3x Cloning System: The Fleshmancer's Undead Army is full of Heroes-Chapter 28: Esmeralda’s Dying Wish

"Oh?" Clayton pulled his head back, shocked, and then he sighed in relief, "You’re alive? Good."

"You did tell us to hide," One of them answered, and she was Lara. "I grabbed Rufus, and made us invisible. I can’t fight a Basilisk, but I can hide from it."

Rufus and Lara were okay, they were alive. Though he did not fully understand why it took them so long to answer him, after he had been calling their names for a solid two minutes, he was still happy that they were alright. He wouldn’t want them to die while following his lead.

"I don’t think anyone can fight a Basilisk," Clayton followed along, "I’m certain I lost my liver when it hit me."

It took Clayton little time to catch up with his friends. After he was sure that they were okay, he didn’t care to discuss with them any further. He didn’t care what they were feeling, and he didn’t care to hear Rufus’ horrendous, and sometimes even sexual descriptions in regards to the Basher Basilisk. He did not know how it was possible to sexualize an eight-legged scaly beast, and he did not care to explore the thought process either.

Instead, he focused all of his attention on Esmeralda, and the Summoner she was holding hostage. With the Basher Basilisk stationary, obedient to the point where it didn’t even move a muscle, Clayton simply knew that this was the best time for him to figure out the odds and ends of this situation, post the bloody calamity. There was a puzzle to figure out here, and with his pain gone, he could finally put his upgraded IQ into use.

Clayton got close, and as the torch on his hand shone light on the mastermind behind the attack, he saw a rather feminine chin poking out. The Summoner was wearing a hood, so most of her face was covered so well that not even the torch could shine light on it, but he saw enough to know that he was dealing with a young woman.

Avoiding Esmeralda’s sword, he reached his arm out, and gently pulled the Summoner’s hood down.

The torch’s yellow rays shed light on the face of a twenty-something brunette. Her skin was clean, shiny, and her jawline defined. Her face was expressionless, she wasn’t under any sort of panic whatsoever, which he found to be quite interesting, as she still had a sword close to her throat, drawing out a line of blood, a tiny slice.

"Alright, now who might you be, miss?" He asked, "Why, by the love of Thaleena did you attack us?"

"You mention Thaleena a lot for a guy who renounced her," Rufus barked in the background, pointing out the obvious, getting under Clayton’s hair, or bouncing off his shiny bald head. "Stick with your beliefs, big guy, or the lack of."

"Don’t interrupt me, Rufus," He answered, though he did not turn around to face him, "I may have renounced my faith, but I’d rather speak kindly of Thaleena rather than praise whatever demon you worship."

"Let the girl answer, for goodness’ sake," Lara added, "She’s in deep shit already."

"Am I?" The Summoner said.

Those were the first words she said ever since she was held hostage, and she followed it up with, "If you kill me, you better be sure you can kill Thomas, because otherwise you won’t make it out of these woods. Tread lightly."

"Thomas?" He parroted.

"Yes, the Basher Basilisk behind you is Thomas," Her lip twitched, irritated, "Short for Tyrgurthaus Rama Xethamus, Master of the Forest."

"Which forest?" He asked, "Certainly not this one. I’ve lived up here for four decades, young one, and I never ran into a Basilisk. If I did, the Chapel of Thaleena would’ve been destroyed a long time ago."

"Well, I suppose he comes from a forest, if not this one?" She followed along, "Now I do believe it is time for us to strike a deal. Because for one thing, I didn’t know you folks were Monks of Thaleena, and second, I didn’t know you were a Dark Mage. We Dark Mages must stick together, rather than kill one another. But if you choose to kill me, just remember that Thomas will finish what he started."

"Damned Thomas," He mumbled.

Afterwards, he asked, "Why do you go around sicking your pet in the dead of night? Asking for a damn peace treaty after you killed off most of my slaves is not as noble of you as you believe it to be. It’s hypocrisy in its definition!"

As Rufus listened to Clayton talk, he had to walk away in response. He had known Clayton for a short time, but hearing an old man spouting sub-philosophical sentences, seemingly at random, was too much for him to handle. He walked away, and giggled like a deranged little girl, so as to give Clayton the benefit of not interrupting his conversation, or at this point, his interrogation.

"Hypocrisy?" The Summoner repeated, "You’re wearing the armor of the damned, and so were your undead. I was sent out here to hunt an army of Heroes, and their subordinates, so how was I supposed to know that your slaves were undead, and not Heroes? That’s your mistake, now, I ask you again, move this damned sword away from my throat, or I’ll go ahead and lean on it. I have no trouble dying, but I know you do."

"Armor of the damned," He chuckled, "I like that."

Afterwards, he looked at Esmeralda, and said, "Let her go, I suppose. The worst is already over, and I can always raise more of the undead if I need them."

Esmeralda, the undead Princess, looked him straight in the eye, and said, "No."

"No?" He straightened his back, and glared at her. 𝒇𝒓𝙚𝒆𝔀𝓮𝓫𝒏𝓸𝙫𝓮𝓵.𝓬𝙤𝙢

"No," She repeated, "I studied for months, preparing to face you, monster, and I am ashamed that I didn’t manage to kill you. My father was right to want you dead, I understand him now more than ever, and you will die today. You will kill yourself. May I fall as soon as you lose your head, but at the very least, my bones will rest well knowing that I saw you, and that ugly grin of yours, die."

She then doubled down with her request, "Kill yourself! Die by your own sword, and buy your passage to Hell, where you belong!"