Daughter of Death - A Necromantic LitRPG

The idea had first come to her on a whim.

There was something she found so deeply interesting about a single facet of the gemstones. If they were of the Light in Chain’s flesh as the Sages described. then what was stopping Lieze from making use of her necromancy? Of course, it wasn’t flesh as she understood it. The Light in Chains was an angular, alien entity formed from some incomprehensible alloy. But as far as her system was concerned, flesh was flesh.

She’d developed the spell right after returning from the second Sage’s tower in the event of a sudden betrayal. It was a nebulous gambit, but not the first she’d ever attempted. If her influence could spread to the domain of the Gods themselves…

Tantalised by the thought, she pressed her index finger against the scale. It was not her own flesh, but a cumbersome graft forced upon her in a moment of sudden desperation. Most importantly, it was ‘dead’, allowing her to reanimate as a scrap of undead Godskin. For the final time, she endured the Blackbriar’s caustic visions of a future dominated by its influence. Through the haze of delusion, she could sense the God’s refusal to cooperate with her plan, yet still unable to refuse its gift of sorcery, forced to become the executor of its own undoing. It was exactly as Lieze had once said to Drayya - the deities governing their world were little more than tools to satisfy their ambitions.

Necromantic energy coursed into the scale. She felt a scorching pain across her palm. Every nerve in her body commanded her to stop, but the damage was already done from the moment of its incursion. Notifications expanded and disappeared, covering her field of view in an array of useless, pleading boxes.

WARNING!

CATASTROPHIC DAMAGE DETECTED!

SUBJECT [LIEZE SOKALAR] IS IN DANGER OF LOSING PROGRESS!

None of it mattered to her - not truly. Her powers were nothing more than a farce in the grand scheme of things. A means to an end. The untalented girl hiding behind the scale was no longer someone she considered shameful. All that mattered in that moment was that her efforts - and the efforts of her comrades - were not allowed to go to waste.

“What are you doing?” The Sages’ voices echoed in her skull, “Removing the scale accomplishes nothing.”

“Who said I was getting rid of it?” She replied, her voice stained with the burning agony darting up the length of her arm, “I’m only returning this artefact to its original owner. You don’t have a problem with that, do you?”

As life slipped out from the scale, its surface became corroded. The seal it had formed around her palm began to weaken alongside the powers and abilities Lieze had laboured so fiercely to attain.

Subject [Lieze Sokalar] Removed

Your level is now [1]

Your attributes have been reset

You have lost the following abilities and features:

Peerless Necromancy / Necromantic Alchemy / Blood Magic / Inspect / Heavenly Favours

The boxes fizzled and distorted from view, leaving Lieze a hollow shell of her former self. The drop in power was physically repulsive. Although the knowledge of her many techniques and masteries remained, the intrinsic spellcasting ability required to utilise them was stolen away from her. In a single moment, all of her worldly fears were realised: she had been forced to regress to her initial state before accepting the power of a Scion.

There was a time when such an occasion would have driven her over the edge. There was no future, no punishment that terrified her more than the prospect of returning to square one. Before her many revelations as the Order travelled across the continent, power was her only motivation. Losing that privilege would have destroyed her. But she was not the same Lieze Sokalar as the woman who accepted the Gildwyrm’s offer on that day. Her purpose in the grand, cosmic scheme of the universe was clearer than ever before. If her power was the price that needed to be paid to ensure her victory, then she would gladly offer it.

Whether God or mortal, there was no being that could resist the intrinsic forces of the world. The system had taught Lieze to exploit this rule, making use of intangible laws to surge her influence and wreak havoc on the world with an untold number of thralls. If she could raise humans, Dwarves, Elves, monsters - then why not Gods? The final spell she’d channelled into the scale was all she would ever need.

The gemstone lifted from a freshly-carved cavity in her palm, revealing red-raw flesh within the knoll it had bored out for itself. It moved of its own accord, drawn - she imagined - by the intrinsic desire for that single strip of Godflesh to return to its master. She watched it hovering off into the distance, unsure of how much time she had left until the world as she understood it came to an end.

“What are you doing?” The Sages demanded, “Why is the gemstone returning to the Light in Chains?”

“Gods above - aren’t you supposed to be the masters of sorcery?” She sighed, “I knew from the very beginning that you would betray me. It was obvious. But it wasn’t until you revealed the origins of the gemstones that I was finally able to devise a plan that could overcome a sudden and unwelcome turncoat.”

“You are bluffing.” Came their reply, “There is nothing you can do.”

“If that’s what you want to believe…” Lieze shrugged, “Sit back and watch, then.”

Soon enough, the gemstone had vanished into the glowing sunbeams emanating from the Light in Chains. The single chain hooked into its alien Godflesh continued to rattle, disintegrating into the far distance where the void disintegrated into a vast and blinding light. Lieze couldn’t be certain of anything anymore - she had never felt so blind without the system to keep her updated on every inconsequential detail. Her fists clenched involuntarily, her gaze fixated upon the imprisoned God, awaiting hopefully, anxiously, for the pivotal moment.

Then, there was a scream.

It was not the howl of a man. There was no despairing cadence. No echoing reverbs. Lieze couldn’t tell what it was. A tidal surge of energy? An unknowable cry across space and time? Whatever the answer, one thing was for certain: it was horrified. She was knocked down by the wave of noise, senses disoriented as her brain struggled to derive meaning from a sound that she was never created to withstand.

“This reaction…” The Sages, on the other hand, were unaffected by the wail, “Mana is rapidly spreading through the Light in Chains’ body… a sudden influx of necromantic energy originating from… the gemstone?”

The pieces were beginning to fall into place. The impartial expressions of the Sages, which had remained so for the entirety of Lieze’s dealings, were beginning to transform into something more worrisome.

“Activate the beacons!” One of them commanded, “We must be ready to exercise control over the Light in Chains before Lieze Sokalar can take control of it! She is attempting to enthral the imprisoned one!”

On the other side of reality - beyond that faraway gaol of light - machinations of a different sort were underway. Within the fractured realms of man, thirteen of the sixteen towers once belonging to the Sages began to crumble and disintegrate as cerulean beams of light were fired from their beacon chambers, stretching past the atmosphere and into the cosmic abyss beyond the planet’s circumference.

“Mana supply is unstable…” Another Sage reported, “Still within tolerable parameters. Beginning dimensional intrusion…”

From beyond the light encircling their plane, the beams were redirected through portals, all thirteen focusing directly upon the Light in Chains. Its earth-shaking song continued to pound through Lieze’s head, who was forced to remain still on the ground with both hands over her ears. The golden light raining down from the imprisoned God began to dim as the [Infectious Implantation] sullied its iron flesh with patches of discoloured, ichorous rot.

“We… we cannot stop the transformation!” Their voices were panicked now, “The beacon chambers were only attuned to cast a spell of control when the order was given! But once the infection takes hold, the Light in Chains will acknowledge no other master than Lieze Sokalar!”

“Cast the spell anyway! We have suffered greatly for this chance! We… we cannot…”

They flickered like projections, then vanished from sight. Simultaneously, the horrid screeching came to a gracious end, and Lieze was left feeling as if someone was trying to screw a bolt into her skull.

When she stood, the formless ground beneath her feet quaked. She looked up just in time to spot the enormous chain corroding before her very eyes, wasting away to rust. When the first link broke, she was thrown onto her back by a wave of chromatic energy. Freed from its restraints, the Light in Chains unleashed a bellow that may have been comparable to a whale’s song. Lieze couldn’t be certain - her hearing was still damaged from the initial scream.

The spheroid celestial hovered towards her, growing until Lieze’s flesh threatened to scald from the immense heat radiating from its being. Shards of cosmic metal chipped from its surface, revealing what looked to be churning organs beneath the pearlescent surface. She held out her arm in desperation, “Stop! Damn it - you’ll boil me alive!”

Then, impossibly, it followed her command.

The Light in Chains forbade itself from moving an inch closer. Lieze stared at the tips of her outstretched fingers in amazement. Surely, there was no chance that she had just ordered a God to stop dead in its tracks?

“It can’t be…” She whispered, “Did that actually work?”

No matter how she thought of it, the power balance was just too ridiculous to believe. She had witnessed it herself; the Light in Chains was so powerful that it didn’t even have a level. Its statistics stretched into the realm of exponentials. In its eyes - or whatever it used to perceive the world - Lieze was less than nothing. And yet, somehow, she had become its master.

Unbelieving of her own fortune, she waited for something to happen. A sudden tug of influence or wave of power that would deny her control. But it never came. The Light in Chains remained there, hovering, awaiting its orders - unconditionally hers to command.

“It’s…” She held her breath, “It’s over…”

Every ounce of stress heaped upon her shoulders was lifted all at once. All the hatred, the rage, the fury accumulated over months of endless conflict was released. If the reflex hadn’t been beaten out of her as a child, she may have broken into tears. Against every prediction - against all odds - there she stood, uncontested, at the world’s peak.

All that remained was to end it.

“Hah…” With a final sigh, Lieze prepared herself for the end, and quickly realised the futility of trying, “Most would be corrupted by power like this… I could scour the far reaches of the universe, raise an army of undead across the cosmos, and conquer yet-unseen worlds at the edge of creation…”

-But somehow, the idea didn’t fill her with glee.

“...But I’m too tired.” She admitted, “Too tired for power. For wealth. For status. My goals may have shifted and contorted along the way, but the crux of my existence has always remained the same. To destroy this world - no, this entire reality, and invite the universe into welcoming oblivion. If life is destined to continue regardless, then let it be a life separate from this, where Gods and Sages plot to dominate the wills of men. A life where true ‘freedom’ may prosper.”

She couldn’t bear to look at the Light in Chains for too long. Its encompassing form filled her field of view, continuously revealing the turgid insides of its celestial form as her necromantic hold deepened.

“End this world.” She commanded, “Allies, foes - everything in-between. Scour every inch of life from the cosmos, and annihilate the tapestry that binds us to this plane. When all is said and done, destroy yourself. This is my one and only demand.”

Without a sound, it was gone - off to carry out her omnicidal ambitions. Lieze was alone within the endless void. Certain that the end was close, she allowed herself the leisure of sitting down. The silence made her somewhat lonely, and drew her thoughts towards a more fortunate end.

“I wish Drayya was here…” She muttered, “A shame. It would have been nice to see her…”

The light grew around her. Comforting, embracing - not at all how she imagined her end to arrive.

Heads turned.

For the Elves, it was the first time in history sunlight had ever pierced their shrouded homeland. The warmth of a distant sunrise was alien on their skin, but the growing beams cascading down from Akzhem’s canopy were not those of the planet’s star. One could tell from just a glance the sheer finality of its appearance - the advent of something terrible, something great and powerful, from beyond the cosmos.

“What the…” Roland was so stunned by the sight that he lost track of the battle completely.

“Ahh… how beautiful.” From the army’s rear, Lüngen managed a tiny smile, “I’m grateful to have lived long enough to witness this day…”

Drayya’s reaction wasn’t quite so vocal. Though she understood the events that would come to transpire, her thoughts when witnessing the growing light were focused on other matters. She wondered where Lieze could have been, knowing full-well she had almost certainly played a hand in the anomaly. Was she alone? In trouble? It was unfathomable to a younger version of Drayya that the girl could dominate her thoughts so easily, but to the modern incarnation of herself, it only seemed natural.

“Lieze…” She felt an anxious knot in her chest, “A part of me… wanted to remain by your side. I’m sure you would have preferred some company at the end of the world…”

But now there was no time for regrets. The battle was over, and though the Elves had fought fiercely, their destruction was at hand. It was not the cold grasp of the Order that would see them across the river of death, but the warm and inviting embrace of an incomprehensible force sent to annihilate them all.

Indeed, the same finality was shared between all denizens of the world at that moment. All they could discern from the light was that it represented the end of something. Perhaps they laughed. Perhaps they wept. Perhaps they begged for forgiveness. Perhaps there were even some who drew their weapons and stood stalwart in the face of oblivion. No one reaction could be called absolute.

Few who dwelled among the cosmos would recall the name of the one responsible for their annihilation. As the light swelled to consume the valleys and forests, the mountains and deserts - history as it was known would never again be repeated, and the chronicles of those responsible for its ultimate reformation would forever be lost to oblivion.

This, Lieze thought, was the only end that suited her. The product of a broken world wielding destiny to her advantage, whose name would be discarded into the abyss of time, never to be recalled. The less that remained of Lieze Sokalar - and of the plane she inhabited - the better.

Released upon the universe’s weave, the Light in Chains sowed destruction on a level never witnessed since its climactic birth. The Gods resisted its rampage, and in doing so, transformed the physical plane of reality into a battleground of titans. The conflict that resulted would not resolve for aeons, and once it did, there would be no Gods or deities to govern man, and no planets left scattered across the astral sea to house their ambitions. Lieze’s contribution as the spark that ignited such a conflict would soon be forgotten as the deific war melted into an indeterminate timeline of stellar destruction.

For Lieze and her comrades, ‘death’ was always an extension of their beliefs. They welcome it with open arms, some with eyes filled with tears and others with expression of staunch diligence, proud to have played their part in ensuring a comprehensive realisation of their beloved Order’s dogma. And, unlike Sokalar’s vision, their end was not one governed by higher forces, but a destiny carved with bloodied hands through a wall of impenetrable odds.

They waded ankle-deep through their sins towards a future sculpted with reality’s interests in mind. They were opposed, scattered, betrayed, fatefully evil and uncompromising in their beliefs. Within the soul of conflict, blood rushed in like failing tides, and between those scarlet-glutted bouts, there was camaraderie, merriment, and even love to be found. There was loss. There was friendship. There was family.

Then, at the end, there was nothing. Only warm and comforting oblivion.

- THE END -