Chương 6: Spooky, Scary Skeleton

We dropped off the new recruits in the hovel where I'd partially disposed of Jerkbart's body. Thelma, being a zombie, began to finish off disposing of the evidence. I grinned at Bork's queasy expression, not that I had any say in my facial expression. I melded my ruined gladius to my thigh bone for the journey. I'd be carrying the shovels again…

"Kid, can we leave these here? No point lugging them back and forth." I waved the spades at him.

"No. Dad will want them back. You'll need to clean them as well before… We'll need to clean them before I put them away."

"Fine." I sighed, and the glow from my eyes faded back to normal. If Bork had been a regular villain, I'd have accepted a little more bossiness from him. Seeing as he was a mild-mannered kid, he could show some damn respect.

"More spades are going on the shopping list, among other things."

"But I'm broke! I only get five silver a week from mum and dad, and most of that goes on stuff for school."

"Five silver is a month's salary to the poor, kid. You can cut back on sweets, we've got better things to spend the coin on. And you got the loot from the meatbag over there."

"It goes on books! And little things like summoning reagents." He glared at me.

"You have to buy your own books?"

"Well, some of them. The basic ones are given to us, but if you want to do well, get a chance at the Darklands, you need the extra help the more advanced textbooks give you."

"Let me guess… Gangle is looking to go into the Darklands, and Nomin might end up in her party?" He looked down and swung a foot back and forth, scuffing at the ground. For a moment, there was silence, bar the sounds of Thelma chewing.

"He will end up in her party!" It was practically a wail.

"She's number four in the year, he's number two."

"And you are?"

"Mmph."

"Come again?"

"Eight, alright?" His glare escalated into a scowl.

"I'm coming to school with you tomorrow. Just get me in front of the Headmaster, and I'll do the rest."

"How can—""Find a way, kid." I sent a mental command to the minions. The skellies lay down as though they were mouldering corpses, and once she was finished with her dinner, Thelma would find somewhere to play dead as well.

"This lot will be fine. Homeward bound." We moved quickly and quietly through the Shroud. A few times, I shoved Bork into an alley or a doorway to let a wandering spellform or monster pass us by, but we made it through without any more ambushes by the human denizens of the filthy place. The Umbra was quieting down. I hadn't realised how the time had passed while we were graverobbing. Taverns were looking to close, and drunks were ambling home.

Due to the levelling requirements and how hard it was to find XP without putting your life on the line, most of the population was now below my level. Whereas before I was fine against a single enemy, as long as I was sneaky, I could now comfortably take on three or four ordinary people, no trouble. And at least a couple of the higher-levelled and more unscrupulous people.

Aside from Bork being offered the services of half a dozen ladies of negotiable affection—I wasn't sure what was going on there, they showed no interest at all in me despite my disguise—there were no problems or delays. The flickering streetlamps greeted us as we returned to the well-to-do part of the city. The guards were as omnipresent as before. They could pose a problem for me in the short to medium term. As soon as I got Dust to Dust to level three, they would cease to be a concern.

Most of the lights in the Von Heffleslump household had been turned out, only the windows to either side of the main door, and a single room on the third floor were still lit.

"Hells' fury! Mum is going to be cross. Can you put these away for me? I need to get inside."

"You need to go straight for a wash when you get in. You're covered in mud and vomit. Maybe that's like catnip for hookers on this world?" I was still pondering the conundrum of Bork's ability to draw prostitutes to him like flies to a turd. I wasn't physically capable of using their services anymore, and I was fairly confident Bork would faint at the sight of a nipple, but it niggled at me.

"Hookers?" He gave me a confused look, big eyes over a sea of freckles. I patted his shoulder with an ivory hand.

"Don't worry about it. Go wash up before you explain what kept you out so late. And make it a good lie, kid. I'll see myself back to my shed." I did not, as a world-conquering genius with millennia of experience behind me, sound bitter about being put away like garden furniture. I closed the door behind me and propped the shovels up against it. The latch was loose, and it rattled in the breeze that had blown up during our trip across town.

Cloak and scarf went onto a rusty nail that stuck out of a plank at head height, then I shook my leg until Puggy stopped trying to chew me. At least, I hoped he'd been trying to chew me… If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it's taken without the author's consent. Report it. The pouch had been a lucky break. On its own, it was useless to me, but with Dust to Dust, it would be invaluable, able to hold any powders in a dimensional pocket. I'd sell most of the original contents when I got a chance.

The Flashpowder was handy to have; I'd save that. The buffing powders would be useful for the Scooby gang when we started fighting with them, but they were hardly game breaking. IMPS had smiled its crooked, evil smile on me when it dropped this crude-looking leather pouch into my bony lap. First of all, my gladius was knackered. If you spend any time around professional soldiers, you will quickly learn that weapon maintenance is not to be shirked. I poked a finger into the pouch and checked the contents.

The Vendor's bone dust was tagged as Uncommon, which came as a pleasant surprise. It would take a bit more time, but I didn't sleep, and the kid wouldn't be going to school for a fair few hours yet. The gladius crumbled, the dust flowing into the open mouth of the pouch. As soon as the last of it vanished, I withdrew a third of the Vendor dust and made a neat pile on the floor. I sat down cross-legged, my calcium ass immune to the discomfort of the cold stone, and stirred a finger through the pile.

Everything I touched flowed together, and gradually I formed the Uncommon Bone Dust into a ball of Uncommon Bone. I began sculpting it out, shaping the blade and pommel. I pulled off a pinky finger, tossed it to Puggy to get him to leave me alone, and continued working. It turned out slightly larger than my original weapon, still easy enough to conceal under my cloak, though. The pommel was heavier to account for the longer blade, and the guard flared out a bit more broadly than before.

A small hole in the side of the pommel was carefully shaped with a slight tilt towards the base of the weapon, and a matching prong grew out of the bottom of my hip bone, across from the one I used to mount the powder pouch. Bone Gladius (uncommon) Once the edges were suitably sharp, I set the thing down at my side opposite the Bonedog and contemplated my options. More armour was appealing. My chest might be much better protected after I recycled the cannibal, but my limbs were still skinny bones and thus fragile.

More of the Common Bone Dust floated out of the bag and began to form armour over my limbs. My legs thickened, the new structures mimicking the normal shape for a human, and I stretched them out to see clearly as I worked. My sabatons would pass for boots now so I tossed the boots I'd borrowed aside with a sigh of relief. Then I started on my arms. What amounted to bone gauntlets, vambraces and rerebracers solidified and connected to my body. I rose, stretching and testing how my movement was impacted.

Much heavier. I lunged and twisted, putting my new form through its paces. My footfalls didn't click or clack now; they had a satisfying thudding sound. But I was still as flexible as before. Local Class Bonecaster General Level 10 STR 15 AGI 10 MAG 26 ARM 23 XP 58/100 Bone Matter: 82/85 Five more points of armour weren't to be sniffed at. And considering I'd only been in Nadrak—or in this world in fact—for a little over six hours by my reckoning, I was off to a good start. What next?

I needed to take advantage of the synergies between my abilities. Bone Throwing let me launch high-velocity projectiles, but I didn't want to be firing my sword or my fingers at people. I needed ammunition. An hour later, I had six short, thin darts mounted atop each side of my hip bones. They were firmly melded to my body, but could be loosened with a thought. I spent fifteen minutes carefully avoiding using Puggy for target practice, standing at the far end of the room and firing them into the door.

I'd used perhaps a quarter of the Common Bone dust I had gathered, but still had two-thirds of the Uncommon. Shields were a pickle. People like big shields because, obviously, it's easier to hide more of yourself behind a bloody great big one than a teeny tiny one. But there were downsides to big, heavy shields. The weight was the obvious drawback, but more than that was the utility.

If you are fighting in formation, big shields are great because your mates on either side of you are protecting your flanks, and their shields help cover you, somewhat. If you're fighting solo or in a small team, the weight and lack of manoeuvrability of a heavy shield makes them… suboptimal. Offsetting some of those disadvantages with Bone Control was a decent workaround, and I did get all teary-eyesocketed when I thought back to my times with the Legion. There was, of course, a better option.

More of the Uncommon Dust settled into piles, slightly smaller than the one I'd used to make my new sword. By dividing what remained evenly, I ended up with four piles. I split two of them in half again. Two big, four small. Options were considered and discarded, and in the end, I went with simple flat discs. They would be easier to mount, and when I was making them dance with the power of my pseudo-magical mind, the aerodynamics would be simpler.

I could see the mana all around me, mixed and jumbled like all ambient mana was, but I had no magic of my own. Time passed by quickly as I shaped the discs, smoothed them, sharpened the edges, and finally laid the finished products next to my sword. There was something about the simple pleasure of making something that always hooked me. I took trash, raw substrates, or in this case done dust, and made something better out of it. Something useful and more importantly dangerous.

With a thought, the blade flew to my hip, hooking itself to the mount I'd made for it and clattering gently against my new thigh armour. Next, the two larger shields levitated to my hands. Large Bone Discus (Uncommon) With another thought, they passed over my head and settled on my back, one above the other, and slightly overlapped. They weren't quite as wide as my ribs, but I now had solid protection should anyone attempt any sneaky backstabbing.

The four smaller ones flew up and settled on the outside of my upper arms. I stretched and moved. The small ones didn't bother me, but the big ones on my back made bending a little more difficult. Not a major problem, though, as they weren't going to be stuck to me when I fought anyway. All six shields detached and began orbiting my body. The small ones were speedy, the big ones more solid. I mentally flicked two of the small shields into the door, the sharp edges sending splinters flying, then recalled them.

It lacked the power of Bone Throwing, but I had about five metres of range with Bone Control at the moment, which gave me plenty of chances to attack with them as well as defend. If there had been a mirror in the shed, I dare say I'd have preened in front of it for the rest of the night, but there wasn't, so I didn't. I sat down and played with Puggy, making one of my detachable fingers dance around his head until he got dizzy from chasing it around in circles.

I was ready for my first day of school in a couple of centuries. I hoped the teachers liked me.