase the potency of your spells without hitting your absolute limit—can be quite useful." I kept my explanation to the bare minimum, avoiding anything that might touch upon my total incompetence regarding the theory of magical science. Seeing that the girl understood my words but could not yet internalize them, I decided to offer an example that would certainly not leave her indifferent. "For instance, you could encourage creatures who irritate you with Electric Sparks; on one hand, providing them with a proper level of clarity, and on the other, without the fear of burning your subjects clean through, thereby ruining my plans and incurring my displeasure."
"Oh!" Now, genuine interest sparked within her. Motivating subordinates correctly is a fine art, after all, requiring the perfect blend of the carrot and the stick.
"So, one distinction has already been found, and it was only the first day. Let us see what the others bring us. But for now... how about paying a visit to a certain venerable death mage?"
"None of those nonentities deserve to be called a mage, let alone venerable, especially if they dare compare themselves in the art of Death to you, Master Zellos!" The Battle Maid was adamant.
"Be that as it may, we still must pay him a visit."
"As you wish, My Lord."
"Sigh... Nabe, you are far too serious. I would like to see you having fun and laughing. It must be a wonderfully pleasant sight." The Battle Maid flushed and looked away. Hmm... why did I suddenly get the feeling that Albedo and Shalltear were growling somewhere far away? Just my imagination, probably. Besides, Albedo should have found the right crypt by now; I ought to contact her and check.
A little later.
I checked. The Overseer had indeed found the necromancer—or rather, an entire sect loitering in the cemetery, clearly preparing something foul. The beautiful demoness was even so kind as to beg for an invitation to the showdown, seeing as "Narberal is so very busy right now." Exactly what Nabe was busy with didn't click for me immediately, but having activated my burgeoning skill for understanding the female logic of Nazarick's denizens (damn, I really am good! All that's left is to learn how to play billiards with dice and I can become the Creator!), I surmised that my loyal servant was worried that I had spent a second day in the company of this beautiful Battle Maid and was even saying things to her that made her blush and avert her eyes. Knowing my Guardians, I'm willing to bet that upon our return, the poor girl faces a rigorous interrogation from two terrifying monsters. No one would actually torture her, of course, but "what did you talk about, what did he say to you, give us a verbatim quote!!!" was a certainty. But back to the necromancer and the cultists.
The E-Rantel cemetery was quite old and vast—the only "final resting place" for a city of this size, filled over the course of a couple hundred years. In short, there was plenty of room for a necromancer and his apprentices, henchmen, or whatever they were to him, to run wild. Even I felt a certain lift in my spirits; it felt easier to breathe here, as far as such a phrase can apply to a lich. The question remained: what exactly did I want to do? Killing them all would be no problem—one 6th-tier Death Avenue, and everyone is down, right there in the crypt. No need to go far. But what benefit is there in that for me? On the other hand, a Death Mage who managed to raise a Skeletal Dragon—a 6th-tier summon, even with preparation, "catalysts," and various crutches—would not be useless. I recall in the canon he wished to become undead to continue his work on a certain spell; I think it had something to do with his mother, though the manga pages dedicated to that were from a long time ago and didn't particularly interest me. The main thing was that a spell existed. I don't know how far he has progressed in his craft, but a decent research mage would look good among my caretakers of the Library of Nazarick; perhaps he really will come up with something new. And if he can provide a foundation for necromancy that differs from what is available to me, I might even consider elevating him to a Greater Lich. Yes, it's decided—he will be useful to me, and as for his apprentices... if they prove loyal and competent enough, they will assist Demiurge. If not... one can never have too much experimental material.
With these thoughts, I removed my mask and entered the targeted crypt.
"You are late, Clementine," came a voice from the depths. Hmph, they dug themselves in well enough, but for losing their vigilance, they get an F. A skeletal one, straight through the heart.
"I am afraid Clementine will not be coming." I activated Unholy Presence—a racial trait of all demons and undead, a sort of aura of negativity that causes fear and confusion. And the stronger the user, the harder it hits the opponent.
"Eek!" The wave reached its targets.
"Into a circle, you cretins! Why are you just standing there?!" And there was the leader, apparently. A few more steps, and Narberal and I entered a torch-lit hall. Right: a dozen young people in black robes—check. A sacrificial altar with traces of blood—present. A bald old man in a scarlet robe with an amulet shaped like three small skulls—monkeys, judging by the structure—also check.
"Good evening, gentlemen." Politeness is important, especially when such amusing terror is written on the faces of these humans.
"My Lord..."
"The Lord has appeared!" The youths whispered among themselves and very quickly made a very correct decision—they all plopped down onto their knees. Narberal nodded approvingly.
"Who are you? What do you want?" Their leader gripped his staff until his knuckles turned white; he felt the power radiating from me, but he held his ground. Apparently, his goal was more important to him than fear. Honorable. However, there was someone else here capable of "answering" that question.
"Do you not feel it, fool?" the smooth black stone in the mage's hands whispered deathly. "This power, this aura of absolute death? It is obvious that the Lord of Death stands before you! O Lord! Accept my oath of fealty and allow me to join the ranks of your servants!" A talking stone. There was something like that in the manga... I think a mutant hamster caught by Momonga ate it there, and... that's it, I don't remember anything else about the thing.
"I have many names and titles. Though your friend is right, 'Lord of Death' is one of them." Generally, it's a profession—that is, a class at the peak of the Necromancer line's development—and Momonyan has it maxed out. "As for your question, I came here drawn by the emanations of death. I have plans for this city, and a mass raising of undead is not among them."
"I..." Beads of sweat broke out abundantly on the man's bald head, even though the dungeon was likely quite chilly. "I cannot back down!" Overcoming a moment of weakness, the necromancer exclaimed with fervor. "I need time to finish my research, and only by becoming undead can I obtain it! You must understand me! For you, too, have traveled further down this path than anyone else!"
"I understand," I tilted my head slightly, letting the red pinpricks in my eye sockets flare up, "but what does that have to do with the city?"
"I need power!" Sensing an opening for dialogue, the man leaned forward. "Only by destroying everyone living in this city can I obtain enough Death energy for the ritual of transition to another state!"
"I see..." I gestured to stop Narberal, who already looked ready to either take offense at the fact a lesser being was talking back or something else. "Tell me, what is this time for? The time you wish to gain?"
"I have..." The sweating sorcerer swallowed, continuing to grip his staff painfully to steady the trembling in his hands, "I have a dream—no, a goal! I must improve the Resurrection spell so that it does not drain life force, so that even an ordinary human can endure it. I have spent over thirty years, but I need two hundred more. Only in an undead state can I obtain the years I require."
"Very well." I dampened the aura of Unholy Presence, though I didn't remove it entirely. "But I cannot allow the destruction of this city, and therefore I have an offer for you. Swear fealty to me, and I shall personally oversee your transformation into a Lich and grant you access to knowledge you cannot obtain anywhere else in the world. In exchange, I demand service. In life and after death. So, what is your answer? Will you kneel before Zellos, the Lord of Death, stand down and leave in peace, or will you persist and find final death? What is your choice, necromancer?"
"I..." The man swallowed once more, but he did not think for long and submissively dropped to one knee. "I, Khajiit Dale Badantel, one of the Twelve Disciples of the Zurranon cult, swear fealty in Life and Death to my Lord, Zellos-sama. And I bring my Gift." The mage reached out and offered an elegant circlet, fashioned like a diamond spiderweb with a dark stone at the center. A beautiful little thing; I believe this was what they wanted to put on Nfirea.
"I, Zellos, Lord of Death, Master of the Great Tomb of Nazarick, accept your oath and your gift." I turned my head toward the apprentices who were still bowed. "You have the same choice I provided to your leader."
"Accept my oath, My Lord!"
"And mine!"
"Mine as well!" In the end, there were no refusers.
"Excellent." After accepting the oaths from the apprentices as well, I contacted Demiurge.
"How may I be of service, My Lord? Do you wish to teach me another lesson?"
"A lesson?"
"The moment we launched our scouts, you delivered a hidden saboteur from the Black Scripture to us—one who knows the habits of her group, the details of their armor, and their tactics thoroughly. I do not understand how you calculated her presence in the city, but now we can learn everything about her former comrades, their strength, and their capabilities! The most hidden and secret of the Scriptures is now practically in our hands!" In the demon's voice, admiration for my genius blended with a touch of sadness—sorrow that his adored Lord considers him so dim-witted (yes, yes, after that panic with finding global conspiracies out of thin air and my remark that he missed three whole factors, Demiurge is experiencing "unbearable suffering") that I provided him with a near step-by-step instruction and personally dragged over an "acquaintance" of those forces in the neighboring state he had barely begun to study. Siiigh. And no matter what I do, it will be taken as a revelation.
"I merely simplified your task. Your strategic genius is unquestionable, Demiurge, but your time is valuable, and wasting it on unnecessary effort when one can do without it is foolishness. Besides, I wish to throw more tasks your way."
"Everything in my power shall be done, My Lord!"
"Wonderful. One of the Twelve Disciples of the Zurranon cult has sworn fealty to me."
"Eek!.. E-excellent work, Master! As expected of the greatest of the forty-one Supreme Beings!" Did I imagine it, or did he sound a bit nervous?
"Is something wrong, Demiurge?"
"I... I learned of the very existence of this cult twelve minutes ago. And already, one of the twelve leaders of this society of death mages has sworn fealty to you. Once again, I see the abyss that separates me from the greatness and wisdom of the Lord!" Well, that was awkward.
"Be that as it may, I intend to send him and his retinue to Nazarick. Assign the juniors to compiling textbooks, as well as to studying and maintaining our undead. Though they are human, loyal and motivated casters serving us are a valuable resource that can yield much benefit in the long run. Perhaps among them, talents will emerge capable of reaching the level of the Guardians of the Great Library of Ashurbanipal or even higher. This must be taken into account and they must be treated accordingly; after all, they are now part of Nazarick and my servants. As for the Disciple, question him about the cult, their activities, bases, composition, and assets. Yes, I also want you to give Khajiit—that is the necromancer's name—the Lesser Book of the Dead and introduce him to Titus Annaeus Secundus. I liked the topic this future Elder Lich wants to develop; at the same time, he will help Titus with the translation of local texts, should such help be required."
"It shall be done, Master!" the demon assured me.
"I have alerted my servants of your arrival; they will be waiting for you." I removed my hand from my temple and addressed the necromancer. "You, Khajiit, will be given a book describing a more perfect ritual for becoming undead. Read it carefully and prepare; I shall provide the necessary amount of power."
"Thank you for your generosity, Master!" the mage bowed.
"I have taken an interest in what you wish to invent. Also, you will have to answer the questions of my trusted servant. Remember: those who call themselves Guardians and Pleiades, regardless of how they look, are far above you, and disobedience to them is disobedience to me. Now—go." I opened a transition arch to my trusted demon. "The same applies to you all."
"We will not fail you, Master Zellos!" the cultists bowed once more and moved together into the arch of the magical Gate. I remained in the crypt, now abandoned by its former owners, and only one question remained for me—is it worth bothering with the one full Skeletal Dragon everyone simply forgot about and one unfinished one, or to hell with them? Though... it would be a shame to let good material go to waste...
"Undead Domination!" The dragon cracks the floor with its body and, emerging into the main cave, bows its head. Fine, I'll quickly raise the second one and send them to the second floor of Nazarick—they'll be useful for the household. And the rest of the corpses will do just fine for Death Knights, since I'm already here anyway...