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114 - Masters of Creation

“What are you going on about?” She sighed.

“The Mercuria… it’s been known by many names over the course of history.” Alistair continued, “-But it has always remained just beyond the grasp of we mortals. Yes… for how can a mortal ever hope to shed the blood of a mighty God?”

“Hm.” Lieze crossed her arms, “Unless we could find a way to replicate it artificially.”

“-So you do understand!” Alistair grinned. His teeth were grimy and yellow, “That’s right… Helmach was chosen by the Blackbriar, but he resisted its gift. No matter how soothingly Furainé laid her hands upon him, there could be no convincing him to put his [Heavenly Favour] to practical use.”

Lieze thought back to her encounters with Helmach. Despite his status as the Scion of necromancy, he never made use of [Supreme Regeneration].

She crossed her arms, “So you were using Helmach all along?”

“He was perfectly gullible.” Alistair raised his palm, “I recall the day of his arrival. He and two other runts from his husk of a village in the countryside were following in the wake of our knights like prisoners of war.”

His expression fell, “The Dragon Priest saw something in him. He was groomed to become a Dragon Cardinal, and for a time, he filled those boots well. It was around then when he became the Blackbriar’s chosen.”

“Let’s not tarry with this history lesson.” Drayya interrupted, “We already know what happened next. My father led a crusade against the Sovereign Cities, and Helmach was exiled from the Church when he called upon the Blackbriar’s power.”

“My… the two of you are more well-informed than I expected.” Alistair replied, “Indeed. He became a eunuch. But faith continued to smoulder in his heart. Shortly after he joined and overtook the Acolytes of Reunification, Furainé and I revealed ourselves to him as Scions, and the three of us became involved in a plot that would eclipse the pitiful conflicts of man.”

Lieze closed her eyes to distract from the heat of the roaring flames, “...You needed Helmach to acquire Mercuria. [Supreme Regeneration] replaces one’s flesh with that of a God. Therefore, the Scion of necromancy was crucial to your plans.”

Alistair didn’t react. He was resigned and void of surprise, “-But as you know, he was a stubborn man. We couldn’t coax a drop of Mercuria out from him. He refused to have even one inch of his body replaced with the Blackbriar’s profane thorns.”

“But I’m different.” Lieze said.

“Oh, yes. You may have thought yourself our destructor, Lieze Sokalar, but in reality, you were our saviour.” He paused, “Your many encounters with my forces allowed for a plethora of opportunities to gather samples of your blood.”

Drayya stepped forward to block Lieze’s vision.

“There’s nothing worthwhile we can learn from this old fool.” She said, “He’s just trying to buy time. We already know what he’s about to say - that your blood was used to create those horrific abominations prowling the skies. What else do we need to know?”

“There is one thing.” Lieze replied, poking her head over the girl’s shoulder, “Alistair - what is the Light in Chains?”

“Wha- oh…” A look of profound shock overcame Alistair’s wrinkled features before he descended into a fit of maddening laughter. Between bouts of spluttering giggles, Lieze could hear the titanic footsteps of the Flesh Golem descending towards the city.

“Oh, Furainé…” Alistair spoke between chuckles, “What a fool you were…”

“Come on. Out with it.” Lieze demanded, “I still need to defeat an army of undead and kill a Lich before the day is out.”

“It matters not.” He replied, “The dream is over.”

“That’s very helpful.” She nodded her head, “Is it too much to ask for one person to speak in plain, unambiguous terms for once? I’m surprised you people can get anything done with how secretive you are about everything.”

“I’m pleased to hear that I’m not the only one with no idea of what’s going on.” Drayya joined, “I think the world would be a much simpler place if we could all be a little more honest with one-another.”

The continuous veiling of the truth was beginning to frustrate Lieze. There was something deeper stirring in the conflict for Tonberg - deeper than alchemic melding of the flesh or selfish sovereignty. She wasn’t about to let the one person who could answer her questions perish so easily.

“...Fine.” Lieze reached into her Bag of Holding and pulled out her hellish focus before pacing towards Alistair, “We’ll do it the hard way.”

The former king didn’t have time to protest before she clutched the staff with both hands and swung it under his chin. The croak of iron against skin - as well as a few worrying crunches - were the last sounds Alistair heard before falling unconscious.

Lieze knelt down to lift the man’s emaciated left hand, turning it over to spot a sapphire gemstone embedded in his palm. She drew her dagger and wasted no time carving the treasure from its prison, fishing the gem out from a puddle of blood forming in Alistair’s wounded hand once the deed was complete.

“We’re really going to capture him?” Drayya didn’t sound the least bit pleased by the idea, “He’ll be trouble once he recovers some of his mana.”

“Dealing with that problem will be your responsibility.” Lieze didn’t take her eyes off the gemstone, lifting it towards the sky to admire its lustre, “Do whatever you like. Cut off his hands if you need to, but make sure to keep him alive.”

Lifting her blackened hand, Lieze allowed the gem to sink into her tendril-infested scale. A surge of power crept through her muscles as Alistair’s powers became her own to wield.

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Scion [Alistair Awldwin] Incorporated Current Scion Level - 4

Heavenly Favour Learned - [Magical Enhancement]

WARNING! ABILITIES LOST: [Heavenly Favour - Magical Enhancement]

Heavenly Favour Learned - [Mass Control Undead]

Quest ‘Power Everlasting’ Complete! Reward - 2,000xp

“It’s done.” Lieze stood up, “Let’s gather up any remaining thralls here and make our way into the castle. I want to find out how much manpower we’re working with after that battle.”

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The Flesh Golem’s arm swept through an entire street, turning homes into shells of rubble and tearing apart any thralls foolish enough to find themselves in its path. The magical projectiles of Dark Casters filled the midnight air like fireworks, pelting the Golem’s mountainous flesh with needles of sorcery.

Sokalar and Lüngen observed the chaos from afar, where smoke could be seen rising from the castle’s distant remains. The Lich’s army had the advantage in numbers, but there was no telling how much more punishment the Golem could take.

Lüngen was stuffing a sprig of Dwarven tobacco into a pipe he’d brought out from his baggy pockets. It was rare to see the man smoking at all - a habit manifested and maintained by extraordinary stress. Sokalar turned a blind eye to the man’s indignant use of evocation magic as he conjured a small flame at the tip of his index finger to light the potent leaves.

“The most efficient strategy would involve making use of the city’s ballistae.” Sokalar said, “However, the Deathguards are in no state to be repositioned. The Golem has scattered our thralls across the southern district. Spending the time to gather them would only guarantee further casualties.”

Lüngen stuffed the pipe between his molars and stowed his tin of tobacco back into his pocket, “I’ve no doubt you could make short work of this Golem, Ignas. If I recall, a number of Deathguards were tactful enough to bring mana potions along with them, so there’s no need to worry about conserving your strength.”

“Mana is not my concern.” The Lich replied, “The most powerful of my gifts are limited in their usage. The superiority of my spellcraft far outweighs the effectiveness of our army. If sacrifices need to be made in order to guarantee this foe’s defeat, then I would gladly lose a number of Deathguards.”

It wasn’t an argument that could be contested. On the day of the attack in the eastern district, he had witnessed for himself the level of destruction his master was capable of. The matter of Drayya’s continued survival, he could tell, was also eating at the Lich’s skull. Who else could have summoned such a creature?

“The Golem is slow and simple to outmanoeuvre.” Sokalar cracked his skeletal head towards Lüngen, “Head a detachment of Deathguards and march on the castle, Lüngen. While the angels are distracted, Alistair’s fortress is unguarded. In the meantime, I will see to the Golem’s demise.”

He gave his pipe a quick puff before replying, “...Do you believe Drayya has already reached the castle?”

“Do not waste my time with questions.” Sokalar said, “Go.”

Lüngen knew not to speak another word. The Lich respected his presence, but he had a reputation to maintain as the Order’s ruthless commander. He had already expended his pool of graciousness for the day by not killing Lüngen on the spot for failing to eliminate the remnants of Lieze’s cult.

His mission was unspoken, but clear: find Drayya and kill her. It was to be the ultimate test of his loyalty. He had seen the girl evolve from a petulant toddler to one of the Order’s most talented and ambitious necromancers. Unfortunately, that ambition had steered her towards a path of betrayal. It was the Order’s way to deal with such individuals swiftly and without mercy.

The tobacco did little to calm Lüngen’s nerves as he parted from Sokalar’s side.

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Those who were lucky enough to survive Alistair’s infernal sorcery had been ushered into the destroyed throne room to lick their wounds. A plethora of balms and roborants had been brought along from the arcade to deal with any eventualities, but there was only so much that could be done to quell the agony fire could inflict.

Marché covered his face with both hands as Lieze and Drayya marched into the roofless chamber with the unconscious Alistair in tow.

“Please don’t tell me he’s still alive.” The rust-haired boy pleaded.

“He is. And he’ll stay that way until Lieze demands otherwise.” Drayya allowed the priest’s body to crumple to the floor, “Better find a cell for him. There’s an entire prison downstairs, so take your time.”

While the two of them exchanged pleasantries, Lieze examined the remnants of her forces. There were only enough thralls remaining to make the throne room ever-so-slightly overcrowded - perhaps 200 in total.

“We had over 300 when we left the arcade…” She muttered, “We’d better hope that the Flesh Golem thins Sokalar’s ranks somewhat, or we won’t stand a chance.”

Making the most of her remaining time, she examined the effects of her newest ability.

Ability - Heavenly Favour (Mass Control Undead) Description - Take control of a number of thralls equal to 5x your level within 1km of your current position. These thralls do not contribute to your maximum thrall capacity and do not need to be loyal to you beforehand. This effect lasts for 30 minutes.

“This one was overwritten by the Blackbriar too…” She spoke to herself, “It’s incredibly useful, but what price am I paying for making use of it?”

Lieze’s gaze travelled from her palm to her elbow. There wasn’t a hint of her pale skin left after weathering Alistair’s attack. Through the perforations in her robe, she could see the extent of the Blackbriar’s influence on her body. A shiver of disgust tingled her spine when she considered the state of her face.

“Even my innards aren’t my own anymore…” She thought, “I can’t move my tongue without pricking myself on these damnable thorns…”

She’d triumphed over death on more than one occasion, but at what cost? If there were any risks associated with her reckless use of [Supreme Regeneration], then she had no doubt already passed the point of no return.