Chương 231: The Human Race Ch. 8-229 – Please, No Offense Meant

"<I am The Traveler, and this is my man, Master Fred, the Silent Warlock, Warlock Grandmaster, Heaven and Hellbound>," I introduced us formally in Necrus, switching to the language of the undead comfortably.

"<Which honored sage of the ghouls of Leng am I speaking to? >" The bent and crouching ghoul, form radiating a craven nature and subservience, underwent a change as it slowly straightened up, rising to a height of nearly seven feet tall to look at us with something approaching decorum.

"<It is rare to find a civilized person in this place, Lady Traveler>," the ghoul returned, and even etched a bow that would have gone over much better if it had been in formal garb.

"<I am Charles Woodrow. >""<Learned Woodrow>," I inclined my head. Its sibilant voice was still skin-crawling, as was that foot-long tongue it didn't seem able to control, but I looked past it aloofly.

"<Your people seem like they want to get in my way. Given that they've been eliminating the undead that have been coming through, I'm inclined to ignore them and let them continue with their harvesting of the walking meals, but they seem to be intent on committing suicide instead? >" It was regarding us carefully, particularly leery of the Heavenly auras about us that fairly radiated anathema to its kind.

"<My apologies. Though your conveyance is... remarkable for this place and time, it did not possess sufficient threat to warn them away. After all, the great weakness of such machines is always those who use them, is it not? >""< Ah. >" He retreated a half-step at that syllable of mine, and the way it made the air quiver.

"<So, you need a show of power, Learned Woodrow? >" I asked, and magic hummed in the air, every thread and mote tapping and playing in time to the cadence of my words and their syllables. To a spellcaster, it would feel like all of magic was starting to Sing, and when that Song is in Necrus, it's not very encouraging. Especially to the undead, when the magic is glowing. I extended my hand, and flicked up one Shard. It hung there like a crystal teardrop, jet and silver, humming softly on the threads of magic.

The ghoul sage pursed its lips. It was just a Shard... The first ten colors cycled into existence in a ring of death, ROYGBIV, Black, Grey, White... Its large black pupils suddenly got very small, indeed. Then I applied basic Masteries and +1's and +2's to them, one by one. When the first Shard seemed to shatter the air as all those Metas, Boosts, and Kickers hit it, Mr. Woodrow jumped all the way back it could, staring at the burning antipathy blazing about those little bundles of force energy.

One by one, all ten Shards lit up the same way, while I just pursed my lips and Sang a little melody. I could see the ghoul's dark reflection of a soul shuddering as the Song of the Last Day reverberated through the manasphere. I stretched out my other hand, and with a crackling blaze of radiance through the manasphere, another ring of ten Shards materialized around my other hand.

I clenched them, and the ten flaming Admixtured mirrors of them, hot as starfire, flared into existence like tiny suns behind the first ten on each hand, rotating in opposite directions. I slowly raised my hands towards the hills there, and the hidden things that thought they were hiding from me. The Song didn't falter a whit as I also chanted, "<If I blink, all of your comrades die, Most Learned. Shall I kill them to complete my show?

>" There was a moment of pause, and then the ghoul turned around and screamed a wordless cry pregnant with all sorts of desperate fear and urgency that came right from the depths of its guts. Charlie Woodward crouched all the way down, hitting its head on the ground, and with every descent of its feral skull, it hopped five feet back. It took a full minute for it to reach that little crevice and vanish from view, and never once did it dare to look at me again.

I could hear the frantic sound of hooves and feet on stone as the horde behind the hills ran away in a panic. Pretty nice scream... -So, one-third your normal initial count is that impressive? - Master Fred /asked dryly, as Sleipner nickered and got into motion again. -Who knew? - I /replied, and he just smiled slightly as we continued on our way.

Well, I saw my first Moon Beast in this life, sitting atop a hill like a great four-legged corpse-flesh bear-like beast, save for the pinkish tentacles that comprised its face. It was obviously watching us from the distance as 'noon' was coming close, and our break to Do Stuff for the day. Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

The multiple orifices hidden between and under that mash of tentacles let out a cry in Aklo, that meant something like 'feed on them'! A second later it blew apart into vivic ash as the Shards came in and treated it without much respect. I had no fondness for these madly-conquering creatures whatsoever. -Multiple contacts ahead, but they seem to be pausing, - Master Fred /reported idly, while Sleipner just kept going.

I boosted my own Eyes of Heaven up to V with the surfeit of ki that came back to me, and saw the dozens of creatures sitting to the left and right of our route. At least two other 'feeder lanes' of undead had converged here, and there were definitely signs of fighting about. But there was no way any undead coming in small numbers were going to be able to survive against the denizens of this land organized to fight them off.

Again, that ululating cry, even as I picked out the Twelve+'s with the Eyes; they had to be the commanding moonbeasts. I Paired, Admixtured, and Split Ray'd, and eight Shardrays sang through the manafield, Seeking their targets. They weren't straight, flashing through the air like coruscant serpents, and the eight Moonbeasts could only pause to see them coming... and as they blew apart, the Shardrays Chained out, obliterating the two hundred natives of Leng closest to them.

The surge that was coming stalled out again in a lot of bloodspray going as energetically vivic as nitroglycerin. Otherplanar Aberrants hit ALL the vivic buttons when they are heavy on the necromancy... Another volley of Shardrays sliced and arced through the air; something had the time to meep in fear as they came down and repeated the process again. I watched them begin to flee, and had little sympathy for the Moonbeasts.

As we passed the area they'd wanted to fight us in, now bracketed by areas burning with vivic fire, I tossed four more Rays right and left, but spared them the Chains as their masters were obliterated coldly. They didn't have to run far, as we weren't chasing, but by the time we got out of range, there were no moonbeasts left alive behind me.

As for the natives of Leng, they might not need to continue with their work for too long, given where I was going, but their numerical advantage was much, much lower than it had been previously...

Eight hours of Infusing and Meditation on this cold and desolate plateau. The chill here was twisted from the purity of the arctic, tainted by old powers and the slithery feel of necroic energies that were only intensified under the latent Dream leaking from Leng, and the nightmares behind it. Even the weather was part of it. The mists and fogs that crept here, there, and everywhere were partially psychoplasm, and even Master Fred couldn't see very far through them.

It was quite annoying, but it didn't stop me from tracing a Lived-Line, and even the magic couldn't defeat the power of magnetic South right in front of us, waving its flag of Gauss levels happily and making our magically-reinforced Compass quiver in anticipation. Still, word had gone out on the vibes of Leng, via the drums beating arrhythmically and the keen pipings on the wind. Nothing came in to bug us while we sat in the shadow of an outcropping on a cold and lonely tor and did our Infusings for the day.

"... where rest the weary, and dream of the wind at dawn." And damn if this place didn't need a warm morning wind and some real Light coming down on it... Ding! Ding! Ding! Ding! Ding! Dong... I do not have a headache, I do not have a headache... I eyed my Assay as Master Fred looked on, the knowing expression on his face leaving me looking for a pillow to throw at him. Grenadier/1. Grenadier. Grenadier? WTF? What do I want the Alchemical Advanced Bomb-Throwing Class for? Did the Shroud not know I was using Shards?

WTF do I need a limited supply of paltry Alchemical Bombs for? Whoops. Wrong thing to be thinking... Of damn course the Shroud knows I'm using Shards, and probably wasn't expecting me to do so at quite this level. The Alchemical focus on Bombs came AFTER I started using Shards. It wants me to have a lot of bombs, and with Grenadier, wants their damage to go up. Why would it bother, unless it was something useful for me? I didn't actually have any alchemical bombs prepared, because there was no reason to. But...

maybe there was? Alchemical bombs defaulted to fire damage, naturally. I had already taken the Discovery where I could make Holy Water a Bomb, and use it for a material component... for extra damage for Acidic Spells. I almost face-palmed. That couldn't be it, right? It was too obvious... Yes, it was too obvious. Using Alchemical Bombs like alchemical fire, which could give additional damage to fire spells, had been tried and wasn't possible. Except with Holy Water and Acid spells. Good Acid Spells.

Class Feature, Bomb Discovery: Alchemical Discovery, Blessed Bombs. My Bombs could now do Sacred damage to Evil creatures... Purchased Feat, Bottled Ooze. I could use bits of an ooze, empower them to short life after throwing them out in bottles... Almost like throwing out a Summoned Monster. When the time was up, it simply decayed to dust and slime. If that wasn't responding to the last twenty-four hours and the hundreds of the damn things I'd killed, I didn't know what was.

It was like the Shroud was shaking its head at me for not stopping to take samples. Purchased Mastery, Extra Bombs/5, for +6 total bombs. Which were all potentially damage kickers for Good spells!... Okay, this was DEFINITELY something I was going to be testing out, if only to see how big a boom it generated. It should fall right under Creation Theurgy, it was just that no one had ever tried to see if the Good aspect was a transitive element that made it possible... Damn!

Okay, the Shroud knew some things we hadn't known. Just how was I going to let ol' Aelryinth and his original crew of folks know? I definitely had to send all this back to my progenitor, and really let something get the what-for... Ah, there was that attitude. That feral, intelligent, cold and fiery, passionate and calculating, mindset of territorialism and necessary aggression of a Human/3. Giving me +1 level of Wizard, to /4, Faux 13, and +2 to Charisma.