***
Irem, the lost city, was located in the southern part of the Klippenrand Peninsula, according to Teuflisch. Considering the lack of roads and the Behemoth, by our estimate, it would take about half a year to reach it.
What complicated matters the most was the provision. I, by virtue of my existence, didn't really need much food; whatever little I did need, I could simply scavenge. The same couldn't be said about Teuflisch; unlike me, he needed three meals a day.
Luckily, he had his own little farm and knew preservation spells, not to mention that he was aware of the difficulty, and was specifically building a supply of food for himself here throughout the last year. That, and some food we hunted around, by our estimate, should suffice for a trip there and back, provided we scavenged whenever we could.
The transportation of the Vigil was a more pressing matter and another complication. The truth was - Teuflisch, nor any other mortal necromancer, could hope to keep all of them active all the time. All of those undead were incredibly high-quality and, as such, required exceptional maintenance. Partially simple daily infusions of energy, and partially a more complex, enchanting work to support the existing spell structures that animated and composed them. Teuflisch can comfortably have two of the Vigil constructs around himself, while still having twenty or so of his normal minions active. That way, he had enough time to maintain them all and enough mana not to run himself dry.
While inactive, Vigil required minimal maintenance, so he could activate his small private army at any time when needed; it just wasn't ideal to do so, as it would take him a few days to bring them back up to speed after even a minor battle. Hence, it was best not to involve Vigil when not necessary.
The inactive constructs could be transported on the cart he had; he asked me to fashion a few more golems to drag it, to split the drain on mana between the two of us - I didn't mind.
While the journals of Teuflisch's master and his old maps would help us navigate towards Irem, it was obvious that the journey would be treacherous. Monsters weren't the main concern, at least not in the first half of our journey; other humans were barely present in those lands, so the main issue was, plain and simple, the terrain. Which would never have troubled me on foot, but Behemoth created unusual complications even I wasn't used to yet.
That said, the deeper into the peninsula, the more powerful monsters we were expected to encounter. This brought up the question of training, specifically, for Teuflisch, as we can't pull out his army at every inconvenience.
Which, naturally, led us here.
I studied the spell in front of me. Then, shook my head in disappointment.
"Again."
The man complied, even if he looked genuinely winded by this point already. Once again, I felt the fluctuations in his mana as he slowly started to work, and in a few seconds, another attempt at a spell was made.
"I don't get it," Teuflisch said, gesturing towards the translucent golden shield. "It's the same as yours, no?"
"Not quite," I denied, conjuring the spell correctly, "Can you spot the difference?"
The necromancer seemingly made an honest attempt to do just that before shaking his head in disappointment.
I could see some frustration on his face.
Still, the fact that he couldn't feel or see anything surprised me. To my mana sense, the distinction couldn't be more obvious. But then again, most human mages didn't develop their mana sense to the point where they could rival or surpass monsters.
"It's the rotational speed," I explained quietly, placing my finger on a static-looking shield, nail first, and pressing said nail against the shield, letting it scrape against it. Just so he can hear the sound of friction, it immediately started to emit. The yellow colour of the shield and its transparent nature made the rotation seamless otherwise. "You rotate it too, as I instructed, but far too slowly. But even aside from that..." I pulled my hand back, conjuring the absurdly sharp ice-needle.
It seemingly penetrated the shield, jammed, and with screeches and sparks, blew away in pieces, even as the shield broke apart.
I then gestured towards the Teuflisch shields, launching a second long, spear-like needle. With a sound like breaking glass, it easily penetrated the shield and pierced through the tree behind it.
Teuflisch looked shocked for a moment before his brows furrowed; he was clearly starting to think rather hard.
"I see, so that's why there are two layers to this shield spell. One rotates clockwise, the other, behind it, anti-clockwise…" He shook his head, "But the speeds involved must be absurd!"
He was correct, of course.
"Think of each layer of the barrier as a rotating gear in the clock," I demonstrated to him both of my palms as I started pressing them together. "They interact like this," I started twisting both of my hands in opposite directions, as far as my joints allowed, "But they don't touch each other. Any projectile that penetrated the first layer will inevitably gain some of its momentum, some of its spin, which means instead of straight up penetrating the second barrier, it will strike it at an angle. This will be sharply counteracted by the second layer, which moves even faster, jamming the object between two rotating plates, having the momentum of both act against it in opposite directions. The result..." I gestured towards the pieces of popsicles all around, "Most physical attacks will either be crushed or redirected anti-clockwise."
The necromancer shook his head.
"This isn't the Goldene Grenze spell from the grimoire," He complained, seemingly almost to himself.
"It is," I insisted, "The area of the barrier may be smaller, and you cast two of them at once, with an additional positional and acceleration template." I even attached those changes to the grimoire I supplied him. And I excluded that combination of weave that changed the colour to blue, that I introduced purely so that whatever sentient opponents I had would have more trouble recognizing the spell, "Fundamentally, still the same spell. Just built upon and improved for a specific purpose. The issue with the normal version of the spell is that it doesn't prevent you from getting hit by anything with more penetrating power than a normal arrow. It's too brittle; it merely saps some of the energy out of the attack." Which, to be fair, was the point of the spell. It was originally intended to be a supplementary magic to other defensive magic you cast.
Teuflisch looked exasperated. I understood that sentiment. Annoyance at something not obvious, his own lack of skill at combat magic, and likely a sense that he doesn't need to get good at it to begin with.
"Albert, I said I need a couple of spells just to protect myself! As a last resort! Not be trained in complicated defensive magic." He took a pause, glancing aside and shaking my head. "Sorry, I don't mean to sound ungrateful, but... is any of this..." He gestured to the small training ground around us, "Truly necessary?"
I considered his question for a moment.
Was it?
"The modified version of Goldene Grenze is a version of the spell I developed myself, as the universal spell against monsters," I explained slowly, "Monsters tend to have a variety of magics and abilities, you can never know what you will encounter. This spell will buy you a second against any surprises. Most projectiles will shatter or be thrown off-course, most physical attacks will rebound, and most magics, likewise, will be mostly dispersed. This is the purpose of the spell and why it's my most commonly utilized defensive spell," I explained simply and to the point.
I took a moment to compose my thoughts some more.
"We both agreed that there are constructs in your Vigil that can cast impressive defensive spells, and that you should have those active all the time. For the most part, that alone will give you enough protection." I shook my head, "But all kinds of things can happen on the battlefield. Unexpected circumstances that neither of us can quite picture."
I simply met Teuflisch's eyes.
"We have half a year until we reach Irem, where anything can await us. Properly mastering defensive magic before that point is doable for a talented and skilled mage like you, and being able to use spells such as this is the most helpful thing I can think of for your survival." I tilted my head, "Besides, this is precisely the kind of spell you asked me to teach. It can be cast in a fraction of a second and protect you from the vast majority of attacks."
This spell was inspired by the so-called 'ordinary defensive magic' of the era to come.
A short-lived magical barrier that was supposed to be created just before the attack connected, and either stop or redirect it. I knew this spell was likely much less durable than the one humans would come up with to no-sell Zoltraak, but the barriers this spell conjured were, by design, created to break in a way that would help cancel the attack. They also lasted for a while without draining your mana, and, as far as I was aware, were cheaper to actualize. This wasn't quite a new spell, merely an extensive modification. Absolutely every combat mage that had any skills of note amongst the adventurers did things like that, customizing their tools for themselves.
The necromancer awkwardly raised his hand.
"I have a question..." He seemed embarrassed by the gesture a second later, and shook his head before continuing, "I've been thinking and… won't that stone-shield spell you were using be more useful? It seems far more durable, especially if you raise... well, enough of them."
This was a very interesting question to ask. I forget sometimes that despite how competent Teuflisch is in magic, the combat aspect of it seems to have mostly escaped him. Not just the practical aspect of it, but even the philosophy of combat magic's design and 'common sense'.
"You need over a second to create an Erdschild, modified or otherwise," I explained simply, "And you can't move from under it, it's stationary. It will also obstruct the terrain. More complicated to use, and it serves a different purpose..."
This won't do it, I suddenly realized.
I need to actually explain from the start.
For a few moments, I was silent, looking ahead of me as I was thinking how to start this, then I spoke up.
"In combat magic, you can never have a perfect spell," I started to explain slowly, "Unless you are dealing with some century-old abomination that can side-step the usual issues via extraordinary skill and personal power, or you are dealing with a curse, that is." I showed Teuflisch three of my fingers. "I will abridge it a bit, but there are three main characteristics of an offensive spell. The speed you cast it with, the speed with which it reaches the target after it's cast, and its power." I decided not to bring up the whole 'piercing power' vs 'area of effect' thing, and cut down on most of the nuances. "Most combat spells are cast as quickly as possible. Usually, once mastered, you can throw an attack in under a second; otherwise, the spell has a very limited utility in combat, because it requires a specific window of opportunity. Spells like this exist, but they may as well be in a separate category, they aren't relevant right now," I explained simply, "Most offensive spells are limited on how fast they can reach the enemy, and how damaging they are, because the caster has already hyper-specialized the spell in casting speed. It's a natural consequence of a mage not having too much time to put a lot of mana into them. Clear so far?"
The necromancer nodded after a moment of hesitation.
"Defenses, generally, only have two things of note where the trade-off happens. Durability of the defense and the speed with which you can erect said defense." I gestured with my free hand, and a wall of stone slowly rose from the ground, "Generally, this wall will be much harder to breach than any configuration of Goldene Grenze. It also has a magical defence imbued in it, as well as a physical barrier of hardened stone. Simply put, I had more time to put mana into it as I shaped it, so it's only natural. But a defense like that requires you to expect an attack on your person and start preparing in advance. Goldene Grenze is a spell you can cast on reaction, a shield you can erect when you see the attack already flying towards you. Erdschild requires you to plan ahead, to prepare to defend yourself, before you are even attacked, and to commit to staying in one spot," I inclined my head. "If your only option is to defend, and you can't realistically dodge or hide, then a weaker shield that you can have at any moment is always better than a stronger shield you can only sometimes erect." I measured his reaction carefully, as I spoke, "Specifically, if we keep in mind your Vigil, who, once battle-ready, have plentiful powerful defensive magics to protect you with, you only need a shield that you can raise to survive until they are there."
Teuflisch studied me for a long moment, but finally, nodded, sighing, and I think... looking a bit guilty?
"This is fair. I suppose I understand your concern. I... thank you, for caring enough to help and… well, teach me."
The gratitude was honest, and it grated on me. But I knew my anger here was irrational.
"Consider it a small payback for all the help you provided with my research," I proposed instead, raising my hand, bringing his attention towards it. "Now, I mentioned it in the notes, but the second shield must be rotating faster than the first. Otherwise, if the projectile is too fast, or its piercing power too strong, the course of it won't change, and it will still pierce you."
The necromancer nodded resolutely but paused.
"A bit of an awkward question, but... what exactly do you visualize to achieve a rotation speed like this?" He asked, his body language radiating fidgeting, embarrassed energy.
That gave me a pause.
He was right, of course. The template I added for the rotational force was one of those based on visualization. You didn't 'input numbers' into it; you never do such a thing in magic. Instead, you visualize how it should be, and it is. Most of the targeting for offensive spells works like that, too. You visualize exactly where the spell will travel, picture it in your mind, and 'place it' into the spell with mana.
This is a common thing in magic. As much as magic tended to remind me what little I knew of engineering, it was still magic; an ability to paint across the canvas that is the world with your will alone.
I conjured an illusion of the buzz saw.
"It's amusing that you asked. I visualize it due to an object from my world, actually," I explained, gesturing at the transparent picture, "Used by woodsmen and carpenters. It looks like this when inactive, but once in motion..."
***
Teuflisch,
To the necromancer, Albert was the most fascinating boring man he had ever met. Exactly in that order.
Sure, the demon insisted multiple times not to label him in such terms as a 'man' or a 'person', but Teuflisch quite quickly learned that the demon friend of his was, surprisingly, just grumpy.
It was hard to tell, as Albert tended to be obnoxiously diligent in trying to appear emotionless, but things slipped through the cracks as they traveled. The rule of thumb was to watch Albert's actions, not listen to his words.
It had already been one month. One month, when they traveled, solving small issues daily, training each evening, and conducting Albert's research whenever they could.
Teuflisch was initially completely unprepared for hours of combat magic practice daily. But apparently that's what Albert did his whole life. Well, according to the demon, he either practiced combat magic or exercised his mana capacity; to him, it was a daily coin toss. Literally.
The latest progress so far in regards to monster research was a container that could hold a monster's core for an entire week, without the monster's actual body. The whole procedure was mostly already researched by Albert when he was learning how to extract pieces of cores from monsters and preserve them. Surprisingly, necromantic templates centered around preserving dead flesh served as a colossal source of inspiration for a demon.
Seeing Albert twisting spells the demon way was deeply disturbing and terrifying to Teuflisch. Not because he was afraid of his companion, but rather, it was the ease with which he tweaked weaves and templates in a spell. Intuiting solutions to step by step, alter spells completely, and produce functional results within weeks.
Leaning back on the seat of the Behemoth, Teuflisch studied Albert for a moment.
The man sat there, reading a tome on sewing, of all things, as golems on this stretch were under Teuflisch's control. Not that they needed much control, the behavioral models of the golems were pretty sophisticated after the latest upgrades (which Teuflisch was proud to admit was partially due to his help), and they were pretty good at creating their own road.
Still, the necromancer felt that he still couldn't quite get over the dissonance. Albert didn't look over twenty; he looked a bit younger, actually. He had the sort of face women and some men would swoon at; most things about him were like that, and he had already lived for over a century. A pair of horns around his head appeared like a wreath or a coronet, dark red, so dark in fact they appeared black. Yet, this man was terrifyingly intelligent and diligent in magic; far too often, his insight left Teuflisch completely stupefied, and that's despite Albert always sharing his own knowledge freely.
Speaking to this man felt like speaking to a bottomless well of knowledge and wisdom about the most unexpected things.
It didn't take long for Teuflisch to start sharing things from his own craft that he, technically, shouldn't have shared. It wasn't a conscious decision; Albert simply freely asked for his insight and invited him into his work, and seeing his friends struggle with questions the necromancer had a solution for... it didn't sit right.
Albert likely noticed the fact that Teuflisch shared a little too much, but never seemed to comment on it.
Probably for a stupid reason, if a necromancer had to bet. Something in line with 'I am not qualified to judge another human's choices', or something of that sort.
Seeing the golems pause before a particularly tall tree that they couldn't quite get around, Teuflisch gestured for a Vigil construct to come forward and displace it with earth magic.
"I've been wondering," Teuflisch said idly, and this wasn't the first time he started an idle conversation with Albert while they traveled.
He knew the demon didn't enjoy such talks, but he was still willing to endure them.
This was an aspect of Albert's character he couldn't understand, not empathetically. He was willing to do things he hated doing just because he was asked, and considered it natural.
It was a way to combat demonic urges, he understood that much, but it also must have been killing his individuality and actual preferences. Stepping over himself over and over again, for the sake of following written rules, what would remain once you do it enough times?
"You mentioned yesterday that you kept a list of ideas of what you could do once you became human." Teuflisch glanced towards a demon who was already intently looking at him. His gaze was unsettling at first, but the necromancer knew by now, it was Albert's way to pay attention. "Can you give me an example?"
Albert didn't look thoughtful, nor annoyed at being distracted; even the thundering sound of the falling tree didn't make him flinch. His eyes were simply staring through Teuflisch for a moment, as he considered a question.
"I have a series of tests planned out that definitely prove the existence of God," Albert said casually, affording a rare upward tilt of his lips, signifying either a joke or that he acknowledged the idea to be amusing, "Though the tests themselves may just be an excuse."
The Behemoth once again started to move, but neither men paid any attention to that.
Necromancer was a bit confused, blinking owlishly. Albert had mercy and clarified.
"Have you ever noticed that every animal in the wild, monsters included, enjoys receiving pats?" That, too, threw Teuflisch for a loop.
For a moment, he wasn't sure how to react, but the absurdity of the situation caught up quickly enough for him to barely stifle a chuckle.
"Pats?" He asked, unable to conceal the wild smile, he already knew this was going to be good.
Albert, damn him, nodded with a small smile and continued as if giving his normal lecture.
"Indeed. It's astonishing, really, but I've seen all kinds of animals, even the asocial and predatory kind, enjoy this very human gesture of affection. I've seen bears, tigers and lions, eels, snakes, spiders, birds, moles, and even some fish enjoying receiving headpats... or whatever appendage a human could reach, really," He explained simply, sharing his 'clinical observations'.
Teuflisch couldn't help; he laughed openly at this.
"Eels? You are pulling my leg on this one, aren't you?" Being the son of a fisherman, who also happened to dive for pearls in the sea, Teuflisch knew just how vicious those sea-snakes tended to be.
"I am completely serious," Albert shook his head, glancing down at his book for a moment, "I've seen it, though, through the media in my previous life. I am still relatively sure it holds in this world, too." He explained, his eyes lost somewhere, probably in his memory.
Teuflisch's expression softened despite himself.
Sure, when Albert first told him his story, it was difficult to believe. Not the part about Albert being a human before, that much explained far too much. But about him coming from a different world without magic. Even the illusions of machines, buildings, and unimaginable sights wouldn't have convinced the necromancer completely. No, the real thing that convinced him was those small insights, tiny bits of trivia and wisdom that were simply... out there.
Those were the things that couldn't be explained away with Albert hailing from a Mythical Era, or a different continent.
"You used to like animals?" Teuflisch couldn't help but ask.
The man next to him nodded, though, unsurely.
"I suppose. I never took care of one since becoming an adult, and the cost of having one always seemed too inconvenient," He explained slowly, his brows furrowing as he was deeply in his thoughts, probably digging for an honest answer in his own memory, "But I always like the idea of them. That, even lacking in mind, we could share some moments and form bonds, and that they even understood goodwill and company. It seemed a bit inspiring in my world, where we had no elves or dwarves." He nodded to himself. "They made things less lonely."
This was, perhaps, one of the most Albert-ish answers Teuflisch received in recent memory. How could someone speak of animals as if they were a foreign thing? Even in cities, livestock is expected in a household, not to mention guard dogs or cats for pest control. Only someone like Albert would have a perspective to speak of animals in the context of a world that had no other sentient race than humans, and where food production was a matter that common men never concerned themselves with.
"Still, what does your God have anything to do with this?" Teuflisch asked, as he tried to remember anything in the Bible on the subject.
The book was provided by Albert, who took care in translating it for him, and the necromancer mostly treated it as a fascinating insight into the demon's head. He didn't study it too piously.
That said, it was probably the most hardcore and strange sets of fairytales he'd seen in his life. Surprisingly engaging in places, too.
"Many animals I've seen enjoying pats didn't have anyone in nature who would normally touch them casually." The demon explained, glancing at him briefly, "There were some animals, like crocodiles, who had their teeth cleaned by birds in a weird symbiotic relationship, but that's besides the point. For instance, most fish have no reason to enjoy contact with a warm, grabby human appendage, nor rhythmic strokes against their scales. If anything, that should trigger the fight or flight instinct." He explained, once again showing off a small smile, to signify that he likely wasn't completely serious, "Naturally, the only explanation here is that God deigned to allow his creatures to comprehend affections of humans."
The idea did make Teuflisch chuckle. He knew of Albert's view on his God. The demon was convinced he existed, and that this world, just as his previous one, was created by him.
Out of interest, he questioned the demon how it related to the Goddess of Creation, to which Albert did his equivalent of a shrug. That is, the man explained in detail why he couldn't consider the Goddess as the same being as his God, and that whatever sort of being she was, she likely wasn't 'his Lord', and that beyond that, he didn't know, nor cared.
Teuflisch understood after reading the bible. The earlier part, specifically.
"And where do monsters come into this theory?" He asked curiously.
Albert simply shrugged.
"There are plenty of harmless monsters in the world." He offered.
Teuflisch knew exactly what he was referring to. Not all monsters were maliciously focused on attacking humans. Many were, but many weren't. There were entire species who, despite being mana-beings not unlike demons, couldn't care less for harming humans.
Sky Dragons, millennial turtles, neids, and a few others Teuflisch could think of on the spot.
Even in the vicinity around the necropolis, where he and Albert had to camp throughout winter, there were a few harmless species of monsters, like those curious see-through foxes and giant flightless birds. Albert insisted on leaving them alone, arguing that long-term extermination of only the malicious species can help the region a lot, and that's it's his usual moto.
It was the small things like that, from the first day of knowing Albert, that convinced Teuflisch not to confront him about his odd behavior and nature - even if the man was always odd.
"Yes, but I am not talking about harmless monsters. I am talking about, say, dragons. Or venom-spitting giant centipedes." Teuflisch remarked drily.
Albert shrugged.
"That's part of the mystery, isn't it? The reason for doing the testing. If you are brave enough, perhaps you can headpat even a dragon." The demon offered, before shaking his head, "Still, this is definitely an idea for the future, when I will actually be able to enjoy doing those things."
Teuflisch strongly disagreed here.
"No, no, you got me curious," Necromancer denied, digging into his bag and fishing out one of his master's journals, "Master said this territory has a sizable population of crusher bears. They are monsters, excuse me, mana-evolved animals, who live in the area." Teuflisch glanced at his companion, "You said you saw people patting bears, and, presumably, not dying, care to test if this holds true?"
For a moment, the demon considered him with a bland stare.
"I have a vague suspicion that you are trying to goad me into doing something stupid."
He was right, of course, but by this point, Teuflisch was invested. Entertainment was rare, and at this point, he would take just about any distraction. As such, he had only one awkward retort that he remembered being on the receiving end of, back when he was studying under Imperial priests with his fellow initiates.
"Are you, by any chance, chicken?"
The demon's eyes narrowed slightly.
***
The necromancer stood aside, staring at the demon patting a horrifically looking monster.
It wasn't a crusher bear. It was some incredibly ugly hedgehog-like lizard creature. It looked vicious. Albert also claimed 'it was an old acquaintance', and the necromancer wasn't sure if he was joking.
It acted viciously, too, shooting explosive needles from its back, up until Albert shared some of the dry meat with it, and then promptly physically overpowered it once it tried to lash out at him for coming too close.
By now, the creature seemingly gave up and enjoyed the belly rubs.
"This proves nothing," Teuflisch said, folding arms on his chest and staying at a safe distance.
Unlike Albert, he couldn't regenerate a missing limb.
The demon said nothing, simply looked up at him. He seemed to have touched a particularly pleasant spot, as the beast pulled out its tongue, panting like a dog, its ear practically twitching from enjoyment. Teuflisch could sense smug energy radiating from the demon's face.
"This isn't even the right monster." The necromancer objected more out of principle and for fun than because he wasn't impressed by what he was seeing.
"To be fair, one of the reasons why it's so placated is likely because it knows I am not food," Albert commented, likely his own way of consideration, trying to make sure Teuflisch's ego wasn't bruised, as the beast shifted and started to get up.
The demon respectfully stepped away, allowing it the full range of movement and retreat.
"You are surprisingly good at this," Teuflisch commented, still not getting any closer, as the pair of undead by his side stood vigil.
Albert shrugged.
"I don't think I am, but for some reason, as I am now, animals tolerate me well," The demon explained calmly, stepping away from the beast that waddled away on its stumpy feet. "It took me some time to understand what sort of body language they consider non-threatening, but once I married it down, I could part ways without a fight with most animals." Albert shook his head, "It's quite absurd how many animals ended up living around my house in the Sturmkamm Valley," He stood watching the beast walk away, "The hard part was not getting them addicted to food, or they got too bold with their demands for it."
Somehow, Teuflisch could easily imagine Albert surrounded by forest critters reading in the forest, like a folk-tale princess.
The picture was so ridiculous, he could feel a migraine on the way.
Well, at least this was a fun diversion and a good opportunity to stretch his legs today. That's nice enough.
***
Albert,
Out of all things about my companion, there was one thing I didn't understand. His hobby.
That being osteology.
I watched as the necromancer was practically floating around a small ditch, a bunch of different instruments offered to him by his constructs without even a gesture from him, as he brushed the dirt away from a spot in the ground where he claimed he detected human remains with his magic.
"I still fail to understand why you won't just use necromancy to extract the carcass," I said simply, sitting on the bench of Behemoth and observing this from the side.
Teuflisch never stopped his work, simply waving me away.
"That would infuse the remains with my mana, restore fractures and imperfections, and likely ruin other clues that could be found here. Besides, why do things with magic you enjoy doing by hand?" He said instead, sounding more intrigued and interested than he was when we were working on actual, literal magic. "See this layer here? It's natural. This wasn't a grave; someone just died here, and the layer of the earth around naturally accumulated. I think I can... Ah, yeah, those are definitely claw and bite marks from vultures. Impressive that the skeleton is mostly preserved as is."
He started muttering something about the possible age of the subject at the time of death, how long the remains must have been resting there, and such.
I conjured a basic clayvoyance spell to look down from the sky, out of curiosity, but there wasn't even a proper skeleton. Just fragments of bones.
On one hand, I was bewildered that someone could speak about this with such passion. On the other hand, maybe this was alright? I definitely never met people with this hobby in my past life, but maybe it's normal? Archeologists specifically were a weird bunch.
The human perspective was difficult to get into sometimes, especially on subjects where I didn't use to have an opinion on.
I didn't mind the stop too much. I understood that humans had needs, and couldn't stay focused on a goal and pursue it relentlessly like I can. After two months of travel, there were plenty of things that proved to be small annoyances: the small talk, the distractions, the in-depth conversations on topics I didn't care much to discuss.
I tolerated it on account of accommodating for Teuflisch. Being able to travel without cutting my horns, as well as the periodical insights and help he provided when we discussed something actually interesting, like magic, more than compensated for such things anyway.
Still, Teuflisch aside...
I glanced back at the letter I've been working on throughout the day. Luckily, the whole debacle with natural science was behind S and me, so now I was working on composing our latest breakthroughs in research. I hoped to be done before we descend to Irem, in case of our untimely death.
Thanks to the necromancer and the next steps I decided to take in my research, I had a lot to write about. Theories, conjectures, testing procedures, and results, I didn't mind sharing all of that with S.
The introductory letter that preceded the technical discussions and journals, which by this point was customary, had surprisingly little substance, and I honestly didn't know how to change that.
I knew, logically, that I needed to show my appreciation for S's latest concessions and accommodation of my unreasonable requests, but I didn't know how.
I snapped back to awareness once I saw Teuflisch approach, a small box carried by his construct to the second cart, where he kept his Vigil, and walked right past us, as the necromancer himself glanced at the valley in front of us.
"Master was right... This is an unbelievably beautiful place."
I glanced where he was looking, and I understood where he was coming from.
We were currently passing not too far from the mountain range. Even here, there were plenty of smaller hills, some so tall they could be called small mountains with clear cliffsides. Below us was the valley, with a picturesque turquoise river, flowing across the clary-rich, even ground. The river was split into countless sleeves, forming entire tiny islands of trees down there. They swayed beautifully in the wind.
It was early in the morning, so the rising sun shone across the white peaks of the mountains on the backdrop, giving them, and the forest beneath the mountains, a vibrant, fiery red hue.
The fresh mountain air and relatively warm wind helped. As did the sense of the scales of the tiny valley below us.
Seeing Teuflisch stare at it with such a stupified expression made me feel longing and jealousy I can't even describe. Which turned to burning, seething rage in an instant.
"I will save this memory for later," I commented instead, repeating this as a promise to myself too, to help soothe the anger, "I am sure I will savour it greatly."
The necromancer glanced at me, his brows furrowing.
"Why? This isn't… well, a social thing between people; this is simply the beauty of nature." He looked at me with confusion, still standing on the ground, "Surely, you can appreciate it even now."
I didn't bother taking a deep breath or otherwise doing things that would help humans to stay calm.
It never worked for me in this body.
"I can't." I denied simply, tearing my eyes away from Teuflisch and glancing at the view, "Seeing this, I feel nothing."
For a moment, there was silence.
"You told me you are capable of awe and fascination," He said simply, his words making me pause for a brief moment, "Al, are you sure you can't enjoy this view because you are a demon... or merely because you don't allow yourself to enjoy such things anymore?"
His words hit me like a landslide. I turned sharply towards him before I even realized it, my mind racing as I tried to find a way to deny his words instinctively.
Yet, I couldn't. Demons are capable of awe. I myself remember being in awe of some monsters and of magic itself. Sometimes, when the mood was right, I could even feel awe towards Him in Heaven.
But it's been a while, hasn't it? Even if demons' emotions are weaker than the emotions of humans, how long has it been since I last felt an emotion like that? Not via Resonant Soul, but in my own flesh?
"Al?" Teuflisch called out softly, "You alright?"
But still, this was surely a result of my body affecting me, right?
The more I thought about it, the less convincing it seemed. I just couldn't come up with a plausible idea of how my body would interfere in such a way. No, this was familiar. A very human thing. A thing I did in my previous life. Focusing so much on work, on what I needed to do next, that I missed simple things, putting them away, telling myself I would be able to enjoy that experience later, when I have time, when I am more equipped to enjoy them.
Only to die before I could.
"I am sorry for bringing it up," I blinked, realizing that Teuflisch looked at me in concern, seemingly stopping himself from approaching, "If it's that uncomfortable for you, I mean." He looked anxious. Not fear of me, but the fear for me, I realized.
I shook my head.
"No, you are completely right. I just never even thought..." I trailed off, not really knowing what else to say.
There were many things I didn't think about too deeply, concerning my current state. Many - on purpose. Thinking too deeply could lead to helplessness.
I didn't need to be helpless; I knew what I needed to do to fix this. I just needed to stay focused on doing it and walk the path.
This was my entire mindset. This was the current me, simply a being who walked the path. Why would I go out of my way to see what a demon like me could enjoy, if it's unrelated to my work?
"I have a lot to think about," I admitted, my voice as carefully emotionless as ever, as I stared at the view in front of me.
Undeniable, it was beautiful. Awe-inspiring. It must have been. Yet, I felt nothing special.
I choose to ignore Teuflisch's concerned and guilty look, hoping this will blow over by itself.
***
"What a fascinating village," I commented, glancing around the ruins. Another small valley, on the other end of the mountain range we've been traveling in parallel to. Took us a few weeks.
Around us were buildings, abandoned a while ago but... clearly, for less than a century. Or so it appeared visually. The roofs were still there, weird as they were, composed of layers of what looked like bricks. The buildings were more akin to huts than conventional European-like houses that the cities and villages of this world boasted. It was spacious, however, plenty of fences for livestock and the green pastures themselves, not to mention still somewhat preserved roads and the picturesque view.
"According to master, it was abandoned even when he passed here," The necromancer replied softly, his eyes sharply searching around. "He had to pass quickly at the time; he was low on supplies, but he didn't notice any bodies or signs of fighting. The enchantments on the remaining structures here were surprisingly strong."
With that assessment, I agreed.
"This is a pretty remote place for a settlement," I admitted softly, gently running my hand across the nearby wall of a spacious hut, "And your master is correct, the enchantments here are incredibly powerful." In fact, with durability enchantments like this, I wouldn't be surprised if this place were as old as the necropolis with the basilisk, maybe older. Time and weather wouldn't damage those structures; it would take effort to damage them with combat magic. "They are far too powerful, in fact. Those spells..." It's hard to decipher enchantments once they are already applied, but what I could sense... was incredibly complex.
I stepped back, glancing around the village, most of which was bright in my mana senses.
"It's like a dozen unbelievable mages lived here." I informed him, "A long time ago. Still, the potency and complexity of this magic is beyond what I've seen anywhere else."
The necromancer simply nodded, accepting my words immediately, as he walked to the nearest stone fence and sat on it, resting his legs.
"So, you think this is an elf village after all?" He asked simply, sounding both fascinated and curious.
Slowly, I nodded.
"I don't want to make wild guesses," I warned him cautiously, "But I can't think of anyone else. See, the enchantment here," I said, touching the stone of one building, "Has... three templates? Yet, each one is so massive and bloated, they are composed of over a thousand different weaves. Learning to cast a template like that would take anyone decades," I walked across the street and tapped the wall of the wall on the opposite side, "This one has five templates of similar scale. It's also why, I assume, it doesn't have moss growing in the roof tiles."
I simply shook my head.
"I am not a specialist in enchantment, but the principles of both spells are almost fundamentally different, too. Only an immortal race with a standardized magic system could afford to do something like this." To spend so much time learning how to do the same things so differently just to… what, express themselves?
I wish I could learn more about elven society as it used to be.
Teuflisch slowly nodded, his expression growing a bit pitying.
"Demons hunted elves down to extinction, didn't they?" He said quietly, his body language odd, and his expression weird.
Somberness, I realized. He was probably put out by the idea of a slaughter happening on the streets where we stood right now.
"Not to extinction, but close," I offered simply, as if it was any consolation, "From what I know, it happened around the time of Flamme. A direct order from the Demon King."
"Over five hundred years ago," Teuflisch confirmed quietly, "It matches with the Imperial records, for the most part. Though the isolated attacks on elven villages kept happening afterwards, if I recall correctly," He sighed, shaking his head, "What wouldn't I give to learn your curse."
Indeed, it's a shame he couldn't. Resonant Soul was far too demonic for a human to cast; the spell simply had way too many components for someone without my instinctive understanding and knowledge to grasp.
I thought about trying to make a simplified version for human use, but never quite got to it; it was on the back burner of ideas for over seventy years now.
"I am not giving a necromancer access to souls through a spell," I said, allowing a small smile to signify a joke. "In a few generations, I'll find you people binding them to carcasses."
Teuflisch's gaze, however, made me realize I made a mistake somewhere.
"Don't even joke about that," He demanded, "Working a soul into a construct would be the same as twisting a living being into one. That's something forbidden since the time of our founder, Barmherzig!"
It wasn't the first time that name came up.
"The man whose journals from Irem you use?" I clarified, from memory, without using Resonant Soul.
"Some of the journals are his. Many belonged to his disciples," Teuflisch replied, before shaking his head, "But Al, this is important, it's the greatest taboo since Barmherzig's time to ever attempt to twist a living being into servitude in such a way! Or to use them in any way to empower your magic, or anything else disgusting and perverse like that." The man breathed out, shaking his head, "Necromancy is a chance for the dead to help the living. It extracts no cost from the deceased, it does not hurt them, and it doesn't have to harm the living either. It's an art that makes use of the past for the sake of the future, involving any part of a living person in this, especially a soul, would be the greatest violation of everything it was created for."
This sounded like a philosophy created around justifying the usage of necromancy, the whole noble dead helping the living one last time thing. But then again, I also couldn't find fault in the logic. It wasn't necessarily a lie after all, and every ideology, by nature, served some agenda.
"I apologize if I overstepped, Teuflisch," I offered simply.
The man studied me for a moment, seemingly still fired up, but sighed, shaking his head.
"No, I am sorry for snapping I... I know you were trying to joke, but this is a sensitive topic," He said quietly.
"The fault still lies with me," I offered, glancing around, "This is still a fascinating place. Do you perhaps want to search for elven remains?"
The necromancer shook his head.
"No one ever managed to find any. It's assumed the demons destroyed the remains or devoured them completely." He responded, gazing across the village's empty streets, "Considering how undisturbed this place is, the remains would've likely stayed on the ground right where the residents died. I cast a few spells to locate any remains once we got here, and I found nothing."
"I am surprised no one tried to resettle here," I said instead, glancing around, "This is probably the most fortified village I've ever seen."
"Al, this is the most haunted place I've ever seen," The necromancer chuckled awkwardly, "You will convince no one to live here. If there are any human settlements around, they likely have horror stories of this place. Mages in this area are extremely rare, after all." And without magic, good luck justifying the existence of unbreakable stone remains of a village.
But I wasn't so sure. Historically, humans tended to prefer convenience and utility over superstitions.
Superstitions in general tended to be the result of people finding patterns and trying to interpret them.
"This Barmherzig, do you have any of his journals I could read?" I offered after a few long seconds, addressing Teuflisch, "If he is the founder of your line of necromancers, it would be interesting to see where it all started. Of course, I don't ask for any material you aren't allowed to share, Teuflisch."
The man measured me with a long look, but I couldn't interpret his expression very well.
"I'll see what I can do," He got up slowly, pulling his cloak closer once the wind picked up. "Also, by this point, you can just call me Lisch. I know my name can be a mouthful." He offered with a smile.
Was it an attempt at a peace offering after the earlier incident?
"It isn't difficult for me to speak a few extra syllables, demons in general don't have much trouble linguistically with sounds that aren't easy to..."
I paused once Teuflisch tapped me on the shoulder.
"Al, please, just stop. Not everything is about demons."
I grew angry; it was a flare of annoyance at being interrupted and touched both, and yet, I couldn't deny his words.
Later in the evening, I realized that I might not be the only one being annoyed by some of my companions' quirks.
***
Below is an excerpt from the letter.
...for that reason, even though normally I did not introduce other entities to our exchanges, I must admit to L's contribution to my work, and the progress of those studies. Depending on what we will find in the city of Irem, if we will find anything at all, I may be writing back to you soon.
Finally, there is a matter of your latest question. You asked me if I still loved magic.
Truth is, I find it difficult to tell. Magic was a sense of great wonder and hope at first, but those emotions dimmed over the years. I still find myself occasionally bewildered by the abyss that is magic, both terrified and, in a sense, hopeful.
Intellectual, I am grateful that magic exists. Emotionally, I grew so accustomed to it that it may as well be my limb. And it's difficult for people of any road of life to have strong feelings about their arms or legs.
Still, I suppose I am avoiding the question. You asked me if I loved magic. I would say I don't, not as I am now.
I dream of a day when I will be able to love it with all my heart.
That is the essence of it.
In any case, if I will find anything in Irem that I wouldn't mind sharing with Äußerst, I will send it in shielding containers. I have a couple more ingredients for flying familiars, and thanks to you, several shielded crates. Provided nothing will go unexpectedly wrong in any case, we've currently just reached the location where the city is supposedly located.
If I won't write back in a decade, presume me dead, and do with my studies as you please.
Once again, thank you for your time and partnership.
Yours, A.
----
Author Notes: And, finally, we are a step away from the main part of the arc. The chapter was mostly boys being boys, and me bringing up and discussing a lot of smaller elements I wanted to address for a while.
Not the most exciting chapter, but hopefully still pleasant to read.
A sufficiently spooky chapter will be posted on Halloween. I am lucky I started this arc when I did, and that it lines up so perfectly.
As always, one more chapter is there on the Patreon.