Legendary Necromancer: My First Summon is the Undead Dragon-Chapter 50: Stop the trials

"Indeed, have been for a while," he said with a smile. "But you, you are new, there’s no record of you, no news, nothing for the past months and then you popped up out of nowhere. Honestly, I find that kind of unsettling," the man said and walked closer to Jake, but Cryot stepped forward in a threatening manner.

"Please don’t get heated," the man said and stepped back. "All I’m saying is what has been said since the moment you got into this town today.

Yes, they have been watching you ever since you walked in," the man said.

"Who are they?" Jake asked.

"I can tell you, but it would be of no use now, would it? Instead, I have a better proposal for you. My name is John," he said and stretched out his hand again. This time, Jake shook it.

"I’m Jake."

"Nice to meet you, Jake. Allow me to go straight to the point. I’m part of a hidden secret organization spread throughout the continent.

And what we do is research methods and ways to stop the trials," John said.

"Hmmm? Stop the trials?" Jake asked.

"Yes, but there’s more to it. You see, we’ve been watching you. I believe you have been with someone from our organization—the kid with the sand," John said.

"You know Rion?" Jake asked in shock.

"Yeah, that’s what he goes by now. Rion works for our organization, and he told us about you. You want to have the ability to control your fate, right?

Well, that’s what we are looking for in summary. Come with me, and I’ll explain everything," John said and started walking.

"He is being honest, there’s no lie," Drake said.

Jake followed the man. He led them through the main street and then down an alley back into another main street where a bar was still open.

It was the only place that was open in the area. The man pushed the door and walked into the bar. There was no one inside aside from the buff dwarf behind the counter.

He was just about five foot tall, with a ripped body, and a heavy beard that was braided at the tips.

"John, you are back," the dwarf said.

"Yeah yeah, I found who I was looking for," John said.

"You know it’s for nothing, right? This organization has existed for years here but couldn’t even find any good leads.

At the end of the day, you’re stuck a chosen, and you’ll probably have to kill your comrades," the dwarf said. He picked up a cup and poured himself a beer, gulping it all down immediately.

"That’s why this time we will move fast, before the trials get too heavy," John said.

"Get too heavy? Over fifty people died in this bar today, what more could be heavier than that?" he asked. He used the back of his arm to clean the beer from the sides of his mouth.

"It will work out, John. Stop being grumpy, I’ll be going down to the cellar," John said and walked past the counter, through the door there. Jake followed behind. He glanced at the dwarf before he passed.

"Who is he?" Jake asked.

"That’s Rogen. He is a dwarf that has lived here for over two hundred years. He has seen one trial before and has lived to see another," John said.

"Two hundred years?" Jake asked.

"Yes. Dwarves live for up to three hundred, sometimes four hundred, and if they are very lucky, they get to five hundred years.

They live almost as long as elves, with the normal elf living for up to eight hundred years, and pure bloods reaching a thousand. There are elves that have lived through five or more trials.

Elven civilization is far more advanced than humans because people who live to see the destruction stay alive and pass on the tales of what happened. This trauma that they saw with their own eyes allows them to build better for the next trial," John said.

"I see, and I’m guessing humans don’t have this opportunity to live long," Jake said.

"Yeah, our time is crap compared to theirs, dying at sixty and seventy, but we breed like rabbits, giving birth, while other races have lower fertility.

That and our short time push us to make life for future generations better, birthing innovation and more," John said.

They walked down a hallway for a bit and finally came to a stairway that led down. They walked down the stairs into a cellar; the warm smell of beer and rum reached their noses first.

But barrels were not the only things inside this cellar. Desks, bookshelves, boards, maps, weapons, and more.

There were a few people inside. A lady sitting in the corner wrapped a bandage around her arm. She seemed to be in a very bad mood, her silver hair hung over, wet from sweat.

At one end was a young boy of similar age to Jake, reading through a book in silence, and finally a man napping on one chair, his legs on the table, and the chair leaning back.

"Petra, seems you had a hard time in your trial," John said.

"I swear to God, John, I’ll shove a fireball down your throat," she said in anger.

"No need to get angry. Tell me what happened," he said, taking a pull of his cigar and puffing the smoke into the air.

"A brat attacked me just when I was getting everyone to listen to me. I had already lost more than fifty people in that stupid restaurant, and the rest were finally listening.

A brat came from behind and attacked me. I reacted and slashed his head off, but his blade dug into my arm," she said in anger.

"Well, at least you didn’t die. That’s all that matters," John said. Petra then looked up, locking eyes with Jake.

"Who are the new ones?" she asked.

"Well, this is Jake, a chosen. The man behind him is his summon. The girl is a travel companion, I think. Or are you two sexually together?" John asked with a smirk.

Jake immediately covered Ophelia’s ears. "What the hell are you talking about?"