Alistair’s body was flung through the air like a ragdoll. Shards of bone carved through his saintly robes. The thud of his weight against the ground was drowned out by a chorus of screeching metal as the Manticore barrelled through the wrought-iron partitions separating the garden’s walkways.
Lieze sucked a sliver of air through her teeth. Something of hers had certainly been broken during the impact, but she didn’t have the liberty of licking her wounds. The Manticore was in no shape to continue fighting after weathering Alistair’s magical assault in combination with its sudden crash-landing.
Lieze’s HP - 190 / 320
With laboured breaths, she lowered herself as best she could to the ground before dropping to one knee. A great path had been carved into the soil, either side wreathed in flames from the burning vegetation. Through the veil of smoke, Lieze could spot the Golem’s silhouette blocking the stars. It was well on its way to meeting Sokalar’s army.
Drayya and Marché dropped down not a second later. Both of them were surprised to find themselves alive - but not particularly well. Lieze could tell with a glance that they weren’t about to keel over, but one clean hit from a spell of any description would be the end of them.
Drayya’s HP - 75 / 370
Marché’s HP - 17 / 128
“We’re not even- ugh…” Marché tried and failed to hide his scrunched expression, “We’re not even halfway done with this farce and I’m already out of stamina…”
“Perhaps we’d be in slightly better nick if someone hadn’t sent us into a nosedive from hundreds of feet up in the air…” Drayya replied, “At least you seem no worse for wear, Lieze…”
It was quite possibly the nicest thing Drayya had ever said. Lieze was a mess; her hair was matted with dirt and blood, her cloak was tattered, and over half of her body had been replaced by black, intertwining tendrils studded with thorns.
“Go on ahead.” Drayya clenched her abdomen with one arm, “There’s no chance Alistair is dead. If we don’t kill him here, he’ll just find some way of slithering off.”
“You need to get inside.” Lieze said, “Gather up as many of the cultists as you can along the way. Most of the castle’s roof has been destroyed, so it should be safe enough.”
“Ah… going off on your own to claim victory, are you?” Drayya shook her head, “Not a chance. I’m coming with you. The cultists are Marché’s responsibility.”
“Fine. I don’t care.” Lieze paused, “There’s no time to waste. Let’s get moving.”
There was only one path to take out from the burning garden - which is to say, only one path that wasn’t engulfed in flames. Marché staggered off once the trio returned to the stone walkway, following the pained cries of his loyal followers. A smattering of lesser thralls were idling in the inferno’s glow - 5 Gravewalkers and a single Horror.
“Where have the Briarknights gotten to?” Lieze wondered, “This place is like a labyrinth with all this fire…”
Once, she had found some strange beauty in the twisting walkways of the castle gardens. Its wilting residents were an apt metaphor for the state of Ricta’s realm at the time. But the more she thought about it, the more appropriate a sea of fire became.
Lieze took control over the aimless thralls before following the path of the Manticore’s landing, trying to estimate where the rigged Artificial Scion had been dropped off.
Rounding a haze of fire howling from one of the smaller gardens, she was greeted with a bolt of magical force sinking into her flank. The crimson projectile felt like a knife being thrust into her gut.
Lieze’s HP - 98 / 370
Her hand rose, summoning a roiling mass of blood from her Bag of Holding to conjure a [Blood Barrier] just in time to prevent another bolt from striking true.
Lieze’s MP - 1,195 / 1,525
“Fucking cur…” Drayya cursed, popping the cork from a vial at her hip, “Watch yourself! He’s still got some fight left in him!”
Thick, crimson fluid spindled from the glass container, forming into a [Blood Spike]. Alistair, who at that moment had been relaxing on his back, scrambled to avoid the javelin, but a sprained ankle or some such malady prevented him from making any drastic movements. The spike tore into his side, ripping fabric and flesh alike.
“Argh!” The wrinkles upon the old priest’s face went taught for an instant, making him seem two decades younger, “Stubborn fools! Know when you’re beaten!”
Clutching his side with one hand, the other tightened around his focus with murderous intent. A circular gesture from the crystal crowning the stave summoned a familiar cluster of projectiles. Lieze could scarcely spot Alistair behind the impenetrable wall of sorcery.
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“Drayya!” She shot her hand out, taking the girl’s wrist, “Put your hand here!”
Drayya raised an eyebrow as her palm was placed flush against Lieze’s spine.
“...What, you want to get intimate?” She asked, “I’m flattered, but is this really the time?”
“Shut up!” Lieze exclaimed, “Use your necromancy!”
Drayya might have answered that with a few words of pure indignation, but she wasn’t given the pleasure. Alistair’s spell fell upon them like a rainstorm of blades, showering Lieze in a hail of murderous, unerring projectiles. Drayya was only protected from the attack by cowering in Lieze’s shadow.
She didn’t have any choice but to obey her instructions. Her mind’s eye was filled with visions of the Blackbriar’s great and terrible form as her palm became the channelling point for her [Supreme Necromancy].
She didn’t expect the spell to take, considering Lieze wouldn’t be dead for another few seconds, at least. How surprised she was when her visions only deepened in intensity. Drayya could have sworn that the Blackbriar itself had materialised in front of her with how fierce her communion became. Mana drained from her body like a broken dam.
[Supreme Regeneration] Activated Remaining Heavenly Favours - 0
Lieze was dead - there was no question about that. The wave of magical projectiles tore her to shreds and depleted her HP before she had time to blink. Even the power granted by [Supreme Regeneration] wasn’t nearly enough to save her.
But despite that, her soul lived on.
Her first death came as a curtain of nothingness enveloping her vision. For an instant, everything was dark and silent. Then, electricity pulsed through her corrupted veins, yanking her back to the world of the living, only for life to be snatched away from her in the next moment.
Drayya’s necromantic mana coursed through her body. As Alistair’s barrage of magic peeled the skin from her bones, [Supreme Regeneration] called upon the Blackbriar’s will to replace it with profane Godflesh, fuelled by the constant injection of sorcery into her spine. The entire exchange couldn’t have lasted longer than three seconds, but for Lieze, it may as well have lasted an eternity.
Drayya’s MP - 0 / 982
When the spell ceased, all that could be heard in the gardens were the crackling of embers and the snapping of branches.
Lieze was paralyzed with pain. If she so much as flexed a muscle, the agony would have sent her into the sweet throes of unconsciousness. Everything hurt. The searing touch of Alistair’s spell imparted the lovely sensation of her flesh melting off, whereas the invasive growth of the Blackbriar’s thorns squeezed her body like a corset studded with steel spikes.
Lieze’s HP 1 / 320
-But she was alive - in a sense. What remained of her worldly body was miniscule in comparison to the amount of corrupted thorns spreading across her skin. Every muscle, organ, and vein had been replaced with the flesh of something dark and inhumane. But she was still Lieze. Or, at least, she hoped she was.
“...Lieze?” Drayya spoke softly, as if she was afraid of awakening some kind of monster.
The simple act of moving her lips caused Lieze to wince in agony.
“Ah…” She took in a breath, “...What is it?”
“‘What is it’, she asks…” Drayya repeated, “How in the name of the Gods are you still alive!?”
She asked that question out of shock more than anything else. She could take a convincing guess at how the introduction of necromantic energies into Lieze’s body could have sustained her through traumatic injuries. But it wasn’t Drayya’s magic that had assured Lieze’s survival. It was her mana in combination with the girl’s heavenly ability to regenerate wounds near-instantly.
Drayya widened her eyes as Alistair stood to his feet. She stepped in front of Lieze and summoned another [Blood Spike] with the intention of finishing the priest off for good, only to find his execution delayed by Lieze’s outstretched arm.
“Don’t.” She commanded, “He’s harmless.”
To confirm, Lieze glanced over Alistair’s statistics.
Alistair Awldwin Level 44 Priest (!SCION!) HP - 186 / 353 MP - 0 / 840 BODY - 4 MIND - 17 SOUL - 23
His MP sat at a satisfying [0]. The empty flask dangling from his hip was all but emptied of a sapphire concoction - the remnants of a mana potion. The spell he was making liberal use of must have been a particularly expensive one.
“Impossible…” He stood with one leg lowered, “I saw you die… I saw your HP reach zero!”
For the first time, Lieze heard someone else speak openly of the system. As she had expected all along, others who had been gifted with the powers of the Scions received just as much information as her from a passing glance.
Defeated, Alistair tore the empty flask from his waist and tossed it towards Lieze. Drayya saw the throw coming from a mile away, stepping forward to catch the bottle by its neck before it could strike its mark.
“I suppose you must be proud.” He said, “Our beautiful dream of humanity has come to an end thanks to you. Now nothing remains of the Sovereign Cities but crumbling walls and tides of putrid flesh. But this is what you and your ilk desired all along, isn’t it?”
“Oh no… we’re not really about to listen to him going on like this, are we?” Drayya groaned, “Let’s just kill him and be done with it.”
“No…” Lieze breathed a sigh of relief as the worst of her agony began to cease, “I have questions that need answering.”
She took a step forward. Alistair’s expression was a mixture of fear and strange reverence.
“Look at you…” He held both hands out, “The ideal vessel. My alchemists would have frothed at their collective mouths if they’d been given the opportunity to study your physiology.”
“I’m sick to death of this ambiguous soothsaying.” Lieze said, “Vessel? Mercurial? You; and formerly Furainé and Helmach, clearly understand something that I don’t. So why not spill your guts metaphorically before I do it literally?”
Alistair smiled. It was a defeated, crooked line.
“No.” He replied, “I will not.”
“I already know the uses of Mercuria.” She continued, “Beneath your castle, I also found that quicksilver can be combined with it to create life. What was your goal? To create a panacea? To become the masters of creation and challenge the very Gods?”
“Ah… so that’s how you got in. Of course.” Alistair lowered his head, “You speak of it so aggressively, but you must know that alchemy is concerned with beauty first and foremost.”
“Those Artificial Scions… you think they’re beautiful?”
“I suppose you don’t think so yourself?” He replied, “-But I have you to thank for their creation, Lieze Sokalar.”