The Undead demons were far superior compared to any regular lumbering Undead—and far prettier too. Their rebellious personalities were troublesome but at least they had personalities at all. Snide and cocky and dark. Much better than soulless, decaying corpses. The imps didn’t decay either. A massive boon to his army.
“Wow, this is sure easy now!” Gabrielle said at his side. She carried a large chunk of gray stone in both arms, her crafted spawnstone buried inside. Spawnstones couldn’t be placed in one’s inventory for obvious reasons—even while inactive.
Rowan rubbed her shoulder. “Yeah, that boss is a goner. If it’s within thirty levels to me, it’ll be ours.”
“Hmm?” She sliced him a glance. “I thought ya could only raise up to your level.”
“My Raise skill’s tier leveled up.” He took a breath, the jog a steady drain on his low stamina. “The maximum is going up. Lesser Mass Raise seems to be a static skill but it doesn’t cap minion skill tiers to my max.”
“Oh, goody.” She beamed at her personal imp Mage guard. “You’re getting some bigger friends soon.” It returned a silent, vicious grin before charging a long-range Chaos Orb at the upcoming pack.
Rowan smirked at her cuteness, raising a clawed imp with a single word and a flick of his wand. Then reviewed the skill to double check he had read it right.
Active Skill: Raise
Raises a corpse to an Undead minion.
Skill Level: 23, 5%
Skill Tier: 3
Channel duration: 2 seconds.
Mana Cost: 200
Effect: 2 maximum targets. Usable on skeletons. Corpse decay weakens the resulting minion. 23% fewer minion slots used, minimum 1 slot.
Tier Effect: Not usable on world bosses or targets of 30 or more levels than yourself. Cannot be used on world bosses of Tier 7 or more. Minion skill tiers are capped at your highest class skill tier.
Raise had gained a few tiers. Rowan had used Raise instead of Lesser Mass Raise as the corpses presented themselves or whenever one of his imps fell in battle—they were very squishy and needed ample support auras. The bonus to the level cap had increased by ten every tier. He could only imagine the power of demons of level 158. The clawed imps and imp Mages were strong but they only knew a few skills. Two for the former and three for the latter, outlined in his minion detail interface.
Minions
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[1 slot each] Raised Clawed Fire Imp (64): Average level 94
Average Health: 4420
Average Mana: 1230
Average Stamina: 2940
Active Skill: Puff (T4)
Active Skill: Dark Fire Claws (T3)
Passive Skill: Demonic Skin (T2)
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[1 slot each] Raised Fire Imp Mage (6): Average Level 106
Average Health: 5310
Average Mana: 4220
Average Stamina: 1450
Active Skill: Puff (T5)
Active Skill: Corrupting Fire Blast (T4)
Active Skill: Chaos Orb (T3)
Passive Skill: Demonic Skin (T3)
A good interface design by the hyper-intelligent AI controller. Rowan gave it that. He had imagined a bloated list showing the details of every minion but he’d been pleasantly surprised. The interface averaged every similar minion, skill tiers included, and allowed Rowan to expand on any particular imp in his line-of-sight. A fair compromise. And he didn’t bother checking if every imp was properly manufactured.
Puff was the smoky teleportation skill which Gabrielle knew. Demonic skin granted a large amour bonus and let the imps slap away projectile spells if it was quick enough to react. Not curses though or physical projectiles, however. Zero variance on skill tiers. Character levels differed by two or three.
“This dungeon is really long…” Gabrielle said and stopped by an imp Mage’s shredded body. It oozed black blood from the three-piece.
But no problem for Rowan. They could be raised as long as the head and torso were mostly intact and decay less than 50%. He raised it in a spiral of black mana and said, “What’s the average dungeon length?”
“It depends on the difficulty.” Her lips puckered. “If this is an S difficulty dungeon we could have problems.” But glee broke out on her face. “We have all these cute little imps! It won’t be a problem.” She twirled a full 360 with the imp Mage’s wrists in her hands.
It whinnied in protest as Rowan shot it a mental command to not hurt his Gabrielle. They were rabid beings when not under his control. And he made a note to not forget that. He said, “Does this look like an S difficulty raid?”
“Maybe,” she said, letting go of the poor imp.
This could be problematic. “Do you think we should leave once I cap out on minions?”
“Mmmm…” She adjusted her hat. “Maybe.”
Rowan’s nose wrinkled. Adorable but hard to strategize with. He slapped her lovely behind. “Anything other than maybe, my beautiful Gabrielle?”
She smirked. “Maybe.”
He chuckled as Gabrielle laughed that sweet, delicious mirth before saying, “The fodder minions or followers usually get stronger the closer we get to the boss. The lieutenants are a good chunk of the boss’s power level.”
So they still had a long way to go… “Interesting.”
“Interesting,” she mimicked his voice mockingly.
That earned her another spank. “I’ll bend you over next time,” he growled.
“Hehehehe.”
They continued in relative silence, similar small talk and flirting echoing off the walls in these extra-wide corridors. The imps could work without sound, their puffing smoke the only noise they made while commanded to be silent.
They’d passed through three similar chambers connected by a sparse web of corridors and natural tunnels, each appearing to be some kind of gathering hall. The number of imps had been consistent, though the elemental numbers dwindled. The subsequent chambers had been less ruined—less lava pooling by the walls. The third chamber had been connected by a descending corridor, more Mages in that one. This place had to be huge or the boss was an imp. Either possible.
And Gabrielle hadn’t found a suitable hiding place for her spawnstone yet. Which stopped Ambiguous from joining the dungeon crawl. Though her state of limited mana wouldn’t help much anyway but—
Rowan needed to pick up his level 120 control set from the market.
Though he wasn’t in any rush. He was far from his minion cap.
Also, Someone had purchased all the necromancer gear from the gold market, forcing Rowan to buy a generic, classless control set. Those damned light players again. It was a huge loss because the gear on there was sub-par—but a loss nonetheless. He’d been too careless before Draesear’s intervention. Damn that Doctor Roth. If Gabrielle wasn’t jogging at his side, Rowan would’ve cursed the old man out loud. She seemed to be quite fond of the good doctor. Whether an act or not he couldn’t discern.
The clawed imps tore down two wandering elementals and stopped at the entrance to the next chamber as Rowan had instructed. They lined the walls, making way for Gabrielle and Rowan and their elite Mage guard. "Good work, imps," he said, Gabrielle copied his words.
They grinned in response. So much better than mindless human Undead. And less needy than the dark humans—he needed subjects with free will though. Not everything could be bound to his absolute will in a continent-wide empire.
“Go go go!” Gabrielle chirped.
He nodded and readied the typical combo. First, a Tainted Ice Blast to draw attention. Then a blizzard followed by a volley of blasts to clear the chamber. A line of clawed imps protected Rowan’s front, imp corpses piling at the entrance.
Another twenty imps joined his ranks soon enough. One Mage this time.
“Kay, let's go!” Gabrielle said, impatience slipping into her voice.
Rowan too, this monotonous grind reminiscent of other MMOs. His skin itched for something more challenging, his mana bubbling in irritation.
“Yeah,” he muttered and diverted his horde to the largest tunnel.
* * *
Gabrielle hummed a tune as the spawnstone’s mana signature radiated in her arms. It had taken half an hour to craft while her saner Rowan had waited with occasional bouts of grouchiness.
Yes, her Rowan. She'd resigned to that fact minutes before. Her untamed mind had claimed the boy, for better or worse. And there was a lot of worse which needed to be fixed before the better could shine. If only his brain healed more quickly. That was seriously straining the mission. Despite his current above-average intelligence, he certainly was an idiot a lot of the time. Like forgetting his only spawn point was the dark temple—flooded with so-called good players by now. He'd likely be trapped in there for weeks while she painstakingly breaks him out.
Once the other dark players logged in that is. They needed the few darkies in their command to make this convoluted plan work. All the dark players owed her. She’d created them all. Unfortunately, they sure liked their downtime on the other side of the world despite the warning she’d given them the other week: start playing more often! Uncle Vincent had messaged her to do so because Rowan’s hearing was approaching.
But now with these demons… Perhaps they wouldn’t even be needed.
The sentient demonic Undead was a big improvement over what Ione had shown in that vision. This was her doing, likely… Undoubtedly her doing. Gabrielle had imagined a prettier, smarter version of Undead but it looked like Necromancer's Undead was the same as the NPC Death-Knight's Undead back in early beta. Too bad, and a shame. But those bone and mana dragons that were shown in the forecast weren't too bad. They looked pretty good—a good body for Redwing.
Which reminded her… Rowan’s first promise. She said, “So… When are ya gonna make Redwing a body?”
Rowan paused in his pace, blinking like an owl. “Your teddy dragon?”
Hmph. So he remembered. Good job, boy. “Yup!” She raised a brow.
“We need a dragon’s corpse. I don’t have a…” He scowled, searching for words probably. “Craft-a-body-of-bone-and-mana from corpse bits skill. We’ll need a dragon corpse or more scrolls.”
She laughed at that. A real laugh. Rowan was sure amusing at times. But damn. More scrolls would be difficult. “Awww… Kay.”
Someone sad grew in his eyes. He’d been having this look every now and then since he’d become a Necromancer. Peculiar. Gabrielle couldn’t guess why.
He swallowed. “We’ll go hunting for one after we corrupt the—”
Gabrielle's detection ward tugged at her mind as they walked through a large doorway.
A pair of several foot tall demons puffed at Rowan. His entire puny army of a hundred imps doubled back. The left demon slapped away an ice blast like before, cutting off and freezing a large chunk of the imps.
Gabrielle’s insides turned to stone as Rowan’s shield shattered again. She shifted the spawnstone to one arm, reaching for her wand, about to puff into his arms.
But it wasn’t needed. The hovering imp Mages forced the things back into the adjoining room with blasts of ruby-black fire. Ten clawed imps pinned them to the tiled floor and ended them. Oh, the floor was paved with intricate tiles now, pretty patterns and designs carved into square blocks of black and gray stone.
But back to Rowan. His cheek bled bright red, pain tight on his nice face.
“Holy shit,” he mumbled, touching his wound for a second. His health bar had lost a sliver. “Again.” He began re-raising the imps that’d died to his own ice attack.
A wave of her wand and his wound sealed. A chantless Witch-Doctor ability: Apply Dark Essence, an instant, weak heal for those with dark mana. Or those who have dark mana actively flowing through their bodies anywho. “Ya okay?” she said, a touch of softness in her voice. She didn’t like seeing him hurt, her belly constricting. Anything that hurts her Rowan will suffer. This was the only Rowan in her possession. Too valuable to lose.
“Yeah, thanks.” He nodded to her and strolled to the corpse. One corpse.
The other had to be an illusion.
Gabrielle Examined, taking in its features in the low light of her lamp. Pitch-black, tight, smooth skin as usual. Humanoid skull. Empty, large eye-sockets. No horns or wings. Sleek, elongated build and flaming blades for arms that still dimmed in its death.
[Corpse] Bladed Stalker (Demon): Level 118
Health: 0/12710
Mana: 0/3450
Stamina: 0/9560
Decay: 0%
Hmmm… Quite high health. A front-line, Blademaster-like damage dealer and not a tank, Gabrielle concluded, judging from its sleek form and illusion skill. Could be useful. They badly needed a tank but this would have to do for now. She resisted a grumble of annoyance. Tanks were never around when needed.
Rowan finished his cast of Lesser Mass Raise and the stalker's eyes flared to life.
And lunged at Rowan again before the imps restrained it. Gabrielle’s hand tightened around her wand, ready to intervene at any heartbeat.
“What the fuck?” he blurted and pointed his wand at its struggling skull.
The stalker spoke, voice like a loud whisper, “Foooslishhh moortaal. Yoou are not woorthy.”
Rowan’s wand glowed.
“Feed it more of your mana,” Gabrielle said as he was about to blast it.
His swirling eyes flicked to her, new grouchiness on them. “Why?”
Ugh. No time to explain. “Just do it.”
Rowan’s Ice-Dark mana flared around his body as he growled. “Demon! Do as I say!”
Mana flowed into the demon till just under one percent of Rowan’s mana bar was reserved. The stalker stopped struggling, its flaring eyes calming to a slow spin of yellow fire. The imps released it after a few seconds and Rowan ordered it to raise its arms up and down without a spoken command. It was his minion now. Though its face and blade-arms twitched like the first imps he’d raised.
Just as Gabrielle thought. These were real demons pulled back from wherever they went when they died, then bound to Rowan’s will via his Necromancer magic…
Which only meant demons and Undead are more similar in this game than she had speculated. Perhaps even one and the same. Perhaps he could learn to summon them and match or transcend the power of Fire-Dark. Excellent!
“Good job,” she chirped.
“What the hell was that?” Rowan glanced at her.
Explain or give a half-answer?
Hmmm… Test the boy. See if he could figure it out without her hand-holding.
“Ah… I think its like with Beastmaster.” She scratched her smooth chin. “You need to reserve your mana to control the stronger ones.” She offered a wide smile.
He seemed to buy it, nodding. “Didn’t know about that… There wasn’t a Beastmaster’s section on the forums.”
Well, there was a simple reason for that. “Because Beastmaster is a unique class like Witch-Doctor. Necromancer existed since the first day of alpha! Ya can’t expect the AI to add a section for every class in the game.” She giggled, half real. Rowan could sure be dumb sometimes.
“Right. Thanks.” He sighed and ordered his growing army back into a march, imps surrounding the stalker just in case.
Gabrielle resumed the hum of her mental track-list, skipping alongside Rowan’s rough, boyish jog.
Chapter 25
Conditions
The first truly grotesque demon appeared among a surprise ambush of imps and stalkers. A ten-foot tall, black owl-like humanoid, more bird than man, its beak leaking puss and black goo beneath those usual flaming orbs. It supported the pack with a few defensive auras and putrid green bolts that healed its allies.
Owlish Overseer (Demon): Level 127
Health: 14,560
Mana: 27,400
Stamina: 7,610
Buffs: Mana Shield, Pestilence Aura (Reduces disease and dark resistance to those not in party), Unholy Aura (A large bonus to the party’s resistances)
The fi
rst demon protected by a Mana Shield, cawing and clawing as it hurled spells without end. A macabre but awe-inspiring sight.
Ten imps and a stalker disintegrated into ash in the fray and Gabrielle was forced to use one of her Dark Regeneration Totems. Rowan ordered his more valuable minions—stalkers and imp Mages—to the backline for healing while a third of the clawed imps perished. They were fodder, buying valuable time.
Gabrielle focused on healing and removing disease curses cast by the bird, one-handed, while Rowan struggled to join the battle without dealing heavy friendly-fire. She flung a bubbling, poison curse at the bird too. It dodged in a puff with ease. The enemy stalkers sliced through imp after imp, their illusions too much for them. But one fell, overwhelmed by the sheer number of clawed imps.
“All-in on the overseer once you’re all full health,” Rowan said to his own ten stalkers, their wounds sealing in the blue-green light of Gabrielle’s totem.
Aeon Chronicles Online_Book 1_Devil's Deal Page 29
