Daughter of Death - A Necromantic LitRPG

Using the Supreme Mana Potions acquired from Baccharum, Lieze spent most of the day occupying herself with the raising of thralls in preparation for the attack on the northern district. Most of the corpses in the cemetery were civilians lucky to have levels higher than [2] or [3], but the priests who had been defeated the night before were a different story. Most of them were above level [10], and those numbers were only inflated by the empowering touch of Lieze’s [Greater Necromancy].

As the last of the thralls arrived from the hideout’s crypt, Marché’s cultists began transforming the weakest of the Gravewalkers into more deadly forms - syphoning blood from the especially weak to create Flesh Elementals and using the exsanguinated flesh to begin the creation of new Rot Behemoths. Lieze herself was interested in trying out a new addition to her ever-expanding repertoire of undead monstrosities.

Ability - Necromantic Alchemy (Create Dark Caster)

Description - Spend 30 minutes to transform a Gravewalker of at least level [10] into a Dark Caster. These sorcerous, atrophied undead are physically weak, but capable of wielding magical foci to cast the low-level [Evocation] spells [Magic Missile] and [Fire Bolt].

Dark Casters weren’t very popular with the Order’s necromancers due to their reliance on a forbidden school of magic. As such, Lieze had no reference point for how effective they would be in a combat situation. She did know, however, that [Magic Missile] was an incredibly useful spell, able to strike unerringly. But with that said, she would need to discover a reliable method of sourcing magical foci before adding Dark Casters to her army.

New Quest Received!

"Source of Sorcery" - Acquire 20 magical foci by any means necessary

Reward - 1,900xp

-There was also the matter of her [Heavenly Favours] to consider. Through pure misfortune, she had managed to collect two of the worst possible favours. [Supreme Regeneration] was suited to warriors rather than sorcerers, and [Destroy Undead] was quite simply counterintuitive. She knew of only two other so-called ‘Scions’ - Alistair and Furainé, who she would need to kill in order to absorb their powers.

New Quest Received!

"Power Everlasting" - Become the Scion of Evocation

Reward - 2,000xp

New Quest Received!

"Impenetrable Defence" - Become the Scion of Abjuration

Reward - 1,200xp

“Evocation… Abjuration… are these the schools connected to Alistair and Furainé?” She thought, “If I am the [Gildwyrm], and Helmach was the [Blackbriar]… that would make Alistair the [Prima Materia] and Furainé the [Cosmic Mirror]...”

The school of Evocation focused on the manifestation of elemental powers. Most commonly, they took the form of projectiles such as [Fire Bolt], but it was also possible for especially high-level evokers to summon primal phenomena such as earthquakes and tornadoes. The God of evocation - or, the ‘patron’ - was known as the Prima Materia.

On the other hand, Abjuration was the art of magical defence. It manifested most commonly in the form of barriers and wards, and at higher levels was capable of nullifying magic entirely. Its patron was known as the Cosmic Mirror.

Lieze recalled her evenings spent in the Order’s archives under the tutelage of Bardy Lüngen. The patrons of Evocation and Abjuration were examples of Gods that displayed no characteristics of intelligence in mythology. Rather, they were more akin to divine treasures or relics capable of extraordinary power. A similar case could be seen with the patron of Restoration - the Spring of Immortality.

“That matches up with what we’ve seen from Furainé so far… always creating barriers.” Lieze muttered, “But Alistair… he hasn’t so much as lifted a finger against us. If my scale is telling the truth about his nature, then he’s secretly a powerful Evoker…”

It was an invaluable piece of information. Up to that point, Lieze had assumed Alistair was nothing but an old man. She would need to exercise caution around him in the future.

“But if that’s the case… why didn’t he…”

“Lieze!”

Drayya interrupted her train of thought, wandering into the busy gatehouse with a sheet of parchment waving in one hand. She wrinkled her nose at the pungent scent of blood wafting from the enormous barrel pushed into one corner.

“Have a look at this.” She held the letter out, causing a fleck of blood to escape from one side, “One of Marché’s followers found it on that bishop who was barking orders at the priests last night.”

Lieze took the parchment and shook it to dispel the rest of the blood soaking into the paper, but only accomplished the opposite as the congealing fluid stuck to the surface like glue. With a sigh, she abandoned the effort and began reading.

Sir Godfrey Graf III,

The east is silent. Not one guard has returned from their post, and your fair king - His Most Gracious Majesty Alistair Awldwyn, first of his name, has demanded that an investigation be launched into the likelihood of necromancers having escaped into the district.

To this end, he has granted your honourable self the command of 118 men - 20 devotees, 39 holy adepts, and 59 pikemen - to scour the district and eliminate any evidence of forbidden heresy. His Majesty is aware of the good Sir’s desire to prove himself, and so this mission shall serve as a test of his faith.

Defeat will not be forgiven.

Yours,

Furainé Morgan

“This woman seems to have her fingers curled around just about every pillar of Alistair’s rule…” Lieze muttered, “I understand she’s the daughter of a Sage, but…”

“She’s one of your kind, isn’t she?” Drayya tilted her head.

“What - the children of artificial wombs?” Lieze replied, “I wouldn’t call us ‘one of a kind’ as if anyone else in the world could possibly relate to us.”

“No, no… she’s a Scion.” Drayya clarified, “Alistair is, too, and so was Helmach. Isn’t it only natural that the two of them would be working together?”

“I suppose. But why?”

“Why indeed…” She paused, “Anyway - this letter confirms what we’ve been fearing all along. Alistair is convinced we’re set up in the eastern district, and by this time tomorrow, he’s going to be awfully concerned about his priests vanishing.”

“-By this time tomorrow, we’ll have yet another district under our control.” Lieze allowed the letter to slip through her fingers, “Considering the castle is only assailable from the southern district, it would make perfect sense if the north was the least-defended. As far as Alistair is concerned, it doesn’t have any strategic importance.”

“That’s not to say he’ll be pleased by us taking it.” Drayya crossed her arms.

“Not at all. And I’m sure he won’t show any restraint once we’re out in the open.” She said, “But we have no other choice. Whether he pushes back or not, we must attack. We don’t have the freedom of considering every option.”

“So…” Drayya bobbed her head in an expectant manner.

“Gather the cult up in the cemetery.” Lieze ordered, “It’s time to plan our attack strategy.”

Lieze had never taken the time to get a precise headcount on the cult’s members. Having them all bundled together for the first time since discovering Marché’s hideout beneath the city made it simple to do so. All in all, her congregation of ne'er-do-wells was composed of 18 necromancers. Lieze found some pride in having accomplished so much with so few resources at hand.

“Before we begin, I must understand the distribution of our current forces.” She projected her voice throughout the cemetery, “Marché?”

The red-haired necromancer nodded and stepped forward.

“As it stands, we currently command around 440 thralls.” He reported, “The vast majority of those are Gravewalkers - about 95%, if I had to guess. The remainder are comprised of Horrors, Fleshbags, Briarknights, and Rot Behemoths in descending order of frequency.”

“What about the level distribution of our Gravewalkers?”

“The level…” Marché blinked, “Excuse me?”

“Uh- what I mean to ask is, how many of our Gravewalkers are fit to engage in open combat with guards and the like?”

She made a mistake. Drayya was the only member of the cult who knew about the power of her scale, and even she wouldn’t understand what a ‘level’ was. Lieze felt a tingle of strangeness knowing that everyone else besides herself, Alistair, and Furainé couldn’t be so certain about the capabilities of their subordinates.

“...It’s difficult to say for certain, but as a result of your decision to forbid the act of raising to anyone but yourself, me, or Drayya, about half of the Gravewalkers we control are significantly more powerful than they would have been otherwise - especially those raised from the priests.”

“Has that affected our numbers, as you predicted?” Lieze asked.

“Yes. The cemetery still has plenty of corpses. We could have raised every last one by this point, but they wouldn’t have been as powerful.” He answered, “I think we made the right decision. If our attack is successful, we can always raise more.”

“Then, let’s say that the strongest of our Gravewalkers will accompany the Briarknights, whereas the weakest will be supplemented with detachments of Horrors, Flesh Elementals, and Rot Behemoths.” Lieze decided, “We will split into three groups of 6 necromancers each, headed by a single leader. One group will be responsible for spearheading assaults against vulnerable positions in the district. Another will deny ground and fortify allied territory, and the third will create interference through the use of diversionary tactics and ambushes.”

“Is that wise?” Drayya spoke her favourite combination of words, “If one group is cornered by any royalists in the district, we’ll struggle to regroup in time to aid it.”

“There’s a simple solution to that.” Lieze replied, “Don’t get cornered.”

“Hm. Easier said than done…”

“No. It isn’t.” She said, “Remember - we still have the sewers at our disposal. Another layer to the battleground will serve to disorient the enemy, whether they anticipate it or not. If we use them to our advantage, it will be almost impossible to lose ground.”

“You say ‘lose ground’, but what does that entail, exactly?” She asked, “Unlike Alistair, we don’t have the freedom of reinforcing our army from other sources. If word gets out that the district is being attacked, we’ll soon have more on our plates that we can possibly handle.”

“Once the district is under our control, it will be difficult for Alistair to take it back.” Lieze explained, “Defending is simpler than attacking, after all. The fact that Alistair’s forces are split around the city gives us the time we need to perform a lightning-quick assault that grants us territory faster than the city can reclaim it. Not to mention, we’ll be able to create even more thralls from the civilians in the district once we’re done.”

“An optimistic plan. Very optimistic.” Drayya paused, “...Then, who’s going to be in charge of these groups? I can only assume you plan on commanding the thralls responsible for assaulting positions?”

“No.” Lieze replied, “That would be you.”

A sparkle of something dangerously close to excitement appeared in Drayya’s gaze. Her mood turned upside-down in an instant.

“Well…” She closed her eyes and smirked, “I suppose I am the most qualified among us to be corralling thralls, am I not? I can’t possibly blame you for arriving at such a natural conclusion.”

“Marché.” Lieze ignored the prideful girl, “You’ll be responsible for the second group - contesting any threats against our territory.”

“You’ll be planning the ambushes, then?” He replied, “I don’t mind that at all. It suits you.”

“You weren’t expecting this either?” She wondered.

“No. I assumed that our leader would naturally be commanding the most aggressive group.” He admitted, “-But I’m glad you aren’t. It’s dependable having you determine the best roles for each of us. Almost makes me feel like I’m part of a real army, and not a shambling horde of undead.”

“Then neither of you have any objections, I take it?”

“Of course not!” Drayya placed her hands on her hips, “You’re about to see what happens when a member of the prestigious Drayya family takes the helm!”

“I’m not fussed, either.” Marché agreed, “Defending is more my style, anyway.”

“In that case, we can’t afford to waste any more time.” Lieze resolved, “The two of you should organise your subordinates and thralls right away. We’ll begin moving as soon as the stars come out.”