Chapter 16: 15. Desert Devil

Has he succumbed to his condition? In her distant memories, Genevieve remembered reading about the possibility of this happening to people like Drifter. The dying and resurrection ultimately become too much to bear, breaking the person mentally. 

Breaking is actually a fear she holds for her people as well. That is if she ever can find someone to complete the ritual. Drifter was the front runner and only choice unless he has become too unstable and broken. It wouldn't do her people any good to be put under those circumstances. Perhaps if the corrupted druid becomes fully awakened and changes some major lifestyle habits, she could turn her attention to him.

Of late, Drifter has been rampaging throughout the desert. He was searching for any and all that would oppose him, mainly focussing on scorpions and disposing of them. Watching Drifter was fascinating. What amused Genevieve the most was his lack of regard for self-preservation.

Beyond the occasional meal, Drifter would do nothing else to take care of himself, not even spare time for rest. This carelessness eventually led to him dying. It was foolish and reckless, but she admired his drive. When he appeared again, he would hunt some more. Fight, hunt, and train. Die from exhaustion or lack of water. Then repeat. 

Physical training mostly involved the sword. Genevieve wasn't comfortable with a sword. Melee combat wasn't her preference. Still, she had enough life experience that it was easy to spot a master when she saw one. 

The faintest amounts of mana could be sensed when Drifter would execute his sword strikes in and out of combat. There was never any wasted motion in his movement, and his footing was always perfect. His sword never appeared to be moving fast. 

Instead, his swings were always clear and easy to follow. It was in this slow deception that hid the true speed of his sword, his mastery. In actuality, what she was seeing was the afterimage of his attacks. How could one so young obtain such high levels of mastery? Watching him wield his sword now, Genevieve wasn't sure that the druid could win a fight against Drifter.

Not only was Drifter looking more and more devilish, but his minion was more formidable with a weapon as well. Spars with his summoner would last longer and longer. Many of the master swordsman's techniques were also becoming second nature in the minion's attack. Like his master, the minion seemed to favor the sword, even learning how to dual wield. 

Despite his questionable mental status, time in the desert was clearly paying off. Drifter's ability to wield death mana improved along with his fighting skills. A fact that was showcased when reanimating corpses looked as natural for him as summoning a sword. If Genevieve were to guess, she would guess that Drifter would soon have access to his third layer. Becoming a squire is not easy and comes with some serious power increase.

His summoning speeds have also increased. Weapons are summoned instantly, armor is created in a couple of seconds, and his minion now only takes a second longer than his armor. Most of the time, with barely a hand motion. 

Along with more incredible speed is precision. Weapons are less bulky and closely resemble the weapons one would buy from a skilled forger. His armor fits his body uniformly. He has honed the places where armor provides the most protection, reinforcing them with thicker plating and improving armor that typically reduces movement. Even the minion is looking less like a skeleton and more like the more improved reaper version.

During his hunts, Drifter developed a hand tool that increased the velocity at which he could throw his spears. Throwing spears that he has perfected in summoning. Most fights end now with beasts dying nowhere near their intended target, impaled with spears. Previously challenging flying beasts posed no more challenge.

Desert beasts died in the hundreds. Harpies, sand stingers, desert nagas, and even the occasional reptilian bat devils fell quickly to the duo. If Drifter had come across the deadlier desert drakes or hollow vultures, he would have easily killed them. Possibly even his minion could have taken them down alone.  

For an entire month, this lasted! It was evident that the cycle was getting to him more and more as the month dragged on. He barely made it to two days during the last couple of lives. However, at this point, the drifter shifted his focus from hunting to collecting. For a week straight, every moment Drifter was alive was spent collecting sand stinger corpses which he and his minion would drag back to his bound zone. 

Then it got weird. After Drifter's seventh death, it seemed like he lost it. Near his zone, he came across a scorpion. An effortless collection for his growing stockpile. However, instead of killing it, he let the scorpion kill him without fighting. 

When Drifter appeared again, he found the improved sand demon and let it kill him once more with no resistance. Then again, a third time. It wasn't until the fourth encounter that it all clicked. Everything clicked. Feeding the scorpion his life, collecting the scorpion's corpses, and even the endless training.

Genevieve found her restating her feelings earlier in the month. "Uh oh."     

***

In total, my preparation takes me at least three weeks. Without water and pushing my body to its limits, I last five days in my prime and only make it two days when I am far past my prime. Twenty-one days, ten more awful shatterings and however long that recovery takes, and not one death more caused by the bear. Seven deaths from exhaustion and the last three were a calculated gamble. 

Stretched across my face is a grin I can't hide. Riding atop Alpha One, also known as Sande 2.0, is much better than fighting against it. Don't even get me started on how much better the ride is than walking. It is so much better. So much. The ride alone was worth the deaths.

Throughout the weeks, I learned more about my death core. One discovery came after I'd absorbed a scorpion. By absorbing more scorpions, I improved my black chitin summons. On top of that, absorbing creatures led to more power gain. My second core was getting denser with more death mana. Unfortunately, even with all my desert fighting, I never came across the Minor Earth Manipulation skill. For the most part, hardly any of the desert creatures offered skills.  

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Not only was I hunting desert beasts, but I was also hunting a new skill. Because I have the power of death at my disposal, I should be able to inject the dead with more death and bring them back to life. 

My pessimistic side was working hard to convince me it wouldn't work. However, the part of me that turned a pile of bones into my only friend felt like this was a real possibility. Even if it has the slightest chance of working, it is worth pursuing. 

At first, I wasted a few scorpions and other desert beasts. I tried several methods of raising corpses, none of which were successful. I thought the trick was similar to Decay and Absorb. I felt I needed a death-summoned item, like a blade, to transfer the mana from me to the corpse, bringing pseudo-life to the dead. Many variations and failed attempts later, I realized that was not the proper method. 

When I finally did figure out the skill, knowledge appeared in my mind like it had always been there.

Reanimate: Reanimate the dead to serve under your command. More mana expended allows for more capable corpses. 

My breakthrough came while I rested my hand upon a deceased snake person thing. Out of curiosity, I decided to try transferring my mana into it through my hand. Who would have thought the key behind reanimation was laying a hand on a corpse? Certainly not me, though I probably should have thought of it sooner. 

I blame my lack of nutrition and sleep. And to think, I spent an entire week poking a lot of holes in corpses. It was starting to get weird. 

With a misplaced hand on the dead, I could finally transfer some mana into the lifeless, bringing empty life to the dead snake thing. Reanimated, the large snake thing was entirely under my control. It wasn't nearly as capable as Bones. The corpse had to take simple direct commands. Walk, turn, and attack the target. The real benefit was that the raised corpses didn't take much mana. 

Three weeks of hunting, training, cycling, and dying. I now have twenty-five large zombie scorpions and one giant armored four-tailed scorpion. My behemoth of a scorpion will be my tank in the upcoming fight. 

Right now, I am using the tank as a form of transportation. 

This last week, in particular, was extra grueling. Each scorpion I killed had to be dragged back to my shattering spot. Not only was the work hard, it was apparent my weeks of neglect were having a more significant impact on me. I was feeling weaker and weaker. 

Bones was a major asset with the gathering task picking up much of my slack and even occasionally attempting to pick me up as well. At the beginning of the week, we could haul twelve scorpions at a time. Towards the end, only Bones was bringing back the corpses.

All said and done, we ended with a stockpile of fifty giant scorpions. From experience, I learned that my reanimated corpses would also dissipate each time I died. My solution was to stockpile. We created a scorpion graveyard on my shattering spot. As a bonus, the cemetery added the benefit of increasing the surrounding death mana. Cycling in the scourpses, I felt like I was able to make big strides in regards to strengthening my second core.

By far, the most challenging decision was letting a scorpion kill me and then letting it kill me again two more times. Once I recovered from my shattering after that third death, it didn't take long to hunt down the upgraded beast. Since the beast was now actively hunting for me, it took no time. 

It was a big harvest for my deathly army. Because of my greatly weakened state, the monster scorpion was able to put up a good fight. However, I had greatly honed my fighting technique, and with the aid of Bones, we made short work of what once was considered a sand devil.

The gamble paid off. I now have much better means to travel and a stronger scorpion to aid in the upcoming fight. Along with Alpha, I reanimate twenty-five regular scorpses. That leaves me with enough mana to summon Bones and a few weapons.

Ten dead scorpions are brought along as reserves. They will serve as backup ammo. Any scorpion not used for my army is buried around my shattering point. My scorpses did all the burial work, allowing me to rest a few minutes before we left.

I am happy to discover that my army of scorpses still increases the surrounding death mana. I have a moving graveyard! Already, I can feel my mana inside my core recuperating. However, like Bones and my armor, each reanimated corpse requires a mana reserve. Even with the potent energy from the surrounding dead aiding in mana recovery, my core will never have more than five percent of mana to use with my current army. That is more than enough.

This is the weakest I have ever been. Yet I am eager to face off with the bear because while I might be at my most vulnerable, at the same time, I also feel this is the strongest I have been. I could wait and try to recover, giving myself an even greater advantage, but I don't want to. So like a fool, I keep grinning as we finally make our way out of the desert.

Death is flowing.

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