Daughter of Death - A Necromantic LitRPG

Perhaps expectant of the approaching battle, the weather had taken a turn for the worse. Rain trickled down from the fragmented canopy in intermittent showers onto the bare scalps of corpses traversing the undergrowth. Hede and Drayya were silent as they levitated through the forest, scanning gaps between the great oaks for any signs of an imminent ambush.

Lieze, as always, was having trouble just keeping up with the regiment. To her companions, she was worth even less than a thrall, and so an unspoken agreement had surfaced between the army’s leaders not to mention her presence.

“The treeline will ensure that we won’t be spotted until we’re close to the city.” Drayya commented, “It would make sense if Ricta had laid an ambush for us. It presents too great an opportunity. Master Sokalar was right to worry.”

“The priesthood cannot afford to have their dogs squatting in the woods while a battle is happening elsewhere…” Hede agreed, “I expect we’ll be running into a group of novices, if priests have indeed been stationed here.”

“Wait!”

Drayya lowered her voice as she spoke, holding out a hand to stay Hede’s movement, “...Do you smell that?”

Something was in the air--a stench which overpowered even the rot-stink of their undead. A potent cocktail of herbs and wine, spreading its sickly-sweet haze along the thin winds of the forest. To a necromancer, it was quite the distinctive scent indeed.

“Censers…” Hede muttered, “And the wind isn’t particularly fierce… they must be close by.”

“We can’t hope for a surprise attack. Our best bet is anticipating the ambush in advance.”

“Yes…” The man brought a hand to his chin, “Why not lay a trap of our own, then?”

“What do you mean?”

“Might I remind you that we have a perfectly suitable candidate to act as bait?”

Drayya blinked once. She averted her gaze while attempting to hide the excitement welling up within her, but ended up doing a rather poor job of it.

“What a splendid idea…” The corners of her lips curled up, “It would be simply terrible if Master Sokalar’s spawn was to perish in an ambush nobody could see coming…”

Lieze caught up with her two scheming peers only moments later, pushing past the immobile group of undead tagging along with them. Drayya was more delighted than she’d ever been in her life to see the girl--a telltale sign that something was amiss.

“Ah, Lieze.” She greeted, “Graeme has put forward quite a wonderful plan. If there are any royalists lurking in these woods, would it not be best to lull them into a false sense of security?”

“What are you suggesting?” Lieze asked that question knowing full-well she didn’t want to hear the answer.

“Move forward with your… humble thralls in an attempt to goad any ambushers out of hiding. Hede and I will remain close behind to aid you should any members of the priesthood reveal themselves.”

“What if I refuse?”

“Hm?” Drayya’s brow twitched, “And why would you ever do that?”

“Because I have a better plan.” She argued, “Why not send ahead a Skeleton or two? We’ll be able to hear any royalists attacking them from a distance. Once we’ve narrowed down their location, we can split up and round the force for a pincer attack, reducing our casualties.”

If there was one thing Margoh Drayya disliked more than anything else, it was Lieze speaking back to her with such confidence. She’d spent many years emphasising the sheer difference in ability between the two of them, and listening to Lieze’s attempts at resisting her superiority boiled her blood like nothing else.

“Do you suppose one of us can simply break out a telescope and ascertain the precise distance between ourselves and any royalists?” She folded her arms, “Sound… isn’t a reliable indicator of distance! Especially with how thick the treeline is here!”

“We don’t need to know the precise distance. Just what direction they’re in.” Lieze countered, “Once we split up, it’s just a matter of approaching the sound from two sides at roughly the same time. Using me as bait is just sacrificing thralls unnecessarily.”

Lieze was challenged in the art of necromancy, certainly, but she had a nose. The fragrant scent of burning censers blowing downwind was just as perceptible to her as it was to Drayya or Hede--she knew perfectly well there were priests hiding somewhere. Drayya was simply trying to find a way to orchestrate her death in a way that could be plausibly denied.

“You-” The girl stammered, “Graeme! Tell this fool why she’s in the wrong!”

“Hm.” The man placed his hands together for a moment, “...It’s not a bad plan. I’m all for minimising casualties when it’s going to be my force taking the brunt during the diversionary attack.”

“You’re taking her side!?”

“I’m not one for satisfying my own pride when Master Sokalar is relying on me.” He resolved, “Let’s not kid ourselves--Lieze is an awful Deathguard. Even she understands that. But for as long as she’s able to present strategies that don’t endanger our thralls, then I’m more than willing to tolerate her.”

“You’re certainly quite talkative when Master Sokalar isn’t around, aren’t you?”

“I was chosen as his advisor for a reason, Drayya. That’s all I will say on the matter.” Hede sighed, “Now, send three of your Skeletons ahead. We’ve wasted enough time bickering.”

“Mine? Not Lieze’s?”

“Yes, yours. I believe it’s only fitting, considering you’ve contributed nothing to this plan so far.”

The girl was furious, but she was in no position to refuse Hede’s orders. Lieze received a scalding glare from Drayya as she levitated back towards her thralls.

Soon after she ordered three of her skeletons to proceed further into the woods, there was a sudden shout quickly followed by birds fleeing from the canopy. A number of piercing, indistinct sounds marked the casting of holy magic, though the encounter barely lasted for more than a few seconds.

“We have our confirmation.” Hede muttered, “The two of you will circle around the west, and I will proceed to the east. Order your forces to proceed at half-march, and once you catch sight of the priests, engage them. I will not be far behind.”

“Of course…” Drayya sounded none too pleased about the plan, “Let’s get to it.”

When the two groups separated and began proceeding along their pincer route, Lieze could see Drayya casting annoyed glances behind her, and sighed when the girl deigned to lower herself to the ground.

“I suppose you must be feeling quite proud of yourself?” She spoke, crossing her arms.

“We don’t have time to be playing this game, Drayya.”

Lieze grunted in pain as her senior forcibly took hold of her short, white hair and yanked the girl towards her. It wasn’t an uncommon interaction between them--one that Lieze had found was more tolerable if she simply kept her mouth shut.

“Graeme is a smart man, you know? He understands that putting your life in danger is no way of pleasing Master Sokalar.” She spat, “But unlike him, I have no problem imagining how much more effective the Deathguards would be without a lead weight holding us down.”

Lieze didn’t respond. She knew there was no point.

“Think twice before snapping back at me like that again.” She warned, “-Once we reach the northern gate, I don’t want to hear another one of your so-called ‘strategies’. Is that clear?”

“Of course.”

“Excellent.” She released her grip, “Now, sit back and watch true Deathguards at work.”

It wasn’t long before their thralls made contact with the group of royalists in the forest. The air became thick with smoke pouring from the priests’ censers--a magical deterrent to all manner of undead creatures, but not so powerful as to stop them from following their masters’ orders.

Lieze frowned as she recalled Drayya words, but she knew them to be true. Her own thralls couldn’t possibly defend her against Tonberg’s priests. And so, as Drayya moved her ample regiment towards the huddling would-be ambushers, she held her own forces back, knowing that what few Skeletons and Gravewalkers she had would be her lifeline for the upcoming siege.

The royalists; foot soldiers with a detachment of priests, numbering perhaps just under fifty men, quickly found themselves overwhelmed by the simultaneous pincer attack from Drayya and Hede. It was well-known that ordinary soldiers fell easily to undead hordes, and so priests were used to even the scales in most battles. Despite the latter’s attempts at driving back the thralls with holy magic, they quickly found their mana reserves empty in the moments of panic following the realisation that they’d been duped.

Horrific sounds flew with the wind towards the direction of Tonberg. Screams accompanied the twisting of bones beneath yellowed teeth and the tearing of flesh. Fresh bodies were something of a commodity to necromancers, and so thralls were typically reined in before they could do too much damage, leaving their victims ripe for raising. As the thick stench of blood mixed with heavenly potpourri, Drayya set about putting the last of the quivering royalists out of their misery personally while Hede moved to greet Lieze, who had been observing the short-lived battle from a distance.

“It’s a pleasure to see that at least some of the Master’s teachings have rubbed off on you.” He complimented dryly, “Come now, Lieze--why not try taking one of these priests for yourself?”

“They’re too fresh.” She replied, “I can’t purge their souls.”

“I’ve heard the same excuse from many a budding necromancer--Drayya included.” Hede made sure he wasn’t being overheard before continuing, “Give it a try.”

Wordlessly accompanying the hunched Deathguard to one of the battle’s victims, Lieze allowed her eyes to survey the insignia of the Golden Dragon emblazoned upon the soldier’s tabard, half-stained with gore.

“Now--focus. Allow the creeping touch of the Blackbriar to infest your mind.”

Lieze closed her eyes. Her fellow Deathguards often spoke of visions while communing with the Blackbriar. But as always, she saw nothing. The image of a withered, half-decayed tree formed in the back of her subconscious. Something foul and repulsive--like the runny touch of a slug, overcame her entire body. Carefully, she raised a hand towards the corpse and attempted to force the sensation into her digits, channelling sparks of hazy magenta from her index finger. A pain crept down her arm, and then, just as her malefic desires took shape as wicked sorcery, the sensation retreated all at once, and returned her to the world of the living with such speed that she felt like throwing up.

Hede clicked his tongue disappointingly, “As I expected. Your natural affinity for sorcery is still through the floor, young lady. The Blackbriar could barely sense you, much less channel its power through you.”

“Ugh…” Lieze swallowed something down, “What was the point in trying?”

“Call it a simple wish of mine. Miracles are known to happen, after all.” He replied, “Such a shame… you aren’t a bad tactician, Lieze, but your necromancy… to say it leaves much to be desired would be a poor joke.”

“I know that.”

“Yes. I’m sure you do.” Hede turned his back to her, “But we can’t afford to waste any more time. Sokalar will be attacking the southern gates shortly. We had best get a move on.”

Lieze allowed herself to hope for just a moment that Hede was about to reveal a critical aspect of necromancy she’d been missing. But once again, she had been disappointed by her own ineptitude. She couldn’t bring herself to complain.

“Lieze!” Drayya called, “Stop wasting time! We’re making our way to the northern gate!”

That was her destiny--to be the ever-incapable daughter of Sokalar who received death threats for even allowing her opinion to be heard. Just as Drayya had said, she was a lead weight pulling the Order down. For years, she had studied more fervently than all of her peers without seeing any improvements to her craft. She was on the brink of giving up completely.

The siege would be her breaking point. Somehow, she knew it to be true.