“...small bow or curtsy. Remember, address is by rank and full name or House name. Only use…”
How many people have I killed? Do I count humans separately or just total? What about those my undead kill? Count them too? What about my wives’ kill counts?
Its fifth period, room 41, Etiquette I, and I’m having a bit of a moment. A come to jesus, you might say. Have not been on this world very long but, I’ve killed a lot of people. Either killed them myself or had them killed.
Okay. Granted. Killing a hot chick should really, really, not trigger a crisis of conscience. Killed that elf sentinel bitch without issue. Many of those House Gilend chicks were good looking.
So why is this different? Red even killed her. Not me.
Yeah, to protect my son I’ll make mountains of corpses. No problem. But… Could have healed her. Spared her. Added to the harem. Instead?
Quoted a line from Equalizer. Imitated a fucking movie scene and watched her bleed out. That is some psycho level shit right there.
May not be quite as sane as I think I am.
Or is this an isekai thing?
You catch mass murderitus as soon as you cross over?
“Now introducing a companion uses a variation on the…”
This guy is really into the subject. Lecturer Roheis Abassard’s face looks, Arabic maybe? And he knows his etiquette. How to interact with others without insulting them or disgracing yourself is kind of important for, well, everyone. So its a full class.
Windows are in shadow since the sun is on the west side of the building. Its not actually dark. Just, sort of, cool. Shady.
The old polished wood of the tables and chairs is visibly worn from the decades of students using them. But reflects the clear sky outside.
Slutty teach’s corpse should be getting hauled out of the building right about now. Wonder how many students will see it? What will they think? How long will it take for everyone to hear that I did it.
Or, at least, that I’m responsible.
Not just the school delinquent. Now the school murderer too.
Why is this mattering to me?
She wanted to break my girlfriend and control me. Turn Hitomi into a meat toilet and me into a murder puppy. Even endangered Red’s baby with that aoe spell.
Will have to monitor closely to make sure the squirt’s mind isn’t mush now.
Fortunately, in this world, women’s wombs provide some protection against magic just like they do against infections and such. So its probably okay.
Of course lamer saruman is upset. Death by student is probably not a significant risk at most schools. Adds a new challenge to the hiring process. Though I get the feeling he was expecting this. And if I was a betting man? Might even think this was planned.
“...bow to your partner. Now, my lady, curtsy to yours.”
Teacher Abassard has volunteered a couple of students to demonstrate. Guess this whole eight-hour is going to be about saying, “hi,” correctly.
Maybe I’m not really bothered by killing another ho. Maybe what really bothers me is that I just fucked myself again!
Metaphorically speaking at least, I think.
Needed that dead bitch to teach me the Dark School of Magic. Especially Necromancy.
Ushalen taught me some before those church fucks killed her. Picked up some from observing necromancers and necromancies. Even figured some stuff out on my own.
Thanks to Frankie and my ex-Light School undead.
However.
There ain’t no “Necromancy for Dummies” book. And the books that do exist are mostly notes and theory. Very light in the way of actual incantations. Especially compared to other schools.
Learned early on that mage types are “protective,” paranoid, of their spellcraft. Makes sense since that’s their livelihood. Be dumb to give the milk away for free. Especially with limited supplies.
And with how suspiciously the Dark School is viewed? The other schools’ casters look downright philanthropic in comparison.
Plus the girls who had their light magic converted to dark magic? Were just converted. The behind the scenes shit they learned about the Light School was not swapped out. So Dark School wise they’ve plateaued.
And the last thing I want to do is make it too obvious that I really don’t know, what I’m doing. That I’m faking it till I make it. Going by feel. Etc…
So grabbing random Necro and saying “teach me Obi-wan” may end up in a bad place. Fast.
Last fucking thing I need is another necromancer to know a way to steal my undead that everyone thinks I already know and have defended against.
Maybe I should bail on necromancy? Trust issues me really prefers minions who pretty much can’t betray me. Undead? Fit the bill quite nicely.
But the dungeon invasion revealed more than the gods and goddesses having “daddy issues.” Turns out I have a bit of a fuel efficiency problem.
Noticed it with the horde battle too. But thought it was a fluke. A glitch.
Necromancy doesn’t scale nearly as well as I thought it did. When you make an undead you have to fill up its gas tank with your mana. Like with weapons some have their own pools. But most need your mana to function.
Probably didn’t notice it before because of my ocean sized reservoir but… Undead scale badly.
Let me explain. No, there is too much. Let me sum up.
Say you’ve got ten zombies. They take a certain amount of magic gas and depending on what they do it lasts for a certain amount of time.
Now lets up that to a hundred zombies. Each has the same size tank. Each takes the same amount of mana as the ten zombies.
But? They run out of gas faster. Same activities for each. Same amount of magic gas in each. One hundred will run out significantly faster than ten. A thousand? Even faster-er.
Why?
I don’t know.
But I bet a properly trained necromancer does.
Didn’t notice sooner because Sim-Fer and Oda-Mar, my half-dead angels, and my shadow priests, were shouldering a lot of the load.
Spending days in that dungeon with thousands of undead finally made it obvious to, not as sharp as I thought I was, me.
“No no no. Your palm goes above the nipple. Rest down, yes. Cup up, no. Just like with the crotch.”
But that can’t be right. I must be missing something. The Lich Kings had thousands and thousands of undead. Hordes of them. And nothing says anything about ocean sized mana reservoirs.
So there must be a way around the fuel efficiency issue.
And if there isn’t?
Going to have to bail on necromancy. I need an army. A big one. And one which only gets a foot to the gallon ain’t gonna cut it.
But what do I switch too? The only other choices for servants are elementals or golems.
Animal/monster summoning, like teleportation and storage magic, doesn’t seem to exist. Angel and devil summoning exists but they are powerful, intelligent, and arrogant, beings. Once summoned you have to make contracts with them and they can be ridiculously expensive.
Like selling your soul expensive.
Plus since I might be going to war with the gods? Relying on their soldiers would possibly be a really dumb move.
Now animal and monster “familiars” is a thing. They are just always next to you or waiting, mostly, where you tell them too. Don’t want to have thousands of wolves hunting, pissing, and shitting all over the place, following me around.
Elementals are strong. But they are expensive to summon and control. Plus they all have wills of their own. So its not that hard for them to go “off the rails.”
Golemancy is an Earth School field that’s pretty niche. Pro is that they are not actively persecuted and monitored like Necromancy. Con is that these automatons are pretty basic and no one uses them in the numbers I’ll need.
So the fuel efficiency thing may be an issue with them too.
Though the whole mecha battletech angle sounds pretty fucking cool. And there is a Golemancer on campus. Apparently he’s mostly a researcher, ignored, and has an office in the basement somewhere.
Wonder if he’s lost his red stapler.
Plus I did once find mention of putting souls in golems. A sort of Necrogolemancy thing. Didn’t state though whether that gives you the best of both worlds or the worst of both worlds.
Might be worth exploring.
*slap*
Eh?
“Lord Havesham. For the last time. Keep your hands placed appropriately!”
You are reading story A Fathers Wrath at novel35.com
Drama. The teach brought up a couple other volunteered to show proper hand positioning while dancing. Apparently, “down her skirt,” is not an approved location for your hands.
At least, while dancing, in public, mostly.
“My sincerest apologies, Lady Lehne.” Dude is rubbing his freshly smacked face and not looking sincere or apologetic, at all. “Please grant me the boon of showing the length of my sincerity. Privately.”
Real subtle, dude. Real subtle.
Feel the build up of mana next to me.
“Blue? What are you doing?”
Yep, besides Frankie, Red, and Mila, Blue is here too. Thought she was just doing magic classes but apparently there was a schedule conflict so she ended up taking Etiquette I again.
Says she can use the refresher but I bet she really just wants to spend more time with Red. They’ve certainly been giving each other the goo goo eyes.
“Darling, that bastard is doing that on purpose.” No, you don’t say. “He should be punished and I have just the spell for it.” Didn’t your girlfriend just kill a teacher? Is this a keeping up with the joneses thing? One with the highest body count wins?
“No.”
“But darlin-”
“No.” Lean over and slide my hand down the back of her skirt. Fingers digging deep down that fine ass crack. “Besides, it was probably a misunderstanding.” Her moan shows I hit paydirt. “You like it when I put my hands down your skirt.”
Blue’s melting expression suddenly blushes deeply and goes full pout.
*pinch*
“Ouch.” My fingers beat a hasty retreat from her puckered treasure trove.
“Y-you naughty husband. B-bad ma-man.” Blue struggles to get her breathing under control. “Stop d-doing that in-in public. P-please darling. You have already made me a bad girl.” Her eyes start tearing up. “D-do not make-ke me sh-shameless too.”
Crap. Went too far.
Blue’s switch is so easy to flip that its hard to resist bullying her. About to pull her in for snuggle time when some armored arms beat me to it.
“Its okay, Aly. We’ll punish him, together, later”
Red, my first wife and Blue’s girlfriend, has wrapped her arms around my third wife and is lightly kissing the almost tears away.
Blue switches to shy mode, nods, but then pouts again and whines.
“B-but Edy. He likes it w-when we pu-punish him.”
Red and Blue both eye me as they share a hungry kiss. When Red releases a blushing again Blue she whispers loud enough for me to hear.
“Yes, and we do too.”
Damn, with the prego hormones kicking in, Red has become a lot more aggressive. Bolder. Her voice, huskier. Month ago she would have rather died than made out with her girlfriend in public.
My knight-wife stands but keeps her arms around my mage-wife’s shoulders while Blue leans back against her belly. Gotta say they make an incredibly cute couple. You can feel the chemistry between them.
My basking in the glow of my wives’ romance is interrupted, by a nibble on my ear. Turn to see my dark elf oppai leaning forward and whispering.
“Master, their love is only possible with you.” Stop stroking my ego. “They would be weeks apart in loveless marriages if you let their Houses have their way.” Stroking other parts is still okay though. “Or Lady Alote would still be wasting away from that disease.”
Lean back and give her bodacious boobs a bite.
“I know Frankie, I know. And I will protect their happiness.”
Blue has moved her head so an ear rests against Red’s belly. Like she’s listening to the baby inside. Red is stroking her hair and then looks at me with the dopiest lovey dovey expression imaginable.
She might have overheard me.
Blow Red a kiss then lean my head back to rest in my priest-wife’s pillowy breasts and continue watching the show below.
Sigh.
Its good to be the king.
Mila’s about to pounce on me but is barely holding back. Blue’s crew are at the stairs and pointedly ignoring our shenanigans.
Down in front, teach has stepped in between molester and molestie. Handsy tried to reach under her shirt for a boob grab this time and about got slapped again.
Molestie’s words are fast and furious. Gotta admit. Like her spunky attitude. Now what about her specs…
Body? Spoon. Hips a little wider than her shoulders. Skin? White. Swedish maybe. Tits? Archetype shape-wise, I think. C-cup probably. Look bigger than Blue’s but Smaller than Red’s. Butt? Pretty snug heart shape. Enough there to grip. Eyes? Impressively green. Hair? A light blue, hinting at some elvish blood. Relatively short too. Around shoulder length with some curl. Might be better to call it wavy.
Uniform? All cotton. Not a bit of silk catching my eye. And with [Super Senses]? Can tell even the bra and panties are cotton. Hinting at a poorer family on the student body scale.
Molestie leaves and begins stepping up the stairs next to me while molester way to obviously stares at her ass and smirks. He’s already bagged that ass or believes he will soon.
Molestie’s uniform may be all cotton but its clean and tight. The ribbon matches her eyes and is tied up in a neat bow. Everything is tucked and buttoned. Like a picture out of a student uniform manual.
Carries herself with too much dignity to be a commoner. Confidence bordering on arrogance but [Super Senses] isn’t fooled. She’s trembling inside. Heartbeat is all over the place and has broken out in a cold sweat. Anger? Fear? Despair?
Maybe all three.
No sign of a servant either. That red, blue, and white tartan pattern on her skirt is for one of the northern kingdoms. I think.
So bottom of the barrel noble that her parents put a lot of effort into getting her here and she passed the entrance exam. Good for her.
“Halfblood.”
A girl at one of the table’s she passes makes a comment with a sneer too quiet for the teacher to hear. Another northerner? Molestie falters for the smallest of moments before continuing her climb.
Poor kid. Gets all the way here and still has to deal with bullies from the homeland.
Look down to see molester, “Lord Havesham,” has gone back to his seat. He’s clearly Tourinese but he’s sharing looks with another northerner a couple tables away. Whose uniform is all silk but worn sloppily.
Was molestie setup? And why does northerner pretty boy look familiar?
So where is she sitting? Don’t see any open seats. Except for that open seat at the end of my… table.
Shit.
“Lady Lehne” Blue is squeezing her hand as soon as molestie sits next to her. “Ignore those boorish fools. We’ll find you a better man than them.”
Did I mention Blue has declared herself a matchmaker? She’s as popular on her second time through Stormgarde as her first. And as a Duke’s daughter and alumni? Lots of connections.
“Please Lady Barton, I asked you to call me Helena.” Helena? “Your kindness has already saved me.” Why does that name sound familiar?
Blue, Red, and Molestie shoot the shit while teach calls down his next volunteered.
Lehne? Helena? Northern Kingdom?
“Did you see Prince Conrad at lunch?”
*screeeeech*
Blue’s question locks my mental breaks. Leaving brain cells on the pavement.
Conrad? That northerner dandy from whateverland? Then wouldn’t that mean pretty boy viking down there, who is giving me the evil eye now, is one of Conrad’s crew?
So does that make Helena, the heroine?
“Hello L-lord Barton. Thank you again for your hospitality. You must be an amazing man to make so many women so happy.”
That last sentence is followed by a too cute blush and hide behind a now teasing her Blue and Red.
So, if she’s, the heroine. In an otome game. Does that make me…
A capture target?
Catch Helena stealing a glance at me again.
What. The. Fuck?