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Chapter 71 - Overpowered, SC
🕑 Added 2024-06-18 22:01:45 +0000 UTC“Have you never ridden a horse before?” Elora asked with curiosity that bordered on being insulting. The innocent tone of the questions was enough to stop Sunday from exploding, but it still annoyed him.
Yet another of the horses similar to the ones he had admired outside of Blumwin that first day was beneath him, waiting for an opportunity to turn a shit day into a very shit day. His dreams of being a spell-slinging cowboy were finally dead, and with them went his admiration for the beautiful animals.
“This is my second time.”
“I made sure to ask for a horse used to undead. It’s weird you’re having trouble. They’re usually very well trained.”
Yeah, I guess horses fucking hate me then. “Might be me being too awesome for it.”
“Don’t flatter yourself. Blumwin doesn’t offer much better than what you’re riding right now.”
I beg to differ.
“This,” Elora continued oblivious to Sunday’s grimace, “is a purebred stallion that has been trained to accommodate all sorts of undead since it had been two weeks old. To hire one of them typically costs two gold pieces a day, and is a privilege rarely given to even the richest.”
The reveal of the price almost made Sunday fall from the saddle. The ones he and Vyn had gotten the first time were many times cheaper than that. He didn’t see much difference, apart from the size and the fact that this one was just a tiny bit less of an asshole. Such a small improvement hardly justified the prize.
I knew Elora was hiding some major craziness deep down. I was too poor to meet one, but even I knew never to mess with a horse girl.
“That’s daylight robbery,” Sunday grumbled.
“Race you to the gates!” Elora laughed and suddenly spurred her beast toward the large iron gates that had become visible in the distance.
Thankfully the task she had picked was very close to Blumwin. One of the Manors was suffering from a ghoul infestation and the poor owners were having trouble riding their horses at sundown to have a picnic at the edge of their lands, or whatever it was that rich bastards did when they owned a whole plot of land housing rolling hills and an actual forest.
A man greeted Elora at the gates with a bow. A small building of white stone and wood sat behind the walls of the land, looking better than some of the houses in Blumwin. Sunday decided to take no risks and Elora and the gatekeeper were forced to wait for him while his horse slowly trotted up to them.
And then passed them without stopping.
He heard Elora mutter an apology and smirked as she hurried her horse up to catch up.
“You should learn some manners. The fact that he’s a servant does not mean he doesn’t deserve some respect,” she admonished, making Sunday turn sharply in her direction and then quickly clamp down on the horse's neck with both hands. Damned beast.
“You think that’s why I didn’t stop? Have you not noticed that this thing is refusing to stop unless I fall off?”
Elora stared at him, then laughed even louder than before, making herself snort. It contrasted quite sharply with the way she looked and carried herself, and echoed like the sound of a guillotine descending on Sunday’s ego. He had to admit there was humor in the whole situation, but he still couldn’t understand what the thing’s deal was.
Nevertheless, the large manor they were to rescue from the menace that crazed wild ghouls presented sprawled before them, a short fifteen-minute ride from the first gate. Sunday wondered who would live in such a remote place, especially in a world where anyone could just go crazy and get supernatural powers by praying a little. It was either someone very sure of the power of money or someone not simple. Perhaps a very strong undead, or an ancient vampire?
“You’re about to meet one of the best brewers of Blumwin. I know him well since he often works with my mom. A nice man, but he’s also quite stingy. I’ll get us some bonus pay though, don’t worry about that.” Elora said making Sunday balk at her.
“What does your mom do?” he asked.
“You don’t know?”
“I know Zihei calls you lady, but then again, he’s completely insane so I decided it might be just a strange quirk of his. You don’t strike me as a lady.”
Elora beamed, “Thanks, I’ve been trying.”
You have? Goddamn silverspoon.
“That’s quite surprising though, I figured you know who I am and that’s why you cozied up to me so fast,” Elora muttered.
“No, I just liked you for your spells and I want to see what you can do when you’re not playing around.” And you still haven’t answered my question.
“Not that much as of now. I shouldn’t have trouble with hordes of ghouls, but I specialize in one-on-one combat. I’m fast, and I can disable nerves as you saw. My third spell is pretty essence intense…” she stopped, then looked nervously toward Sunday.
“I have three spells as well, don’t worry.” I wonder if it’s a rare thing. I don’t know how many Zihei has but he might be stuck at his current level, considering that he had decided to spend his time writing romance. Arten had only two slots. The difference of even one spell slot is quite significant when it comes to a thing such as spells.
Elora nodded. “It’s good for you to know what I can do, and I know your secret. Consider this making us even. My third spell reinforces my body, making it harder and stronger. I don’t think ghouls can even go through my skin.”
Such a naïve girl, telling me all of that. That’s a good spell though. Still, she’s focusing too much on close combat. At least she has a path she likes. What the hell am I even doing? I need to test the Vision of the Berserk Moon during this opportunity. I can’t wait to run into those ghouls. Accepting the task rather than closing himself in the practice rooms had been for that purpose alone.
“Why are you grinning like you’re about to stab someone in the kidney?” Elora asked.
“Am I?”
“It’s quite unnerving. Stop it.”
“Get used to it.”
They reached the front of the manor and Sunday carefully dismounted. The relief almost made him want to dance, but his legs were somewhat unstable so he refrained from that. The journey toward the ghoul lair would be done on foot, since for all their faults, horses were not keen on ghouls. One thing Sunday could find in common with them.
It took only a minute for a whole entourage of servants to exit the manor and stand in a neat row, awaiting the orders of a short and quite chubby man with a wide smile. He beelined for Elora with spread arms and tried to awkwardly help her off her horse. He was dressed in a pristine white suit in a fashion Sunday hadn’t seen before. It didn’t do him many favors.
“Young Elora, it’s so good to see you! I thought it might be you coming since your mother told me you’re trying to prove yourself to the Arcanum and rise through its ranks. How wonderful for your family to produce such an aspiring young mage! I can only hope for my son to follow in your footsteps soon. It still pains me that you rejected his proposal. And this… who might this be? Your servant perhaps?” the chubby man said it all in one breath, without pause. His eyes were gleaming with curiosity and his eyes studied Sunday closely. If he noticed something, there was no indication.
“Hi, Uncle Hurind. This is Sunday, and he’s a fellow mage. He’ll be helping me with the issue you’re having, since going along seems unwise after the many strange reports lately.” Elora responded, sounding prim and proper.
“Ah,” the chubby man nodded sagely, “I apologize, Mr. Sunday. My name is Hurind Yunvies, but surely you know that already. I should’ve known the Arcanum has the foresight to ensure the safety of its most valued recruit. Please, allow me to treat you to a refreshing lunch before you solve the problem.”
Sunday stepped up and plastered a smile on his face. “That is most gracious of you, Mr. Yunvies, but we should make use of daylight. The problem might not be as simple as we hope it will be, so any advantage is important.”
“Truly? I’ve heard from friends that some villages and caravans have also suffered. Ghouls are such weak things, but their large number can challenge almost anyone.”
“Don’t you have a mage on retainer, Uncle Hurind?” Elora said.
A mage on retainer? What the fuck? Is he just paying some guy to stand around?
“Yes, yes. Sotu is quite the talented one, but he’s responsible for the safety of the manor. Lately, he’s been spending more and more time in the room I built for him, trying to take another step. Two more and he might have a shot at becoming an Adept! Wouldn’t that be marvelous? Blumwin could use some more strong magi in its ranks, but I could never do it. All that sitting around with one's own thoughts… I much prefer drinking wine and eating delicious foods, don’t you agree Sunday?”
Why are you asking me, bastard? I can’t fucking eat, I’m undead! Sunday only smiled politely and made sure to note the transgression. If banditry ever became a consideration, Hurind Yunvies would be one of the first victims.
“It is as you say, Uncle,” Elora nodded. “Shall we go?”
The old man only stayed with them for a few more minutes, finding the long walk around the manor too long for comfort. The rest of the way they were given the details by a polite servant, who seemed as terrified of offending them as Sunday was growing of horses.
The forest behind the manor was just that. A massive forest that connected to the rest of the infinite sea of trees. It made no sense to Sunday how one could just claim the land as a part of their manor, but it was a large and weird world, and the rich were apparently not that out of fashion despite the presence of magic.
And once again into the forest, I go.
It didn’t take them long to find traces of the ghouls once they were left to do as they pleased. Broken bark and branches marked the trees, and Sunday felt something strange at the back of his mind as they went deeper. It was almost as if he could sense a familiarity inside the forest, which was a strange thought. Hopefully, the ghost of Jishu was not hiding behind some bush waiting to jump out, because the old bastard would be getting thoroughly melted this time around.
The shadier the forest became, the stronger the feeling Sunday had got, until finally, they saw the first group. It had taken only thirty or so minutes on foot through the foliage to find them, which didn’t bode well. Ghouls being so brave or desperate was a rare occurrence according to Sunday’s favorite bedtime reading material. They were secretive things that liked to swarm their prey and take it away. They also didn’t like direct sunlight, although it did little to weaken them.
Sunday felt Elora tense at the sight of the mounds, and then followed her actions with curiosity as she started to take her cloak off, before gently folding it. Her leather clothes were simpler this time around and covered most of her body well. The material looked thick enough to withstand the anger of the ghouls for a time.
To their credit, the ghouls didn’t pretend they hadn’t been caught by surprise and more and more quickly swarmed out of the mounds of dirt they so much liked. They looked almost sleepy, which was a silly notion since ghouls didn’t really sleep. They faked it. The group was quite large, but after his previous experience, Sunday didn’t feel even a tinge of worry.
“Can I try something before you go crazy?” Sunday asked. He was dying of curiosity.
Elora looked at him with a raised eyebrow then nodded. She seemed oddly nervous, despite her big talk from earlier. Is this her first fight against them? No matter.
Essence started pouring out and a red circle broke apart reality and grew wider between Sunday’s palms. It was not necessary to do it this way, but it certainly felt cool. Then as it was as big as a large plate, six white-red moths crawled out of it. They flew in the air around them and Elora watched them with wonder.
Some of the ghouls hissed and stepped back, but still stood their ground. They were just like the ones he had encountered together with Vyn – malnourished and falling apart.
Elora didn’t seem to recoil from the presence of the moths, but she also didn’t look as pleased as humans typically got when faced with the potent life essence radiating from the spell. It does look more contained. Oh well, here goes nothing.
The moths shot out like homing missiles and the world devolved into chaos as sizzling dark flesh and screams filled the surroundings. Both Sunday and Elora watched the moths fly like enraged birds around the ghouls, tearing holes through them, almost as if they were biting off chunks of the flesh. Through it all the white glow tinted with red only grew stronger and Sunday could feel his control over the spell grow weaker.
It was an intoxicating feeling despite it all and made him feel truly powerful. The moths tore through the tens of ghouls as if they were soft paper. The life essence melted their flesh together and their mouths shut, and burned out their eyes. The screams were horrific.
It was a minute later that Sunday finally felt himself lose control of the spell. He tried to hold on but the moths were too bloodthirsty, and some part of him truly wanted them to fly free and bring wreckage to the world.
His moths were not simply a spell manifest anymore, but bloodthirsty monsters in their own right. A small smile played on his mouth. This was proper magic.
Soon, there were no more ghouls left. Few had managed to escape the slaughter, but that didn’t matter at all to him. The moths flew in a circle a few times and then seemed to slow down and gravitate back toward Sunday. They were not white marred with red anymore, but blood red with a few white strips on them, and the glow of life was replaced by something else. Something new.
This… is bad. Are they going to turn on us?
Sunday’s eyes widened as the Vision of the Berserk Moon opened before him, larger than before. It hadn’t needed any essence which meant this still counted as part of the first cast. The moths flew inside of it before the connection fully cut off. Then, the red moon – or the portal – disappeared too as if it had never been.
And then Sunday felt the tiniest sliver of essence enter his soul space, and become one with the rest. It was not enough to matter, but it still made him both confused and excited. This spell was simply broken.
Comments
Rylie Harris
tftc!
Markel Creek
Op
