After gathering equipment, it was time to set out. Abram asked Valeria to do the impossible.

  “Leave that cheese behind, please?” He said.

  “There is not a living soul around here, do you really thing we should be wasting good food?”

  “Wasting food is one thing, but carrying fifty pounds of cheese through the wilderness is a bit too much, don’t you think?”

  Valeria pointed at the necromancer, who remained silent.

  “We can just make mister Franz here carry it. It’s not that big of a deal, you know?”

  “He isn’t a pack mule, and he is barely standing, with how many times you knocked him out.”

  Mister corpse pimp nodded vigorously, his face full of hope, but stopped, and his face turned into a pained grimace. Undoubtedly courtesy of his head being knocked around without care.

  Valeria shrugged.

  “Well, I don’t really know what magicians are capable of, so keeping him unconscious is a reasonable thing to do, don’t you agree?”

  “As well as cruel, yes. Isn’t it enough that you are making him carry all the gold and silver?”

  “We are making him carry all the gold and silver. And there is not that much of it here to begin with, he could carry more.”

  “I thought you were being cruel when you ordered me to walk on an injured leg, but I realize now that you are someone who thinks literal torture is normal treatment. But that’s beside the point. All that cheese will be wasted either way, you know? I have a shit ton of it at home, if we bring any more, it’ll just result in us having to throw it out.”

  “Oh, right. You did say your wife was a decay magician. Is she a cheesemaker as well?”

  “Obviously. And her cheese is pretty damn good. Better than this one, that is something I’m certain of. You can’t compare a guy who made cheese only because he was bored to a woman as passionate about fermentation as my Flora.”

  Valeria nodded in approval.

  “Praising your wives’ cooking and her hobby? I prophesize you a long and satisfying life. But that’s not enough of a reason to waste food. We could donate it, you know? There are surely people in dire need of cheese?”

  “I don’t think I know anyone who would desperately need cheese in particular. Food as a whole, maybe. But not every orphanage is willing to take a donation connected to a famous criminal, especially not someone as vile as Franz the Corpse Pimp.”

  Valeria could see how that could be the case.

  ‘Compromise it is, then.’

  “Alright, I can see your point. I’ll just take one wheel then. This one.”

  She held up a wheel of supple yellow substance.

  “Isn’t that the heaviest one? Also, it doesn’t even taste that good.”

  “That’s because that one is the freshest. In terms of cheeses I’m familiar with, this one is like gouda, while the one we ate yesterday tasted like well aged cheddar.”

  “I don’t know any of those names. Your point?”

  “Gouda melts way better.”

  “Ah. Point taken.”

  “Honestly, I’m surprised you didn’t know that, considering your wife is supposedly proficient in cheese making.”

  “It’s not just proficiency. She is great at all things fermented. Alas, I am rarely melting my own cheese. She supposedly can’t stand how I’m burning it every time.”

  “Great. Then, to make your wife happy, during our trip you’ll be training with this wheel.”

  “Does training include carrying it?”

  “You catch on fast. Now, don’t wuss out! Happy wife, happy life. And I bet she would be happy If you just learned to respect her work.”

  /

  Abram heaved 20 pounds of fermented cow juice, and started walking behind Valeria.

  “I feel cheated” He sighed.

  “How so?”

  “I was trying to convince you to leave the cheese behind, so why and how, am I the one carrying it right now?”

  “To live a long, merry life, didn’t I explain it already? You’d do well to listen to people with more experience than you.”

  Abram did the right thing, and stopped arguing. Instead, he picked up his pace, taking his frustrations on a limping necromancer, who was ordered to shut up, and therefore said nothing.

  This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.

  ‘This boy will go far.’ Valeria was filled with desire to train that kid a little bit, so that he would whine a little bit less, and think about his word choices more. Ultimately, sometimes what we need to live a fulfilling life, is a little pain tolerance.

  “How is your wound?”

  “Better, I guess. We’ll see after we get back to my home.”

  “Did you already get rid of the bandages?”

  “Yeah, I boiled them yesterday.”

  Hearing such words coming from a young man, Valeria raised her brows a little bit.

  ‘Right, I’m not in the modern world anymore. No one just throws out perfectly usable fabric around here. I guess that’s a good thing.’

  She always complained about wastefulness of the new generation. They never tried to fix anything, and instead continued to throw slightly used stuff out, and buy new merchandise, which they would throw out right after.

  ‘Perhaps that’s the reason behind the crazy divorce rates. No one even tries to fix their marriage, and changes partners instead. Well, I suppose that’s one more thing this guy has going for him.’

  Truthfully, she took liking to the kid. Which is why she decide to give him some lessons to help him not widow his wife too soon.

  ‘Once it’s a little calmer, I’ll be teaching him a bit.’

  Of course, her teachings were usually treated as punishment to the ones receiving them, but they were definitely effective.

  ‘On another note, I’ll need to ask about the true worth of cores, and materials for magic pills, or whatever they were called. It seems this place runs on those things, and being ignorant about them will do me no good.’

  /

  Flora was getting worried. Abram, that moron, set out to the city of the dead in order to get necrotic cores and recognition of a noble family. It would be safer with some trusted people, but not many people could be trusted in the first place, so he went alone.

  She didn’t want him to, but ultimately, they didn’t have a choice. Pills made by a back alley alchemist turned out to be much more dangerous than she thought they could be. The only reason she was even alive and still had hope of using magic in the future, was her ‘then – not – yet – husband’, who used his growth mana to calm down and stabilize her rampaging mana of decay.

  If not for that, she would’ve likely rotted away. Literally.

  Back then, they were only engaged. After the accident, Flora even thought about breaking off that engagement to not drag Abram down, but he insisted on getting married faster instead.

  “I’ll get some noble family to acknowledge me, and climb up so high up the ladder, that they’ll be asking me to let them cure my sick wife.”

  A plan full of optimism, but not unrealistic. As it hinged on her being his close family member and therefore having the right to receive the same medical treatment as him, Flora ended up marrying Abram quickly, exactly like he wanted. She didn’t regret it.

  In the end, he really did get employed by the Hermann family.

  What worried Flora, was that he was working too hard. Going to the city of the dead is always a risk, but doing so alone was just plain reckless.

  He even declined taking her undead bear with him, saying that she needs the protection even more.

  “I’ll be back in four days, tops. Do make something good to eat.” He said, and left the house.

  But it was the fifth day already, and yet he was nowhere to be seen.

  Flora looked at her undead bear. It was still in a great condition. Normally, undead had to stay outside, due to the smell, but Abram wasn’t home anyway, and she put a lot of effort in preparing the bear for long term use. When it was alive, it was one heck of a beast, defeated by Flora – Abram duo, but not without difficulties.

  Suddenly, it growled quietly.

  ‘Danger’ She realized, and grabbed her axe.

  Flora made a gesture, signaling the bear to quietly move closer to the doors.

  *KNOCK, KNOCK *

  The doors rattled, and from beyond them, a rough, loud voice could be heard.

  “Open up without a fuss and you can get out of this alive!”

  ‘Bandits, huh?’

  Likely drawn by a lone house in the middle of the woods, the bandits made no attempt at stealth.

  “Fuck off or I’ll grow mushrooms on your corpses!” She answered calmly, albeit firmly.

  “What can a single woman do?”

  “Kill you, that’s what! And I do have a husband!”

  “Then why isn’t he the one answering, huh?”

  ‘I am sorry, my ancestors. I am still immature.’ She thought, and answered: “He’s off fucking your mother!”

  *BAM* *BAM* *BAM*

  This time, the assailants were definitely trying to destroy the doors. Fortunately, those things were made to handle a bear trying to break in.

  “I wanted to sell you bitch to an underground brothel, but I guess I’ll have to teach you a lesson personally if I want my merchandise to lose its spunk!”

  *CRACK*

  The sound of glass shattering alerted Flora of a great oversight on her part.

  ‘Shit, the window!’

  She turned its way, making a gesture to order her undead bear to remain facing the doors.

  Fortunately, the window was quite small, and rather high of the ground, so she stood by it right on time. Her great axe fell on the first, unsuspecting limb she had seen emerging from the outside.

  A scream of the other party made her smile.

  ‘Thought you can just get my attention with some weak provocations and get in through the window, huh? Keep dreaming.’

  Flora snorted, completely ignoring the fact that the weak provocations totally did get her attention, and a bandit almost got in through the window.

  “You’ll pay for what you did to Dratz!”

  *CRACK*

  This time, the assailants had to use some kind of tool, because the door slightly cracked.

  *CRACK*

  Flora took a stance, still facing the window.

  *CRACKABOOM*

  The doors gave way, and a few people barged in at once.

  “Urchin, go get’em!” She shouted, her undead bear wasting no time for pleasantries, and immediately getting to the ‘murder every breathing thing except for master’ part.

  “What the fuck, why is there a bear here!?”

  The bandits seemed to dislike her pet.

  ‘A better question would be: Why is there a door the size of a bear in a log cabin?’

  One more came through the window. Flora’s great axe was swung once more, this time hitting the neck of a scrawny, dirty criminal. His head almost rolled into the kitchen.

  ‘Damn it, I’ll have to clean all that later.’

  She turned around, and saw Urchin, her undead bear munching on a corpse of a fat, hairy man.

  “You killed my brothers, don’t blame me for being impolite!”

  The voice could be heard from outside.

  She smelled a scent of scorched wood roughly from the same direction.

  ‘Is there a fire magician?’

  Her suspicions were not unreasonable. It was so incredibly wet outside, starting a fire with flint and steel in such a weather would be highly difficult. And that didn’t even take into account the stress of participating in a failed robbery, which certainly didn't help with starting a fire.

  The scent got stronger, and white smoke started to enter the house.

  'Fuck, I'll have to go out.'

  It was a problem. For all she knew, they were hoping she does just that.

  Suddenly, she heard a serias of thumps, groans, and a muffled scream. Her undead bear shut up, letting her hear the outside better.

  “You can leave the remaining garbage for me to deal with, kid. Go check up on your wife.”

  A feminine, husky voice commanded.

  Flora heard footsteps, and relaxed. Their sound was just as familiar as the voice that came from their owner.

  “Flora, are you okay!?”

  “Abram!” If Flora could move her hips correctly, she would have jumped into his embrace. Instead, she did the next, most obvious thing, and asked:

  “So… Who’s the woman?”