42 『Talent Acquisition』 (1/2)
”Who dares disturb my ritual, that I've worked five years to complete!?” A voice of a madman spoke aloud, soon showing his red cloak and golden amulet, was a sickly pale man with a black orb tucked under his arm.
”Perhaps it can take another five years...?” Vertum let out a soft snicker and shook his head.
They were nothing more than a bunch of humans, none of them even seemed to be remotely similar to a Lich or an undead mage. They were going to be easy.
”Who do you think you are!?” The being shouted aloud, pointing his palm towards the man.
Though right as he was about to cast a spell, Vertum vanished into thin air. Teleporting out of the lesser being's line of sight, the self-proclaimed Emperor, reappeared on the other side of the Mausoleum's main chamber.
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”You're going to have to do better than that,” Vertum spoke, causing the man to turn on his heel, yet once more he was gone. He wasn't staying still!
”Where did he...” A hand flatly rested on his shoulder, but before he or the orb could register what was going on a clenched fist traveled directly through the man's back and emerged outside his chest cavity. The epic sound of snapping and breaking of bones simultaneously echoing throughout the chamber.
Khajiit didn't even have time to summon the bone dragon beneath his feet to protect himself.
Vertum wasn't going to play with needless prey. He could see the horror on the man's face as he turned his head to see the owner of the hand which was protruding from his chest.
”My name is Vertum, your name is unimportant,” his voice harsh the dragon would withdraw his hand from the dying man's chest and swipe the orb from his hands.
'You are powerful, but you are no m--' The being was using telepathy to breach into his mind, but in mid-sentence, Vertum crushed the orb in his hand.
”Having Intelligence doesn't give you the right to speak in my mind,” The dragon huffed as he turned towards the other members of the Necromancer Band. ”Now, who wants to die...”
Outside the Mausoleum, Adventurers were attacking and killing zombies and various undead at the front gate. The very few that he had inadvertently left behind in order to reach the Mausoleum.
From a distance they could see the flashing of spells, a fire ball even escaping the front door which was partially opened with a woman pinned to it.
It was clear there was a battle going on, and it was one sided. Screams of terror, horror and panic could be heard. The spells of tiers below seventh were useless against him, and they were finding this out excessively quick.
”No!” Shouts emanated from the crypt. Though there was no one here who could or would help them. They were outlaws, evil beings who wanted to destroy the City in order to create a Lich.
”You will all die here...” A voice eerily left the Dragon's lips as he was using the walls of the crypt as springboards. Pushing off over and over again, he picked each necromancer off one by one.
Blocking him with their staves, he broke through their worthless weapons with his draconic strength alone. Tearing them limb from limb, it was a slaughter, a one sided massacre.
As the last Necromancer went running for the door, he reached into his item box, pulling out another mid-ranked military cleaver made of Adamantite and threw it after him. The monstrous blade caught the man in the back of the neck, picking him up into the air briefly, before impaling him into the floor face first with such immense force.
His eyes then drifted over towards the young man who stood there, motionlessly, in the center of the crypt. A frown ambiently taking over Vertum's lips as he approached the boy.
”Hello... Nfirea... Was it?” Vertum recalled when he first encountered the girls in the forest, how they spoke of this man. He was their friend, which made him shake his head, a smile crept across his lips.
There was no response from the boy wearing the crown.
Reaching a hand over the boy's head, he used a silent spell to appraise the item, causing it to light up green in the process. ”Huh... That would be a terrible fate... Wouldn't it?” Referring to the effects of the fancy looking crown, he chuckled to himself.
If he removed this crown, the boy's mind would pretty much fold in on itself, metaphorically. He'd quite literally become a vegetable, and Vertum remembered in his 'past life' how he had never wanted to live if he were to go into that state.
”Good thing I won't leave you to become easy 'food' for the dead...” Vertum lowered his hand before drawing his staff from his item box, his eyes not leaving the boy in a transparent dress.
He didn't hesitate in stabbing the staff directly into the side of the male's abdomen, he watched as their was no reaction. There was no reason him to have any sympathies, his grandmother was dead, there was no family left. No one to mourn him except those who would never know his fate.
『Devour』
With that spell cast, the boy's body contorted and crushed in on itself as it was absorbed. He could feel all of the boy's memories racing through his mind, his knowledge of potions, his thoughts. The crown had practically turned the boy into an obedient puppet and medium for ritualistic spells.
Once the body had vanished, the crown decorated the floor. Kneeling down as he sifted through the boy's knowledge of potions, he nodded to himself, and took the crown to place into his item box.