Battleforged
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Chapter 353 - Long Term Employment
🕑 Added 2023-10-09 03:59:01 +0000 UTCEric turned to face the obvious commander of the artillery unit. “Excuse me?”
Mory flashed an anxious smile. “We all heard your offer, your exceedingly generous offer to that foolish captain and his headstrong crew. Didn’t we boys?” His voice carried loud enough for his entire shell-shocked crew to immediately nod in instant understanding.
“That’s right, Mort,” declared one gruff voice. “The chance to settle on a ripely ascending world still enjoying its first bloom, under the care of a Contender so fucking powerful that he pulled limitless dungeons out of causality’s derrier? Hell yes! We’ll advance ten times faster than we otherwise would, even if we’ll be buying up some Dwarven double shots and brushing up on our melee skills. Right, captain?”
“Damn right we will!” Mory concurred with a grin, eyes twinkling. “And if you’re serious about it being Wealthy tier...”
“You know it!” Eric assured as he took a moment to use Blood Mastery to clean his armaments to a perfect mithril sheen once more, pretending it wasn’t making the man before him pale and flinch. “Wealthy tier delving with only a 20% cut to the house! That’s me,” Eric said with a smile. “But if you don’t think that’s still the steal of a lifetime…”
“Oh we do,” Mory quickly assured with a tight smile. “We’re getting native-born rights!”
Eric nodded. “And you know what? As long as you’re in active service to me or my family, ZERO taxes for you boys. Last 20% you will have over and above everyone else doing my delves. And after lets say what, ten years of service where you all still get to rotate the delves when we’re not in active war? You can retire and set yourselves up for sweet living in a Blue Corp controlled territory with ALL the amenities! Were talking parks and villas and swimming pools, day spas and boutique shopping! It will be like living in a beautiful magitec city complete with all the parks and shopping centers and daycare centers and elite schools you want! Or at least that’s my plan,” he finished with a sheepish smile. “Just as soon as things calm down a bit here.”
Mory exchanged a desperate smile with his wife. “What do you think, babe?”
Yini swallowed, forcing herself to meet the eyes of the half-mad contender radiating such monstrous strength.
“Assuming he’s not going to force us to trailblaze in unknown territory and risk our lives in a single bad gambit… I’m in. And if he’s really wise, he’ll take counsel from strategists who know how to use artillery to best effect. Safely fortified with an eagle eye on their targets where we can do the most damage without you losing your investment any time soon.”
Eric’s grin turned genuine, madcap persona fading completely away.
“Yini, that sounds more than fair to me. For what it’s worth, I primarily want you guys defending territories with an excellent line of sight on any possible enemy, and I’m more than happy to see about securing whatever earthworks or embankments that will help you guys and give our enemies a very bad time.”
Yini chuckled. “Let me guess. You’re going to want us to fortify the very palace we were bombarding?”
Eric shrugged. “Pretty much, yeah. So, do we have a deal?”
Yini exchanged a look with her husband. Eric was no fool. Beneath their lighthearted banter, Eric could sense all too well the overwhelming fear they felt at his presence, as if he were a fearsome dragon an eye-blink away from consuming them. Eric was just glad he wasn’t being pulled into their desperate panicked thoughts now that he had broken eye contact, knowing he was a fool to feel such piercing empathy for people he needed to be ready to kill in the blink of an eye, should negotiations sour.
And the flinch the couple shared made it clear that he wasn’t the only one reading a bit deep.
As one they bowed their heads. “We accept your contract.” Mory’s smile turned strained. “Regrettably, we have no access to a Magister who can measure our oathbinding and assure we pay a steep penalty for breaking it.” He swallowed nervously. “I hope this won’t be a problem.”
Eric gave a magnanimous wave. “Don’t worry, no Magister needed!”
He held up one finger now naked of armor and primed with a drop of his blood. “You’ll simply be making your oath with me.” His smile hardened as he gazed over the entire artillery company, allowing his own potency to flare for a single heartbeat.
“All of you will. I assume that won’t be a problem?”
Eric pretended he didn’t see the twinge of fear in so many pairs of eyes before their leader quickly jerked a nod.
“No problem at all.”
“Excellent. Hold still, and don’t worry, Yini. Your husband’s cry won’t be from my marking his flesh. It will only appear to be the tiniest of tattoos.”
Yini swallowed. “Alright, bossman, fair enough. So why are you telling me this?”
“Because he’ll feel it in his soul.”
And before a wide-eyed Yini could say a word in protest, Eric’s finger was upon Mory’s brow. And if his scream sounded like that of a man shrieking in purgatory, only a few dared whisper it loud enough for Eric to overhear, and his hearing was damned good.
“I’m fine, guys!” Mory quickly assured once he had a second to catch his breath, despite the look of unmitigated terror in his eyes.
And that, plus the terrible quickness of the smiling monster in their midst who was somehow right NEXT to the loudest of those murmuring their misgivings, one hand tapping the hilt of his mithril blade while Eric’s eyes twinkled with excitement and his words promised paradise kept the murmurs from getting any louder.
Still, Eric thought it best to remind his near panicked artillery regiment of the sweet honey to go along with the vinegar they could expect, if they ever dared to cross him.
“Just think of it, friends! This time next year, I’m betting that you’ll all be over level fifty with a million of credits to your name, thanks to having access to not one but a DOZEN Wealthy tier ENDLESS DELVES! You’ll be set for life and rapid advancement as you make your home on an Ascending world with all the Blue Corp toys that any up-and-coming adventurer, or artillery specialist, could want for his future wife and kids.” Eric’s smile widened. “You do want that future for yourself and your girl, don’t you, Wilhelm?”
The man before Eric flinched and paled. “How the fuck do you know my…” He froze at the furious whisper his panicked-looking partner was giving him, before blanching and giving Eric a strained smile. “I mean yeah… hell yeah! Let’s take that oath and get that ten-fold experience gain!”
Eric smirked. “Right on. Exactly what I’m talking about.” And with a touch that only caused momentary agony from chains that bit cruelly before numbing to cool inert docility, it was done.
“There, not that bad. Right, Wilhelm?”
The man trembled for just a second, before flashing a nervous smile. “No. It… hell, it just stung for a moment. Now, I don’t hardly feel a thing!”
“Good. And I hear new friends coming to join the party, so let’s get this show on the road!”
And within seconds, it was done.
CONGRATULATIONS! You have successfully forged a binding oath with 47 Advanced Classer Gunners between levels 28-30! Upon your supplicants’ death, their spirits will be under your permanent control!
But you’ve told them all not to worry.
An honorable bargain has been forged. (Which means that they will never be able to remove their binding oath or resist your future compulsions, should they break it!)
So long as your new artillery regiment actively obeys your (non suicidal) commands for the next ten years and never moves against you or your clan, they will be free to enjoy all the adventure that Terra has to offer with tax free profit in Ashland, and their souls will be free to pass on without hearing your call!
“So, how are we all feeling?”
Mory gazed at Eric for long moments, refusing to mince words. “I think I just got the same interface message you did.”
Eric’s smile hardened but it didn’t waver. Even when he sensed cautious relief turn to despair.
“He bound our souls. He bound our souls!” One young gunner whimpered, before being hushed by the girl next to him.
“Shut the fuck up, Lancy. He can hear you!”
Eric nodded his head, gaze turning solemn. “You’re right. You see, that’s the benefit of a necromancer class. You’re not my slave. You can do what you want. But if you fuck me over, there will be consequences. Not right away, but if you ever dreamed of hell…” He gave a cold laugh. “Believe me, those goddamned goblins were a fucking inspiration! If you think they can torment a soul…”
He quickly tuned the savage persona down, seeing the horror on so many pairs of eyes. “Anyway, that doesn’t matter. Because I know you’re not going to fuck me over, and I’m a man of my word. You treat me right, I treat you right! And when we all eventually leave the mortal coil, I’ll wish you all god’s speed on your journey to the next life.”
He then tried for a knowing wink, a confidential grin. “Heck, you might just find me to be the best friend you ever had! The power that you most definitely DO want to keep in the good graces of, and I’ll tell you why. If you ask me nicely and you’ve been stand-up for our time working together, I can even give you paradise for your hereafter, allowing you to savor the most magnificent wonderful dreams you ever just wished you could lose yourself in, for eternity. If you had any doubts about what to expect once you pass on, because of your checkered pasts and such, I’ll give you that golden parachute out of a very uncertain afterlife.”
“And if we kill you?”
A harsh, desperate voice.
A coolly smiling Eric slowly turned to the wild-eyed Lancy, and the girl holding him tight, gazing at Eric with wide, frightened eyes.
“Please don’t kill him. Please!”
Eric swallowed the sudden lump in his throat, before laughing and shrugging off the threat.
“Great question, Lancy! I’m glad you asked. In case your skulls are exceptionally thick, or you’re just not used to it because of your own culture’s taboos… I’M A FUCKING NECROMANCER! MY MENTOR’S A LICH! YOU THINK I’M STRONG NOW? JUST WAIT TIL I’M DEAD!”
He gave a cold chuckle. “For you, its a ticket to purgatory. For me? It’s just the next step in my journey. And if you think I can mess with your souls here...JUST IMAGINE WHAT I CAN DO IF YOU FUCK ME OVER AND I’M WAITING FOR YOUR ASS OVER THERE!”
He then laughed off the terror he saw on nearly all their faces. “But don’t take my word for it, even though I know you can all feel my mark with every beat of your heart. Let’s just ask our friends!”
Eric then turned, eyes flashing with a wicked warmth as he gazed back at the fifty mangled corpses he had slaughtered so fucking easily and embraced skills he had held back for far too long.
“Surge Centuria! Imperator Imperat Tibi!”
The words echoed endlessly through the camp, their corner strangely absent even a single panicked straggler, no matter that hundreds, soon to be thousands, gathered by the gate, just two football fields away. Instead of the bustle of people there was the twist and shriek of metal as mangled bodies twisted and popped back into pristine configuration, ropy tendrils of blood and sinew lashing onto decapitated heads to pull them on tight once more as 50 Sarissophoroi erupted from the shells of twisted vessels of flesh and steel. They emerged like brilliant bronze colored flowers bursting forth from flesh, ash, and corroding metal that crumbled to dust before the glorious display of pristine Bronze armor of ancient design covered in bright essence runes of Dominion and Resilience, worn by a full platoon of perfectly proportioned men who were the ideal of Grecian grace, strength, and beauty, hardly looking undead at all.
Each of them slammed fist to bronze chest plate with their right hand, while their left braced a 25 foot tall sandalwood spear pointing ramrod straight to the heavens.
“Ave Imperator Abedimus!” They roared in unison.
The air was filled with the curses of Eric’s now life-sworn artillery company gazing at him with an odd mixture of awe and unmistakable fear.
Yini went for a laugh. “I don’t normally say this on the first date, but I got a good feeling about you, Necromancer! If your risen friends can keep our foes off our backs, we’ll have no problem blowing your enemies to smitherines.”
Eric winked. “That’s the plan, Yini. So, how many artillery shells does your class allow you to generate per day?”
“Three, one per every ten levels, in addition to our considerable stores.”
“Excellent,” Eric said with a perfectly innocent smile, as if he hadn’t been fishing for choice Classer intel, and Yini was perfectly happy to go along with the fiction that she’d simply been eager to please, and not terrified for her life, giving away what a few mumbles indicated were class secrets.
“The more I know, the safer I can keep you all,” Eric calmly said, earning flinches from those who perhaps thought he couldn’t hear them, with a response that was reasonable and perfectly logical. The response of a commander concerned for the well being of his men.
He frowned thoughtfully at the crackling gate on the other side of the camp, from which hundreds, soon to be thousands, of enemy soldiers were still rapidly pouring through.
“Now we just have to figure out what we’re going to do about that.”
Comments
Goldfish2
Kill em all and raise an undead army!
Silver Beard
That whole mini-arc was difficult to digest. Happy she's elsewhere atm. Though- if he's going to party up; that's the kind of talent he'll need; esp in NY.
Silver Beard
Doesn't need big, just persistent. Though he's likely killing more mercs he could take over.
Iain Grubb
Who has the Ring for storing them all? Bunbun?
RedThyra
Make a bigger battlefield so Eric can replace his legions!
