This Necromancer Just Wants to Plant Trees - Chapter 10 (Patreon)

Thanks to the well-established image of a necromancer and Matthew's exceptional acting skills, he successfully infiltrated the necromancer camp.

However, he remained vigilant throughout.

From start to finish.

He never walked side by side with Fayn or the big guy.

He mingled in the center, guarded by the skeleton soldiers.

He followed behind them the whole way.

The big guy named Anglais grew increasingly resentful of Matthew.

Fayn, on the other hand, didn't say much about it -

Instead, he thought this was how a solitary necromancer should behave.

Evil, ruthless, cunning, cautious.

Clearly not to be messed with.

...

The valley was very narrow.

But inside the camp, it was unexpectedly spacious.

Matthew found some scattered pottery and utensils inside -

These things were obviously not made by human hands.

"This used to be the lair of a group of lizard creatures," Fayn explained, seeming to see the confusion in Matthew's eyes. "I originally wanted to invite them to join our cause, but their shamans were not grateful, so I had to kill them all."

Matthew lowered his voice:

"No matter, they'll have a chance to contribute their share of power."

Fayn looked at the few small skeletal remains among the skeleton soldiers with a hint of approval in his eyes:

"Indeed, I've long wanted to recruit a necromancer, but the necromancers in White Rock City have had their hands and feet bound by the 'Chains'. They are too mild, like wolf cubs raised in a sheepfold for years. Even if someone removes the chains for them, all they get is a dog."

Fayn's words carried a hint of testing.

This cunning necromancer clearly hadn't let his guard down when it came to Matthew.

Matthew answered with disdain:

"The 'Chains of Humanity' cannot suppress the steps of a necromancer seeking the truth. You only see the surface of White Rock City."

Fayn smiled knowingly:

"Perhaps, it seems you understand White Rock City better than I do."

Matthew pretended to snort.

He didn't continue to dwell on this topic, but chose to take the initiative:

"Who is your master?"

As soon as he spoke, the big guy Anglais rushed over in anger:

"You are offending the dignity of my lord!"

Matthew stood his ground:

"Heh, as far as I know, there are many bluffers on the outer planes, weaklings who pretend to be invincible - do you get what I mean, Fayn? You're not the first sorcerer I've met."

...

Sorcerers.

As the name suggests, it's a relatively evil profession.

The power of a sorcerer usually comes from the being they serve.

Most of these beings are non-native, exceptionally powerful extraplanar entities.

They could be fairies from the Arcane Wilderness, great evil spirits from the lower planes, twilight creatures buried in the Starrealm, or abominations sealed beneath the Bridge of All Living Beings.

The strength of a sorcerer depends on how much power their patron can project into the material plane and how much favor the latter bestows on the former.

In general.

Patrons would not allow their sorcerers to be too weak.

But there were exceptions.

Just like what Matthew had just said.

Creatures from the outer planes vary in quality, and there are always a few impostors among a group of tough guys.

Some sorcerers are deceived by extraplanar beings, gaining little power and paying a heavy price.

Such cases are not uncommon.

...

"You do have some knowledge," Fayn said, still not angry. He smiled and said, "I can't tell you my lord's name for now, but as long as you join my cult, you will have answers to everything you want to know."

Inconvenient to reveal?

Then the 'Void Master Yuckrus' mentioned in the secret letter could be ruled out.

Sometimes, what a sorcerer does is not to please their patron.

But to please the person their patron wants to please.

"This means that the status of his patron is not too high," Matthew thought quickly. He maintained his sharp and sardonic attitude on the surface. He looked around and said, "Your cult? Frankly, these people don't seem like they're capable of accomplishing anything. They don't seem to have faith in the cult."

There were about forty or fifty people inside and outside the camp.

This was already a considerable size for a sorcerer's team.

But Matthew observed that these people didn't seem to be fanatical cultists.

They appeared spiritless.

Fayn blinked:

"They're just some helpers I brought in hastily. Some of them are exiled prisoners I bought from Black Lake Harbor, and the rest are members of a bandit gang that I recruited."

"Sir, you may not think highly of them, but it's reasonable to have such characters along the way to accomplish our mission."

Matthew snorted, showing even more contempt:

"You'd better show some sincerity here, instead of wasting my time."

"Okay, okay," Fayn said helplessly, raising his hands. "I'll take you to meet someone. I'm preparing a ceremony, and she's the most crucial part."

...

Deep in the valley.

Inside a large tent.

Matthew met Sif.

She was a beautiful girl with reddish-brown hair and a lovely face. Her skin was clean, with only a few faint freckles on the left side of her nose, giving her a playful and mischievous look.

Right now, she was wrapped in a thick blanket.

She appeared unconscious.

"Who is this girl?" Matthew asked knowingly.

"The only daughter of the Blood Flag family," Fayn proudly raised his head. "You should know what kind of blood flows in her veins..."

"As long as the ritual is successful, we can summon the 'Catastrophe' that will destroy everything."

Matthew remained silent.

He really didn't know what was special about the Blood Flag family's bloodline.

He tried to ask indirectly:

"How did you capture her?"

Fayn didn't get too cocky:

"That's something you'll find out after joining the cult."

"How about it? Sir, I've shown enough sincerity, and you haven't even told me your name."

Matthew improvised:

"You can call me Rog."

"If you join us, what can I get?"

Fayn nodded:

"So, Mr. Rog, our mission is to awaken the 'Catastrophe' through a great ritual. Each successful ritual brings rewards and treasures from our lord. If you join, you'll have a share of these blessings."

"After you reach the Fourth Tier, our lord might even bestow a bone dragon upon you."

Bone dragon?

I already have one.

Matthew thought that this sorcerer could spin a good tale better than he could.

But on the surface, he still showed a hint of excitement:

"What do I need to do then?"

Fayn's eyes twinkled:

"A little test, sir."

"Since you can kill Blackthorn, you must have mastered the 'Death Veil,' right?"

...

Death Veil.

A level 12 necromancer spell.

Its effect is equivalent to a small-scale, weakened version of the "Plague of Undeath"!

Wherever Death Veil shrouds, all creatures are rapidly drained of their life energy.

Then, one by one, they are transformed into undead.

...

"I will," Matthew said, frowning. "But the spell's effectiveness is not great. Even a disabled person has a chance to escape the range of the veil with enough will."

This is the awkward part of Death Veil.

It sounds powerful.

A smaller version of the Plague of Undeath.

But compared to the constant instant death judgment of the Plague of Undeath, Death Veil's killing efficiency is frustratingly low.

Even a necromancer who is inclined to harm innocents would not bother learning this spell.

"What if they just stand still and let you kill them?" Fayn said with a smile.

Matthew's mind raced, and he nodded immediately:

"Naturally, that can work."

"Very well," Fayn said, pushing open the tent's door and gesturing for the two of them to step outside.

They were now outside the camp.

Fayn shouted loudly:

"Anglais! Bring everyone over here."

Then he looked at Matthew and said in a low voice:

"Prepare the spell."

Matthew objected:

"Are you insane? Casting a spell in front of all these people, they'll tear me apart!"

"No, trust me, they won't," Fayn said firmly. "You've tampered with them..."

Matthew was puzzled:

"But why would you do this? These people may be useless, but you must have spent a lot of money on them, right?"

"Sir, it seems you have too many questions," Fayn showed a hint of displeasure for the first time. He continued talking.

Meanwhile, everyone had gathered, including the two guards who had been watching over Sif's tent.

Fayn suddenly let out a sharp, piercing scream -

Fifteen seconds later, these people covered their heads in pain.

One by one, they knelt on the ground.

At the same time, fine gray threads appeared on the surface of their skin, like whips.

These gray threads floated in the air, emitting a strong aura of evil!

...

"Insight: Sorcerer Fayn used 'Deception'!"

...

"Begin, Mr. Rog!" Fayn looked at Matthew with a sinister glare. "Anglais, take that girl and prepare my carriage!"

He beckoned again.

Matthew looked around.

He noticed that, aside from the large tent where Sif was kept, there were many smaller tents in the valley.

These small tents were not for people to live in.

There seemed to be something inside.

...

"Insight: You sense a strong aura of deception, this is the technique of 'Deception Constructs'."

...

Deception Constructs.

Death Veil.

Matthew suddenly realized:

He wanted to create a batch of true undead here!

Different from ordinary undead, 'undead' imbued with the elements of deception were even more terrifying and malevolent!

"Are you leaving?" Matthew took out his staff and looked directly at Fayn.

"Yes, before you arrived, I received a secret message - the Blood Flag family's response is faster than I expected. Unfortunately, I have to postpone the ritual and abandon this base."

Fayn explained coldly:

"Their people are on their way, and of course, I have to prepare some surprises for them."

"If you don't intervene, these Deception Constructs will only give them a small amount of trouble; but if you can create true undead in the main material plane, not only can it cause a significant loss to the Blood Flag family, it might even please our lord."

"Mr. Rog, out of courtesy and respect, I've told you everything I shouldn't have. Now... don't disappoint me."

Saying that, he put his right hand on his sword.

And his left hand pressed on a spellbook engraved with the sinister image of a wolf's head.

...

"In that case, I understand."

Matthew smiled faintly, then raised his withered wood staff and chanted a low incantation.

Fayn stepped back to what he considered a safe distance.

He watched Matthew with a guarded expression.

Until that moment.

A strong sense of warning surged through him!

"I forgot to tell you, although I'm a necromancer, I'm actually a good person," Matthew smiled slightly. "And by the way, Fayn, I already have a bone dragon."

As he spoke, a silent roar stole all sound from the valley.

In the distorted air.

A massive creature covered in bones descended from the sky!

Fayn and Anglais, their faces filled with terror, tried to move their bodies.

But they couldn't.

An aura of dominance spread like ripples in a calm pond.

...

"Your summoned creature, Pharolucius, has used the ability 'Dragon's Majesty'!"

...

Sorcerer Fayn and Dark Knight Anglais fell into states of dizziness, weakness, and terror.

...

"Duration: 12 seconds."

Chapter 11 >>

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