Book 2, 149

An End And A Beginning(2)

By this time, Zendrall had finished unsummoning the remaining warriors of darkness. The necromancer came out from the castle, his eyes glowing the moment they landed on Sinclair’s lifeless body, “Give her to me! Half a month, and I’ll be able to turn her into a formidable black knight, level 15 at minimum! Give me the manticore’s carcass too! I’ll be able to... Wait, what? Is it eating the manticore? NOOO! It was such a powerful corpse to work with!”

Zendrall pointed towards the broodmother, yelling in grief. His normal composure was completely gone; he had never been close to the fresh corpse of such a powerful being before, and he never might. Most important was that the souls hadn’t fully dissipated yet. If he acquired these corpses, he could attain new peaks in necromancy.

“The broodmother gets the manticore,” Richard announced. Even though Zendrall’s warriors of darkness weren’t too shabby, they weren’t all that great either. Giving him the manticore would only have a limited effect on the army’s power. On the other hand, the broodmother was stronger and more dependable. Its abilities would only grow in the future. RIchard finally understood why high priestess Ferlyn had once called it a weapon on a planar scale.

The manticore’s specialty was its lethal venom. Devouring it would allow the broodmother to give the wind wolves this ability as well. Even if the drones didn’t advance in level, their fighting prowess would increase substantially. This was very important— few beings in the myriad planes were resistant to poison.

But why did Flowsand want Sinclair’s corpse? Was she interested in necromancy as well? Interestingly, that request didn’t garner any aversion from the broodmother like Zendrall’s did.

‘Wait, did Flowsand ask for the corpse on the broodmother’s behalf?’ Richard suddenly had a brainwave.

He ordered his subordinates to look over Sinclair’s corpse, prohibiting anyone from touching it. He then hurried to the room Flowsand was resting in. He only had one question for her, “Did you want Sinclair’s corpse for the broodmother?”

Flowsand propper herself up with some difficulty, “How did you find out?”

“A wild guess,” Richard sighed, “Will it be a great benefit?”

“Anyone with great power will, yes.”

“But that would mean she starts to eat people,” Richard argued helplessly, “What if she gets used to it...”

“But she only follows your commands,” Flowsand explained patiently. She was saying that as long as Richard could control himself, the broodmother would be able to as well.

Richard furrowed his brows, “So you’re saying she’s eaten humans before?”

The broodmother’s original request had made him feel somewhat uneasy. The possibility brought his mind to the bans he had set for her before. However, before he could even react to the possibility, Flowsand came clean, “I allowed her to do it. Powerful beings, regardless of species, greatly help the broodmother’s advancement. If not for Sir Menta’s corpse, she wouldn’t have the strength boost for the raptors.”

Richard looked at this young lady he had intimate relations with, only feeling that there were more and more things he didn’t know about her. However, the one thing he was certain of was what her intent was: she had stepped forward to make tough decisions for the sake of their party because she didn’t want him to bear the bulk of the guilt.

She would stand alone in the darkness, giving him the chance to be in the limelight.

Richard pondered over things for a while before looking up, his eyes clear and determined, “Do you enjoy such things?”

Flowsand was rendered silent for a while, but she eventually shook her head, “No, I don’t. But someone has to do it.”

“If you don’t like doing it, then don’t.” Richard smiled weakly, tilting the girl’s chin up and gently planting a kiss on her lips. “Let me make these decisions in the future.” Having said that, he turned to leave the room.

“Wait... No! You can’t possibly do all that! I’m already used to making these decisions!” Flowsand panicked, leaping down from her bed in an attempt to hold onto him. However, she was so weak that her legs gave way the moment she got off.

Richard turned back, managing to catch her before she fell to the floor. He then locked her in an embrace, looking solemnly into her eyes, “Yes, Flowsand, these things have to be done. And someone has to do it. In that case, I’d rather do them myself than have you suffer. I don’t want your dainty hands sullied by such dark things.”

He then grasped her hands, gently pecking her on the cheeks before carrying her back to the bed. He covered her with the sheets, going back outside.

Flowsand watched on as Richard disappeared out the door. Her eyes were wide open, but her face showed no emotion. One could not tell whether she was happy or distressed...

Richard quickly returned to the base of the castle. Sinclair’s corpse was still in its original position; Gangdor had brought ten soldiers to guard the area as they awaited his return. This wasn’t to defend against enemies, but the necromancer on their own side.

Zendrall was very persistent towards the possibility of his first ever black knight. The more he observed SInclair’s corpse, the more he felt that he could turn it into a black knight of such strength that it had never been seen before. He even felt like he could turn Sinclair into a black warlord! The warlord could advance in level if the God of Death blessed it, having an independent mind of its own!

By this point, the broodmother had already completely ingested the manticore. She had entered a quiet rest; her head was turned in Sinclair’s direction, but nobody knew whether she was paying attention to the corpse. Only Zendrall, extremely sensitive to spirits and souls as he was, could feel a formidable consciousness resting on the corpse. To think he had once almost controlled this magnificent creature by force; only months later, the power of its consciousness rivalled that of his own.

Richard hurried over and waved to the broodmother, “Take it, it’s yours.”

“Master Richard, but...” Zendrall still wished to fight for Sinclair’s corpse, but Richard had already made up his mind.

“Master, please have everyone take a step back. I can’t let them see me eating the corpse this time,” the broodmother relayed to his mind. In turn, he ordered Gangdor and the rest to move twenty metres away from Sinclair.

The broodmother slowly crawled over, giving off a dense, sour-smelling fog which engulfed the entire area and blocked all vision. She then used her joints to prop up her enormous body, before the armour on her belly opened up to reveal a hole that was like a giant mouth. She swallowed Sinclair’s corpse whole, engulfing even the dagger that was in her chest.

Having consumed the corpse, she then quietly laid down on the same spot without moving an inch. Richard felt numerous lights jumping around within his mindscape where she was, slowly converging to form parallel lines that entered her body.

It would still take some time for the corpse to be completely digested. In the interim, Richard planned to help clean up the battlefield. However, at that exact juncture one of Baron Fontaine’s knights suddenly came over, very anxious as he spoke to Richard, “Sir Richard, the Baron doesn’t have much time left. He hopes for you to go over as soon as possible, he has some words for you.”