Chapter 54: Fainting the Future

Chapter 54: Fainting the Future A slow, peaceful wakefulness dawned on Luma, the feeling of profound comfort so deep she wished to remain in its embrace. But the memory of the arch-lich’s overwhelming presence returned, jolting her from her rest. Her eyes snapped open, and she bolted upright, her hand instinctively reaching for the hilt of her sword. "You are finally awake," the manager said, his voice a quiet, dry whisper. He stood a few feet away, his composure a stark contrast to her frantic state. "My apologies for what happened. I believe you were overwhelmed by his presence. To prevent any further misunderstanding, I have secured your weapon." He gestured to a corner where her sword leaned against the wall, its familiar shape a beacon of relief. Luma, her face flushed with a mix of embarrassment and lingering fear, stood and bowed deeply. "I... I apologize for my reaction. It was unprofessional." "There is no need," he replied, his skeletal head tilting slightly. "Nothing bad has occurred." "Where is the owner?" she asked, the question catching in her throat. "He has returned to his office," the manager explained. "He wishes to avoid any more confusion and understands that his presence might have been... too much." "Ah, yes," Luma said, struggling to regain her professional facade. "It is my unique physique. Unlike other Lupens, I can sense the faintest trace of magical energy, and your superior’s... presence was simply overwhelming." Her body trembled slightly at the memory of the sheer power she had felt. "My confidence failed me. I was arrogant to believe I could face a being of such magnitude. I never expected that he... was an arch-lich." The manager’s eye sockets gleamed with an almost imperceptible hint of pride. His lord’s power was a fact of nature, not a display of force, and it was a source of great honor. He simply said, "As much as we desire your approval, we will accept any delays and await a re-evaluation from the Stonehorn Town Council." Luma offered a small, sincere smile. "You have already passed with flying colors. My concern now is not a matter of formal evaluation, but of understanding your owner’s intentions for personal purposes and for the safety of the people. For that, I needed to face him. But I failed to even confront my own fears." "Your actions are honorable," the manager insisted. "We will accommodate any further requests to earn the trust of your people. My lord views your approval as a critical first step. We desire a future of profitable and meaningful exchange." Luma looked at her arm, a slight tremor still visible. "I do not know if I can face him again." The manager’s sockets seemed to brighten with an idea. A slow smile spread across his bony face. "I have a proposition, Captain. It is unorthodox, but it may achieve the outcome we both desire." "How?" she asked, her curiosity piqued despite her apprehension. A moment later, Luma was blindfolded with a cloth pressed over her nose. "Are you certain this will work?" she asked, her voice muffled. "Yes," the manager assured her. "The cloth itself is imbued with a potent floral scent. It will disrupt your heightened sense of smell, filtering my boss’s undead aura. And the blindfold will prevent any overwhelming visions you might experience." Luma sighed, then a new surge of resolve hardened her expression. With a swift motion, she ripped the blindfold from her eyes. "No," she declared, looking him directly in the eye. "I am a captain of Stonehorn Crossing. I cannot perform my duty if I live in fear of what I must face." The manager nodded, a flicker of genuine respect in his gaze. "Then I hope this meeting achieves a positive outcome for all of us." "I am ready," she said, her voice firm. "Do you want your weapon back?" he asked. She shook her head. "No. I am choosing to trust you." The manager’s smile widened. "Then you can trust us now, tomorrow, and in the years to come." He nodded once more and opened the door. Luma took a deep breath, bracing herself. Karl stepped into the room. He moved with a subtle, casual grace, a deliberate effort to project ease rather than authority. He sat on the opposite couch, his posture relaxed, and Luma was amazed by him despite the fact that he exudes a potent aura of an undead and that the manager’s method had worked. A tentative smile touched her lips. "First and foremost," Karl sitting, began, his voice a low, resonant rumble, "I truly apologize for any discomfort on my end that may have caused you harm." Luma was stunned. She had expected a cold, authoritarian figure, not this polite, almost formal demeanor. "No, no," she quickly replied, a fresh wave of embarrassment washing over her. "It is my fault, not yours." "I will share that burden," Karl said, his voice surprisingly sincere. "As I, too, struggle to understand and control this... power of mine." How could an arch-lich struggle to understand his own power? Luma thought, her fear slowly giving way to sheer bewilderment. "Thank you," she said, her voice gaining confidence. "The reason for this meeting is not for the town council’s evaluation, but for my own personal investigation. I should thank you in advance for even entertaining me." Karl smiled. "We are a company that satisfies the needs of our customers, after all. As the owner and CEO, it is my responsibility to represent this company and gain the trust of the Spinebride region through you. The people’s trust is our greatest asset." Luma was struck by the elegant, superior formality of the undead being. She had expected a casual, rough-and-tumble vagabond, not a polished executive. "Thank you," she said. "Your company’s hospitality for me and my people is already enough to earn our trust. It will be a matter of time before many beastfolk visit this establishment. I only represent myself, but I will have report everything to my superior, Knight Commander Urma, as well as the town council and your company have passed the standard evaluation spectacularly." Karl’s thoughts, meanwhile, were far more pragmatic. Politics exist in every world. Having a powerful ally like Commander Urma will smooth over a lot of friction, especially when the established merchant companies start to feel threatened by my success. It’s only a matter of time before someone gets jealous. Through her, I can establish connections to the town council, which will allow me to acquire land and resources I need to find a sulfur mine and start the gunpowder revolution. Then... it’s the Wild fucking West. He chuckled softly. "Ah, yes. Commander Urma. My associate Orkesh told me. He is quite a customer. He bought all of my figurines on our first caravan run to Stonehorn Crossing. I was quite surprised by his enthusiastic purchase." "He is," Luma sighed with a smile. "In fact, all Ursaroks are obsessed with art. In fact he sent me because wants to inquire a custom order: a life-sized statue of himself and his wife for their anniversary." "What a romantic husband I must say." Karl said. "I am honored that he picked us but, in order to proceed with the order, our artists will need to visit him to capture and memorize every detail. It would be rude to inconvenience a valued customer." "I am sure he is too eager to visit here himself to meet with your master artisans," Luma replied. "In that case, we will be waiting for him," Karl said. Luma nodded, her expression turning serious. "I have a question, perhaps more. I hope you will not take it as offensive." "I do not mind." Karl replied, his voice calm. "What are your true intentions?" she asked, looking him directly in his empty eye sockets. "I do not understand why an undead legion would choose peace. Our history books say the undead were the most dangerous monsters that once enslaved every corpse and soul. Why are you different?" Karl sighed, a faint hiss of air. "You go right to the heart of it all, I see. I can’t satisfy you with an answer that is entirely truthful, as even I only recently awakened." It was a well-crafted lie, hiding the truth of his reincarnation. He continued, "I do not remember anything beyond that. As for my intentions... I like gold and luxury. I have all the time in the world. Why would I resort to violence when my kin will experience the slow, inevitable march of time alongside the living? Everyone dies of old age, war, or disease. We, as the undead, are free from that. We only need money to afford the luxury, comfort, and technological evolution that drives a world of convenience. We have the power to defy death. In exchange, we will be burdened with the memories we enjoy with the living, the harmony we create. It is as simple as that." From the corner, the manager smiled, his lord’s words resonating deeply. The skeleton staff, hearing his message through the lich-uplink, were inspired. He was right. Time was all they had, and they would spend every second creating memories, burdened with the joy of remembering them, forever.