Daughter of Death - A Necromantic LitRPG

As day turned to night, Lieze worked tirelessly to embolden the cult’s strength. Drayya returned a matter of hours after her departure, having put aside her sentimentality to further the Order’s cause. Together, the twin leaders of Tonberg’s necromancers created a vile array of Nightcrawler Breeders attached to the cavern walls. It would be another day before all 4 of them would begin to produce the critters.

MP - 447/475

In the meantime, Lieze supplied her first Breeder - which had matured some time ago - with fresh blood, making use of a bucket that Drayya borrowed from the Dwarven workers to fill their distended bellies. When all was said and done, there was nothing to do but wait. A luxury neither of them could afford.

“It’s time we made a real effort to dethrone Helmach.” Lieze proclaimed, “We should visit the city. Scout out his precinct. See how many Acolytes we’re really dealing with.”

“Didn’t you get captured the last time you went strolling around the city at night?” Drayya frowned.

“I’ve learned from my mistakes.”

“Have you, now…”

“We need to start establishing a presence in Tonberg.” She continued, “Too much time spent plotting and scheming. The sooner Helmach dies, the sooner we can turn our attention to Ricta.”

“You won’t hear any complaints from me.”

-And that was that. Drayya’s baseless confidence warmed Lieze’s heart.

Alma was instructed to watch over the hideout while the two of them departed for the city. The route had become so ingrained in Lieze’s mind that she could have walked it with her eyes closed. A dead chill was in the air that night.

Helmach’s crumbling precinct was located in the city’s northern quarter. Clear evidence of Drayya’s ceaseless rampage through the district on the day of the siege brought a smile to the girl’s face.

“What I wouldn’t give for that army back…” She muttered, “Accursed Gildwyrm…”

“Be quiet.” Lieze demanded somewhat forcefully, “We can’t let the Acolytes discover us.”

“Who’s to say they aren’t already stalking us from the shadows?”

“The attack Baccharum launched on the precinct ended with many of the Acolytes dead or incapacitated. They’ll be more focused on him than us for the time being.”

It was the first time Lieze was approaching the precinct, as opposed to escaping from it, and also her first time seeing the building from the outside. It was a terrible wreck, fit for neither priests nor vigilantes.

“...You peek.” Lieze requested.

“Me?” Drayya pointed to herself as if anyone else was present.

“M-My hair…” She averted her gaze, “It’s too visible from a distance. Yours is black.”

“They also wouldn’t recognise me, but…”

“Wait, wait!”

Lieze yanked the girl back by her robes around the corner of a dilapidated building. Someone was emerging from the precinct. Someone much too tall and with shoulders much too broad and with a greatsword much too large to be mistaken. Though he was wearing a grass cloak with the hood up, there was no mistaking such a gargantuan figure.

“...He’s leaving.” Drayya whispered, poking her head around the corner, “That’s him, isn’t it?”

Lieze nodded.

“Briar’s thorns… look at the size of that sword…” Drayya observed, confidence slowly beginning to wane, “What are they feeding these royalists?”

She felt something poking her back. Lieze’s voice was almost inaudible, “After him.”

“You want to follow him? That doesn’t seem to me like a fantastic idea…”

“It’s the middle of the night. Where could he possibly be going?” Lieze replied, “If we can isolate his schedule, it will be simpler to corner him if we ever need to.”

“How impatient…”

Despite her protesting, Drayya seemed just as curious about Helmach’s destination as Lieze was. Or perhaps she was just looking for an excuse to distance herself from the precinct. In either case, tailing the man through the northern district without being spotted turned out to be quite the farce. Not only were the streets deserted, but slinking through alleyways while trying to keep Helmach in their sights while also trying to avoid crossing paths with him was a discipline that neither of them were particularly skilled in.

Helmach’s path led him on a westerly loop around the city, crossing out of the northern district into the lonely commoner’s quarter, where shadows danced in the lights of warm kitchens and chanting from the nearby pub could be heard from several streets away. His meandering down the throughways eventually concluded in the south. The abodes of nobles close to the city square seemed to loom over the street.

A church pierced through the rooftop crest, tucked between a bakery and a butcher’s. It was one of countless in the city - unremarkable, and yet Helmach had deemed it worthy of a visit so late into the night. Lieze and Drayya were left idling by the entrance like a pair of hooligans after he closed the doors upon entering, wondering what the next step could possibly be.

“Give me your robe.” Lieze held out a hand and wiggled her fingers.

“...And why would I do that? It’s freezing.” Drayya’s breath wisped out into the midnight air as if to prove a point.

“Helmach has never seen you before. If you aren’t wearing your robe, he won’t be able to tell that you’re affiliated with me.” She explained, “Just pop in for a few moments and see what he’s up to. Act like you’re there to pray.”

“What are you expecting to learn from this, exactly?”

“Honestly? Not that much.” Lieze’s candour was refreshing, “But who knows? Now - your robe.”

“Alright, alright!” Slipping out of her Order uniform, Drayya readjusted the collar of her shirt before dropping the robe into Lieze’s hands, “Now, go squat in an alleyway somewhere so he doesn’t see you on the way out.”

“As you wish.”

Drayya was filled with a certain repulsion as she approached the church. To her, there was no greater insult than being forced to act like a worshipper of the Gildwyrm. The temperature inside wasn’t much more tolerable. Without light filtering through the stained-glass windows, the interior seemed almost villainous. Two pairs of eyes found her as soon as she started opening the door. A man’s and a woman’s, their silhouettes barely illuminated by candlelight.

“Oh my.” A voice called, “Another visitor, this late at night?”

A bas-relief in the Gildwyrm’s image had been painstakingly carved into the furthest wall. In the low light, it seemed more like a tyrant than a deity. Helmach, who was near-prostrated at the base, quickly picked himself up as soon as he heard Drayya entering.

“I should be leaving, my lady.” He bowed to the woman.

“Didn’t you only just come in a few minutes ago?” It was impossible to tell her expression in the darkness, “I understand. Go with the Dragon, Helmach.”

He paused, “...Go with the Dragon.”

Helmach’s greatsword, which had been propped up against the back wall, seemed like a toy as he effortlessly picked the hunk of steel up and returned it to the oversized harness on his back. His heavy footsteps bounced from the walls as he and Drayya crossed paths on the nave. There was a pronounced viciousness in his eyes as they exchanged glances - pure hatred crystallised into a glare that seemed to pierce through Drayya’s soul. An instant later, he nodded his head.

“Pardon me.” He excused himself calmly, “Go with the Dragon.”

The doors creaked open, and then he was gone. Drayya was suddenly alone with the woman standing near the bas-relief. She seemed at first to be a mundane sister of the faith, but her supreme composure suggested that the sight of Helmach hadn’t bothered her in the slightest. As Drayya approached, she flashed a brilliant smile.

“Our Lord welcomes every servant, no matter the hour.” Her voice was infectiously delighted, “Won’t you take a moment to express your love for the Wyrm? Or perhaps offer a prayer to the departed, or the downtrodden?”

“I’m surprised your doors are still open this late at night.” Drayya replied, “Who was that man? He didn’t seem very pleased to be interrupted.”

“Ah, you mean Helmach?” The sister clasped her hands, “Such a devoted worshipper, and yet so troubled…”

“Troubled? How so?”

“Well… it isn’t polite to gossip. Wouldn’t you agree?”

“I’m actually very interested in hearing more.” Drayya insisted “-Helmach, you said? The leader of the Acolytes of Reunification? This is a rather strange place for him to be at this hour, isn’t it?”

“Oh, no. It’s the complete opposite.” The sister’s reply came, “Helmach has been coming here to pray ever since he was first inducted into the priesthood. His home is nearby, you see.”

“I was under the impression that the Church didn’t recognise the Acolytes’ authority?”

“Oh, this was long before he joined the Acolytes.”

“You sound familiar with him.”

“Well, I ought to be after tending to this church for so long.” Saying that, she turned towards the bas-relief, “It’s difficult to see in this darkness, but it’s quite impressive, isn’t it? Commissioned by the late king to commemorate the nation’s victory against Kazor Nict.”

“Is that so…”

“I suppose it brings Helmach some modicum of comfort.” The sister continued, “After the loss of his dear sister… I fear he’s struggling to cope. He deserves a better life than this, especially after the cruelty of his childhood.”

“Do you support the Acolytes?”

She nodded, “I think it’s commendable, trying to restore the city’s traditional values.”

“Most of those ‘values’ involve exiling and slaughtering nonhumans.” Drayya replied.

“I would call that an exaggeration of our beliefs. We simply live as the Lord demands.” She argued, “Co-existing with nonhumans… wouldn’t you agree that there are some aspects of our cultures which are simply incompatible with one-another?”

“Does that justify culling them like wild animals?”

“You misunderstand… the Sovereign Cities would never incite violence in such a ruthless manner. Horrifying occasions like the Candria Square Massacre were most often instigated by nonhumans to begin with…”

“Is that so?”

“Yes.” The sister’s smile widened. A cruel expression, “By remaining separate, we can preserve our individual cultures and bloodlines. But the reformation has greatly limited the priesthood’s diplomatic sway… there are many who would claim that the Church is but a shadow of its former self. Visionaries such as Helmach, however, are willing to take matters into their own hands to uphold our sacred beliefs…”

“Innocent deaths don’t bother you in the least?”

The nun’s smile dropped in an instant.

“Do they bother you?” She tilted her head, “I wouldn’t think so, considering the foul nature of your own dogma. Or would I be mistaken in that assumption, Margoh Drayya?”

“Wha-”

“Why, your own father revelled in the slaughter of thousands as he and his legions marched towards Bascoroch. None were spared from his wrath; Not women, not children, not the elderly…” She continued, “The price for such wickedness was steep, however. I remember well the animosity of his screams as he was paraded around the city square day after day, branded by the irons of the Dragon Cardinals or pelted by the stones of widowers and fatherless children. It was a poor day when the life went out of him - a rainy day.”

Drayya’s dagger flew into her hands before she knew what was happening. The sister stared at the outstretched blade with an expression that seemed neither offended nor particularly threatened.

“You maggot…” Drayya clenched her teeth, “Don’t you dare speak ill of my father.”

“I find it amusing that you would immediately rush to defend him, as if his actions weren’t exactly what you were attempting to demonise just moments ago.” She replied, “You necromancers speak of deliverance from the mortal coil, but the truth of your perverted obsession with death is plain for all to see.”

“I wouldn’t expect a dog of the Gildwyrm to understand.” Drayya circled the nun, “What’s your game? If you knew who I was to begin with, why didn’t you tell Helmach?”

“Oh, there’s no need to worry about that.” She smiled, “I’m sure he’s just as certain of your identity as I am. But murdering someone in the home of our Lord is sacrilege, you must understand.”

“Is that so? It’s a shame I have no such reservations.”

Nothing particular could be said about Drayya’s lunge besides mentioning its distinct lack of grace. She was no warrior. But neither was the nun. Even so, she found her dagger unable to travel further than a few feet from the sister’s chest, the tip catching against some kind of transparent blockade, sending ripples of force around its spherical circumference.

“A magical barrier!?” Drayya retreated immediately, putting a few paces between them, “You’re no mere nun.”

“I prefer not to draw any untowards attention.” She replied, “Unfortunately, I am a servant of the Lord before anything else, which forbids me from bringing harm to you in this sacred place.”

Drayya was being offered an opportunity to escape. Her pride was monstrous enough to consider the possibility of standing her ground, but the sparks of rationality roiling beneath forced her to look at the situation realistically. She had no thralls against an enemy who could easily repel all of her blows. She cursed under her breath. Handing the Wraith over to Marché hadn’t been the best idea after all.

“I won’t forget your face.” She promised that much while retreating towards the nave, “When the time comes, I’ll sink this dagger into your spine myself. You can be certain of that.”

She didn’t wait for a response. The sister’s gaze burned into her back as she turned tail and sprinted towards the doors, barging out into the freezing streets of the city square. Thankfully, Helmach wasn’t there to greet her on the way out.

“Drayya!” A hushed voice caught her attention. From a nearby alleyway, Lieze’s head of pure-white hair really was quite easy to spot in the dark, “Over here!”

“Lieze…” Drayya threw a glance over her shoulder as she went to the girl’s side, “We have to leave. Now.”

“What’s wrong? I saw Helmach leaving just a few-”

“I’ll tell you on the way.” She interrupted, hurriedly taking hold of the girl’s wrist, “For now, we have to go somewhere else. Anywhere else.”

There was no denying the panic in her tone. Lieze blinked in surprise, only to nod a second later.

“R-Right.” She replied, “Let’s head for the tavern, in that case.”