The First Lich Lord - Chapter 167

The priest struck first. I really hadn’t been planning on chasing him onto the bridge, even after Raven had told me. But when he ran, I decided I just couldn’t let him go.

My precognition had me moving as the bolt of searing white power tore through where I had been. He was powerful, at least as strong as I would’ve been if I were a regular NPC. Mercy’s scythe form was a decent enough shape while mounted, but it wasn’t ideal for duels.

I still attacked, driving forward with powerful swipes even as I tried to rapidly reform the blade. I had my ability to cast spells, but I didn’t want to. This man deserved to be torn apart. A blast of holy light sent Mercy out of my hands and over the side of the bridge.

The priest sneered at me, but I could still feel my connection. As it flew, it split. I closed distance with the priest, punching him with my gauntleted fist, releasing eldritch blasts at close range that tore apart his magical armor. He was a priest, not a cleric, his melee combat skills were severely lacking. Supported by a group he would’ve been a problem. Isolated as he was, he was weak.

I leapt back. “I’ll give you one option, surrender, become a living dead, and you will live to see tomorrow.” I smiled at the phrasing of that sentence.

“Never!” Silver light pulsed through the man’s body as he healed himself. He held his scepter high above his head in both hands as crackling white lightning built. It was a powerful spell, I had seen it firsthand.

I didn’t dodge though. I just stood there smiling as Mercy, now split into the two sickle form, flipped up around the bridge under my control. Each blade caught one of his arms, cleanly severing the bone. The priest screamed, blood fountaining from his arms. I kept Mercy moving and opened his stomach with two horizontal slashes, severing his priestly garb with ease.

I summoned Mercy back to my hands, catching one in each before bringing them together and recombining the weapon. A large raven looked at me. The flock had only been a handful of meters beyond the fight. It cawed as if in question.

“He’s all yours.” I walked back down the bridge, taking Shadow’s reigns in hand. The sound of flapping bit the air behind me and the man’s screams took on a new tone.

I returned to where Abimelech and Raven were waiting for me at the foot of the bridge. A company of bone guards and bone archers stood there as well. This force would hold the bridge with ease, the powerful lieutenants leading them were more than a match for anything the city had. If that proved not enough, the flesh golems weren’t far away.

Of the three bridges spanning the cavern, I charged this one with Abimelech, Raven, and most of the Dread Thirteen. Othniel and Maxwell had taken another one supported by far more troops than us. Freya had taken her forces to the third.

Jones, the underworld tavern keeper who had helped us out last time, helped us again. Evidently with the uproar Friar Brown was causing, the church was getting overbearing. My ravens had brought the message to Maltis that I was not bringing death with me. At least not death for everyone, so a lot of the underworld welcomed my presence. Jones had arranged for the gates to be jarred open.

My forces had slipped in under a heavy fog. The life drinkers quietly taking out most of the watch. The few that had gotten wise to what was going on were silenced by Raven or Ehud. Working with Freya, we’d cast powerful suppression spells on the barracks before crashing down on them and wiping out the guard force stationed in this part of Maltis.

For now, we had avoided the temple. We needed to secure our strong points before we attacked that. The bishop there was likely going to be a problem. Priests in the city were typically quite a bit more powerful, commanding huge amounts of respect and power. The priest on the bridge would’ve been widely respected outside of the city, but here, he was just another underling.

***

“I don’t know why you’re insisting on contacting this bishop, we should have just rushed in and killed them all before they had the chance to fortify themselves inside the temple,” Freya huffed. “Now digging them out will be difficult. I told you I can handle even the archbishop here, but with them fortified, I don’t know how.”

“Because, Freya,” I was exasperated that she was questioning my orders yet again. “I don’t necessarily want to kill everyone. Olattee is not…” I trailed off, not wanting to try and explain again. “What Raven and I saw, this bishop isn’t like the others. She seems to actually care.”

“Vito said something about you working with a friar for this religion.” The eye roll in Freya’s words was evident. “I will never understand.”

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“She agreed to meet,” Maxwell said, walking up to us. He had been the one sent in with the message, being both human and a bard, it was a no-brainer. If she did kill him, he would just come back at the altar he’d bound himself to before going.

“Okay, let’s talk to them.” I looked at Freya. “I would appreciate if you came since you will be the one working with her if this works out.”

***

“It’s all clear,” Raven said. “Bishop Dolores is in there with her right hand priest and captain of her guard. I did run into a sneaky man poking around, but he was just doing as I was doing making sure it was secure.”

“Thank you, Raven,” I said. “Promise to respect the bishops wishes and not sneak in?”

“As long as their sneaky man doesn’t sneak in,” Raven kind of promised.

“Let’s get this over with,” Freya grumbled.

I nodded and we walked forward. The building we were meeting in was situated on the edge of the DMZ zone we had set up around the temple. The idea was that it was as close to neutral as we could get. Either side could fall back relatively easily if they felt the need.

I entered the room, followed by Freya and Maxwell. Already sitting at the table was a severe-looking woman with a pinched nose and sharp eyes. Bishop Dolores. Though I could not see it in her now, the bishop was a fairly kind individual. Her harsh demeanor and approach often had many people doubting that, but Jones said that even if her help sometimes stung a bit, it was always welcome and fair.

Next to her sat a woman that might as well be her opposite. Her face was round, and she was heavyset. Her eyes were soft and her smile kind, the fact that she was smiling said something about her nature. On the other side of Dolores was a tall man with a square jaw and steely eyes.

I didn’t try to scan any of them, it would be obvious and rude. “Thank you for being willing to meet with me,” I said, sitting down across from Dolores. Maxwell sat across from the paladin and Freya reluctantly sat down across from the priestess.

“I will admit I was surprised,” Dolores said. She didn’t flinch away from the light burning in my eyes. “The message your ravens carried told you were not here for blood, but one has a hard time believing that when dealing with the undead.”

“We are not undead,” Freya corrected. “Lord Ezekiel is a Lich and living dead as am I. Most of our forces are undead as you say, but that’s not all we are.”

“I don’t see the difference,” the woman with kind eyes said. “All undead are un-pure, are they not? Do you deny that the eldritch magic running through your Lord Ezekiel is corrupt in and of its nature.”

I realize now that the kind expression she wore was a façade, this woman was devious. “Clovia, remember what the friar said,” Dolores corrected her subordinate.

“The friar?” I asked. “Do you mean Friar Brown? You know him?”

Dolores let out a sharp laugh. “Everyone knows the friar, though I do know him better than most. When he came through here months ago, he was quite shaken. Evidently, he found his answer, though I did wonder why he said nothing to me.”

This was not a turn I had expected the conversation to take, but I capitalized. “Do you know what he found? Did he tell you what was in the blood marsh?”

“Alas, he did not,” Dolores admitted.

I proceeded to tell her how Friar Brown had saved me from Theonis. Then what we had found out about Olattee, the history of the church, and what that place had been. Most importantly, why Theonis had been there and what the cult of Olattee had been doing.

Maxwell filled in at different places, adding flair and details that I had left out. By the end of it, all three of the holy people had grown pale. Though Dolores was already pale, it was a telling sight.

“Your church is now serving a mad god?” Freya asked dumbfounded. “If you want, I know it’s a big change, but Thiar is always looking for new recruits.”

The paladin scoffed. “As if we’d become living dead.”

“Just thought I’d offer.” Freya shook her head. “Mad gods are no joke.”

“I had worried something like this was bugging him,” Dolores said.

“You knew?” Clovia asked in surprise.

“No,” Dolores shook her head. “That is not what I said. It’s just that, I have known the friar for a long time. In fact, he was the one who convinced me to join the clergy. In all those years, I’ve never once seen him full of doubt. He’s always said that walking the path laid before us is the purest of goals. For him to be so shaken made me realize something had disrupted the faith in his path.”

“Not to nitpick,” Freya said. “But that’s a dangerous theology. What if one’s path leads you to do great cruel things, does that mean that’s what you’re supposed to do.”

“No, Freya,” I answered, drawing a look from Dolores. “It’s more nuanced than that. The path one walks is not necessarily determined only by them. It is determined by outside factors as well. If one walks a path of cruelty, someone else’s path will come along and either end their path there or pull them into something else.”

“You must be the man he talked about then,” Dolores said. “The friar said he made a friend with a lost soul seeking their path. I wondered if that was you when you sent the message, I could think of no other explanation. Friar Brown was very careful never to say you were human. While it was such a small thing, I did notice. And to correct you slightly, no one is ever called to walk the path of cruelty.”

I thought about the priest on the bridge. The merciful thing to do would’ve been just to kill him, yet that was not what I did. “What comes next? Will you change your path from walking in the light to walking in the dark?” I finally asked.

“I will have to think,” Dolores said. “I will not assist you in your war, but if what you say is true, I don’t know that I will assist Olattee either. It might be a time for all of us to find a new path.”

“I think that’s what the friar is trying to do right now,” Maxwell said. “I doubt he will continue to serve a mad god, and you shouldn’t either.”

I was about to agree with Maxwell when I felt something. A connection that no longer existed but still had a raw sense to. Hatred flooded into me, coming from an outside source. A moment later, I sensed a surge of corrupted magic flood out into the city.

“You best go take care of that now,” Dolores eyed me. “After all, it is your creation.”