Overlord Rising - Chapter 9 Defense And Conques

The fireplace slowly devoured the kindling and heated the cauldron. Steam slowly rose from the bubbling ooze. Mycelia added a few more ingredients to the concoction, and carefully stirred the iron pot to complete it. However, before she could finish, a tinking sound caught her ears.

Turning around, Mycelia found Uriel tapping on one of the many fragile jars, which held the remains of one of her embalmed specimens. Panic took hold of the Dark-Elf’s chest, as she watched Uriel ever so casually knock on the jar with her finger.

“My lady” she spoke while holding her breath. “Please do not touch anything here.”

“My apologies,” Uriel snorted.

Taking her attention away from the jar, Uriel travelled around the room and inspected the other contents in sight. Jars and bottles occupied the shelves, while a number of utensils and small instruments hung on the wall. Pieces of paper lay scattered on a table, each having been used and stained with blots of dripped ink.

Uriel took and examined one of the papers. A crude sketch was found on the paper, accompanied by a few small notes written in elven. Uriel had encountered the language before, but never took the time to actually study it. Despite this, she did recognize the date on the top corner.

“This is from over half a century ago,” Uriel remarked, as she glanced at the other papers. “Did you write all this?”

“Although I am a Sightless Sister, I still need to practice and study magic,” Mycelia replied, as she dipped what looked like a tongue into the cauldron.

Uriel scratched her chin. “Mycelia, I’ve been wondering for a while now,” she said. “Why are you called a Sightless Sister? You clearly aren’t blind.”

Mycelia gave a small laugh. “A Sightless Sister is a sorceress who chooses to find her destiny by following a vague vision,” she replied. “The vision is a mere glimpse of a person, place, or symbol. We are not given any other details of what we must do, or what happens when we finally meet the image from our vision. All we do know is that we must chase this vision through any possible means.”

“You follow a vision without any proper direction or guidance, as if you were blind,” Uriel said. “Thus, earning the title Sightless Sister.”

“That is correct,” Mycelia nodded.

“Does that name not bother you?” Uriel asked. “The moniker sounds like an insult, rather than a title to be proud of.”

Mycelia shook her head “The path of a Sightless Sister is one of hardship and difficulty,” she said. “Those who overcome such trials are immediately elevated to high positions, and earn a spot amongst our legends.”

“What did you see in your vision?” Uriel asked.

“I saw the citadel of Nul Hunur,” Mycelia replied.

A long silence passed. Uriel waited for Mycelia to continue speaking, but realized that this was her full answer.

“Is that all?” Uriel starkly asked. “From that simple glimpse of the citadel, you decided to wait for almost a century for the return of the Overlord? What if I had never become the Overlord? You would be wasting your years here!”

“But yet here you are,” Mycelia smiled. “My patience and faith has not betrayed me.”

Uriel sighed with frustration. “Your title is perfect.”

Mycelia didn’t reply. Instead, she scooped a bit of her concoction and poured it into a wooden cup. “Here it is, my lady,” she said. “This will grant you the ability to understand and use the lizards’ speech.”

Uriel took the cup and took a quick sniff. Her eyes widened, while her stomach churned. Every organ in her belly twisted and cringed, while the food she had eaten for the day turned sour. Even flies would have been repulsed by the scent. If it smelled this bad, then the taste couldn’t have been any better.

“It will be over quickly, my lady,” Mycelia said. “Please tolerate it.”

The smell lingered, and Uriel’s stomach continued to churn with disgust. With one deep swallow, Uriel held her breath and began to drink. The potion slowly trickled down her tongue, and poured into her throat. Tears dropped from her eyes, as her sense of taste and smell burned in anguish. She wanted to spit everything out and spare herself from the vile liquid. However, she refused.

Uriel quickly grabbed her stomach and tightly clenched herself. Her nails pressed into her skin. To distract her mind from the taste and smell, she purposely harmed herself.

Eventually, the cup was empty. Uriel slammed her fist on the table, and wiped the remaining ooze of her lip. She coughed and panted, as her stomach still ached. It felt as if she had just swallowed a bowl of mud. No, even mud would have tasted and smelled better than this.

“Feeling better?” Mycelia spoke like the lizards.

“Yes,” Uriel responded in the lizard’s language. She felt as if she had always been fluent in it.

“Potions often taste dreadful,” Mycelia switched back to the common tongue. “If there were a potion that tasted like honey, then I do not know of it.”

“Cheeky elf,” Uriel said, still recovering. “How are our guests, by the way?”

Mycelia held her head up for a moment, and traced the citadel with her magic. “They’re still in the rooms that you have provided for them,” she replied. “However, my lady, I still do not think it was wise to invite them into the citadel.”

“They travelled from their homes seeking our help,” Uriel said. “It would be rude of me to have them simply stay in the streets.”

“My lady, they’re primitive lizards,” Mycelia sighed. “They probably wouldn’t even understand the value of gold or silver, even if their own deities handed it to them personally.”

“Those lizards have faith in something?” Uriel asked with surprise.

“I have no idea, but the point is-,” Mycelia froze, as if she had just been pinched. “One of the lizards has left the room. He’s wandering off!”

“Where is he going?” Uriel asked.

“He’s checking each of the rooms,” Mycelia said, keeping track with her magic. “He’s stopping and entering one room it’s the armory! My lady-!”

“I will go meet with the lizard,” Uriel sighed, as she began to leave. “Just keep an eye on the remaining lizards.”

“But-!”

“Mycelia!” Uriel barked. The Dark-Elf went stiff when she heard her Overlord boom. “Your magic recognizes hostility, can it not? Tell me. Does that lizard have any ill intentions against us?”

Silence gripped Mycelia for a moment. “No,” she plainly answered.

“Then there is nothing to worry about,” Uriel said. “If you can put so much faith in a vague vision, then you ought to put just as much faith on details you understand.”

“Yes, my lady,” Mycelia bowed.

Uriel said no more. Exiting the room, she marched towards the armory. As she did, she met a few of the other golems that she had woken up. She greeted them, but none of them replied. They simply carried on their duty, patrolling the empty halls.

Eventually, Uriel arrived at the armory, and found Ragosh inspecting one of the spears. He held a very common weapon that didn’t have any distinguishable features. Several duplicates rested on a rack, gathering dust. Despite this, Ragosh held the spear with such care and gentleness, as if it were a glass ornament. His eyes gazed fiercely at the metal spearhead.

It may not have been a weapon mighty enough to pierce dragon scales, but it still surpassed the primitive stick that Ragosh had brought with him. From the way Ragosh admired the spear, it became clear that these lizards had not yet developed metalwork.

“Do you like what you see?” Uriel stepped in and spoke in Ragosh’s language.

Ragosh jumped, and turned his head to the door. “You can speak our tongue?!” was the first thing he said.

“Your dreaded Stone Witch helped me,” Uriel replied, as she approached. “Do you fancy this spear?”

Ragosh swallowed. He fell to his knees and held up the spear. “I have no intention to steal.”

“I would hope so,” Uriel grunted a cough. She took the spear back, and then pretended to inspect it. “You fought quite well earlier.”

“Not well enough to defeat you,” Ragosh growled.

“Apparently not,” Uriel agreed. “Tell me, why are you fighting another clan? What led to this squabble?”

“We do not wish to fight, but have no choice,” Ragosh explained. “The clans are at war with one another; fighting for dominance over the other. We have tried to avoid this conflict the best we could, but then the Allosaur Clan came. They demanded us to join their fight against a clan we had no quarrel with.”

Uriel frowned. She could already guess what happened.

“The Ovoo Clan refused,” Ragosh continued. “For our defiance, we were branded as their enemies. My clan is small and weak. We cannot truly stand up to them.”

“And so you came to us for aid,” Uriel said. Ragosh replied with a slow nod. “Is there no chance to peacefully talk with this Allosaur Clan?”

“We’ve sent messengers many times,” Ragosh said. His fingers trembled, as the faces of each messenger flashed before his eyes. “Their tails were the only parts that returned.”

A soft sigh left Uriel’s lips. “I am sorry to say, but even after we defend your clan, they will try to attack you once more,” she declared. “Not only that, others will hear of the victory. They may either attack, or ask for your support. You will be pulled further into this conflict.”

“Then when will it end?” Ragosh asked.

The cogs in Uriel’s head began to turn. Memories of similar experiences had come to mind. Uriel despised a number of nobles. This was no secret. However, as much as she hated admitting it, those same nobles did teach her a few lessons and tricks. She needed allies. An opportunity to make one had just presented itself to her. No, not just one ally.

“It will only end if one clan claims dominance over the others,” she replied. “What if your clan conquered theirs?”

Ragosh hopped at this idea. “The Ovoo defeat the Allosaur?” he chuckled with disbelief.

“Why not?” Uriel went on, as she spread her arms. “If your clan defeats them, it will send a message to the others that you are a force not to be taken lightly or pushed around.”

“That is impossible,” Ragosh shook his head. “The Allosaur are among the greater clans. We cannot hope to defeat them.”

“Then your only other option is to lay down and submit,” Uriel said. “Even if we save your clan from an attack, you newfound enemy will only come back to try again and again. How long do you think you can defend?”

“We do not want war!” Ragosh snarled, as he slammed the table. “We merely want to stay out of this conflict until-!”

Before he could finish speaking, he found himself staring at the tip of Uriel’s spear. A cold sweat dropped down the side of his face. The lizard swallowed nervously, and then held his breath. Although the spear had not touched him, Ragosh felt as if his skull had just been pierced.

“As primitive as your kind is, you have reached the point where some boundaries disappear,” Uriel said. “If you continue to isolate yourselves from the problems of your own kind, the Ovoo will only get weaker, and eventually be shunned by the other clans. Is this what you want?”

“We only want peace!” Ragosh yelled.

Upon hearing this, Uriel slapped Ragosh on the side of his face, with the spear’s pole. Although the blow did not knock the lizard out, it still left a bit of a sting.

“Then just bow your heads and offer your entire clan as penance!” Uriel yelled back. “For the Allosaur will not give you peace, until you kiss their feet in submission!”

The lizard did not take this strike lightly. Turning his sights back to Uriel, Ragosh took a deep breath and gave a fierce howl. His eyes blazed, while his nostrils flared. His claws twitched; hungering for something to tear to shreds. He huffed slowly. Controlled anger trembled in his chest. Despite his display, Uriel continued to look Ragosh straight in the eyes.

“So it looks like you can stand up for yourselves, good,” Uriel said. “The Allosaur Clan does not want to give you peace. The Ovoo will have to achieve it themselves.”

Ragosh began to settle. Perhaps it was that slap to the face, but Uriel did make a bit of sense. Exhaling through his nostrils, Ragosh looked to her. “Can you truly help us?”

“Only if you are willing to cooperate,” Uriel answered, as she offered the spear back. “Are you willing?”

Swallowing whatever frustration that was still pent up inside, he took the spear and answered. “I will convince the Ovoo to listen.”

Uriel nodded with approval.