The First Lich Lord

Chapter 15

When we reached the bottom of the stairs, not only was the light more oppressive, there was a smell. A pungent stench of blood filled the entire zone. There was also a barely audible rhythmic clanging in the distance. We were still observing our new surroundings when the first attack came.

Four cultists, wearing robes of black and red, and wielding blades made of red metal, surprised us.

They were faster than me, and I found myself being pressed back by two of the cultists while the other two pressed Friar Brown. I needed to somehow protect the friar to give him time to cast, but my opponents were almost more than I could handle. I kept Mercy moving, constantly blocking attacks and slashing in retaliation.

Occasionally I would score a cut, but the robes were somewhat resistant to being cut and often turned aside Mercys sharp blade. On the other hand, I couldnt block every attack, and my robes were soon torn to shreds.

Why dont you bleed? one of the cultists hissed as his blade withdrew from my rib cage. I was pretty certain he just barely missed the powerful death core at my center.

Why dont you have a conscience? I demanded. What type of deranged lunatic worships a blood god?

The man snarled and continued to attack. I was driven away from Friar Brown, and found the wall at my back. A glance in the friars direction filled me with surpriseone of the cultists lay on the ground, and the friars staff had a smear of blood on it. The second cultist was trying to get to him, but a barrier of gray energy repelled his every attempt.

My momentary distraction enabled the cultists I was fighting to strike undeterred. If I had been a living being, this wouldve killed me, but fortunately I was not. Their particular swords were closer to rapiers, and the light blades lacked the striking power to cause true damage against my skeletal form.

Still, as they drove their blades through my rib cage, and I hissed in pain as the sharp edges cut into my ribs, it was made painfully apparent that I wasnt immortal. If they managed to destroy the core at my center, I would die and come back in my phylactery stashed in Friar Browns cart. That would complicate things. Fortunately, they missed.

They were surprised when I didnt die and brought Mercy down on them. Their arms were too close for me to target, so I went for their legs in a sweeping blow. Mercy bit into the leg of the cultist on my right. I didnt have the leverage to cut all the way through, but the blade sliced through flesh and bit into the bone.

The cultist screamed in pain as he yanked his blade free and fell back, limping. The other cultist reacted quickly and withdrew his blade, putting distance between us.

You call us monsters. What must you be to survive that, undead? the cultist who had spoken before sneered.

I guess youll never know, I said.

I pressed the wounded cultist the hardest, only defending against the other one. I had to take advantage of his wound before he recovered. Taking a risk, I exposed my back to the unwounded cultist and plunged Mercy into the chest of the wounded one. The sharp blade punched through his robe and out his back. The man gasped and slumped. I let him slide off the blade even as I felt a stabbing pain in my back as the second cultist slashed me.

To my horror, he managed to cut through one of my ribs, and the black bone clattered to the ground, no longer affected by my illusion.

The cultists leapt back. Youre a skeleton!

I whirled and capitalized on his shock. I let the illusion fade around my head and sneered at him.

I am no mere skeleton. Im a Lich. I hissed the last part, enjoying the horror spreading across his face. I struck quickly and removed his head from his shoulders before he could recover.

I reestablished my illusion and turned to help Friar Brown, but the cultists hed been fighting were already dead. He was giving me an appraising look, and I wondered how long hed been watching.

These are a lot tougher, arent they? he asked.

I tried not to let my relief show when that was all he asked. They sure are. Im stealing one of these robes, they seem to offer some pretty good resistance to slashing.

Good call. Your travel robes dont seem to be in great shape anymore. Friar Brown chuckled.

I retrieved a robe, and as I did, a restoration spell from Friar Brown repaired the small amounts of damage Id taken, even my broken rib was restored. We piled the weapons near the stairs, promising ourselves to retrieve them on our way back.

Is there something special about these? I asked.

They are lesser blood weapons, Friar Brown explained. The one Nicholas wielded was a step above these.

How many grades of blood weapons are there? Id assumed there were only the ones hed spoken of.

There are four grades, Friar Brown began to explain as we headed down the corridor leading out of the room. The lesser ones, like these fools wielded, are the most common. Many of the lieutenants and low-ranked officers within the armies we fought wielded them. The next grade is common, what Nicholas had. Only captains and above ever wielded them in the military, and they often can have abilities like you saw Nicholas use.

Superior is the third grade, and is significantly more powerful. Such strength was normally only used by their special operations forces. The weapons could be designed for specific purposes and had very powerful abilities. There are technically many more steps between the superior grade and the next, but that is a subjective argument, so we just called everything more powerful than a third grade, fourth grade. And while generals wielded fourth grade weapons, the difference between one in the hands of a general and that of a monarch, was vast.

What was the fourth grade called? I asked.

True blood. The weapons themselves could affect the users and change them due to the presence of powerful soul magic in the weapon. This is more common with less powerful fourth grade weapons because of the unrefined nature of the magic contained within them. Some say there should be a separate tier for the weapons wielded by monarchs, a fifth grade, as those weapons could devastate entire battlefields under such potential.

Heres to hoping we dont ever come across a true blood weapon, I said.

The corridor was flat, a nice change from the constant slopes above. The red light filled the space with haunting shadows cast by the grotesque statues lining the way.

If we come across a true blood weapon, we will be in trouble, Friar Brown agreed. Even a superior blood weapon will be difficult to deal with.

As we moved, the distant pounding tone became louder. That sound is making me uneasy.

With good reason, Friar Brown agreed. With the sacrifices, they likely have the power to create a true blood weapon, assuming the smith knows how.

His words gave us urgency to move faster.

We came to a room with two exits, and were met by four more cultists. I tried to place myself between Friar Brown and the cultists.

Any thoughts about how we can improve this time? I asked.

I have a spell that can help. Just buy me enough time for me to cast it.

Will do. Three of the cultists wielded the rapier-like weapons, while the fourth, much to my chagrin, held a mace. Though, if I didnt miss my guess, they were all still first-grade weapons.

The mace was the greatest threat, so I focused on him. The robes Id stolen made their slashing weapons all but useless against me. They still stung when they landed a solid blow, but I was able to pay them less attention. The mace on the other hand was about the perfect weapon for fighting a skeleton.

He was a skilled fighter, and often danced outside the reach of my blade. Occasionally, one of the cultists would try and slip past me, but I always managed to trip them up and draw their attention back to me.

Friar Brown was chanting something behind me, and it didnt take long for him to finish the spell. Though in that time, the mace wielder managed to land a solid blow, staggering me back. Gray light filled me and my body grew in strength. Friar Brown had cast an enhancement spell, and by the feel of it, a very powerful one. I was impressed he knew such a powerful spell, though I was beginning to accept there were things about the friar that just didnt add up.

One of the disadvantages of enhancement spells was their increased ability beyond their natural capacity. For many, this meant they suddenly had strength they did not before, and unfortunately didnt know how to use to its full potential. I did not struggle with that. My previous experience with far more powerful bodies helped me to maximize the effect of his spell.

I caught myself and rushed the mace-wielding cultist, reshaping Mercy into a long straight blade. This was ideal for stabbing, and I quickly perforated his chest, then ripped through his side, opening a gaping, bloody wound. The fabric of his robe resisted being cut enough that I still had to pull Mercy back before moving on.

Leaving the mortally wounded cultist to die, I pounced on the others. They hadnt been idle as I filled their friend full of holes, but my enhanced speed enabled me to deflect many of their blows. That, combined with my skeletal form and cloak, meant I took on very little damage.

Two of the cultists attacked me, while the third moved in on Friar Brown.

They realized too late how ineffective their rapiers were. I let attacks land that I otherwise shouldve blocked, giving myself openings. I was able to disembowel one, before running my blade through the neck of the other. Slashing my blade to the side, I all but decapitated him. Then I mercifully killed the man whose intestines had spilled onto the floor.

Friar Brown had promptly smashed in the skull of the cultist who attacked him. His spell faded away, and a few seconds later the world returned to normal. I hadnt even realized just how smooth the transition had been. Most of the time, enhancement spells generated a moment of disorientation as your perception and body sped up. Friar Browns hadnt been that way.

Thats quite the spell, I said. Any reason we havent used it before?

Friar Brown took on a sheepish look. Any chance you would believe me if I said I forgot about it?

I snorted. Not really. Something about the friar was increasingly out of place, but this wasnt the time to ask him. His knowledge about what happened in the past seemed too accurate for it to be of something he merely read.

Once again, we gathered up their weapons before deciding in which direction to head. Listening for the sound of pounding, we picked the tunnel to the right and continued deeper.

We came across a couple more groups of cultists, the fights going much the same way. The hardest resistance was when the cultists wielded maces. Their punishing blows had driven me to my knees before Friar Brown completed his spell. Id taken extensive damage and wasnt able to move to my full potential. Fortunately, Friar Brown had been able to cast a restoration spell in the middle of the fight, bringing me back to full strength.

The final room had an elaborate door at its back, and the pounding had grown into a clang of metal filling the entire circular area. Runes were carved into the floor, and statues of horrific scenes were spaced around it. Three cultists, two men and a woman, stood in the middle, each wielding powerful second grade weapons with a glowing gem mounted into them. The men wielded heavy axes, while the woman in the middle held a long sword.

Friar Brown, too good of you to join us, the woman purred.

Why, Julia? Friar Brown pleaded. You had a good life. You had children who loved you and a husband who was well-respectedand you gave it up for this. He gestured around.

Julia smirked. Who do you think is the smith? Soon, he will forge a weapon that will allow us to retake our place as the rightful rulers of this land. As for my children, they are the key ingredient in building the weapon of our salvation.

It took a second for her words to sink in. You sacrificed your own children?

Of course I did. Julia let out a cruel laugh. Why else would I have gone through eighteen months of torture for those brats?

I just stood in shock. Even though this had once been a game, this was a seriously fucked up storyline.

Friar Brown let out a long sigh, magic building around him. I will make sure their souls are at rest. He completed his spell far quicker than he had before, and my body began to speed up.

I rushed at the cultists as Friar Brown began to build another spell. I let the rage consume me. What this woman had done was beyond monstrousit was nothing but pure evil. Mercy landed a deep cut into the shoulder of one of the ax-wielding cultists, eliciting a groan of pain.

Using Mercys shaft, I redirected a blow from the second ax-wielding cultist, just as Julia made a beeline for Friar Brown. I jumped back and fell into a defensive position. I guessed my strength and speed were about equivalent to their own thanks to Friar Browns spell. The biggest difference came down to their numbers versus my training.

One of the axes glowed, and I interposed Mercy between me and the incoming attack. My teeth chattered against the weight of the heavy blade. When the shaft of my blade-staff held, his surprised reaction gave me an opening to drive my blade through his stomach.

The man growled as I yanked Mercy free, twisting it. The robes they wore were different from the ones the other cultists wore. Not only did they seem harder to puncture, but the wound left behind only bled for a second before the robe bound it on its own.

I danced between the two fighters, landing blows where I could, but each time I wounded them, the robe would do its best to repair the damage. As the fight continued, I risked a glance to Friar Brown. Julias long sword was crossed against his staff, a glowing red light surrounding her as a pure white light came from Friar Brown.

The robes around the cultists grew tighterthere was a limit to how much they could heal. Question was, would they reach that limit before my spell ran out? I had to act quickly. The enhancement spell, while powerful, did not last for long, and Friar Brown was clearly too occupied to help me.

Diving between two blows, I let one land on my side, cracking my rib cage. Thanks to that painful sacrifice, I was able to drive Mercy straight through the heart of the cultist who landed the blow. He gasped and clutched at the shaft of my weapon. I spun away, leaving him impaled and slumping to the ground.

I was now weaponless and fell back before the remaining cultist. I tried to circle back to Mercy, but it was clear he knew what I was trying to do. I glanced at Friar BrownJulia was on a knee before him pushing back against a pillar of white magic.

He was still too focused on his own fight to help me. I reached out toward Mercy and was surprised when I felt it. Id done this out of instinct, seeking an ability I once had. With a yank, I brought Mercy flying into my hand and relished in the cultists disbelief at the sudden reappearance of my weapon.

As Mercy returned to me, the enhancement spell faded. Fighting these cultists on my own wouldve been hard, and even though I was now much weaker, I was still a match for the cultist thanks to my skill with the blade-staff. I stabbed, cut, and deflected his heavy blows.

He tried to use his special attack several times, but each one I stopped cold with Mercy. After a thousand cuts, he finally died. Looking back at Friar Brown, he was now watching me. Julia was no more. I didnt even see remnants of her.

Friar Brown and I needed to have a long talk when we were done here.