“My lady!” One of the cultists exclaimed, “Are you alright!?”
“Hm?” Wincing from the phantom pain, Lieze turned her attention to the wide-eyed subordinates who had just watched the girl saw her own arm off, “Yes? If you have time to gawk, then prepare yourselves to move towards Drayya’s position. We need to reach her before Furainé does.”
“But… your arm…”
“Don’t waste my time with pointless fretting!”
“R-Right! Of course…”
The cultists separated, tending to their own flocks of undead while Lieze recovered her Bag of Holding, reaching in to retrieve the severed arm, still slick with Mercuria.
“The human body has around 5 litres of blood… but does the Mercuria count towards that amount, or is it something different entirely?” She wondered, “In any case, I seem to have collected about a litre’s worth of it… I just hope it was worth the trouble.”
Interested in seeing what effects the Mercuria could have on her spells, she willed her scale to display the information of her [Greater Necromancy] ability.
Feature - Greater Necromancy (lvl. 2) Description - Use 45MP to reanimate a creature of level 40 or below. The creature’s level as an undead thrall equals 1.75x its original level, rounded down. You can maintain a number of thralls equal to 2.5x your level, rounded down. Mercurial Enhancement - This spell can now be used on a living creature. In order for it to succeed, the creature’s HP must be equal to or less than half of its maximum value.
“Transforming the living into thralls… it sounds useless, but it fixes the problem of having to actually kill higher-level enemies…” Lieze muttered, “I still have to be close enough to touch them, so it’s a risky manoeuvre…”
She wanted to see another.
Technique - Blood Spike Description - Manipulate a nearby source of blood (within 3m), transforming it into a spike and launching it at a target of your choosing. Both the damage dealt and MP requirement are dependent on the amount of blood used. 1 Litre of blood will deal [50] HP damage to an unarmoured target and cost an equivalent amount of MP. Mercurial Enhancement - When enhanced, the damage and size of your next blood spike is quintupled. Additionally, the attack will pierce through physical and magical protection.
“Quintupled!?”
With a [Blood Spike] that large, she could destroy entire buildings. The asking price of Mercuria (300ml) was steep, but it was well worth it for the destructive potential alone. Lieze was beginning to salivate.
“One more…” The sides of her mouth curled up.
Technique - Corpse Explosion Description - Spend 3x a targeted thrall’s level in MP, causing its body to instantly rupture. Anyone caught in the explosion’s radius is dealt HP damage equal to 8x the thrall’s level. The explosion radius increases proportionally to a thrall’s size. No matter how much HP the targeted thrall has, its HP is instantly reduced to 0. Mercurial Enhancement - When enhanced, a corpse’s level is considered to be 5x its original level for the purposes of calculating yield and damage.
“Goodness gracious… the things I could accomplish with this…”
A plan was already hatching in her mind. But before that, she still had the matter of Drayya’s safety to attend to. Furainé was most likely spreading through the alleyways on the opposite side of the street searching for her group.
“We’re moving out!” Lieze declared to the cultists, “Follow my every command! This is going to be a delicate operation, so I want all of you at your best!”
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Furainé Morgan had received nothing but complaints since she was granted authority over a generous portion of the city’s army. As it turned out, soldiers weren’t particularly fond of using their own city as a battleground. She and her subordinates had been assigned to the northern district with the expectation of an assault from necromancers, and now that the battle had begun, most of Furainé’s men were keen to track down the cursed invaders.
“Maintain a strict hierarchy of advancement.” She ordered, “Under no circumstances are our crossbowmen allowed to lead any movements through the alleyways. Give the order for those with spears to draw shortswords, where possible.”
“Lady Morgan…” Standing next to her was a scout who was trying his best to avoid being overwhelmed by her slew of commands, “-Regarding the corpses on the main road, many of the men believe that we should be prioritising-”
“You wish for us to trade our arms for shovels?” The woman’s grin pierced his heart, “Very well, then. Who am I to oppose the wishes of the common man? Those who are willing to disarm themselves and recover the corpses of the fallen are more than welcome to do so. Ah- but I’m afraid their protection can’t be guaranteed, so if they were to encounter a group of necromancers while doing so…”
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“I-I understand… it was foolish of me to ask.” The scout bowed.
“And what of the frontliners? Have they encountered the enemy yet?” She asked.
“No.” He shook his head, “But, based on the group’s movements, we should be gaining ground on them. You were correct - their force split into two groups upon noticing our arrival.”
“It may seem as though we have the advantage, but do not allow that thought to distract you from the depravity of necromancers.” Furainé replied, “I predict that there is a third, unseen group moving through the district. Victory will be decided by our ability to respond to a multi-directional attack.”
“Shall I reinforce the crossbowmen with skirmishers?” The scout asked.
“No.” She declined, “But keep the soldiers on high alert. We are approaching the Golden Arcade - a perfect staging ground for ambushes. Keep an eye on the interiors of shops and the like.”
“As you wish.”
The scout struggled to push past the congested line of soldiers in the alleyway. Furainé’s forces were spreading through the arteries of the northern district like a suspended tide, eyes peeled for any signs of undead. As the small army emerged back onto the main road, a meticulous feat of architecture awaited their passing. The half-pipe ceiling of the Golden Arcade marked one of the entranceways into the northern district’s most distinguished high street, shelved with establishments peddling luxuries from the far north and beyond.
“Could she truly be the one…?” Furainé wondered, “If all is proceeding according to plan, these may be the ideal conditions for a miracle to take place…”
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Drayya had never seen so much commerce in one place. The arcade’s glass roof seemed to glow in the moonlight, illuminating shop fronts with cerulean rays of dusk. Bakeries, jewellers, tailors, and eateries revealed a world of untold and abandoned wealth, though the arcade’s elegance was somewhat stunted by its eerie silence.
“This wouldn’t be a bad place to set up when we’re finished occupying the district…” Drayya muttered, “Plenty of storage space, defensible, comfortable…”
“Um… excuse me, Margoh…”
“Hm?” Crossing her arms, she spun on her heels to face one of the cultists, “Oh, so Lieze has the pleasure of being referred to as ‘my lady’, but her superior in both talent and cunning must tolerate hearing her first name spoken aloud?”
“That’s…” The cultists shifted his feet, “I didn’t-”
“My name is ‘Drayya’ - that most exquisite surname which connotes an individual of distinguished blood.” She continued, “I would not expect a life-cursed city-dweller to recognise the name, but know this: not one sorcerer within the Order of Necromancers - vile and devious and traitorous as they often are, has dared to address me by my forename. Consider yourself lucky that our circumstances necessitate your survival, or I would have happily spent the rest of the evening uprooting your teeth with a pair of pliers.”
“Dear oh dear.” A feminine voice bounced from the arcade walls, “Such unbridled brutality towards your own… is this the Order’s famed hospitality I’ve heard of so often?”
The voice burrowed into Drayya’s ears. She had developed a reflexive hatred of it. As she faced its source, Furainé and her soldiers turned a corner at the arcade’s central intersection, swords and spear tips illuminated by the moonlight.
“...Hm.” Drayya raised her hand, “How theatrical - the old king’s right-hand woman, leading her men through the darkness without fear. But theatrics will earn you nothing but defeat in war.”
Blood flowed from twin flasks clinking on Drayya’s waist, collecting above her palm and forming into a wicked spear. Without a second thought, she tossed the magical javelin towards Furainé, whose grin only seemed to grow while remaining completely still.
From the hem of her tunic emerged a circle of runes, spreading like a wave throughout the area. As the symbols passed beneath Drayya’s feet, her [Blood Spike] lost cohesion, breaking into droplets mid-air before splattering across the arcade’s polished floor with a wet sound.
“Oh my.” Furainé placed a hand to her mouth in mock disbelief, “Can you really afford to waste mana so readily?”
“Bloody abjurators…” Drayya sighed, “It’s one thing to- hm?”
Her eyes darted skyward, but only for an instant - fast enough that Furainé wouldn’t notice her pause. All of a sudden, her frustrated demeanour vanished.
“You lot!” She yelled to the cultist, “We’re retreating! Move back into the alleyways! Don’t hesitate to leave the Rot Behemoth behind if it’s slowing us down!”
“You’re going to run already?” Furainé’s voice travelled down the length of the arcade, “I recall you making some rather devious threats when first we met, Margoh. I would have expected a member of the distinguished Drayya family to have more courage.”
Drayya resisted the urge to rebuke her, following in the wake of the cultists as they began to retrace their steps.
“No response? Well - I’m afraid I can’t just let you leave.” Furainé raised her arm, “Crossbows!”
At her command, countless bolts flew in an arc through the stale air of the arcade. Drayya was in no position to leap into a nearby shop for cover, and so settled for covering the back of her head and neck while retreating back to the open street. Her nerves screamed in agony as one bolt sank into the flesh of her ankle, forcing the girl into an unexpected fall.
“Spearmen! Strike while the iron is hot! Rid our fair city of those who consort with the dead!”
Furainé’s soldiers were all-too eager to follow her orders, their battle cries flooding the arcade with noise while charging towards Drayya and her disorganised thralls. Her confidence, however, hadn’t been stifled by the setback. As she flipped onto her back, she was given a wonderful view of stars peeking through the cloudy night sky, as well as a countless number of silhouettes darting across the arcade roof.
“Maniac…” She clenched her eyes to distract from the pain, “But… to be pulling something like this in the first place, aren’t we all a little mad…?”
Lieze observed the conflict from above, body half-prone on the curved glass ceiling. Furainé had yet to take notice of the interlopers standing directly above her, single-mindedly observing Drayya’s imminent demise.
“My lady!” One of her cultists yelled, “Is this wise!?”
“The arcade has a second storey!” She replied, voice blurred by the wind, “Just land on the walkway once you break the glass! It’s simple, really!”
That was all the time she had to converse. Furainé’s spearmen were just about to pass underfoot, giving Lieze only a few seconds to finalise her plan. In front of her, a Flesh Elemental was roiling on the glass curve, positioned directly above the street. With a glance, she was able to see that its level was [21] - not the perfect specimen, but more than powerful enough to suit her needs.
“Gods… these past few days have made me realise that I’m not a fan of heights…” She muttered, “Any second now…”
The arcade roof had been an easy vantage to reach. The intricate construction of its glass roof necessitated easy access, and so a number of (thankfully) unattended ladders remained on its walls. It was a simple matter of Lieze levitating up to the roof and breaking the lock to allow her comrades and thralls up.
“I wouldn’t normally try something as risky as this…” She muttered, “But with this… with the Mercuria… we might be able to turn the battle around in one fell swoop…”