Maid with Necromancy

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Harmony was unable to pay attention to the last pet battle before. The announcement and auction pulled at her, setting her skills on edge. Her soul involuntarily readied for conflict, from the desire to kick or dodge every problem to the icy cold numbness that battled with the proper etiquette of the situation. [Manipulate Dead] even flared up as she gripped the bone throne allowing her fingers to create indentations like she’d squeezed soft clay. Never had she internally felt so out of step. As stressful as the situation was poised to be, it felt unfair that her internal chaos should add so much to it.

[Familiar Bond] relayed Hyacinth’s confidence. The shadow toad was always there for her. She felt a tidbit of pride that made no sense. Confidence was one thing, but pride? It was like Ambrosia’s smirk. He’s not a shadow toad. He’s a damned snake. They’ve done something, the bastards. She took a slow breath and delved into her stat of connection. She felt something there and searched inside herself. A class or profession change could get her out of this mess. Mythical elixirs were rumored to exist and could cause that, at least in fairytales. Those devils dosed her with something, didn’t they? What had both her familiar and friend gloating?

“That’s it! What a match! The kind you’ll tell your grandchildren about! Now on to our special announcement. Let’s give a warm welcome to the duke and guild master.”

“Bones.” The necromancer swore as she ripped her attention away from herself.

The pair was already walking out, waving to the crowd, larger-than-life projections of them formed as they reached the center of the Colosseum.

Guild master Hemlock smiled, and Harmony felt a skill’s effect creep into her for the second time that day. A familiar, agreeable state, the last time it had taken equipping her armor as she raged against the skills machinations. This time pushing against the effect worked, it was too familiar, and there was no space inside her for it to take hold. Was it weaker, having been stretched far and over the crowd?

“Welcome, great citizens of Hazeldown. The dungeon and the guild that manages it has played an honored part in your daily life. It is with great pleasure that I can announce its near future expansion thanks to the generosity of Duke Darren Gnomstock. Applaud him, please.”

The crowd in the benches under the guild master’s skill clapped enthusiastically. About half of the auction attendees, including Ambrosia and her bandmates, joined in. Lord Tyler had a slow, forced clap, while many of the more influential people looked irritated.

The duke swelled at the attention, forced as it were. “This is a historic moment where all who participate will be recorded for posterity. I, Acting with authority given to me, will usher in a new age for our small kingdom.” He pulled off a medal, a badge of authority, from his chest and pointed it towards Hemlock. “With this, I give guild master Hemlock the authority to negotiate on behalf of the kingdom with the dungeon.”

Harmony could hear the quiet rumble of a rising storm centered around the badge of authority. It was the first time she’d really felt the effect of authority in use. Lord Tyler strengthened his skills with the aristocratic trait, but she hadn’t felt any vibrations then. Power was granted, and the poor duke added nothing to the act, relying on the borrowed authority of the totem.

“With this authority, I call on the bargains of old. Spirit Ha’zel Ri, where the terms of renegotiation apply. A challenger, a sacrifice, a fated destiny!” The duke continued, and the badge’s authority rumbled again. This time, the duke added a little whistle to the rumble. “I can feel it, my authority.” The man was giddy, not caring about broadcasting his excitement to the crowd.

Harmony felt the toe-tingling domain of the dungeon rise up from below; death, decay, and ancient power carrying the threat of violence and a final end. “I only got this maid’s uniform this morning.”

It didn’t break her heart, but damn, was he disappointed. Her armor, Night, snapped into place, swapping with her more modest and finally professional-looking maid uniform. The manor’s new gift was destined to be turned to scraps.

It wasn’t entirely shocking when the skeleton rose from the ground before her. Standing up from her chair, she kicked it. Not an ordinary kick. This was the first time she could truly get her current frustrations out in an acceptable manner. She could almost hear her skills merge. [High Kick] synergized with Grace, Bearing, and even the defensive aspects of [Small Armor] to perfect the strike. [Renew Spirit] to add a bit of extra oomph, frost tipped her Night’s metal-tipped shoes, hardening it, [Manipulate Dead] sent a ripple of grinding energy to destabilize the bone, making it brittle moments before the strike lands. A perfect blow, empowered by [Mana Rotation] and using all her current stats, skills, and knowledge.

Crack! Foot met skeleton. The skeleton didn’t budge a bit. Harmony’s foot flared up like she’d stubbed her toe kicking a solid anvil. Nothing broke only due to the skill of her overpowered strike. [Poise and Bearing] kept her holding back a stream of public profanities. The immobile grim smile on the skull seemed wider to her eyes.

The skeleton in front of her wasn’t the only one. Matched with every guest was one, and as she looked out, the stands were filled as well, the bony companions apparently having been able to rise out of the structure as well as the ground.

She wasn’t the only one who’d chosen to attack them. Max slashed ineffectively at his. Lord Tyler punched out of surprise, and Harmony could hear the authority behind his blow. A skeleton jumps out at you, or in this case, rises out of the ground in front of you. Attacking was the reasonable thing to do. Those were the kind of reflexes that kept you alive when you dove into the dungeon.

The maid knew that after the skeleton had survived that strike, she could do nothing to harm it. A lot of people started to notice that and stopped. Max continued to flail against the skeleton near him. The evolved people in the room hadn’t moved against theirs. Lady Coodly merely stared at hers, irritated.

“Fear not. You are all honored as witnesses. These spirits represent connection and calling. For there is finally a challenger. Your belief in me makes me stronger. The marked will come forth, and the bargaining will commence.”

The skeleton extended a hand to Harmony as though she was a guest to be escorted.

Of course, this was going to happen today, Harmony fumed. Hemlock clearly had this planned. Why buy the cow when you can get the milk for free. Washing his hands of the need to buy her employment contract. Saying no to the guild master was one thing. Refusing an invitation from the dungeon in its domain was another, not that the old spirit hadn’t seemed inclined to wait. This act of authority forced everyone to come together.

She took the skeleton’s hand and allowed it to escort her. Hyacinth hopped by her side, and together they stepped out of the guild’s viewing room and into the arena.

“Hey!” Her princely pet cried out.

Don’t get involved. Don’t get involved. Don’t get involved. Internally Harmony found Adric’s bond and commanded him to stay. No one else seemed likely to interrupt this act.

“Put me down!”

That drew a glance from the necromancer. The skeleton had grown in size, thrown the prince over his shoulder, and hauled him along like a damsel in distress. The man continued to scream and struggle, but it was no use.

‘Harmony did her best I-don’t-know-this-person face and continued on her way. Admitting she knew the raised prince was a recipe for trouble. Through her bond, she changed the instruction to him to calm down. There were many reasons why the dungeon might want to claim a free undead in the city. The duke was even on a mission to find him. She hoped others were to be escorted. No others came, though.

The crowd was starting to break out of their shock and talk. Harmony walked away from those barely audible conversations across the sand. Above, lights began to flicker and spark until, once again, she found herself projected for all to see, her armor glittering with stars in darkness even in the midday sun.

The pet battle fans in the crowd gasped at that as their conversations became a rumble at the events unfolding. Harmony could feel their confusion, excitement, and wonder as if this was only an unusual performance that was part of the mid-tournament entertainment. The necromancer knew it was gravely real. Once again, she felt the center of attention.

The masked man being hauled into the picture only brought confusion. The skeleton holding him dropped Adric into the dirt near the group. The duke looked perplexed, and having met guild master Hemlock a few times, Harmony could see a slight twitch to his right brow on his otherwise relaxed and pleasant demeanor, a crack in the facade.

The duke smoothed his finely tailored clothes. “Well, let’s see who we have here.” He walked over and ripped off the black privacy mask with three steps. Now here was the most recognizable face in the city. Sketches, posters, dolls, costumes, and the long parade of a funeral procession had burned that oh-too-pretty visage into the collective consciousness of the people living in Hazeldown. Except here he was, panting, flushed, with a frustrated smolder in his eyes, hair muffed yet perfect in a wild way and looking oh-so-alive.

The crowd went wild, ignoring the skeletons at their sides. The roar caused Duke Darren to stumble a moment, his face working out how he should react to this revelation. “The…” his voice projected out, but the crowd’s noise eclipsed his projected voice. With a few irritated breaths, he huffed until it died down. “The dungeon has gifted me with the missing prince. Helping me complete my mission here and proving my worthiness.”

That was one way you could distantly stretch the situation if one had a healthy amount of ego. The man could take all the credit and attention.

Harmony knew what was coming as the rising feeling from below took on a more complex depth to the sense of terror it produced. Talking was a waste of energy. Internally Harmony focused on her skill [Renew Spirit] and the supportive physical skills, letting herself relax into a standing position where she’d stay on her feet even if she lost consciousness, aligning her spine and letting her weight flow down with almost no effort.

“The dungeon comes!” Duke Darren yelled as though it hadn’t been obvious enough.

A screaming pillar of white energy shot out into the sky, and Harmony lost a second or two as the force of death overwhelmed her. Her preparations kept her upright on her feet as she felt her brain re-awaken. Blinking her eyes, Old Bones appeared not as a large fluffy dog rougher her size but a lean white wolf nearly twice the height of the duke.

“Well, I wasn’t expecting this. Old clauses in play.” Old Bones said with a hint of amusement.

Guild master Hemlock stepped forward and bowed low to the dungeon. “I’m the negotiator for this meeting. Granted authority by the highest representative of the government present. When it comes to discussing terms, it will be my honor to have you deal with me.”

Harmony could hear the old spirit grumble the word “Climber.” Under its breath, not loud enough to be picked up and projected to the crowd.

Before Hemlock even straightened, Gnomstock stepped forward. “I have initiated this challenge. I have brought the required marked and will have my authority recognized. I am ready for my role.”

The oversized wolf looked to Harmony with her shadow toad, then to prince Adric and gave an amused tilt to its head, then around to the space in the immediate vicinity, searching and finding only the duke and the negotiator. “Are you sure?” The dungeon asked the man.

“I have been waiting for this moment my whole life! I will be a part of history.”

Ha’zel Ri looked at the desperate man before him. “Those are some old clauses from a harsher time. You have an appointed negotiator who can modify them.”

“No delay. I want it now! I brought this forth for a challenge and have the marked you want. Authority, challenger, and sacrifice. That is the contract. I insist!”

Harmony watched the interaction. She knew why she was brought here, even guessing that her bonded pet wasn’t exempt from the procedure. Hyacinth probably would have been carried due to their bond if he’d tried to stay behind. The duke’s spoiled excitement wasn’t unusual. She’d seen the same energy from Tyler at times. Where no one existed except for the man and their wants. She puzzled how he said challenger, but the sideways glance he gave her when he mentioned sacrifice made everything click. He thinks that… Do I say something?

“Well, if you insist.” The dungeon replied. Then it was too late.

A spirit of death, even without an enormous mouth, has no trouble ending a life. Still, it used those jaws, and as quick as Old Bones accepted the insistence, the duke was snapped up and swallowed whole. The collective gasp from the watching audience could be heard, and the necromancer found herself joining them.

“Now, my challenger, Lady White, we have the challenge to discuss.”

The perception of time slowed. Chronostasis allowed her to think quicker than she could act. Internally the pressure of the attention and the swelling of her soul spaces snapped together. It has been making room, all the discomfort, all the feelings of eyes on her, the connections came soaring in. It was too much to fight. Like with rapids, sometimes you have to let go and accept it. People had expectations of her that surpassed the roles her profession and class gave her. Those expectations granted authority to her, and now her damned friend’s actions made perfect sense. She could almost pick out their expectations among the nearly innumerable ones flooding into her and adding to her skills and powers.

Ambrosia had planned or at least hoped that she’d transform. The songs, the performance, the dedication it was all obvious now. All those books Tyler ignored that his grandma had lent him about making connections, friends, and an image for yourself to strengthen your authority. Gaining a noble class or profession was more common when you evolved. The rare spontaneous gains were footnotes or parts of legends and fairy tales.

Hyacinth’s pride and Ambrosia’s excitement. The unending feeling of attention and lack of control over her skills since she woke up. Hearing the authority acting today when she hadn’t detected anything before. Even Old Bones saw what was going on. Reluctantly Harmony accepted what was happening.

The connections came in. Everyone’s expectations represented power, creating the authority act in a brutal world. Authority’s voice was what the books called it. It was what separated adventurers grinding away from heroes needing support to defend against tides of conflict. It added sound to the maid’s inner space as the rapids rushed, and her skills had their own songs. They sang.

Harmony accessed the new notification as the change settled in

Profession changed from Maid to Lady Maid.

Thankfully not a lady necromancer. Aristocracy was bad enough without the threat of some misunderstanding about a potential future of her being a queen necromancer or sovereign of the dead. But once again she found herself, and the limits of her abilities changed.

Tyler’s books talked about the use of authority. Even then, she hadn’t paid much attention to the topic, skimming the text for potentially useful things that were not on that topic.

Perception snapped back to its slow pace. Stuffed with granted authority, Harmony let out a groan that even her social skills couldn’t suppress.

“Congratulations, my lady,” Hemlock told her with a smile she wanted to kick off his face.

Prince Adric started screaming.

Harmony didn’t even resist the urge to run over to her pet. Cold logic told her she shouldn’t. She fought that desire to stay frozen. Damn that side of her. Authority made his caring expectations of her so clear that it tugged at her heart and nestled there. So, she let her feet take her to him and took the large man into her arms. All she could do was prop him from sitting. His screaming died into a whimper.

“Your primal bond will be fine. Their profession change is long overdue and more arduous.” Old Bones assured her. “And an interesting choice you made for a pet.”

The echo of that voice let Harmony know that the dungeon blew her secret as the Colosseum’s sound projection delivered the news to everyone. Would having the dungeon’s blessing save her from angry royals? She could have a meltdown or accept the revelation with some level of dignity. “You’re concern honors me, Ha’zel Ri.”

“Now that’s a fascinating profession, The Lady’s Pet Prince. One I’ve never seen, yet how appropriate.” Old Bones added.

That was enough of a prompt to cause the audience to cheer again, even after watching Duke Darren’s grisly demise. Through her connection to them from authority, she could tell some still doubted the reality they saw in front of them.

Once the crowd died down, the dungeon spirit spoke again. “Shall we discuss the challenge?”

This was already a challenge. Harmony felt as exhausted as she had when she woke up in Old Bones’s presence the first time. “A wise spirit once told me to consolidate my gains before taking a challenge. I need to do just that. The negotiator will handle all the details.”

She watched the guild master puff up excitedly at this. It was clearly the accomplishment he needed to progress. She knew this whole mess was his fault, including misleading the duke about the challenger and the sacrifice. She wanted to kick him between the legs. But right now, she was exhausted and needed his skills.

“Very well.” The dungeon answered with more amusement.

“Please take him with you. I’m sure the negotiations will be extensive, so take days, months even. Negotiate privately, away from prying eyes. I can’t think of any place better than the heart of your domain to have them in.”

She watched Hemlock’s eyes widen as if he wanted to yell, “wait!”

“Of course.” Old Bones said with even more enjoyment.

As quick as he’d snatched up the duke, a flash of white pulsed, encapsulating the spirit and guild master Hemlock. She could feel the thick presence of death retreat quickly deep into the dungeon’s domain. The skeleton companions crumbled into dust.

Harmony could feel prince Adric slowly come to his senses. The pair rested at the center of the arena floor, watched over by a sizeable haughty toad. Beside them was a red stain in the sand representing the former duke. Her eyes cast up to see the projection of this hovering above for everyone to see. This was not how she expected the day, the week, or the season to go.