In the western district of Amalin's capital, a church praises the goddess. There are a few churches spread across the city, and people are able to worship in their homes if they desire. Church processions are held on the first day of the week most commonly. Nobles often have a shrine or statue depicting their fair goddess Amelia. Commoners may use some handmade token or object.
Under Amelia, there is no wrong way to worship. The Goddess of Light and Healing doesn't discriminate between classes or races. The only exception are inherently malicious beings such as necromancers. Necromancers are a blight to healing and go against the natural order.
However, beneath the western church a group of them congregate. Deep tunnels wind to and fro beneath the city, stretching for several kilometers. Several men and women crowd around a bonfire wearing ceremonial black robes with hoods.
Gregore sits at the helm on a throne. He remains as the only hoodless figure. His robes are tattered, especially around the neck area, and he wears a skeletal crown. Earlier in his life, he found the crown inside of a dungeon. There was nobody who could identify the name or effects, but he figured them out on his own. At least, he figured out two of them.
One of the effects made it easier to summon and control vast amounts of undead, and the other had a strengthening effect. This second buff made their bones as hard as steel.
Next to Gregore's throne a thick staff rests. The thing is shaped more like a warhammer, and it weighs roughly the same. If it wasn't for him training his muscles, he'd find it hard to lift.
However, the [Warborn Staff] was too good to pass up. It amplified his spells and physical abilities and gave him resistance to fire magic. Since the end was like a hammer and blunt, it would also ensure he'd be unstoppable against undead, especially skeletons.
He knew all of this to be the case, yet he could not be happy at the moment. His organization—shunned by the goddess—had planned to make big moves, shaking this country to the core.
Gregore spent years gathering undead and amassing an army. He even produced a skeleton king. Over the years, how many skeleton kings had been spotted in this kingdom?
He searched his memory, recalling that the fall of a major city over a century ago was caused by a skeleton king. Normal people didn't have the means to deal with them, and whole armies would be routed.
Gregore's fist slammed against his armrest. His mind still vividly remembered the face of the descended woman. Her skin was unbelievably pure and unmarred. Her face was unnaturally beautiful. She appeared as a sheltered elven princess.
The necromancer remembered the reclusive elves, mostly from tales. They were without a doubt a force to be reckoned with. The high elves clung to their magic spells and garnered a reputation of being nearly invincible. Though, the knife-eared peace-lovers almost never venture this far south!
His thoughts were cut off by a nearby nervous dark apostle. "Lord Gregore, what should we do next?"
Indeed, that was the question. All of his painstaking years of effort were crushed in an instant. If the organization ruling over his own figured out Gregore's incompetence, what would be done? He had gained trust with them over the years, quickly climbing his way up the echelons, but what would happen if they found out about this failure? How would he rectify himself?
His immediate thought was he wanted that elf gone or dead. However, he knew it wasn't realistic. Someone who could do what she did...If that girl found him, it could be the end of everything.
Facing the hire-ups would have to be done. It would be better if he could convince them to send reinforcements. They understood as well as him that the operation needed to be completed. They needed to divide the two kingdoms, but that was only on the surface. They were growing stronger everyday, and it would be better if The Order was able to seize this opportunity at all costs.
Gregore looked back at the nervous henchman. "Complete the magic array. Those lords won't do anything right now. We can still make our own moves, but for now, I need to speak with Lord Thalmus."
"Right!" The subordinate waved at the encirclement. "Finish the spell. By our Lord's orders."
Gregore watched them complete the spell. By the end of it, a translucent blue mirror floated before the lord.
On the other side, the image of Lord Thalmus was reflected. His face was unbelievably handsome. He had piercing red eyes and a bright smile. Bat wings sprouted from the back of his suit, giving him an otherworldly appearance. However, Lord Thalmus was not to be confused with the local docile vampires.
This man was a genuine demon, and the smile on the surface only betrayed the cruelty hidden deep inside. Gregore knew it was just as Amelia's teachings suggested, there is no such thing as a kind demon.
Lord Thalmus' grin widened upon seeing Gregore, showcasing the sharp pearly fangs hidden beneath. His voice radiated with a kindness befitting an elderly butler. "Lord Gregore, it's always such a pleasure seeing you." The demon's eyes narrowed at the necromancer, and he playfully spoke the next words. "How gooooeees the recent endeavors?"
This bastard! He knows everything! Gregore didn't let his hidden disdain show on his face. It was fine. He'd play Thalmus' game. "Not well, Lord Thalmus. Given your demeanor, I am sure you understand. All of those skeletons under my command were killed in an instant."
A maid on Lord Thalmus' side delivered the demon a glass full of red liquid. The demon smiled at the maid. "Thanks, dear."
He elegantly brought the glass towards his mouth and sipped with grace. When he looked back at the necromancer, he frowned slightly. "It pains me to see such a thing happen to Lord Gregore." He shook his head as if in a deep sorrow. "Do you know who did it?"
The necromancer lord nodded. "I watched through the eyes of my skeleton king. She was an elf girl, resembling a princess. She wore pure robes, and the last thing I saw was the staff. It chimed like the bells of heaven."
Thalmus placed a thoughtful hand on his chin. "Was she beautiful?"
"Huh?"
The demon's nose twitched, and he snapped in annoyance. "Just answer the question."
Gregore nodded rapidly. "She was exceptionally beautiful. If I am honest, her beauty was not of this world. Yet, I have always heard elves described the same way."
The demon clicked his tongue. "You are far too young, little necromancer. One thing is certain. That girl is not merely an 'elf'. I felt it multiple times recently. The magical purity of this girl could only be that of an angel or some higher order."
Gregore's eyes widened, struggling to suppress his shock. "But if that's the case, what will we do! She is holed up in the castle as we speak!"
"There is only one thing I can do when faced with such a prospect. I will just have to go there myself."
"You, Lord Thalmus!?"
The demon grinned. This smile betrayed no kindness. It was the scheming evil smile that sent chills into the young necromancer.
"There's only one thing you can do to a being so pure. I want to clip her wings. I wish to see her descend from grace, becoming nothing more than my little pet. There's nothing more ripe in this world than an angel. Tell me Gregore, have you ever had any of the apples native to the elven kingdom?"
The necromancer shook his head. He didn't see how the two were connected, but cutting off the demon was not a challenge he would undergo.
"Oh my, you are still too young. When you get the chance, taste of that fruit. They cannot be compared to the apples of your Amalin. I wouldn't even be able to describe it. The juiciness, fleshiness, and tastiness, it's all simply divine. That elf you speak of is the same. Compare your local brothel whore to an untouched and ripe specimen. This is what I speak of."
Gregore could only nod along to the ranting demon. His own tastes were far from the lord in the mirror. He didn't have a taste for women nor men. His interests rested with the unliving. There was nothing sexual about it.
Still, the necromancer thought it was odd for the demon to come himself. "What do you plan to do, Lord Thalmus?"
"It's quite simple, really. I plan to make that girl one of my wives. Once I clipped her pretty little wings, only then will she become mine. All of the angels in my castle have fallen, and this one will be no exception." He paused for a moment before remembering something. "As for the other plans, I will also take care of that. Isn't it great, Gregore? You get a vacation."