Chapter 137: Chapter 94: Promotion! Lynch Becomes a Half-Step Noble
The Fish Priest piled its bountiful "harvest" in an open area of the camp. It then scurried over to the Skeletal Mage by the campfire, its Soul Fire flickering as if communicating, asking its "big brother" to help "resurrect these new brothers."
Lynch felt this deserved some praise.
Ever since the battle at the Storm Mine where the Undead Army suffered heavy casualties, the Fish Priest and the Skeletal Mage had been even more concerned with replenishing and expanding their numbers than Lynch himself.
One scoured the land for suitable "recruits," while the other performed the Skeleton Resurrection Skill.
It was fair to say that the Fish Priest and the Skeletal Mage were indispensable to the recovery of Lynch’s Undead Corps over the past three months. Thanks to them, the corps had not only recovered but had even grown slightly larger than before. They had done all the heavy lifting.
The Skeletal Mage didn’t hesitate. It walked up to the pile of corpses, raised its Magic Staff, and began to chant.
A pale, deathly energy surged forth, blanketing the corpses.
CRACKLE... CRUNCH...
The corpses of Fishmen, Gnolls, wild boars, squirrels, and foxes began to tremble. Their bones rearranged themselves, and one by one, Skeletons of all shapes and sizes staggered to their feet, automatically falling into line with the nearby Skeleton formations.
Only the human corpse showed no reaction as the deathly energy washed over it.
Sea Song, who had been singing nearby, stopped and looked at the body. "My lord," she reminded him softly, "that person... I think he’s still breathing. He’s not quite dead."
"Not dead?" Lynch’s interest was piqued, and he took a closer look.
The Fish Priest’s Soul Fire flickered in confusion. It didn’t seem to grasp the connection between "not quite dead" and "can’t be turned into a brother."
But it quickly figured it out.
’If he’s not dead, I just have to kill him, right?’
Without a second thought, it whipped out a dagger—confiscated from who-knows-where—and waddled on its short legs toward the human corpse. It looked ready to deliver the finishing blow and send the man on his way, all so the Skeletal Mage could successfully perform the Magic.
"Cough... COUGH COUGH!"
Just as the Fish Priest was about to strike, the "corpse" suddenly broke into a violent coughing fit. He struggled to sit up and shouted repeatedly in a hoarse voice, "Stop! Stop! Don’t kill me! I’m the Seventh Prince! The Empire’s Seventh Prince, Augustus von Grimsby! Don’t kill me!"
"The Seventh Prince?" Lynch was a bit surprised. He mentally commanded the Fish Priest to back away.
Judging by his reaction, the man had probably been awake for a while and was just playing dead.
He sized the man up.
The man appeared to be in his early twenties. His skin was indeed much fairer than that of a typical adventurer or farmer. Though his face was caked with mud and blood, he had refined features and the faint air of someone who had lived a pampered life.
Of course, this alone wasn’t enough to confirm he was actually the Seventh Prince.
As he mulled it over, Lynch couldn’t help but glance at Sea Song, secretly amused.
’My team is really attracting some "royal talent,"’ he thought. ’I haven’t even dealt with the stranded Mermaid Princess, and now I’ve apparently picked up a stranded Seventh Prince of the Empire?’
’Even novels don’t use plots like this much anymore.’
’Besides, the sense of déjà vu is a little too strong. Don’t tell me this "Seventh Prince" also has a mother who died young, a father who dislikes him, and a pack of brothers who are after his throne?’
However, just as Lynch was about to question him in detail, his brow suddenly furrowed.
Just a moment ago, he had lost contact with the few Squirrel Skeletons he had posted as sentries around the camp’s perimeter—all at the exact same time.
’Trouble!’
’And they’re hostile. And fast.’
Before he could react, several powerful auras burst into the camp. Some of them made a beeline for the "Seventh Prince," while the others veered off and charged toward Lynch.
In an instant, the once quiet and peaceful camp was filled with killing intent.
A chill ran down Lynch’s spine as he took in the scene.
’I just got to Red Ridge Mountain. Does it have to be this intense already?’
...
