Inheritor Of Magic: The Magi King



"And what do you plan to do if they are still hungry when they run out of soldiers?" The mutant girl asked nervously.

"Put up a barrier and have a nap until they get bored and go away. It works quite well. They hate having their feathers burnt, in my experience. Because of that, they won't try too hard to break the barrier, and they'll go somewhere else. What do you do when a flock of them comes your way?"

She frowned at Wolfe before answering. "We hide. When they swarm, they can pick an entire village clean in a day. You are new here. You don't understand how terrifying the monsters are when they come at you in packs."

"I spent months with the witches defending the front lines against the monster tide that the mundane army caused. I've seen them come at us by the thousands and come up with ways to kill them. I even learned which ones taste best. But that's a bit different than being in the wild when they could come from anywhere." Wolfe agreed.

"If you were with the witches in battle, does that mean you know the secrets of the mystical brew for healing wounds?" She asked hopefully.

"Unfortunately, no. That is their own magic, and I can't do it. The ingredients are simple, but making a potion that has magical effects needs a witch."

"That's a shame. The mutants would be forever grateful if they could get healing magic. We always have injured clan members. Wait, you said you have a witch. We were supposed to not attack her, so that means she's in the Waste somewhere. Perhaps you have her locked in your den for the winter?

She could heal my people, and we wouldn't have to worry about the Wastes making the wounded ones sick. She can do that, right? Or did the army poison her too much?" The furry mutant girl asked eagerly.

"I think she can. Once we gather everything here, bring all of the injured from your team who can move, and we will try to get them healed." Wolfe agreed.

An alliance with the local mutants seemed like a great way to get information and survive the winter, especially since Wolfe had learned that the small creatures who ignored his presence were actually deadly and hostile monsters to everyone else.

There had to be some sort of link between him and the animals, which had become monsters. Possibly a lingering spell that made them less aggressive towards him, but Wolfe didn't know what it was yet. It would have to go on his ever-growing to-do list.

A half-hour later, Wolfe picked up the small mutant and stepped out of the foxhole so they could begin searching the camp for surviving items now that the remarkably vicious birds had finished picking the corpses apart.

"If I enchant another rifle or two, would you want them?" Wolfe asked, looking at a lightly burned trailer full of rifles and accessories.

"To do what? I'm not really a combatant, and mutants can't channel mana like a witch or store it like a male demon. They can just use what naturally accumulates in their bodies from living here.  After one burst, most of them couldn't use the rifle again for weeks, and it just makes [Fireballs], which a lot of my people can do already."

"Good point. Oh, there's a big box of breakfast ration packs untouched in here as well. Omelette, vegetarian, with less than a month before its expiration date. But it should still be good."

"Hard pass. That particular option wasn't edible when it was new. That's why the humans hid it. Try these. Smoked meat and poutine are the premium ones. They are way better than the ones in the other style of silver packs."

Wolfe looked around and found a dislodged vehicle hood and some rope to make a sled. He had to throw snow on it for a while before it stopped steaming, but the hood made a great transport for the supplies at nearly three meters long and two meters wide, with raised sides.

They gathered some fireproof tarps, sleeping bags, food, kitchen supplies, and everything that could be even vaguely useful until the sled was loaded to Wolfe's shoulder height.

The mutant climbed up on top and admired their work as she tied it all down, then turned to Wolfe for answers.

"Tell me this. How do you plan to move this lovely sled full of goodies now that it weighs at least two tons?"

"Oh, ye of little faith. Did you forget I'm a demon? I'm going to use gravity magic. Just stay right where you are, and I will bring you to my den.

Once we're there, we can discuss with the witch about making your people some healing potions. There are lots of medical supplies, including antibiotics, contained in this load as well, and we left more of everything behind for your doctors."

"What's a doctor?"

Wolfe wasn't quite sure how to answer that.

"Someone who specializes in healing the sick and injured. The cities use them for common illnesses when hiring a witch is too expensive."

"Oh, we have a healer in the clan, but I have never seen them use some of these things. I know the splints and bandages, though."

Maybe human drugs wouldn't work on mutants? Antiseptic wipes should be good for everyone, though. The girl's words suggested that they were worried about blood poisoning and infections. There was hard alcohol among the supplies as well, so something should work.

As they travelled, the mutant girl riding on the cargo occasionally let out a little trill or whistle until one of the dog-headed men answered back and came out of hiding to greet them.

"Are you captured? You don't look captured. Where are we going? Are there more people? Waiting here is boring." He asked, and the mutant on the sled sighed.

"Great, I finally found a scout, and it had to be an idiot. Forgive him, he's more canine than human, but he will get the injured to join us." She explained, then hopped down from the sled.

The two had a quick conversation, and the new arrival ran off barking and howling while the one accompanying Wolfe did her best to pretend she didn't actually know her excitable compatriot.

The noisy messenger was getting on her nerves, but he was also getting the job done. There was a lot more barking in the distance, all in the same pattern, so they were passing along whatever message he was sending.