Chapter 238: Prelude to Destruction (2/2)
Emmanuel shook his head, ”Unfortunate, but we need information. Thoughts Jonathan? You have the most experience fighting the undead.”
Mike's Elemental Magic instructor flinched when his name came up. It looked like he'd been staring intensely at someone on the left side of the tent, but Mike couldn't see who. ”Ah...yes. We had a similar problem in the past, and we were never able to fully overcome it. Lacotian magic is known to be more advanced than ours, and only by beating them in terms of raw power could we hope to punch through their protections. That might be an option, considering our resources, but my recommendation is to bypass their countermeasures entirely, and visually inspect the enemy.”
Morris broke in. ”The parts of the army that are of interest to us are located near the center of their formation. Anyone attempting to lay eyes on them would have to pass through hundreds of thousands of their soldiers unseen. While they might be mindless undead, for the most part, we don't know what other security measures they have in place. Without that knowledge, it would be tantamount to a suicide mission.”
”Which is why I suggest we make use of summoned creatures that specialize in stealth. Melinda, one of our Summoning Magic instructors specializes in summoning fairies. A few of her more common choices would be ideal for this mission.”
Emmanuel nodded, ”Good. Have her get started on it as soon as possible. We'll need a solid idea of what we are facing.”
Jonathan saluted and headed out, casting one last look over his shoulder at the left side of the tent, eyes roaming for something, but ultimately not finding it.
”Now, how far away are the Lacotians?” Emmanuel asked once he'd gone.
”According to our latest reports, they are currently located here,” Morris pointed at a portion of the map roughly a dozen kilometers away from the encampment. ”They are advancing slowly for some reason, but at their current rate of movement, we anticipate they will be arriving here a little after dawn.”
”That doesn't give us much time, but its more than I expected. Does anyone know the reason for their slower march? Is something impeding them?”
Asterion stepped forward, and gave a polite bow to the assembly, ”If I may be so bold, I have a theory about that.”
He waited for a few seconds until he'd received an impatient 'go on' gesture from Emmanuel.
”Considering the amount of energy required to create and maintain an army of that size, it seems probable that they are attempting to conserve their power prior to the initial assault. Moving slower would reduce the overall demands.”
[So animated undead require additional energy to sustain them? Something about that doesn't sit right.] Mike thought to himself. There was an odd element to the elf's explanation, but he couldn't quite place it. He felt his concerns solidify when he noticed Edgar's face contorting into something approaching a pained grimace. Obviously, he was contending with some pretty serious emotional turmoil.
Deciding to get a second opinion, he sidled around the crowd, angling to get near the dhampyr while the conversation moved on.
”Is that so? Then I suppose we can count our blessings. In any event, show me where our troops are currently allocated. I haven't had a chance to survey the defenses, but this fort looks sturdy enough from the inside.”
Mike tuned out the rest, suspecting that it would devolve into tedious logistical discussions. He moved up close enough to whisper to Edgar, and asked quietly, ”What's the matter? It looks like you've swallowed something sour.”
The dhampyr jumped and let out an awkward squeak that was thankfully too quiet to do much more than annoy a few of their neighbors. ”Ah! Mike, I didn't see you there.”
”Sorry about that. Wasn't trying to sneak up on you.”
”Its alright,” Edgar replied once he'd calmed his breathing down.
”So what's wrong?” Mike pressed.
”Ah...well, its...nothing...really.” As bad as that explanation was, the way Edgar twisted his fingers together and avoided looking him in the eyes betrayed the lie even before he started speaking.
Trying to keep his face straight, Mike pushed a little harder. ”Really? you didn't think there was something wrong with what Instructor Asterion said? You can tell me. We're friends, right?”
There was a few moments of indecision, before the dhampyr finally started speaking. ”He's a lot more experienced with Divine Magic, so I'm sure he know better than I...its just...”
”Just what?”
Edgar looked down, almost as if he was ashamed of calling out the elf on his claims, ”...From what I know about necromancy, their is no real energy requirement to keep them moving, at least so long as you animated them properly the first time. All you have to do is create a minor mana repository affixed to their corporeal form, and it should refill naturally. I'm not so sure about incorporeal undead though...”
Mike ignored the dhampyr as he lapsed into necromantic theory, mind racing with possibilities. A feeling of dread was slowly coiling in the pit of his stomach. He interrupted Edgar's monologue with a question. ”If that's the case, why would Asterion think otherwise. Isn't he the University's expert on undead or something to that effect?”
”Hmm, I guess? I think most Divine Mages can animate the undead, although I don't think they do it very much...or at all, really. Its kind of frowned upon.” He sagged slightly, ”That's part of the reason why I was brought here. Since I'm the only necromancer in the University, including the faculty, they thought I might be handy to have around.”
[If a junior necromancer who's just barely begun his training is capable of creating animated corpses that don't have additional mana requirements, then surely the Lacotians can do the same. That means they slowed down for some other reason. Why would they want to delay their arrival until daylight? Wouldn't it benefit them to attack at night, when the majority of our forces are effectively blind? Unless...]
Suddenly it all fell together in his head, and he rounded on the table where the leaders of the army were still debating details. ”Its a ruse! The Lacotians aren't going slowly because they want to conserve energy. They are planning to-”
He was interrupted by the sound of a horn, long and low, which rose from the west side of camp.
”What's that signal mean?” Emmanuel demanded.
Morris started running out of the tent, only taking a moment to yell back over his shoulder. ”It means we're under attack!”