Thralls fell in the hundreds. The streets of Tonberg ran crimson with the discoloured blood of the undead. With no notifications to bother her, Lieze observed the battle with delight from atop the Manticore, watching her army chasing down the retreating horde of the Order. It was impossible to imagine, let alone comprehend, that she had somehow emerged victorious from a battle against her former allies.
Quest "The Final Encounter" Complete!
Reward - 8,000xp
Level Up!
You are now level [40]
HP+0 MP+55
MIND + 1
Milestone Reached!
Supreme Necromancy (lvl. 2)
has been replaced by
Master Necromancy (lvl. 1)
Description - Use 15MP to reanimate a creature of level 80 or below. The creature's level as an undead thrall equals 2.5x its original level, rounded down. You can maintain a number of thralls equal to 12x your level, rounded down.
Necromantic Alchemy (lvl. 7)
has been upgraded to
Necromantic Alchemy (lvl. 8)
Enhancements Learned - [Infectious Bite]
Unique Undead Learned - [N/A]
But the final blockade to her unambiguous dominion remained. Hovering above the retreating thralls was the architect of all her worldly sorrows, observing the Manticore from the remains of the city square.
"Sokalar…" Lieze whispered under the wind's guise, "Can I face him alone…?"
Her pride was swelling up. Of course she could defeat him! How else could she exert her influence over the remains of the Order if she relied on anyone else to do the job for her?
-But that thought was dispelled with a shake of her head.
"What am I doing?" She wondered, "I'm not about to throw this opportunity away at the last second. I'll use everything I have to defeat Sokalar. I've come too far to fail now."
What was she, if not a necromancer herself? And a necromancer did not waltz into battle with the enthusiasm of a berserker. They plotted at the back lines and awaited the perfect opportunity before sending their thralls in to accomplish every task without having to risk life and limb.
"I'll return to the others for now…" She muttered, "They could use some help ridding these streets of the Order's army."
A single, unspoken order was all it took to convince the Manticore to move. The sensation of barrelling through the skies above Tonberg exhilarated Lieze, knowing that the land was soon to be her own. Beneath her, Sokalar's cowardly legions fled the district like rats fleeing from a sinking ship.
The beast landed with enough force to send cracks through the roads, rupturing the turgid bodies of thralls flattened beneath its weight while dragging a gargantuan paw along the ground to slice any unfortunate enemies into ribbons. A torrent of blood spilled across the Manticore's ginger fur, sparing Lieze from a grisly shower thanks to its supreme height.
"Lieze!"
Drayya called her down with a wave. There was no reason to ride the beast when siccing it on Sokalar's legions would allow it far more autonomy. Once the enemies around her had been reduced to gristle and mash, she shimmied her way down from the Manticore's body and rushed over to join the remnants of her army.
"We have the advantage, but it isn't going to last for long." Lieze pointed towards one of the tendrils towering over a cluster of terraced homes, "I can only keep those things under control for a short while. If we don't defeat Sokalar within the next 20-or-so minutes, the battle will turn in his favour."
Drayya's ecstatic grin turned sour, "...That won't give us the time we need to run down the remainder of his army."
"I doubt we need to." Brushing his way through a group of nearby Gravewalkers, Marché was followed by his hooded cultists, "Or, rather, we really shouldn't be killing all of them. Wouldn't it be a waste to eradicate the most powerful collection of necromancers in the world rather than putting them to good use?"
"Those were exactly my thoughts on the matter." Lieze nodded, "Only Sokalar needs to die. His cult of fear is the most powerful force in the Order. I have no chance of filling his position for as long as he lives."
"Oh, so all we have to do is kill your father - the most powerful necromancer to ever live?" Drayya sighed, "That's much simpler than just killing all of his followers."
"As far as I'm aware, he has no method of wrenching control from our thralls." Lieze placed a hand to her chin, "-But his mastery over [Blood Magic] is second to none, and with most of his Deathguards… uh, dead, he'll be surrounded by as many thralls as he can possibly control."
She considered the spells at his disposal - [Blood Spike], [Blood Barrier], [Blood Sacrifice]... blood this and blood that. He didn't have a Bag of Holding, but the sheer amount of blood coating Tonberg's streets would be more than enough to sate any desire for power. But that rule went both ways - the abundance of blood was just as useful to Lieze and the others as it would be to Sokalar.
"We can't afford to busy ourselves with fodder." Lieze said, "Most of the Deathguards were controlling their own personal legions, meaning Sokalar will most likely have the advantage in numbers, but not power. Drayya and Marché, the two of you should accompany me while the cultists battle Sokalar's thralls."
She cast a glance over their shoulders, expecting to see someone else.
"Where's Lüngen?" She asked.
"Some of our cultists are still injured from the battle with Alistair, remember." Marché folded his arms, "If we leave them without treatment, they'll almost certainly be dead by the time we return to the castle. Lüngen seemed quite well-read when it came to the art of medicine, so he offered to ensure their survival while we younglings spend our time warring."
"That does sound like something he would do." Drayya said, "He's a powerful necromancer, but Lüngen hates combat. He would much rather be curled up in a comfortable chair with a tome or smoking his damnable pipe."
"There's nothing for it. We do need those cultists." Lieze turned her attention towards the main throughway leading south from the castle. She could see straight down to the destroyed city square, where a tide of undead were congregating beneath Sokalar's levitating form.
Drayya's hand fell upon her shoulder, "You do know this is it, don't you? We've been joking and tiptoeing around the subject of Sokalar for a while now, but as soon as we move our army forward to engage him, there will be no coming back until-"
"-Until one side perishes, yes. I know." Lieze interrupted, "It's not a matter of contention for me. Since the day of my awakening, I've dreamed of the moment when I would finally surpass my father. It's difficult to face, but yes - this is that moment."
She fished the Phylactery out from her Bag of Holding and admired the wisps of smoke within. Sokalar believed himself invincible - that his status as a Lich would see him through an infinite number of defeats. He had no idea that Lieze was in possession of the artefact he held most dear.
"If we come out of this alive, you had better put that to good use." Drayya said, "I already know you're not going to destroy it, as much as I would love to see the look on Sokalar's face when he no longer has anywhere to escape."
"I don't plan on letting him use it." She assured, "We won't have long after his death before he's resurrected, so don't lower your guard after the battle is over. We'll need to move quickly."
"Whatever you say." Drayya shrugged her shoulders, "We're wasting time already, so shall we go?"
The street fell silent. Even the thralls seemed to understand the weight of Lieze's decision and quietened their incessant groaning for a brief moment. They wouldn't make a single move without a direct order from her. As far as they and the cultists were concerned, Lieze was already a leader who overshadowed Sokalar.
"Yes." She nodded, "It's time."
Civilians, royalists, Deathguards; the young, the middling, and the elderly. In death, there was no discrimination. No conflict or pain. There was only obedience from empty shells devoid of their essence. Sokalar used the power of his staff to recruit Tonberg's myriad corpses to his cause. They would not betray or fail him, unlike the useless cultists who had dared to retreat when faced with the slightest disadvantage.
He waited patiently for Lieze's arrival. All of her Dark Casters had been delegated to the defence of the castle, whereas Sokalar's had been destroyed by the tendrils which were once under his command. Those of the Order in the process of retreating found themselves continuously assailed by the tendrils. In Sokalar's eyes, they were already traitors, and he knew well that none of them would be returning to his side.
The square was devoid of such dangers. No matter how fiercely the tentacles lashed, they could never quite reach the remnants of Sokalar's forces. Fate had ordained the location of his defence against Lieze - a situation that could have pushed him to laughter had it been presented under any other circumstances.
His first realisation upon spotting the white-haired girl was that her brush with mortality had left her disfigured beyond all recognition. Indeed, Lieze's white hair was just about the only part of his daughter that the Lich could identify. The rest was a facsimile of the human beneath, sculpted by the Blackbriar's own hand.
She did not waste mana by levitating, and chose instead to meet with Sokalar atop her Manticore. He could tell with a glance that the beast was a remarkable specimen of necromancy, dangerously close to what his own hands were capable of.
Lieze, on the other hand, found herself not feeling much of anything at the sight of her father. For all intents and purposes, he was an enemy. She was not certain that he could have been considered family at any point in her life, and she knew that the feeling was mutual. Their relationship was one between a researcher and his experiment, rather than a father and his daughter.
"Lieze…" Sokalar spoke, "You live."
"I do." She replied curtly, "And my revival was divine, as opposed to a miracle of alchemy. The Blackbriar itself demanded my survival. Between us, then, who would you say is truly immortal?"
"You misunderstand the quest for immortality." The Lich answered, "I do not covet life, and nor do I reject it. My soul must remain immortal for as long as the living prowl this cursed world. It is my destiny to serve as the celestial shepherd, and my soul will be the last to enter the promised world of spirituality."
"We are all pawns in a much larger game." Lieze said, "Surely you must understand that? You are a scholar, after all. How many times has your research spiralled towards the enigmatic Mercuria, or the mystery of the Scions? I know that you know."
"A Scion… is that what you are?" He wondered, "I disregarded such myths on my quest to synthesise a phylactery. But your meteoric rise to the pinnacle of spellcasting could not be explained by any other phenomenon."
"I am being manipulated like a puppet on strings." She admitted, "This I know. But how? And for what purpose? I will not worship the Blackbriar so long as I cannot ascertain the goals of the Gods. How can the world be released into spirituality under their influence? Would we not be the same prisoners we have always been?"
"Yes… Kazor wondered the same." Sokalar said, turning his gaze skyward, "You are very much like him, Lieze. More than a scholar. One who wishes to peel back the secrets of this universe until they uncover the chaos at its centre."
"Then why not you?" She asked, "Are you content with being a puppet?"
"Is a farmer content with his harvest? Is a dog content with its kill, or a mother her child?" Sokalar's voice raised, "Never! There is always a desire for more! But humanity is forced to contend with its natural limitations! We cannot aspire to oppose the very Gods, and neither can the Gods aspire to unmoor this world from its shackles!"
He went silent. Lieze awaited his conclusion with a patient glare.
"...The time for debate has passed." He said, "Our ideals will clash in a storm of fury and muscle, and only the strongest will emerge from the ashes. So come, Lieze, and prove yourself capable of defying the heavens themselves."