Daughter of Death - A Necromantic LitRPG

Trapped between legions of thralls, courage quickly melted from the royalists’ expressions as they became nothing more than morsels to sate unending appetites. Lieze would have loved the opportunity to revel in the suffering of her enemies, but there was no time to do so. Once the final soldier had been killed, she and the rest of the cult rallied together with the horde and started on a slow retreat to the east.

“Abjuration?” Drayya tilted her head.

“Whatever gift Furainé has received from the gods is amplifying her talents.” Lieze explained, “Just as it did for Helmach. Or myself. Especially powerful abjurators are sought for their ability to seal the spells of other sorcerers. That’s why we can’t use any at the moment.”

“Surely it must have a limit. Maintaining that kind of hold over so many spellcasters at once is no small feat.” Drayya replied.

“Furainé wouldn’t have used it right away if that was the case.” Lieze explained, “For the sake of preparedness, we should proceed under the assumption that our spells won’t return until Furainé is dead. That will allow us to focus on strategies that don’t rely on them.”

“That worm… we’ll see how quickly her smile vanishes once she’s completely at our mercy.” Drayya furrowed her brow, “I’ll make her pay for disrespecting my father.”

Though Lieze and Drayya were getting along better than they ever did as teenagers in the Order, remnants of their feud continued to fuel the odd insult every now and again. But with that said, Lieze knew better than to ever prod at the subject of her father’s death. She tucked the hurt away, but it was clear that the circumstances of his failed crusade against the Sovereign Cities still weighed on her heart.

“She was bound to get in our way eventually.” Lieze remarked, “For now, we need an assessment of the manpower she commands.”

Lieze’s MP - 601 / 1,140

With nothing more complicated than a thought, Lieze accomplished the single feat that had always set her apart from her comrades in the Order - [Levitation]. The sensation of weightlessness was unfamiliar but manageable as she rose as high as the spell would allow, lending to her an invaluable overwatch of the battlefield.

From the far end of the street, scores of royalists and priests marched towards their position with Furainé as the speartip. From what Lieze could see, she didn’t appear to be concentrating on a spell, though that didn’t mean killing her wouldn’t stop the abjuration aura. Runic waves continued to spread out from her body, and as they passed under Lieze, she was caught in a moment of pure confusion.

“Wait… I’m levitating right now…” She realised, “Does that mean Furainé’s abjuration magic is only active for a limited amount of time? And my [Levitation] wasn’t dispelled when the pulse of magic passed beneath me… is that its weakness?”

She had a hypothesis - one easily proven as she held out a hand and summoned some blood from her Bag of Holding, which responded to her call with glee.

“Of course… such long-range and effective magic couldn’t possibly seal every spellcaster in its range…” She muttered, “There’s a moment between the pulses when our spellcasting abilities return… and they’ll stay that way for as long as we don’t allow it to touch us directly.”

As she lowered herself to street level, Drayya watched the blood returning to her Bag of Holding with intrigue.

“Found a solution, have you?” She asked.

“Those runes pulsing along the ground act as a ‘conduit’ for the spell’s effect.” Lieze explained, “Furainé needs to constantly ‘refresh’ the seal in order to prevent us from casting spells. We can’t jump over it, but with levitation, you and I can still put up a fight.”

“-And what sort of fight is that going to be, exactly?” Drayya wondered, “Even I can tell Furainé is leading too many soldiers for us to face head-on.”

“With Marché’s group, our manpower would even out…” Lieze muttered, “Where is that fool?”

“-Planning an ambush somewhere. Or, at least - he had better be.” She answered, “What’s the plan until then?”

Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of bolts landing and deflecting against stone. Amidst the groans of thralls being pierced by the volley, one such missile lodged itself into Lieze’s regenerated arm, causing a jet of inky tar to spurt from the wound.

Lieze’s HP - 204 / 245

“Urgh…” A dull pain stabbed her nerves, “This is neither the time nor the place to discuss our next move… let’s keep to our original plan for now.”

“You mean, splitting up?” Drayya frowned, “Is that wise?”

Lieze didn’t answer. Her gaze had been drawn towards the ichor running freely from her arm. Unlike blood, it was watery, practically flowing from her elbow onto the road. She noticed that, as it splashed against the cobblestones, thin tendrils extended from the point of origin like the connections of a circulatory system.

“Lieze!” Drayya shouted.

“Wha-” She blinked, regaining her composure, “...Uh, yes. We should split up for now. The district is large, and there are many tight spots we could use to choke Furainé’s forces. And keep an eye out for Marché, while you’re at it.”

“...Is your arm supposed to be doing that?” Drayya pointed towards the tar escaping from the wound created by the crossbow bolt.

“Mm. I’m not sure…” She replied, “But…”

“...But what?”

“No. It doesn’t matter right now.” Lieze shook her head, “It’s too dangerous here. Let’s get moving before those crossbowmen have a chance to put even more holes in us.”

Drayya wasn’t satisfied by that answer, but she had no choice but to comply. As the two groups regained cohesion, they went their separate ways, diving into the northern district’s alleyways to shake off Furainé. All the while, her abjuration magic continued to spread over the rooftops of nearby homes.

“We’ll be safe for as long as we stick to the shadows.” As Lieze’s thralls squeezed into the alleyway, she explained her thinking to the other cultists in her group, “I expect Furainé will choose to pursue our group, rather than Drayya’s. She wouldn’t be foolish enough to split her forces.”

“But… if she finds us…” One of the cultists muttered.

“It’s not a question of who finds who. The deciding factor of this battle will be the environment.” Lieze explained, “Crossbowmen, spearmen… Furainé has plenty of both, but they’re useless in tight spaces. If we can approach them from behind, it won’t matter how outnumbered we are.”

A deadly game of cat-and-mouse, with the ‘cat’ being whoever could outsmart the other. Lieze would have to predict Furainé’s movements carefully or risk being caught off-guard. Thanks to the lack of Rot Behemoths in her squad, she would be capable of outmanoeuvring the royalists if necessary.

“Wait…” She paused, “...If that’s the case, then Furainé won’t decide to pursue us. Drayya’s squad is slower, and therefore easier to corner. She doesn’t have the freedom of simply running away…”

In her mind, the perfect outcome would unfold like this: Furainé would flood the alleyways in an attempt to cut off Drayya’s escape routes, eventually wearing down her forces with long-range attacks and spearmen. Once her squad was defeated, Lieze and Marché would be hopelessly outnumbered and forced to retreat to the eastern district, where they would be easy pickings for the army at a later date.

“We can’t regroup with Drayya without risking a head-on confrontation with Furainé’s soldiers…” Lieze placed a hand to her chin, “I thought she would pursue us, but the more I think about it, the less likely that seems… was she planning this all along?”

Her decision to split up had been hasty. Too hasty. Drayya’s expectant ‘Is that wise?’ was a question Lieze had gotten too used to ignoring. If anything could salvage her mistake, it would need to happen soon.

The dull aching in her arm brought Lieze back to the subject of her injury. It was almost impossible to see the ichorous liquid in the darkness of the alleyway, but she was able to gather a few drops in the palm of her hand by cupping her elbow for a few seconds. She expected it to be as warm as blood, but even those few droplets felt cold as ice against her skin.

With some hesitation, she used her [Identify] feature on the substance.

Mercuria

Alchemical Substance [Grade - SSS]

Description - A legendary substance said to be produced by the Gods themselves. Used in combination with the schools of magic to greatly enhance its spells.

Technique Learned!

Type: [Spell] Name: [Mercurial Enhancement]

Description - Use 300ml of [Mercuria] to enhance the properties of a spell. The type of enhancement is dependent on the spell used and may improve its current capabilities or add new properties

“It’s not blood…” Lieze thought, “Mercuria? I could swear I’ve heard that term before…”

She shook her head. The name wasn’t of any interest to her. Not nearly as much as its purpose, in any case. While the substance continued to drip from her arm, she held her Bag of Holding underneath to gather a few samples of it.

“That’s far from 200ml…” She muttered, “But I’m interested in seeing the applications of this so-called ‘Mercuria’...”

Huddled in the darkness of that alleyway, Lieze’s subordinates watched her with confused expressions as she reached into her Bag of Holding to retrieve a rapier, before sinking it back into the pouch with a frustrated sigh.

“One of you must have a dagger.” She addressed the hooded cultist, “Hand one over.”

After a second of silence, one of them dove a hand into his robes and retrieved a rusted kitchen knife, edge near-serrated from years of continuous neglect.

“This is all I can offer, my lady…” He spoke nervously, as if afraid of upsetting her.

“No. This is precisely what I need.” Lieze replied, taking the knife from his grasp, “A sharp knife wouldn’t do me much good here. Something more brutish and serrated suits the task well.”

Saying that, she tossed her Bag of Holding towards the cultist, “Place this on the ground and keep it open.”

He did as she asked, kneeling down to yank at the pouch’s seams, exposing the abyss of its limitless capacity. Lieze positioned her injured arm so it was hovering over the bag, bringing up the rusted knife with another to rest on her bicep, just short of where her flesh mingled with the Blackbriar’s thorny bark.

Horrified gasps accompanied the snapping of tendrils as Lieze sawed into her own flesh. Her brain sparked with an instinctual command to cease her self-destructive actions immediately, but she gritted her teeth and endured the searing pain as globules of onyx un-blood flowed from the incision, dripping from her fingers clean into the Bag of Holding.

Lieze’s HP - 80 / 245

The other cultists remained paralyzed in a mixture of fear and morbid curiosity as Lieze meticulously separated the Blackbriar’s gift from her body, working the knife around to the side of its stringy flesh to break off the last few connecting tendrils, sending the entire limb tumbling into the confines of her pouch.

Lieze’s HP - 32 / 245

“Hah… hah…” Dropping the knife to the ground, Lieze almost forgot the next logical step of her plan in the haze of agony assaulting her mind. Distracting herself with an all-consuming session of communion with the Blackbriar, she called upon its divine power to aid her.

[Supreme Regeneration] Activated

Remaining Heavenly Favours - 1

Fresh tendrils of otherworldly vines grew from the stump, stifling the flow of Mercuria and slowly but surely reconstructing Lieze’s arm. As the seconds ticked by, she could feel her health improving as the pain subsided, leaving her feeling better than she did that morning.

“Phew…” She sighed, “At least now I have a method of collecting it… a very painful, very dangerous method…”