Chapter 59
The tools for the dwarf. The training from Death Herald. A magician named Orion.
The dwarf returned with the others soon after. The mercenaries found a large hammer, though the dwarf frowned and looked at it skeptically.
But there was nothing to be done since, like most of his tools, he had left his hammer in Monteria. There were no anvils, but the mercenaries dragged a stone, which, according to them, could not be broken. The dwarf again looked skeptically at this improvised replacement of the anvil.
But he ran his hand over the smooth surface of this stone and was very surprised, saying that only a very strong magician could do this. After all, the surface was incredibly smooth.
Then we had to find a smelter. They assembled it quickly enough, and the magician from Lintirionel’s detachment provided the flame. Grolm seemed to be in his element. But the most striking thing for me was that the mountain master was holding the heated red-hot metal with his bare hands.
I wanted to try it myself, but I got my hand burned even before I touched the blanks. I noticed that the dwarf strengthened the hammer with some kind of energy structure, after which the blows became stronger.
It was very curious to look the bearded man working because he handled strong metal as if it was something soft and weightless. Grolm smiled while doing his work and said that he would finish the first blade in a couple of hours.
“I think you shouldn’t distract the master,” Mohr said. “Come with me, Sel Er, you should spend your time training.”
"Good," I agreed and went with the Death Herald to his laboratory.
***
Surprisingly, Skal, Tirliora, Rald, Riri and several other little fellows were already waiting for me there. They greeted me and immediately turned their attention to the necromancer.
“I gathered here those of you who are able to master energy management in a short period of time,” said Mohr. “Or rather, learn to use at least one weave that could help the others.
Everyone here has already awakened the gift, I helped some, others awakened it themselves. However, only persistent training and new knowledge can make you stronger. So, let’s start.”
The Death Herald stretched his hands and continued.
“Skal and the rest of the gravediggers will be studying death.
Tirliora and Rald will try to control water. I don’t have experience with this element myself, so we will sort it out together. Sel Er, Riri, your energy is very different from the others, so I can teach you only the basics of manipulating energy structures, and you will have to figure out the rest for yourselves.
However, I can still teach Sel Er how to manage Death, because, besides the energy that his body produces, he can also accumulate other types of energy. Riri has something remotely resembling Mulf's abilities, but not quite. I don’t know what kind of energy lies inside of you, so you will have put in more effort than others.”
“Right,” said Riri.
“So, first imagine a small ball in front of you. Like this one,” said Mohr, and a ball made of the dark-violet energy of death appeared before his eyes. “It will help you with concentration and improve your energy management skills.”
Skal completed the task faster than anyone else, he became noticeably stronger, and his level 20 testified to this. The gravedigger also grew and now seemed much larger than his level 3 tribesmen. And then, oddly enough, I managed to do it. Only my sphere was somewhat larger and was not dark purple, but white and glowing.
“That’s interesting energy, we will need to study it in more detail,” said Mohr, considering the result. “Well done, Skal, you already outperformed your friend in the manipulation of energy, but you should not gloat too much, because he is no less capable than you, and he has awakened the gift himself. The rest of you, stand next to your friends and try to do even better.”
Soon a small ball appeared over Riri. However, its color was strange, on the one hand, it was white, then it became slightly transparent with visible lilac clots of energy.
Mohr examined it carefully and wrote something down in his book. Hmm... maybe he can read the letter that I got from Palg or teach me to read?
Tirliora and Rald couldn’t work their spheres. Water droplets formed and quickly dissolved in front of them. When Tirliora created another sphere out of the water, it just exploded, splashing everyone around.
The gravediggers also had difficulties completing their task, but it was obvious that their natural propensity for the energy of death helped them. Skal’s advice helped them too, his confidence noticeably grew, which was very pleasant to see.
“The results are quite good,” the Death Herald said after a while. “Skal and Sel Er have already used the energy of death, so they will show you its strength from their own example. Hmm... Sel Er, get rid of the energy that is now inside you. You can use this ripper mannequin,” the necromancer pointed to a wooden two-legged, standing nearby, which was protected by some kind of magic.
I concentrated and stretched an energy cord to him, which I divided into seven strips. A wave of cold surged toward the dummy, and he was covered with frost, with icy air streaming across the lab floor.
“And where did you just dig out a source of such energy?” Mohr asked me in surprise.
“I found a place in the cave.”
“You must show it to me later. I need to study its energy structure.”
“I’ll try,” I said. I had to think of something so that I don’t have to show the necromancer the ancient city.
“I will now give you some death energy,” the necromancer replied, and a dark-violet cloud immediately enveloped him, and it came rushing towards me.
Thanks to the ability “Accumulation” the maximum possible amount of energy is collected!
Use the collected energy to empty the reserve or increase the available reserves!
Accumulated Energy: Death
Number of available charges: 8
“Use this energy and show how you applied it.”
I extended a wider cord to the mannequin, and the dark purple arrow flew in its direction, breaking a piece of frost covering it. It was clear that the charge of death turned out to be much weaker than the charge of cold, and apparently, this is exactly what Mohr wrote down in his book.
“Fine,” the necromancer nodded. “You learned how to create an arrow of death of low power, it seems you’re not thinking about its shape, but simply drawing the energy cord to the target and releasing energy. Now try to imagine a sphere, and then lead the cord through it to the target.”
I did what the Death Herald asked and a shining sphere appeared in front of me, woven from my energy. I extended the cord to it and sent the energy of death. The sphere was covered with dark-violet energy which was immediately scattered by the rays of white light. A small explosion threw me back from the statue.
“Hmm... an unusual result,” the necromancer frowned. “Let’s try it another way. Just imagine the ball, but do not put energy into it, then imagine a cord and wrap it around the ball.”
Once again, I did what the necromancer told me, but this time the sphere appeared much faster. It was bigger and dark-violet energy was flowing around it, breaking out from the surface, to be absorbed after a while. A fascinating spectacle. After that, I stretched a cord from the sphere to the dummy, and the energy structure instantly fell off and this time smashed the residual cold energy into smithereens.
The ability “Simple manipulation of energy” up! Current Level: 8!
The Studied ability "Small energy sphere"!
Description: Practicing to manipulate energy with the Death Herald, you discovered new knowledge that allowed you to master one of the simplest energy forms.
Level 1
“Congratulations on mastering a new ability,” said the necromancer, slightly curving his jaws, expressing joy. “You are now in the way of mastering the magic of Forms. I have recently read a book by a magician named Orion.”
&nbs
p; Chapter 60
A Usual spiker. The gratitude. How to save them all?
Inir
For a long time, Inir has been helping the soldiers recover from the fierce battle with the detachment of mercenaries supported by the rippers. But his forces quickly deceased, and many still needed to be cured, so he had to eat turquoises.
He was one of the spikers, and it was alright, but he really did not like battles, fighting, wars, or any other manifestation of cruelty. He was, like the others called him, a slug. Only these others would come to him, since only he had the ability to heal.
Not all injuries could be healed by rubitus, and only Narr Nutt had healing potions. Inir tried not to pay attention to the numerous mockeries of his relatives and continued to heal them.
He was not allowed to fight since he had such extraordinary abilities. He was also not allowed to leave the city and the trusted soldiers of the leader were watching him all the time.
His greatest dream in life was that the spikers would stop fighting everyone and live in peace with other species. However, many were skeptical about this, and those who shared his views kept quiet about it because everyone knew that if they supported Inir, they would soon disappear.
The spiker understood that Narr Nutt was to blame, so he stopped talking about it in order not to expose other citizens before the chief's killers. It was impossibly insulting to feel so helpless and useless because no one had the strength to defeat the leader.
He believed that by healing the warriors, he could at least in this way help his enslaved kinsmen, who did not understand this at all.
“It’s good that I managed to get to you,” breathed a big spiker, whose shell and hands had been heavily damaged. “If it were not for our slug, I would hardly have been sitting here. Good grief, with so few rebirths… Who on earth has ever invented them?”
“You could only dream of ripper immortality,” another warrior with deep cuts on his shell grinned. “Did you see that long-eared two-legged show her love to me? Everything still hurts,” the other wounded were clicking their jaws, expressing amusement. The fight was very hard for them.
“You are a suitor, you are already hitting on two-legged females, and you accuse me of dreaming of immortality,” the big spiker replied, waving him off with a restored hand.
“Shut up, I got hit by the short man,” another wounded pointed out to his two broken legs and punched shell. “You’d better let me pass, otherwise I’ll go to our ancestors right here.”
“Well, yes, they crushed you hard,” one of the spikers moved aside. “How are you still standing, I can’t believe it.”
“Barely,” breathed the beetle, who felt the magic healing deep wounds.
Inir Noen, Spiker-keeper, level 42
“You should have seen these rippers, Inir,” another spiker sighed. “They are real monsters. They were few, but they were very strong. And those that were in their metal shells, were total death machines. Their brightly dotted dark cloaks will haunt me for years.”
“This wretched Death Herald again used the bodies of our men,” the warrior with the broken hands was angry. “And his level is high, only our leader can sort him out.”
“Remember their invisible warrior, that’s the real danger. He came up to a couple of our guys almost without a sound, and crumbled them like haloptiriuses.”
"I'm more interested in something else," said one of the wounded thoughtfully. "Remember, among the mercenaries, there were a lot of small bugs and a couple of bigger ones. So, one of the beetles was a Karkant, and the other was a gravedigger, and each of them used the energy.”
“At such low levels? You were just seeing things. You got your head kicked in when we fought in that battle.”
“No, he wasn’t seeing things, the spell flew right in my face and, and although it was weak, it still burned my eyes. The small gravedigger is strong, and the Karkant is much stronger.”
“That’s strange, I thought we killed all the Karkants a few years ago.”
“Not all of them, apparently.”
“Who were those Karkants?” asked Inir, moving on to the next spiker.
“These were very strong warriors who could use energy,” replied one of the recovered warriors. “It was very hard to fight against them, but they were greatly outnumbered.”
“But why did we fight them?” asked the healer in surprise.
“How do I know?” the spiker waved his hands. “Narr Nutt ordered it, we would not have won without his help. What’s more, he pushed the rippers into the war, weak but very cunning. They took some Karkants with them in their cages.”
“Don’t you think that this is wrong, and why should we fight everyone we come across?” asked Inir.
“Just don’t start again,” sighed the spiker. “Our task is to obey the governor, there is no other way. Unless you can you take out Narr Nutt and take his place. Then we would do what you ordered us. Can you? No? Then shut up.”
After some time, Inir finally healed all the warriors, and only a couple of them could not be helped. The healer was very worried about this because he believed that he needed to grow much stronger to save his relatives.
But it is difficult to do this when they don’t even allow you to leave the city. That beetle’s words touched something deep in the soul of the peaceful healer. How great would it be to become a ruler and finally put an end to these senseless wars in which so many of his relatives perished?
Chapter 61
The head of slave traders. Mutual benefit. Cunning as the means of reaching the goal.
Narr Nutt
“Did you bring what I asked for?” Narr Nutt asked the man standing before him.
“Of course, did you doubt us, King?” the man made a graceful bow, and addressed him in this manner because he knew that the spiker always wanted to be king.”
“No, but I was becoming worried,” said the spiker, looking down at the man in the elegant jacket and feather hat.
Goroner Er Rinemohr, The Head of the Slave Traders, Level 80
“King Nutt, here is what you asked for,” the man stepped aside, and the other slave traders brought a couple of cages with people inside. “However, before giving you these slaves, I would like to see what I had asked of you.”
“Of course,” nodded the spiker in royal robes. “Give our friend what he asked for,” the king ordered, and they brought several more cages with spikers into the hall. “But why did you need my subordinates? Besides, it would be better to take strong warriors, rather than weak females.”
“I am sorry, but I have to be discreet about my goals, as customers do not like to advertise them,” said Goroner. “Also, I will not ask you why you need human slaves.”
“I’ve got nothing to hide here,” said Narr, slightly twisting his jaws. “I collect them. After all, they are so different, and without their shells and claws, they are weak and do not pose a threat. Their attempts to escape amuse me. I cannot even describe how pleasant it is to watch them being punished. Too bad this doesn’t work with my subordinates.”
“It’s curious,” the slave trader nodded. “In that case, I have another small gift for you.”
After Coroner's words, one of the slavers approached him and presented a solid box decorated with gold patterns. The head of the slave traders ran his fingers over the smooth surface and took the box in his hands.
“Let me show you,” the man opened the box. “This is one of the symbols of royal power, it is called an orb. This artifact accumulates magic and increases your energy supply many times, and it also personifies the power of the one who holds it. This item was made by the most skilled craftsmen especially for you. Please accept this modest gift as a sign of our friendship.”
“I am flattered by such an exquisite gift,” Narr Nutt could not hide his surprise and took the emerald-studded golden orb out from the box. The king has already managed to learn many words to keep the conversation with people at a high level. Most of the words he learned from
his numerous conversations with Goroner. “How great the power of this artifact is. It is impressive.”
“I’m glad you like it.”
“I think I will also give you a couple of gifts when I capture Girerd,” Narr Nutt smiled widely. “If you’re interested in unusual beetles and females, then there will be many of both of these for you.”
“It is an honor to accept the gifts from such a respected person,” Goroner bowed again. “However, we need to go, because there is still a lot of work to be done and deliver these females to customers.”
“You could stay a little longer and be my guest.”
“I hate to be impolite, but time waits for no one, and I really need to hurry, but I promise that next time I will accept your invitation and stay, probably longer than usual,” the chief slave trader bowed and went to the exit, noticing that this time the spiker leader did not offer an escort.
“Then I wish you a safe journey,” Narr Nutt nodded and headed in the opposite direction.
***
Goroner
“Finally, we managed to get him to go to war with the mercenaries,” the assistant to the head of the slave traders smiled on the way to the surface.
“We did, and we didn’t waste our slaves in vain, and his spikers will work twice as hard for me. Some will die in battles, and the rest will be sold to merchants whose taste I definitely don’t understand,” Goroner spat, and his body turned from disgust. “Fetch me some wine, Darryl.”
The head of the slave traders was watching the refined figures of women-spikers, or as this “king” called them, “females”. They really resembled people, at least in the upper part of the body, except that their faces were slightly different.
Small jaws and big eyes made them much more human than the other spikers, but as soon as one looks at the rest of the body, a shell, and four legs, the thoughts of humanity immediately disappear.
Goroner went to the cage and ran his hand over the head of one of the spikers, then along his neck and torso. Such beetles can only clean the yard, well, maybe take care of the cattle, and using them only as slaves were pointless.
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