At the sight of Walter’s metallic skeleton hand, Thyvin uttered one word.
“Fascinating…”
It would seem that Thyvin was completely enthralled by Walter’s hand. On the other hand, Walter was still reeling from the fact that the necromancer just attempted a potentially lethal spell on him. But he suppressed that feeling as cleared his throat before he proceeded to speak.
“This is fascinating indeed but…”
Walter presented his fleshless right hand to Thyvin while he spoke.
“I believe that you got a little too ahead of yourself. It isn’t exactly normal for a man to walk around with a fleshless metal hand and I doubt that I can conceal it with my glove.”
Now that he got Thyvin’s attention, the tone of Walter’s voice became audibly more irritated.
“For both our sakes, I hope that you have a method to fix this.”
“Oh r-right I apologise. Ehem.”
Thyvin coughed in an almost embarrassed manner.
“Healing magic works on you right?”
“The spell known as ‘Hyperia’s Light’ once healed me of a serious injury.”
Thyvin heaved a sigh of relief in response to Walter’s answer.
“Oh thank goodness. Then that means that this spell should also work.”
The markings on Thyvin’s coat began to glow a purple light again as he opened his palm and splayed out fingers while aiming his hand towards Walter. This time, instead of casting a spell which stole life, he casted a spell which did the exact opposite.
“[Grant Life]”
Within seconds, Walter’s hand was restored to its original state, once again appearing as a normal human hand. While Walter had to thank Thyvin’s ‘healing magic,’ it was also because the necromancer made such a brash decision in the first place that put them in that situation. Thinking about it, it didn’t even make that much sense, after all–
“How did that drain life work in the first place? Didn’t you say that you sensed only ‘undeath’ in me? What ‘life’ was there to drain, let alone grant?”
Thyvin only shrugged casually as he answered Walter’s question.
“Not even I know the answer. I can only guess that I probably drained the ‘life’ from your ‘living’ flesh while your ‘undead’ skeleton was untouched. ”
Thyvin gave a passing glance to one of his skeletons as he spoke.
“Truth be told Walter, I don’t even know what kind or ‘species’ of undead you are but from what I’ve seen so far, it would seem that you are some sort of ‘undead-living’ hybrid symbiote. And judging from the way that you can move your hand after the flesh faded away, your undead half can probably exist independently from your living half.”
So that would explain why I felt no pain.
Using his ability to slow down his perception of time, Walter once again fell into deep contemplation with these new findings.
After hearing parts of Thyvin’s theorem, Walter concluded that his lack of pain was likely due to the nervous system in his hand being destroyed by Thyvin’s spell combined with the fact that he ‘didn’t need’ his flesh to continue utilising his hand. As such, he didn’t feel any pain without any pain receptors and his body didn’t sense that ‘anything was wrong.’
That would also explain why he was able to easily shrug off the pain of the crossbow bolt embedded into his thigh back then. In all likelihood, his ‘undead’ nature was also the reason behind his ability to not need sleep as well as his ability to slow down his perception of time. The human brain can only do so much. However, the case wasn’t the same for those who didn’t ‘use’ their brain.
Thyvin’s skeleton knights who were little more than moving bones yet still possessed powerful cognitive abilities were the best examples. Evidently, magic, especially ‘heretical’ magic was a pathway to many abilities some consider to be unnatural. The only difference between Walter and those mindless slaves was that Walter retained his own conscious.
While all this was only a hypothesis, it was better than nothing. Not only that, but this newfound discovery has given him the ability to push some of his schemes ahead of schedule. Now that his thoughts were in order, Walter allowed time to continue at its normal pace and listened to whatever else Thyvin had to say.
“That’s not the only thing either… If I’m not mistaken, then your metal is composed of either mythril or adamantite… it might even be made of something unknown that’s even more incredible… Either way, your bones may very well be indestructible.”
Thyvin giggled halfway through his words.
“It would be a lie if I claimed that I didn't find this to be very exciting. In all my years of necromantic research, I never found anything close to being as interesting as you are. Do you belong to an ancient species that was long extinct or are you something new entirely? Perhaps we shall perform more experiments for… academic purposes.”
“I would prefer if we suspend those experiments for now.”
Walter instantly declined Thyvin’s suggestion on the spot before he stated his own requests.
“However, there are two things that I would like you to do for me.”
“Yes?”
Although he sounded somewhat confused, Thyvin nevertheless responded affirmatively. With a friendly smile on his face, Walter said his first request.
“So first, can you just stand still for me?”
“Like this?”
Still confused, Thyvin splayed out his hands as he stood up straight.
“Perfect.”
Walter only replied with one word.
And then he punched Thyvin in the face.
Caught off-guard, the necromancer’s face caught the full force of Walter’s fist. Staggering backwards, Thyvin would have collapsed if one of his skeletons didn’t come in to support him. With a shocked expression on his face, Thyvin opened his mouth to speak only to be interrupted by Walter.
“I’m sorry but you deserved that.”
Walter still spoke in a cordial manner as he explained himself.
“Don’t forget that you could have killed me with that ‘experiment’ of yours. Next time, think before you act.”
Apparently caught off-guard for the second time, Thyvin was left speechless for a short moment before he was able to say his excuse.
“But the drain life spell is only effective on living beings, it will have no effect on the undead.”
“Yet I’m not exactly ‘undead’ am I? You said it yourself, I am some sort of undead-living hybrid.”
Walter was easily able to rebuke Thyvin’s excuse. The latter may be a powerful necromancer but this was a conversation, his mastery over life and death meant did little to help his case. Probably knowing that Walter was correct, Thyvin didn’t reply as he silently caressed his bruised chin.
With a sigh, Walter took out a napkin as well as a small vial that was about the size of his finger and was filled with a lime-green liquid from his inner coat pockets. While handing over both objects to Thyvin, Walter casually and subtly changed the subject..
“Here’s a napkin and a health potion. Neither of us want your family to be questioning what happened to your face, especially with the Frankonians lurking about.”
Walter waited for Thyvin to wipe his mouth and drink the potion first before he resumed speaking.
“Speaking of the Frankonians, the second request actually has some relationship with them.”
With his ‘injury’ soon disappearing thanks to Walter’s health potion, Thyvin questioned Walter casually.
“And that is?”
“I wish to visit the abandoned eastern mine. There is a particular peoples of interest there that I would like to meet. I am hoping that you will escort me there.”
An expression of utter shock appeared on Thyvin’s face when he heard what Walter wanted to do. His voice even trembled slightly when he spoke.
“The abandoned mine? You can’t be serious.”
“Oh I am absolutely serious.”
Walter’s tone remained nonchalant while he explained.
“The arrival of the Frankonians forced my hand. If we want to continue on with Operation Green Thumb then we will need to recruit outside aid who specialises in stealth and subterfuge. It’s just that those fine folks at the mine happened to be the perfect candidate.”
“It is because of those ‘fine folk’ that even adventurers avoid that mine. They aren’t clumsy goblins who rely on crude stone weapons, they are a species who are far more intelligent than greenskins.”
Despite Walter’s explanations, Thyvin still expressed his doubts.
“Not only that but whenever a powerful group of adventurers or heroes successfully cleared out the mine of those creatures, it would only take a couple years for those creatures to take over the mine again. Their ability to survive is uncanny.”
“I wouldn’t have made my decision if I wasn’t confident in my ability to succeed.”
Yet Walter would not be dissuaded. While his mannerisms was nonchalant, there was an underlying tone of authority in his voice.
“Now listen very carefully. I’m only going to explain once.”
Admittingly, Walter probably would not have the confidence he had now if it weren’t for this recent turn of events. Although this recent discovery also lead to more questions, he was still sure of one thing.
He was immortal.
...
Arielle gazed up towards the stars of the night sky from her balcony within Belmud’s castle. Even though Velvina already left the Principality of Valha hours ago, Arielle still felt uneasy. The likely presence of the Crimson Cult in the area meant that there were now twice as many obstacles in her mission.
The gods must have a twisted sense of humour. It’s already bad enough that there is a rogue transmigrator out there somewhere doing whatever he or she wishes. And yet, the gods felt that that wasn’t enough. Now, Arielle not only had to find this transmigrator, but she also had to do so before the Crimson Cult does.
Thankfully, the Crimson Cult’s status as daemon worshipping heathens meant that they had to operate in the shadows, lest they be hung on the gallows. In contrast, Arielle and her Chivalric Knights didn’t need to concern themselves about such things. It was because of that one key advantage that Arielle felt that the situation was still within her control.
Furthermore, this was not her first time dealing with the Crimson Cult. Even in the Franko Kingdom, there would be heretical cultist uprisings that were often lead by the Crimson Cult. As expected of a Chivalric Knight who belonged to the King’s Royal Knightage, Arielle played her part in quelling these uprisings whenever possible.
From an objective standpoint, the balance of powers should be in her favour. Yet despite that, she still felt a lingering sense of foreboding.
Soon after, she heard a knocking at her door, prompting her to call out towards whoever knocked.
“Who is it?”
“It is I, Sir Ian Magellan, my liege-lady.”
A familiar voice replied to her call, causing her to smile slightly. Hopefully, some good news had arrived.
“I have returned with the written report my liege-lady.”
Arielle only checked her appearance once on the reflection of one of the castle’s windows before she beckoned her lieutenant to enter.
“Come in.”
“As you wish.”
While still donning his full-plate armour, Ian entered the room with a small stack of paper in his hands before he made his way towards the balcony and joined her side. With that smile on her face, she questioned him.
“Anything interesting to report?”
However, his reply both disappointed and shocked her.
“In regards to our manhunt my liege-lady, we have nothing.”
“Nothing?”
Her sense of unease only multiplied when she heard Ian’s answer. Transmigrators were typically beings who possessed innately ‘superhuman’ abilities, that was why ‘heroes’ were often summoned from another world in times of dire crisis. Because of that, Arielle expected there to be at least one incident.
If there was no such incident then that must mean that the transmigrator was either hiding their abilities or possessed no such abilities. Neither meant anything good for Arielle. However, she could not allow that to discourage her now, with a solemn voice, she continued questioning Ian.
“Are there any news of note then?”
“Yes my liege-lady. There was one interesting incident during the recent months my liege-lady. However, the implications of this incident are rather… unsettling.”
She shrugged slightly as she replied with a tired voice.
“Any news is good news at this point.”
Unfortunately for her, that claim was instantly proven wrong when Ian responded.
“It relates to the Crimson Cult.”
