“Tie them, Rudolf,” Garlan said, dragging the two unconscious men by their legs. Surprisingly his pace was even, and I couldn’t even see a strained expression on his face. [Strengthen] did confer some sturdiness, but this portly man was on a whole different level.

“And how should I do it, Garlan? You think I can make a thread out of nowhere?”

“Sure you can. You never told me you can’t!” He snarled, dropping both men on my feet. “Just how strong are you, bastard?!”

He was bitter about the fact that I hid my true strength from him. You can hardly blame me, for I don’t go on processions around the capital recruiting worshippers for an undead cult. I doubt such cults exist, and even if they did, some shady businessmen might be behind them and not undead. So, I ask you not to look for undead in such places.

“Cognoscente,” I replied, though I was better than that.

“The fuck?! There are hardly five wizards in Arlikia kingdom” He pulled me by the collar, and my lady, who had just reached us, froze his hands.

“Let him go, mutt!” she kicked his groin, but [Strengthen] worked wonders at times.

“You knew about it, lady Letitia?!” he looked at her in surprise.

“You think my mongrel will hide anything from me?”

“You don’t even consider my feelings, Rudolf,” he snuggled closer to me.

“Now now, Garlan. You can mop later–“

“I will consider forgiving you for twenty percent.”

I sighed. This bastard will never change. “Fine! Twenty percent it is.”

“Why are you wearing my mongrel’s cloak, mutt?!” My lady finally noticed and tried to pull it away.

“Don’t, my lady! He’s almost naked underneath,” I said, pulling her hand away. Garlan had a grin on his face, though, as if self-exhibition excited him.

“Oh,” she stared at me for a while before letting go of the cloak.

“What next, Garlan? How do we report it?” I asked, looking at his elated face. I’m surprised I didn’t have any urge to punch this greedy bastard. Despite knowing that I was saving up some money for my lady’s clothing, he wasn't interested in helping me.

Was I really exploiting him, or was it the other way around? Searching for answers might lead me to question my very existence, so I decided to keep it at that.

“I have a better plan,” he said, rubbing his hands together. “But my thirty percent share should never dwindle.”

“Twenty percent,” my lady corrected him with a glare, and he smiled craftily.

“How about we loot these thieves?” Garlan leaned closer. “They make at least a few thousand shins every fortnight, so if we take half of it, our earnings can reach almost a thousand shins every month, even after sharing amongst ourselves. That hundred shins from the guild can hardly buy us a week’s worth of bread.”

Well, I can’t deny that it’s a good idea, so I looked at my lady for affirmation, but her eyes had a mischievous glint in them. Garlan had won, and his grin only made it more apparent.

“We aren’t doing anyone bad by stealing from the thieves, so nobody can charge us with robbery. It’s a fair condition no matter how you look at it.”

“How long have you been planning this, Garlan? When you said forty percent, did you mean forty percent of thousand shins?” These businessmen were crafty, as always. If I had agreed back then, we would have suffered terrible losses.

“Anyway,” he ignored my question. “First, let us ask them to take us to their village. Once we get a good deal, I will drop by to collect money and pay you regularly. That way, you can pay me an additional ten percent commission.”

The bald boss grumbled as my [Fatigue] wore off. It didn’t surprise me that the effect had worn away fast because stronger mages always had some resistance to curse spells. I cast [Heal] on my lady as she walked toward the man and cast [Ice Shards] over him, my [Gravity] holding him in place. It was a more potent variant of [Weightless] that only acted on a single body.

He tried negating my [Gravity] with his [Weightless] spell, but my lady’s sharp sickles stopped him as his shrieks echoed in the vicinity. Rocks didn’t help him mask his shouts either.

“Your turn, Garlan,” my lady said as the sickle on his sprawled palm disappeared without a trace.

You see, fear forces people to talk or just die. Given that the man on the ground didn’t want to die, it meant he had someone waiting for him back home. The difference between hardened mercenaries and soldiers is that the latter have families. Anyone could claim having people waiting helps them pour their puissance into defending the realm, something they call the power of love. It’s all utter nonsense. They are the first ones to divulge all your secrets if they get caught. After all, they have their family waiting for them.

“Choose, baldy,” Garlan sat before him and tried to pull the man’s face up, but my [Gravity] didn’t him. I laughed from the sidelines, earning a hateful glace from my bread lad.

“You can either share some of your earnings every fortnight or go down with everyone, including the ones you are hiding behind the fissure. All we want is fifty percent of your earning, and we’ll help you protect your village or whatever you have in there.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be hired mercenaries?” the man snarled, probably because we were stealing his lines. No one liked plagiarism, but you can’t expect an undead to come up with some creative lines every damn day for eternity.

“We are,” Garlan gave his crafty smile. “But that doesn’t mean the guild owes us. Money comes first, and I am running low on funds as is. Why miss an excellent opportunity to make more? Has excess money ever hurt anyone?”

That’s how you invite thieves to the mansion, but I let the baldy answer.

“Scums!”

“That we are,” Garlan laughed. “Now then, choose, boss. You pay us or go down with everyone.”

My lady cast [Ice Shards] close to his eyes, and fear replaced the arrogance almost immediately. “Damn it! We’ll pay you, we’ll pay you. Get that bitch to lie down.”

That did it. The ice sickles pierced both his eyes instantly as they disappeared to become impure mana amidst the wailing of the man and overflowing blood. She tramped on his bleeding hands and snickered, “You don’t call me bitch. For I am the only one who can call me that.”

“Argh!” he shouted in agony, which inevitably bought a smile to my face. As I said before, watching my lady being ruthless is addictive, whether you believe me or not. She was a product of my machinations, after all.

“Stop it, lady!” Garlan shouted, almost. “How will he take us to his comrades if you kill him here?”

“Mongrel,” my lady gave me a stare, and I sighed.

A [Heal] is all it took for his ruptured eyes to get replaced, but the blood that had stained the verdant glass needed [Waterfall]. I didn’t really like cleaning, which might be apparent from the fact that my lady had summoned her friends to clean the western courtyard. My lady’s room was a different issue because it was my responsibility, and an undead never shies away from any.

The baldy looked at me gratefully as I stopped pushing him down to the ground. Garlan lifted him up and slapped him across his face a couple of times.

“You conscious, boss?” he asked, but the slap was not warranted, for the man’s eyes were wide open.

He stood up with much hesitation and glanced at his men, who were out cold, probably deciding against deceiving us.

“They are still breathing,” I said and watched relief flash across his face. Too bad, that wasn’t my intention. “But they won’t for long if you dally.”

I bet he wanted to burn me alive with his glare, but another sickle pierced his legs, and he started walking with a limp. I took a final glance at the huddled-up bodies, longing filling my eyes, which didn’t go unnoticed.

“You regretting hurting them, mongrel?”

I chuckled. “I regret not seeing you kill them, my lady. Blood and bread–”

“You should add me to that list too,” she said. “I want to become your obsession.”

I rubbed her head, much to her displeasure. “Then show me something that will make my blood boil, my lady. How about you slaughter the royal family? Doesn’t that sound fun?”

“Wait for me grow up, bastard. I’ll seduce the hell out of you!”

“I’ll be waiting, my lady,” I laughed and watched her storm in the direction of the two men.

The glare of the sun had intensified by now, warding away the chill of the winter dawn. The cold breeze had grown warmer, with leaves ready to leave the branches naked. Rocks scuffled before us, the hill parting slightly so as to give enough space for even a carriage to pass through.

I suppose I should consider mastering each of the attributes. I can use such rocky hills to hide my bread and freeze them for the time when another bread drought would break down. Sleeping for a few centuries years didn’t sound so enticing, but strangely I knew the feeling.

When we reached beyond the hills, plains awaited us, with settlements spanning erratically all throughout the vicinity. Rocks encased the frontal portion, which served as a gate, probably sturdier than any walls of the capital. The plains ran far and while, amidst the towering rocks and trees and thatched houses, only to be interrupted by a boundary of large stones on the periphery. It was probably designed as such by the earth attribute mages, and it appeared formidable enough to withstand a siege.

“A settlement within,” I said as my lady grasped my hand. People stared at us warily as we strolled past the entrance through the smooth path paved by clearing the vegetation. “It looks pretty good for a base. Even the king might get interested.”

“We are outlaws here,” the man said with repressed anger. “Traitors of the kingdom, families of murderers, their children, and few innocents who were falsely charged. Out here, though, nobody steals or kills. We share what we get, and if we run out of food, we starve together. We don’t have standing amongst us, for all are branded, and all are equal.”

“You can’t earn our pity. That man loves money more than anything else,” I said, pulling my lady closer because the stares she was garnering had increased. “And I like–“

“He worships me, so don’t try anything funny,” my lady said, and Garlan stared at me with a horrified gaze.

‘She’s a hateful lady!’ Garlan mouthed me the words, and I laughed, earning a stomp over my shoes, and a head-butt to my chin.

“Chantelle,” A middle-aged woman stumbled through the small crowd and approached my lady. I stood before my lady and slapped the woman’s hand away before it could reach Letitia, and she fell to the ground.

“My lady hates to be touched, so keep those filthy hands away, woman.”

Though, I wouldn’t deny that she hadn’t hesitated to punch the man’s face.