by Han Yang
If the goblins perished horrifically, they died for good. I’d rather not disintegrate any of my minions while they were useful and thought Asha was giving me a worst case scenario, not a likely scenario.
“Alright, I’m backing up and going to sit in my tent and become our biggest creature.” I glanced around. “Probably Treev the centaur,” I said. “If you’re alive, and not a skeleton, follow me to guard my body.”
Instead of walking for an hour, I jogged the distance to hurry back. Up until that point, nothing abnormal had happened during our excursion. The biggest shock was that I finally got back to fifty Zorta.
Lumpy and Foxy were cleansing a densely populated forest. Adding to that, the skeleton army also made quick work of a few ratkin nests. Asha had to remind me of their Nordan name: raszker. These variations were much the same as the ones I had killed before, a Zorta or two per kill.
Besides the dozen dead raszker, I had a big pile of dead animals outside my tent. Lumpy could reach high up in the canopy, scurrying up the trees with his impressive claws. He’d stay up top, kill a few hundred birds over a few hours, and a few goblin skeletons would clean up the mess.
I wasn’t surprised when a note tied to a rock arrived from Bell that morning.
I want him back as a cat.
I couldn’t help but chuckle. She knew all the dead animals we were tossing in came from Lumpy in his amazing skeletal form. I didn’t reply, knowing it was out of my power until he found an animal healer back in Seqa.
The dwarves had sent over a hundred cart loads of fresh soil to Seqa. Our camp had a trench around it, and a widening circle away from the portal had been cleared of small trees.
The majority of the progress was measured and simple hard work. Our scouts widened their perimeter, and Asha found over thirty bernox holes. Meaning, we had a fight here if we wanted one.
I was willing to take the risk on one of these big skunk creatures. Good Z was hard to find, and the small stuff would eventually force Lumpy and Foxy farther and farther afield.
“You okay?” Jark asked, noting my quiet mulling.
“Yeah, Jark. It’s just… you know what, never mind,” I said with a huff.
He patted me on the shoulder. “Hey, Boss, you’re out here giving it your best. Smart of you to not go charging in. If only there was an easier way,” Jark said.
“One day at a time. I’m excited that we have a home. I just wish your sister wasn’t so angry,” I mumbled.
“I heard that, Damien,” Tarla quipped from inside the tent.
“Ha! She has big ears,” the brother taunted the sister as we arrived at the campsite. “Watch over him, sis, we’re going to guard the outside.”
I went into the tent, seeing Tarla tracing details from Asha’s exploration. Now that we could jump around the planet, we needed someone to do cartography work. I had watched Tarla draw, and I could proudly say she was a natural with a charcoal pencil.
“Well, I came back,” I said.
“Figured you would. You didn’t need to go in the first place,” Tarla said in a matter of fact manner.
I frowned and replied, “I happen to like my body. Being a skeleton isn’t,” I paused, sucking in a deep breath, “enjoyable. I’m going to fight as Treev. Are you ready to talk real quick?”
“This is Nordan, my handsome man. A husband demands his wife to tell him what bothers her,” she said, setting down the pencil. Her red hair swung, and her rosy cheeks highlighted her freckles. Tarla gazed at me intently with those sparkling brown eyes, as if eager for me to shout at her.
“You’re so damn cute,” I said, laying down. “I’ll work on building our Zorta stash for a better tomorrow.”
“For your family,” she replied dryly.
“Yeah, me, you, and Jark if he wants to come,” I said.
“For your family,” she said with a tougher tone.
I propped myself up on my elbows. “What does that mean?”
“That I trust you and believe in you. Please, earn us a victory, my handsome man,” Tarla said, leaning over to kiss my forehead. She asked, “What comes before family?”
“Nothing,” I replied with certainty.
The angst and anger faded from her face, allowing me to focus. I kissed the back of her hand in thanks. I wasn’t surprised she was so upset about eventually leaving her brother because they were twins. Some said that was an inseparable bond. Being upset about leaving Jark made sense, and I hope she did believe in us.
I adjusted my pillow, wiggled my back, and ensured nothing would hurt from a long rest. A final peek revealed Tarla had gone back to her work.
Closing my eyes, I meditated. The process of finding my aura never grew old. I concentrated on that spot in my core, growing the connection.
I began chanting, “Death is power, and I demand obedience. Death is power, and I demand obedience. Death is power, and I demand obedience.”
My third eye left my body, soaring high into the forest. I grew confused, willing the connection to change direction. If I had to guess, I had diverted from connecting to Lumpy because he was the closest skeleton.
I returned to the camp, finding the direction I needed to go. Before I went toward Asha and my assembled minions, I tried to divert. In the back of my mind, I figured I might be able to scout that way.
My aura hit a wall, unable to travel any direction besides toward a minion.
I guess this makes sense. Kinda wish I could exploit being an invisible ghost that can see.
With an intense willpower, I pushed myself beyond Lumpy in the trees and for the distant minions. I went through trees as a test. The result was… unsettling.
I arrived at my assembled minions, diving into Treev the centaur. Our aura’s connected, and I reigned in control of his bones.
Small nuances became a massive difference. I faltered on four legs, my mind failing to feel natural with having a horse body. My stumbling increased until I crashed into a gnome, sending us both crashing down.
Yeah, screw trying to learn how to be a horse before a fight.
“You okay?” Asha asked, staring down at Treev.
I willed myself out of the centaur’s frame to scan the others. I found a tempting target, diving into one of the few dwarves who hadn’t been revived yet. A jolt of power connected us, and I popped the dwarf’s jaw. The skull seemed to have been in a constant frown.
Behind me, the centaur and gnome regained their feet and Asha cued into my body swap. I tossed the war hammer to the forest floor in front of Treev, folding fingers in a ‘give me’ motion for the sword. He proffered the sword, allowing me to gain a weapon I was more familiar with.
“Ah, you seem to take just fine to a dwarf,” Asha said happily.
I grumbled, not even realizing why I was sour. Maybe because I had to look up at the smug, white-haired elva.
I trudged toward the descending cavernous opening, shield held at the ready, my weapon poised to strike. The sword felt light, the grip surprisingly sturdy. My gait was shorter but easy to manage. I braved the opening, holding a hand behind me to halt the others.
I mouthed, “I’ll scout. If I bang sword on the shield, come save me.”
The skeletons nodded, and Asha plopped a thumbs up with a giant smirk. I rolled my head since I had no eyes. The elva loved the fact I was a dwarf.
I entered the darkening tunnel, finding loose dirt indenting from my feet. My footprints were unique, a trail leading into the unknown. Thankfully, I could see in the dark because the moment I left the opening, my vision turned into a greenish hue.
The underground network left me puzzled. Freshly churned dirt rested on the edges and in the center of the tunnel.
This must be new?
I bent down, scooping up a pile, and then ran a hand down the side of the wall. I kept going, pondering the situation while delving deeper into the cavern. Thankfully, the tunnel didn’t change much, and I didn’t have to investigate a dozen offshoots. I was curious as to where the excess dir
t ended up. Maybe there was already a tunnel and this was a bernox expanding it?
After five minutes of casual walking, I reached a Y in the network. The difference was clear. To the left laid fresh dirt while to the right rested a smaller old tunnel.
A set of smaller prints tracking fresh dirt to the right grabbed my attention. I walked down the old trail, following the curve until it opened up into a boxy cavern. I paused at the edge of the room, peering in.
Both sides of the walls held cutout bunks. In the middle of the space, the remains of a fox’s corpse laid next to piles of feces. I saw about half a dozen ratkin sleeping and two crunching on the bones of the fox.
A set of ratkin eyes darted up, noticing my arrival.
I charged in, shield up and weapon ready. The loud shriek from the ratkin who noticed me reverberated through the air.
The shield smacked into the startled partner, and I drove the tip of the blade into the face of the rising ratkin.
The sword popped out the back of its soft skull, allowing me to yank the weapon free with ease. I swung a hard kick to the recovering ratkin that I had shield bashed earlier. The creature scampered, trying to flee, and I sliced it down.
The blade chopped into the neck, crashing through bone. Those who were sleeping called out to others.
I backpedaled, slowly retreating as more and more ratkin flooded out of the tunnel network.
Ah, so this is why the bernox moved in. A food source and pre dug tunnels to easily expand.
The ratkin found their courage when the few became the many. I spun, fleeing with about twenty ratkin hot on my heels. These were the opposite of goblins, so brutish they didn’t even speak the common Ostriva language. I could hear guttural calls to end me.
My damn legs barely outpaced the growing horde of buck-toothed, rat-tailed humanoids. Yellow, beady eyes glared with pure hatred at my skeletal form. I didn’t understand their society, but it became clear that if you invaded their home, they swarmed.
For once, I sprinted for the light at the end of the tunnel. The incline quickly faded to reveal my minion army formed into a shield wall. The centaurs turned, allowing me to pass into the safety of my troops.
“Shields high, absorb the raskers’ charge, and then stab after we heave,” Asha commanded.
Before I even had the chance to spin, the loud crash of snarling creatures hitting shields reached my ears. I turned, running for a flank on the line.
When I arrived, the slaughter was in full effect. Most of the raskers didn’t even have weapons. Their claws and teeth skittered and scraped against shields, proving almost useless against breaking bones. The centaurs and Asha slew with fast cuts, cleaving the foe with ease.
I stepped ahead of the line, driving my blade between exposed ribs. I kicked the body off, returning to join the formation.
Crude enemy swords and axes smashed shields or lopped off limbs. Their assault into my troops was reckless, and the charge of our foes was doomed.
Like a switch had flipped, the raskers cued into the fact they were losing horribly, and a rout ensued. Panicked cries joined those screaming in pain.
I joined the mass of skeleton warriors, my short legs quick enough to stab down at tripped or wounded foes that the bigger skeletons brought down.
Asha and the centaurs led the charge, turning down the tunnel the ratkin lived in. I stabbed another recovering juvenile, surprised they never turned to fight with the outcome so clear.
Raskers weren’t goblins. My ability to add them to our army didn’t bear consideration besides in skeletal form. I didn’t even want them as slaves for the goblins to manage. When we found their young, I didn’t participate in the slaughter. Their orbs would add to our victory.
The victorious fight brought overwhelming joy to my heart. At least fifty dead raskers would be a massive boon to our needs. Finally, a foe I didn’t mind killing to the last one.
I saw Asha collecting orbs, the only living body capable of doing so at the moment. I didn’t leave anything for someone else to find. I started dragging bodies to be carted off later. At the very least, they were future dog food.
The process of piling the dead lasted at least a half hour. The resident bernox didn’t show up or reveal itself, and for that, I was grateful. After I held up a closed fist to Asha, I left the dwarf’s body, returning to our camp.
I gasped, inhaling lungs full of air when my mind’s eye returned into my body inside the tent.
Tarla stared down at me and asked, “Is everything okay?”
“Perfect. We just started diving into the bernox tunnel, and there’s a lot of smaller species that hide underground with them, just living in harder to dig side tunnels. Jark,” I hollered.
“Yes, Boss,” he replied.
“Get some wagons going to where we left from. We need to haul back a whole lot of bodies,” I said.
“Send any of the living, or just the dwarves?” he asked.
“You and the dwarves. The meat will help, and they know it,” I said.
Closing my eyes, I reached out to my minions. The distance proved to require time, but I eventually found them. I felt their receptive replies, welcoming my authority.
Lumpy: Repair missing claw: 2 mana of 155 available.
Goblin 1: Repair broken foot: 1 mana of 155 available.
Gnome 2: Repair missing hand: 5 mana of 155 available.
Troll 9: Repair missing arm: 5 mana of 155 available.
Perqueta: Repair broken arm: 2 mana of 155 available.
Troll 3: Repair missing jaw: 5 mana of 155 available.
Gnome 4: Repair fractured femur: 1 mana of 155 available.
Goblin 7: Repair fracture clavicle: 1 mana of 155 available.
I accepted the mana drain, letting my aura shoot out of my body. The distant healing forced me to become fixed in place. I tried to sit up to pee. Nope. Every motion resulted in the same thing, a block.
This was the cost of a distant heal. I could do it, but I had to be careful doing so because I remained fixed during the magic. The spell finally reached my minions, and the magic quickly repaired them.
Tarla leaned over, giving me a soft kiss. “What’s next?”
“I try to kill a bernox,” I said, with a smile. “Thanks for watching over me. Stir me if there’s an issue. The big battle comes next.”
CHAPTER 41
Igorn Forest
“Welcome back,” Asha said, seeing me control the dwarf. “Sixty seven Zorta. Maybe we should poke more of these holes.”
I nodded in agreement, smiling the best I could in the dwarven skeleton. I went into the tunnel with the others this time, the need for stealthy quiet no longer a big concern. Our formation was loose, padding the loose dirt during our progress.
We walked by the rasker’s side tunnel, continuing down the main trail. A steady decline increased until I worried about my footing.
At some point, I figured the underground mazes would become second nature. The sheer scope of how expansive these networks were became staggering.
The declining main tunnel split, and then split, and then split ten different times. Over a half hour of trying to map the place, I felt like we got nowhere and had only explored a fraction of this system. Asha began notating each split on a piece of paper, and I realized that we were in a labyrinth.
“The bernox heads this way, but there’s tracks everywhere, and they’re not just raskers. Something bigger than a troll but smaller than an ogre. We probably found an underground village or town. I… I think it’s best we turn around,” Asha said with concern.
I huffed on instinct, it doing nothing in the dwarven frame. I grabbed the map, running my finger down the stretch of map that followed the bernox’s fresh digging.
“What about the tracks?” he asked. Before I could draw, he continued, “Damien, I don’t know what these prints belong to. They could belong to the four-armed korb, an orc, or a spendrix which are a hybrid troll and ogre. The main thing is, I’ve never seen any orc p
rints outside a city, but those are likely orc prints.
“No matter what we face down here, it's growing into a bigger problem than I anticipated. They’re not some pushover. We’ll lose half our army to a squad of properly trained spendrix unless we get some advantage. A lot of these minions are capable of joining the living and growing the Seqa population.”
And there it was - risking the lives held consequences. The very body I occupied would probably like to become a dwarf again, and I could understand that. He would want to work toward earning ten thousand gold to break free of my grip. An admirable goal.
However, all of these minions only had a second chance at life because of me. If I didn’t grow in power and wealth, they’d die anyway.
I resolutely shook my head no.
I returned my finger to the map, running it for the bernox. I would try not to sacrifice them, but I had to be honest. I had twenty goblins and eight gnomes in my formation - all of them were too small to be viable warriors.
The mere thought of flesh and blood orcs in full armor had me excited. Once they were mine, of course. I had been at this for months, and to that point, I had lost all my best minions.
Convincing myself that my decision was correct, I walked away from Asha, following the main path. After venturing beyond our mapped out point, I kept going. While I couldn’t smell, Asha wavered on his feet and had to fall back.
I pushed on. My green night vision shifted, seeing a fire and hearing broken words from around a bend. I held up my shield, creeping forward. A side tunnel appeared in the curve suddenly, only a few feet away.
Slowing, I inspected the area, seeing the worn floor showed signs of heavy foot traffic.
Elsewhere, the loose dirt still piled, and I pondered as to the why. The sound of laughter approached from the side tunnel I stood by.
Thinking quickly, I laid down, playing dead. It didn’t take long to see ten-foot tall lizard humanoids walking with a goblin over each of their shoulders. I expected a lingering inspection, or at the least a cursory glance, but they both never even saw me.
