Chapter LVIII

  Adar had to admit that the view from the top of JustCraig’s Peak was simply, breathtaking. He could see an impressive distance, the vast forest spreading out at the base of the climb. It looked like a massive green carpet stretching until it met the blue of the sky—or rather, the red of the sky, as it was now tinged with the colors of the setting sun.

  Behind him, the mountains that bordered the pteau began to emerge, the very same pteau that culminated in this lofty peak.

  The climb to this point had been exhausting, but fortunately, without mishaps. Adar had no doubt that this was thanks to the undead mule. The way the creature intimidated wildlife was still both impressive and frustrating. On one hand, it deterred the more aggressive animals from appearing and causing trouble.

  Unfortunately, it also scared off any potential game they might hunt to bolster their food supplies. As a result, it had been quite some time since Adar had tasted fresh meat.

  In the end, though, Adar had to regard the situation as a positive one. They couldn’t deny the safety that the ironically undead creature provided during their travels.

  This thought even led Adar to muse about how amusing it was that most animals quickly realized the mule’s true nature. In contrast, he couldn’t recall a single human who had figured out what the creature really was. Looking at the impassive mule, he thought that perhaps it was due to the new rexed attitude the animal seemed to have adopted. Before the mule’s death, it had been stubborn but cked this peculiar demeanor.

  “Wow, fantastic,” said Seres in a voice full of wonder, apparently sharing Adar’s impression.

  “Yes, it really looks like a scene straight out of a cutscene,” Nero commented.

  “What!?” Seres and Adar excimed simultaneously.

  “Nothing, never mind,” Nero quickly responded, pulling himself away from the ndscape as if trying to dismiss the moment. He began walking away without so much as a gnce at the others, saying, “Let’s go—we need to set up camp before nightfall.”

  By now, both Adar and even Seres understood that Nero was mostly trying to steer the conversation away from a topic that didn’t interest him. And at least for Adar, there wasn’t much reason to press him further.

  To Adar, Nero being Nero was the simplest way to define this. He was a powerful, competent, and dangerous necromancer who also happened to be a grumpy and irritable bastard. Occasionally, he would say things that were incomprehensible, whether because they were bizarre or tied to forbidden forgotten knowledge. Either way, Adar and Seres rarely understood him, and Nero was only occasionally inclined to expin himself.

  Watching the necromancer walk-off was a clear indication that this wasn’t one of those times.

  Besides, the guy was right. It was time to focus on setting up camp. Luckily, they were all well-accustomed to the routine. By "they," Adar meant himself and Seres, as the necromancer—despite helping a bit more recently—still left most of the work to the two of them.

  It didn’t take them long to find a clearing a few minutes from JustCraig’s Peak, where they began setting up camp.

  While collecting firewood, they noticed smoke and lights in the distance from their chosen campsite.

  “I think it’s an inn…” Adar told the others.

  “It looks like there’s a road nearby. And it seems someone built an inn here to serve travelers,” Adar expined further.

  “Do you think anyone will bother us?” Nero asked. The real question, of course, was whether someone might discover the mule’s true nature and, by extension, their status as necromancers.

  Looking at Seres, Adar considered the question before answering, “Probably not.” said Seres.

  Adar nodded in agreement as Seres continued, “Even at our inn…” Both Seres and Adar paused, gauging Nero’s reaction to the mention of their old inn. Fortunately, Nero didn’t seem upset. Merely waiting for Seres to continue.

  “… from time to time, people would camp nearby, unwilling to spend money to stay with us. And we pretended they weren’t there,” Seres expined. “So, they probably won’t bother us.”

  “Yes, exactly as Seres said,” Adar confirmed, backing up his friend.

  “Fine, all right,” Nero replied, scratching his head as he mulled over their reasoning. “But let’s be careful not to draw too much attention.”

  He ended the discussion by turning to the mule and instructing it, “Make some noise if anyone unknow approaches.” The mule simply stared at the necromancer, but none of them doubted it would obey its creator’s order.

  With this settled, they went back to their life.

  It wasn’t until night had fully fallen and they’d eaten something that a new problem arose. That problem was his fool of a friend, Seres, starting to cast spells as if he had nothing better to do.

  After hearing “The st light of magic” half a dozen times, Adar finally shook off his surprise and confronted Seres.

  “Seres, Seres, what the hell are you doing?” Adar asked, gncing around at the four glowing orbs of light illuminating their camp—light that would surely be visible from a considerable distance in the darkness.

  “Me?” Seres replied, looking at Adar with a serious expression before calmly answering, “I’m just doing what Nero told me to do.”

  Hearing this, Adar turned to the necromancer, who also looked confused. Without Adar saying anything, Nero shrugged and shook his head, indicating he had no idea what Seres was talking about.

  This led Adar to return his focus to Seres, wondering what his friend was talking about. He hadn’t heard Nero give any such command, and he doubted the necromancer would issue such a ridiculous order. “Seres, what are you talking about?”

  Seres adopted a grave expression, as he began to expin calmly, “Well, when we were in the mines, Nero got annoyed with me when my spell failed a few times.”

  Adar listened, nodding in agreement. It was only natural for the necromancer to get frustrated if Seres had repeatedly botched his magic when it was needed.

  “So, he told me I had to practice this spell and that I was forbidden from even trying another spell until I could cast it five times in a row,” Seres continued, his expression resembling that of a chastised puppy.

  Adar had to admit that Nero’s punishment made sense. If Seres was failing at such a basic spell, he needed to practice. But why on earth was Seres training now?

  “This is the first chance I’ve had to cast it calmly,” Seres expined, preempting Adar’s unasked question. “So I’m doing it now, and I’ll have time to recover, my magic, while I sleep.”

  This led Adar to gnce at Nero, who was staring at Seres with wide eyes, clearly displeased with the situation. Feeling more than a little amused, Adar shot the necromancer a look that said, “Well, now fix the mess you created.”

  Nero turned to Seres and said, “Dude, you should practice, in the morning.”

  Seres, however, replied without hesitation, “Yes, but then I’d spend part of the day with little or no magic. If I needed to cast a spell, I wouldn’t be able to.”

  Nero’s jaw dropped. In a way, Seres wasn’t entirely wrong. And the necromancer seemed unwilling to point out that a light spell was hardly useful during the day.

  Adar couldn’t help but let out a small ugh at Nero’s frustration.

  This earned him a sharp gre from Nero. “What are you ughing at? You need to train even more than that idiot.”

  Adar looked at Nero, and, knowing it was a bad idea, gathered his courage, extended a hand, and decred, “The st light of magic.”

  As expected, his spell failed. Nero had been right—Adar really did need more training than Seres. But the necromancer’s expression at seeing him try the spell in the middle of the night was priceless.

  As the two exchanged gnces, Seres’s voice rang out again: “The st light of magic,” accompanied by yet another glowing orb.

  Nero let out an exasperated sigh, shook his head slightly, and turned to Adar. “Are you done now?”

  The question was a challenge, daring Adar to keep pissing him off. Fortunately, Adar wasn’t foolish enough to push his luck. So he says again: “The st light of magic.”

  This time, however, he felt slightly embarrassed when his spell failed once more. The first time had been funny. Now, surrounded by the growing number of light orbs Seres had conjured, he felt ridiculous.

  To make matters worse, all the light allowed him to clearly see the small smirk that appeared on Nero’s face.

  This only spurred Adar to keep training. This time, he succeeded in casting the spell. He had to admit—it felt good to succeed with his magic.

  And so, they continued for a few more minutes until Nero began shaking his head again. The necromancer seemed to have remembered that casting light spells so close to the inn wasn’t the best idea.

  But, to Adar’s amusement, the mage seemed unsure of the best way to put an end to this. The campsite became a sea of light, perhaps even brighter than daytime.

  However, it was then that Nero’s expression grew hard, and he excimed, “What in the world are you doing here?”

  This made both Adar and Seres turn around to see where Nero was looking.

  There, he saw a beautiful young woman with long, dark hair, dressed in elegant and noble attire. In contrast to the humble clothes, she had worn the st time they had seen her.

  For his part, Seres cried out, “Sorana!!”