Chapter 11: Fort Sky (2/2)

“I gave you my name. I am a caster specialized in black magic. Beyond that, I would prefer to maintain my identity secret.”

“What were you doing in the dead zone?”

“I appeared there following a long-range teleportation accident.”

This part was technically true. The fact that the word ‘teleportation’ existed in Old Imperial informed her that it was a possibility. Solfis did not object to her improvised cover story so it had to make sense, somehow.

Those were the only two questions that she answered in full. As for the rest, Solfis made scathing answers to some of the other lines of inquiries and the look of embarrassment on Cernit’s face indicated that he had stepped out of line. Or at least, the line as understood by Solfis.

Viv did not want to undermine the golem’s authority, but she used a lull in the conversation to ask him what this was all about.

//He asked about your path and casting capabilities, Your Grace.

Viv was reclining on her seat, hand playing with a small piece of jerky. She flipped it to Arthur, who snagged it and swallowed it in one gulp. The dragonette locked eyes with the trio and licked her chops.

Intimidation reached Beginner 2

Intimidation reached Beginner 3

“Ask him why he wants to know.”

Solfis relayed her words, and she waited as the leader answered.

And waited.

And waited.

The knight talked for at least ten minutes, with Solfis urging him on and asking additional questions.

//Your grace, this man’s tale is long.

Solfis’ tone was equal parts condescending and impatient.

//This unit believes that he is one of the worthless fleshbags considered expendable and sent here to act as an early warning system.

“And then reinforcements come?”

//This unit believes that this is not the case

“Harsh.”

//Sacrificing the few for the need of the many is a necessity when monsters can wipe out a kingdom in three days, Your Grace.

“If you say so. I fail to see how it relates to me.”

//Cernit claims that a necromancer has destroyed the two nearest forts.

“Hold it. A necromancer? As in, skulls and bones and bad breath and controlling the dead?”

//This unit already mentioned them, Your Grace.

”Oh yeah, sorry.”

//Do not worry, Your Grace.

Solfis’ voice drips with disdain.

“You make it sound like it is an inferior path, but Cernit obviously fears them.”

//Humans are fleshy and faillible.

That did sound enticing.

Solfis knew her too well. Sometimes, she felt that he was out for world domination and she was but a convenient patsy. She would have to go back to her world before it happened.

Going back to her world.

She had to do it, eventually. There were people waiting for her. The problem was that the longer she stayed here and the more bonds she was creating. There was already Arthur and Solfis, although she was sure they could manage without her.

There was also magic.

The power was still here, coursing through the strange non-organ that was her conduits. It was hers and she felt that she had been born for it. Every second she spent practicing tied her more deeply to the world.

Perhaps, one day, she would be tied too deeply.

//Resuming demonstration.

“That sounds like a terrible idea. We should just leave and keep going to the forest.”

//If I may, Your Grace, that might not be the best idea.

Viv physically recoiled in amazement as Solfis advocated placing her in danger.

“Are you serious? You want us to stay in this death trap?”

//You are thinking that the necromancer will besiege this place in an attempt to lay it to waste.

“Yes!”

//You are correct, Your Grace.

“You are going to have to be extremely convincing, Solfis.”

//Of course, Your Grace.

Viv gazed at the trio, who were politely waiting in front of her. The noble one was trying to follow the conversation without much success.

//Finally, we would be going blind and could possibly face monsters.

“Those are all maybes while the necromancer attack is a certainty, if what you say is correct.”

//Indeed, Your Grace.

A coin flip? Really?

At least, it was higher than her starting score of lower than 37%. There was hope for her yet.

//The reason why the number is low is because we will have no avenue of success in any of those scenarios.

“What are the benefits of staying?”

//One, we will be able to understand the general state of Param before traveling it.

//Seven, I now have a workable plan to build myself a battle-capable frame within two weeks, which will be implemented immediately.

“Assuming I survive it. Okay, but I see a few issues as well. First, how come there are no women here?”

Solfis asked, and she was informed that the rule was put into place after several incidents of sexual and plain violence. The garrisons were segregated by sex. One of the forts further along the defensive network was apparently operated entirely by women.

//Your concern is a serious one, Your Grace.

Solfis’ belief was built on flimsy foundations, but Viv had to admit that he knew the world better than her. She could also cast Bzzt from anywhere in her body with no gesture and without speaking, a serious defense considering the speed of the projectile.

“Are you certain that the garrison will not turn on me when they figure out I only cast dark spells?”

//On the contrary, Your Grace.

//Those mongrels will be terrified.

//You have little to fear from them.

“From them, yes, but what about the necromancer themself? This is all bullshit unless we can take them down.”

//Indeed, Your Grace, that foe is the crux of the problem.

//However, your own ability to take down even a gut spiller in moments helps us tremendously.

//Essentially, the cover of the fortification, your affinity, and the drain spell put you in a unique position to counter them efficiently.

//Cernit reports that the nearest fort had a fire lit for three days before burning down.

//This indicates a necromancer of middling power, as a powerful one would have felled the place in much less time.

//It will take a certain amount for the foe to come lay siege to our fort.

//They will need to herd a sufficient amount of revenants our way first.

//By then your training will have advanced and my frame will be almost finished.

“You seem confident that you can take them down, Solfis. I do not share that confidence.”

//Your Grace, this unit has killed a great amount of casters from many different paths.

//A basic frame will be enough to dispatch one.

“You really believe that this is for the best?”

//Yes.

Viv considered her options. Solfis would certainly agree to leave if push came to shove, but she saw little point in going against his advice for the sake of it. Solfis had saved her life. Several times. If he believed that this course of action offered better chances, she believed him. Their fates were tied, after all, and he had several hundred centuries of existence on her.

Solfis had influenced her decisions since the day they met, she realized. He still shaped her as he saw fit, and she allowed it with the belief that survival, and eventually a return to earth, would come from her own hand. This world was merciless. She had little faith that powerful archmages would simply accept her story and help her without exacting payment. Training for a few months would be worth the effort.

And the fact that she loved wielding magic and the feeling of power that came with it had little to do with it. Nope.

She had to admit that her reluctance came from disappointment. She had been looking forward to leaving the wastes, but now she would have to watch the green prize from the crenellations of this lone fort for a while longer.

In the end, it was practicality that convinced her to go with the plan. She had to survive first and foremost. Anything else was secondary.

Not that she would agree so freely, of course.

“Negotiate with them. I want my own quarters, enough food for Arthur, and identification papers or equivalent. And ask for a salary as well.”

//Excellent idea, Your Grace.

//I shall exploit your superior bargaining position to milk them for all that they are worth.

“Don’t make them too resentful, just ask for a fair treatment for a mercenary spellcaster. I am sure those exist.”

Negotiations went swimmingly. Cernit was poor, which she expected, and could only pay her with his own stipend which did not amount to much. His subordinates tried to share their salaries as well, but the proud man adamantly refused. He was obviously moved by their support, however, and Viv instantly placed him in her ‘honorable retard’ box alongside that handsome Faramir lad and anyone who had ever fancied doomed charges and heroic last stands.

To make up for the little money there was, the brave lieutenant bent himself over backwards to accommodate her other demands. She would get the room at the base of the tower, a room currently used as an officer’s mess slash storage room. She would receive enough dry meat to feed her pet ‘drake’, which they had in excess anyway after the previous garrison had lost half their numbers fending off a mutated undead bat. Cernit could produce a letter of recommendation that would get her recognized as a mercenary in the service of Barran after they were done. That sort of thing could open a lot of doors, mercenaries being a common sight in Param’s fragmented geopolitical environment.

Finally, he acknowledged that she was her own woman and that while she would help them fend off their foes, he could not order her around.

They shook hands on it. Viv’s employ as a mercenary witch had begun.