My Undead Legion Kills God's

Chapter 28: Sacrificial Pawns.

Damien pushed aside the thick cloth covering the entrance and stepped into the smithy with the supplies balanced in his arms.

The warm air hit his face almost immediately, melting away the frost clinging to his hair and clothes.

"Mr Bo".

Standing beside the forge was a muscular man in his late forties, his broad frame illuminated by the orange glow of the fire.

"And what hell did you crawl out from, boy?".

Damien stood awkwardly for a moment before dropping the supplies.

"I’m Damien, I was helping Claire deliver the last of your supplies".

"Oh, you’re him". He said indifferently before once more drawing a puff of smoke from his pipe.

"You know me?". Damien inquired.

"Yeah, that fairy lass wouldn’t stop ranting about you to the whole camp, apparently you fought bravely, risking your life for them multiple times... but it really changes nothing, that dormant ability of yours still makes one wonder".

Damien allowed the silence to grow.

"And what do you wonder?".

The old man looked up at Damien.

"Why ask a question when you don’t care about the answer, I have seen lots of people in my life, both good and bad. I’m not sure which one you are, but you certainly have enough time to decide".

Damien smirked darkly.

"I’m definitely not a bad person, in fact. I’m the realest dead man there is".

The old man chuckled softly.

"You can go ahead and move the supplies over with the rest of them, and you can call me old man Bo, everyone does these days"

Damien picked up the supplies without complaint and carried them to the side of the tent, stacking them neatly with the rest.

Bo was already hammering away at the glowing piece of steel. The steady clang of metal echoed through the smithy.

Damien walked over and quietly watched him work, he didn’t want to interrupt, but he really wanted to make an order for a bow and a set of arrows, fortunately, old man Bo suddenly spoke up with an annoyed scowl.

"What do you want boy, I’ve got work to do".

Damien coughed awkwardly.

"Sorry for staring... Can you forge arrows like these?". Damien showed him one of the black arrow heads he kept after the battle.

Old man Bo grumbled while taking the arrow head, he glossed over it for a bit before nodding.

"It’s a complex design, but the ancient people of the ruins left behind their forging methods, I should be able to create an exact replica".

Damien heaved a sigh of relief.

"Thank you, also I need a bow... a light black one would be for the best".

Old man Bo grimaced darkly.

"Why ask for arrow heads when you don’t even have a bow? Our supplies are limited and I’m only allowed to forge weapons for warriors and scouts... are you a warrior perhaps or maybe a scout".

Damien shook his head.

"Then why are you here?". Old man Bo snapped.

"Well I will need a weapon to be a warrior or a scout".

Old man Bo went silent, Damien certainly had a point there, the camp had a system he needed to respect, so he still couldn’t help Damien forge a bow and arrows right away.

"You should volunteer to join the next scouting mission, I heard Andrea has been looking for willing participants".

Damien’s expression twisted unnaturally.

"Scouting my ass, she’s just looking for sacrificial pawns to test the advancing Eidolon forces".

Damien didn’t need to say it out loud, old man Bo could tell he hated the idea.

"What about this, if you can get Andrea and the round table to vouch for you, I will help you forge your bow and arrow".

Damien’s expression darkened until even Bo found it difficult to meet his eyes, but the old man had no choice but to deliver the bad news, it was part of the job description.

Damien reluctantly left the smithy. His mood had soured so much that he didn’t even notice the wary glances people cast his way as he walked past.

"The round table, those stuck up wannabes playing house are too busy looking for fancier words to insult each other with, there’s no way they will listen to me... When we first came, they were the guys that insisted I was dangerous, now everyone thinks I’m some kind of monster, and Andrea... She just let them get away with it, I can’t trust her either".

Damien sighed helplessly, he couldn’t exactly stay weaponless. The Eidolon army could reach the frozen wastelands any day now.

"Well, staying low key had never been my style. Let’s see how they react to my request. If they continue to oppose me openly, I would need to find ways to get rid of them. I won’t allow them to keep me weak and disposable".

... ...

The main tent was dozens of times bigger than the others. Its edges were decorated with faded golden lace, and it sat at the centre of the camp.

When Damien reached the entrance, he was stopped by a man with long black hair, ear piercings and a general rugged appearance.

"Great, they also have a glorified house dog".

"Let me through, I need to see the members of the round table".

The man carefully swept his long black hair behind his shoulders, adjusting it with almost obsessive care before settling his disturbing gaze on Damien once again.

"This tent is restricted, you will need a formal invitation to enter".

Damien’s eyes went cold.

"Great, what next? Do I submit my CV and come back in seven business days, or should I write a letter to their secretary requesting an audience with them... stuck-up pricks".

"Tell Andrea it’s Damien, She told me to report to her if Yuri wakes up... She has".

Hearing that it was about Yuri, the rugged man smiled wearily. "Alright, but wait here while I report to Andrea... seriously man, don’t come in after me. It wasn’t easy securing this job".

Damien nodded briskly.

"Well I guess everyone is just doing what they can to survive".