Necromancer: Kingdom Building with My Legion of Undead Knights

That was actually good.

It meant the oath wouldn’t trap him if everything went wrong.

This had been his most concern before.

He could try, genuinely try, to pay. And if he failed because he was dead or Percvale was gone, the magic wouldn’t punish him for it. It seemed the path stuf cared about intention, not outcome. That was rare. Most debts didn’t work that way.

”Then yes,” Darion said. ”Five hundred silver. When Percvale is in a position to pay it.”

Vera looked at Seren.

Seren said nothing. She was watching her mother and Darion, the way people watch a negotiation they’re invested in but have decided not to interfere with.

Her face was neutral, but her eyes moved between them like she was reading a conversation happening underneath the words.

”One more condition,” Vera said, turning back to Darion. ”I come to Percvale. I want to see what you’ve built.”

Darion blinked.

She wants to come to Percvale?

He hadn’t expected that. Not at all. The request caught him off guard in a way the negotiation hadn’t. Five hundred silver was a number. This was something else.

”Why?” he asked.

”Because I don’t help people I haven’t assessed in their own context,” she said. ”You’ve told me about Percvale. I want to see it.”

She was right. He knew she was right. Anyone with sense would want to see the place before committing to help defend it. Especially if it was Percvale.

Percvale had been dying for years. Everyone in the region knew that. The idea that a new Baron had shown up and turned things around in a month and some weeks, that was the kind of claim people made when they were lying or desperate or both.

Vera wasn’t the type to take anyone’s word for anything. She needed to see the farmland with her own eyes. The livestock. The knights. The castle. The people who hadn’t left.

If Percvale was still a rotting corpse of a barony, she would walk away. If it was actually improving, she would stay and help.

Darion looked at her for a moment. Then at Seren.

Seren gave him a very small nod. Almost invisible. But he caught it.

”Fine,” he said. ”When?”

”Tomorrow morning,” Vera said.

She stood up.

”You’ll stay here tonight. There’s a spare room.”

It didn’t sound like an offer exactly. More like a statement of what was going to happen. The same tone she had used for the five hundred silver. This is the price. This is how it works. You don’t argue.

”Thank you,” Darion said.

She was already moving toward the shelves, apparently done with the conversation portion of the evening. Her back was to them now, her hands reaching for one of the containers on the wall, her attention already elsewhere.

Seren caught his eye.

She gave him a look that said: That went better than expected.

He thought she was probably right...

———

She served them soup at her small dining table many minutes after Darion had been shown the guest room.

It wasn’t fancy. Just a bowl of something warm with vegetables and a bit of meat.

If Darion was being honest, he hadn’t expected that she served them anything. Since she was supposedly ’Not a nice’ witch, the acts she had been exhibiting was actually ’Nice’.

But then, he decided that this wasn’t too odd, since he was a client, someone she would be helping to get paid in return.

It wasn’t like he was just some random on the street who had come for help and she was doing it from the pure good will from her heart.

Darion ate it slowly, grateful for the heat more than the taste.

Seren would sleep in what used to be her own room when she lived with her mother. Darion didn’t ask how long it had been since she had slept there. The answer was probably written on her face if he cared to look for it.

He was grateful for the guest room. A real bed. Four walls. A door that closed. He couldn’t imagine sleeping at the far end of a rented room again, like he had done at the bar in that town. That had been uncomfortable as fuck. The hard ground... every hour of darkness marked by some new disruption.

This was better. He slept.

---

The next morning, Seren’s knock woke him.

”We’re ready to leave,” she said through the door.

He stood up, didn’t bother with a bath, just splashed water on his face.

Outside, Vera was already prepared. Same with Seren. They stood by the door with their things, waiting for him.

Vera had a large box. Not the small containers he would have expected. This was something else, a wooden case, reinforced at the corners, with a leather strap for carrying. She handled it carefully, like it held things that mattered, which it should do. It was definitely contained the things he had come to her for.

They walked to a carriage yard on the edge of the settlement, where boarded a carriage. It was like paying a Taxi for a ride in the real world.

A man with a tired horse and a worn vehicle agreed to take them to Percvale. Vera paid.

Darion was low-key glad about this. It had been a long time since he had entered a carriage. So long. Actually, when he tried to remember, he wasn’t sure he had ever entered one. As the bastard son of the Emperor, his life had been truly meh. No carriages. No luxury. Just enough to get by, but never enough to feel like anyone cared whether he got by at all.

He climbed in after Seren. Vera sat across from them, the box on the seat beside her.

The driver snapped the reins.

The carriage creaked forward.

To Percvale, Darion thought.

He watched the settlement shrink behind them through the small window. Vera’s house. The street. The carriage yard. All of it falling away as the horse pulled them onto the road.

Ahead, nothing but open ground and the promise of whatever came next.

He leaned his head back and closed his eyes.

The ride would take hours. He might as well rest while he could.