As much as I hated leaving my tree, The Tree of mories, I had to feed Solas’ army.
And make sure the git did not try to survive off potato chips. One of those days, I am going to grab him by the ear and force him to eat all of his half-eaten bags at once!
Wait a minute!
He never threw them away!
I could make sothing out of them... provided I got my hands on enough eggs!
But that was neither here nor there. The three Boliari were making subtle signs that Solas was searching for , and I needed to teleport back.
Wasting another 400 zombies in the process.
"Nara," I said, for the woman was an orc wife. She knew how to keep order in a tribe.
Even if the tribe in question was made of gnos and humans.
"Yes, Sylvan?" She asked.
"Well, I will have to ask for the help of the gnos and humans for manual labor for the first couple of months, but after that, I will have my own mobs, and..." I began because I thought that making life sweet for my new family was going to make them happy.
thuselah had raised thinking this way.
But the thing was... I had not been happy. I just did not know it.
"Are you really going to just make us sit around all day?" Nara asked, as she waved a finger at . "My children will not be lazy or so help you!"
"What do you suggest?" It did not occur to that maybe, just maybe, the humans would want to get mud under their nails again.
Or that the gnos were burning with the desire to make mini farms the norm in the forest.
"Why don’t you ask the Family?" She said it so, as if it were the most natural thing to say.
I blinked, as Desmond pretty much showed a sign, on which it read:
"Solas does not want potato chips. Co back ASAP!"
"Tell him to wait," and just because Solas was probably a nightmare right now, I was going to feed him porridge.
Tasty porridge, so he would have no right to complain...
But porridge!
"Family!" to my amazent, everyone turned towards . "Would you like for to create mobs to lighten the workload?"
Everyone grimaced.
"No?" I asked.
"What mobs? This is our dungeon! This is our ho!" The goblin Chief yelled. "Ask for my na already!"
I bowed my head. Man, all that ti I thought that he does not want to give his na, but now...
"What’s your na?" I asked, too fearful to offer him a contract.
"Bob," he said, glaring at so, as if he was daring to ask him if he can really have such a normal na.
"Well, Bob," I said, as I was preparing to teleport. "Do you mind helping Nara here," I waved a hand at Nara, who smiled at the gno. "Run this place?"
Bob sighed.
"Go feed the army! Win the war!"
And I was yanked back into the war camp. A smile on my lips.
"Thank the Divines, you ca back! Where were you? We had to cook last night!"
I blinked, as I heard Desmond say that. I did not like the way he said it.
"And... is the entire army made up of zombies now?" I asked, not joking even a little bit.
"No!" Desmond even sounded proud of himself. I looked at the sky. Huh, why wasn’t it falling? "But now they complain their teeth hurt!"
I shook my head.
"You feed them sweets and nothing else?" I felt I should ask. Just so, I knew what sort of concoction I was going to have to prepare. Huh, guess that my call for porridge was the right one.
Besides, I doubted that there would be any sugar left. Might as well just take it easy on their teeth.
"Oh, we gave them a little sothing!"
My hand went to my heart. I wasn’t feeling well.
"What?" I asked, stuttering.
"Ghost Honey!" Desmond exclaid. "It makes all the aches go away, and..."
My hand went from my heart to Desmond’s collar.
"Yes," I said, my eyes wide. I could tell I had a crazed look on right now. "For the undead!"
Desmond blinked; I repeated my mantra:
I am not like that!
After what seed like an eternity, I just bowed my head.
"New rule:" I told one of the five most dangerous undead in the entire country. Not feeling any fear at all. "None of you are allowed to cook!"
Desmond nodded, bowing his head.
And so, I had to deal with... overflowing latrines.
It was ti to cook!
0000
Only the three Boliari, Nick, Nathaniel, and Desmond, were near , as I slowly asured out the water I needed for a sack of porridge.
"I hate porridge," Nathaniel whined. I was pretty sure that he had been a noble, once.
"You will love this one," I told him, as I searched through the pots. A asuring cup will be too slow.
"By the way," Nick said, who was always the more down to earth of the three. "The latrines are near the river."
I blinked.
Oh, for the love of God!
I looked at the oats in the giant cauldron, then at the water my three helpers had brought .
"We can’t cook with this," because I knew that the latrines were not dug upstream. This was Necromantic Union land, and that git Solas was trying to poison the land to make the war easier.
That brainless...
"I need about 1,200 zombies," I told the three.
Nick shook his head.
"We are going to get noticed soon," he said, as he ran a hand through his dark brown hair. His ember eyes shining with fury. "We won’t win this war with a pan!"
I blinked.
Oh, yes, he was right.
But I had latrine water, moldy oats, and an army which might be close by.
"Congratulations, Dungeon Core Sylvan! You have unlocked a new skill: The Shadow!
The Shadow:
You are a war hound. No one can predict when and where you will strike. You can use common objects to kill off millions!
You get 10,000 mana to do as you please for this skill upgrade!"
I wanted to snarl. I was not like that.
But... well, our soldiers weren’t dying of indigestion. They were just camping at the latrines.
Where was the harm?
I dumped as much water as I thought the oats needed.
Then the salt.
"Now that is what I call Pure Evil," Nathaniel said, a dreamy smile on his lips.
"Five thousand years old," I told him without looking at him.
He sighed.
"I know...," he whispered.
Reviews
All reviews (0)