The misadventures of the necromancer

Adar dropped heavily into the chair, almost with a crash, as they waited. In front of him, Nero gave him a critical look while calmly taking his own seat, which left Adar somewhat embarrassed. To hide it, he looked around the inn, filled with the sounds of conversations and chairs scraping across the floor.

Nero, meanwhile, continued to observe him carefully.

Unable to do anything about that, Adar decided instead to distract himself by considering how well the past few days had gone—and how that fact had not reassured him as it should have.

The city had proven calm and quite welcoming. The absence of major problems meant the guards seemed to exist more for show than anything else—well, that and probably to collect taxes.

In any case, they had encountered no real difficulties. Only a few questions about where they were from and what they wanted in the city—something Adar had easily deflected by drawing attention to the baby and to how Saca’s clan had been destroyed, forcing them to seek refuge in Pinetop.

Thanks to the guards—who, upon hearing the story, proved immensely cooperative—they had been directed to where they could find a house. While the girls were sent toward the market, where several women usually gathered.

In the end, both groups succeeded in their respective missions.

Nero and Adar had managed to obtain a house outside the city walls. The only unfortunate point was that they had to buy the house instead of renting it. So if they needed to leave quickly, they would lose everything they had spent on it. Fortunately, it had cost only one gold coin and four large silver pieces—not a fantastic price, and one they could live with losing even if not happily.

The house itself turned out to be quite pleasant: a central room where they could cook, and three smaller rooms they decided to use as bedrooms. Besides that, there was a large vegetable garden, since the place had previously been a small farm that grew produce to sell in the city.

After some effort, Adar had finally managed to get the sellers to reveal why it was being sold for such a price. The family had inherited the house, but mainly lived inside the city where they ran shops. That—and the land had been under constant attack by animals, a variety of rodents and birds that were devastating the fields, making life miserable for anyone renting the property.

When they learned that, Nero and Adar had exchanged amused glances. Pests would not bother them—not with the mule. They only had to let the undead wander around the garden like a normal animal, and no creature would dare come close to the undead.

What worried Adar was that when they had all visited the house before finalizing the purchase, Nero had looked over the surrounding landscape until he revealed he more or less recognized the region.

When Adar asked directly if there was a problem, Nero had simply said that probably not—the only thing he remembered was some old tunnels that led nowhere.

Still, they bought the house and were already planning to start planting when the weather allowed it. Unfortunately, that would take a few months, once the temperature began to rise.

On the other hand, the girls had also managed to find a wet nurse for the baby. A woman named Esther, mother of four children, who was weaning her youngest and—fortunately—still had milk.

Nobles would have taken the woman into their home. But in their case, that was not an option. Their house was too remote, and they had far too many things to hide. So the child stayed with Esther, and Saca visited her house every day to see her brother and help the woman with daily tasks.

Normally, the wet nurse would be a servant, but in their case, she was the one being served, and she was also paid. Fortunately, that made the service quite cheap, and the woman assured them she likely wouldn’t be needed for more than a year.

Sena had also committed to working to earn some money to help with expenses, and they had been doing a few extra jobs as well. This eased Adar’s worries about money quite a bit—almost foolishly so, since the amount they still had was considerable.

They were practically rich.

Still, it was better to be careful.

Which was why he and Nero were now sitting in this inn waiting for Sena to finish her work here so they could go meet Saca and return to their new house.

Not that they didn’t believe in the girls’ independence. In the clan they once belonged to, they surely weren’t escorted everywhere. But walking alone—especially a long distance outside the city or even within it—well, everyone knew that two-legged animals tended to be more dangerous than the others, particularly for young girls.

There was no reason to take unnecessary risks.

It was then that he noticed Nero no longer seemed interested in him. Instead, he had turned toward another nearby table, where a group of men were talking about something.

A middle-aged man with brown hair and some white hair appeared to be telling a story while the others listened attentively.

“And then, after Berta convinced the local lords, she gathered forty brave men among the hunters of her village and the warriors of the lords… and they entered the tower that would lead them deep into ruin itself.”

He paused briefly, studying the men around the table.

Adar wondered why Nero was interested.

Looking back at him, the necromancer indeed seemed to be listening carefully. Which felt strange—there was no shortage of stories about people venturing into the ruins scattered across the continent.

“The battle proved even more terrible than anything they imagined. It lasted an entire month!” the man continued.

Adar doubted that somewhat. Keeping that many people inside a ruin for that long seemed unlikely. What would they be eating and drinking?

“But in the end, Berta and the ten other survivors emerged victorious from the Old Towers, managing to prevent the Outbreak of monsters inside, leading to the devastation of the surrounding lands.”

Now Adar was intrigued too—apart from Nero, he had never heard anyone talk about Outbreaks from ruins.

“Who would have thought… the girl actually did it,” Nero suddenly said, drawing Adar’s attention back to him.

Apparently noticing his confusion, Nero clarified:

“The girl near Twin Peaks.”

That didn’t help much, so Nero continued.

“The girl I met when that Old Hag tried to attack us.”

For a moment, Adar was still confused—until he remembered the creature that had looked like an old woman. Fortunately, the mule and the necromancer had not been fooled, and Nero had used his spell that created skeletons to pursue the creature.

When they had reunited, Nero had told them he had met a villager who made him realize a nearby ruin might be close to an outbreak. The first time Adar or Seres had ever heard such a thing was possible.

Because of that, Nero had made them leave the area as quickly as possible.

The only other time Adar had heard of such a thing was when they left Inverten and Nero revealed that the destruction of that city had been caused by exactly one such event—clearly explaining why they should fear it.

If even a city like that could be destroyed…

Adar didn’t even want to think further.

Which brought him back to the present.

“So, that Berta…” he began, wanting to ask more.

But he was interrupted by a cheerful voice:

“I’m done!”

Sena appeared beside him.

Adar stood so they could leave, thinking they could continue the conversation outside—or maybe only when they were well away from curious ears.

But as he turned toward Sena, an arm suddenly appeared from behind her, wrapping around her in a tight embrace as an unfamiliar voice said:

“Hello, beauty. Where are you going?”

Behind her stood a very large man, bald, his scalp reflecting the streetlight entering through the door, with a grin hidden behind a large bushy mustache.

Beside him stood a thinner man with long brown hair and a scar across his face.

“Yeah, you can’t leave now,” the scarred man said. “The fun’s just about to start.”

Behind them stood another dark-haired man whom Adar couldn’t see well.

“Let me go!!!” Sena shouted, trying to free herself. But the man was clearly too strong and held her too well.

“Please, gentlemen,” Adar said. “My friend has just finished her shift. Surely there must be another maid who can serve you.”

The inn was beginning to grow quiet.

“You two can leave. We’ll stay here with her,” the scarred man said mockingly.

“Yeah. You can have her back tomorrow,” the third man added. “After we’ve had our fun.”

Making three burst out laughing.

Only the man holding Sena stopped laughing quickly when she managed to drive a solid elbow into him.

What intrigued Adar was that they seemed to be addressing Nero, who remained seated without reacting—just observing them.

“Please…” Adar began again, trying to think of a solution. He had some experience handling similar situations.

It was just that usually, the people who did things like this were drunk.

But these men were completely sober.

And they only had eyes for Nero.

“Are you sure this is what you want?” Nero asked in his usual bored voice.

Adar felt the worst possible scenario was about to unfold. And one that he can't see how to avoid, because Nero can stop this. While leaving Sena with these men isn't an option.

Behind him, he heard a soft murmur and a chair scraping along the floor.

The necromancer had stood up—and likely cast the spell that made him more resistant.

Adar imagined what would follow.

Nero would make a sarcastic remark about the men. Then, threaten them if they don’t release Sena.

Then he would demonstrate he was a mage—perhaps setting a table on fire or something like that.

Normally, that was how things went, until the day someone really pisses off Nero, and he turns the world into a bonfire.

Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. Faced with flames, the men would retreat. The only consequence would be revealing Nero was a mage. That would attract some attention—more than they liked—but at least it wouldn’t reveal what kind of mage he was.

At least that was Adar's best hope.

But suddenly, the man holding Sena released her and shoved her toward Adar.

Even Sena looked surprised as Adar caught her before they both fell.

The reason for the man’s action became clear immediately when the necromancer passed by Adar.

Nero had thrown himself at the man, striking him in the chest.

The punch seemed to have no effect—which, considering the difference in size between the two, made sense. The man's companions began to laugh.

The bald man retaliated with a punch meant to knock Nero down immediately.

But to everyone’s surprise—especially those who had never seen the necromancer’s abilities—it completely failed.

Worse for him, it allowed Nero to follow up with a kick.

The effect was obvious.

Every man watching instinctively grabbed their own groin in sympathetic pain as the bald man collapsed to the floor, clutching his masculinity.

The scarred man only shouted:

“You bastard!!!”

He suddenly produced a knife and lunged at Nero.

Nero calmly stepped toward him and extended one hand, grabbing the blade itself.

Instead of simply taking the knife away, like usual, he grabbed the man’s arm with his other hand and, using his whole body, threw him over his shoulder.

Finally, Nero turned toward the last man.

The man looked around nervously, paying close attention to the crowd on the other side of the inn. Nero visibly followed his gaze.

Then Nero opened the hand that held the knife and let it fall to the ground.

The blade stuck upright into the wooden floor.

“Do you want to continue?” Nero asked coldly, with a cold smile that Adar didn't need to see to know it was there.

The silence in the room was broken only by a weak groan from the bald man as he struggled to stand.

“Let’s go… the bastard’s tougher than they said!”

Casting glances past Nero, the three men slowly left the inn.

Adar and Sena moved beside Nero.

From him, they heard a calm, icy comment:

“Interesting.”

“Nero…” Sena began hesitantly.

Nero let out what Adar would describe as a cheerful laugh, placed his hands on his hips, and loudly declared:

“Oh, you know you don’t need to worry. Those three would hardly be opponents for me.”

The room erupted in laughter and applause.

But Adar—and perhaps Sena as well—felt even more worried.

This boastful tone was not Nero at all.

The man was irritable, arrogant, and annoying—but not a braggart, certainly not in such a simple way.

“Come on,” Nero continued loudly. “I still want to stop by the enchanter… I have some questions to ask.”

Adar was growing more confused.

If there was something almost magical about Nero besides his magic, it was the way he made people listen. Normally, he lowered his voice rather than raised it—making people lean in to hear him.

For a moment, Adar even wondered if the man before him was truly the necromancer.

Until Nero looked directly at him and tilted his head toward the exit.

His calm, cold eyes revealed this was still Nero.

And he was preparing for something.

“Yes… yes. Let’s go, Sena,” Adar said, urging her to move.

Whatever Nero was preparing for—

It had to be serious.

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