Mage Manual-Chapter 116 - 106 Necromancer

Chapter 116: Chapter 106 Necromancer

“Stop hitting me already, you won’t kill anyone that way!”

“Can you guys hurry it up? Dozens of us are waiting, and you’re wasting everyone’s time—a minute for you is dozens for us!”

“That’ll do.”

When Ash and the others entered Death Battle Society, what reached their ears was not adrenaline-fueled shrieks, wild roars akin to that of beasts, or malicious jeers but rather utter complaints filled with disdain.

If it weren’t for the chip restrictions that kept these death-row inmates from spewing profanities, Ash was certain he would quickly learn all the classic swear words from every race in the Kingdom of Blood Moon.

As they squeezed through to the front, the inmates pushed to the side showed irritation on their faces. But when they saw it was “Demon,” “Beautiful Beast,” “Gourmet”—these notorious prison thugs—they quickly made way, some even flashing subservient smiles.

...

Although there was no hierarchy among death-row inmates, and even the most powerful could not harm the weakest, not even pull a hair or scratch a freshly manicured nail, as long as they did not step into the death battle arena, they would never be bullied by anyone else.

But the adoration of the strong is innate in all creatures. In this group of death-row inmates, whose moral bottom lines were akin to that of an old man’s diaper, this trait was fully on display. Even though Ash and the others couldn’t harm them in the slightest, they still didn’t want to offend these fearsome individuals.

Ash mentally crossed off these people who made way for him from his list of potential accomplices—being the kindest and most innocent person in this prison, even I am scared of me, how could they possibly act as bait? All failed the test!

Getting to the front, Ash saw two people in the lowest death battle arena. One was a Snake Lizard Clan member covered in dark green, the other was a rare prison acquaintance whose name Ash had forgotten; he only remembered his last name, Harvey.

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After a short observation, Ash understood why everyone was complaining—Harvey was throwing a fake fight.

The Snake Lizard Clan member made no move to retaliate, merely letting Harvey punch his face again and again. Even as his tough, scaled skin cracked and his fine, sharp teeth broke, he kneeled there motionless, calmly looking at Harvey.

It wasn’t until Harvey’s fists were covered in thick blood that the Snake Lizard Clan member slowly said, “Archibald, do you feel better now?”

“Not yet!”

Harvey suddenly knelt down, tore open his shirt, revealing a gaunt figure covered in unsightly scars, his face twisted grotesquely, “Harbron, come on!”

The Snake Lizard Clan member shook his head but still went to pick up the thorny whip lying at the edge of the arena. Ash glanced at it and felt his hair stand on end—the thorny whip was covered in tightly packed barbs, and one could only imagine the delightful pain of being licked by it. Add a bit of salt water and it might just send one’s soul straight to heaven.

Crack! Crack! Crack!

With the dull sounds of lashes, the complaints of the Death Battle Society subsided significantly. Although some ridiculed Harvey for being a fool, more showed respect through their silence—there were two ways to earn the respect of death-row inmates: be ruthless to others or to oneself.

“How is it?” Ash suddenly asked.

“Not bad,” Igula replied. “I’ll investigate his ‘story’ a bit later; there might be something there we can use.”

“Archibald Harvey’s death battle record is 7 wins, 1 loss,” Lanna said. “Because he’s slender, he’s sometimes seen as a target for looting, but his opponents often lose consciousness without realizing it in battler. He’s not weak.”

“We need such hot-blooded men. Just looking at him fires me up!” Ronald clenched his fist. “Let’s go find him right after the death battle ends!”

Igula shook his head. “No rush. We still have time to check out other candidates. Even if we want him, we should wait until I get a hold of something on him. It makes things easier to manipulate.”

“Ugh, you have such a dirty mind!”

“Do you disagree?”

“Yes, you see, the Snake Lizard Clan member seems to have a good relationship with Harvey. If we can’t find a breakthrough with Harvey, perhaps we could use that Snake Lizard Clan member—after all, he just got here and probably still remembers the sweet taste of freedom.”

Igula nodded in admiration, “It’s rare for you to come up with a good suggestion, Ash.”

“It’s nothing, just something I learned from you, Igula.”

Watching the two exchange a snicker like a pair of crooked pals, Lanna maintained his composure, but his mind was immensely surprised. He had observed Igula Bokin and knew that this Swindler was a cold and selfish hedonist, always wearing a professional smile but inherently disdainful of everyone, treating them as tools for his use.

Of course, Lanna wasn’t implying that Igula saw Ash as a friend. If he dared to say such a thing, Igula and Ash would probably think he had gone mad.

But according to Lanna’s observations, the way Igula treated Ash was entirely different from how he treated other inmates. It was neither a calculated flattery nor the disgust reserved for enemies but rather something closer to… sincerity.

Yes, sincerity. Although it seemed naïve to use such a term for a Swindler, that was Lanna’s conclusion.

Perhaps even Igula hadn’t realized that in front of Ash, he had unwittingly let down the mask he had constructed to protect himself. He didn’t hide his loathing, nor his recognition, treating Ash Heath as an equal, conversing normally, arguing normally—the emotional fluctuations Igula had experienced in the past year and a half were nothing compared to these past few days.

Was it because of Ash Heath’s personal charm?

No, Lanna didn’t think so.

It wasn’t that Ash lacked charm, but Igula couldn’t possibly be so easily influenced—not any Two-winged Mage who majored in the Spirit Faction had firmer convictions and will than other mages, let alone the fact that Igula himself was a Swindler skilled in manipulating the hearts of people. How could he possibly undergo a sudden, almost ‘love at first sight’-like change of heart?

In the world of mages, there were no coincidences.

Only “Miracles.”

Although Ronald’s involvement played a part, when Lanna learned that Ash was the initiator of the prison break plan, he strongly realized that this escape plan was bound to succeed.

Unlike Igula and Ronald, Lanna had once been a church employee, a servant of God. He had been bathed in the Divine Being’s glory and was well aware of the vastness of the Divine Lord’s power.

The will of God must be carried out.

To the Extreme Master of Blood Moon, the Shattered Lake Prison, which was impenetrable and closely guarded without a single flaw, was nothing but a bubble that would burst upon a touch, nearly transparent.

To the Gods of Four Pillars, it was the same.

Suddenly, the lights in the Death Battle Society’s hall lit up, the barriers around the arena fell, the arena’s door opened, and the crow Medical Practitioners came out to carry away the Snake Lizard Clan, but when they went to carry away Harvey—Harvey refused to be treated. He didn’t want to be healed.

When the bruised and bloodied Harvey emerged, the death-row inmates instinctively cleared a path for him. Since Ash and the others were waiting for Igula to find some leverage on Harvey, they didn’t immediately go to recruit him.

However, Harvey took the initiative to approach them.

“I’ve been wanting to find you, Ash,” Harvey said. “I have something I’d like to discuss with you.”

“I’m broke.”

“There are too many people here, let’s go—” As Harvey spoke, he reached out to pull Ash away.

Igula caught Harvey’s wrist, smiling, “Sounds interesting. May I listen in?”

Harvey glanced over Igula, Lanna, and Ronald, then slowly nodded: “Of course.”

The five worst criminals quickly left the Death Battle Society and then went to the men’s restroom—there was no helping it, as the closest private environment was just that, and anyway, the restroom was often cleaned and even had a nice scent. They could also turn on the tap to cover the sound of their conversation, making it an ideal breeding ground for conspiracy and manipulation.

“You’ve been planning an escape recently?” said Harvey, wiping the blood off his body with a wet towel, looking at Ash in the mirror.

“Yes.” Igula did not intend to hide it; he had visited famous inmates around the prison in the past few days, and such news couldn’t be kept secret.

But because Ash’s “Miracle” had not been exposed, and considering Igula once used his status as the president of the Prison Break Research Society to enchant newcomers, people either thought Igula was just playing around or planning another conspiracy. Plus, most of the death-row inmates had been domesticated by the prison, so no one really wanted to join, forcing Ash to figure out ways to drag Ronald and Lanna into the scheme.

“I want to join you,” Harvey said as he stuck his head under the faucet, letting the water wet his curly hair. When he lifted his wet head, Ash was surprised to find that when he wasn’t curly, Harvey actually had a rather delicate appearance, lacking the vulgar and perverse look he had with curls.

“I want to escape.”

Ash was overjoyed, but before he could speak, Igula preempted him, “If you want to join us, you need to contribute, show us your value. We don’t lack people right now, and if you don’t play a certain role, there’s no need for us to let you join.”

“Actually, even without any contribution—”

“Shut up!” Igula glared fiercely at Ash, who shrank back with a sense of grievance.

It should have been Igula begging Harvey to join them, but now Harvey was actively wanting in. How could Igula pass up this opportunity? He could set demands while exploiting Harvey’s resources before ‘reluctantly allowing’ Harvey to join. Not only would this make Harvey grateful, but it would also make him fully aware of his own status, ensuring future compliance even if ordered to act as bait.

“Very reasonable demand,” Harvey, looking into the mirror, nodded his head, “I believe my skills will definitely satisfy you—I can operate the processors inside the prison.”

“Hmm, sounds like it could be… What?”

Igula paused, “Processors? You can manipulate the prison’s chip processors? How is that possible!”

“How is it not possible?” Harvey turned to the other four, his wet hair hanging over his face failing to hide the sharpness in his eyes: “If anyone among the death-row inmates could operate a chip processor, it would certainly only be me.”

“Because I’m a Necromancer.”

“And the chip processor is a corpse.”