"What's your name?"
"E…Edwin," the scrawny youth answered, his entire demeanor conveying his unsurety on how to act around his savior.
Seated on a wide log close to one of the crackling campfires, Greem picked at the boar roasting over it and helped himself to a generous portion.
He tore off a piece the size of a pizza slice with his bare hand and looked at Edwin, the latter still standing there nervously.
Waving the meat at a nearby log the dead mercenaries had fashioned into a makeshift seat, he brought it to his lips and started munching. "Sit down."
The tasty and well-cooked meat disappeared down his gullet in a flash and he reached for the boar to get himself another piece. Before that though, he turned and checked Edwin's hands, finding them dirty and unkempt like he expected.
Floating a waterskin with his Spirit from nearby, he tore off a piece of the meat and sent them both towards the lightly trembling boy.
His mouth going agape, Edwin marveled at the supernatural display and looked between the items in front of him and their source.
Hungry and unwilling to anger his benefactor by refusing his generosity, he grabbed the meat and bit into it, his other hand holding the waterskin as he mimicked Greem and feasted.
For a few minutes nothing the sound of light chewing and gulping reigned in the camp, Edwin gorging himself on the meat pieces Greem kept sending his way.
At some point he started crying again, but that soon stopped when he realised it made eating difficult.
And so with the occasional flow and stoppage of tears, sips and gulps of cool refreshing water, the grateful youth filled his weak stomach to the brim with the tasty boar meat.
He didn't know how, but when he felt like there was no more space in his stomach for more, Greem didn't send over more meat, just a vial filled with a blood red liquid.
"Drink it. Or else you'll be puking out everything you just ate."
His trust in Greem near-absolute, Edwin grabbed the vial, uncorked it and swallowed its contents, his eyes widening and watering and at its god-awful taste and smell.
"Don't worry. It's not as bad as it tastes. It'll help you digest the food quickly and help your body absorb the nutrients. By tomorrow morning, you'll be completely healthy. However it has a side effect of making you sleepy, so we have to make this quick.
Are you ready?"
Honestly surprised at everything happening so far; the kindness, the generosity, and now whatever this was, Edwin had no idea what Greem was talking about and didn't know how to react to the question.
But he did know the kind of promise he'd made, the treatment he'd gotten from Greem, and the trouble the latter might have incurred by attacking members of this continent's most powerful organisation.
Hence, he decided to keep trusting in him and nodded fervently.
"Good. Tell me what you want? Don't think, don't hesitate. Just say what comes to mind… or heart, whatever you prefer."
His eyes widening for a brief moment, Edwin shifted his attention to the bound and slumbering knights as hate and rage unlike any other overtook his features. "I want to kill the witcher knights. All of them!"
Nodding in an "as expected manner" Greem looked him in the eye and said, "That's already being taken care of. Their organisation is a hindrance to my boss' plans, so they must be removed. They will be removed.
So, again. What do you want?"
Reeling from the preposterous piece of news, Edwin forgot the commands of not to think and hesitate and spent a few minutes grappling with his emotions, his shoulders trembling as he wiped away any tears before they could flow.
His plan to gain strength, avenge his friends and make the knights pay for all the hardship he suffered was moot, leaving only the promise he made.
"I… I want to be useful to you. Whatever you need me for, I'll do it. Please, let me serve you."
'Okay, now that's just straight up weird,' Greem thought and forced down a grimace, though he didn't fail to catch the passing thought about how he would be less weird if it was a girl that uttered those words.
Shaking his head subtly, he focused back on his new subordinate and found the latter trying and failing to stifle a massive yawn.
Scrunching his nose at the potent mix of bad breath and cooked meat corrupting the air, he added a mental note to let the boy have a proper cleaning session tomorrow morning.
"I accept. You're now one of mine. We'll talk about the details tomorrow. For now…,"Greem grabbed the least stinking sleeping bag in the camp with his Spirit and tossed it to the smiling and dozing youth.
He let out an "oof" as it hit him in the chest and woke him up. "Thank you. Thank you. I promise that you won't regret this."
Yawning and shambling over to a flat piece of ground near the fire, the boy spread out the sleeping bag, crawled into it and dropped dead.
☀☀☀
The next morning….
Back inside the forward base, Greem ignored the sometimes pleading and sometimes hate filled looks of the bound and gagged witcher knights as a clay golem dragged them into Keoghan's slaughterhouse.
His attention was on the changes that had taken place in the short period he'd been gone.
The most obvious and eye-catching was the tower housing the space vortex and Lord Sarubo's projection; it now boasted a height of three floors above ground and protective magical enchantments.
Over a dozen of Keoghan's robotic beats hovered and flew around it, inscribing unique but familiar rune patterns on the walls.
'Runes of Hardening, Runes of Magic Resistance, a Divination-Obscuration formation…'
A portion of Greem's time in the Underground world region had been spent on expanding his meagre crafting knowledge, and runes had been part of the study.
Of course, at the time he had no idea he'd been getting an essence related to crafting, else he might have not bothered at all.
'Or maybe I would've. Even if it's just to compare with my Synergist creations, there's value in learning how Adepts craft things. Besides, I'm 70 percent sure I got the crafting essence due to my interest in artifact creation.'
Broken out his thoughts by the wind suddenly gaining a bloody stench, Greem turned to the source and found Keoghan strolling out his tower with a host of giant creatures trailing him.
The telltale signs of the voodoo beast creator's handiwork was obvious on them, the merges and work he'd done on them elevating this batch to Adept level.
The four armed apes, ogres, and toxic giants that were no match for him in a contest of strength before would now be able to hold their own.
Though if it actually came down to an actual fight, he was confident he'd end them just as fast as he did when they were Pseudo Adepts.
After all, an Adept's main strength was their intelligence, preparations, and equipment, and none of these mishmash frankensteins had any of that.
"Good job on capturing the knights alive. We'll be running tests on them to better understand their biology and power system. If you happen to defeat any higher ranked ones, you can send them my way as well."
Cocking an eyebrow all the way up, Greem fixed his team lead a "what the fuck did you just say" stare.
As though he'd said nothing outrageous, Keoghan simply chuckled and went back into his butcher's shop, wearing his palpable excitement at dissecting the live specimens on his sleeve.
Shaking his head at the puppetmaster's antics, Greem called back his golems and started a journey back into the forest, the fate of the knights he just handed over hovering over his mind like a fading phantom.
Suddenly he missed Mary. He wanted to see her and just be with her. Let her warmth chase away the chilly haze clouding his mind.
All of a sudden, his communication talisman lit up with a message.
If it didn't happen to him and someone else narrated it, he would never have believed. Mary had just sent him a message, not a moment after he inwardly expressed the desire to see her.
'This smells of fate…' he thought, unsure whether to smile or frown.
☀☀☀
Back in Blue Hillock City, in the Tulip Hotel to be precise, Swiftsword Jake, one of Bald Eagle's direct subordinates, strode through a large hall with urgency.
Throughout the large space, young men and women, all of them unusually pale and good looking, gathered around in various small groups.
They all engaged in conversation animatedly, their movements and demeanor sensually charged as they sipped from golden goblets and crystal wine glasses.
His own appearance having a similar pale hue, Swiftsword hurried through the hall to his destination, his ears picking up bizarre statements and phrases like "the embrace" and "blood treats."
Exiting the hall and climbing down a set of stairs hidden in a cupboard, he found two of his own gang members standing guard in front of an ordinary looking wooden door.
Silently nodding to acknowledge his presence, they unlocked it and gave him passage into the room behind it. A strong aroma of fresh blood greeted Swiftsword even before he fully stepped into it.
He immediately tilted his head at the source and found a young woman, her arms pinned to a horizontal beam below the ceiling as her crimson lifeblood flowed down the knives embedded in her wrists.
Swiftsword shifted his gaze downward, following the falling drops of blood and found the only piece of furniture in the room and his mistress.
Dressed in a light red dress and laying on the bed, Mary reclined on it and enjoyed the attendance of the two scantily clad noblewomen flanking her on both sides.
Each of them held a bowl of delicious grapes, and they occasionally picked a few, caught a drop of blood on them before feeding it to her.
Sometimes too they'd catch the blood with their tongue and close their eyes to savor the taste, letting out perverse and breathy moans.
Staring at this scene for no longer than a second, the embraced thug with news to report lowered his head and did what he came to do.
"Mistress, as you commanded, we've been watching and listening for any news regarding the witcher knights. Just now a group of them entered the city in cloaks and scattered all over.
They tried to be covert but we still got their numbers and even know where their leaders are."
Mary sat up in an instant and the red in her eyes intensified, almost glowing in the dark room. The enthralled noblewomen ceased their actions and grew anxious, their mistress' budding fury blaring at them like a megaphone.
"You already probed them? What part of 'don't draw any attention' don't you understand?"
Terror gripping his very soul, Swiftsword Jake wasted no time and explained, "We were careful Mistress. We sent some street urchins to harass the knights and they confirmed what we already knew. None of our men took part in this."
The blood servants relaxed when their mistress nodded and returned to her reclined position, her fury fading from their senses.
"You're a gang member working for the count, don't forget this and attract undue attention from the knights. Do not give them a reason to suspect you. Am I clear?"
"Yes mistress."
"Hmph. What else have you learned? Why are they here all of a sudden?"
"We couldn't determine that, but I think the count might know. The leader of the knights paid him a secret visit right before I came here."
"He went to see Vanlier? That's good. That's really good," Mary smiled and stuck out a tongue, licking her lips as she used her blood control to draw a few of the blood towards it.
****
Author's note:
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