Chapter 10: Contingency is a Business Process
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Mordain Noxleigh
[First of the Graveborn]
Age: 10 (154)
Level 4 Undead Undead [Undead Mage]
VIT: -2 (4)
STR: 9
AGI: 13
INT: 15
MAG: 17 → 22 (+5 Undeadness Buff)
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Mat felt a harrowing headache priming through his head, making his world dark, then light up in psychedelic colours; growing dim, and brightening up repeatedly.
He tried feeling his body, but only the pain assaulted him, rendering him unable to sense anything else. It was a new sort of pain, which he hadn't experienced before. Suddenly, something happened, and Mat felt an even more excruciating feeling of anguish assault his whole body, as if it had been ripped apart into itself.
Mat wished he could scream, he really did; but there didn't seem anything that he could do, he had no body, he had no senses, he only felt pain.
I have no mouth, and I must scream.
The pain didn't let him up for a good time, and he had to endure it all. The worst of all was the fact that Mat couldn't see anything, he only felt pain, and he couldn't sense where it came from. He had no body, so in theory he shouldn't feel anything, but he did; and that paradoxical nature of his suffering—albeit far from the conventional way paradoxes worked—made it even worse.
If a person knows where they hurt, they may engage in constructive brain processes to prevent or supplement that area with methods to help mitigate it!
Mat couldn't.
So he cursed the god forsaken gods for bringing him to this shitty world, and then giving him a sugar stick candy to lick on as he died again and again.
Dear Subaru, I've always loved you, but I truly feel a sliver of what you went through now. Respect, my brother.
Somehow though, the pain slowly subsided, giving Mat some amount of relief, although a light ache still remained in the periphery.
Slowly, the world in front of his eyes lightened up and he could see the crimson coloured night sky again, albeit, broken in pieces. His view had large cracks starting from the top right corner on his sight to the bottom left, with some chunks even missing, and all he could see there were dark grey blur of nothingness.
Mat tried feeling his body again, but.. it was weird.
He could feel some of it, the rest he couldn't. There was a sort of disassociation between his mind and his body, and his senses—that were fortunately active now—made him feel a weird sense of fragmentation? Like his body's missing at many places, and he could not feel any of those parts.
Mat decided to ignore what he couldn't feel. The simple idea of Wu Wei was to focus only on what was under one's control, and let the flow take you along.
Mat focused his magic, and connected with all the parts of his body he could feel. Remembering the feeling of mana flow when he was whole, when he wasn't fragmented, Mat tried recollecting all at one place. He felt his body's parts coming together, and he felt them connect, rejoin, and then, the parts he could not feel.. they somehow resurfaced. As if out of thin air.
His vision cleared, and Mat saw the full picture. He saw Guardian Lich staring up and down at him in what seemed to be dumbfounded surprise. Mat on the other hand was himself surprised that the Lich could feel anything beyond rage.
Why am I stuck in this shit..
Cursing his stars, Mat checked his body. He could see his fingers were missing parts, and on top of that, a part of his arm bone was completely gone, as if it had been cut in half along its length using a hammer and a chisel. Focusing on his arm, Mat tried directing his mana flow there, and suddenly a cyan blue light enveloped that area!
In a matter of moments, his arm healed like it had never been injured!
Mat took a figurative and literal deep breath, and collected his mana as he did so.. then, in a surge, he pushed it out all throughout his body.
His whole body lit up in a cyan flame, and all the parts he was missing, all that was fragmented, came right back! Mat healed himself completely.
Is this the advantage of being an undead undead? Undead squared?
Shaking his head, Mat finally looked back at the Lich who seemed to have finally regained its bearings too. It looked ready to fight him again. It looked like its wrist had completely recovered. It had two working hands ready to maul him again.
Mat wasn't too keen on letting him do that or feeling that excruciating pain again.
"You've done me enough harm, undead uncle. In no way I am going to endure any more of that."
Taking another deep breath, Mat enforced his body with mana again, and ran.
He ran to the door leading out back, and used his skinless, muscle-less fingers to climb up on it. So what if he had no muscles, he could climb using magic.
Unfortunately for him, he slipped the instant his fingers touched the magically preserved wooden gate.
He tried again… and slipped yet again.
Fuck you, old man. What is your vice with me.
Mat cursed Orren Kael for the nth time. He wasn't sure what to do anymore.
Defeating the Lich felt like such a helpless endeavour. He felt too hopeless. There didn't seem like anything he could do. Looking back at it, he even found the guardian laughing at his misery in an undead way.
That was too much!
He wouldn't take any more humiliation!
Mat walked back to the garden, and picked up both of his staffs. It didn't seem like the old man allowed the Lich to touch, or damage them.
Good.
Mat wasn't sure it was going to work, but he had done all he could to make the Lich lower its guard and underestimate him again. As long as he kept up the act of losing, he could outplay it in scheming.
Mat would like to believe he was acting the first two time he died as well, and he would like everyone else to believe the same. He didn't lose, he chose to lose. He was just a really good actor.
Mat Nelson wasn't no loser.
He also felt stronger for some reason. Magically at least. A look at his status showed that he had 5 more points in magic for being.. undead undead? Undeadness buff.. truly strange.
Mat took a long breath. He wasn't going to lose this. He had plans, he wanted to go out in the secular world, become rich, own an estate, employ a group of maids and become a large farm owner.
So I am an undead, so what? I can't be a farmer?
Mat swore to reach his dream one day, and avenge all the people who put him in trouble, like the shitty old man.
Maybe he had been monologuing for too long tho, because now even the Lich seemed bored of waiting and it was walking towards him in slow, but steady steps. It looked too bored, in fact, like it was going out for a short little chore. This infuriated Mat.
You dare look down on me, undead unc?!?
Mat fumed, but controlled his fury. He had to wait for his chance. The undead only had one weak spot. With all that heavy armour, the only place that wasn't guarded was its feet, arms, and head.
A plan was formulating in Mat's head. He took a few steps forward and dropped the staff the old man had given him on the ground, leaving it in the grass.
He circled the Lich like he was in a Dark Knight movie. Mat made sure he was further in the direction of the tree as they circled at each other. Just as it seemed like the Lich was about to run at him, Mat ran first—away from it, of course.
Mat ran his way up on the tree again, and looked down at the Lich.
He waited for it follow his path, and moved out on the branch like he was going to jump to his other staff again.
The Lich anticipated his movement, and tracked back towards his would be landing site, focusing on where his staff had been.
Mat took a little moment to gather his mana, and enforced his body as much as he could physically do without heating up. Then, he gathered more mana, and put it all into his staff. The Heart of the Night lit up bright cyan light as it's core was filled with an immense amount of magic.
Not taking anymore time, Mat ran the length of the branch and jumped, lifting his staff up like Thor's hammer, bringing it down on the world to witness the power of the gods.
Except, it was not a hammer, and it wasn't brought upon the ground.
His target was simple. The Guardian was too late to notice the trajectory Mat was falling in was different than what it had expected it to be. It was even more late to notice that Mat was falling straight on top of it, late enough that it couldn't move out.
As the tip of the staff the black gemstone the size of a baby's head glowed cyan, and as it impacted the Lich's head, an explosive wave of magical shock resounded in the area, blowing Mat back into the air.
He contained his fall, and guided Mana outside his body to control his trajectory, landing on his feet.
Not waiting a moment, Mat ran straight at the Lich who'd just fallen on its knees with its skull cracked and green mana flowing out of it in a desperate attempt to heal itself. Not giving it any chance, Mat reinforced the head of his staff again, and swung it.
"The sneer gone from Matty's lips, his teeth are clenched in hate,
He pounds with cruel violence, his bat upon the skull plate;
And now the Litch-er holds the head, and now he lets it go,
And now the head(air) is shattered by the force of Matty's blow."
"Casey didn't strike out this time now, did he?" Mat said to himself in the southern american accent.
…
…
Maybe that was too much after all? He definitely felt some first hand embarrassment at such clear display of hedonism as he killed a poor being.. although it was already dead. Sort of.
Mat looked down at the Lich as it sat on its knees, its body slowly dissolving into the air, turning motes of green sparks and disappearing. He wasn't sure if he felt too good about it. Of course he was happy, that he was over this stupid little challenge.. but he was also a little sad, because the Lich actually had a personality. Sort of. It felt a little human.
It certainly affected Mat when the disappearing green motes formed the shape of what looked like a man, and kneeled to him.
Mat's vision blurred for a moment as ghastly faces clouded the peripheries of his sight.
"Hornoses flamevauem"
"Hornoses flamevauem"
Whispers resounded in his ears as the former Captain of the Castle's garrison bowed to him in feudal piety. Somehow he got this foreign memory of seeing that man in his head, in his last life. In his life.
Out of nowhere, the ghastly figures disappeared, his visions cleared again, and the Lich's body and soul were gone without any trace.
Mat sighed in usherance, and shook his head, wiping his thoughts clear of the Lich. It was finally over.
The murmurings definitely interested him, the ghastly figures were intriguing.. but it was something to think of later. Right now, he needed to get out of here. For now, he would wait for the old man.
Remembering what the old man had said before the fight, Mat imagined his ancestral staff disappearing, into some sort of magical inventory, or into his soul. Well, Mat was not sure, so he just willed it to happen. It would go wherever it could.
The staff slowly started turning into bright blue sparkles, and disappearing into the air like it had never existed. Once it was gone, Mat tried feeling it, and surprisingly, he actually could. He felt like he could summon it in his hand any moment.
Feeling assured, Mat walked to where his other staff had been, and picked it up.
Walking to the steps that led to the door out of this place, Mat used the staff's support to slowly lower himself on his bony bum, and waited leisurely for the old man to appear.
Mat yawned as the wind in the area started hurling around, and the surrounding mana surged to form a vortex of green in the centre of the yard.
So flashy.. what a show-off!
Mat cursed in his head.
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Author's note:
"Casey at the Bat" is a classic American narrative poem by Ernest Lawrence Thayer, first published in 1888, about a baseball game in Mudville where the home team is losing in the final inning. The poem centers on the team's star player, Casey, who is their last hope for victory. Despite the crowd's excitement and anticipation, Casey strikes out, leading to the team's defeat and the crowd's disappointment.