Daughter of Death - A Necromantic LitRPG

Ricta’s garden hadn’t changed one bit. It was a reflection of his dying realm - withered and unsustainable. Even so, the fortress shadowing the weald seemed as proud as ever. Lieze felt a chill rushing past her as she wandered towards the ivy-studded entrance and let herself through the doors. It had taken her a full hour to negotiate unaided passage to the castle, but she had done it. Only a few hurdles remained between her and Ricta.

The twin passageways - one leading up, and one descending into darkness, reminded Lieze of the nightmarish events that had unfolded in the dungeons just a matter of days ago. The antechamber, drab and confined, accentuated the grandiosity of the throne room ahead, especially when it was paraded by barely a single soul. Ricta’s throne was empty, but not unattended.

Alistair Awldwin

Level ??? Priest (!???!)

HP: ??? / ??? MP: ??? / ???

Those question marks again, just like Helmach. Was there such a tremendous gap between Alistair and Lieze, or was there something more sinister at play? The old clergyman’s sagged eyes leaped to attention upon spotting her entering the room. He was trying to hide a look of disdain, but the horrors of age made any of his expressions seem villainous.

“...Miss Lieze.” The room’s acoustics guaranteed that his voice was heard, “To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?”

“You are…” She began, feigning ignorance.

“My apologies.” He bowed as deeply as his body would allow, “I am Alistair Awldwin, representative of His Eminence and direct advisor to the honourable Ricta IV.”

New Quest Received!

"Ancient Soul" - Kill Alistair Awldwin

Reward - 9,000xp

How strange, Lieze thought. The thought of killing him hadn’t even entered her mind, but the scale had spoken its piece. It was the largest reward she’d ever been offered. An intrusive desire to test his mettle right away surfaced from the depths of her subconscious, but she decided to resist the urge. She knew better than to judge a combatant by their appearance.

“It’s wonderful to meet you.” She lied, giving her most refined attempt at a curtsy, “I was under the impression that His Majesty would be present?”

“Due to a number of… unforeseen circumstances, His Majesty has retired to his quarters for the day. I am handling the administrative duties of his realm in the meantime.”

“How long have you served the king?”

“Since before he was king.” Alistair answered, “-And I served his father, Ricta III, before he was king, and his father, Ricta II, before even he was crowned.”

Just how old was he? Lieze was surprised that he could string two words together.

“I’ve come to present His Majesty with some important information.” She began, “-It’s to do with the Order of Necromancer’s activity.”

Alistair presented a problem. Lieze was certain that he wouldn’t allow her to see Ricta, and there would be no other way of ascending to the second floor without using the staircase right behind him. The old priest fell silent for a moment.

“I’m afraid I cannot allow you to speak to His Majesty in private.” He eventually responded, “Not only has he requested not to be disturbed this day, but even under any other circumstance, I simply could not allow him to remain unattended in the presence of a guest. I would be more than happy to relay this information to him myself, if you would be so kind as to divulge it.”

“I don’t think you understand the urgency of the situation.” Lieze argued, “Having requested no visitors, I doubt you would inform His Majesty immediately. The Order of Necromancers could be attacking again in less than a day. That’s why it’s imperative that I inform the king as soon as possible. I’ve already wasted too much time passing through the gatehouses.”

Her argument was full of holes. Alistair could have carefully taken his time exploring all of them, but simply nodded along to her words as if they made perfect sense. There was something off about his demeanour once she was finished speaking. It was fabricated. Dishonest.

“Hm. Well, in that case, I cannot in good faith keep you from delivering this information.” He agreed, “His Majesty’s room is located on the second floor, at the far end of the balcony. Please conduct yourself in an orderly fashion and capitulate to all expectations of a lady in court - and do apologise for interrupting the king’s rest.”

Something wasn’t right. Alistair was suddenly treating Lieze like an honoured guest, allowing her to explore the castle as she pleased. It couldn’t have been a trap, but she felt like she was being taken advantage of in some way.

“...Thank you.” Bowing, Lieze immediately took the opportunity to escape from the conversation, making her way up the second floor which afforded a luxurious view of the throne room from the balcony. A passing guard gave her a strange glance as she wandered over to the ornamented wooden doors leading into Ricta’s chambers.

She didn’t knock. There was no need. Her sudden entrance caught the young king by surprise, who was sprawled out on his canopied bed like a starfish. As Lieze closed the doors behind her, he hastily donned the crown resting on a bedside cabinet, trying to appear as refined as possible while leaping from his bed and approaching her with a furious expression.

“You dare enter a king’s quarters without making yourself known first!?” He exclaimed, “-And after I had already demanded not to be visited today!?”

“Please, Your Majesty. Yelling isn’t good for your health.” Lieze replied calmly, “I received permission from Saint Alistair to see you.”

“Alistair? That can’t be… he’s never opposed a direct order…” Ricta muttered, “Either or, this is no way to be conducting yourself in front of a king! Do you make a habit of opposing the expectations of etiquette, Miss Lieze?”

“Oh my. I’m surprised to hear that you remember me.”

“It was only a matter of days ago that we spoke for the first time, if you will recall.” He replied, “Contrary to what your Outlander beliefs may have taught you, that does not give you the right to barge into my chambers unannounced.”

“Do I seem like an Outlander to you, Your Majesty?”

“You do not seem like one, no. You are one.” He insisted, “I am a king, as you know, and a king receives luxurious tutoring. I would consider myself exceptionally well-versed in the field of morphology as is understood by our most honourable faith. Your characteristics place you squarely in the phenotypic range of the westernmost lowlanders, such as those native to the Noitr Weald, especially those mixed with Wildland nomads.”

His tirade was an incredibly roundabout way of saying that Lieze was surely some kind of impure, mixed-blood monstrosity hailing from beyond the Sovereign Cities. She had never heard of the Noitr Weald in her life.

“But I digress.” Waving a hand, Ricta dismissed the thought, “If Alistair sent you up, there must be something of grave importance you have to discuss with me.”

Lieze needed to proceed carefully. She would only have a single chance to intimidate Ricta into inaction. If she revealed too much, or didn’t apply enough pressure, it was likely she’d be walking out of the castle in chains.

Ricta IV

Level 9 Duelist

HP: 165 / 165 MP - 144 / 144

He was pitifully weak, despite the training he’d no doubt received from a captain of the guard throughout his life. This was the man who held Tonberg in his grasp? Lieze had always suspected that he was ill-suited to the throne, but if his willpower was even half as impressive as his strength, she’d have no trouble at all negotiating with him.

“What are you staring at?” Ricta spoke after a beat, “I don’t find it offensive in the slightest if you’re stricken with my features. I’ve had no less than 300 marriage proposals from the most influential noble families since I turned 5 years old.”

The life of a lady wasn’t for Lieze. That sounded like utter damnation to her.

“You recall the gala, don’t you?” She began.

“Naturally. Presuming you’re referring to the most recent ball.”

“Me and a companion of mine - the woman by my side when we first met - ended up having a bit too much to drink. We may have allowed ourselves into an off-limits section of the castle.”

“Oh, you cannot possibly understand how many times I’ve heard something like this.” Ricta replied, “Why, last time, a guest managed to pick the lock of the wine cellar-”

“I’m not talking about the wine cellar.” Lieze interrupted, “In the antechamber, there’s a dark passageway. It leads down to a dungeon of sorts. That’s where we ended up.”

“...Is that so?” His face straightened out.

“Things were a little fuzzy, but I recall that not all of the cells were empty. And, it may have just been my overactive imagination, but I could have sworn we heard some kind of terrible cry from the depths.”

Ricta’s eyes darted to the left. Lieze followed his gaze towards a fine rapier propped up haphazardly in the corner of the room. As she stepped towards it, Ricta erupted into a mad dash in an attempt to stop her, unable to close the gap before she managed to take the shielded grip in one hand. His next plan was to run for the doors, which was quickly snuffed out as the thin blade hovered towards him, forcing the boy king towards the chamber wall.

“Are you planning on leaving so soon? We’d barely even started our conversation.”

“You witch…” Ricta eyed the blade anxiously, “Who are you, really?”

“I’m offended that you don’t know, to be quite frank.” Tightening her grip on the handle, Lieze made certain not to show a shred of weakness, “Ignas Sokalar does have a daughter.”

“You’re with the Order…” He concluded, “Many of your ilk have attempted to steal this crown, but their legions have been repelled every time. You are the first to ever have a chance at my life, so why won’t you take it?”

“I’ve discovered the secret hidden away in your dungeon, Ricta.”

“My- the monstrosity, yes. I suspected as much.” He replied, “So you were the one to end its pitiful existence? I’m not certain whether to be enraged or thankful.”

“It was your sister.”

“I have no sister!”

His declaration was fierce enough to make Lieze drop her guard for a moment. He didn’t attempt to hide the desperation in his tone, as if denying a truth known to all. It was a defence mechanism. Acknowledging the true nature of the bird-thing would destroy his mind.

“...So you’ve come with the intent of threatening me, have you?” A beat passed before he continued, “Perhaps you think you’re in a position of authority at the moment, but what’s stopping me from simply calling for the guards? You’ve wandered straight into the lion’s den with no consideration for your own safety.”

“Do it, then.”

“...What?”

“Call for the guards. Scream until your voice gives out. As soon as you do, I’ll run this blade through your heart.” Lieze challenged, “Such a noble king you are - willing to sacrifice yourself to preserve the security of your kingdom.”

“You question my resolve?” Ricta clenched his teeth.

“Not at all. If you want to summon your men, then I won’t try to stop you.”

The boy king’s supremacist spiel regarding Lieze’s heritage had exposed a part of him that she could use to her advantage. He was a man who cared deeply about the preservation of his bloodline. Raising pure children who would inherit the kingdom for centuries to come. His grand legacy was an irreplaceable ambition, but one he could never hope to attain if he perished without siring a single heir.

“What’s wrong?” After a few seconds of silence, Lieze continued to push him, “You could end my life right now if it pleases you. Granted, you would pay with your own in return, but is that not the sort of burden a king must bear?”

“You conniving worm…” Ricta seethed, “What demands do you intend to make of me? Do you desire the crown?”

“Oh no. Nothing as grand as that.” Lieze smirked, “In exchange for withholding information regarding the terrible beast you were imprisoning in your dungeon, I simply ask for you to turn a blind eye to my operations within the city.”

“Preposterous!” He spat, “The beast is dead! Once I can organise the disposal of its body, your bargaining chip will be forfeit! You should have thought twice before killing it so hastily!”

“Is that so?” Lieze tilted her head, “And tell me, do you plan on hacking its body into pieces yourself in order to move it out of the chamber? The deformed corpse of your own sister?”

“Don’t you dare call that monstrosity my sister…” Ricta warned, “-And what makes you think I would be doing it myself? I would simply…”

“-Have the guards do it for you?” Lieze finished, “I wonder… just how many of your men are aware of the horror that once lurked in your dungeon? Would you expect them to remain infallibly loyal even in the face of such depravity?”

Ricta fell silent. She couldn’t say for certain just how many of his guards were aware of the bird-thing, but his failure to answer told her that she’d struck the nail right on the head. He had nobody to rely on. Perhaps not even Alistair. He was alone in tolerating its existence.

“...What do you mean by ‘turning a blind eye’, exactly?” He asked.

“Simply put, I have enemies in this city. Enemies in need of extermination.” She explained, “All I ask is that you refrain from launching an investigation into the origins of any undead sightings within the city.”

“What you ask of me is impossible.” He stated plainly, “An undead sighting in the city would have both the guards and the Church up in arms. That kind of uproar is beyond my control.”

“I don’t believe that.” Lieze countered, “If anyone so much as questions your authority as king, I would expect you to persecute them.”

“That’s despotic!”

“Perhaps. But I’m not giving you a choice in the matter.” She continued, “If I hear so much as a rumour that you plan on exposing my operations in Tonberg, or have failed to curb your servants’ efforts to do so, then I will spare no expenses in guaranteeing that the legend of the ‘Devil’s Castle’ is spread far and wide.”

“You cur…” His insult was deflated, as if fearful of overstepping boundaries, “-And if I agree to these terms, you will allow me to live?”

“Certainly.” Lieze vowed, “Do you see? This is a mutually-beneficial relationship. I am given the immunity necessary to carry out my own plans, while you are allowed to continue warming the throne.”

“Do not patronise me… I understand full-well the implications this has for the kingdom.” He resisted, “The Gildwyrm’s appearance was a miracle… one paid for in penance. Perhaps you are the angel of death sent to collect that price.”

There was an undeniable truth to his accusation. The Gildwyrm itself had stated something similar, albeit in more flowery terms. Was that why she had been granted the scale to begin with? Was she destined to bring Tonberg to its knees as divine punishment for calling upon the power of a God?”

“Do we have a deal, then?” Lieze’s blade didn’t waver.

“...Hah.” Ricta sighed, “A deal? No. I won’t lower myself to negotiating with a necromancer. This is plain extortion.”

“Call it whatever you like. But do you submit to my terms?”

“...Yes.” He admitted wholeheartedly, “Now get out of my sight.”

“Gladly.” Lowering the rapier, Lieze reached for her Bag of Holding and slid the blade into its confines while backstepping towards the exit, “I’ll be keeping that.”

“Feel free. I can simply find another.”

Without wasting a moment, Lieze threw open the doors and disappeared through the gap, leaving Ricta in even more of a dismal state than he was before she arrived. In a matter of moments, he had abandoned his pride as a ruler in order to save his own skin, striking a bargain that would almost certainly spell the end of his own domain.