Hard-Skin Ghoul (2)

After striking the enemy, the spikes swiftly turned insubstantial, becoming psychic energy once more and returning to the Graveyard.

The ghoul hit the ground with a thud. Black, pus-filled blood gushed from its wounds. Its limbs twitched twice, then went still.

Green let out a breath. He had been wound tight throughout the fight; strictly speaking, this was his first battle to the death. He discovered that he might have a real talent for combat. Faced with the ghoul's attack, he had stayed calm. Far from panicking, he had cast his spells faster than he did in practice.

At the same time, another prompt from the Graveyard sounded in Green's mind:

"Victory. Critically wounded Hard-Skin Ghoul detected. Capture it?"

"Huh?" Green hadn't expected the ghoul to survive such grievous wounds. Delighted, he hurriedly chose to capture it.

A ding sounded. A rotating magic circle appeared beneath the ghoul sprawled on the ground, and milky-white light rose to envelop it. In a flash, it vanished. The ghoul reappeared, fully healed, amid the ruins of a building in the Graveyard. Before its destruction, this had been a crypt that produced zombies, so the captured ghoul had been brought straight here. Green also noticed that the Graveyard had automatically deducted [20] psychic energy to heal the critically wounded ghoul.

Once Green confirmed that the ghoul was in the Graveyard, he withdrew his consciousness and waved at the pale-faced Coachman with an air of composure.

The Wilson family had assigned this Coachman to him. Knowing he would be serving a Necromancer, the man had prepared himself, but the low growls, terrifying monster, and bloody fight had all torn at his nerves. Fortunately, the fight had ended quickly. He still stood trembling beside the carriage rather than losing his wits; otherwise, Green would have had to drive himself home.

Inside the carriage, Green was in no hurry to return. He told the Coachman to take a drive around the city, then sent his mind into the Graveyard and went straight to the ruined crypt where the ghoul stood.

The lone ghoul stood bewildered amid the rubble. Green could sense that its thoughts were in disarray, and its appearance had changed as well.

The [20] psychic energy Green had spent had not all gone toward healing the ghoul. More than half had been used to evolve it to meet the Graveyard's standards.

The ghoul was larger now, standing a full two meters tall when upright. Its skin was darker, but its swollen muscles made it look stronger. Black bone spikes protruded from its shoulders, elbows, and knees. The three bone claws on the backs of its hands had also turned black, growing thicker, longer, and sharper. Every trace of human reason had vanished from its eyes, replaced by an eerie green glow so sinister and vicious it sent a chill down the spine.

After examining it carefully, Green was very pleased. The Graveyard's transformation had greatly increased the ghoul's strength. According to its figures, Skeleton Soldiers were level-one regular units with an overall combat power of roughly [4.5], while the Hard-Skin Ghoul was a level-two elite unit with an overall combat power of [9.5]!

The figures might differ by only a factor of two, but a real fight was no numbers game.

In a face-to-face battle, one Hard-Skin Ghoul could easily defeat a squad of four or five Skeleton Soldiers. That level of fighting ability would make it outstanding even among Advanced Apprentice Knights.

An hour later...

The carriage returned to Wilson Castle. When Green stepped down, he saw another carriage parked outside the castle entrance.

The carriage was exceedingly luxurious, though its family crest was unfamiliar. Even the horses that pulled it were magnificent: pure white, with long, slender legs and powerful muscles. A single horse was worth as much as the entire carriage Green had ridden in.

Green had never seen such a lavish carriage. Even Viscount Paul's could not compare.

Green gave it a few more glances as he headed inside, wondering who had come to visit Viscount Paul. Just then, he met Steward Laurence escorting someone out with great deference. To his surprise, it was the mysterious woman he had met earlier at One-Eyed Kerry Jin's shop: Elizabeth Franton.

At the same time, the two of them spotted Green.

A knowing look flickered through Elizabeth's eyes.

"Mr. Green Wilson, we were in too much of a hurry to get acquainted last time. I'm Elizabeth Franton, from Faerun City. It's a pleasure to see you again."

The captivating woman's voice was a delight to hear, so pleasant that one almost wanted to lose oneself in it.

Green pulled himself together and pushed away his wandering thoughts. He had no idea why she had come to Wilson Castle, but he had no reason to offend her by being rude. Adopting the flowery, tedious manner of the nobility, he replied, "Beautiful Miss Franton, the honor is mine."

Green sounded sincere, but his words were perfunctory. Between Lola's warning, Old One-Eye's warning, and his own instincts, he had no wish to become too entangled with this mysterious woman. She, however, seemed unwilling to let him go. After exchanging pleasantries, she went on, "I came specifically to visit Viscount Paul, but unfortunately, His Lordship happened to be away. I was rather disappointed. Now that I've met a young Necromancer, though, the trip hasn't been wasted."

Green frowned slightly. Elizabeth had deliberately brought up his identity as a Necromancer; she clearly meant something by it. His guard rose. "What can I do for you, Miss Franton?"

Elizabeth replied unhurriedly, "I wouldn't presume to offer advice. I'd simply like to discuss a few questions about magic with you, if you wouldn't mind the interruption."

"Questions about magic?" Green's interest stirred. Her background was mysterious and her strength formidable; he was in no position to refuse. Besides, he genuinely wanted to learn more about magic. He agreed and led her back inside to his private area on the castle's top floor. He had a servant bring some delicate pastries, and after a little small talk, they finally got to the point.

Elizabeth smiled. "Old One-Eye told me you've been collecting fragments of ancient magical items?"

Green did not deny it. "Just a personal interest. Complete ancient magical items are expensive, so I can only collect a few fragments for comfort. Why? Do you have something like that, Miss Franton?"

"Just call me Elizabeth." Reclining on the soft leather sofa, Elizabeth watched the servant leave. Once they were alone, she kicked off her high heels without a care for appearances, revealing two delicate pink feet. She drew them up onto the sofa like a lazy cat, then curled her lip. "I don't have any of that junk. I do have something else, though. I wonder if you'd be interested."

"What is it? Let's hear it. I might be interested." Green was curious, but he made his financial situation clear at once, adding with a self-deprecating smile, "I don't have much money on hand. If it's too expensive, I can't afford it."

"A Meditation Method!" Elizabeth smiled as though she held a treasure in her hand. From the way she watched Green, she seemed certain she had him.

Green's brows drew together. Of course he wanted a Meditation Method, but she clearly had not come to give him a gift. Since she knew how badly he needed one, she would probably demand a lion's share in return. He steadied himself and kept his face as blank as he could. "I do need a Meditation Method. Which one is it, and what do you want from me?"

Elizabeth smiled like a little fox. "The Gelfis Meditation Method, Third Edition—the latest version, revised thirty years ago by the High Archmage Gelfis himself! As for what I want... I have no shortage of Gold Pounds. What interests me is how someone of your strength got away. Even the corners of your clothes are clean! A Novice Necromancer Apprentice who managed to defeat a Hard-Skin Ghoul."

Green was not surprised. If Old One-Eye had seen through the ghoul's disguise, how could Elizabeth, who was even stronger, have missed the clues?

Green looked at her intently and waited for her to name her price. He could accept it, refuse it, or... He had no right to refuse at all.