Sokalar’s mind was brimming with possibilities. In the time it would take to blink, he had already estimated the precise distance between himself and the location of his army near the southern gate. He explored routes of potential escape with all the ease of someone plotting a leisurely hike through the countryside.
When a flaw in his plan emerged, he discarded it. Through countless iterations, he would eventually settle on the most optimal solution. Theorise. Criticise. Destroy. Theorise. Criticise Destroy.
Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong.
Why couldn’t he fathom a solution? No matter the risk, his predictions ended in failure. After a careful summation of his own abilities in regards to the enemy, he couldn’t imagine a single scenario in which he escaped from that situation with his body intact - a factor he had not lowered himself to considering in well over two decades.
He couldn’t be trapped. He couldn’t. The mere thought was inconceivable.
His gaze caught the light of a stone in Lieze’s grasp. His mind refused to accept that it was truly his own Phylactery. It had to be a replica, or an illusion. Lieze had to be bluffing - there was no other way he could possibly retain his sanity. She couldn’t have found it.
“If I crush this, you won’t die immediately.” Lieze said, “-But it will prevent you from transferring your soul to another vessel. Or, to put it simply, you’ll be well and truly mortal.”
Sokalar’s mind sparked.
She wouldn’t destroy it. The Phylactery was too rare and powerful. That was his chance. If he could manipulate Lieze into keeping the artefact for herself, he could die without worry. She wouldn’t be able to take its power for herself in the two hours between his death and rebirth.
All he had to do was pick his words carefully.
[Mass Control Undead] Activated Remaining Heavenly Favours - 2
The Gravewalkers he’d raised in his moment of desperation following the battle were torn from his control. The horde separating himself and Lieze was under her command in an instant. Sokalar couldn’t help but be somewhat envious of Lieze’s extraordinary magical potential. He was right to have killed her - the girl was far too dangerous.
“I wouldn’t want you using any of these thralls for nefarious purposes.” She said, “I can put them to better use.”
“You are referring to the Ritual of Lichdom, are you not?” He replied, “I am impressed to hear that you know of it. You have certainly reached the level where such power is within your grasp.”
“If I killed you and became a Lich myself, there would be no contesting my place as the Order’s rightful successor.” Lieze continued, “Without your aid - and without the power of Lichdom - I have already brought Tonberg to its knees. Imagine what I would be capable of with an undying spirit.”
Lieze was power-hungry - a trait Sokalar could use to his advantage. It was a severe blow to his pride, but fueling the girl’s endless need for strength would ensure that the Phylactery would remain unharmed, granting Sokalar precious time to formulate a plan to eliminate her cult once and for all.
“A fine ambition.” He said, “I have always anticipated the emergence of your latent potential, Lieze. Do you understand now why I refused to abandon you? Even when your magical aptitude was supposedly proven to be abysmal, I did not cast you aside. Now the fruits of your labour have ripened, and you have every right to savour them.”
Each word was like a sword cleaving into his brain. Sokalar - simultaneously the greatest mind and most powerful necromancer of the era - lowering himself to praising a failed experiment of his own design. He had never been so humiliated in his life. It was an affront that Lieze would pay dearly for, once the opportunity to kill her appeared.
“Yes… you have kept me alive all this time, haven’t you?” Lieze’s expression became tender, “Truthfully, I’ve always hoped that the two of us could reconcile in one way or another. After all, you understand that I’ve always been seeking your approval, don’t you?”
“I do. And you have earned it.” Sokalar lied, “From the moment you exerted your will over the pitiful Graeme, I realised that you truly are my daughter. No other necromancer has taken to my ideals with such poignant discipline.”
Lieze lowered her head, “...Do you really mean that?”
“My goals have not wavered, even as we turned ourselves against one-another.” The Lich continued, “Together, we could lead the Order into an age of unrecorded greatness. No enemy - whether mortal or immortal - could stand in the way of our combined brilliance.”
He moved forward an inch, “Join me, my daughter, and the Gods themselves will tremble beneath our might.”
Silence gripped the plaza. Sokalar already knew that he had won. After all of her tribulations and victories, Lieze’s one desire was to receive the adoration of her father. He would use that vile aspect of her personality to reinstate himself as the Order’s uncontested leader, and make use of her newly-acquired power for his own means.
“Hm…” Lieze smirked, “Hhmhmhm…”
She chuckled. It was an unknown sound - one Sokalar had never heard. There was something despicable and unruly about it, like the buzzing of a stubborn fly. As the seconds ticked by, her amusement doubled. Then tripled. She was no longer chuckling, but laughing - a graceful, gleeful act of unsuppressed glee.
Stolen novel; please report.
Sokalar felt something. A sinking in his chest. There was nothing content about Lieze’s laughter. It was not a laugh shared between friends, or one enjoyed after a great victory. No - it was a cackle of pure mocking. The kind of laughter one could only experience in the presence of grand and pitiable stupidity.
Sokalar’s rotten heart boiled with rage. She was toying with him. Her innocence, her vulnerability, her pleading tone of voice - it was all a ruse with the sole intent of damaging his pride. A wicked ploy to accentuate his desperation.
And he fell for it, hook, line, and sinker. There was no ‘love’ remaining in Lieze’s heart - assuming any of it existed to begin with. Any goodwill Sokalar might have cultivated over the course of her life had disintegrated years ago. She laughed because the tables had finally turned.
“...’The Gods will tremble’, you say…” She spoke between silent fits of chuckling, “And all I have to do is sacrifice everything I’ve built here? What a victimless offer! I’d be a fool to refuse!”
“You damnable wretch…” Sokalar muttered, “Do you honestly believe that my Deathguards will accept your leadership unconditionally? Without me, the Order of Necromancers is nothing! I have spent decades ensuring that this belief has been branded onto their very souls!”
The horde of Gravewalkers parted as Lieze walked forward.
“You really are grasping at straws now, aren’t you?” She began, “Myself, Drayya, Lüngen - we three are living proof that your influence is worth less than the dirt under our heels. The Deathguards submit to you because they are convinced it is impossible to defy your power.”
“-And you will be any different?” He retorted.
“I will.” She assured, “-For my ambitions will not cease with the extermination of all life. To die and become servants of the Gods is not enough to attain enlightenment. I will not be satisfied until ‘suffering’ is brought to an end - and I have exactly the power I need to make this dream a reality.”
“You are no more a defier of the Gods than I.” Sokalar’s gaze remained stalwart, “You will fight, but you will fail, and fail spectacularly. And when your soul is condemned to eternal oblivion, you will understand that ambition is the most intoxicating folly of all.”
“That may be so.” The two necromancers came face-to-face. Lieze tightened her grip around the Phylactery, “-But I would rather die a martyr than live as a coward.”
When she allowed the Phylactery to fall from her hand, Sokalar was stricken with a pathetic need to drop to his knees and scramble for the treasure, knowing it could very well save his life. As soon as his skeletal knees buckled, however, his hopes were dashed in an instant as Lieze’s foot came down to crush the artefact, smashing its surface into thousands of incandescent pieces.
“You worm!” Sokalar lost his temper - or, what remained of it, “My life’s work - ruined in an instant! Do you have any idea of the effort that went into that item’s creation!? You will never see another phylactery for as long as you walk this cursed plane!”
He reached for his focus - which had been dropped in a hasty bid to save the artefact - fully intent on ending Lieze’s life with the most powerful spell he could muster. The few seconds it took for him to be overwhelmed with Gravewalkers, however, quickly put that dream to rest. For the first time in his life, he was helpless.
“You will never succeed!” Even when confronted with death, his voice remained defiant, “You were given life by my hands, and yet you disappointed me at every turn! Only the Gods could have fashioned a fate so tragic! For as long as my spirit lingers, I will-”
Lieze’s MP - 1,035 / 1,735
A single [Blood Spike] shattered Sokalar’s exposed skull, sending fragments of bone flying in every direction.
Sokalar’s HP - 0 / 577
Quest “Daughter of Death” Complete! Reward - 10,000xp
Level Up! You are now level [41] HP+0 MP+55 MIND + 1
Silence reigned.
Lieze blinked. She couldn’t be certain that the sight before her eyes was anything short of a cruel illusion. Sokalar’s headless, skeletonised vessel thumped against the ground as if to illustrate his death with a full stop. Seconds later, the Gravewalkers were peeling what few shanks of flesh remained from his bones.
Drayya didn’t say a word. She had been more than content to sit by and watch the scene unfold, knowing full-well Lieze couldn’t possibly have fumbled the opportunity to kill her father. Even so, she couldn’t believe it herself. Her former master had been reduced to the same, pitiable state as everyone else who had stood in Lieze’s way.
“...It’s done.” She said, “I’m free.”
Her tone was so unbelievably disappointed.
“You really killed him…” Drayya muttered, “I can’t believe it.”
Dead. Not half-dead, or three-quarters dead - dead. Without the phylactery, Sokalar’s spirit would suffer the same fate as any other. His lack of a head also disqualified him from the miracle of resurrection. There was no chance of him ever returning to the world of the living.
Lieze leaned down to retrieve the Lich’s staff.
“This is all the evidence I’ll ever need.” She said, “The Order won’t be able to deny it.”
Their work wasn’t over - not even for the day. Drayya swallowed the last of her surprise down.
“Shall we head back to the castle?” She asked.
Lieze shook her head, “We’ll catch up with the Order’s remnants first.”
“What if they kill us?” She asked.
“They won’t.” She insisted, “I know they won’t. Especially not when they see this focus.”
She wandered towards the gate, and Drayya followed close behind. The Gravewalkers abandoned Sokalar’s corpse as they did with any other once a certain amount of distance had been placed between themselves and their master, shambling after the two with thoughtless obedience.
“We’ll round the outer walls. It’ll be quicker that way.” Lieze said, “I won’t approach them on the Manticore in case they mistake it for an attack.”
“Are you alright, Lieze?”
The question was blurted out without any thought, but it was enough to make the girl stop in her tracks. Lieze turned to Drayya with the same, emotionless expression she always wore.
“Yes.” She answered, “I’ve never felt better.”