A New Dawn 90 Cultist Lair On Sale, Big Discoun

On the other hand, the old man was still thinking about his future and the fate of Gwendoline. It wasn't necessarily out of sheer kindness that he was willing to sacrifice for her. But since his death was a.s.sured, he only hoped to leave on a good deed this cruel world. Not that she will ever understand what he did since he had seen the sad state of mind the beautiful woman was in. And now, as he was walking this path where he couldn't stop or go back, he met this impa.s.sive lich.

"h.e.l.lo? Do you hear me? DIE FOUL MONSTER! … no reaction … weird." He tried several things to at least get something out of the immobile undead. He even began to cast a spell, but that changed nothing. After feeling a bit lost, he just sat on the ground and felt that he was far too old for that type of bulls.h.i.+t. He was also feeling that he hadn't got any rest since he had to travel to this place in the night and only arrived at the earliest hours of the morning.

"Ah, the sacrifice, you are finally here. How was the travel?" The slightly mocking, but very lively, voice woke up the old man from his thoughts. The previously stoic undead was now vigorously moving its limb. He couldn't understand this type of behavior since it looked the same as a warrior flexing his body before a fight or a duel. Any training grounds on this planet would have people doing the same exact movements that the lich was currently performing. But, they had muscles, that's why they were doing that. It was useless for someone dead to care about it, no?

Not caring about the questions that were plastered on the face of the elderly mage, Malakov was getting used to his new body. He had forgotten that he sent a lowly kind of lich in this place, making it awkward for him to transfer his conscience. After all, he couldn't just come with his main body here, if someone by sheer luck found out his presence, it will ruin the entire plan. On the other hand, this lich was still a possibility. An extremely thin one, like knocking a random stone to find out it was gold, but not impossible.

"… good …" The old man still answered mechanically at the question, making the lich smiled. Well, not really since there wasn't enough flesh around its teeth to form a smile. And the sensation of being stared by such a high ranked undead was not necessarily pleasant either.

"Perfect. For the next 4 days we will use this cave as a hideout. You will then proceed to tell me everything that should be found in such a place. How many bodies of young children, how many spines and skulls were broken in tiny pieces, that kind of stuff. Also, are the books written in the normal language or in gibberish that no one can truly understand except some fanatics?"

They had already a good image of what they should prepare, but Meridiana informed him that the old man in front of him had previous dealings with multiple cults. So instead of relying only on the Church of Torment that was located in the Ma.s.salia Kingdom, they will apply the rules of the cults inside the Republic of Avenio. It was possible that some regional traditions existed, like hanging three bloodied heads instead of four. And for that, they will have to rely on the expert in front of Malakov.

As for the human, his feelings were extremely fuzzy and confused. He hadn't expected to be treated like that, and not at all like a prisoner. Either he was truly going insane, or the lich was looking at him sympathetically. At the same time, to be regarded as an expert in cults was weirdly making him a bit proud. Ashamed also, but still proud. He was facing a direct servant of the dark G.o.ds, that were capable of destroying nations by themselves. And if the G.o.ds didn't meddle with them, they would have ruled the entire planet.

But they still earnestly asked the help of an old man like him. He didn't forget that he will die in a few days, but he had seen fates worse than death in all the years he had lived. And as he was getting closer and closer to his final die, he was trying his best to help as many people as he could. To leave a trace of what he did, or at least, have someone remember him after he died. He just hadn't expected that he will go down in history as a monster.

"I am not sure that I can help you a lot. I did saw a lot of cultist bases and …"

"Then that's perfect. But let's talk more inside, we are still in the open. You wouldn't want some moronic heroes to waste all of our work by spotting you too early, no?" The lich was still happily chatting as it was nothing while patting the shoulders of the old human to make him move. The two entered the cave that was discovered by Davion a while ago, but not without Malakov looking behind him one last time. The air suddenly chilled around the dark entry, and two shadows without any form began to cover it, leaving only an uneven terrain in sight.

Of course, the human was oblivious about the amount of undead that was around him. In fact, his very path had been followed with an extremely attentive eye by the Envoy of Leilade. As for the small amount of time the lich made him wait, it was to see how the mage would have reacted. Whether it was useful or not to brainwash him. Seeing that the descriptions made by Meridiana were close to reality, Malakov dismissed the idea and had to resort at being overly friendly.

"So, you were talking about your immense expertise. I am sure you wouldn't have forgotten all those b.l.o.o.d.y details, the immense despair you saw on the face of the victims and the madness inherent at those lunatics?" Even if the voice was trying its best to be warm, the content of the sentences was actually terrifying. Trying his best to forget the fact that the cold hand of the lich was on his shoulder and his empty eye sockets were staring at him, the magician began to feel a bit uncomfortable. Not even the bright light that was casted by Malakov lightened his mood.

"No, all I saw was imprinted in my memory. Even if I tried to forget, those images will come back to haunt me in my sleep. But, the amount of corpses you will need is quite huge, won't you have a problem gathering so much in just a few d…" Without noticing that he was encouraging someone to slaughter other humans, he realized that his concerns about not getting enough corpses were futile. He was dealing with a dark G.o.d, just killing a few people wouldn't be a problem. Right after thinking this, he noticed the dark path his thoughts took and shuddered.

"You don't have to worry about anything related to materials or goods. We have our ways to gather what you will ask. And here we are, behold, your future mad lair." Malakov extended his hands, and the light illuminated the immense room. It was the former goblin territory, and the traces of that race were still plenty. Because it was the only location they truly explored, it was chosen to be the start of their attack on Archet.

Seeing the totems and the mural paintings, as well as the numerous destroyed barricades and burned planks, the old man was a bit perplexed. Was this destroyed only for the convenience of having a room for him? It was not illogical for him to think that just because they wanted this very place, the lich or anything else hadn't just barge in and killed everyone. As he was raising his head to look at the ceiling, he found many dents on it, like someone tried to dig it. But to transform this in only four days, it will take an immense amount of people.

CLAP CLAP

Malakov clapped his hands, and an endless amount of skeletons began to enter from every tunnel. While he had waited for the scapegoat to arrive, he wasn't idling. Just that it was stupid to keep all those skeletons outside, so he had made them wait nearby. At the same time, seeing the shocked face of the human flattered his ego. In a few minutes, nearly all traces of the goblin presence had been erased completely.

"Now that the initial cleaning is over, we need to decorate everything properly. What is first, an altar made of stone and strange runes? Something menacing, like the head of a Ytura or a Koshur? Yes, you don't know those two, so what is it?"

The old man stood silent for a few seconds, pondering about it. "An altar is definitely a good thing. It only depends on the size of the cult, if it has a low amount of members, it doesn't necessarily have everything. But I suppose you want to make me appears as evil as possible. For that, I would want a few instruments of tortures."

For whatever reason, the moment he p.r.o.nounced those few words, the emptiness of the eye sockets of the lich weren't as empty as before. Like, it was getting more and more happy at these recommendations. But it didn't stop with that.

"Now it depends on the mood you want to give to those that will arrive. Is it disgust, making the weakest souls throw up? Despair, seeing the madness lingering in the air? Wrath, what exactly do you want? Well, you say that it is my choice. A bit of all of them then."

The energetic skeletons were already bringing some stones prepared in advance. Bookshelves were also brought, with blank pages that will be filled entirely by the old man. Tables, beds, dishes, everything that was necessary for a human to live in a location. At the same times, walls were being erected and rooms were being dug up to make it look like a lot of members should have been present.

"And about the corpses?" The absolutely not innocent question made by Malakov led the unfortunate human to keep answering without letting him ponder about his own actions. Only by keeping him busy and not allowing him to think about the morality of his actions will the magician help them at the best of his capabilities.

"Not necessarily about the corpses. In truth, some hideouts were extremely clean, without even a drop of blood seen anywhere. No, we need a prison and a room with the altar. Yes, a little further, not here where it will be the dining room and meeting hall. Commune prison or individual cells? Commune, but a little bit divided. 5 persons by cells, but only 1 bed. And by a bed, I mean, 1 pile of straw that could be used as a bed. That way, the five people will fight for it. Yes. As for the room with the altar, fill it with random magical things. Stuff that needs mana to be activated, but isn't necessarily useful in a battle."

He stopped for a second, and Malakov thought that he was noticing the weird mental state he was in. But the next second, he looked at the lich like he was normal and kept talking about corpses and children like they were vegetables. Of course, no one perturbed him in his long list of improvements or additions, whether it was someone from having the iron bar of the cells tainted with blood to having better knives for the kitchen.

During all those days, he never took a moment to rest or even eat. Each time Malakov approached him and lightly tapped his shoulder, he only felt that he was getting more and more alive and energetic. Because his brain was too focused on his mission, and he was also in a cavern in the underground, he didn't even saw the days pa.s.sed. Only after seeing the result of his work, a perfectly authentic and terrifying base of a dark and bloodthirsty cult, did he pondered about the times he spent there.

"You have done an extraordinary work here. I was glad to have work with you until the end." The lich that followed him everywhere he had gone enigmatically left him with those words. But as he was thinking about their meaning, he suddenly felt extremely tired. Without the permanent influx of mana inside his body, he had a hard time even standing on its legs. Stumbling on his way toward a nearby bedroom, he fell on the warm and comfy bed, wanting to rest for a while. Not for long, just a few hours.