Ogre Tyrant: Chapter 46 - As needs must - Part Two
Four days had passed with only minimal changes in the Werrian Empire’s siege camp. Some attempts had been made at fortifying their walls, but the primary change was the steady stream of enemy combatants leaving the camp and returning in the direction of the Empire’s closest border. It was unclear if these soldiers were leaving under orders or their own volition, but enemy commanders seemed to be making no attempts at stopping them.
Of greater note was the stream of Exp that had increased my level seven times. Wisp had apparently taken my command to heart and was generating more Exp in a single hour than everyone else combined could manage in a week. I wasn’t sure what ratio of Exp Wisp was ‘donating’ through Takesation, but I wasn’t exactly in a hurry to find out either.
Rikit had gained control over another floor of the Laine Labyrinth after conquering territory around the first floor’s portal to the second floor. With the truce still holding with the Empire, the Asrusians were wasting no time in evacuating the population of Laine’s slum and warehouse district.
I had mixed feelings about the evacuation as a whole. Evacuating the civilians removed them from harm’s way and freed up more space for the defending army to manoeuvre and establish barracks close to the fighting. However, it was also considered to be highly likely that an Imperial spy would be hiding amongst the same civilians.
Pact Binders had been Summoning projections of Cin as frequently as they could manage in order to house the civilians and establish curtain walls around the rapidly growing sprawl of buildings. In order to provide the raw materials required for Cin to make the buildings, the enlisted Slaves engaged in rotating shifts to hunt down rock and dirt monsters, carting back the remains for both building materials and fuel for cooking fires.
The Parole Officers spent most of their waking hours joining these monster hunts so they could increase their levels. Unfortunately for them, the low level of the monsters made progress slow going.
Over the course of several Summonings, Cin’s projection had managed to create a rather large traditional well. Unlike Hana’s wells which used the trees to syphon water up and out of the ground like a pump, Cin’s well simply burrowed down towards the water table and then relied on pressure imbalance for the well to then fill itself.
A number of smaller wells and even a rudimentary sewer system had followed in the days afterwards, with new projects becoming ever more frequent as Cin’s mana pool increased by leaps and bounds.
Having lash and our children close at hand was equal parts blessing and curse. Being able to hold them and spend time with them had silenced doubts that had begun to linger in the wake of killing so many people. But their proximity to danger was ratcheting up my stress levels with each passing day.
The fact that the Laine Labyrinth was objectively safer than Sanctuary right at this moment was largely redundant. The fear that lay at the heart of my stress wasn’t entirely rational, so I couldn’t just dispel it with objective reasoning.
“Still no signs of enemy mobilisation,” Gregory reported while doing his best to stay out of reach of Suzy’s eagerly wiggling fingers, “Sorties against the Imperials retreating from our territory has been officially postponed as well. There are simply too many potential witnesses, and the Lord Regent is hoping that their political crisis might signal an end to the war with the Werrian Empire.”
“Freeing your soldiers to fight the Confederates instead,” I commented with general approval.
“Precisely,” Gregory agreed but then hesitated, “There has been talk of ceding the territories already lost in order to buy time for a chance at a meaningful period of peace. An opportunity for rearmament and consolidation of strength-”
“A chance to power level and exploit the Labyrinths?” I interjected, following the general train of thought.
Gregory nodded in agreement without a hint of shame, “As you say, Majesty. We are reaching a tipping point, but it is only through a steep cost in blood and the surrendering of all peripheral holdings. Every town and village has been evacuated, and all we continue to hold are a handful of cities. Even those cities are only held because of your intervention.” Gregory paused and appeared to be taking a few moments to collect his thoughts. “There is a general consensus that so long as the populace of any given city can be evacuated, that abandoning those cities would be preferable to prolonging the conflict.”
“Why?” I asked warily, “Why now?”
Gregory fidgetted uncomfortably, “There are state secrets that I have very recently been informed of,” he replied somewhat evasively while warily looking around the room.
Besides Gregory and myself, there was only Lash and our children. Toofy had taken Ril into the house next door so she could rest more soundly, and Anette had gone with them.
“We do not know if other kingdoms know of this, but it is entirely possible that they might,” Gregory prefaced quietly, “All the same, the Lord Regent has entrusted only a handful of his most trusted retainers with this information, and wishes that you will hold it in similar confidence.”
I nodded and motioned for Gregory to continue.
“Our earliest legends told of how Asrus protected our people and sheltered them from harm in the Labyrinth. Most children will know the tale, and many other kingdoms have similar stories. However, there is more to it than that,” Gregory moved closer, doing his best to ignore the handful of fabric now torn from his sleeve by Suzy, “As a Lord of the Labyrinth, Asrus ruled over a vast realm known as a Demi-Plane, and had absolute control over its boundaries. No one and nothing could enter or leave without his express consent, or so the secret record insists to be true.”
“And you think I can make a Demi-Plane?” I asked sceptically, a quick mental review of my authority as Tyrant returning no such indication.
“Yes, we do,” Gregory replied bluntly, “The record has...diagrams, which depict ten discs merging into a larger single disc. The royal scholar believes that this is a visual representation of the process that creates a Demi-Plane. We believe that once you have complete control over the entry and exit portals of ten floors, you will be able to create a Demi-Plane of your own.”
I couldn’t manage more than just staring at Gregory for the better part of a minute as my brain struggled to process what he was telling me. “Why are you only telling me this now?” I demanded, irritated that I hadn’t been told of such a thing much sooner.
Gregory glanced at Suzy, “The records diagrams suggest that the Demi-Plane will collapse upon the death of the owner. The original historical account held by the royal family confirms this interpretation. Asrus’ Demi-Plane was destroyed when he eventually died. However, there is something else. The royal scholar believes that the Demi-Plane is only destroyed if it can’t be inherited by a descendent. Asrus never produced any offspring, so his theory holds some merit.”
“But why tell me now?” I insisted again, this time with greater intensity.
Gregory flinched, “The Lord regent believed that you would uncover the means to create a Demi-Plane on your own, and that once you had done so, a decision could be made whether it was a viable long term solution...”
There was nothing strictly wrong with their reasons for withholding the information, but I felt a hot rush of anger as I realised that if I could create a Demi-Plane, then there was a very real possibility that I could stop the Liche’s attacks on Sanctuary outright. The more I thought about it, the angrier I became. I had been nothing but benevolent to these people, and they had withheld information that was crucial for protecting my family.
Gregory paled, but he didn’t shy away.
Forcing down my anger, I took several deep breaths. Now was not the time for venting my frustration, I needed to be practical. Protecting my family was my highest priority.
“The floors, do they have to be from the same Labyrinth?” I hissed while slowly clenching and unclenching my fists to stay calm.
“We don’t know for certain,” Gregory admitted, “But there is nothing that states says they have to be either.”
“And what happens to the Labyrinth or Labyrinths after the floors are taken away?” I pressed, “Will the Labyrinth just connect to another floor instead? And how do you enter the Demi-Plane?”
Gregory remained silent until I raised my final question, “Ah! We believe that the entrance to the Demi-Plane is created at the location of the creator's choice,” he seemed profoundly relieved to have at least one of the answers I had asked for. The fact that the answer was almost completely unhelpful seemed to be beside the point.
“So I won’t know until I do it...” I stated bluntly before letting out a long drawn-out sigh of frustration.
I took a few moments to calm down and do a quick property census. Ignoring the Mournbrent Labyrinth, I had four floors completely locked down in the Hurst Labyrinth and four more in the Laine Labyrinth. So if the location of the floors didn’t matter, then I would only need two more floors, a total of four more portal locations, under my control.
With Rikit already on the move, I decided that I would prefer to resolve the issue sooner rather than later.
*Tingling*
A tall emaciated-looking bat-winged Daemon with short dark fur appeared beside Suzy. Armoured in dark boiled leather, Garn made an effort to keep his spear out of Suzy’s reach. This was for the best since it was a copy of Shiverfang and the prime cause for my having Summoned him.
“Garn, I need you to seize the fifth floor of the Hurst Labyrinth,” I commanded bluntly, aware that Daemons did not take it personally, “I’ll be sending a few hundred of our enlisted and their Parole Officers with you so they can gain Exp, understood?”
Garn made to bow, realised Suzy was eyeing the butt of his spear, thought better of it, and then nodded his head instead, “I obey, my Tyrant,” Garn replied obediently in his pitchy squeaking voice before abruptly disappearing.
“I would appreciate it if you ferried the enlisted to Hurst,” I told Gregory flatly, making it clear that he was still on my shit list.
“As you command, Majesty,” Gregory bowed, lost another sizable chunk of fabric from his sleeve, and then left.
“Bwa!” Suzy slapped the edge of her cauldron in frustration upon realising her prey had gotten away.
“You are angry,” Lash commented quietly while stroking the downy dark hair that had begun to grow on the back of Pete’s head.
“Frustrated,” I agreed while making an effort to try and properly calm down. I didn’t want to be a father and husband that was angry around his wife and kids.
Suzy watched our exchange with interest while chewing on the sleeve of Gregory’s coat. A reminder that they were far more developed than regular human babies would have been.
“It just seems like they waited until they had no other choice, or decided that it was now to their best benefit,” I explained bitterly, “I thought I would have earned more trust than that by now, especially after all I have done for them.”
Lash just quietly nodded in general agreement while I continued to vent for another ten to twenty minutes.
Feeling somewhat better, I spent some time playing with Suzy while discussing our potential future plans with Lash.
“I know I asked you to stop taking the mana stones and not to drink Elixir while you were pregnant, but so long as you keep the Elixir away from Pete and Suzy, I don’t see a problem with you drinking one every now and then,” I admitted after confirming that Lash had no desire to breastfeed our kids, not now that their teeth were coming in.
Lash grinned, “Tim thinks Lash is too small?” She teased, flexing her muscles while tickling Suzy’s chin.
I grinned back at her, “You could be bigger,” I agreed lightheartedly, “But mostly it would help give me peace of mind knowing that you can protect yourself, Pete and Suzy while I am away. It’s just a shame the twins can’t drink Elixir-” I held up a hand as I moved to correct myself, “-shouldn’t drink Elixir. Alcohol will disrupt their brain’s development and cause dependency issues.”
Lash gave me a strange look but nodded in agreement, trusting that I knew what I was talking about. “Special water makes them stronger,” Lash added, “Don’t need Elixir.”
“Huh? What do you mean?” I asked curiously.
Lash pointed to Pete’s cauldron, “Grove water, not normal.”
It took me a moment, but I realised what Lash was getting at. “They soak in the mana-infused water all the time, so they don’t really need Elixir.”
Lash nodded and smiled smugly, “Ril does too.”
I knew that I had already known that, but for whatever reason, I just hadn’t put two and two together. I decided to blame it on stress and let the matter go.
“If this whole Demi-Plane thing works out, we might actually have a truly safe place to raise Suzy and Pete,” I commented hopefully, “And after the fighting stops, we can spend more time together as a family.”
Lash smiled and rested her head against my shoulder while sighing contentedly, “Will be good,” she agreed quietly.
I had been allowing Clarice to take Ushu out with Dhizi in the mornings and afternoons so they could get their exercise. So I wasn’t particularly surprised when Clarice let herself in.
“You need to work on evolving Ushu,” Clarice insisted while taking a seat beside Suzy’s cauldron and waving a large strip of meat enticingly, “If we get lucky, you might be able to Evolve him into a true Dragon, or maybe a Wyvern!”
“Lucky?” I asked, somewhat confused while emotionally shifting gears, “I’m fairly certain Ushu is a Variant.”
Clarice froze, and Suzy snatched the strip of meat from her hand before descending to the depths of her cauldron with her prize. “A Variant? You're sure?” Clarie asked in a hushed tone.
“Fairly sure,” I agreed, “The same goes for Shady. I can’t be absolutely certain, but there is a look in their eyes and a feeling I get that they aren’t like the mass-produced clones, you know?”
Clarice slowly shook her head and then shrugged, “I mean, I was pretty slow on the uptake with you, Tim. So if what you're saying is true, it’s not like I would notice. Or maybe it’s because you're kinda like them? Maybe that gives you a special Ability or an edge.”
“Maybe,” I agreed with a noncommittal shrug of my own.
“But wow! Now you have to work at Evolving him! Evolving into a Dragon is just a matter of time!” Clarice declared excitedly, “Imagine flying into battle on the back of a Dragon!”
“What about Dhizi?” I asked with a smirk.
“Oh yeah!” Clarice exclaimed with mounting enthusiasm and excitement, “We could breed Ushu with Dhizi and have a whole mess of Dragons!”
“That wasn’t what I meant...” I stated flatly, although I was fairly certain Clarice wasn’t listening.
“Who knows? Maybe Dhizi will Evolve into something with wings too?” She mused with a wistful sigh.
“There’s a bit of a size difference,” I noted tactfully, “Ushu is easily at least three times Dhizi’s size...”
Clarice didn’t seem to hear me and continued ruminating on hypotheticals.
Lash chuckled quietly while continuing to lean on my shoulder.
“Ushu still has four sub Evolutions to go before his next major Evolution, Clarice,” I reminded her, “It's going to be quite some time before that happens.”
Clarice considered this for a moment and then grinned, “Nah, I reckon you could push it through if you have that weirdo Wisp share the mana stones he’s farming.”
I was momentarily taken aback, “How do you know what Wisp is up to?” I asked warily.
Clarice snickered and shook her head, “You made me an Underlord, Tim. I might not be the fastest reader but I can still read. No way he could have levelled so quickly on the lower floors. He’s already close to twice your level and doesn’t look like he’s slowing down any time soon.”
That gave me pause. I mentally reviewed Wisp’s Status and was surprised to find that Clarice was right. Wisp was already Level fifty-seven, but he had not taken his next major Evolution.
“One moment,” I muttered, gathering my mana in preparation for a potentially lengthy conversation.
*Tingling*
A tall black-robed figure with long arms and spindly clawed fingers appeared a short distance from Clarice. Clad in armour made from bones lashed together with dried tendons, Wisp’s glowing eyes peered out from behind the eye sockets of an elk-like skull worn over the cowl of his robes. “You have need of me, my Tyrant?” Wisp inquired with his dry crackling voice.
Lash shifted uncomfortably and pulled both cauldrons away from the Master Necromancer.
If Wisp was offended by the action, he showed no signs of it.
“Why haven’t you Evolved yet?” I asked bluntly, “At the rate you have been gaining Exp, you should have been able to progress at least once.”
Wisp bowed his head, “This is true, my Tyrant,” he admitted freely, “I was given orders to advance so I could counter fend off the Liche that continues to contest control of your territory, not to indulge in the personal progression of my own Evolution. My advancement has been a byproduct of acquiring new hosts and nothing more. I have a specific path of advancement in mind, but will require time away from the ongoing conflict in order to make this transition.”
“What path of Evolution?” I asked curiously. Wisp was the first true monster I had heard mention a specific plan of their own Evolution. Most monsters just seemed content with the prospect of managing to achieve a single major Evolution in their lifetime.
“I wish to become a true spirit,” Wisp replied with longing, “To no longer be bound by the insatiable hunger of my current nature as an undead. To feed upon souls is intoxicating, but that indulgence inevitably leads to madness. A yawning pit that grows ever wider, demanding more souls ever more frequently to be momentarily satisfied...” Wisp’s already quiet voice had become little more than a whisper and his eyes flickered dangerously, “I wish to survive and to serve. Not be put down like a rabid Beast when the madness inevitably claims me. I thought...I thought I could control it, and I can, but I can already see my limits...I need a new path.”
“And being a Spirit would change that?” Clarice asked, sounding equally sceptical and curious at the same time.
Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.
Wisp divided his attention between myself and Clarice, “To a certain degree. As I am now, I am a weed strangling the crops others need in order to survive, destined to be uprooted and burned. I wish to become a tree, with roots deep enough to care for myself and provide boons for those who assist in my growth. It is an odd metaphor, but my knowledge of humanoid values is limited to what I have learned while serving beside the soldiers in the Mournbrent Labyrinth,” Wisp apologised quietly.
“How does becoming a spirit make you a tree?” Clarice asked, making no attempts at hiding or disguising her confusion.
“Because Spirits can be sustained through worship and sacrifice,” I interjected before Wisp had a chance to reply, “Just like the Fallen Angels and the Daemons, that can accept Summons in exchange for mana stones.”
“My Tyrant is correct,” Wisp agreed with a hint of surprise, “But there is more. Not only do true Spirits not hunger as the undead Spirits do, but they can provide boons in exchange for the mana stones that provide them sustenance.”
“But what does that mean exactly?” Clarice demanded warily.
“To reference my former role in defence of the fortress on the first floor of the Mournbrent Labyrinth, a suitable effigy or totem provided with sufficient mana stones, could be infused with my Ability to ward against the undead,” Wisp explained patiently, “Without requiring my active presence to do so.”
“You can already infuse that Ability into objects to make magic items, but I can see how outsourcing could be a benefit,” I agreed thoughtfully before shifting my attention to another one of Wisp’s Master Necromancer Class Abilities, “Preserve Dead would see a great deal of use amongst civilians. There is no refrigeration that I am aware of, so increasing the longevity of meat in exchange for mana stones seems like an easy niche role to fill. Just like how Qreet increases crop yields or create new breeds of plants to fit the farmers' needs or wants.”
“These were my thoughts as well,” Wisp agreed.
“You would be fine spending the rest of eternity as a god of preserving meat?” Clarice demanded incredulously.
“Yes,” Wisp replied sincerely, “My service would be acknowledged by all, and I would have time enough to indulge in scholarly pursuits. The soldiers referred to this as a, win-win.”
If Wisp transitioned to what he referred to as a true Spirit, that would effectively create a third separate branch of servants that would be passively accruing power and influence under my banner. With so many Daemons already engaging in the practice, I would be some kind of hypocrite to deny Wisp’s desire to abandon undeath and enter a life of relative leisure while performing a valuable service.
“Alright Wisp, you have my blessing,” I agreed supportively, “How long would you need in order to Evolve?”
“A few days, my Tyrant,” Wisp replied with gratitude, “I believe I must confront and master my hunger before the Evolution is made available to me.”
“So you would need to be truly isolated...” I realised with a pang of concern.
“Indeed. But I believe the city outside of the Mournbrent Labyrinth will suit such a purpose. There is a place antithetical to undeath that surrounds the Gateway,” Wisp explained slowly, “I believe that the aura of the place will ensure favourable options in Evolution if I am able to defeat my hunger.”
“The grand cathedral in Mournbrent serves as a supply line to the Labyrinth for reinforcements,” I reminded Wisp, “Shutting it down for even a single day could lose our foothold.”
“Yes, I am aware, my Tyrant,” Wisp admitted, “I intend to shed my current shell and swear oaths that would deny my leaving a specific location within the aura or using any Abilities until I have Evolved. If I succumb and fall to madness, then the aura and my oath will destroy me.”
“And you would be okay with that?” I asked sceptically.
“Well, no...” Wisp admitted, “I would very much prefer to live. But I won’t have much of a future at all if I do not take risks now to change my path. I doubt I would live past a thousand years before going truly insane.”
Clarice choked on her own spit, “A thousand fucking years?!” She demanded, “You're complaining about only getting to live a thousand years?!”
“At my current rate of estimated deterioration, yes,” Wisp replied stiffly, “But the sharp decline would likely begin at around four hundred or so.”
“Fuck me...” Clarice cursed and massaged her temples, “You’re going to throw away five hundred years, for the chance to be an immortal cold box?”
“Yes,” Wisp agreed enthusiastically, “I would rather burn out now than slowly fade away! That would be torture!”
I could kind of see where Wisp was coming from now. It was like learning your family has a long history of Parkinsons and that you have far less time to truly live like everyone else than you originally planned. Wisp was choosing an experimental treatment that might kill him in preference to a guaranteed decline in his faculties.
“I’ll have someone meet you outside of the Cathedral so you can swear your oaths,” I agreed with some reluctance. Wisp had been generating a great deal of Exp on my behalf, so losing that source of Exp was going to stall my own progression again. Which reminded me of my original reason for contacting Wisp in the first place. “Wisp, I want you to deliver the mana stones you have collected to Sanctuary first so the Alchemists can make more Elixirs. And Ophelia will be the one to accompany you to the grand cathedral and accept your vows.”
“Of course, my Tyrant,” Wisp agreed, “I will make all haste towards the portal back to the city.”
Wisp disappeared, returning a small amount of mana back to me in the process.
“I just don’t get it...” Clarice muttered, kicking her heel against the floor, “He’s practically immortal already anyway.”
“I think it's a matter of perspective Clarice. There were a lot of people like that in my world as well. What would you do if you found out you only had another twenty years to live?” I asked rhetorically, “Most otherwise sane people scramble for any sort of cure they can find. The sure thing of another twenty years of relatively good health means little in the face of a rapid decline afterwards. People have thrown their lives away on bogus treatments because they desperately want to be whole again. I don’t think there was a week that would go by without the news reporting on some scam or another taking advantage of people in that situation.”
Clarice let out a long irritated sigh and slowly nodded, “I think I get what you mean. But still, five hundred years!”
“What is news?” Lash asked curiously.
I felt my cheeks redden slightly in embarrassment from my presumption that everyone would know what I meant. “It’s like someone who comes to you and tells you what is going on in other places, like a messenger. But they would tell you all sorts of things, not just the things you think you want to know about. It was a sort of entertainment for some people that were just curious about what was going on around the world.”
Lash shrugged and returned to playing with Suzy.
“So we are going to give Ushu a whole mess of Elixir, right?!” Clarice insisted with renewed enthusiasm.
“Why not Dhizi?” I countered, “She probably doesn’t appreciate the attention you're lavishing on Ushu instead of her.”
Clarice flinched, “Eh...yeah, your probably right,” she admitted, “Dhizi has been a bit more bitey than usual...”
“And you said there was a chance she might be able to Evolve into a Wyvern or something like a Dragon anyway, so why focus on Ushu?” I pressed, “Especially if you were serious about trying to pair them up.”
Clarice silently nodded in agreement before growing excited again, “Wait, so you would be fine with me feeding Dhizi a whole bunch of Elixirs so she can Evolve?”
I shrugged, “So long as you earn it.”
Clarice slumped slightly in disappointment before perking up again, “Well, maybe there is a special quest you can give me? Something that would let me earn those Elixirs?”
I was about to dismiss Clarice’s request out of hand, but reconsidered as I thought of something Clarice could do for me. “If you can hunt down the Imperial spy or spies, I’ll give you high strength Elixirs in exchange. Deal?”
“Spies?” Clarice scratched her head for a few moments and then nodded in agreement, “Yeah, alright, I’ll give it a shot. But to be clear, I just have to help uncover the spies, right? I don’t have to actually catch them?”
“Sure,” I agreed, willing to compromise if it meant that the problem would be actively addressed sooner rather than later.
Clarice grinned, “Just so you know, I’m probably going to have to say some nasty shit about you to try and draw them out,” she cackled while eagerly rubbing her hands together.
“So long as you get results, I don’t think I really care,” I replied with a shrug, “I doubt most people would put up any resistance to what you say anyway. It’s not like they know me.”
Clarice shrugged and sauntered out of the house, “just make sure to make that quest official! I don’t want you weaselling out of this!”
Whether Clarice would manage to flush out the spies or not, I took some peace of mind in the fact that at least someone would be trying.
Making the quest official, I added a provision that would automatically share the quest with anyone who assisted in flushing out the spies.
“What the hell?!” Clarice cried out from just outside of the doorway, and I was inclined to agree with her.
Someone named Percy had just completed four separate iterations of the quest.
“Still counts!” Clarice cried as she sprinted away from the door and towards Dhizi.
“I’ll be back,” I grunted while hurrying towards the door. This was too strange not to investigate.
Cross-referencing the quest completion notification against the census, I began making my way directly toward Percy. Clarice was riding Dhizi and caught up to me in no time.
“You know where he is?” Clarice asked, taking great care not to bite her tongue.
“That way!” I pointed towards one of the larger buildings in the newly created urban sprawl.
“On it!” Dhizi picked up speed and began leaping from rooftop to rooftop in order to avoid the confused pedestrians on the main road.
By the time I arrived, a large crowd of more than a few hundred people had gathered around the building. Specifically, they were gathered around the alleyways leading up to the building. They only seemed to keep any degree of distance because of Dhizi looming over them from the rooftop and a sparse number of Asrusian soldiers attempting to maintain a sense of order.
The crowd parted at my approach. Faces stared up at me with fear and awe as everyone reflexively backed away.
Clarice and a small group of soldiers were standing beside four bodies strewn about the alley seemingly at random. However, my attention was drawn toward a small boy hiding amongst the gathered crowd of onlookers.
Before I could signal for Clarice or one of the soldiers to approach, the crowd seemed to sense the focus of my attention and backed away from the boy. An old man and woman young enough to be the boy’s mother, all wearing dirty ragged clothing, were now isolated by a ring of bodies.
Clarice realised what was happening and moved over to investigate, elbowing a few less than cooperative civilians to move them out of her way.
The old man and the woman did their best to shield the boy behind them, but their defiance didn’t amount to much with all things considered.
“Your Percy?” Clarice guessed, looking past the old man and woman and down at the small boy behind them.
The small boy nodded timidly, his eyes wide with fear.
“He didn’t do nothing!” The old man protested, manoeuvring himself to place himself in front of the woman and Percy.
“Four bodies say otherwise,” Clarice countered with a smirk, “He’s not in trouble by the way.”
The old man hesitated, a faint glimmer of hope in his eyes, “He’s not?”
“Of course not. There’s no way a kid that small could take out four grown men,” Clarice barked incredulously, earning a wave of muttering from the crowd. “We just need to talk to Percy about what he saw. That’s all.”
The old man nearly collapsed with relief, and probably would have if the woman hadn’t caught him by the shoulder.
“You are with the soldiers?” The woman asked with a quiet voice, a hint of distrust in her tone.
Clarice wavered her hand, “Sort of. I mean, technically I outrank them because I work for the big boss,” she pointed a thumb over her shoulder and back towards me.
The crowd followed Clarice’s movements and edged slightly further away while their murmurings increased in volume and intensity.
Clarice’s words didn’t seem to reassure the woman much at all.
“There’s a reward,” Clarice added slyly, and all we need is a few moments with Percy to confirm what happened. Those men are criminals you know, and if my guess is right, they tried to kill Percy.”
The woman paled visibly before glancing down at Percy with the degree of concern only a mother could muster, “We will go with you,” she agreed quietly, her voice nearly drowned out by the cries of anger and outrage from the crowd.
It was obvious that Clarice had already guessed what had happened, but I was curious as to why Percy had been attacked in the first place. The vows against attempting murder and harming children were almost definitely the reason why the four men had died, but they should have known that would happen. So why did they do it?
*****
Amalda did her best to ignore Liz’ incessant pacing and mumbling while trying to think of a way out of their current predicament. The carefully laid plan that had taken the better part of a decade in careful political manoeuvrings and extortionate bribery was now well and truly in tatters.
The unexpected arrival and intervention of the Ogre had ruined everything. Working hand in hand with the human kingdom that lay directly outside of the Mournbrent Labyrinth, the Ogre had purged all of Amalda’s minions from the overrun human city. Then, to make things worse, he had also trapped her forces inside of the Labyrinth by seizing the fortress controlling access to the portal that provided the only means of exiting the Labyrinth en masse.
Amalda’s lifeless fist clenched tight around her sceptre.
“We should just leg it,” Liz muttered for the hundredth time that evening, “Order all these idiots to swarm the fortress and scarper using your wand.”
“We can’t do that,” Amalda replied icily, immediately regretting her choice in tone as Liz staggered slightly and flinched away from her, “The Pale Council will hunt us down like rats,” Amalda explained in a more neutral tone.
Liz fidgetted uncomfortably and refused to look at Amalda, choosing instead to focus on the remains of a broken chair she had thrown at the wall an hour earlier, “That’s the thing though, sometimes rats get away...”
“We made a deal, Liz, and if we try to back out of it, we're as good as true dead and you know it,” Amalda countered firmly, “We just need to get more creative.”
“He turned them into fucking monsters!” Liz snapped in frustration, “That was meant to be our major advantage! And now he had fucking demons and Angels and shit! That bitch with the wings nearly killed me!” She waved the blackened stump of her left bicep for emphasis. “We can’t win this war! We need to run!”
Amalda shifted uncomfortably and rested her free hand over her abdomen. She had felt the hellish bite of the Angel’s blade as well and felt genuine fear at the prospect of facing it again.
“I can petition the Pale Council to let us access the higher floors for Exp,” Amalda insisted, “Or ask for more elite troops.” The words sounded hollow, even to herself. The greatest monsters the council had loaned them were the least amongst the council's respective hosts, but they had not been given over lightly.
“It’s not worth it!” Liz hissed, her canines elongating as her anger sympathetically triggered her hunger, “The game was already up when they sent that last messenger! You think she didn’t take a good long look at how thin our ranks have become? Or how almost all of those elite monsters they loaned us are missing?!”
Amalda knew all this already, but unlike Liz, she knew that the council had means far beyond what Liz and Amalda had been allowed to witness. Choosing to run away was the same as committing suicide, only with more steps.
Facing off against the Ogre and its allies was proving to be little better, but it was not the same guarantee of failure. The Ogre wasn’t invincible, just profoundly resistant to Amalda’s magic and Liz’s physical attacks. They needed to create a situation where they could isolate the Ogre from its allies and minions. Wear him down by throwing everything they had at him, and then and only then, move in for the kill themselves.
Amalda now understood that attacking the Ogre’s home had been a monumentally stupid mistake. She should have told her human allies to fuck right off when they made the proposition. In all likelihood, all of Amalda’s plans would have been right on schedule if she hadn’t agreed to kick the proverbial hornet's nest.
In attacking the Ogre’s home, and killing his minions, Amalda had made it personal. She understood that now. Even if the Ogre’s alliance with the humans collapsed immediately after Liz and herself were dead, that wouldn’t help Amalda and Liz at all.
To make things worse, the Ogre was just like ‘them’. A human from Earth stuck inside of a monster’s body. The Ogre also had at least one completed artefact. He had proven as much when stealing Amalda’s territory.
“If we can’t run, then we need to shift tactics,” Liz muttered irritably, “Get outside and sow some terror amongst the humans, cut off his support and replenish our ranks.”
“We wouldn’t be able to bring more than a handful of undead back into the Labyrinth,” Amalda reminded her, “But sowing some discord might be precisely what we need...We could just leave the undead to ravage the countryside instead and retreat if we get caught by a credible threat...”
“We could let loose some vamps,” Liz agreed, “Let them make as many spawn as they want. At this point, who cares if the chain of control is broken? I sure don’t. If we win, we can just cull those that don’t fall in line. If we lose...Who fucking cares?! It’s not our problem anymore!”
“That could work,” Amalda agreed, feeling rather vindictive herself at this point. Distracting the Ogre’s human allies would also help improve their chances of isolating the Ogre outright. However, there was a problem. “We will need to make our way out from the city outside, I don’t have any other viable teleportation locations in the human world.”
Liz shrugged, wincing as she raised her blackened stump, “So long as we avoid that big church, then we should be fine. You still have that spell that can block out the sun, yeah?”
Amalda nodded. It cost a fair bit of mana to maintain over long periods of time, but since Liz would be the only recipient, the mana cost would be manageable. “We will need to find another city or a big town, otherwise, I don’t think there will be enough destruction to get their attention.”
Liz paused mid-step and swivelled on her heel to face Amalda with a wide manic grin on her face, “Hey! What if we turned on those bloody Russians?! Turned their army into a horde of vamps and zombies?!”
Liz and Amalda had originally planned to betray the Werrian Empire after gaining complete control over the region around the city. Then again, they had also intended to betray the Confederation of Independent City States in much the same manner. Converting both armies into undead would have allowed them to sweep across the continent with minimal real opposition. That had been the plan...
“Do you still have that emissary they sent us?” Amalda asked, rising from her throne with practised grace and feigning at straightening her perfectly unruffled gown.
“Sure do!” Liz cackled eagerly, growing still for a moment and closing her eyes while issuing a silent command to her Thrall. “I've had him continuing to send those false reports of our activities, just like you suggested,” Liz commented conversationally, “Pretty sure they think I have him under mind control though.”
Amalda arched an eyebrow, “Well, provided they aren’t complete idiots, they would have to at least entertain the possibility. Expecting them to do otherwise is rather childish.”
Liz shrugged, “We should be able to find out where one of their larger armies is and then hit em hard while they are sleeping!” She insisted while hungrily licking her blood-red lips.
Amalda was generally aware of Liz’ outright addiction to drinking blood and the bouts of psychosis that accompanied it. What she did not appreciate was the danger within which Liz would place herself in order to satisfy that addiction. The loss of her arm was as much a testament to the danger of Liz’ addiction as it was the Angel who had struck the blow.
The Angels serving the Ogre were faster than humans but painfully slow by Vampyr standards. All the same, the Angels had wracked up a horrific body count amongst the strongest of Liz’ progeny. The reason for this was simple. The Angels weren’t afraid to die.
Nothing more than flawed copies of the originals, the Angels would accept fatal blows in order to land a strike against a Vampyr. And that single strike was all too often enough to destroy the Vampyr on the spot.
While reconstituting her body, Amalda had spent a great deal of time watching the efforts made to retake the fortress leading to the outside of the Labyrinth. The Angels were fearless, but it was the demons that scared her.
The projection of a single large scaly demon had nearly single-handedly annihilated an entire division of elite minions awarded to Amalda from the Pale Council. They hadn’t even managed to kill the demon either. They had delivered a number of small wounds and insignificant Conditions, but in the end, its summoning had run its course and the demon just disappeared.
Amalda had come face to face with that same demon while attempting to assassinate the Ogre. It was even larger in person and had shrugged off her Necrotic Blasts like they were nothing more than cool air. What Amalda had not expected was for a cadre of equally powerful demons to spring out of the shadows. She had been torn limb from limb before the Angel drove its sword into her belly, but Amalda still felt the pain from its touch.
It was to their good fortune that the Ogre seemed determined to keep his most powerful servants in reserve, far away from the battlefield. The Summoned copies were a problem, but nothing compared to the originals. Besides, a Summoner could be killed with far greater ease.
A middle-aged man with a balding head and haggard face shuffled into the room before prostrating himself before Liz. Pale and sickly, there was no doubt that he was the Thrall Liz had sent for.
“You told your former bosses to send an emissary, right?” Liz demanded, planting her foot squarely on the Thrall’s back and leaning forward on her knee to make a show applying additional pressure. This was entirely unnecessary. Amalda knew for a fact that Liz could push her foot through the Thrall’s ribcage without expending any real amount of effort.
“Yes, mistress...” The Thrall replied in a horse simpering tone.
“Good,” Liz removed her booted heel from the Thrall’s back and then kicked him hard enough to send him flying back out the open doorway and into the adjoining hall, “Filthy cockroach,” Liz muttered with disgust. “You think they will appear in that same rundown tower?” She asked conversationally while walking over to the coat rack.
“Most likely,” Amalda replied, “They don’t have my sceptre, so they wouldn’t be able to teleport inside of the fortress even if they wanted to.”
“I still think it’s bullshit that the sceptre lets you break the rules like that,” Liz snickered, “Not that I’m complaining,” she chuckled to herself while reaching for her cloak. Liz froze, her expression darkening as she realised she had just tried to lift her cloak off the rack with a hand that was no longer there, “Maybe I should be complaining,” Liz muttered quietly before reaching for her cloak with her left hand instead.
Amalda pretended not to have noticed. Liz had a point, but admitting that would only cause her to ignore her own failings that caused her injury in the first place.
Besides, the Sovereign's Sceptre required a large amount of mana to make the most of its ability to bypass the Settlement Barriers. More so when the territory was properly locked down against interdimensional travel.
Amalda strongly suspected that even if she had not given up on attacking the Ogre’s home directly, she probably wouldn't have been able to if she tried. It was obvious that the Ogre was consolidating his control over his captured territories in his native Labyrinth. So it was entirely possible that he had already triggered a convergence, amalgamating the floors under his control into a singular Demi-Plane. If he had, then Amalda would not have nearly enough mana to invade even if she left Liz and their minions behind.
Leaving the fortress behind them, Amalda and Liz had nothing to fear from the intelligent and mindless undead that stalked the blackened forest that now surrounded them. The mindless undead did not register their existence unless overtly provoked, and the intelligent undead knew better than to provoke Liz or Amalda.
Of course, they weren’t the only ones stalking the Darkwood, as they had both come to call it over the years. There would be spies of the Pale Council scuttling about, keeping tabs on their progress, or lack thereof, and reporting back to each of their respective masters. There would also be a small number of Amalda’s own minions culling the mindless undead for mana stones and Exp.
They made the trip to the rundown tower in near silence that was only broken by Liz’ muttering under her breath or kicking stones off of their path and into the woods. While she couldn’t pretend that the temporary loss of her arm was a relatively big deal, Liz was more than capable of fighting using her feet if she wanted to.
It was what had earned her ticket to this place in the first place.
Both Liz and Amalda were something of a rarity amongst the Awakened, as everyone else referred to themselves and each other. They had both known each other while they were still alive on Earth. Amalda had even witnessed the murder that earned Liz her ticket. After all, it was where Amalda had earned her own.
They had been on a date, their fifth, in some dingy dive bar in London. Liz had gotten into a fight with some drunk football supporters watching the T.V. One of the bigger men had grabbed her, trying to crush Liz against his chest. Liz didn’t even hesitate as she leaned in and bit down hard into his neck.
Attempting to throw Liz away had only succeeded in ripping free a bloody chunk of the man’s neck.
The resulting brawl had been chaotic, and Amalda struggled to remember most of the details. However, she distinctly recalled seeing Liz slam her steel-capped boot into the man’s temple and how the crunch momentarily silenced the room as the man collapsed to the ground. The other men and women had swarmed Liz and were beating her mercilessly. Amalda vaguely remembered breaking a bottle over someone's head and stabbing someone else with the broken neck of the bottle.
Amalda didn’t remember what happened next, but could only assume that both Liz and herself had been beaten to death, or died of complications before reaching a hospital. Liz had arrived first and was partially deranged by the time they found one another. The rarity of blood in the Labyrinth at the time was the primary contributor to her derangement, but apparently, Liz remembered enough of the fight to realise that she had likely gotten Amalda killed as well.
As true as that realisation was, Amalda had done her best to downplay it as much as possible. After all, they were together again, and that was all that mattered.
Not once in the decade since their deaths had Amalda blamed Liz for what had happened. She had known what she was signing up for when they had first started dating. At any given point, Amalda could have bailed and would have still been alive. But she hadn’t. Then again, if she hadn’t pushed Liz into getting clean, she probably wouldn’t have started the confrontation that killed them. The way Amalda saw it, she was far more to blame than Liz had been for what happened to them.
As the crumbling ruins of the tower grew closer, Amalda ceased her reminiscing and concentrated her senses. In a similar way to how a wolf or other predator could smell its prey over long distances, and snakes could see their prey in the ultraviolet spectrum, Amalda could sense the living or partially living, such as the Vampyrs, when they entered a certain range. She could also see their life force, depending on the number of obstructions between them.
Sensing a dozen living targets within the crumbling tower, Amalda decided that this would ultimately be to their benefit.
Amalda explained telepathically.
Liz nodded and disappeared into the shadows of the trees.
Amalda could still sense her general location, but only because Liz allowed it.
Approaching the Imperial’s lapdogs on her own, Amalda was somewhat surprised to find that only one amongst their number was a Necromancer. After doing some quick maths in her head, she realised that after accounting for those already killed in action against the Ogre, this still left four Necromancers unaccounted for. That was not ideal, but Amalda would cross that bridge once it came to it.
Now standing before the tower, Amalda waited patiently for the Imperials to send out their designated negotiator.
The negotiator was almost guaranteed not to possess a wand of teleportation, but their dialogue would hopefully keep the negotiator's companions sufficiently distracted for Liz to do her thing.
“My Lady,” a vaguely Russian accented voice called out in greeting as a short middle aged man in fine clothes and armour stepped out of the tower under the careful watch of a half dozen heavily armoured soldiers.
“Emissary,” Amalda replied cordially, fixing the emissary with an unblinking stare.
The emissary fidgeted uncomfortably and began to sweat, “My Lady, as you are the party to request this meeting, perhaps it would be best if you were to go first?”
Amalda smiled coldly, “Very well. I was considering the possibility for another exchange of resources.”
The emissary seemed surprised, “You would be willing to train more Necromancers?” He asked with barely suppressed excitement.
“Perhaps,” Amalda lied, “Provided the exchange is favourable to my interests.”
“How many?!” The emissary asked eagerly before becoming embarrassed and reigning in his eagerness, “How many Slaves do you require? And how many Necromancers may we expect in exchange?”
Amalda felt one of the nearby sources of lifeforce begin to rapidly fade. “I will require greater materials this time,” She explained slowly, doing her best to deliberately dominate the attention of the emissary and his guards.
The emissary seemed confused for a moment but rallied almost immediately, “I am sure it can be arranged. My Lady needs only tell me what it is you require, and I shall endeavour to secure it for you.”
Amalda smiled coldly as two more lives were snuffed out, “I think there has been a misunderstanding. No, I know that there has been,” she activated her Necrotic Aura and made a show of stepping back from the emissary.
“Wh-What are you doing?!” The emissary shrieked as his pale flesh began to wither away.
His guards cursed and took a firm hold of him while hurrying back towards the ruined tower.
Amalda deactivated her Necrotic Aura and waited patiently as the cries of alarm and terror erupted from the tower.
After less than a minute, the emissary and all of his guards filed obediently out of the broken tower behind Liz, each and every one of them turned into lesser Vampyrs. Creating them would have cost a decent amount of her mana, but making them so weak to begin with would have saved her a great deal.
“Figured we should go in with some relatively elite fodder before you let loose some zombies,” Liz explained with a bloody grin. “If we hit them in the middle of the night, there won’t be anything they can do to stop us!”
Amalda nodded, “Perhaps we could widen the scope of our original plan slightly?” She suggested while considering the former emissary now turned Vampyr, “Since we are betraying the Werrian Empire anyway, why not make sure they won’t be able to retaliate?”
Liz’ grin grew unnaturally wide, her dark eyes taking on a reddish hue, “You mean like unleashing a real zombie apocalypse?”
“That’s exactly what I mean,” Amalda agreed, a deep hunger of her own growing at the prospect of devouring so many souls.
“Fuckem, let's do it!” Liz agreed eagerly, “Where do we hit first?”
Amalda turned to the former emissary, “I don’t know. Why don’t we ask your new pet?”
Amalda and Liz both stared expectantly at the former emissary of the Werrian Empire. Far from being offended, the newly reborn Vampyr appeared overjoyed to serve.
And why shouldn’t he be? Amalda mused to herself, he had just been elevated from the bottom of a very violent food chain.