(xxviii)

The Lich froze, turning slowly to see a man walking towards him slowly even as the woman squeaked and jumped backward well out of reach. Oh well, so much for opportunities past.

“Step back from the Dryad monster, or I will end you before you are given an opportunity to account for yourself,” he sneered. The man was six feet tall, lithe, and well-muscled. His tan skin shown in the sun and struck Lazarus as someone who would have fit perfectly well into a desert village in his prior life.

There was only one stark difference.

This man was a Taoist of startling power. The Lich could feel the aura emanating off this being, for he had encountered no man such as this before. Ever. The man was a walking natural disaster the likes of which the Lich couldn’t quite fathom.

“Well met, friend. Whom do I have the pleasure of speaking with?” he said with a flesh curdling smile, attempting to go the path of diplomacy. He couldn’t fight this man. Not here, and not as he was currently.

Lazarus frowned internally and attempted to use the Appraisal skill on the Taoist.

DEATH

Startled, the Lich took several steps back, shocked that the holy red text would be so blatant about his predicament. “All hail the red text,” he muttered, not sure quite how to take this newest revelation.

“Ah, Tang Lee… what has the beast done to you,” he muttered to the Ghoul as he stepped closer to the creature. Before Lazarus could give it orders the undead snapped out with its maw, cleaving right through the cloth covering its face and latching onto the Taoist.

The ghoul immediately burst into flame.

The man watched on, nonplussed as the ghoul was incinerated in a golden aura and scattered to the winds. Turning to the Lich, he had a sneer plastered on his face.

“This was one of my official disciples. How you even managed to overpower him is but a guess. However, I will soon have answers Lich. Your race may be rare, mythical even, but that will not save you from my wrath. Abominations such as yourself deserve only captivity or death,” he raged.

Moving forward so fast Lazarus lost sight of him instantly, the man slapped him across the face. Immediately Amalgamated Body failed as the mana that made up his constructed living body was plastered all over the nearby walls and the Dryad's tree. The Lich formed back into his bony self, summoning Ebon King's Armor and King's Great Sword.

“Black Iron Maiden!” cast Lazarus, watching as the spell slammed shut around the Taoist. If it worked once then it would certainly-

The spell exploded, fragments of mana and solidified pieces of the Black Iron Maiden scarring the walls of the square around them.

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“Pathetic. You killed my disciple? I find that hard to believe with your level of power,” the man said, dismissing the culminated knowledge and power that Lazarus had worked so hard to gather. Furious, the Lich closed the distance and swung his blade, which the walking disaster simply batted away.

“You disgust me. Not only are you weak, ill prepared, and pathetic, you have not the energy reserves to even scratch my clothing. Disgusting. Undead such as you need only relegate yourselves to the grave, where you belong!” raged the man, punching clean thorough Ebon King's Armor as if it were nothing but tissue paper.

Lazarus was flung into the Dryad's tree, shattering his defensive plate armor. He struggled to stand, checking his stats as he did so:

Major Stats:

Level: 6 Elite

Heath: 622/2,000 Mana: - /2,200

That single punch had nearly unalived him… re-unalived him. For how can one kill that which isn't properly alive? And he couldn't even perceive his mana from the strike. He should have had something in the realm of full mana, perhaps a bit more, after both Amalgamated Body and his armor were dispelled. But no. The mana was gone. Absorbed... into the tree?

“Hah… your disciple? He was a fool. More interested in throwing his weight around at the mere mortals presented in front of him, murdering those around him, than he was paying attention. A single cast was all it took to remove him from the world of the living,” mocked Lazarus. “If you were his master then you failed to adequately prepare him for the real world.”

The man's sneering face devolved into one of pure anger.

Blurring again, he smashed Lazarus into the Dryad's tree, crushing bone and cloth into the knot holes and crushing them into place. The Dryad quivered in the branches of her tree, taking refuge from the one-sided fight below.

“I changed my mind. Your bones will be powdered to feed my garden. You are worm food, nothing more,” the creature in front of Lazarus stated, its face so twisted with anger that it seemed as if some monstrous djinn had taken the place of where a man once stood.

He tore off the Lich's arms, smashing him back into the tree again. The sound of metal and bone being driven into wood was all the sound that could be heard for a moment. Then the gentle cries of the Dryad as her tree came to harm floated down over the man, seemingly soothing him for a moment.

“My apologies, Dryad. This was not how this was meant to go,” he said to the terrified tree spirit.

Lazarus lay on the ground at the base of the tree. His bones and body broken, the cerulean gold streaked marrow spilling onto the ground around him as if any normal flesh bag leaking his life blood. And perhaps the comparison wasn’t far off.

“How did you know?” asked the Lich, curious.

The man's face returned to a state of irritation, seemingly his base state at that. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” he said. Then he shattered Lazarus’s skull with his boot, ending the Lich.

Watching as the Mana pooled around the Lich’s body dissipated, the man nodded. His work here was done. With the bright sun, the lack of energy, and the severe damage, the creature would simply cease to be after a short while.

“Tree spirit, my apologies. I wish you a good day. Please, do not hesitate to call upon me if you need further assistance,” he said, turning and striding away.

The Dryad nodded, “Of course Grand Archon. Thank you… thank you for saving me!” she replied earnestly.

The man nodded and departed. Shortly after he left, the Dryad looked down at the decaying Lich. Disgusting creature, it was an abomination against the living. It deserved death in every form.

But wait… what was that glint she saw there?

Climbing down from her tree, she stood over the shattered remains of Lazarus. There, in the center of his chest cavity, or what remained of it, was a small medallion. She leaned over and, hesitatingly, picked it up.

“Hello there,” said the Lich directly into her mind as her eyes bulged out in terror.