Quest 'Extinction Event' Complete!
Reward - 7,800xp
Level Up!
You are now level [51]
HP+0 MP+55
MIND + 1
The notification reminded Lieze of something she'd forgotten about: when she had reached the nice, round level of [50], she had been told by the scale that a 'specialisation' of some sort was awaiting her judgement. As if reacting to her thoughts, another box appeared in her field of view to conclude the query.
You have reached level [50]. Please choose [1] specialisation from the following choices.
Necromantic Conduit
Description - Allows you to sacrifice a thrall in order to recover MP equal to 10x the targeted thrall's level. This action takes 30 seconds and is interrupted if any form of damage is inflicted during its use, either upon you or the targeted thrall.
Legion Master
Description - Quintuples your maximum thrall capacity. Additionally, any thralls with levels equal to or lower than [10] no longer contribute to your maximum thrall capacity.
She was no longer receiving linear upgrades to her abilities, but a choice between feats that vastly improved her capabilities as a necromancer. Lieze did the math in her head, concluding that if she chose the latter option, her maximum thrall capacity would balloon to a staggering 3,825 - or just about every thrall under her command once the Deathguards had returned from their omnicidal expeditions.
But there was an argument to be made for the former specialisation, too. With more mana on hand, she would become quite a formidable force on the battlefield in combination with her focus. She had yet to explore the grimoire written by Kazor Nict that Drayya had located in Sigmund's tower, which would no doubt contain a plethora of spells suited to a frontline sorcerer.
For Lieze, the final choice was obvious. She was no battlemage. She was a necromancer. Why place herself in danger when an unending tide of flesh could crush any semblance of opposition before she even had a chance to survey the battlefield? With an endless supply of thralls bound to her direct service, she would have more control over her army than ever before.
Specialisation 'Legion Master' Chosen.
Her slow rise to power had been punctuated by an ever-widening well of magical potential in her body, but the surge of strength she felt upon accepting the scale's gift on that occasion was pronounced enough to leave her short of breath. Her comprehension of necromancy was reaching the upper limit of what the human mind was capable of.
Two days had passed since their arrival in the Kanin Delta, and in that short span of time, the Deathguards and Skeletal Necromancers had wiped out most of the region's native life, resurrecting the most promising monsters as thralls to further increase the diversity of Lieze's army. It was no longer possible to conceivably estimate the scope of her manpower.
But even that much wouldn't satisfy her. Alongside the newfound clarity of her mind was a frenzied longing for yet more power. She understood her purpose, and that was to usher the world towards total oblivion, where not even death could perpetuate the sorrow created by one's consciousness.
All she needed was the power of the Scions. If she could emerge victorious from the celestial contest imposed by the Gods, she could release the Light in Chains from its restraints and allow it to ravage their plane of existence, swallowing the planes into comforting, endless nothingness.
Alberich was next on the chopping block, and Lieze was keen to make a move on his supposedly impenetrable fortress. But first, they would need to cripple the Dwarves' options by removing pieces from the game board - namely, the outlying threat of the country's border and its formidable garrison.
Drayya, Lüngen, and the other Deathguards were called over at midday to discuss the Order's strategy. Lieze had already outlined a primitive plan for taking the border, and wanted to make it known well in advance for fear of having missed any crucial details.
"A tight formation of Rot Behemoths will occupy the vanguard." She began, "We may have the advantage in positioning, but the Dwarves armed with crossbows and arbalests will still be able to attack us long before we reach the walls of the border. Assembling a sturdy frontline will give our weaker thralls a chance to close in, where the effectiveness of ranged attacks will be sorely weakened."
Their victory was assured no matter the strategy - there were simply too many thralls for a scattered force of warriors to reliably contend with. Minimising losses was the most important factor, and without time to rearrange their siege weapons, the Dwarves wouldn't have nearly enough power to mow down a vanguard of Rot Behemoths.
"We still have the height advantage to consider." Drayya interrupted her train of thought, "Those walls are tall as anything. An arbalest could land a bolt behind our front line easily."
"But they won't." Lieze replied, "-Because they won't have the time to focus their fire on anything else. We're going to modify our Rot Behemoths with [Necromantic Alchemy] to increase their speed. If the Dwarves want to protect the walls, they'll be forced to divert their attention towards the most destructive attackers - especially if they're as fast as the other thralls."
Lieze had been overlooking the boon of [Necromantic Alchemy] recently. By performing quick but expensive alterations to her army, it could theoretically be used to fine-tune the thralls so that they could adapt to any situation. In this case, speed would be the defining factor.
Drayya nodded along to her proposition with a growing smile, "...That sounds good. Very good."
Lieze retrieved her Portable Home, "I'll get the alchemy table."
Lieze's MP - 805 / 2,245
With the aid of the Deathguards and Skeletal Necromancers, Lieze was able to save on both time and mana while performing the necessary enhancements. She took on the highest-level Rot Behemoths herself, spending 6 hours to improve 12 thralls with her [Necromantic Efficiency] in play. In conjunction with the efforts of her allies, she was able to improve a grand total of 98 Rot Behemoths, which were now capable of moving along with just as much dexterity as the average Gravewalker - which was to say, not much, but certainly with more grace than their previous habit of glacial lumbering.
Lieze wiped the sweat from her brow as she finished her work on the last Behemoth. Once upon a time, she had flourished in the humidity of the Deadlands' bogs, but a few months in the temperate midlands had impacted her resistance to the wet heat. The overwhelming stench of rot brought on by the weather was getting to the point where even she was having trouble resisting the urge to vomit.
Something swollen and leather was dangled by a strap in front of her face. She grabbed the skin without another word and helped herself to a sip of crisp, lukewarm water. The more she drank, the more she realised how single-minded she became during communion-intensive rituals.
"I could have poisoned that." Drayya placed a hand on her shoulder, "You didn't even think about checking, did you?"
"The time for seeking death among our own ranks is in the past." She breathed a sigh of relief as she finished drinking, "Sokalar rewarded that kind of ruthlessness with prestige. Ruling with fear and pain is effective, but it only succeeds in teaching the wrong lessons. I don't want any of my subordinates hanging onto my every word like gospel."
"It was a little tiresome fending off assassination attempts every other week." Drayya replied, "But I do agree that it's preferable to receive a promotion based on one's merits as opposed to their monstrous hunger for homicide. We are necromancers, after all - what's there to prove beyond a conviction to oblivion?"
Lieze handed the waterskin back, "Thank you."
"Uh… right." Drayya was taken aback by the girl's sudden gratitude, "It's strange hearing you say something like that out of the blue."
"Does it bother you?"
"No!" She regretted her choice of words instantly, "No… of course it doesn't. I like that. I like that you're trying to change yourself. It reminds me of when we were younger."
Innocent. Carefree. Joyful. Lieze couldn't help but remember the liveliness of those days. A pang of nostalgia struck her in the core, and suddenly, she was more self-conscious about herself than she would have ever cared to admit.
"...Do you think it's possible for someone like me to change?" Her inner thoughts crept out in a formerly rare display of worry, "I was created to be everything a necromancer strives for. Unfeeling, uncooperative, headstrong… I can't help but wonder where 'Lieze' ends and 'Sokalar' begins."
Drayya listened to her unconditionally, hanging onto every seemingly pathetic word that escaped from her mouth. There was a time, she thought, when neither of them would be so quick to confide in one-another, and when doing so may have been the beginning of something terrible.
"You've already changed." She answered, "By refusing to become a Lich. By ridding yourself of the Mercuria. You're more like 'Lieze' with every passing day. I can't see you as Sokalar's daughter anymore."
Lieze found some comfort in those words, but there was a lingering hangnail to Drayya's encouragement. "You were the one who told me to make those decisions." she said.
"-And what does that mean?" Drayya pressed, "That you're weak for relying on others? That you would be better off alone? I stopped you from performing that ritual because I knew there would be no turning back. You would have been so extraordinarily powerful, but I couldn't bear to watch you don the mantle of the father you'd always despised."
She lowered her voice towards the end of her tangent, suddenly worried of being overheard. She closed the distance between them, lowering her voice to a whisper. "Whether you've changed or not isn't the question that needs to be answered. All that matters is your own desire. You're no longer restrained by the limitations of your blood or the abuse of Sokalar, so be as free as you'd like to be."
Trapped in a prison of her own design - that described Lieze too well for her own liking. She had been bothering herself with what it meant to be a 'true' necromancer for her entire adulthood. But why did she care for the standards of her fold when the executor of the Order's dogma had proven to be a less than ideal leader?
"Hm…" She wasn't sure what to say, "Thank you, Drayya."
"You've been groomed to treat any kind of happiness like a death trap." She replied, "It will be better. And when we reach the end of this conflict, we'll guarantee that no creature will ever have to suffer the same torment. We've proven that now - we know what needs to be done."
"Yes…" Lieze gave a shallow nod, "That's true."
Drayya flashed an increasingly common smile her way. There was hope in her eyes now, encapsulating whatever form of trepidation she'd felt up to the moment of the voyage's conclusion. Lieze's mind was clearer than ever - her ultimate purpose crystallised into a belief that eclipsed Sokalar's narrow worldview in its entirety.
The march was on. Thousands of thralls, headed by the surprisingly agile group of Rot Behemoths, set off on their journey towards the border, where another victory awaited Lieze on the far horizon.