Daughter of Death - A Necromantic LitRPG

Lieze watched her breath disappear into the rainy afternoon air as she and Drayya emerged from the hidden cellar. Having to exert her authority over a potential thorn in her side was a new sensation - one which exhausted her. For years, she’d been the one taking orders instead of giving them, and weathering threats as opposed to doling them out. A reserved breath was all she needed to steel herself for the rest of the day’s events.

While crossing over from the destroyed eastern district to the south, Lieze had trouble identifying the point at which the two quadrants met. A severe dilapidation had struck the less-fortunate homes of those lingering near that forgotten corner of the city. Bitter smoke poured from the peeling windowsills on high as conversations on the street were distracted with fits of coughing. Lieze bit her upper lip to hide a smile as she revelled in the fruits of her Nightcrawlers, knowing full-well the citizenry’s declining health was down to her own scheming.

“There are a lot of choices we need to be making, Lieze.” Drayya muttered, “Choices regarding strategy, engagement, supplies; the security of our hideout, the reinforcement of our thralls, the nailing down of our enemies…”

“I know. And if we don’t act quickly, Alistair will dig his heels in and push for a war of attrition - one we simply can’t hope to win.” Lieze agreed, “I’d like to start taking things easier, as you’re often so quick to suggest, but I fear we’ve yet to see the riskiest stretch of this conflict.”

“I’m interested in seeing what that old fool has planned for the city.” Drayya continued, “He knows very well that the Sovereign Cities are doomed to be conquered by the Order, and yet he’s preparing for war. Ricta was very much the same, only his arrogance was born from inexperience. I fear Alistair isn’t quite so gullible.”

As they walked, Lieze took note of the staggering subservience on display from Tonberg’s citizens. In the wake of Ricta’s abdication, priests of the Church - now granted the judicial power to pass judgement as fiercely as they pleased - wasted no time demanding searches of any estates or establishments thought to be harbouring forbidden dissidence. From doors being kicked in to ‘trials’ being conducted openly on the streets - and not a single man standing up to speak against the city’s sudden shift towards draconian enforcement.

Hopeless, foolish people. Citizens content with having their rights plucked away, deluded by temptations of deliverance from the Order’s cruel machinations. Another product of ‘life’ - that which, by Lieze’s metric, was a corruption of the very soul in dire need of elimination.

“In these dark times, the Wyrm’s embrace shall be a comfort to all who have been rejected by ‘love’, made martyrs by the unknowable trials of the Lord…” From a rain-soaked handbook, a hooded priest recited verses while two of his compatriots dragged a fellow out from his home by the ankles, “-Spare not the sinner, for he knows well what he does. Let those who invite destruction into their homes be abandoned by purity, and allow the wise man, who rejects evil at its very source, to drink deep the waters of heaven for his trouble.”

Something glimmered in a light descending from the cloud-choked sky - the steel head of an axe raised with triumph above the head of a silent priest. Judge, jury, and executioner - in the world desired by the Church of the Golden Dragon, those chosen anointed would be all three. Lieze and Drayya observed from a distance as the screaming fellow found his head separated from his shoulders in plain view of horrified families enjoying an afternoon stroll.

“Animals.” Lieze made certain to whisper those words, “All of these fools - wild beasts searching for every opportunity to bear their fangs. Such is the tiresome nature of life that man can only hope to attain so-called ‘true’ happiness by trampling his fellows.”

“Your own hatred is a manifestation of life in and of itself.” Drayya replied, “We are neither the bearers of truth nor the salvation these people desire. All we can do is claim to understand the true nature of things, accelerating mankind and its siblings towards a conclusion that separates suffering from the equation.”

“Hm. Let’s return to the hideout. I’ve seen enough of Alistair’s Tonberg to be satisfied.” Lieze turned her back, wandering in the direction of the city gates, “We have work to do.”

The cave once infested with Kobolds had transformed into quite the bustling hub of villainy. Another wagon had arrived from Saptra, full to bursting with nose-turning corpses. Marché was ferrying the newest batch of thralls into the hideout when Lieze and Drayya returned.

“We’ve started to amass quite the force.” He reported, “-We’ve bounced back from the losses incurred by Helmach’s attack. There are too many thralls now to get a clear headcount without gathering them all up.”

“Where is Helmach’s corpse, by the way?” Lieze asked, “I do hope he’s still a corpse?”

“Of course. In a manner very much expected of her, Drayya made a thinly-veiled threat about the removal of my remaining eye if I dared to raise him as a thrall without your permission.” He replied, “His body is currently resting in the crypt.”

If the cult was going to stand a chance against the fearsome might of Tonberg, Lieze would have to begin treating her forces less like a convenient source of flesh and more like an army. While the Briarknight and Rot Behemoth had been instrumental in their victory against Helmach, there was always room to improve the capabilities of less-privileged thralls through the use of [Necromantic Alchemy].

“You’re planning on raising Helmach?” Drayya stuck her head out in front of Lieze as the two of them wandered into the hideout.

“No. I’m not capable of raising him as I am now.” She admitted, “But you are. As a Briarknight, naturally.”

“It’s so easy to forget that I still have you outmatched with all this confidence you’ve been displaying these past few days.” Drayya smirk flattened out, “...But then, I suppose that won’t be for long, will it? With your God-given strength, and all.”

“I hope that won’t be a problem.”

“You certainly won’t hear me complaining about having an ally who only grows stronger by the day.” She replied, “But I do find that unchecked strength is often a path to baseless pride. I wouldn’t want you to become full of yourself, especially when one mistake could cost us our lives.”

Drayya was just as cunning as Lieze was, if not moreso. As the daughter of the Order’s previous leader, she had been avoiding assassination attempts from her ambitious peers since before she was old enough to speak. She understood better than most the intoxicating nature of power, and though her tone was as insufferable as ever, Lieze could tell she was speaking with the girl’s best interests in mind.

“That won’t happen.” She vowed.

“Let’s hope not.” Turning her back, Drayya stepped towards the granite incline leading up to the hideout’s rear chambers, “A Briarknight, did you say? I’ll get to work on it, so please don’t disturb me unless someone manages to drown themselves in the blood barrel.”

Drayya would need at least 6 hours to transform Helmach into a Briarknight. Lieze had a similar plan for the rest of the night. Both Noel and Louanbona’s corpses were prime candidates for Briarknights, but Louanbona in particular was gifted with a terrifyingly large physique - so large, in fact, that Lieze was forced to rope in a number of Marché’s followers to lug his foetid body out of the thrall-engorged crypt.

6 hours was quite the commitment for a single thrall, but the strength displayed by the Briarknight created from Stürm’s corpse during the battle with Helmach had demonstrated their supreme effectiveness. Moreover, a problem was arising within the cult that was in serious need of addressing. Namely, the fact that it was no longer possible to mobilise every last thrall with the combined might of Lieze and her comrades’ necromancy. Therefore, it was more efficient to prioritise stronger, individual undead rather than cultivate sheer manpower.

Secret Quest "Eternal Solitude" Complete!

Description - Control 3 or more Briarknights simultaneously

Reward - 2,200xp

Level Up!

You are now level [25]

HP + 5 MP + 50

MIND + 1

Milestone Reached!

[Greater Necromancy (lvl. 1)] has been upgraded to [Greater Necromancy (lvl. 2)]

Description - Use 45MP to reanimate a creature of level 40 or below. The creature's level as an undead thrall equals 1.75x its original level, rounded down. You can maintain a number of thralls equal to 2.5x your level, rounded down.

[Necromantic Alchemy (lvl. 4)] has been upgraded to [Necromantic Alchemy (lvl. 5)]

Enhancements Learned - [Lesser Intelligence]

Unique Undead Learned - [Dark Caster]

Technique Learned!

Type: [Spell] Name: [Levitation]

Description - Use 100MP to magically levitate yourself up to 20 feet off the ground. The spell ends automatically if you take more than [15%] of your maximum HP from a single source of damage while levitating

The tirade of information which flooded her senses every time she reached a milestone was starting to become quite tiresome - though she couldn’t deny that the rush of immediate power was always welcome. At first, Lieze wasn’t certain of how to feel about her scale. As a ‘gift’ from the Gildwyrm, she had every right to detest its strength. But without it, she was nothing - the same dead weight she had always been. There could be no returning to that life. She wouldn’t allow it.

“I’m finally powerful enough to levitate… that places me squarely with most of the other Deathguards in the Order…” She thought, “If my father knew of this… I wonder what his reaction would be?”

Restrained elation. In a manner very much expected of him, Sokalar would find a way to insult her while demanding that she serve his will wholeheartedly. A flicker of quiet and shameful hope in the back of her mind was extinguished in an instant. Shaking her head to dispel the thought, Lieze returned her attention to the 2 newest additions to the hideout.

Briarknight

Level 84 Undead

HP: 8,140 / 8,140 MP: 0 / 0

BODY - 73 / MIND - 0 / SOUL - 11

Briarknight

Level 38 Undead

HP: 3,991 / 3,991 MP: 0 / 0

BODY - 33 / MIND - 0 / SOUL - 5

“Wha-” Lieze took a step back, “Level 84!?”

“What are you going on about?” Drayya crossed her arms.

“It’s…” She paused to sigh, “...That’s quite the impressive thrall.”

“Isn’t it just?” Drayya grinned, “Helmach was already quite the impressive specimen, but with a touch of necromancy, his strength has been augmented to a level unattainable by any man. I would wager he’s even more of a threat than the Wraith now.”

A deep satisfaction rose from Lieze’s chest as she witnessed the same man who had been relentlessly pursuing her reduced to a subservient puppet more than eager to carry out any atrocity she desired. But even so - [84] was a level that edged on the precipice of almighty. With a combination of strength, durability and serviceable intelligence, the Briar-Helmach was more than capable of commanding a number of the hideout’s thralls.

“That’s the thing about being near a city - we always have an abundance of powerful candidates for thraldom.” Drayya explained, “Why, I doubt even Master Sokalar has ever managed to create such a fine thrall with the peeling scraps he has available in the catacombs.”

“Now who’s acting ambitious?” Lieze joked.

“Speaking of - I wonder how much longer he plans on waiting before making another move on Tonberg?” Drayya placed a hand to her chin, “It can’t be long now. His expectations have always been unreasonable, so he’ll assume I’ve already managed to conquer half the city by now.”

“Hm…” Lieze lowered her head, “That’s true…”

Her father.

Ever since her awakening in that Dwarven clinic, Sokalar had seldom crossed her mind. The fact remained that she and Drayya were still members of the Order - servants to a greater purpose and the executors of her father’s will. Lieze’s life would be made a lot easier by her father’s appearance, but somehow, she found herself desiring just a little more time to develop her cult.

“Hah… and it’s so quiet without Graeme shouting down our ears, too.” Drayya lamented, “Or, perhaps they’ve simply forgotten about us? They’ve almost certainly forgotten about you, Lieze.”

“Perhaps.” She replied, “-But I have no intention of sitting around and waiting for the cavalry to arrive. My father can forget about me if it pleases him. My goals still haven’t changed.”