Over the next few days, Lieze rationed her supply of MP to avoid an accidental [Mana Burnout] as she filled the ranks of her army with Skeletal Necromancers. All the while, those she had sent off to Tonberg’s neighbouring cities were returning with droves of undead in tow. Thanks to the addition of those new commanders, the only limiting factor of Lieze’s army was how many corpses she could source - something that wouldn’t become a problem unless she had a catastrophic lapse in judgement and lost most of her thralls in battle.
The rapid automation of her recruitment process gave the girl some much-needed time to delve into her research regarding the Scions. Lüngen had also concluded his documentation on the Dwarven Mountains and their defensive capabilities, which gave her plenty of material to sift through.
“The leading theory is that the Sages abandoned their mortal bodies to attain immortal, spiritual forms.” She didn’t bother keeping her voice down in the sanctity of her interdimensional space, “It’s not dissimilar to the natural conclusion of the Order’s beliefs. But the Sages were no necromancers… did they believe that they would be granted an audience with the Gods if they abandoned the material plane?”
More importantly, how did they relate to the Scions? Lieze had already established that the Gods forced their Scions into a sort of celestial tournament to decide the victor, but what greater implications did that proxy war suggest? Suddenly intrigued, she delved into the historical records of the most likely past victors.
Although there was no saying for certain which heroes of the past had been chosen as Scions, the greatest among them, especially in ancient times, allegedly owed their victories to a certain inexplicable ‘divine power’ which granted them potential far in excess of the average mortal. Lieze didn’t have to do any theorising as to why that may have been the case.
The truly interesting accounts were of the resultant prosperity - or calamity - that followed in the wake of such heroes. Those who claimed themselves to be adherents of the Gildwyrm, for instance, would always lead their people and communities into golden ages of wealth and prosperity. Acolytes of the God of Many Faces ushered in ages of untold beauty characterised by masterful artists and aesthetic miracles.
Then there were the darker eras - those marked by the rise of the Blackbriar’s Scions, of which there were few records to analyse. What little evidence Lieze could dredge up from the depths of Tonberg’s libraries spoke of untold misery and disease. Entire countries built upon the bones of the downtrodden would collapse in horrid, continuous waves of famine and conflict, as if cursed from the moment of their creation to end in nothing short of tragedy.
There was a pattern to be found there, in the ebb and flow of ancient history. Patterns marked by the rise of those who had most likely been Scions themselves. Whichever adherent of the Gods emerged victorious seemed to invite their deity’s influence into the world, shaping it for the better or worse. Then, when a new wave of Scions appeared, another victor would be decided, and the cycle would repeat itself.
“Is this it…?” Lieze wondered, “This ‘contest’ of divinity… is it all a scramble for power? A method by which the Gods exert their control over this world?”
Her working theory was based on conjecture. There was too much missing information to say that it was the definitive answer, but if anything, she was almost certainly on the right track.
“...Hah.” Lieze sank into her chair, “I’d better think about this before I go making any rash conclusions. Maybe I’ll take a break…”
A single thought was all that was needed to evacuate her from the riftborne bowels of her Portable Home. Her study had grown dark in the time she’d been gone. A quick look out of the room’s only window told her that the sun was well on its way to setting.
The castle’s bathing area was, surprisingly, not much more sophisticated than that of the average inn. The Flesh Golem’s rampage through the structure had thankfully left most of the right wing - where the washroom was located - completely untouched. Lieze was quite surprised to find that Tonberg’s royal family was just as comfortable with bathing in a wooden tub as any commoner. She had expected gilded bathtubs and regal ceramic floors, but the reality was almost disappointing.
Not that it bothered her in the slightest. She found as much pleasure in bathing as she did sleeping and conversing - which is to say, not much at all. But there was a thought at the back of her mind that made her bath that night a little more important than usual.
As she lounged in the tub, she examined the tiny glass vial Lüngen had offered her a few days ago. By his own account, it would remove most of the profane Godflesh that had taken over her body when mixed with water. There was absolutely no reason for her to consider the possibility of constricting her supply of precious Mercuria. But even so…
“...Hah.” She found herself yanking out the vial’s cork, “What am I doing…”
The clear solution mixed perfectly with the water as she poured the contents of the vial into the tub. Whether her skin was simply having a bad reaction or not, she recoiled as every inch of her body below the waterline was suddenly assailed with a burning sensation. It felt like her bath had taken a turn for the acidic.
“Damn it, Lüngen…” She grimaced, “You better have been exaggerating about that ‘skin falling off’ part…”
Rather than eating her alive, however, the water only seemed to be interested in the grafts of blackened flesh clinging to her skin like some kind of parasite. Her regenerated tissue began to peel off like a scab having overstayed its welcome, quickly turning the crystal-clear bath into a muddy pool of sloughed Godflesh.
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Lieze raised her arm above the water and found it remarkably unblemished. The softness of her bare flesh gave her pause - she had grown so accustomed to her spines and thorns that a return to form felt almost alien. Sighing, she sank her head below the surface, forced to re-emerge a second later as her face began to burn.
She had the forethought to close her eyes, knowing full-well she’d go blind if the solution was allowed to touch her replaced eyeballs. She winced in pain while shovelling away the barky skin on her cheeks and neck, revealing a few newfound scars on her features hidden beneath the Godflesh. For the first time in a while, her lips weren’t constantly impaling one-another with thorns, and she no longer had to worry about the inside of her mouth feeling like she’d just swallowed a tumbleweed.
It was strange. She felt comfortable. More like herself. The water - no matter how muddy it had become - felt pleasant against her bare skin. The pain of those thorns was still apparent in some unavoidable places, namely her eye sockets, which still burned with agony as the little balls of spikes replacing her eyeballs continued to scrape against the inside of her head.
But the worst of it was gone, and she found herself remarkably thankful for that. She never realised how much the constant pain was contributing to her high-strung nature. For the first time since conquering Tonberg, she could focus on something other than her duties.
“And I told Lüngen I wasn’t going to use it…” She muttered, “I’ll need to find some other method of harvesting Mercuria now…”
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Feeling refreshed, Lieze tiptoed back through the castle halls, feeling the cool wind blowing in from the exposed ceiling as she retreated to her study and grabbed the Portable Home from her desk, focusing on the artefact until her worldly form was sucked through a gap between time and space into the cube’s magical chamber.
Drayya was so shocked by the girl’s sudden appearance that she ended up knocking over the chair she was sitting on, landing on her back as sheets of paper were sent flying into the air. Lieze was more concerned about her research becoming disorganised than she was about Drayya’s sudden and unlawful entry into what was supposed to be her private room.
“I never said you could come in here.” She stated simply, “It’s inappropriate to be rifling through someone’s belongings, even if they are an ally.”
“Don’t lecture me on what’s inappropriate and what’s not!” Remaining on the floor, raising her head to see the world upside-down, Drayya pointed an accusatory finger towards Lieze, “Put some clothes on, you damn harlot!”
“I was just about to get changed.” She replied, “Forgive me for expecting my own room to be unoccupied.”
Lieze's body was wrapped in a towel she’d pilfered from the washroom. Her robes were slung over one arm. She’d become so accustomed to the privacy of the castle that the thought of returning to her room before getting changed was perfectly reasonable. But as per usual, she was foolish to assume that anything could ever be so simple.
“What were you doing in here, anyway?” She sighed, “I don’t have a problem with you looking through my notes, but at least have the decency to ask beforehand.”
“I just wanted to have a look at what you were up to.” Drayya stood up and dusted off her robe, “-And now that I have, I can say with complete certainty that I’m glad not to be in your shoes. All this poetry and history isn’t really my cup of tea.”
“There’s still plenty to be done, so I’d like some privacy for the rest of the night.”
“I’ll be on my way, then.” She raised her head, “But don’t use all this as an excuse to lock yourself up in here for… days.”
Drayya blinked. As she locked eyes with Lieze, she couldn’t help but take note of the fact that the girl’s skin was surprisingly pearlescent all of a sudden. There wasn’t an inch of exposed Godflesh tainting her body - at least as far as Drayya could see. What’s more, her face was free of the blemishes and welts of battle, replaced with a few measly scars.
“...What are you staring at?” Lieze asked.
“Your skin!” She exclaimed, “You used Lüngen’s ointment!”
“Oh…” Lieze gave herself a once-over, “Yes, I suppose I did.”
She took a step back as Drayya pounced forward and took the girl’s hands in her own. A bright smile that didn’t suit her in the least was burning into her features like a sunbeam.
“Do you feel better now?” She asked excitedly.
“Better?” Lieze repeated, “I wouldn’t put it that way.”
“But it doesn’t hurt anymore, does it?” Her expression flattened out, “Oh… apart from your eyes. I suppose there’s no getting those back, is there?”
“You sound surprised…” Lieze said, “Weren’t you the one who asked Lüngen to make the ointment?”
“Eh?” Drayya paused, “...No? Why would I do that?”
“It didn’t sound like a lie.” She replied, “More to the point, why would he lie about it?”
“D-Does it really matter?” Drayya attempted to dismiss the topic.
“You didn’t want to give it to me?” Lieze tilted her head.
The raven-haired girl lowered her head.
“...Because, if it wasn’t for that horrible flesh growing on you, we’d have no way of gathering Mercuria. Right?” She asked, “I already talked you out of becoming a Lich. Now I’m demanding that you give up something else just to be a little more comfortable.”
“I’ll find another way to gather Mercuria.” Lieze replied, “I already have more than I need right now, anyway, and driving a knife into my own body just to replenish the supply wasn’t the most enjoyable experience.”
“...That’s not the kind of thing you would have said before.” She muttered.
“Well, whose fault is that?” Lieze asked, “Now, if you’ll take your hands off me for two seconds, I’d like to get changed.”
Realising the extent of her own enthusiasm, Drayya averted her eyes while taking a few steps back, her cheeks stained with the beginnings of an innocent blush.
“Sorry.” She said, “I’ll make myself scarce.”
“Thank you, Drayya.”
“Wha-”
Before she could respond, her desire to leave the Portable Room took hold, and she was suddenly standing in the darkness of Lieze’s study. Those parting words repeated in her mind - so utterly unlike Lieze to say, but all the more impactful for it.