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Once Arthur executed his spell, a pulsing blue light beamed from within the blonde mage's head. The corpse's muscles jerked about and spasmed as the familiar yet disorienting sensation of Arthur's spirit becoming linked to an external body flooded into his mind.
Glancing around the room, Arthur confirmed everyone was still facing away from him and nodded his head in satisfaction. "Okay, it's done. You can all turn around now."
The three men turned and looked around the room curiously, but nothing had changed.
"Young master, please remember what you promised me the last time! I haven't even eaten breakfast yet. If I'm forced to do it again, I'll be dry-heaving all day!" Foster whined, seemingly the only living person in the room besides Arthur aware of the current situation.
Thoran seemed to become more puzzled hearing Foster's words. "Dry heaving? What's going on, little lord? What'd that spell do?"
"Don't freak out..." Arthur said as he focused his will onto the mage's corpse and shakily brought it to its feet.
The previously dead mage returning to life caused Thoran to jump back defensively while Jeren charged toward it in a frenzy.
"Stop!" Arthur shouted. "He's already dead. I'm just controlling his corpse."
Jeren froze in his tracks and stared at Arthur as myriad emotions appeared on his face. "T-this... You said you're controlling it—wait, before that—Aren't you thirteen, lord? How is that..."
"The guys outside ain't made a move yet, but they seem to be growing impatient." Kyren announced after peeking through the smithy wall.
"Yes, I'm thirteen. Yes, I'm a mage. And yes, I'm controlling the corpse." Arthur quickly shot out his reply before raising the corpse's arm and casting a spell.
After a magic circle appeared in front of the corpse's hand, a small flame appeared momentarily before disappearing. Another wave of shock seemed to wash over Jeren and Thoran. Even Foster wasn't immune this time.
"T-they can use magic?!?" Foster yelped.
Arthur wasn't simply showing off. Until now, he only had a sample size of one, so he needed to make sure it wasn't a one-off when he had Bryan's corpse cast magic back in his tent.
Arthur removed his will and let the corpse fall to the ground. "Something like that... I'm going to need you guys to carry him and throw him out into the alley. Just keeping his body standing is difficult enough, and I can't make him walk on his own yet.
"We're going to make it look like we got into a fight with the blonde mage, causing him to flee the smithy before falling to the ground in the alley. Then, using the corpse's hand, I'll cast a fireball aimed at the smithy, but at the last moment, turn the corpse's hand toward the fifth circle mage and catch them by surprise.
"In a perfect world, the fireball kills him along with the other five guys. However, assuming that doesn't happen, Jeren, can you hold down the fifth circle while Foster and I take care of the third circle?"
Jeren nodded. "It might be a little tough, but I'll do my best, lord."
"Eh?" Thoran shot a perplexed look toward Arthur. "Did ya forget about me?"
Arthur shook his head and started equipping his new armor again. "You've done enough for me already. I'll be gone by tomorrow, but if you get involved and one of those guys escapes, they may seek you out for revenge."
"Bah!" Thoran grabbed a large sledgehammer before resting it on his shoulder and pointing the handle toward Jeren. "I ain't so old that I can't make my own decisions. I'll help 'em hold back the fifth circle."
Thunder boomed outside as if announcing the coming storm, and the pitter-patter of heavy raindrops soon followed it.
Arthur frowned. "Would it be possible to get the forge nice and hot instead of fighting?"
"Why?" Thoran asked with a voice full of suspicion.
"Because there's a chance, however small, that my stepmother involved the city guards in this plot." Arthur pointed his finger toward the body of the man who had entered the smithy with the blonde mage. "Instead of leaving our fate up to that chance, it's better to simply get rid of the evidence, no?"
It may be paranoia, but Arthur didn't trust the city guard. They weren't paid anywhere near as much as the Revan house guard. Nor were they as disciplined, and because of that, they could be easily bribed.
If Elyria had paid them off, then the moment he admitted to killing these assassins, they could try and spin it as murder. Getting rid of Arthur once he was in custody would be simple, so he refused to allow such a situation to develop.
Thoran's forge looked large enough to fit three or four bodies at a time, and he was reasonably sure that a blacksmith's forge was hotter than the cremation ovens back on Earth.
Considering there were fantasy metals on Nithe that probably required higher temperatures to work with than steel, Arthur surmised that twelve bodies should only take two to three hours to turn to ash. Of course, It might even be less. He wasn't exactly a cremation expert, so it was all guesswork.
"You..." Thoran's jaw dropped. "You want to cook 'em in my poor forge?!?"
Arthur was about to console him when Kyren phased through the wall again. "They're moving toward the smithy from both sides, kid. If you got a plan, the time is now."
"We're out of time! They're coming!" Arthur shouted. "Quick, Thoran, hold the door open and keep it open. Jeren, Foster, throw the corpse outside and be ready to charge the moment it shoots out a fireball."
Thoran dashed into action, opening the door while Jeren and Foster tossed the body outside. Arthur willed the corpse to sit up and raise its arm as a magic circle formed before its hand.
To the assassins outside, it probably looked like their buddy had tumbled out from the smithy and decided to incinerate the entire place for his troubles. However, as the sizzling fireball grew to its apex, the blonde mage suddenly shifted his arm to the right, shooting it out toward his oncoming friends instead.
A muffled explosion echoed through the alleyway as Jeren and Foster darted outside. Arthur peeked out the doorway and glanced to the left only to see four men on the ground, dead or dying, as the flames consuming their bodies flickered violently under the pelting downpour.
The fifth circle raged about, howling in pain as part of his upper body and face were blackened and charred. He raised his arm as if readying a spell, but Jeren was a step quicker. Half a dozen foot-long icicles honed in on the fifth circle mage as Jeren engaged the other assassin in a melee.
Feeling confident in Jeren's chances, Arthur focused on his task and looked toward the third circle mage. Foster executed a spell as he sprinted toward the enemies, causing an earthen spike to jut out from the wall beside the four men.
Unfortunately for them, they hadn't recovered from the shock of their coconspirator seemingly betraying them, and as such, Foster's earthen spike pierced its intended target with ease. The death of one of their comrades before their very eyes spurred the remaining three into action. The mage prepared a spell while the other two furiously charged toward Foster with their swords drawn.
Arthur carefully hid himself using the smithy doorway as cover and utilized his undead puppet to cast another spell, this time aiming toward the third circle mage.
His decision to stay hidden wasn't entirely due to the fear currently grasping at his heart. The men outside were assassins sent to kill him. They'd likely focus on him if he appeared before them, forcing Foster and Jeren to fight defensively to protect him.
Besides, Arthur didn't need to fight for himself. He was the world's first necromancer, and a necromancer used their undead minions to fight for them.
The third circle mage completed his spell first, and in the midst of Foster parrying an enemy's sword strike, thorny vines began to sprout from the mud underneath him. The vines didn't see friend from foe and wrapped around the legs of Foster and the two assassins, holding them in place as they struggled to break free.
As the third circle mage prepared another spell, a fireball shot down the alleyway toward him. The mage panicked, canceling his spell and jumping forward to dodge it, but Arthur hadn't aimed the fireball at the mage to begin with.
The fireball smashed into the alleyway wall a few feet behind the mage, exploding into a brilliant inferno that surely would've mesmerized Thoran had he been watching.
Steam filled the alleyway as the third circle mage frantically rolled on the floor, extinguishing the flames on his back while releasing agonized screams. "Daven! You dare betray us! I'll have your head if it's the last thing I do!"
Arthur surmised that Daven must've been the blonde mage he had turned into a puppet, but unfortunately for him, his threats fell on undead ears.251Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡyckxIVRJEa
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