A Bored Lich - Chapter 347

“What did the goddess say that brought you out of that damned library of yours, Lich?” Zolgon asked as he felt the gash along his dragon leather armor.

Doevm leaned on his demonic spear to push himself off the ground and took a breath. “What do you mean? She hasn’t said anything to me. I’m the same as I always was, except for the flesh.” He glanced at the statue of Maximus Draken. ‘I’m hitting my body’s limit.’

Zolgon continued, seeing Doevm’s hesitation: “You bowed your head to the academy like a common servant and gave up your memories. I freed you. My assault broke your cage. Then what do you do? You proceeded to defend your slavers! You should be killing everyone! You are risking your neck for humans. Humans! We shouldn’t be fighting. Why are you pretending to be one of them?”

“The only thing I was “pretending” was that this world’s horrors did not matter to me,” Doevm said as he lowered himself into a stance. He pointed his spear at his enemy’s throat, just as Jameson had taught him. “I am tired of pretending.” His lips curled into a smile even as sweat dripped from his bruised, bloody limbs.

“You’re…getting a kick out of this?” Zolgon gasped, his expression darkening. Doevm went for another stab which the king caught. Blood dripped from the demon’s shaking hand but he chuckled. “You don’t know what death is like. This all must be a game to you, just like those damned gods.” A shroud of mana rose from his chest. “It wasn’t a game to Brannath.”

The night’s chill evaporated as an intense Hellfire flooded the Mess Hall. Doevm’s hair curled back as he danced through the flames. Elongated silhouettes of demons cheered before their ruler’s magic might. “You already know don’t you, Lich?” Zolgon’s voice boomed over the roaring flames. “Demons are immune to fire.” His blade cut through the flames and whistled towards Doevm’s neck.

Doevm rolled back and his sleeve ignited. By the time he tore the cloth off, the sword had vanished. ‘Not good.’

The scorching heat swallowed up the crisp air and coughed smog down his parched throat. Blackness ate away at his peripheral vision. His smile faded. He fell to his knees, too tired for anything else. “You…” he coughed. “are no fun.”

“Battles are not supposed to be fun,” Zolgon said as he emerged from the surrounding flames. He held a blade to Doevm’s throat. “Tell me, Maker’s champion, where are your god’s artifacts?”

“Maker’s champion?” Doevm coughed. “You must have the wrong person. I’m not her champion and I don’t know what “her artifacts” are.”

A vein bulged in Zolgon’s forehead. He pressed the blade just enough to break the skin. “I can end you with a flick of my wrist. Answer me. Maker gave you life to kill either my master or the Goddess. That power of yours was an added bonus – all champions get one. Spill everything you know, especially if it’s about my master.”

Doevm took a breath and analyzed the situation: ‘Zolgon seems aware of the game unlike his previous reincarnations. However, he doesn’t know everything.’

‘Zolgon knows there is a relation between myself and Maker but not its nature. Maker is not the reason for my being here nor the mastermind behind my actions. She only allowed me to return. She didn’t give me any powers. How did he discover Maker?’

‘The God of Evil must have told Zolgon because he is desperate to win, which means Maker told both her children about me. Ashtehar knew I was a Lich too, which is why he attacked me at the end of the year-long war. The Goddess must have told him.’

Blood dripped down the side of Doevm’s neck. Zolgon’s malice radiated from his blade. ‘The Demon King is a puppet to his god and he knows it. He’s infuriated by it the same way Maker infuriated me.’

The flames burned brighter around them, reflecting in Doevm’s wide eyes. “That’s why Maker interfered,” he muttered to himself. “Zolgon, why do you want the map? Is it to kill all-”

“I ask the questions,” Zolgon interrupted. The flames burned hotter as if reacting to his growing impatience.

“No, you misunderstand,” Doevm paused in a fit of coughing. ‘He’s too hotheaded.’ He sucked down a lungful of smog and blurted out: “You’re right. We don’t have to fight…Frey don’t!”

Frey’s poleax whistled into Zolgon’s stomach, punching through the dragon leather. The king wheezed a pain-filled grunt as he flew back. White, flaming aura pulled the hellfire in and ate it. Doevm drew breath once again. “What do you think you’re doing to my friend?” Frey hissed. He turned around and winked at Doevm. “Miss me?”

“You idiot,” Doevm murmured as he got back to his feet. “I was handling it.”

Frey rolled his eyes: “I don’t know what kind of plan you had but your way of handling things has missed its mark lately.”

Doevm opened his mouth to retort but hesitated: “I’m sorry.”

“I don’t care if it was part of your master plan! We were worried-” Frey did a double take. “You…apologized?”

“That I did.”

“That hurt,” a voice called out. Lightning flashed a silhouette of an approaching demon. Thunder echoed throughout the valley. “But you’re not the invincible hero I thought you were,” Zolgon said. He pointed to a burn mark on Frey’s leg and his lips curled back into a fanged grin. “You lack control.”

“You’re hurt too,” Frey said, gesturing to the mark he left on Zolgon’s stomach, which vanished with a gust of copper life essence. “Or not. Copper, huh?” Lightning descended with a fury, increasing in rhythm like a drum before an execution.

Pitch black aura rose up from Zolgon’s skin.

White, flaming aura wrapped around Frey’s body, and flickered.

Good and evil. Yin and yang. Black and white. Push and pull. Another flash of lightning left a scorch mark along the east balcony.

Frey loosened his grip, then tightening it. He crouched lower into his stance. Fogged breath shot out of his metal helm. Doevm mirrored his stance with practiced ease.

“Sire,” one of the shamans called out. “Give us three minutes and the enchantment will break. The map is nearly ours!”

Zolgon smiled and motioned towards himself. “Well? I’m waiting.”

Lightning flashed. Doevm and Frey charged. Zolgon alternated his gaze between the two, wondering who his first target would be. He cursed as their spearheads whistled towards him. Doevm’s stab skidded off black aura and Frey’s overhead swing crashed down into Zolgon’s greatsword. The bone chilling, grinding gridlock resonated the thunder’s roar. The giant’s muscles bulged as he pressed his full body weight forward, slowly pushing Zolgon’s blade to the side.

“Just like with Jameson,” Doevm bellowed. He pressed himself against the ground and swept at Zolgon’s leg. Black aura reflected the force, knocking Doevm off kilter. ‘Stupid soul abilities!’

“He’s not exactly like Jameson,” Frey huffed. He tried in vain to yank his polearm’s tip out of Zolgon’s tight crossguard. He clicked his tongue and batted the king with his poleax’s bottom once, twice, three times before the demon caught it. A quick, horned headbutt sent sparks showering off Frey’s metal helm and onto the unbalanced Doevm, who shielded his eyes. “Sorry,” Frey cried out. ‘Thank the Goddess for that Dwarf.’