From Tonberg's abandoned streets, it seemed as if some long-forgotten God was being born with the castle as its stone womb. When the Flesh Golem reached its final height of 50 feet, there was scarcely anything left of the castle's ornate rooftop. Towers and battlements crumbled as shelves of the fortress were wiped clean by the abomination's movements.
Sokalar observed the chaos from the shallow plaza leading up to the first gatehouse. Lüngen could only guess at the Lich's reaction - there was no telling whether his silence portended rational strategy or thoughtless murder. Lüngen pulled a handkerchief from his waistline and dappled the beads of sweat forming on his cheeks.
"A Flesh Golem." Sokalar broke the silence with an indifferent observation, "A specimen like that would have taken decades to create, given ideal circumstances. How could it have remained hidden all this time? And who was responsible for creating it?"
Those musings weren't for Lüngen to answer. They were simply thoughts spoken aloud - strands of the web being constructed in Sokalar's rotten head. The two of them observed the Golem in silence as its skinless limbs swept through the castle's architecture with the ease of dispelling an illusion.
Something else caught Lüngen's tired eye - a shadow against the starry night sky, larger than any of the others circling the Golem like harpies. At first, he identified its webbed wings as belonging to a Drake, but no matter how much he squinted his eyes, the creature seemed to take on a different form every time he saw it illuminated by the moonlight.
"Ignas." He pointed a fat finger skyward, "Do you see that?"
"Hm." Sokalar's voice slithered out of his throat, "A Manticore. Could it belong to Alistair?"
Enigmas ripened in the Lich's skull. He detested enigmas. Anything that could not be quantified or documented was an insult to his intelligence.
"We have no time to waste." He tapped his sceptre against the ground, "While Alistair's forces are preoccupied with the Golem, we will make our move and pull the rug out from underneath him. In the meantime, Lüngen, I would trust you with the duty of keeping an eye out for Drayya."
"Drayya?" Lüngen repeated, "Do you think-"
"-There is no doubt in my mind that she played a part in this interruption." He interrupted, "Do not waste my time further with idle questions. If you see Drayya or any of her followers, kill them immediately. Am I making myself clear?"
Lüngen withheld his displeasure and settled for frowning on the inside, though he was certain that Sokalar could pick up on it either way. His order was a test to gauge Lüngen's loyalty, and whether or not he was too volatile of an ally to be kept alive.
"Of course." Lüngen lowered his head, "It shall be done."
Lieze coughed as air rushed into her nostrils. Her grip on the Manticore's thick fur was barely enough to prevent her from being tossed straight off the creature's back. Drayya and Marché were enjoying their ride even less, forced to contend with their injuries while clinging on for dear life.
"Alistair must have escaped into the gardens!" Lieze yelled, "We can't count on the cultists to deal with him, so we'll try to cut him off!"
"What!?" Drayya's voice was lost in the turbulence, "Slow us down!"
The Manticore tempered its velocity until it was hovering in the skies above Tonberg. The constant bobbing of its body threatened to evacuate Lieze's breakfast, but it was at least possible to move around without fear of an early death.
"How are those wounds?" Lieze asked, "Neither of you are about to die, are you?"
"I've had worse…" Drayya sighed, "I've had better, too…"
Drayya's HP - 211 / 370
A quick glance at her HP confirmed that she was telling the truth. Marché was in a similar state, albeit more concerned with keeping his balance on the Manticore than anything else.
"We were foolish." Lieze said, "That spell Alistair used… it was created especially for use indoors. I can't imagine it would be half as effective out in the open."
Was that his Heavenly Favour? Lieze hadn't been able to glean the technique of the spell through sight alone. If that was the case, then by the rules imposed on the Scions, he would only be capable of using it once per day.
"You're worried about the spell he used!?" Drayya asked, "Look what you've done! How did you even manage to summon something like that!? I hope it's on our side, at the very least!"
From above, the Flesh Golem's size was even more impressive. More importantly, she could get a look at its statistics without the threat of being crushed by a loose chunk of rubble.
Supreme Flesh Golem
Level 80 Undead
HP - 26,976 / 26,976 MP - 0 / 0
BODY - 80 MIND - 0 SOUL - 0
Despite its size, it wasn't much more resilient than the Manticore. With that said, the level difference between them was astonishing, so the Golem was particularly resilient by comparison thanks to its attribute distribution.
"Sokalar will have noticed this…" Lieze muttered, "Speaking of…"
With great care, she peeked her head over the Manticore's side, scanning the southern district for signs of her father's army. The enormous procession of thralls was difficult to miss considering they were the only (un)living presence on the streets.
"We'll need some way of preventing him from using that ability we saw during the attack in the east…" She said.
"Lieze!"
Drayya's voice heralded a buck in the Manticore's posture as something flew past its body. Lieze followed the sound of rushing wind to its source: an Artificial Scion circling the beast like a bird of prey waiting to strike.
"As if I have time to waste on these royalist puppets!" Lieze slapped a palm against the Manticore's back, "Clip this foul beast's wings!"
The Artificial Scion readied its spear to sink into the Manticore's flank, descending with the intent to down the beast in a single blow. What it failed to comprehend, however, was the sheer difference in level between itself and the unseemly creature.
A tactful swipe of the Manticore's paw was all it took to eliminate the angel from the equation. Its marbled and divine visage was desecrated as feline claws shredded its flesh to ribbons. The Scion plummeted like an exile from the Heavens, wings upturned and limp.
[Artificial Scion Defeated]
32XP awarded
Lieze allowed herself to relish in the sight of its death before returning to more important matters.
"...I'm going to send the Golem to engage Sokalar's forces." She said, "It won't be able to defeat him. The most we can hope for is that the rest of the Artificial Scions will follow in its wake and capture the army in a tiresome battle. That will buy us the time we need to finish off Alistair."
"...Lieze." From further down the Manticore's spine, Marché spoke through gritted teeth, "Look down there… in the gardens."
She followed his finger towards the ruined castle, where flashes of cerulean light were capturing the wilted canopy in a show of sorcery. It was impossible to see the battle's participants from on high, but Lieze was more than assured that she already knew who they were.
"The cultists must have escaped from the throne room…" She muttered, "...Wait."
She peered over the Manticore's side yet again, taking note of the freefalling Artificial Scion she had dispatched just moments prior.
"Hey, you!" She pulled on the Manticore's fur to grab its attention, "Grab that corpse!"
Granted, it wasn't a decision made with self-preservation in mind. When the beast stilled its wings and began plummeting towards the earth, Lieze and her allies were forced to clamp their brace themselves as the buffeting winds forced droplets of tears out from their eyes.
The Manticore spun around to align itself with one half of the angel's bisected corpse, snatching it out of the air before spreading its wings to catch the airlift. Lieze felt her consciousness waver for an instant as their trajectory shifted from the ground to the sky.
"Oh no…" She could barely hear Drayya's complaints over the noise, "I think I'm about to lose my lunch…"
"If you're going to vomit, then kindly turn your head away from me!" Marché requested.
Lieze didn't have time to add to the argument. She had both hands on the Manticore's rotting flesh, eyes shut to maximise concentration.
"As long as the Manticore is touching the Artificial Scion, I should be able to channel a necromancy spell through its body…"
Her logic seemed perfectly reasonable - in her mind, at least. She was pleased by the familiar sensation of MP being drained from her body as she focused necromantic energies into the Manticore.
Lieze's MP - 1,505 / 1,525
The angel's body twitched and contorted as dark magic worked to piece together its skin and muscle into something vaguely resembling its former self. As per the conditions of Lieze's features, its level - [32] - was inflated to an impressive [70].
"Good…" She took a deep breath, "Now, let's reintroduce ourselves…"
An ocean of fire danced across the garden's wilted shrubbery, setting entire partitions aflame. Cultists hiding themselves in the bushes bellowed blood curdling screams as their cloaks were consumed by magickal flames. Fire was the natural foe of all things undead, though most of the thralls present didn't seem at all bothered by the fact that they had caught on fire.
Alistair's golden-black robe denoted him as one of the Gildwyrm's last living worshippers. Every other devout follower of the golden dragon had been killed by either of the corpse-raising factions plaguing his fair city. The few who lived on to support his cause had given their lives - wilfully or otherwise - in the pursuit of alchemical perfection, busying themselves with the titan of flesh making its way down from the castle.
"Fiends!" The flames spouting from his stave engulfed the garden in an amber glow, "May this holy fire cleanse your spirits of evil! The Sovereign Cities are eternal!"
The old priest's gem-studded palm hummed with fearsome light. Such spells were far beyond his capability to cast, but the Gods had seen fit to grant him the boon necessary to deliver his beloved city from evil. Alistair's feet carried him towards the garden's exit as boulders of rubble continued to crumble from the castle's husk.
"Shit! We need to fall back!" One of the cultists screamed.
"Where!? Into the castle!?" Another replied, "Only if you fancy it becoming your tomb!"
"We've lost too many! Where's Lady Sokalar!?"
The answer to that question arrived sooner than expected. A horrific screech marked the approach of some terrible creature from the air, drawing the attention of Alistair and the cultists alike.
"Ah… finally." Alistair sighed, raising his stave into the air, "I was wondering when you would turn up again."
The Manticore was barrelling towards him. Lieze's ashen hair was only just visible on its back. Holding a hand up to the crystal atop his wooden staff, Alistair muttered a prayer under his breath, causing a familiar wall of magical projectiles to form in the Manticore's path.
"He can use that more than once!?" Lieze would have blinked in surprise if she wasn't already struggling to keep her eyes open, "Fine… fine!"
She ducked her head behind the Manticore's leonine mane as Alistair loosed the spell once more. The beast cried out in pain as needles of magic punctured its undead flesh, but remained steadfast on its course - and in its stubborn grip of the Artificial Scion in its grasp.
Lieze waited for the perfect moment before channelling an overflow of necromantic energy through the Manticore's back. With mind-crushing difficulty, she directed the flow of magic into the newly-risen Artificial Scion, causing its body to bloat and contort.
Lieze's MP - 1,295 / 1,525
At her command, the injured Manticore tossed the corpse towards Alistair just as it approached the ground, allowing barely a second for the beast to adjust its landing before crashing into the wrought-iron partitions of the wilted garden, sundering trees and bushes alike.
"Fool… what was she planning?" Alistair watched the crash landing with indomitable pride before his attention was caught by a strange sound, "Hm?"
An undead creature rested a few feet away. He recognised it as one of his holy angels, corrupted by the influence of necromancy. He would have pitied the former soldier if it wasn't twitching in a frankly disgusting manner. Its abdomen bulged like a balloon, allowing Alistair not even a second to realise what Lieze's plan was all along.
"What in the name of-"
His exclamation was cut short by an explosion of blood and gristle.