Terem awoke the next morning still lashed to the same tree limb as the night before.
The morning sun broke across the treetops; the beams flit through the field of green like playful fairies. Terem soon found himself gently smiling at the tranquil scene, thinking that he would allow himself a noonday nap if he failed to find a human settlement by then.
However, he inevitably found his thoughts drawn towards his most recent dream. It was the first dream accompanied by images, even though they only appeared after Davarose activated the immortality spell.
It also happened to be the first dream he's had for a week. Although he did find himself mourning his peaceful nights that were now gone, Terem was somewhat glad that Davarose had erased the mental barrier between them. Of course, he was fueled by his own sadistic desires rather than any sort of care, but that would remain unsaid.
Right on cue though came a nostalgic voice.
"So, you finally found a town? The gods know it took you long enough. Learn how to properly navigate, brat. That whole ride nearly bored me to death. Aren't you hungry yet? Hurry up and find the damn town so I can see something other than trees, moss, and fucking berries."
Apparently, Davarose had a lot to say after spending an entire week in isolation. It made Terem wonder just how he planned on staying sane with an immortal body until he remembered that Davarose was, in fact, entirely insane.
'So, Davarose, how long until we arrive? You should know your way around these parts, I mean, it's within your territory, right?'
With a smug smirk that Davarose emphasized through the mental link, he haughtily exclaimed, "Of course it falls within my domain. There is no way a petty magicless bitch could escape my domain on foot. This land is kingdomless, do you want to know why? It's because of me! That incompetent King Berrester or whatever his name was couldn't kill me with an army of men and his incompetent son couldn't even locate my lair!" Before Davarose completely lost himself in his self-centered pride, Terem interjected.
'So, how far is it until we arrive at the nearest town? Are people even living in your oh-so-great domain? The streets have been awfully quiet for a road of this size.'
"But of course there are people in my domain. What kind of ruler doesn't have test subjects to trample. The nearest town should have a population of around 500 of you measly insects. Oh, and I believe that town is where I happened to find your horrid mother? I swear, I would have never taken her with me if it wasn't for her strong magic power. She could have been a great servant or, at the very least, she should have made for an excellent magic power conduit."
Terem didn't react once to the lich's provocations, mainly because he had no attachment to his mother whatsoever. At the time his emotional outbreak came from the fear of imminent death rather than fearing the loss of another family member. Even if he considered family though, his feelings would remain static and the outcome wouldn't change. She would be another corpse, dead to the world.
So instead of griping about barbless insults, Terem walked on, attempting to leverage more information from the boastful lich.
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"Let me get this right, you're saying that you are intentionally withholding taxes from us, soldiers, even though, in our infinite grace, we have allowed you to settle our land and plow our fields? Who do you think risks their lives protecting incompetent whelps like you from the beasts or are you trying to mock us, huh?" A man dressed in dirty plate armor and greasy hair attempted to appear regal while standing in front of the single-room shack. However, the leather face and jagged scar made him appear anything but royal. When paired with his hardened hands and toned muscles though, his sarcastic questions adopted an entirely new tone.
"Sir, you don't understand! I can't give yah all the food 'r else my family'll starve. The crops ain't barely grown at all this year-'round and the ground's still too hard when there ain't no grass to break it up. Have some mercy, sir! Please, I beg of yah." In front of the knight, a grey-haired man dressed in nothing but rags and rocks kneeled with his face buried deep in the mud. Occasional shudders spontaneously jolted the man's body, accompanied by a pitiful sob.
The officer hefted his foot and drove it down hard across the kneeling man's temple, sending him splaying across the patchy earth before issuing further threats.
"The next time I come, you better have all the crops owed to us, or else..." He cut his sentence off, leaving the threat unspoken, before trotting off back down the road towards the wooden shack used as a gateless gatehouse. After all, the villagers had long since torn up the posts for lumber to survive the harsh winter months.
The officer continued walking along the muddied path, shooting death threats to any person, young or old, that dared to even step onto the main road while he was walking it. Each person bowed their head to the dirt, resembling pigs wallowing in the mud, much to the constable's amusement.
One old lady with brown muddy hair flecked with grey strands due to years of accumulated mud stumbled before she could completely evacuate the road. The constable approached, malice evident within his glinting eyes.
Fortunately, the woman was neither young nor did she have any clothes other than a skirt that barely covered her waist, or else she would have received vicious treatment from the constable. Instead, she was hastily forgotten after receiving a dislocated jaw and more than a few rough curses.
The constable continued his cruise down the street, now with a slight hop in each leisured step, betraying his carnal joy.
It took him another five minutes to arrive in front of the guardpost located along the edge of town at this pace.
"Anything worthwhile today, Jeremy?" The constable entered the shack, finding another guard dressed in patched leather armor that had clearly seen many years of hard use during its prime.
"Nothin' today, Prentan. The gate is kinda lonely without monsters attacking. The guardian must have been thorough in cleaning up those pesky buggers. Maybe he used 'em for some sort of experiment, who knows?" The young man named Jeremy stood up from a worn-down chair and issued a lazy, almost friendly salute to his superior. "What about you? Anything happen 'round town?"
The constable named Prentan grinned once again.
"Oh, nothing much. Just collecting taxes from debtors and assisting the elderly. Damned slut couldn't even be bothered to pay me with her body or some token to show her gratitude." At this, both men broke into uproarious laughter.
Just then, something caught Prentan's eye. A stark naked figure with uneven dirty white hair leisurely strolled along the road from outside of the village perimeter. Prentan nudged his companion and pointed in the unknown man's direction.
'A white hair.' The two men exchanged a glance, clearly understanding what was on each other's mind before sauntering out to either side of the road, hands gently caressing the handle of their sheathed swords.
As the figure approached closer, the two guards could finally make out his well-defined face, electric blue eyes, and young features. They also couldn't conceal their astonishment while scanning over the young man's chiseled muscles, which were certainly above average for his age.
'Did he get some sort of body enhancement or something? No no no. If he is a real white hair, then it all works out. If he really is one of those white hairs... I can use him.' At this point, the rough outline of a plan began to form inside Prentan's deformed mind.
He was about to strike it rich: money, fame, power, glory. The white hair just might have the power he needed.
If the legends were true, the white hair might just have enough power to overthrow Him.