Riza marvelled at the sight before her, "The corpses look remarkably intact," she observed, her voice echoing softly in the dimly lit space. Daven manoeuvred the wagons laden with bodies from the concealed alcove hidden behind the earthen graveyard walls. A faint, musty odour permeated the air, underscored by lingering notes of decay.
Riza had initially thought the location ideal, but she hadn't anticipated the daily influx of grieving visitors to the graveyard, necessitating the transportation of the bodies through recently excavated tunnels.
Daven grunted, beads of sweat forming on his brow as his muscles strained under the weight of the heavy wagon. Observing his struggle, Riza stepped in with her vastly superior strength, her movements fluid and graceful as she pulled the wagon effortlessly. "Why did I even try?" Daven muttered to himself, shaking his head, a wry smile flickering across his face as he joined Riza in a mostly symbolic effort, now mostly focusing on holding the everlight torch.
He cleared his throat, his voice echoing down the tunnel as he explained, "I hadn't heard of any work being done on the bodies, but I found them one day, looking worse for wear. Since then, I've been using [Senescence] periodically to preserve them, keeping them in the same state as when they passed." A touch of pride coloured his words, revealing his dedication to the task.
"That's... commendable," Riza praised, her voice tinged with a mixture of surprise and admiration. Internally, she rationalised that her own preoccupations must have caused her to overlook the care of the corpses.
The tunnels Daven had carved were a marvel in themselves, the walls smooth to the touch and sloping gently downward, designed with the movement of wagons in mind. They twisted and curved in a helical pattern, the shadows cast by the flickering torchlight creating a mesmerising dance along the stone walls. This gradual descent, of limited width and expertly engineered, wound its way down the mountain to ensure the safe transportation of the bodies to their final resting place.
He was improving, day by day.
Yet, tunnel excavation wasn't his only area of expertise. The so-called 'Lord's Hall' neared completion under his guidance, and the granary he was constructing progressed steadily as well. Both structures boasted the architectural style of the ancient buildings found in the affluent district, their brick facades and metal frames distinguishing them from the common stone and wood constructions that dominated the cityscape.
Riza too was advancing in her own right. Daven’s suspicions were indeed correct; there was a skill that allowed for communication with the dead. Unfortunately, it was exorbitantly expensive and unless Riza felt like culling hundreds of demons to raise a level twenty-five humanoid demon to do her bidding, that was another set of skill points she had personally spent to accomplish her task.
Another situation that moved [Perfect Body] further out of reach.
Hidden Skill
[Last Words] (10/10)
[Speak with Dead] (10/10)+ -Learned
Communicate with an entity that has died within the last 40 days
Cost: 100 es/sec
What Riza really needed was a way to swap skills around rather than them being permanent. Then, she’d need to level just one person up to a high level rather than a new person each time there was a skill she wanted to use.
However, it wasn’t all doom and gloom as level ups were in fact a joyous thing, Riza kept having to remind herself.
Not only was she now level 45, and that had meant another boon had become available to her, but she had also connected a tunnel system to the zone of life so all the demons she killed for her precious level ups could be as profitable as possible in combination with [Essential Leech].
And what that meant was a grand total of nearly 10,000 stat points borne to her over the last five levels.
At last, they reached the end of the descending ramp, the tunnel giving way to a spacious chamber replete with multiple ventilation shafts leading to the surface. Daven had wisely anticipated the need for fresh air circulation, as an underground room filled with dead bodies was unlikely to emit a pleasant aroma.
"Time to start with the first one," Riza declared, her determined footsteps echoing through the chamber as she circled the worn wagon. With her remarkable strength, she hoisted a body single-handedly and carried it to a cleared area at the centre of the room.
In the meantime, Daven approached a desk and chair, both crafted from smooth, dense earth, and retrieved a notebook. Among the various ways he spent his scarce free time was learning literacy under Meren's tutelage. A fleeting thought crossed Riza's mind, suggesting that the two seemed to spend a considerable amount of time together, but she quickly dismissed it.
Daven's task was to document the relevant portions of the ensuing conversations, such as the identity of each individual and whether they genuinely desired resurrection.
Riza's experience with [Speak with Dead] had primarily involved animals and beast demons, honing the skill up to level 10. While they made poor conversation partners, she felt no moral reservations about using the skill on them.
As for testing the skill on a human and observing its effects, Riza had enlisted the help of a particularly unwilling test subject who, nonetheless, provided valuable experience. She proceeded with the first body, placing her hands gently on the young woman's temples and feeling the essence flow through her.
In many ways, the skill functioned similarly to [Message], enabling Riza to adapt to its use rather quickly. The dialogue was swift and comprehensive, following a pre-prepared script of questions. Daven took notes diligently, and Riza observed that death seemed to temper the religious fervour she suspected many citizens possessed.
Before delving into these conversations, an intriguing question arose regarding the interaction between [Senescence] and time-limited skills. If [Resurrection] only worked on bodies up to a day old, and [Senescence] was applied to a two-day-old body, reverting it to mere minutes post-mortem, would [Resurrection] be effective? This question piqued Riza's interest, and together with Daven, they conducted a series of experiments. Ultimately, they concluded that, regrettably, the use of [Senescence] had no bearing on the efficacy of other time-restricted skills.
The young woman's comprehension of the situation was remarkably lucid and eerily serene. Riza felt as though she were conversing with a mechanical replica of the woman, rather than the person herself. Her tone was monotone and robotic, her thoughts and emotions seemingly drawn from a reference book instead of deeply held convictions.
Riza couldn't shake the sensation that it wasn't the woman's soul she was speaking to, but rather an imitation, created to facilitate the skill's function. Further evidence for this notion came from Riza's experiments; she knew that once resurrected, as the woman had confirmed her desire for it, she would recall nothing of the events transpiring between her death and eventual revival.
Daven jotted down this information as Riza finished her conversation and carefully moved the woman aside. The wagon contained dozens of bodies, but this represented only a small fraction of the individuals awaiting attention. Hundreds of the deceased lay in wait near the graveyard, and Riza sighed, steeling herself for the long hours that lay ahead.
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For the first time in her life, Riza had the chance to obtain a boon but didn’t.
It had only been a couple weeks since her last boon at level 35, and she was still working out the kinks of how the communication aspect worked. So far, the eye demons slipped into that ability as easily as a hand into a glove, which was no surprise, and Tiffany was currently working on it in her free time as well, although as a humanoid demon, Riza doubted how effective that would be.
Even ignoring the fact that her last boon wasn’t that long ago, Riza didn’t have a weakness she was desperate to shore up this time. Her essence regeneration was near limitless and easily expandable, and her skills were strong enough as is. Another boon actually felt excessive, especially considering what the new boons available to her were.
Hidden Boon
[Bastion of Life]
Requirement: Spend 24 hours in a life infused area
Effect: Life skills are 100% more effective. Gain a skill point for Life skills
Hidden Boon
[Endless Font of Essence]
Requirement: Gain 10000 essence a second
Effect: Entities within 10 metres gain 10% of essence you regenerate
Hidden Boon
[Way of Primordial Strength]
Requirement: Two Primordial Strength skills (10/10)
Effect: All Primordial Strength skills are 2 times as effective
Hidden Boon
[Titan Killer]
Requirement: Kill an entity with at least 1000000 health
Effect: Skills are 100% more effective against entities with at least 1000000 health
Hidden Boon
[Free Faller]
Requirement: Fall from over 100 metres and survive
Effect: Experience 10% damage from falling
The first one was interesting, as the zone of life wasn’t the only essence zone Riza knew of.
The long-neglected Jupy surged to the forefront of Riza’s mind. Ever since killing Death, Jupy’s level cap had increased to 45, although he had gained no levels since. It was a little disconcerting that killing an actual person had the same effect as killing a high-level demon but Riza breezed over that fact, not wanting to spend much time thinking about it.
Jupy had the one thing Riza couldn’t reliably replicate at this moment in time; a high-level cap and total control over his levels. That made him more appealing than one of the lightning humanoid demons that lived in the Demon Lord’s nest, or raising a new demon from scratch, gaining [Delegator] stats in exchange for a lack of boons and levels.
Currently at level 25, that meant two boons were available to him and if he took [Gestalt of Lightning] and [Bastion of Lightning], in combination with [Source of Spirit] and [Root of Spirit]. He could be a powerful long-ranged attacker, a force that would’ve been very helpful when fighting against the Demon Lord.
The experience needed for all those levels were expensive, but it was something to keep in mind.
[Titan Killer] only showed up after she had killed the Demon Lord and not the worm so she harboured a suspicion that only the one who dealt the killing blow received that boon, although she’d have to see if it was available to Lefie for the worm once she levelled up a bit.
In addition to all these new boons, the only previous boon she was remotely interested in was [Gestalt of Life]
Hidden Boon
[Gestalt of Life]
Requirements: [Way of Life] and ten Life skills (10/10)
Effect: Upgraded and passive Life skills can be levelled. Gain a skill point for Life skills
Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.
It was still incredibly powerful but power wasn’t something she was lacking currently.
And, in lieu of all the skill points she had in her future, it seemed less than wise to take a boon before all of the possible options were revealed to her, so in reserve they stayed.
Just in case, she had experimented with a level five humanoid demon and did confirm that even without obtaining a boon, she could still level up.
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As the mountain range awoke from its winter slumber, it welcomed the tender caress of spring's first breath. The majestic peaks, adorned with remnants of crystalline snow, reached ever skyward, as if in communion with the heavens above. Below, a dense veil of mist swallowed the world, leaving only the intricately carved steps ascending towards the summit as the sole sanctuary in this ethereal landscape.
With the arrival of spring, the snow graciously retreated, unveiling a hidden tapestry of colour and life. Rivulets of water cascaded down the mountainside, while verdant moss and lichen clung to the rocks like nature's jewels. Scattered alpine blossoms pierced the melting snow, adding bursts of vibrant hues to the undulating terrain.
At this breath-taking altitude, the air thinned and the wind whispered secrets, intensifying the feeling of isolation. The world beneath the mist seemed like a fading memory, as the journey ahead persisted along the sculpted steps, ascending ever onward and upward towards the enigmatic summit.
This was higher than Riza had ever climbed on the mountain, and only when perched upon the apex of the black tower did she experience a comparable sense of vastness.
Meanwhile, Rosetta tirelessly laboured, having completed the translation of all documents unearthed from the mine that Daven and Nessy had excavated. Now, he delved into the mysteries of the Demon Lord's nest. The mine, though mundane in appearance, was a combined geological research station and mining operation. Its purpose was twofold: to extract precious resources and to decipher the stories locked within the ancient stones.
The world, according to their findings, was at least several millennia old and bore a striking resemblance to Earth, with no hidden or unknown elements concealed within its crust. This realisation was hardly surprising to Riza, as the formation of planets through known phenomena meant that a world capable of sustaining human life was likely to bear similarities to Earth.
However, the Demon Lord's nest was far from ordinary. Within its depths, Riza uncovered a diverse seed vault to bolster Eorin's agricultural endeavours. She also discovered that the nest was much more interconnected with the city than she initially surmised.
Riza had noticed the wealthy district's access to electricity, which powered lights, trams, and even moving platforms, but had never delved deeply into its origins. Upon further investigation, she found that no one knew the source of this power, and her own inquiries yielded nothing. It was only the documents from the subterranean bunker beneath the city that unveiled the complex electrical system that connected them and the mysterious source of their electricity. Unsurprisingly, there were generators in the nest, albeit offline. Additionally, she uncovered reports of generators located atop the mountain range, although Rosetta was still diligently working to finalise the translation of these documents.
As Riza ascended the final few steps, she revelled in her extraordinary physical fitness, bestowed by the magic of this world. She reached the culmination of the seemingly endless staircase and found herself on a levelled stretch of land, nestled between two towering peaks of the mountain range.
This secluded clearing, high above the world below, was draped in a pristine, white blanket of snow, a testament to the frigid temperatures that ruled these heights. Off to one side of the clearing, a small, box-like metal building stood, its windows obscured by a layer of frost that concealed the interior from view.
Beside the structure, an impressive array of turbines stretched horizontally across the landscape, their blades reaching further back behind the mountain's face. Smaller in stature than their Earth-bound counterparts, these turbines were clearly meticulously crafted and arranged by hand, rather than by the immense machines that fashioned the colossal ones on Earth. Despite their more modest size, they still dwarfed even the grand manor houses of the city's affluent district below.
Undeterred by the fierce, biting winds that whipped around Riza, the turbines spun with relentless vigour, their thick cables connecting them to the metal building on the right. Pausing for a moment, Riza took in the sight before her, savouring the beauty of the technology that she cherished so dearly in this otherwise primitive world.
Approaching the building, Riza tested the door, finding it locked as anticipated. Though she possessed the strength to force her way in by breaking down the door, she deemed such actions imprudent when subtler, more efficient methods were at her disposal.
Regardless, she had already achieved her objective by beholding the impressive turbines. This discovery resolved one enigma while simultaneously providing a foundation for her future endeavours. With no further reason to linger in this frigid, isolated location, Riza turned her attention to the long, arduous descent that awaited her.
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A woman's stomach growled as she traversed the circular cobblestone streets of the city's centre. Though the massive black stone tower marked her location, an everyday sight that hardly garnered a second glance, she instead thought fondly of the nearby clinic, a testament to the city Lord's benevolence; her arm, after a particularly bad sprain, was as good as new when she had visited them.
As she continued on her path, she noticed a growing throng of people heading in the same direction, their murmurs and excited chatter drawing her further in. Were they here for the same reason as herself? Her curiosity piqued, she soon found herself standing before an impressive edifice of brick and metal. Its construction resembled the grand houses of the Prospect District, a place she had only heard about in passing, its luxuries a far cry from her life.
She marvelled at the sheer size and beauty of the structure, awestruck by the fact that a single man had erected it in mere days, the rumours went.
Two massive doors opened before the crowd, leading the way inside the grand structure. The building was spacious enough to accommodate the multitude of visitors, and as the woman stepped inside, the lofty, vaulted ceiling lent a dignified air to the place, with echoes of voices filling the expansive hall.
However, it was not the incoherent murmurs that resonated within the vast space but a potent, booming voice that was only amplified by the building's architecture. Words of gratitude and respect rang throughout, as the deep, bellowing voice of a man spoke loudly and authoritatively, praising the Lord for her deeds, past and future.
To the woman, this fervent adulation seemed unwarranted; the Lord was just a Lord, after all. Although she harboured a vague unease about the absence of any mention of Skaldur, she chose to dismiss those concerns.
As she followed the crowd, the sermons gradually softened, and she shuffled past tables and benches toward a counter where the tantalising aroma of food greeted her with an almost overwhelming intensity. Before her, several aproned individuals were dishing out servings to the people lining up beside her. Eagerly, she grabbed a bowl and tray, confirming the rumours she had heard: the Lord had indeed established a food hall.
But this was no ordinary food hall. In addition to the bland soups and stews typically offered, an array of delectable dishes was available—casseroles, sandwiches, stir-fries, salads, and many others, all freshly prepared and waiting to be devoured. As she approached the counter, a man dressed in the Lord's service asked her what she would like to eat.
Struggling to contain her excitement, the woman hastily requested a sandwich, a 'burger'—an invention of the Lord, she learned—and a salad. To her amazement, no limits were placed on her selections. It seemed as though she could have an infinite amount of food!
Unfortunately, the bounty did have its restrictions. As she proceeded along the counter, the mouth-watering aroma of cooked meats filled her nostrils. Here, she discovered the constraint: although she could choose from an array of meat dishes, she was allowed only one. Recognizing that even the Lord had limitations, she opted for the familiar stew.
With her tray in hand, the woman stepped back and surveyed the scene, taking a moment to reorient herself amidst the gastronomic excitement. She walked a short distance and settled onto a cold, hard wooden bench. Unadorned and simple, it reminded her of the humble furniture she owned at home.
Sitting down, the woman eagerly spooned the warm stew into her mouth. As the echoing voice rang out once more, she found herself beginning to comprehend the source of such ardent praise. In fact, she felt almost inclined to join in herself.
Instead, she slid along the bench to get closer to the man whose words filled the hall. As she neared, she observed that part of the hall was not meant for dining but rather was arranged with benches facing forward and a podium at the head. Standing behind the podium was a man she recognized with wide-eyed disbelief.
Breannus? The thought raced through her mind. She hadn't heard from him since he had fallen ill and had assumed he had succumbed to the deadly sickness. Yet there he stood, looking as robust as ever.
Now that she was closer and could better hear his words, she became as engrossed in his sermons as the rest of the gathered crowd. His praise was not empty or non-specific. He shared stories of himself and others, of children brought to the clinic on the brink of death, only to experience the warmth and power of the Lord. He described how she breathed life into the most gravely ill, sometimes tending to them personally. He spoke of her swift management of the riots incited by rogue Lord's Men, who had sought to tarnish her name and sow discord. He recounted how she put the wrongdoers to work, transforming them into instruments of good for the city they had once harmed.
These praises were substantial, filled with evidence that gave the woman pause for thought. Could it be that the Lord had genuinely accomplished so much?
But, according to Breannus, there was more to come—great things on the horizon. Everyone needed to be prepared. As he spoke reverently about the Lord and shared knowledge no one else had, the woman began to reconsider her earlier scepticism. Perhaps the Lord truly did deserve more respect than she had been willing to offer.
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A sudden knock at the door interrupted Riza, compelling her to put down her stylus and stretch her aching back. Her bones clicked from hours spent hunched over the parchment. The crude diagram before her held little value, but it had served its purpose, dredging up long-forgotten knowledge like lubricant for the rusty gears in her mind.
"Enter," Riza said wearily, her mental fatigue seeping into her voice.
Andreya stepped inside, her silken dress lending her an air of dignity. Riza had requested that her group refrain from wearing any Ancient garments, finding it difficult to take them seriously in such anachronistic attire.
"It's Breannus," Andreya informed her, referring to the man at the forefront of Riza's religious sentiment campaign. Since being brought on board, he had been tirelessly spreading their message and had recently ascended to a position where his charismatic talents reached a broader audience.
After all, who would be more open to hearing praises of the Lord than those filling their hungry bellies with food provided by the Lord herself?
"What is it?" Riza inquired.
"Nadarthal is dead," Andreya replied tersely, leaving no room for further elaboration.
The room's atmosphere shifted, becoming sombre and heavy. Nadarthal had been an ordinary man afflicted with an illness that Riza's clinic could have cured. Yet, at her request, he had chosen to succumb to the disease instead. A few of Breannus's inner circle had made similar sacrifices, their deaths marking the dawn of a new era.
So it begins.
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The woman shifted uneasily among the throng, suppressing a burp that threatened to escape, the delectable food she had just consumed sitting heavily in her stomach. The Lord's Hall, as on the first day, teemed with people, enticing dishes, and the sense that half the city was present, clamouring for a taste of something new and scrumptious.
Breannus captivated the audience as always, regaling them with tales of the Lord, her deeds, and her capabilities. The woman had heard most of the stories before, but she remained spellbound by Breannus' oratorical skills. As he expounded on the myriad changes the Lord planned to implement, the woman was fascinated by the possibilities. Even someone initially sceptical of their benevolent ruler couldn't help but feel hope swelling within.
Thus, the Lord's Hall was a hub of activity, perpetually bustling and never dull. When the call came for the city's residents to assemble at the city centre, before the tower, it seemed the entire population gathered—or at least it felt that way. There was no empty space, every available area filled with people, children perched on parents' shoulders, and streets and alleyways overflowing with residents.
The woman marvelled at the sheer number of people, the scale of the city suddenly more immense than she had ever truly grasped before. Hushed conversations and murmurs rippled through the crowd as they awaited the announcement.
Whispers circulated, and then hands pointed skyward, heads craning as hundreds of people simultaneously focused on the heavens. A tiny speck, growing larger by the moment, plummeted earthward, streaking down the side of the tower. As it drew closer, a puff of pure white brilliance erupted below it, followed by a thunderous crash that echoed off the surrounding buildings and momentarily deafened everyone nearby.
Another puff of white, then another, and steps materialised from the clouds above. A woman of shorter stature, her golden hair resplendent, descended the steps to stand before the awestruck, silent crowd on a raised stone platform that had appeared earlier that day.
The crowd remained motionless, the silence so complete that even a mouse's whisper would have resounded. The woman's own heartbeat thundered in her ears, as deafening as the crash and threatening to distract her.
Then the Lord spoke.
"I am your Lord!" she proclaimed, her voice echoing off the walls and the ground, reaching every ear. The woman could feel the reverent energy emanating from some of the residents, the excitement of seeing their esteemed Lord in person. She herself couldn't ignore the heat rising in her cheeks, the sweat beading on her arms, and the moment growing heavier with each passing second.
"I have given you the clinic to heal your ailments," the Lord declared, gesturing toward the medical building. "And I have provided a house for you to enjoy as much delicious food as you desire," she added, indicating the Lord's Hall behind them.
"But this is just the beginning! You are all special, for you are my people," the Lord said resolutely, and the woman felt her heart swell with warmth. "And I protect my people, for nothing is beyond my reach!"
In response to her words, the crowd shifted, jostling the woman momentarily. A figure emerged from the throng, ascending the platform to stand beside the Lord. This newcomer was a tall, strong woman dressed in finely tailored clothes that accentuated her muscular frame. In her arms, she carried the lifeless body of a man.
A stone bed suddenly materialised on the platform, extruded from the ground itself, and the woman gently placed the man upon it. "Nadarthal was a good man," the Lord continued, and the woman's heart lurched in recognition. "He was a carpenter who repaired countless homes and pieces of furniture. He was among the many who helped rebuild this city after the riots and looting.
"Sadly, he was afflicted with a relentless sickness. Despite his strength and determination, even he could not overcome the harsh realities of illness. In his death, he leaves behind his wife and two children, now forced to fend for themselves.
"Isn't that unfair? To be taken from his family so soon, leaving them to face life alone? Isn't it... cruel?
"Nadarthal was a resident of this city, and that makes him special—one of my people. So I tell you today," the Lord's voice reverberated with a power that caused the woman's hands to grow clammy and sent a warm, almost magical energy surging through her. "Nothing will stop me from protecting my people. Not even death itself!"
The Lord's hands shot downward, pressing firmly on Nadarthal's chest. The crowd watched in awe-struck silence as half a minute passed, until suddenly Nadarthal's hand shot into the air. His chest heaved with laboured breaths, and life returned to his body.
The crowd erupted into pandemonium, their fervent shouts drowning out whatever the Lord attempted to say next as Nadarthal sat upright, appearing anything but lifeless. The Lord attempted to wait for the crowd to quiet down, but even minutes later, their uproar persisted, and she finally raised her voice to cut through the din.
"I am heralding a new age—one without starvation, disease, or untimely deaths!" she announced to the city, her words leaving the woman in disbelief even after witnessing the miracle.
"Those of you who believe that your life still holds purpose, that your time has not yet come, make your way to the clinic! Declare your desire for my aid, and together, I will ensure you live a full and wondrous life!"
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Riza's feet felt like lead as she shuffled into the bedroom, her bare feet dragging across the plush carpet as if she were a zombie guided by nothing more than instinct. Her hands trembled, and sweat drenched her entire body. Her heart raced so much that she feared collapsing in front of the crowd during her speech, grateful that she had found the resolve to continue.
The script she had bellowed with all her might had been practised so frequently that it was the only reason she managed to get through the evening unscathed. She hadn't yet received any reports from the clinic, but judging by the crowd's reaction, she suspected that her free time would be scarce for a while.
Now, at last, it was time to right the wrongs of the past.