“If you will wizard, I am ready.”

The lady sat on a chair with eyes closed, her hands balled into fists as if to hold back the expected pain. She had qualms about the ritual, but she held them down as much as she could. This necromancer would not see a trace of weakness from her.

Jeremy stared at the lady, admiring her resolve. He would have admired her more if he hadn’t noticed the single set of cups and saucers on the table as well as the lack of an extra chair.

Getting rid of jerms involved the mildest form of cleansing. Even a fly or gnat wouldn’t be hurt by it. The problem was getting inside the body. Most creatures have a protective layer that prevents or hinders the passage of certain spells — in most people, that would be their skin.

Bypassing this protection required enveloping their entirety into his ward and saturating them with necrotic energy. While certainly dangerous, a few weeks of practice — and a few dozen dead voles and rabbits — refined the procedure, making it safe for human use.

Still, it left people shaken and a little violated. It drove the fear and sensation of death into their very being, leaving them with a bit of mental scarring.

Fortunately, infernal powers tended to have an easier way of entering other people’s bodies. What the wizard was doing was akin to possession — but without the damage to the psyche and soul. All he needed was permission, and the lady just gave it.

Purge the Unseen * Composite Spell * Necromancy

Effect: Bombards a willing target’s body with minimal amounts of Necrotic energy — destroying jerms and parasites that are inside.

The name might seem formidable, but all the spell did was get rid of unseen jerms. It required a willing target to simulate possession, allowing the caster to bypass the protection of the skin.

“Get it over with, wizard,” Lady Amaranth rasped, her voice cracking.

The spell took effect the moment she said she was ready — but Jeremy wasn’t going to tell her that. She earned a bit of dread and panic for not even offering him tea and biscuits.

He would have loved to draw out the so-called ritual, but he had other things to do.

“It is done milady.”

Lady Amaranth opened her eyes and relaxed her tensed body. Her heart stopped its panicked racing when she heard the ritual was over. She hardly noticed anything happening — but she did feel a bit better. When doctors attended to her, they would take longer examinations, and their cures took ages to take effect.

“Your symptoms should be gone by evening, but you should snack on some cheese and wine to avoid stomach troubles.”

“That took a while, wizard,” the lady asks suspiciously. “My handmaidens told me your incident with the miller’s wife lasted seconds. Why did my cleansing take longer?”

“They were commoners, milady,” he answered.

That wasn’t technically a lie. He cleansed the miller’s wife out of instinct — lashing out at her before she could infect him or his butler. While the treatment left the couple shaken, it did cure the woman’s malady. Fortunately, the woman was so close to death, his life ward was more of a familiar presence than an overpowering invasion.

“I used more care in treating your ladyship.”

Again, not a lie since he had learned much from his cleansing of the miller’s wife. This time, he asked for permission, allowing him to channel the spell with less resistance instead of breaking through by force.

“I see,” she nodded. Her mind seemed to be her own and she felt no strange compulsions. Hidden watchers in the room would have alerted her if there was something untoward, but they have yet to send a signal.

“Is there anything more milady? Perhaps some of your servants have also taken ill?”

“No, that would be all, wizard,” she replied. “My attendants would tend to your fee. If your cure works, I will send another 10 gold.”

“As you will, milady,” Jeremy bowed.

He started walking to the door. He knew a dismissal when he heard it.

“You may have a rat in your manor, milady,“ he pauses at the door.

“Which is why we hired you.”

The wizard shakes his head. “A different kind of rat, milady. One that might prove problematic.”

Lady Amaranth pauses at the wizard’s words. Was it spies or something more sinister? Still, she needed to maintain an air of nobility. She couldn’t admit a weakness or vulnerability to an outsider even if she was somewhat taken aback by the revelation.

“This is known to us,” she lied. “It would be taken care of before the gathering.”

“It would be better if you waited until after it’s finished, milady,” he suggested. “I left a surprise for the rat, a trap if you may. It would prove a strong lesson to those who would besmirch the Lilac name.”

“You seem proud, wizard. Are you sure your plan would work?”

“Of course, milady. While I am kind and courteous to friends, allies, and employers — I also bring hell to those who would harm them. Literal hell, milady.”

He considered leaking a bit of his infernal aura to prove his point, but the consequences — which included insanity, crippling fear, and melting minds, among other things — might be frowned upon by the lady and her watchers.

“You value your relationship with the Lilac house that much?” the lady curiously asks. She did not miss the veiled threat wrapped in sweet words of loyalty.

“I value your coin and patronage, milady” he answered truthfully. “I could offer more if our enterprises had some sort of partnership — but I am in no position to ask for one at the moment.”

“Perhaps in the future then.”

This was a dangerous man — but one would rather have death on their side than face it.

“Perhaps, milady.”

Jeremy knew it was a hollow offer, but he appreciated the gesture.

He met with one of the manor’s attendants on his way out and received 12 gold coins. 10 was his usual fee for fairly large manors, but it seems the mistress of the house was being generous.

There were a few papers to sign, notably proof that he performed his duties to the Lilac family. As far as he knew, no other adventurer, merchant, or laborer had to comply with such strict policies.

Instead of immediately reporting to the guards, Jeremy headed to the guild.

Recently, he dabbled on making a new kind of healing potion — one that had the potential to corner the market. He needed a few adventurers to test them out, and the guild was exactly the place to find them.

He endured the usual stares on his way to the guild. While most guilds had a leading identifier like the Merchant’s Guild, the Smithing Guild, or the Mage’s Guild — the Adventurer’s Guild was just The Guild. Not that it was better than the other guilds, the name “Adventurer’s Guild” simply had too many syllables and it lacked the dignity and formality of purpose the other guilds had.

His steps were far from leisurely. While it would have been nice to browse a few wares and buy a few trinkets, taking too long would have alerted the guards or disturbed the peace. Taking down his personal life ward would certainly have made things easier — but the town was a cesspool of biting insects and jerms. Fear and anger he could ignore — disease and infections, not so much.

While he was gracious in cleansing others, he preferred to keep his own body pristine. Washing a shirt might get rid of pigeon poop, but the memory of the ickiness tended to stay fresh on his mind. No, his life ward would stay up no matter what.

After a few minutes of walking, he reached the guild. He didn’t mind the walk as he had been walking for hours outside the city — but avoiding people tended to be tiresome.

The Guild stood near the city’s main eastern entrance — which is not the one he entered due to the inconvenience his presence would have caused in a major thoroughfare. The time with the braying donkeys and rampaging horses had him permanently banned from using the main gate.

The building had no guards, but he detected a few minor wards in place as he entered. Very few would start trouble in a place filled with battle-hardened veterans and glory-seeking greenhorns. The wards felt like teleportation wards. He imagined burning kegs of oil suddenly appearing in the center of the guild — setting the whole place on fire with no trace of the culprit. Oh the sweet screams and scent of burning flesh….

He snapped out of his reverie. Diabolical musings regularly entered his mind care of its unwanted residents. He had yet to entertain them — but the thoughts were entertaining in their own macabre way. It gave him an insight into how demons think or perhaps how they wanted their hosts to.

The door was open, with an unspoken invitation for all to enter — no threshold whatsoever preventing spirits or other beings that go bump in the night from entering. And so he entered.

The guild was divided into two sections — one to receive quests, and one to report success or failure. Processing quest materials, especially the larger ones, were done away from the town. The guild has able personnel capable of dismantling every bit of skin, flesh, bone, and whatever useful part a creature might have.

Whispers of necromancer and scourge greeted him as he entered the building. It was months since a team of adventurers tried to vanquish him for glory and possible monetary reward — but they were put in their place just by leaking a bit of his aura.

The guild frowned upon the display, citing permanent psychic damage, crippling fear, and whatnot.

He understood where they were coming from. The guild was forced to retire a team of adventurers and got very little in return. Yes, he was the aggrieved party — but he was this evil necromancer that the city feared.

However, the backing of the City Lord gave Jeremy enough leeway to transact with the guild, as well as earn their protection.

It was more like protecting their members from insanity, loose bowels, and dying from the drink — so the guild made sure there were no fights where he was involved.

He approached the counter manned by a barrel-chested individual — probably a farmer adventurer. The guild took care of their own, and finding work for retired adventurers was one of their duties.

“Here for a quest, Scourge?” the man asks, not even hiding the scorn in his voice.

“Issuing one,” Jeremy answers. This was not the place to argue or put people in their place. If only they knew the glory that was serving him or the radiance of following his will.

He shook his head, banishing the alien thoughts.

“I would like to have a few adventurers try some potions I’ve concocted.”

“You want guinea pigs for your experiments then?” the man spat.

“No, not exactly. My butler and a few others have already tested the efficacy of my brews. I just want a few adventurers to give their opinions. I need 5 volunteers and I’m willing to pay 3 gold per person.”

“Heading to your territory would be a quest in itself,” the man said thoughtfully. “I’ll accept your listing, but I doubt you’ll find either brave or foolhardy adventurers any time soon.”

“It’s fine.”

He wasn’t in a hurry, and he wanted adventurers with a bit of mettle. He paid 3 gold for the listing. The guild took a 20 percent cut from the proffered rewards, paid in advance by the quest giver — regardless if the quest gets accepted.

The system made sure that all given quests were real ones, and that clients had the ability to pay. Most of the surcharges were used in the daily operations of the guild, while the rest went to some sort of retirement fund for adventurers, as well as compensations for injuries and deaths.

Jeremy admired the system but felt it was lacking. There would be no deaths on his watch — and if his plans reached fruition, deaths wouldn’t be even possible.

He left the guild and made his way to the southern entrance. He made sure not to linger where people converged. While he could handle a scream or two, attracting undue attention was not to his liking. Fearful crowds can turn to a pitchfork-wielding mob with the right urging — and he certainly had detractors eager to get rid of him.

Meeting up with the guards was routine — no more shenanigans this time. He merely turned in his papers and bid Levan good day.

It was time to meet the farmer and probably do some harvesting — preferably with a scythe.