Under threat of being reported to the priesthood, Alma had no power to resist Lieze’s demands. Her aggressive approach to recruiting the girl had worked wonders. Not only did she have an impenetrable bargaining chip, but Alma herself was so swept up by her words as to offer not a word of complaint when she was escorted beyond the city gates. She fidgeted with her hands impatiently as the two of them wandered off the main road towards the nearby hills, hesitant to mutter a single word.

“...I’m also a necromancer, Alma.” Lieze revealed.

“Miss Lieze… you too?” She was put somewhat at ease by her words, “I was so afraid. I thought you were about to hand me over to the priesthood.”

“I’m still very capable of doing that.” Lieze warned, “You’re too rare of a find for me to simply cut you loose. How many necromancers do you suppose there are in Tonberg? Do you know any besides yourself?”

“No.” She answered honestly, “I’m not certain. Ever since the Order began attacking the Sovereign Cities, more and more necromancers have been smoked out of hiding.”

“That won’t do.” Lieze shook her head, “No. Not at all.”

“Are… you from the Order, Miss Lieze?”

“I’m Sokalar’s daughter.” She answered.

“Sokalar!? The Lich!?” Alma nearly stopped dead in her tracks, “That… that’s incredible! You must be incredibly talented!”

Lieze fell silent for a moment.

“I can’t deny that… if I’m going to rally what few necromancers there are left in Tonberg, I’ll need to play the part of a master. At least until my powers grow stronger.”

“N… naturally.” It was the biggest lie she had ever told, “I was separated from the Order during the siege, and now I plan to soften the city’s defences before my father returns to finish his work.”

“So… that joke you made earlier about your mother being a corpse-”

“It was no joke.” She finished, “The chambers beneath our hideout are stocked with the honoured dead. Humans from an ancient time. Whether necromancer or plain commoners, they represent the beautiful sanctity of death and the freedom it grants. Using necromantic alchemy, my father revived the cells of those long-forgotten corpses. I was the final result of his experimentation--the daughter of a dead woman.”

“Ancient humans had white hair?”

“Evidently.” She summarised, “You seem to have calmed down quite a bit.”

“W-Well… now that I know I’m not headed for the gallows…”

“That’s a good attitude to have.” She complimented, “If you want to practise necromancy freely, you need to exploit every opportunity to escape from your pursuers--whether that’s making false promises or learning to overwhelm them with your words.”

“...Do things really have to be so black and white?” Alma questioned, “Can’t the Order and the Sovereign Cities come to some sort of arrangement?”

“It would be a fantastic waste of time if we ever tried. Between the royalists, the priesthood and the commoners, how do you suppose such an arrangement would work? It simply isn’t possible to please everybody, and so we have no other choice but to dominate our enemies. War has always existed for that exact purpose. Nobles and Kings will always excuse themselves with ambitions of valour or freedom. They do so not to inspire others to a greater purpose, but to exert their influence over the masses.”

“And… a world controlled by necromancers would be free from that?”

“No.” Lieze concluded, “We cannot alleviate the natural suffering of life. We can only free ourselves from mortality and attain enlightenment as transcendent spirits. Whether to seek absolution, or to become one with the Gods themselves.”

Alma couldn’t be certain of anything besides Lieze’s utter devotion to the Order’s ideals. As the two marched on in silence, it wasn’t long before the Kobold cave was in sight. The clinking of steel against stone corrupted the serene countryside air, perpetuated by a small team of Dwarves who had begun setting Lieze’s plans in motion.

“We’ll have a proper entrance to this hideout soon enough.” She remarked, “Until then, try not to crack your skull open while descending the rope.”

“What is this?” Alma wondered.

“A temporary holdout.” Lieze answered, “Don’t tell me you’ve been practising necromancy inside your own home this entire time?”

“Well…” She averted her eyes.

Accompanying her would-be accuser down the precarious rope, Alma couldn’t help but recoil at the sight of blood openly staining the cavern walls. The groans of Godless thralls filled the cavern with an echoing chorus.

“How is your aptitude?”

“...Excuse me?” Alma blinked.

“For sorcery, I mean.” Lieze clarified, “How many thralls could you raise in a day?”

“I-I don’t know.” She answered honestly, “I’ve only ever worked with small creatures. Rodents, and things like that.”

“Let’s test your talents, then.”

Closing her eyes in concentration, Lieze communed with one of her thralls’ residual energies, commanding it to approach her location. Alma’s hands rose to cover her mouth as a freshly-decomposing corpse covered neck-to-toe in bloodstained brigandine plate.

“Friedrick. He’ll do nicely for a demonstration.” She remarked, marching to the thrall’s side, “Gravewalkers are durable, but terribly slow. You’ll eventually notice that this is a running theme with the undead, barring a few exceptional cases. They’re practically invulnerable to nonmagical arms so long as their brains aren’t damaged.”

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

“I take it this is… a victim of yours?”

“I wouldn’t go as far as that in humanising them.” Lieze warned, “Once the soul has departed from the body, all that remains is a thrall. They live and die by our grace. Treat them as they are intended to be treated--as tools of the Blackbriar’s will.”

“...I’m not sure about this.”

“You’re apprehensive to begin the journey. I understand that.” Returning to the girl’s side, Lieze offered words of encouragement, “But you’ve already taken the first step, and you understand the beauty of the craft. All you need is a final push. Here--give me your hand.”

Alma didn’t attempt to reject Lieze’s touch. Taking hold of her wrist, she guided it towards the shambling corpse, before gently unfurling her fingers.

“Now, close your eyes and open your mind to the Blackbriar’s influence.” She encouraged, “I’ll loosen my hold over the Deathwalker so that you can take control of it. Don’t worry about the visions--the stronger they are, the more suited you’ve always been to the role.”

Alma wasn’t unfamiliar with the visions, but they always made her question if her dark interests were worth pursuing. There was no hiding the Blackbriar’s incessant desire to spread undeath across the Free Kingdoms. She had always thought of it as wholly evil. Antithetical to the proud image of the Golden Dragon.

But Lieze had spoken of it in a different light. She declared that the simple act of living was suffering, and that the pursuit of death was a means of allowing people to pursue true enlightenment with their souls free from the mortal coil. Deep inside, she had always longed to hear such words. As she closed her eyes, Alma no longer attempted to resist the Blackbriar’s influence, allowing it to infest her mind completely.

As the girl broke into minor spasms, Lieze felt her control over the Deathwalker diminishing. It wasn’t uncommon for necromancers to exchange thralls in such a way, whether to bolster weakened ranks or as an act of deference to one’s senior--something Drayya had attempted to force upon her many a time, to mixed results.

When her control was relinquished to Alma, the girl nearly dropped to the floor. Her breathing had become laboured, and her mind disoriented. She had never experienced such wild and vibrant visions before.

Alma Blanc Level 3 Necromancer HP: 51 / 51 MP: 0 / 70

“Hm. Not bad.” Lieze commented, “Your skill is passable for now. We’ll have to focus on refining it in the coming days.”

“She’s quite terrible… is it even possible for her to improve?” Imagining that unlikely scenario in her head, Lieze suppressed a frown, “Well, having a servant is useful for more than simple necromancy.”

“Hah… hah…” Alma caught her breath, “I feel… rather weak.”

“That sounds like mana burnout to me.” She replied, “You’ll have recovered by this time tomorrow, but until then, you won’t be able to cast any spells.”

“As expected of the Lich’s daughter…” She remarked, rising from the ground, “You’re incredibly knowledgeable about this.”

“I do hope your circumstances have been made rather clear by this point.” Lieze began, “If Tonberg is to be weakened before the Order returns, I will require more than myself. Whether it pleases you or not, I’ll be making use of your talents for my own ends--unless you would prefer I made good on my threat to turn you into the priesthood?”

Her matter-of-fact speech almost teased a smile out of the nun, “...Are all necromancers like you?”

“They are.” She confirmed, “-And you’ll understand why that is, in time. In order to satisfy my demands, you will need to cast aside any stray ideals of morality or justice. Ruthlessness is a skill you’ll spend many a night cultivating from now on. If you don’t, you’ll find yourself discovered in no time. And don’t expect me to risk my ambition rescuing you from some dingy jail in the city if you end up getting yourself arrested.”

Her words were vicious, but Alma knew better than most that necromancers were willing to do anything to avoid punishment. To have been raised in the heart of the Deadlands--and by the Order’s leader, no less--it came as no surprise to her that Lieze didn’t bother coating her words.

“...It doesn’t seem like I’m being given much of a choice in the matter.” She concluded.

“No. And I won’t be affording the courtesy to any other necromancers hiding themselves away in Tonberg, either. I’ll yank them out by their roots if need be.” Lieze proclaimed, “They’ll follow my father when he arrives. Whether to save their own hides or not.”

“What a farce…” Alma sighed, “But… I have to admit that it is rather nice finally being able to speak with another necromancer. Especially one of your prestige, Lieze. I may not understand your ideals yet, but… I can tell that your conviction is the real thing. It’s more authentic than most of the priests I’ve met.”

“Right. Enough with the flattery.” She dismissed, “I’d like to keep this introduction short. We have a lot of work to do.”

“You aren’t going to ask me to pledge my allegiance to the Order or anything like that?”

“I don’t need your word. Prove yourself a useful tool, and the secrets of necromancy will be your reward. That’s what you desire, isn’t it? Or is your interest merely some sick hobby?”

“No!” She exclaimed, offended, “...I want to understand those who practise necromancy, but there’s only so much I’ve been able to learn. I still feel like a novice… someone who doesn’t truly comprehend the art. But, at the same time, I also feel like allying myself with someone like you… makes me an evil person.”

“This is fantastic. She’s like a newborn chick--imprinting on everything she senses.” Lieze thought, “In due time, she may even be someone I’ll be able to trust…”

“Don’t ever allow yourself to forget the Order’s way.” She warned, “Those who live are cursed with suffering. Poverty, sickness, pride, wrath… the charismatic and uplifted would gleefully send thousands of men to their deaths if it would guarantee another day of their so-called ‘peace’. We are given no choice but to answer violence with violence, but unlike those who would call themselves ‘just’, we will always welcome acolytes who devote themselves to the Blackbriar, be they former enemies or poorly commoners.”

Alma lowered her head and clasped one hand in another, “...Then, what would you have me do?”

“The most important thing is not to draw attention. Pointlessly raising thralls will only get us discovered when we aren’t prepared to defend ourselves.” Lieze explained, “Gather information. I’ve already made efforts to ally myself with Baccharum Silas, who has agreed to send his would-be assassins our way to provide us with a steady supply of corpses. The Dwarves outside also work for him.”

“What about my duties as a nun?”

“How well-known are you among the priesthood?”

“That’s a difficult question to answer… I’ve been with the Church for almost 10 years now.”

“Continue to maintain a good relationship with the faith. It will be an indispensable tool for information gathering. Just look at how easy it was to threaten you into joining me--the same strategy would work on any other necromancer.”

“I-I don’t appreciate being used as an example…”

“If you suspect someone of being a necromancer, report them to me immediately.” Lieze demanded, “I can tell at a glance whether they practise the art or not.”

“How impressive…” Alma blinked, “But… surely this old cave can’t last forever?”

“It’s temporary. Leave finding a better hideout to me.” She assured, stepping forward and placing both hands on the girl’s shoulders, “I’m placing my faith in you, Alma. You’ll understand soon that a necromancer’s trust doesn’t come easily.”

“R-Right…” She answered, “Of course…”