Chereads / Blood Mage - The Undertaker / Chapter 43 - Chapter 11.4

Chapter 43 - Chapter 11.4

- So, fighter, how do you feel? - After the greeting, Oliver, who came to visit with Eduard and a young woman from the stalkers, asked me. Taking into account, that I have just finished working on the weapons for golems archers in the morning, and that I have not got a healer yet, the answer was short:

- "Heh," and that word is not "good."

- Hmm," - he hummed, not paying the slightest attention to my tone, - "normal, then.

- Oliver, what normal? - I was indignant. - I feel dizzy since morning and want to curl up under the blanket and not get up for a week.

- Lucas will come to you soon, so do not cry.

I sighed heavily and asked:

- What do you want from me? More new experiments invented?

- No, that's your business, not that it's any of my business," - the man shook his head. - That's not what I want to know. Do you remember the place where you found the natives?

- I may know it when I get there," - I answered feebly. - What's there?

- There should be a linguistic amulet... an intercom. Local stalkers in each group has such amulet. It's for when you run into someone like us, to make them talk, to find out where their valuables are. Most likely one of the dead people has it.

- Why "most likely"?

- There were nine of them. If there are two dead in the den of a land octopus, there must be two more. Their squad was suddenly attacked by the creatures, and not many people realized anything; maybe someone even escaped. But if so, we can't pass up a chance to get our hands on the translator. You know that this amulet will be easier to communicate with, and we can arrange an expedition to the borders of the kingdoms to see how they live and breathe.

- And when would you like to go?

- Tomorrow morning.

* * *

They set out in two KAMAZs, one with a body made of thick iron two and a half millimeters thick, the other is a usual long "farm-truck". Ten golems and ten of the best human melee fighters. Of the golems, three were crossbowmen. They were made heavy and clumsy weapons, if you ask me, but a bolt from it could pierce any casing from thirty meters. At the same distance golems easily hit running pseudo boars, a little worse hit a moving target over fifty, and at one hundred meters they could send a bolt only to a stationary target the height of a man. The three crossbowmen were made in the same samurai fashion, which the earthlings liked a lot, and so did I, for that matter. The Japanese culture, promoted everywhere else on Earth, must have been too deeply imprinted in my subconscious, since even here it is evident.

Our squad passed easily through the crowds of zombies, which had grown even larger since they were cleaned up here on my last visit. Considering, though, that there were about a million people living in the city before the transfer, I don't see anything strange. Ten shadows and about the same number of mutants, the ones who weave the webs, were killed.