The Golem Mage

808: Disagreement 3.

808: Disagreement 3.

Alec walked over to where the Type 3 zombie bodies were kept and swiped his hand again, aiming to absorb about fourteen of them into his spatial ring, as a small, swirling light appeared, lifting the selected amount of bodies into the air before they vanished into his space ring.

The City Lord’s eyes widened in disbelief, after Alec’s move, only four high-rank zombie corpses remained on the ground.

He didn’t actually need the zombies corpses, but he had no intention of letting the Gordons get their hands on them so easily.

As he still couldn’t figure out their sudden interest in the corpses of fallen second-dimensional invaders, especially not zombies, whose bodies held virtually no value.

Their power stones were corrupted, making them unusable for cultivation unless someone intended to become a zombie themselves.

And it was also not as if they had power crystals suitable for forging spirit equipment, which made the Gordons’ insistence on claiming the corpses all the more suspicious, the City Lord was less troubled by the actual corpses and more by the mystery behind the Gordons’ intentions.

The uncertainty unnerved him, he hated not knowing their next move.

He was already shaken by the advanced technique behind the spirit equipment they’d displayed which he still had no idea how they had entered into his city considering the fact that the City hall dealt in such business with all the clans in the city as they used War merit for its exchange,

And there was also the issue of healing pills that had used by the two Gordons Elders and Alec.

Everything about the Gordons seemed to grow more mysterious by the moment, and from his perspective, that was a dangerous thing.

Just as he was about to speak, a hand landed on his shoulder, pulling him slightly back, turning, he saw it was his own son—Alistair.

“Fourteen high-rank zombies were taken down by the Gordons.

It might be embarrassing, but they really contributed more to this battlefield than many of the other clans combined,” Alistair said via mental transmission.

The City Lord finally stepped back, unable to voice a single complaint.

Just looking at Alec made him want to explode, to crush the boy’s head.

But there was nothing he could do, Alec had used the laws of the Northern Kingdom to corner him completely.

If he decided to go on in his intention to punish Alec, it would make it seem like he had no regard for the kingdom’s laws- which, on its own, was a serious offense.

And just like that, Alec stepped back and allowed the Gordon clan’s mid-rank mages to move in and collect the exact number of corpses corresponding to their kills, by the time they were done, a little over fifty percent of the mid-rank corpses remained.

“How exactly do the mid-rank mages of the Gordon clan know the exact number of enemies they’ve slain?

Are you trying to rig this just because your clan had a good battle?” the City Lord finally snapped, unable to hold his frustration any longer.

His mission had been clear from the start: whatever the Gordons were after, they wouldn’t get it.

He couldn’t argue about the low-rank or high-rank corpses, they influence were too obviously and could be measured.

But the mid-rank battlefield had been the most chaotic, full of blood and overlapping skirmishes, and he felt there was no way, that anyone could accurately keep count of their kills under those conditions.

But Alec only smiled.

“Don’t worry, since I’m in such a good mood, I don’t mind explaining it to you, esteemed lord, you see, my clan was having a contest to see who could rack up the most kills, both in the low and mid ranks.

So every single member was keeping count, all because the one with the highest number was to receive a reward.”

“And before you question the validity of this, you can ask any mid-rank mage from the other clans who fought nearby.

I’m sure they would’ve heard our members shouting out to keep tally.”

“Funny enough, we never imagined that our little game would end up being what proves our innocence.” Alec added with a smirk,

His calm, confident explanation left the City Lord completely speechless, it was like every question he asked, Alec already had a sharper answer ready, almost as if he could see the future and plan around it in advance.

The City Lord turned to the city guardians, and those at the front gave a silent nod.

They too remembered seeing the Gordon mages counting aloud with each kill during the battle, at the time, it had seemed absurd to them, as to why would anyone bother shouting numbers during such a dangerous, chaotic fight?

It had looked like a joke, a strange habit from the Gordons mages who didn’t understand the gravity of war.

But now, knowing the real reason behind the counting, it was even more baffling.

While everyone else was fighting for their lives, gripped by fear, the Gordons had turned the battlefield into a competition, a game to see who could rack up the most kills for a reward in their clan.

It left the others questioning whether the Gordons were simply on a different level or a different realm altogether, as how could anyone face such danger with such calm?

It was unreal.

“Now that I think about it, we didn’t even take the bodies of our dead members, but that’s fine, we’re satisfied with the ones we’ve collected,” Alec said, swiping his hand over the mound created by the Gordon clan’s mid-rank kills, drawing them into his spatial ring.

With that done, he turned toward the bodies of their fallen clansmen, they had been beheaded to prevent them from turning into zombies after their demise.

Alec signalled to a few nearby mages, who stepped forward to gather the remains, since their bodies were still mostly intact, they would be given an honourable burial at the clan’s memorial grounds.

It was a way of showing respect to the warriors who had proven themselves, even in death.

Alec felt pride—not sorrow—for their sacrifice.

He then looked up to the top of the city gates, where those infected that had taken pills from the Gordons waited.

His eyes swiftly locked onto the man whom the Fourth Elder had given a pill to earlier, as he could see the same man was now trying to cutting off his own infested hand.

The moment the blade severed the limb, it seems the suppression effect that was placed on the virus vanished, as most of the pill’s potency had been focused on containing the infection in that limb, and with it now detached I was free to an extent, a surge of green blood exploded from the wound, firing through the air like a symbiote, streaking toward his eyes with terrifying speed.

It happened in an instant, and before the mage could even react, the virus invaded his brain through his eyes, killing him immediately.

For mages, the brain is a vulnerable spot, and once pierced, death follows almost instantly, as soon as life left his body, those nearby stood in shock, any others who had considered cutting off infected limbs swiftly abandoned the idea.

But that wasn’t the end.

A split second later, the mage’s lifeless body rose to its feet, eyes dull and void of life, his flesh began to bulge grotesquely, the transformation into a zombie already underway.

In that moment, a flash of lightning cracked beside him, revealing the arrival of Tempest Butcher, without hesitation, he swung his right arm, bringing down a one-handed lightning axe with a hooked edge toward the transforming mage’s neck.

The first strike met resistance, the axe hooking into the back of the neck, without pause, lightning flashed in his left hand as a second axe appeared—identical, but gripped in reverse.

With fluid precision, he hooked the second axe into the front of the mage’s neck.

With both axes locked in place, he exerted force in a single brutal motion, decapitating the mage before the transformation could be completed, the body twitched violently, already showing signs of mutation, its right hand had even began regenerating and its form warping.

And the virus, which had just began to gained full control over the body, suddenly found itself losing its grip over the bodies as the head was falling down.

It hadn’t yet merged with the mage’s lingering consciousness to initiate the final evolution path to chose which route into a Type 3 Zombie the mage would transform into, as it felt it’s thoughts Disoriented and fading, its control was slipping slowing, due to the fact that it had connected to a brain it was dying for sure this time unlike when it was in the hand.

Before the virus could process where it made a mistake, Tempest Butcher slammed his right axe into the severed head, driving the blade deep into the brain, the blow ended the virus life short, killing the virus faster than even its natural shutdown would allow.