A minor autopsy was necessary to determine the Manticore’s suitability for raising.

Unlike the average Gravewalker, preserving a beast’s intrinsically powerful features was necessary to guarantee that a necromancer could syphon as much use from its corpse as possible. Lieze found herself most interested in the state of the Manticore’s stringy wings - and if they were in any state to continue flapping once the creature had been reanimated.

“The right foreleg is shattered… about half of the beast’s ribs have been crushed…” She muttered to herself while digging into the Manticore’s flesh with her dagger, “Marché - you seemed to recognise the creature well enough. Are these wings simply for show, or are they capable of flight?”

Marché swivelled his head to avoid staring into the beast’s all-too-human eyes as he rounded the carcass to meet with her, “Flight? I can’t imagine why that wouldn’t be the case. If it truly was the creation of alchemists, then I can only imagine they’re the real deal. If they intended this creature to be a mere decoration, then I would have picked something a little less horrifying to create.”

“I didn’t ask for your opinion on the aesthetic appeal of Manticores.” She replied, “Can it fly?”

Marché grumbled, “...It should be able to, yes.”

The wings were somewhat frayed - webbed and thin as they were - but not destroyed. Lieze was already capable of levitation, but having a non-magical method of taking to the skies would provide her with a plethora of strategic opportunities.

“The petrification spell was reversed when I touched a tome in that hidden room.” Marché said, “I’ll take that to mean there was something important written in it, so I’ll have another look.”

With that, Marché disappeared towards the hideaway in question, leaving Lieze to her devices.

Placing a hand against the Manticore’s warm, bristly fur, she closed her eyes and shared communion with the Blackbriar. The corrupted portions of her body ached with a dull pain as necromantic energies flowed from her fingertips into the creature’s body, willing it to rise once again as an undead thrall.

Lieze’s MP - 1,410 / 1,480

The Manticore’s level - [56] - was approaching the maximum limit of her capability to raise. The higher a creature’s level was in life, the more it would be boosted in undeath. Helmach had provided Lieze’s army with untold offensive capability with his death. She was practically salivating at how powerful the Manticore would be.

As the seconds passed by, the creature’s body twitched as unholy magic coursed through its body. Its blood thickened to tar. Sores and lesions opened to expose dizzying rot-fumes. The Manticore’s lifeless eyes sparked anew with undeath. Only when it stood could Lieze appreciate the size of the beast. It was no wonder it had little trouble contesting the Rot Behemoth’s strength.

Undead Manticore Level 123 Undead HP - 26,199 / 26,199 MP - 2,879 / 2,879 BODY - 78 MIND - 39 SOUL - 6

The translucent box hovering over its head was the most beautiful thing Lieze had ever seen. The Manticore was like a walking fortress, with enough HP to face down the fiercest attacks she could envision. It would serve her well in the ongoing conflict with Alistair and Sokalar.

“Seeing this makes me wish I’d preserved that Drake…” Lieze said, “I wouldn’t mind a few more of these in our army.”

Quest ‘The Warped Beast’ Complete! Reward - 4,000XP

Level Up! You are now level [36] HP + 10 MP + 45 MIND + 1

Drayya seemed just as captured with the beast as her, marching its perimeter and admiring every aspect of its foul existence.

“With Tonberg’s population dwindling as a result of this war, we really do need every last thrall we can get our hands on.” She said, “I was worried about battling the Manticore at first, but now that we have it on our side, I can’t imagine how disappointed I’d have been if we smashed it to pieces.”

“I’m sure you’d love to sit and admire it for hours on end, but we don’t have the privilege of free time at the moment.” Lieze replied, “Let’s see if Marché can deduce anything from that tome, then we’ll return to the problem of Alistair and my father.”

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A few Gravewalkers had been lost in the battle - more than a worthwhile price for retaining such a powerful servant.

Lieze ducked into the hidden alcove, where Marché was poring over the dusty textbook splayed over the desk. His enthusiasm for exploring the annals of the past made Lieze wonder if necromancy was his true calling.

“Anything interesting?” She crossed her arms.

“I’ve only given it a skim, so I can’t say for certain, but…” He replied without turning around, “It mentions the Scions by name more than a handful of times. It seems to me like the sort of thing a Sage would have been interested in. Lots of alchemical diagrams and theistic writings…”

“There’s no time to be delving into ancient history at the moment.” She pushed Marché aside by the shoulder and widened the brim of her Bag of Holding to accommodate the tome’s dimensions, “I’ll have a closer look at it once the city is ours.”

Marché watched as she shovelled the grimoire inside, “We’ll most likely be confronting Alistair shortly if this cavern really is an entrance to the castle proper. Shouldn’t we stick our brains together and form a strategy?”

“That depends entirely on where we end up.” She replied, “I’m counting on my father to act as a distraction while we enter. If the entry point is located in some abandoned room, then we can afford to take our time plotting.”

“-And if it spits us out in the throne room?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Then there will be no strategy. Only blood and death. ” She said, “Now that we have this Manticore on our side, our chances at victory in open conflict have increased dramatically. But I’d rather we didn’t have to face Alistair head-to-head.”

The upcoming battle would decide the fate of the city. It was a three-way divide - Lieze, Alistair, and Sokalar, all seeking the same prize. Lieze couldn’t help but feel a little strange placing herself alongside the likes of Tonberg’s ruler and her own father. As it stood, her cult was pegged to be destroyed in the conflict, but there were a number of small boons she could use to her advantage.

Beginning on the short ascent back towards the cavern’s central chamber, Lieze considered the current position of Sokalar’s army relative to Alistair’s.

“Sokalar controls the ground, whereas Alistair controls the air…” She thought “Alistair is vastly outnumbered, but the castle is a near-impregnable fortress. When push comes to shove, I’d wager that both sides will be evenly matched.”

Her cult was a wild card - largely inconsequential in the grand scheme of things, but with the potential to turn the situation on its head. If Lieze played her cards right, she could end up on Tonberg’s throne just as easily as Sokalar or Alistair.

The remainder of the cult was nowhere to be seen in the chamber where Ricta had met his pitiful end. With any luck, they had suffered no blockades or dead ends when following the path that supposedly led to the castle.

“We’d best meet with them as soon as possible.” Lieze said, “Let’s get moving.”

The Manticore’s sheer size slowed the pace of her group more than she would have liked. Having to stop every minute or two to watch it dislodge a few stalactites from the ceiling, at the very least, gave her plenty of spare time to consider a possible strategy for defeating Alistair.

“Drayya.” She said.

“What is it?” The girl answered quickly, as if she was expecting to have her name called, “Thought up a way to kill Alistair, have you?”

“Not yet. But I do want to discuss our plans for when we enter the castle.” Lieze replied, “I would wager that just about every Artificial Scion under Alistair’s command will be stationed outside of the castle. If we can move quickly, we might be able to catch him by surprise.”

“So you say, but isn’t Alistair a Scion himself?” Drayya placed her hands behind her head.

“The Scion of evocation, yes.” She said, “-Which will be a problem. Evocation spells are typically projectiles - [Magic Missile] and the like. We should approach him under the assumption that he’s an especially dangerous spellcaster.”

“You stole that… thing from Morgan, didn’t you?” Drayya asked, “The gem in her hand? Didn’t you use that power of hers in the townhouse not long ago?”

“The circumstances of my position as a Scion have changed.”

Lieze raised her hand, revealing that the Gildwyrm’s scale had lost much of its former lustre, invaded by what appeared to be thorny tendrils dancing beneath its surface.

“I may have triumphed over death once, but I have a feeling that it didn’t come without a cost.” She continued, “Tell me, Drayya - why do you think my life matters more than the average Scion, such that the God of our Order would descend from on high to offer me a second chance at life?”

Drayya considered that question with a complex expression.

“...I don’t know.” She admitted, “But I don’t like it.”

“How refreshing. I thought the same myself.” Lieze replied.

“There’s too much about this Scion business that we don’t understand.” Drayya said, “It’s granting you power, certainly, but at what cost? We may just be playing into the hand of some divine entity by accepting aid wherever it comes.”

“We wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for the Gildwyrm’s grace.” She replied.

“You know, there was a time when I would have petitioned to banish you from the Order after hearing something like that.” Drayya smirked, “But now, I can’t be certain. Over the past two months, my allegiances have shifted completely. All of a sudden, Sokalar is now my enemy, and the pitiful necromancer who was once the laughingstock of the Order is just about the only person I can place any trust in.”

Once again, the Manticore found itself stuck on the cavern geometry. Lieze and Drayya stepped aside as the Rot Behemoth moved forward to break the creature free.

“Lieze.” Drayya said, “When we kill Alistair, don’t go absorbing that gem of his right away. We should have someone gifted in the art of alchemy to have a look at it.”

“Who do you recommend?” Lieze tilted her head, “As far as I know, all the alchemists in the city are already dead - or transformed into Artificial Scions.”

The Manticore broke free yet again, sending spikes of solid rock plummeting to the ground. Lieze wondered for a moment if the noise could be heard from the castle.

“We’ll find someone.” Drayya assured, “-And once we do, we’ll get to the bottom of this.”

“Look at you, trying to sound all dependable.” Lieze raised her arm to beckon the rest of her thralls as she continued on her ascent through the cavern, “If the Gods have plans in store for me, then I will oppose them just as I have opposed everyone foolish enough to stand in my way.”

The declaration was unfounded, but at the very least confident. Drayya had found some strange beauty in Lieze’s often-suicidal strategies. Hearing her speak ill of the Gods - including one she had spent the better part of her entire life worshipping - didn’t seem so ridiculous.

“Now, keep your eyes ahead.” Lieze trained her vision towards the encroaching darkness, “We have no idea what to expect once we reach the cavern exit. Be ready for a fight.”