Raising A Zombie

All necromancy originates from the goddess Isis and her mad attempts to resurrect her husband and brother Osiris. In her early attempts, she was partially successful. She managed to call back his spirit and bind it to his scattered remains long enough to seed a new god. It's revealed through necromantic texts that she failed. Though she summoned a spirit, it wasn't Osiris.

Her failure sparked a new branch of magic. The old tomb lords of Egypt sought the priests learned in the then primitive practice. When even the high nobles had a life expectancy of 30 years, necromancy was a blessing. In the hope of escaping death, they gave the practice an institution to grow and evolve. The priesthood of Osiris were the pioneers of mortal necromancy. Death wasn't the only enemy of the Egyptians.

When levies were needed for a war, that institution grew further charged with raising armies of the dead for the ancient pharaohs. They were primitive, could barely swing a weapon, and slow to react to a cavalry charge. When they didn't break from the charge, the calvary was slaughtered with no living casualties for the Egyptians.

Despite their weaknesses, an army that won't rout, will follow commands, and will never tire, is valuable. To this day, some of those ancient zombies still roam the Western Desert. That value only increased as the priesthood improved their techniques, adding wights, vampires, and eventually liches as advanced units.

The war in heaven between Amun and Horus ended the priesthood. It was known that the priesthood had gained power and could command the bodies of former pharos. Amun had been angered beyond reason at Isis, and her son Horus battled the elder deity. While the two gods battled in the heavens, the pharos's soldiers fought the undead and stormed the sacred tombs where the priests toiled. When the battle ended, Amun exiled Horus and his mother from Egypt.

Necromancy truly began to spread after those early days. There were institutions for the practice again and nobles willing to use undead. Lex had become another part of the legacy of necromancers.

Being a necromancer's assistant was dirty work. While most corpses didn't need to be functional, it helped. That's why Lex was elbow deep in a corpse pulling out ruined innards. The punch the bum received from ducal heir Jonna turned the man's guts into mush. Lex was on replacement duty while Morgan figured out what type of zombie they planned to raise.

While Morgan deliberated, he tried not to vomit on his work. The corpse cart had been heavy and slow. Its payload was covered in flies and almost unusable. If they didn't do something soon, their new undead would be a little better than fodder. Not that he wouldn't mind a meat shield.

"I think we should raise an undead horse," Lex said. Riding something into battle would give him an advantage in the arena.

"Maybe later, when weapons are allowed. What do you think of a four-armed design?" Morgan asked. She'd been doing that more often lately, bouncing ideas off him.

"Since power isn't an issue, we should make an excellent common zombie. Too much sewing makes the undead frail." Lex said. He pulled from experience and the necromancy text. Rotten flesh poorly preserved didn't take well to sewing. Gasses from the body had already bloated the corpse.

She slammed her hand down hard on her planning table, which was just an oak desk covered in drawings. Pieces of parchment and notes fell on the gut-covered floor.

"I need to excel. You're eating me into poverty. You wouldn't think peaches grew on trees the way the merchants charge for them. To think my father had several orchards of them." Morgan said.

"That's why we need something simple and reliable. Let covens make the grand centipedes; we need quality products that can win reliably." Lex said.

She pursed her lips while he connected the gut and sewed it in one-handed. Honestly, it just needed to look like it fit. Lex was more than willing to toss some hog gut into the corpse and attached both ends of the tubes. After the initial problem with the corpse was fixed, it was time to enhance the body.

Necromancy was sophisticated. Undeath energy ignored a lot of things like rejection. While alive, a man couldn't replace his arm with his enemies; undead could. With that in mind, human skin is stretchy, especially when undead. Muscles from other animals could be heaped on top of each other. Zombies did use nerves, but undeath qi naturally connected any nerves separated. A zombie with a broken spine could move just fine once its undeath qi adapted. This was due to undeath qi and thousands of years of necromantic research.

Morgan's necromancy text was the fruit of multiple institutions devoted to necromantic research. Many kings throughout history have wanted to escape death, and necromancy promised just that. Only the forms taken aren't always desirable.

It was also one of the only dark magic not outlawed by Epsilon. No, it was encouraged. In his mortal years, Epsilon was known as the great necromancer. He perfectly resurrected Lazurus, bound evil spirits, and concocted many helpful potions. From kings to lords, every court had a necromancer on retainer.

While the nobility endorses necromancy, so too is the inquisition. Diabolism, black magic, monster craft, bio forging, shamanism, and witchcraft were forbidden. Those were only the branches of magic he was familiar with. Doubtless, there were more.

He cut open the arms and legs of the zombie and began packing them with muscles. It felt like packing a scarecrow more than undead. After bulging the body with muscles until it was as wide as tall, he sewed it up. Bronze bands are wrapped around the biceps and thighs as a final barrier once it pulls a stitch. When he finished, the undead was a block of muscle with a round head. For added defense, Lex packed the loose skin around the head with fat. It gave the body a heavy brow and piggish face.

Morgan wasn't as satisfied by his work. Since it was his ass on the line, he wanted a thick wall. From head to toe, if Lex could stuff muscle into the body, he did.

"It's ugly," Morgan said.

"This is our first zombie. We want something durable." Lex said.

"How are we going to get it to the arena?" Morgan asked. Lex blinked. He hadn't thought about getting it to the arena. It was a thick wall that could tank attacks when he needed them tanked. Speed wasn't the desired factor in a wall.

He took some of the muscle out of the back and hips leaving it slimmer. Slimness wasn't something good walls were known for but having a wall all was better than not. He stared at the slimmer corpse. He'd had a choice to add the excess muscles to the arms or legs and had chosen the legs. There was the chance the muscles would snap the zombie's bones the second it raised. Hopefully, that wouldn't happen.

Morgan pealed away the zombie's skin and carved the conversion application into its sternum. That served another purpose other than powering the zombie with Morgan's qi. It sent power to the zombie's skeletal structure first before powering the muscles, and it would hide the ritual from curious eyes. Secrecy was their greatest strength.

Once the skin was sewn back in place, Morgan began her spell. Her qi flooded the creature's chest, and soon, it started shaking. Lex took a step back and hid behind Morgan's planning desk. The necromancy text mentions zombies exploding all the time. After so much rot, a zombie couldn't take being raised. Some necromancers used that happy accident as a combat spell.

The table shook as undeath energy settled. He felt the room shake as the zombie raised itself off the slab. It turned its head from side to side, surveying the room. With a heave, it launched itself onto the floor. For a second, its legs shook, threatening to collapse under its bulk before it righted itself. Lex heard a few snaps and pops, but most of the zombie's frame held.

Under Morgan's command, it took a walk around the room before sliding back on the table. At first, its movements were sluggish, but Morgan soon corrected them. This zombie Lex had put together, and Morgan had raised looked powerful. If Lex couldn't feel the qi, he'd believe his lying eyes.

Morgan worked acupuncturing it to create meridian flows. Once again, she started with the bones. He'd packed it full of muscles, not bones. If they didn't set its frame first, it would crumble. He wondered if they could get a troll or ogre corpse for the next one. Bone refinement was also a necromantic skill.

With every meridian opened, the pain passed from Morgan to him over their link. She pushed all the qi she could into the undead and opened up four meridians before she gave up. All four increased the zombie's bone structure. Its muscles would be limited.

"I don't know if it will be enough," Morgan said. He could sense heat flowing from the corpse into her. With her every breath, her cultivation improved. That was the advantage of necromancy. It made cultivation more efficient. Soon, she'd be able to raise another one and open even more meridians. That would further increase her cultivation rate and improve her situation overall.

While cultivation wasn't everything and often ended more lives through battle than it extended, it was still pursued. Necromancy was a valuable tool for demonic cultivators. That was the official title for any cultivator who used corpses, the lives of others, or hostile realms to cultivate. Morgan was officially a demonic cultivator. He didn't know how to feel about that.

Old tales of Cathay depicted demonic cultivators as Magus. They were always the villains in those tales. When a rightful heir stands between the new ruler and the crown, they were named Magus impersonators and killed. What followed was the marching of armies, the whipping of needs to allow the troops to cross dangerous rivers, and the battles of gods. In the days of old Persia under Cyrus, the great Magus became advisors and priests. Even during the time of Constantine, I when he held the gods of his forefathers, a magus served in his court. It was only with Epsilon that all Magi were hunted, and an eventual inquisition was created.

To be a magus was dangerous. Once, it was tradition when a king died to sacrifice every magus of the previous king. The Hidden Dragon Institute held many. Why have so many magi gathered in one place, all of them witches? They were all forced into a single class's discipline. He didn't like any of it.