TL: Edited 30/05/2017.
CH 9 – The battle against the Necromancer
A lower ranked necromancer was well versed in two different magic spells, Shadow Shroud and Debilitating Touch.
In the game, black magic was brought about by the Miirna race. They were servants of the Twilight Dragon, and lived in the icy plains of northern Kirrlutz a century before the Era of Chaos.
The Miirna shamans were well versed in Spirit and Dark Shamanic spells. These spells later on, along with all unnatural spells that affected the mind or attacked the body, were classified into black magic.
After the holy crusade, the King of Fire, Gatel, drove these citizens of darkness into the cold north, and it was said from then on no one ever saw them again.
But the Miirna definitely existed. In the Bible of Darkness, the black magic had been passed down to the Shadow Lords of Madara from these demonic race.
But to call Shadow Shroud as Black Magic was a little undeserving of the name. It was merely a type of magic to aid in concealment, and the spells used were able to cover the tracks of a small squad of undead troops.
The skeleton soldiers were not invisible or vanished into thin air, but a mere trick to hide them under dark shadows. It definitely did not make their sounds, scents or other sensory senses other than sight disappear. It was also limited to a certain radius.
During the dark night, these spells naturally became the best cover for Madara’s undead troops, and it was the main reason why Madara’s army had chosen to only move during the night time in history.
As for the Debilitating Touch, Freya and the other militia had already experienced this frightening black magic here.
This evil spell were necromancers’ primary means of attacking and relied on negative energy to invade the minds of the enemies. The stronger the negative emotions the enemies had, the weaker their wills were, and the more damage the spells would do.
Until they were dead.
Debilitating Touch was similar to various other black magic that relied on negative emotions to cause damage.
The necromancers with their cunning and deceptive nature, wielded these two mysterious magic spells and led skeleton soldiers which were stronger than humans without a fighting profession. It appeared as if they were enemies exceedingly difficult to defeat.
But Sophie knew their secret. Necromancers did not have the ability to cast magic. Its true source of power came from the bone staffs in their hands. The bone staff was a powerful magic artifact that belonged to its own individual owner, but once it left their hands it would become an ordinary stick.
With this knowledge at hand, Sophie prepared a strategy to defeat the necromancer.
Following the next defeated skeleton soldier under Sophie’s supervision, the strongest sword fighters, Freya and Irena marched towards the necromancer on both sides.
“Attack its hand! The Dark Shamanic spells are not as mystical as you think,” Sophie pointed out the undying monster’s weakness from behind: “Did you see its gesture? Hinder it from completing the spell and knock the bone staff out of its han—”
That necromancer abruptly raised its head and met Sophie’s eyes, the viridescent flames quivering in hatred. Sophie choked up, his throat drying up as though it was being burned. He knew that the necromancer was starting to focus on him, but he tried to shrug off the unnerving feeling quickly, as he knew it was impossible for the necromancer to bypass the militia and attack him.
Nevertheless, the terrifying chill from the creature’s gaze forced him to halt his instructions, and he waited for Freya and Irene to rob its concentration away.
The necromancer gave a ghastly laugh and shook the bone staff. Darkness covered it completely as if it was being submerged by a wave of water. When Irene’s long sword pierced into it, there was nothing but thin air. The necromancer had vanished at the very same spot.
“What?” The girl was stunned.
Sophie’s expression did not change at all; he was too familiar with what it can do: “To your left, Irene!”
She did not react to his voice in time.
But Freya who rushed over slashed through the air with her sword, a straight silver line that seemed to illuminate the area, and when it reached the place where Sophie had directed, the necromancer stumbled backward in dismay.
Everyone saw the shadow-like figure revealing itself after retreating.
“Human!!! Who are you! You are not part of the militia at all!” The screaming voice was a frenzied rage, and its expression appeared to be in utter agitation.
It was impossible for a militia to know this much, and part of what Sophie said only circulated amongst the Madara’s undead necromancers.
But Sophie kept his silence, and Freya’s sword followed up again. The green lights in the necromancer’s eye sockets danced wildly, it raised the bone staff to parry the sword in hatred.
A necromancer possessed 1.7 OZ worth of strength and Freya did not have a higher strength than Brendel, thus her attack was easily steered to one side, and she stumbled forward a few steps before she was able to stop. She subconsciously held against her left shoulder and grimaced.
The injury from the arrow earlier seemed to be reopened.
“Captain Freya, let Mackie attack it instead, your injury……” Irene shouted out as she defended against the necromancer.
Mackie and Fenris charged over to them.
“Fenris, I want you to back off!” But Freya cut off his path and shouted at the inexperienced brat with a fierce command.
“But I’m also a soldier!” The adolescent shouted in defiance.
“Back off, did you hear what I said!?”
Fenris’s face flushed red with fury but he did not dare to go against Freya’s order. She had always been the leader amongst them with a kind heart and resolution in her actions. Everyone was content with her as the leader.
Sophie shook his head in disapproval. The battlefield was not a place to have a squabble.
“The four of you are to attack the necromancer together.” He said simply.
“Mister Brendel, you—!” Freya was at a loss for words as she looked back furiously. The young Romaine stood beside the youth who was lying on the boulder. She looked at Freya innocently and blinked.
[This damn girl, she already defected to his side?!]
Freya fumed inwardly.
“A necromancer is a difficult enemy to deal with, and the four of you are just sufficient to cover each other’s backs.” Sophie answered in a serious manner.
“But little Fenris—”
“Is also part of the militia.”
Freya bit her lips. Mackie and Irene were steadily losing ground from the necromancer’s attack. If the undead creature found a chance to cast a spell, the squad would lose another member. It was something that she could not stand for. She nodded reluctantly as she thought through the possibility.
“Praise the Gods! Brendel, you’re too amazing!” Little Fenix cried triumphantly and readied his longsword immediately.
But Freya grabbed his cuff from behind and issued an order: “You are going to follow closely to me, and never go out of my sword arm’s radius. Do you understand?!”
“Oooh……” He replied with disappointment.
The situation was reversed when both Freya and little Fenix joined the battle. Irene and Freya were outstanding fighters in their militia batch, and surprisingly little Fenris was not any weaker. He was decisive and accurate with a strong inclination to attack, and unlike Aouine’s military swordsmanship which pursued balance in both offense and defense, his style seemed to resemble Kirrlutz’s aggressive sword techniques.
Sophie gave a high evaluation to him. If Fenris reached Brendel’s age, he would probably be as good as him at using the sword.
Sophie mused over the possibility where Brendel did not die. Even though he mocked him when he first came to this world, if Brendel continued to grow in the upcoming battles, he would have most likely become as brilliant as Freya. It was as if he was born to fight when he handled himself against the skeleton.
[Unfortunately, there was such a thing called fate, and there were no ‘ifs’ in history.]
The battle between the militia and the necromancer relied heavily on Sophie’s input. It was as though Sophie saw through every move of the necromancer, and even the smallest plan it had was pointed out.
What was the necromancer going to do?
Why was the necromancer moving right?
Was it preparing a spell?
When should it be interrupted?
The necromancer grew more and more appalled. The undead did not feel fear but the necromancer felt at a loss on how to respond. At the very end, it was screaming: “Who are you! An undead shaman! Or a black knight!”
The uttered sentences were exchanged for Freya’s unforgiving strike. The claw-like fingers that were gripping the bone staff flew up and it gave a shrill scream. The green fire in its sunken eye sockets dimmed like it was a candle flame in the winds.
The battle finally ended with Mackie’s orthodox strike with his sword. The necromancer had exhausted itself considerably before the loss of its hands and bone staff, and it wailed in frustration as the bright sword pierced through its skull.
Its Soul Fire exploded from its body.
It was the final counter attack from this creature, but Sophie had already warned them preemptively. Only Irene who was a little slow at evading had her right hand singed a little.
The final two skeleton soldiers that remained were destroyed by the rest of the militia. Only one of the militia was wounded from the skeleton soldiers, and the forest was finally restored to its former peace. The wind blew across the forest, causing the leaves to rustle gently.
Everyone stopped and looked at each other. Their faces were full of disbelief, including Freya. They actually won against a necromancer and four skeleton soldiers.
Mackie’s sword was the first fall onto the floor with a clang, and it set off a chain reaction. Everyone hugged each other together, shouting and yelling, and even some of them cried out loudly to vent their emotions. The merchant girl also seemed to be relieved.
To survive such an ordeal made their feelings ran high.
But Sophie was unperturbed. He raised his head and saw three golden lights flew into his chest from the darkness. Nobody seemed to notice this, even Romaine who was beside him.
[Hmmm. I’m the only one who can see it?]
Sophie felt a little puzzled.
He glanced at his surroundings once and opened his character window at the same time without thinking. He did the same things like he did in ‘The Amber Sword’, opening his character window once a battle was over.
The green lines of data appeared immediately in his retina.
Strength 1.1, Agility 2.0 , Physique 1.0 Intelligence 1.1, Will 1.3, Perception 1.0
Overall power rating 3.5, Element (Sealed)
Brendel, Male Human, Level 1 (Strength type body: Physical, Close combat; Talent: Unyielding)
XP: 4 (Commoner level 1 ———, Civilian Soldier level 2, 6/10)
Health (Weakened, dying): 10% (Bandaged status, 1 HP will be recovered every day)
Skills (Empty slot skill 1 XP)
Commoner [Basic knowledge (Level 1), Geography Knowledge (Level 0), Local knowledge (Level 1)]
Civilian Soldier [Military Swordsmanship (Level 1), Grappling techniques (Level 1), Tactical Theory (Level 0), Military Organization (Level 0)]
He noted the change from his strength and physique. This meant he received the increase from the ‘Civilian soldier’ profession.
The Overall Power Rating increased by 2.5. The Ring of the Wind Empress granted a 1.0 increase in agility, and the rest of the increase came from his corresponding stats from his militia profession.
He had gained 4 XP from four skeleton soldiers and one necromancer. It was half of what he should have received. Sophie thought for a while before concluding it as a ‘Team penalty’.
[This is total bullshit! Why the heck would there be something like this in reality?]
He made snide remarks in his mind but felt it was pointless after a while. Compared to the fact that he teleported to a parallel world, it was even more ridiculous.
[It’s good that my suspension of disbelief is amazing…..] He rubbed his forehead as he felt a little headache.
Sophie stared at the ‘Civilian soldier’ level and hesitated. He truthfully did not want to invest experience points in this profession. The profession was pretty much garbage to him, and he had always viewed it a NPC-only profession.
Now in this life here, he could not have thought that he would actually spend experience points on it.
[I even chose the talent point Unyielding! There are so many talents for a Warrior, and I picked one of the worst talents. And I’m stuck with a trash profession.]
It was a skill that allowed him to be immune from fatal wounds, but he only had five minutes to act on, unless he received a healing spell powerful enough to restore him. He also had not seen any restoratives even though it was so plentiful in the game.
But he did not waste too much time regretting as it did save his life.
He was unable to find another profession right now and yet he urgently required more power to survive through the war. He had no choice but to continue walking down this damnable path of the profession ‘Civilian soldier’. He felt depressed for a while.
He was musing over his character screen when he stood up suddenly.
[Aouine. This is a doomed kingdom within the game, and in Brendel’s memory, this is the ‘Year of Bustling Summer Leaves and Flowers’. This is the first year in the game’s opening. I have knowledge of the future. I was able to prevent the militia from getting killed with my leadership. I….. might be able to change this kingdom’s fate.]
His body trembled when he realized this fact. Indeed, no one was more familiar with what was going to happen in this world. As one who did not succeed in doing well in his past life and escaped reality by hiding in the gaming world, what was he going to do in this world to make up for it?
He stared blankly at the virtual data reflected on his retinas and could not help but ask himself:
[Isn’t this a world you’re hoping for? To save Aouine from tragedy?]