A wise man once said: "In a wise man, routine is the mark of ambition."
If that's the case, Walter Tye is the world's most ambitious undead. Unless interrupted or overseeing a crossroads deal like tonight's, the Necromancer's schedule is tight.
He opens his magic items shop an hour before sunrise, although he mostly deals with his vendors before welcoming customers at dawn. The morning is the busiest time of the day, as adventurers buy supplies and then tackle dungeons in the afternoon. The pressure continued until around two in the afternoon, after which customers became very scarce, allowing Tye to focus on more unique tasks, such as helping the blacksmiths' guild create magic weapons, providing apothecary services to his community, or just hunting for hard-to-find Material.
Since he didn't need to eat mortal food or drink, Tai always lied about eating only once in the evening because he was so busy at work; since he carefully cultivated his reputation as a workaholic, no one suspected the truth. When night fell, he closed the shop and often went to the tavern to play "board and conquer" games; more to satisfy his gaming addiction.
While most everyone went to bed, the necromancer returned to work in his secret laboratory after touring the dungeons and overseeing the progress of Blackroot's excavation. He will emerge from his den at dawn and repeat the cycle.
Walter Tye was a mask that the necromancer had cultivated for two years, like a wallflower. He is part of the landscape. No one noticed him because to everyone he was always there.
Let him be free to take root deep in the ground
In the afternoon, Tay walked the busy streets of Lyon, between the fortifications and the temple area. He held a basket full of medicine and nodded politely to the townspeople he knew.
"If you go out on the night of the last day of the month, the Ankou people will come and take away your soul."
Ty paused and glanced at the three kids playing dice on the street corner. "This is so stupid," one child said.
"It's true!" protested a brown-haired child whom Tai recognized as Emir, the eldest son of the leader of the craftsmen's guild. "First you hear a wail, and then the sound of an approaching carriage." That was Ankou's carriage, carrying the dead people of that year to Helheim. If you run away from it for one night, you'll live another year, no matter what; but if he catches you, you'll be dead the next morning and so will your family!"
"That doesn't make sense," the girl said, laughing. "Mother said if you don't worship any gods and die without fighting, you'll have to go to Helheim!"
"Well, your mother doesn't know anything. If Ankou catches you, you go to Helheim."
Even though Tai hadn't been hunting sacrifices in Lyonesse for a year, and only fed on troublemakers that no one missed at the time, the rumors persisted. This makes walking around the countryside more difficult, as adventurers often seek out "death carriages" to kill their riders. Thankfully, if the kids are any indication, most people are still misinformed.
Sending people to that dreary, gloomy Helheim was the last thing Tai wanted to do.
Thinking of this, his eyes turned to the huge, distant trunk of the World Tree on the horizon, which rose from the ground and stretched into the sky. It is the source of all life and the source of the system that governs the nine realms.
According to most scholars, the kingdom of Midgard is flat, a vast continent surrounded by water and the primordial snakes from which it takes its name. But Midgard is just one world among many, connected by the Cosmic Tree.
Its roots involve three worlds: the ever-burning Muspelheim, run by the world's enemy Fi
e
g
t
Dominion; Niflheim, a cold hell inhabited by demons; dark Helheim, the place of the "worthless dead."
At the same time, the branches touched five other worlds. Svartalfheim, the kingdom of dwarves and dark elves, always at war; Jotu, the land of giants
heim; Alfheim, a world of light elves and fairies; Vanaheim, the chaotic and desolate home of the Vanir gods; and finally Asgard, the supreme world of the civilized Aesil gods.
Only recently was a tenth world discovered, one undiscovered by Yggd
The world asil touches: the mysterious earth from which the gods summon "heroes". This process baffles necromancers like Tai who try to master the cycle of souls.
Well, he had plenty of time; or at least until it was destined to end.
After walking a short distance, the Necromancer came to the temple area. The lion's share was given to Odin's cathedral, which was more of a fortress than a church, but each god had his own place of worship separated by canals; even Hel, the terrifying goddess of the underworld, had A land where criminals, traitors and exiles were buried. The bodies of respectable citizens were cremated.
The Balde Church is the god of beauty, art and light. Although not as impressive as the Holy Father's Cathedral, its beautiful architecture is indeed eye-catching. It is a small prismatic pyramid that seems to be made of crystal. , the door is silver. In fact, as the city's patron saint, his church dominated Lyon's politics; his priests were also wise enough not to make too much of a fuss. Soft power at its finest.
Ty walked inside and found himself walking past exhibition rooms displaying vivid paintings of ancient battles, marble statues of heroes, and other wonders created by the greatest artists of the Kingdom of Avalon.
He discovered that Yseult Whiteha, Balder's curator and priestess,
d) Painting in one of the rooms. Often said to be the most beautiful woman in Lyon, she was once the incarnation of the goddess, a beautiful maiden who seemed to be carved from silver, with platinum hair and sapphire eyes. Her plain white silk dress revealed only her perfect features, a face that men would fight over to death.
But even with his treatment, her illness left its mark. She began to lose hair, revealing a thin skull underneath; and although she hid it well through careful dressing, she had lost weight. However, even if weakened, an angel is still an angel.
"Welcome, my friend," she said to him with a kind smile. "You're late. I was wondering if you got into trouble on your way here."
"Sorry, I'm busy dismembering a chicken tonight," Tai said.
"Can't he run fast enough?" she giggled.
"No, he didn't," Ty said, a knowing smile on his face. "Ma'am, how are you feeling?"
"Better than yesterday." "I don't lose hair anymore."
"Good. It means your body is adapting to the treatment." The Earthlings called her disease "cancer," and from what Tai gathered, they couldn't cure it either. Most [Cure Disease] or [Purify] spells remove foreign matter, such as viruses or bacteria that have not yet developed resistance to magic; but they have little effect when the disease comes from the body's own life force.
If the kingdom hadn't declared this magic school illegal, Tai himself would have used [Blood Magic] to permanently cure everything about that woman. Since other spellcasters could recognize the traces of his spellcasting, the Necromancer turned to alchemical healing. He knew there was an alchemical drink called the Panacea that could cure all diseases, but the ingredients he needed he couldn't yet obtain. So he could only give his patients less effective elixirs.
The necromancer treated the woman partly out of gratitude for helping him settle in Lyon when he first arrived, mostly for his research. In his quest to find the ultimate cure for death, Tai must learn about life. The results could help him achieve a breakthrough if he can cure a disease caused by the uncontrolled growth of life itself.
Tai glanced at the painting, which showed a handsome, young knight with chestnut hair and noble eyes. His armor seemed to be woven from flowers, and he had a harp beside his sword. "Is this the famous Tristan?"
"He will come to see me this summer," the girl smiled happily. "After the induction ceremony into the Royal Order of Knights."
The most powerful and highest-ranking warriors in the kingdom; although not all are knights, or even knights. Ty wanted to know where this ranked on the scale. "I'm almost done with your landscape painting," Joseph said to him. "I will deliver it to your house before the full moon."
"Take your time," Tai said, and then his keen hearing caught the sound of two newcomers entering the temple. "Your paintings are beautiful, ma'am, but I won't help you delay payment."
"I know, but I wanted to express my gratitude."
The footsteps came closer, and Tai turned around, just like Soult. A strong old man with a gray beard and bright eyes walked in, followed by a freckle-faced and red-haired teenage boy. The warrior wore heavy armor and first-class equipment, while the younger boy, probably a squire, wore leather armor and a bow that was too large for him.
"Sir Sigurd." Thaert recognized the tall man, but Tai couldn't remember his name because he was lifeless. "Nice to see you again, dear knight."
"You've become charming, ma'am," the man said politely, not mentioning her illness, then frowned at the sight of Tai.
"Hello." The squire bowed shyly to Taiy and Salt. The necromancer didn't recognize his accent; probably Earthling. The older warrior stared at the alchemist intently, as if trying to remember him.
"Why stare?" he asked. "Have we met?"
"No, that's not possible," the man shook his head. "It can't be you, unless you haven't aged in thirty years."
Tai's face was expressionless and pale, his mind frozen. He angrily tried to remember if this man would ever meet him. Where and when?
"It seems that you have recruited an apprentice." Mrs. Searle smiled at the man's attendant. "May I have your name?"
"P——Percy," the boy said sheepishly. "Percy Greenfield."
"Princess Gwen Haifa and the latest promotions from the Royal Academy will soon arrive in your fair city," Sigurd said, all business. "She will be visiting temples and highest institutions to bless everyone...as usual."
With the fusions getting faster and faster, and the Earthlings coming to fight them, the Kingdom of Avalon came up with the brilliant idea of creating an agency to manage the two. This school will train future heroes, teaching them magic, combat, leadership, and how to fit into the ruling structure. This organization allows only the best, or Earthlings, within its walls and prepares them to defeat the Five Catastrophes.
"I would be happy to show the princess the wonders of Lyonesse," the priestess of Balder replied, then turned to Tai. "My friend Ty is a genius (alchemist). I'm sure New Hope for our country will enjoy discussing it with him."
"Oh, you are [Alchemist]?" Percy asked him curiously.
"I'm just a shopkeeper," Tai replied, caring more about the older warrior than his squire. "I don't feel comfortable in the spotlight."
"I see," the older knight said, his voice betraying no emotion. "Maybe I'll go buy something from you."
"You said you were a knight?" he gathered information. "Royal Knight?"
"Thirty years," the squire boasted to his master, while Sigurd kept a stoic expression.
"I'm retired," the man said, "and now I'm just an adventurer with a job."
Royal Knight, thirty years...
Ah, yes, the White Snake Purge. How could Tai forget that mess? The necromancer must have seen this Sigurd among the soldiers of the kingdom when they stormed the castle of his command, killed his lich master and forced him to flee for his life . That was a long time ago, when he still needed to breathe.
Although Sigurd seemed to have given up on the matter, Ty wasn't stupid enough to believe him. Even if the knight does turn his back on him, a word to his fellow knight can bring the hero to the necromancer's door.
Should he leave town? No. That would certainly cast doubt on him, Hagen hadn't dug up enough material yet, and he had grown too fond of Leonis to leave. Without his healing, Surte would likely die, and while he could make her immortal, he would not take away the life she seemed to cherish so much.
He will only cause an accident. After all, the life of a mercenary is short and brutal. Now Tai decided to send his followers to keep an eye on the former knight until the right opportunity arose.
He had more important things to do tonight.
Tai drove his black carriage, pulled by a scrawny horse, and guided by a flock of terrifying crows, stopped at the designated crossroads. His "secret supplier" is waiting for him in the woods. A crescent moon hung high in the sky, casting Broxhammed Forest in shadow.
To attend such a meeting, Tai changed into something even more impressive: a crimson cloak, velvet gloves, boots, and most importantly, a silver mask that covered his entire face, except for his Crimson eyes. The demonic runes engraved on its surface shine with fiery light, giving the Necromancer a terrifying aura.
It was just a stage trick, but he found it useful in business.
Ty glanced at the four men waiting for him and recognized his old supplier, the bald, fat businessman Patrick, and the three new crooks with swords. One of the snake-eyed swordsmen looked at Tai with calculating eyes.
"Are you a customer?" Ty asked as he climbed out of the car. Patrick nodded in confirmation. "Who's in the carriage?"
"You won't want to see my passengers," the Necromancer replied, his (Mask of the Forgotten) voice becoming an echo of the Legion. "Do you have any goods?"
The man gave him the prize. The magic book was the size of a cookbook and was camouflaged by a screaming grinning face. The teeth came together to spell out the title: "Mimir's Will."
Its cover appears to be made of human skin.
Because the whole book is.
"Can you imagine how many corpses it took to write this book?" Tai asked, immediately recognizing the book as the original. “Miles of human skin? Impracticality of craftsmanship?”
"The first thing is money," the leader said. Patrick arranged the meeting and had done business with Tye for years, but the man didn't know Tye as well as he did and couldn't trust him yet.
Ty grabbed a wallet attached to his belt and threw it to Patrick. The merchant nodded and opened it, his companion glancing greedily at the alchemically crafted ruby inside. "They are worth eighty thousand gold pieces," said the wizard. "Twenty thousand each."
Patrick counted the money and nodded to his colleagues. "Good," the leader of the trio said, without handing Tai the book. "Now, we can discuss the discoverer's reward."
"Discoverer's reward?" the Necromancer repeated, frowning behind his mask.
"We paid a huge price to obtain this book. Avoiding the Knights is not cheap."
"I paid what Patrick asked for."
"We didn't agree, Narbonne," the merchant said, obviously as surprised as Tai.
"Because you don't know how business works," the man replied, then gave the Necromancer a twisted smile. "Since this is our first transaction, I'll give you a discount."
"What if I refuse?" the Necromancer asked.
The man put his hand on his sword, as did the other two. "Then there will be no books."
"[Magic Sight]." Tai replied in a low voice, seeing three people appear with colorful halos. They cast a protective spell on themselves before the meeting, conveniently keeping Patrick in the dark. They also wield impressive equipment, such as the [Demon Sword].
If they were facing an ordinary dark wizard, they might appear intimidating.
But among the elite professions at level 53, the Necromancer is completely in another camp. "Does he speak for all of you?" Aspect asked. "If you disagree with him and want a fair deal, please take a step back in protest."
Only Patrick did so, and Nabon's smile grew colder. "Then I won't give you any money," he said.
"Indeed," Tai replied. "Death[X]."
The three men fell silently. Patrick, who survived alone, recoiled in horror as the body suddenly hit the ground.
Much to Tye's dismay, he didn't even get a new level out of it.
"Patrick, I believe one should keep one's word." "Otherwise, how can we make plans for the future?" Existence should be orderly, like the undead. A life free of the unpredictability of chaos and the sudden inconvenience of temporary interruptions we call death. I swear, when my work is done, death won't even be death anymore. "
He knew he was talking nonsense and the businessman was too scared to listen, but Tai liked the sound of his voice.
"Having said all that, you should choose your companions better next time," the Necromancer said, and snatched the dead man's book from his hands. "When you have someone pulling a wagon with dead horses and charging him for books made of human skin, that's not business. It's natural selection."
"Yes, sir," said Patrick.
"Keep the change," Tai said, letting the merchant escape with his ruby.
