Throne room, Cymeria, Aquilonia.
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> Diplomat [ 322 ]. Select one ability.
>
> * Subtle Leverage: You can use leverage without angering the other party and improve reactions by up to (Proficiency/25) steps, depending how important the leverage is for the target.
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I sat on a huge pillow with my lower body, four legs tucked underneath me. Nenandil came out to comfort me. A whole day had passed already and she was back.
"Please don't be mad!" She cried. "I had to do that."
I gave her a wry smile. "I'm not. You saved my life there. How much damage did the spell do?"
She sighed, "Almost four times your instant-kill limit. It was a bright day outside, but you weren't in direct sunlight. You'd have died."
I took her in my arms and hugged the fairy. "I promise I won't be mad if you die in combat anymore. I'm holding you back. Sorry."
She shook her head. "No. You were looking after me. Do you have any idea how much being disintegrated hurts?"
"You'll tell me?" I asked.
She did. It sucked.
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Another hundred ghosts and no progress. I wasn't halfway done but I'd wasted two days already. I had my duties as Queen of Aquilonia to attend. Holding court might seem to some as the most glamorous aspect of a Ruler's life, but just because it was the public face. It was borderline maddening, gruesome, tiresome work. Everyone wanted a piece of you, everyone was a sycophant.
Negotiations with the giants were still underway. They wanted too big a plot of land and too much influence. I was sure they were looking down on us. Figuratively and most obviously, literally. In their overgrown brains, they thought they were doing us a favor because obviously all the tiny people down here needed protection.
I was about to beat back their latest argument when one of Kel'Caldor's portals opened right in the middle of the throne room, a meter behind the exact distance a foreign diplomat should stay from my dais. Through it came, surprise surprise, Kel'Caldor. I doubted it was one of the originals although he was decked in fine robes and more enchanted jewelry than any person, normal or not, had the right to wear without imploding from resonance.
"Greetings, mortals," said the lich. "I am Kel'Caldor, [Master of Magic]."
Damn, that brought back memories.
Indeed the lich's title read [Master of Magic]. I doubted more than one person in the world had it. I was before the real deal. My Pinnacle-augmented Poker face held. I raised a hand to stop the guards from attacking. With an apologetical glance, I told the giant diplomat he'd have to wait. The big guy shook his head and returned to his place.
"Aquilonia welcomes Kel'Caldor the lich. We expect you to behave during your visit, master of undeath. Killing and possessing our subjects and allies will be regarded as an act of aggression."
The skeleton bowed a quarter of the way and spoke with perfect manners, "I come in peace, Queen Snowdrop. It would be beneath me to start a war."
Yeah, I was sure it would. I had started it by invading his catacombs, that's what he was telling me.
I could end it all here. Trigger {Last Stand} and {Self-Sacrifice}, nuke the lich's soul with a purifying bomb and erase him before he had the chance to run to his phylactery. Only the doubt that this was the real one stopped me from doing so. Instead, I used a silent query.
> ACKNOWLEDGED. The user's privilege is too low to answer this query.
Even without the System cheat, I knew it was another trick. This one was a clone. Even if I blast this lich's soul, the heritage Perk would go to his heir, probably another Kel'Caldor clone. The only way to take it from it would be to make him grant it to me of his own free will.
"What's ails your mind, necromancer?" I asked.
"Some of my apprentices were murdered. We are investigating the reason and would like to request your Majesty's aid. We hope you help us. The King of Windemere was too rude, and we had to punish him."
Yes, that was it. This guy was here to taunt me.
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> Light Elemental
>
> Soul Shepherd
>
> Champion's Challenge
>
> Flash Blink Step
>
> A Capella (+184 Strength, +157 Dexterity)
The next instant I was behind the lich, breaking its skull with my spear and seizing the soul. I took the harpy chick body and bound the purified lich to it, reincarnating it with its memories intact but back at level zero. A quick {Appraise} told me the title remained with the baby bird girl since it was never truly dead for even a moment. I felt the tug of the lich's phylactery trying to rip the soul out of the living body. The baby harpy was shriveling even with me healing her but a moment later, it stopped. They cut this guy off by breaking his phylactery themselves. I cradled her against my chest.
Carrying the baby harpy wrapped on a silk blanket, I shifted to the Ethereal and traveled to the fairy ring. A few hops across the plains took me to Fulgen. I dropped at the throne room to find another Kel'Caldor there. No title. Stab, crush the skull, dollify the soul. It was getting easier with the practice and the Soul boost from {Retaliatory Strike} but it was still expensive and taxing. I gained no Exp because the System didn't count that as a kill.
"What was that!" The High Queen screamed.
"Sariandi, we're short on time. I need all the MP potions and cores you can spare. This wasn't the true Kel'Caldor, it was a clone. Long story short, he killed King Eric III and is probably trying to strike at those that are important to me. Put the Forest in a state of alert. I'm going to wipe out these undead vermin."
I stared up, glaring where I sensed a scrying spell. "I'm coming for you, sack of bones. You should've cut your losses and left me alone after the volcano."
"Is that a harpy?" Sariandi asked. "What's going on?"
"The lich that possessed Autumn was part of a cabal. I got more than five hundred of them already but there's more. I use too much MP to kill one of them. I need cores and potions."
No, I didn't. I had tons of MP pills in storage. But I wanted Kel'Caldor to believe that.
"If we are going to war with a cabal of liches, may Vukdon have mercy on our mages, we'll need everything we have," Sariandi replied. She also knew I had vast stores of items. "Sorry, mother. We need to look out for ourselves."
I shook my head and stomped with my hooves. "I thought you were better than that, Sariandi!" I lamented and crossed into the Ethereal.
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The baby harpy in my arm cried. I summoned some sweet Peko bread and chewed it without swallowing. Harpies couldn't digest food or drink milk with their beaks. They had to be fed like birds. I gently and slowly dropped the chewed food in the bird girl's wide-open beak. She squealed in glee at the taste.
"I'm not starving you or torturing you, Kel'Caldor. But I don't think you want to be a bird-girl either, do you?"
The harpy shook her head.
"It seems the System kept you activated because you never died. Can you check your status?" She grimaced but nodded. "Do you still have the Heritage Perk?" I said with the pressure of my social abilities. She nodded reluctantly.
"I'm offering you a deal. Give it to me, and I'll release all the Kel'Caldor clone souls I have with me, including you. I bet you don't want to lay an egg every month, do you?"
She raised an eyebrow and rolled her eyes. Releasing the souls would mean they'd drift into the afterlife. And harpies didn't lay eggs, we both knew it. Like every people species with "human-like" features, they were viviparous.
"I'll change the deal. Ignore that one. Give me the Perk and I'll move you to a silk-folk body. A male one, fully functional."
> Divine Negotiator
>
> Contested Charisma check won.
I was literally stealing from a baby.
> You gained the Perk: Master of Magic (Heritage): You gain 10 Magic and the title [Master of Magic]. Spellcaster is always a class proficiency to you with no fast growth. If you pick Spellcaster, you gain a 25% proficiency learning rate bonus. You can gift this Perk freely or transfer it to your heir upon your true death.
The capstone for [Spellcaster] would enhance one of the traditions I picked. I could become a [Grandmaster Wizard], or the [Summoner], [Sorcerer], or [Spell-Singer] equivalent. There were others for other magical traditions that were locked to me. Scrolling down to the end of the list for level 600 Abilities, I found one that struck my fancy. "Path" in this case, meant one of the magical traditions.
> Spellcaster [611]. You have 4 abilities to pick.
>
> * Spirit Cultivator: Gain (Proficiency/50) Soul.
> * Stalwart Persona: Gain (Proficiency/50) Ego.
> * Blessed Star: Gain (Proficiency/50) Luck.
> * Path Least Traveled: Increase Magic by (Proficiency/60). You embrace no magical tradition as your own but take a bit from each. You can combine (Proficiency/200) Perks from other traditions into each spell you cast.
That meant I could use {Spell-Song} Perks with [Wizard] spells. Marlowe would blow steam out of his silk ears.
I created an adult silk-folk body for the little harpy. Getting the soul ready to reincarnate required an important but cruel step, though. Since I had consent, I committed the deed and took the soul. I wiped its memories. I never said I would let him keep them. Once the soul was as bleached as a level zero could be, I joined it with its new body. I kept him unconscious with a spell.
I carried the brand new silk guy north through the Ethereal until I found an empty house inside a city. I gave him clothes, some gold coins, a sword, a gambeson, and a chain hauberk. Laying the body on the bed, I went back to the Ethereal.
There I saw a glowing eye staring at me. A scrying spell. I flipped the bird at it and dispelled it.
Now I knew the secret to Kel'Caldor army of clones. They passed the title around, increasing their power and proficiency. It ended now. Nothing in this world could take it from me.
I used {Vendetta Contract} to mark the liches that attacked me but were still alive. I did have due cause for revenge against all of the clones and the original. Tracking the contract, I cracked my knuckles. It was time to break some magical pottery.
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Somewhere underground
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Kel'Caldor, the only surviving [Farseer] clone, winced. "My spell was forcefully broken," he reported. "She took the title from the clone. I could {Appraise} her before she dispelled my magic."
The original lich shouted in anger, lashing out with purplish-brown bolts. Wherever they hit, a huge chunk of matter vanished into fine silt. "Curses!" He said along with a long stream of expletives in most of the Yznarian languages.
He started to plan an attack on that stupid barbarian city she made. Hours later, another clone teleported into the room. He looked scared and was carrying his own phylactery, a clear breach of protocol. He was one of the long-range telepaths.
"Reports came in. Five of our phylactery nurseries were destroyed. I barely escaped with mine."
"The [Unicorn Queen]," Kel'Caldor hissed. It wasn't a question. He used a spell. "Detect Death Contract!" His eyes glowed with black light, revealing the soul of the urn-carrying lich. "You led her straight to my private sanctum, you imbecile!"