The First Lich Lord
Chapter 53

“Why didn’t you warn us about the dire wolves?” Father Mathis shouted. “And why didn’t you help us fight them off?”

“It’s simple really,” I said evenly. “You didn’t ask about any dangers, and you didn’t ask us to help. Though I honestly didn’t expect the pack to attack a large group of humans.”

I thought Mathis was going to give himself an aneurism with how angry he became after that. He screamed some rather choice invectives at me and Maxwell—without his robes, you’d never have believed he was a priest.

“That was a real dick move by your friend,” Tyler said to Maxwell. “Half my troops have severe injuries and I even lost a few men.”

“You’re forcing us to do something we don’t want to,” Maxwell glared. “And that’s after you spent a night confining us to a small, dark cell. For me it wasn’t bad, but for Zeke it was literal torture.”

“That just means he is an evil doer.” Tyler shook his head. “You would be better off without him. Last night just proves his evilness.”

“If evilness is watching fanatics like you—on your way to murder a bunch of people because they don’t agree with you—get torn apart by some wolves—” I shrugged. “Then I guess I am evil.”

Tyler huffed derisively and stormed away. The rest of the night passed quietly and the next morning, we moved out.

When we left the enclave the last time, we’d seen the correct way to leave the grove. I’d debated not showing the fanatics, but it wouldn’t matter. They would have eventually found their way here without our help. As we entered the grove, I told Father Mathis that the path led directly to the enclave.

With their goal in sight, Father Mathis and Tyler all but forgot about Maxwell and me. As they raced ahead, the two of us fell behind.

“Please tell me you’ve got some kind of plan now?” Maxwell whispered.

“I don’t know.” I was conflicted. Part of me was still stuck on the idea that I was evil and needed to redeem myself, but a larger part rallied against that idea.

Shouting started coming from the front of the fanatics, but we couldn’t understand it. Later I found out Father Mathis had shouted something that amounted to ‘Let us come in and murder all of you for the glory of Olattee.’ I didn’t blame the enclave for firing the first shot.

The sound of conflict erupted from ahead, and Maxwell and I pressed forward. We watched the fight from the platform where the wall grew off the cliff. Still along the narrow path that cut into the side of the cliff, we had a unique vantage that allowed us to see both sides. Dwarves and elves fought against the human fanatics. The fanatics were by far the more powerful force. The corps of clerics led by Father Mathis provided Tyler’s knights with powerful buffs and protections.

The wall the defenders were perched on wasn’t tall, but it was high enough that they held a major advantage. Except the knights wore heavy armor and were protected by powerful holy magic. Ranged attacks and spells just bounced off them. When the fanatics reached the base, they worked together to start lifting each other up to the top.

Dwarves in heavy armor moved in, using short spears to try and keep them from rising. It was evident the defenders weren’t trained fighters. At least, the majority weren’t, and the professionalism of the knights showed its strength as they worked together as a unit.

Other than the defensive wall, the only advantage the defenders had was a much more powerful magical corp. Even if its members weren’t used to fighting, I could tell immediately that all of them were talented mages and wizards. The defensive shields of the fanatics strained under a barrage of magic attacks. Few made it through. Fireballs exploded across the ledge, ravaging the fanatics. One man got blasted off the cliff edge, his scream following him as he disappeared from sight.

For a moment, it seemed like the superior magical firepower would be enough to sway the fight and I started to relax. Then things changed. After Father Mathis’s clerical corps had raised their defenses and buffed the knights, a portion switched to building a new spell. A powerful bolt of pure white magic shot forward and impacted the gate with a boom. A second and third bolt followed, hammering the gate.

A rapidly, thrown together defensive spell built around the gate, but when I returned my attention to Father Mathis and the clerics, I knew it wouldn’t be enough. If the gate came down, the defenders would be in trouble. The well-trained knights would slaughter everyone in sight.

It was a moment that seemed to stretch forever. And then I caught the eye of a dwarf. Bith, with an angry look, met my gaze and started yelling something. I couldn’t hear him, but I could partially read his lips. He was saying something along the lines of ‘Decided you bloody idiot.’

I knew what I needed to do. Something I honestly should have done a while ago. “We fight,” I said to Maxwell, and started running down the path.

As I ran, I recited the oath. I’d read it over and over again until I knew it by heart. All I had to do was utter words out loud with intent to take the oath.

“Where the Darkness is suffocating, I shall be the herald of Light, and where the Light is blinding, I shall be the harbinger of Darkness!” My soul changed in that moment as I hurled Mercy at Father Mathis.

The world transformed into a frozen grayscale, rendering me completely unable to move. A door opened in the air before me, and as it opened, a man in a well-tailored gray suit stepped out, seemingly from nowhere. He had penetrating gray eyes, black hair, and tan skin.

He looked around in amusement. “You know, normally people don’t take this oath moments before they enter battle.” His voice was deep and authoritative. “I just came to welcome you to the Order of Equinox.” He glanced at Mercy stuck in the air next to him, then to Father Mathis. He placed a hand on the tip of the spear, adjusting its position. “Hopefully, you will be a member for a long time.”

The man stepped closer to me. “My name is Ekwin, the god of balance. I would normally take the time to give you a proper explanation of how the Oath will affect your abilities, but I can see this is not the time.” He pulled a book out of thin air, the very one I kept hidden in my robe, and suddenly it was thicker. “I put the information in here. The quick version is that your undead, And you in particular,are now going to be far more resistant to holy magic, along with numerous other benefits. Having a Lich in my order I think will prove to be quite powerful.” Ekwin headed back to the door. “Anyways, best of luck.”

Ekwin waved and stepped through the open door. The moment the door vanished, the world began to move again. Mercy sailed toward Father Mathis and struck him square in the back. The sharp blade punched through his clerical robes and body, his back arching from the sheer force, crying out in pain.

Father Mathis somehow managed to disperse the spell he’d been building as he collapsed to the ground. It spoke to his high level that the attack hadn’t outright killed him. I was still trying to process what Ekwin had said when Mathis’s gaze fell on me. Pure rage and hatred blazed within his eyes.

A blur rocketed at me and I tried to dodge, but failed—nothing hit me and I continued to move unobstructed. A moment later, a bolt from a cleric shot through where I’d been a moment before. It was my precognition ability.

Reaching my hand out toward Mercy, I summoned it back to me and let my illusion spell dissipate. Before Mathis’s stunned eyes, my human form bled away, revealing a black skeleton covered in strands of emaciated black flesh. I drank a mana potion with one hand as I caught Mercy in the other. Spinning it in a deadly arc, I cut down the cleric who’d fired on me.

Music from Maxwell filled the air and transformed to the sound of the “Imperial March” from Star Wars. The rest of the clerical corps slowly turned toward me, but it was too late—I was already amongst them. I kept Mercy moving, leaving a trail of festering wounds behind.

Some thought all clerics were melee fighters, but that’s just not the case. War and battle clerics could be, but cleric NPCs especially were pure casters and therefore squishy. As I cut into them, Maxwell’s magic began to debuff them. I was certain I was scary enough as is, but true terror started crossing many of the clerics’ faces.

Nearby clerics drew weapons that were heavily enchanted with holy magic and turned them on me. With my abilities to see many attacks coming before they landed, I was able to more than match them. I cut a path straight to Father Mathis—the parasite was being healed by a pair of clerics. The wound in his chest was severe, but clearly not enough.

My mana was still depleted from the illusion spell, but it was recovering quickly. I was being careful to conserve it, but I cast one spell I’d recently unlocked again. Mercy began to emanate dark tendrils of magic that turned into streaks as I rapidly moved the blade. The spell was a powerful necromancy spell that would raise those killed by the blade into weak zombies.

It cost most of the mana I’d recovered, but it was more than worth it. The undead it created took some of the clerics’ attention off me. The spell also seemed to be interacting with festering wounds left by the blade, accelerating their effect. I ran a cleric through and she gasped in pain. The necrotic festering spread rapidly from the wound in her stomach, and before she fell to the ground, her eyes glazed over and she stumbled toward her former allies.

They recoiled in horror. As the weak zombie attacked, one of the more experienced clerics turned on their former ally’s body. The level ten zombie was torn apart in moments, though not as quickly as it should have been. Their holy weapons weren’t nearly as effective as they normally were against the undead. And with each additional one I created, I pushed deeper toward my target.

Just as the festering wound in Father Mathis’s chest was finished being healed, I reached him. At the same time, Tyler pushed through fleeing clerics back toward me.

“You are a monster!” Father Mathis snarled. “I knew it. Rhea was just blind!”

The two clerics who’d healed him were exhausted and barely had time to react before I cut them down. As they rose again as weak zombies, I glared at Mathis. “Fuck you,” I growled, ramming Mercy through his chest once again before he had a chance to fully recover.

As the festering wound spread rapidly through his body, I pulled out one of the death cores I’d taken, shoved it in his open mouth, and delivered a sharp uppercut to his jaw, slamming his mouth shut. Magical cores were normally not easily broken, and that was a good thing since they released an explosion of magic based on what type of core they were. Except this was a special core created by a Lich, and wasn’t nearly as stable as a natural occurring death core.

An explosion of death energy washed over me, not affecting me in the slightest. There was a special satisfaction in seeing Father Mathis wither, and many nearby clerics were instantly killed. I snorted. It spoke of the weakness of these clerics that so many died.

Tyler stood not far off. The explosion had cleared the way for him and another knight to get to me. I pulled out the other two death cores I’d brought with me and smiled a skeletal grin.