They put us up in the local tavern. It turned out to be far brighter and friendlier than Granny Brin’s place. The adventurers took separate rooms. At first, I wanted to pick a basement room to stay out of sight—but realizing that would actually draw more attention, I took a room near the others instead. As a bonus, I’d get to talk with them more often.
They’d left the medallion with me, so I finally had a chance to study it. Yet after spending the entire night staring at it intently, I found nothing unusual about it. It didn’t glow, nor did it seem mystical—even when in use. I tried changing the tone, speed, and manner of my inner speech, but the voice it produced always sounded exactly the same. I couldn’t even shout through it.
In the morning, I went downstairs and joined the rest of the team as we waited for the captain. He was still asleep. Scot sat again with his feet propped on a neighboring stool; the twins and Drodul were getting food at the counter; and Beri was already shoveling down a huge plate of scrambled eggs. Surprisingly, she was doing it quite well.
“I couldn’t eat properly while we were on the road, so today I want a proper breakfast,” the girl explained to me—then immediately returned to her plate.
“Enjoy your meal. Take your time,” I said and sat down beside her. Her portion shrank at a remarkably steady pace, and watching Beri was oddly pleasant—though I myself felt absolutely no appetite whatsoever.
“The food here isn’t bad,” Drodul said, sitting down next to me and loudly setting three large dishes on the table. He had some unknown kind of porridge, an assortment of sausages and meat, plus a separate plate with fried vegetables and bread. He took a swig from his mug, wiped his mouth with his sleeve, and dug in.
The twins also joined the table—but they only had vegetables and scrambled eggs, just like Beri. They wished everyone a good appetite and began eating slowly. Occasionally one of them would say something, but only after fully chewing and swallowing their food. Their expressions remained calm and cheerful.
“Yeah. So what’s next? Do we have a plan for the day, or are we just going to waste away here?” Scot started.
“We’ll go over the exact plan only with the captain,” Larry said, popping a fried mushroom into her mouth and chewing it diligently.
“Are you looking for someone?” I decided to steer the conversation toward a topic that interested me.
“Yeah,” Scot began reluctantly. “There was a brand-new, tiny village nearby—but apparently, everyone vanished from it. So we’ve been sent to investigate.”
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“But isn’t that too simple? From yesterday’s fight, I got the impression you’re not exactly ordinary—even for adventurers,” I pointed out right away.
“Yes, we’re stronger and more experienced—that’s why we’re here,” Drodul said. “But we can’t reveal secrets.”
“What secrets?” Scot nearly shouted. “So what if we saw a couple of skeletons and some missing villagers? That’s basically it. Even if it were a necromancer—so what? We’ve handled worse.”
“Necromancer?” I immediately latched onto that word.
“Yeah… Those weirdos who drag around armies of bones. Stupid and weak,” Scot rolled his eyes.
“They’re worth fearing,” a sleepy voice joined the conversation. We all turned to see Sem descending the stairs. He looked awful—as if he hadn’t slept in weeks, maybe months.
“You’ll get in trouble later for blabbing about our private business—but since he’s traveling with us, he should know,” Sem said, knocking Scot’s feet off the stool and taking the seat himself. “Necromancers are a special kind of person capable of controlling the undead. Usually, they’re weak and rare—but sometimes the opposite happens. When a necromancer awakens a special gift, they grow more horrifying over time. Someone else explain it—I’ll grab some food and drink first.”
Drodul, who’d already finished his enormous portion and was now sipping the last drops from his mug, began speaking:
“These creepy guys are usually vengeful and cruel. They kill everyone and everything. And since their ability is controlling the dead, the more they kill, the more soldiers they gain—which means they can kill even more. It snowballs. Given enough time, one could raise a massive army—and believe me, nobody wants that.”
“Are they always that powerful?” I couldn’t believe my late, bald leader might have reached such heights.
“No, of course not. Normally, a person’s soul-force is limited—they can control five or ten corpses at most. But there are prodigies. Those are the ones to fear. One such individual, roughly seven hundred years ago, destroyed two entire countries. They eventually defeated him—but at a terrible cost. In the aftermath, three more nations collapsed due to internal conflicts and chaos. That lesson stuck. That’s why all necromancers are put down as early as possible.”
Lost in thought over Drodul’s words, I didn’t even notice Sem sit down at the table. He took only a modest amount of food, but it was clear he was genuinely hungry. Once everyone had finished breakfast, Sem spoke again:
“Twins—you’re on reconnaissance to the ruined village. Keep your ears sharp. If it’s dangerous, fall back. Drodul and Scot—you’re with me to see the old soldier. We’ll try to get some intel from him. Beri—you stay here with… Hmm. Sorry, I never caught your name?”
“I’m just Sk—” I froze for a second, forcing my mind blank—then continued, “S! Call me S. Yeah. Just a short name like that.”
“Alright, S. You’ll stay with Beri to prepare for the next leg of the journey. Any questions?” Sem scanned everyone’s faces. “No questions? Then we move out. It’s still far too early to think about sleep…”

