?Yaaaaawn?”

  Valera opened Her eyes, and stretched her arms and back.

  ‘Why am I sleeping without a shirt?’

  She looked around, and saw Abram sleeping on the bed next to her.

  Valeria looked down, and saw herself dressed far more scantily clothed than she remembered.

  Events of the previous day were coming back…

  She fought abominations, captured a necromancer, robbed him of his treasure and supplies, and got slightly drunk.

  Then, she asked Abram to rub an ointment all over her bare back.

  Valeria didn’t remember anything after that.

  ‘Please tell me I didn’t just sleep with a boy fifty years younger than me. And a married one to boot.’

  That would be a bit of an issue. He could be her grandson, or even a great grandson if she were to stretch it. And he had a wife already, which was another can of issues.

  ‘Sure, if that’s the case, it’s hardly my fault, considering he was sober, and I wasn’t. Then again, who asked me to drink?’

  Taking her physical strength under consideration, as well as the fact that she was the one who initiated contact, it very well could be her fault, but she chose not to think about a scenario in which she played the role of an old pervert messing up an innocent young boy.

  Yeah. Objectively, drinking was not a smart move. Even if she didn’t believe that the boy would find her attractive enough to take advantage of her, the inevitable hangover should normally be enough to deter her from drinking an entire bottles’ worth of alcohol. And a big bottle it was.

  ‘All things considered, my hangover is quite mild.’

  Her head was only throbbing a little, allowing her to somewhat think. Much more discomfort came from the overwhelming need to go to the bathroom, which she promptly did.

  After she was finished, Valeria dressed herself, and looked at the sleeping man.

  ‘Let’s not wake him up. Young people need sleep to grow.’

  Just out of curiosity, Valeria looked under his blanket.

  ‘Alright, he’s got clothes on him.’

  It seemed that her fears were unfounded.

  ‘Right. I probably just took off my clothes when I came to the conclusion that it was too hot. I should take my mind out of the gutter, and check up on that necromancer.’

  ‘In any case, it seems keeping up any sort of wise woman act will no longer be possible’

  She closed the doors behind herself, and walked to the room she left him at. She opened the door, and looked inside. Franz, the necromancer, was tied up in the closet, but it was pretty clear that he was no longer there.

  The previous day, Valeria inserted a piece of paper in between the closet doors, in a way that would make it fall to the ground if the closet was opened. It was still hanging there, but at a wrong height. The window looked undisturbed, and so did the door to the room.

  Valeria pushed both of the door leaves with considerable strength, and heard a muffled yelp from behind the right one.

  She kicked it for the good measure, and reached to grab the criminal.

  The cuffs she put on him were still there, but the rope was no longer in sight. The necromancer held his handcuffed hands in front of his bloodied face.

  He groaned.

  “You should have just ran away. If you were hoping to choke me with your cuffs and take back your cores, then you are an idiot. Luckily for you, I feel pretty good despite my hangover.”

  She punched him in the liver, and dropped him to the ground. Valeria walked over to the closet, and inspected it. At the bottom, there laid sorry remains of hemp rope.

  ‘Well, that certainly wasn’t cut with a knife.’

  The rope necrotic mage was tied up with, looked like it was rotten through.

  ‘I suppose that’s another use of magic.’

  Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  She sniffed the rope.

  ‘Did he age that cheese himself?’

  That made her remember.

  ‘Right, I should probably feed my prisoner. Let’s stuff him full of cheese, there is too much for us to carry anyway.’

  She dragged the unconscious necromancer back to the bedroom, and saw Abram awake, and eating.

  “Good morning.” She greeted him.

  “Good morning. How do you feel?”

  “My head is throbbing a bit, but pretty good, all things considered.”

  “What about your body?”

  Well that was a weird question. ‘Was I right after all?’ She couldn’t help but think back to waking up in just her underwear, no bra included.

  “Why do you ask?” She asked carefully.

  “I gave you a massage last night. I worked hard, but there was a problem.”

  “What kind of problem?”

  “Hmm… Rather than a problem, it was more of an oddity. You have mana interference resistance, right?”

  “So I was told. Want to check it again?”

  Valeria extended her hand, which Abram grasped firmly, and changed his expression to one of astonishment.

  “You do have it now.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You didn’t have mana interference resistance last night, when I gave you the massage.”

  “Is this condition something that can randomly disappear?”

  “No, it is not. I would just assume that I was tired and made a mistake, but it looks like it worked. The life mana I pushed into you definitely worked, since you look much better than yesterday.”

  Valeria held up her index finger, signaling him to pause the explanation. She started moving her limbs around, felt up her own face, and reached for a mirror she found earlier in the necromancers treasury.

  ( Normally one would assume that the mirror could be holding some miraculous effect, hence its location in the safe, but one has to remember that Franz the Corpse Pimp hid his precious jewels and money behind a painting of himself. )

  “I can scratch my back with my left hand, which I wasn’t able to do for years, and I think I look a decade younger. I think with some make up, I could totally pass for a woman of marriageable age.”

  “I would love to think my massage and magic are that effective, but the last thing ain’t ever gonna happen.”

  “You’re just another man underestimating the power of good make up. I could probably make you look like a pretty lady, if you would just shave.”

  “I’m not ever letting you near me if I see you holding face powder, but that’s beside the point. No mana should work on you, but my mana did, yesterday.”

  “Could it be because I was sleeping?”

  “Unlikely. A case like this was never recorded.”

  “Then, how about my drunken state? That Mana Interference Resistance sounds awfully like an anti magical defense, and I think we could see that drinking a bottle of mead made me lower my defenses.”

  “Is that a joke?”

  “Yes. Or it should be one, but do you have any better theory?”

  “…No.”

  “Then it’s settled.”

  “How? Mana Interference Resistance is a condition people suffer from their entire lives. You mean to tell me you momentarily recovered from it by… getting hammered?”

  “You know, they do say that booze can cure any ailment.”

  “Did you stop being a woman this morning? Because you talk like a middle aged man.”

  “Middle aged, huh? Did I really get that much younger?”

  “No.” Abram denied firmly. “Please don’t go around justifying rampant alcoholism with medicinal properties of booze.”

  “I’m not an alcoholic. It was my first time getting wasted since who knows when. And hey, the results were good. Oh, but can any older person just get a decade younger through a single massage? Wouldn’t that make people immortal?”

  Abram snorted at the ridiculous notion.

  “Of course not. Any normal body gets number to mana as they age. Yours didn’t, obviously. Pushing it in was tough, but the results were beyond expectations.”

  “I should be careful about getting drunk, then?”

  “We still don’t know if that’s the reason.”

  “True enough. I suggest we triple check, just to be sure.”

  “You are saying that just to get wasted.”

  “No, I’m saying that to get another massage.”

  “The first one was for free, but you’ll have to pay for more.”

  Valeria laughed. ‘He sounds like a dealer selling cocaine near elementary school.’

  “Sure. I know it’s a proper job, and an impressive skill”

  Maybe such an effect was more common here, but if someone was able to make an old person feel ten years younger with a single massage back in Sarwa, they would be swarmed with clients, no matter how expensive their services would be. Demanding someone of such skill to work for free would be an actual crime, and Valeria wasn’t about to rob an honest man.

  Abram looked at her weirdly.

  “What?”

  “It’s pretty rare for someone to acknowledge that. You wouldn’t believe how many people believe that anyone offering a massage is actually just a prostitute trying to ‘work’ around any existing regulations.”

  “Really? They need to get older, maybe then they’ll learn to appreciate a service that makes their joints hurt less.”

  “Old people aren’t any better. The salary being lower than what a mercenary makes wasn’t the reason for my career change, the creeps were.”

  “Sorry to hear that, I guess. Oh, right. I was meaning to ask you. Would you know by any chance if necrotic mages can age food with their mana? This Franz guy destroyed his rope, and it smelled similar to that cheese we were eating.”

  “Not really aging. Just like ‘Life mana’ is often called ‘mana of growth’, necrotic mana has another name as well: ‘Mana of Decay.’ And yes, it can help with production of certain foods. As a matter of fact, just like beauty treatment and low volume plant growth are life magicians entry occupations, caring for mushrooms, making cheese, and fermenting pickled food is something Necrotic mages tend to do as part time jobs.”

  “Wasn’t being a necrotic mage illegal?”

  “Far from it. It’s only necromancy that’s strictly regulated.”

  “So, are there legal necromancers?”

  “Yeah, but they can’t use human corpses. That’s very much illegal.”

  “You sure are comfortable talking about this when you displayed your disdain for necromancers on more than one occasion.”

  Abram frowned, once again displaying his disaproval.

  “Of course I hate the criminal scum that stains the image of regular necrotic mages! If not for these pathetic motherfuckers that play with human remains, my wife could walk with her head held high! And maybe wouldn’t need to buy some shady ass, back alley pills.”

  “Your wife is a necrotic mage?”

  “She prefers being called a ‘Decay magician’ but essentially, yes. Honestly, there is no way we would live as close to the City of the Dead if she wasn’t.”

  “Does she command undead? Not humanoid ones, but something like a big dog?”

  “Oh, yeah. I wouldn’t leave a woman who is, for the time being, unable to use magic, all alone around here, If she didn’t have at least one undead bear left over from the time before her accident.”

  “Are you worried about her?”

  “Of course I am.”

  “Then, shall we get going?”