Thyvin was left in a state of bafflement when he watched the whole thing unfold. Although he was told beforehand by Walter about his plan contingency plans should anything go wrong, Thyvin still couldn’t believe how smoothly the whole ordeal went down.
The cowering rattmen prostrated themselves before Walter while the body of their leader, the so-called ‘Warlord of Clan Primis’ Rootek laid sprawled out on the floor. Part of the black-furred rattman’s head has turned into a pulpy red mess, with his left eye barely clinging onto his eye socket with a few strings of flesh.
In a literal flash, Rootek was taken down. Not with martial skills or magical mastery but with a combination of cunning trickery and technology. Just as Walter previously stated, he had a hidden ‘ace’ weapon which he obtained prior to this encounter that would allow him to deal with virtually anything the rattmen can throw at them. Naturally, Walter’s immortality contributed as well.
A few seconds later, the topic of Thyvin’s thoughts, Walter, called out to him.
“My lord, can you please help me out here?”
Walter made a gesture towards the sword still embedded in his stomach as he spoke.
“This hurts you know.”
“Ah yes.”
Help Walter pull the sword out.
Thyvin sent a mental command to some of his skeleton goblins while he responded to Walter. Coming to Walter’s aid, Thyvin watched his minions dislodge and remove the weapon from the immortal man’s body. According to Walter, unless his ‘sensory organs’ were destroyed, he would still suffer the pain of any injury.
Yet there he stood, not only ignoring the pain but also acting in such an indifferent and nonchalant manner.
“Damned Rat. Got blood on my suit.”
He first made a casual remark, seemingly to himself, before he said a single sentence to Thyvin.
“I believe that it’s your turn now.”
Thyvin felt a smile grow on his face as he nodded silently and moved towards Rootek’s corpse. While he was protected by his skeleton knights, he casted his trademark spell.
“[Raise dead]”
Rootek’s eyes glowed a dim purple light when Thyvin uttered those two words. The fingers of the rattman soon began to quiver violently as the undead creature stirred.
“Grrrggghhh”
With a groan, Rootek slowly stood back up, his movements stiff and awkward as he bent over to pick up his sword. Seeing their deceased warlord moving again, an expression which seemed to be confusion appeared on the rattmen’s face. However, it was near impossible for Thyvin to properly distinguish their facial expressions thanks to their heads being akin to that of rats.
But before long, after drinking a health potion, Walter cleared his throat once before he made a loud announcement towards the rattmen.
“Consider this a ‘test.’ Not just of your loyalty, but of your strength and conviction!”
Probably noticing that the rattmen were still confused, Walter continued.
“Prove your worth to me by slaying the undead body of your former warlord! Whoever proves themselves to be worthy will be promoted to a higher rank above befitting of them and they will be the first to be rewarded with food and luxuries!”
When Walter said that, Thyvin saw a sort of ‘glint’ in the rattmen’s beady eyes as their mouths twisted into crooked smiles. It was obvious that the idea of becoming the leader of their clan was very pleasing to each and every one of them. Prematurely, one rattman leaped out of the crowd with a dagger in hand before–
“Guehk!”
It made an awkward hoarse grunt when it was skewered by Rootek’s blade. A few seconds later, Walter seized the opportunity to announce something else while the zombie rattman removed the still squirming rattman from its blade in an awkward manner.
“Of course, a test can’t be counted as a test if it’s not challenging.”
“Gnahhhh!”
Another rattman screeched before it was joined by its kin.
“Gnnaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhh!”
The rattmen swarmed towards Rootek, their tactics similar to that of goblins. Unlike goblins however, their speed and agility were superior. They were more intelligent, the rattman on the forefront already learning from its predecessor's folly. It dodged Rootek's sword thrust and lunged onto the undead rattman, knocking him to the ground.
However, before that rattman can swing the killing blow–
“Krah!”
It was stabbed in the back by another rattman. With a knife stuck in its back, the original rattman was pushed to the side as the treacherous rattman moved in to steal the kill for himself–
“Kiek!”
Only to be betrayed by another rattman.
Soon enough, the ‘test’ dissolved into a chaotic brawl, rattmen slayed fellow rattmen as they scrambled to become one who received the ‘promotion.’ It was during that time when Walter took several steps backward from the battle and returned to Thyvin’s side, making a casual comment as he did so.
“Rattmen are feisty little things aren’t they?”
“It would seem so my lord.”
Thyvin replied to Walter’s casual comment with one of his own.
“It’s just a shame that you would rather prefer living rattmen over undead.”
“Well objectively speaking, they are more useful to us alive.”
Walter’s tone remained nonchalant as he replied.
“They’re aren’t like greenskins who can reproduce asexually via fungal pods. I doubt that we will be able to convince them to reproduce only to have their offspring slaughtered once they reach adulthood. Not forgetting to mention that they can’t utilise their ‘unique’ magic or take advantage of their stealth skills as undead.”
Everything that he said was true. As beings who had to rely on another’s magic in order to continue existing, undead cannot conjure magic of their own. Likewise, undead beings are virtually incapable of flawlessly executing stealth missions unless they are constantly micromanaged by their master. Thus, the two had to settle for the rattmen’s living counterpart instead.
With that in mind, Thyvin responded.
“I just can’t believe how successful your plan is, let alone the fact that we are relying on the infamous rattmen of all things.”
“Truth be told, I may have wanted the rattmen to attack me as odd as that sounds. It allowed me to test my of my immortality and it also allowed me to test how effective my newly arrived musket actually is.”
While casually watching the rattmen slaughter each other, Thyvin found himself engaged in some small talk with Walter whose mannerisms still remained calm and nonchalant when he spoke.
“Actually cost me quite a lot of gold franqs to get this thing, I even had to indirectly bribe the maid of the tavern I currently reside in.”
“You know, you could have just asked me for one. I still do have some influence in the city.”
Thyvin found that his voice sounded a bit irritated when he spoke.
“I could have easily ordered one from the gunsmith, it won’t even cost cost you single a bronze franq.”
“If you knew about the lengths I went to in order to obtain this musket then you wouldn’t have said such a foolish thing.”
Walter sighed as he replied.
“This isn’t some ameteur product crafted by the blacksmiths of the Franko Kingdom or any of its vassal kingdoms. It’s a finely crafted smoothbore wheellock musket pistol masterfully created by Krimean engineers. Your gunsmiths haven’t even come close to mastering the creation of matchlock muskets, the inferior predecessor of wheellocks.”
“Wait, Krimean engineers?! Does that mean that you obtained that musket from the Krimean Empire?!”
Thyvin couldn't help expressing his shock when he learnt that Walter’s prodigious musket pistol was of Krimean design. That was because of two reasons. The first reason was that the Krimean Empire was located on the other side of the continent, making it considerably harder to procure Krimean goods. The second reason was significantly more concerning.
And that was the fact that the Krimean Empire was the chief political rival of the Franko Kingdom, the kingdom which the Principality of Valha swore fealty to as a vassal. Yet despite that, Walter nevertheless responded in his typical nonchalant tone.
“Technically yes. I found it being sold at an auction during a ‘casual stroll’ at the blackmarket. To avoid any evidence being lead back to me, I paid Broker to buy the weapon through one of his contacts and then have it sent to me anonymously. It’s all rather complicated.”
He paused for a short moment, maybe to think to himself only for his eyes to be averted. With an elbow nudge, Walter spoke as he gestured to Thyvin to refocus his attention back onto the brawl.
“Someone interesting has just shown up.”
When Thyvin turned his attention towards the rattmen, he found that several dozens of them died while he and Walter conversed with each other. However, he quickly realised that, that was not what piqued Walter’s interest. More likely than not, it was the rattman which stood alone, facing off against the undead Rootek.
Unlike the other rattmen, this rattman not only possessed a less hunched back, but it was also surrounded by a light green haze that seemed to be emanating out of its body. The other rattmen snarled at the lone rattman but never actually moved closer to him. Instead they appeared to be avoiding this green haze, as if merely touching it would cause them horrible pain.
He immediately identified the green haze as the result of ‘plague magic,’ meaning that this rattman must be a magic caster, the so-called ‘plaguelock.’ With a hoarse and gravelly voice, the plaguelock shouted sharply at Rootek.
“W-waiting for this-this moment I-I have!”
With that proclamation, the plaguelock splayed open both of its hands and aimed it at Rootek before he casted a spell.
“[Plague Breath]!”
A jet of green gas shot out of the plagelock’s hand upon casting his spell, pushing Zootek back several feet. In awe, Thyvin witnessed the parts of Zootek’s skin which was exposed to the green gas molt gruesomely. Yet, that was all that it accomplished. After the initial setback, Rootek quickly regained his bearings and began to push back against the jets of green gas.
“Gnnahhhhhhhhh!”
The plaguelock’s reaction was to scream furiously, the green gas ejecting from its hands increasing in intensity when he did so. Regardless, it changed nothing. Slowly but steadily, Rootek slowly trudged his way closer to the plaguelock, he wasn’t even phased by his flesh literally melting off his body.
After all, he was still a zombie. Although he relied on his muscles to move, ‘superficial’ injuries such as the loss of skin meant nothing to him. If this ‘plague breath’ spell was the best that the plaguelock could muster, then the winner was already decided. Warriors, even as mindless zombies, typically held the advantage over magic casters in close quarters combat.
Thyvin knew that if this were to continue, then the plaguelock would surely be slain.
That was when another rattman jumped into the fray.
Without making a single sound, a rattman dropped from the ceiling and landed behind Rootek, using the undead rattman’s body to protect himself from the plaguelock’s vicious spell.
“Grrkkk!”
Before Rootek can even react, the new rattman swiftly ran his sword through Rootek’s head and thus piercing through his brain, instantly killing him. As the now truly dead Rootek collapsed, his killer quickly leaped out of the way to dodge the plaguelock’s plague breath.
“Looks like we have a winner.”
Walter appeared to be impressed when he let out a comment. Similarly, Thyvin was also impressed by the rattman’s show of skill. But before any of the two could congratulate the winner–
“S-scum-scum you are-are H-hasan! M-mine that kill-slay was!”
The plaguelock yelled at the rattman who was apparently named ‘Hasan.’ On the other hand, Hasan smirked at the plaguelock.
“Scum you say-speak? No-no, I am s-smart! Attack o-only when preoccupied!”
“P-pay for you insolence you-you will!”
The plaguelock aimed his hands at Hasan as he yelled.
“[Plagu–”
“Enough!”
Walter decisively cut off the plaguelock before he could use his plague magic on Hasan. Then he inquired about their names.
“Your full names, now.”
“Kyat Pestylen”
“Hasan Ashin”
The plaguelock and the ‘assassin’ rattman both bowed submissively as they told Walter their respective names. With a smile, Walter gave his final verdict.
“You will both be promoted. From this moment onwards, you two shall be known as Chief Plaguelock Kyat Pestylen and Chief Assassin Hasan Ashin. Serve me well.”
