The First Lich Lord - C.153


Captain Core patrolled the street that led past the temple of Olattee when the fog arrived. He was immediately suspicious. This was the wrong time of year for fog this thick. He was no wizard, but he could tell unnatural fog when he saw it.

Sergeant Regulus, Captain Core snapped. Raise the alarm and send your men out for check-ins from all our patrols, somethings wrong.

Yes sir, Sergeant Regulus snapped a salute, then began giving orders to the accompanying soldiers.

He turned and headed back towards the temple for which they had just passed. Deacon Avoca, Captain Core said to the cleric accompanying him. The church of Olattee insisted upon their members being attached to the garrisons or military forces of Valdor be addressed by their rank in the church. Deacon was essentially equivalent to that of a sergeant and were able to command acolytes. Core found the practice annoying, but this was not the time for that. Wake the bishop, I have a bad feeling about this night.

The horn blew an alarm that was echoed throughout the city. Each horn had a slightly unique sound that could be used to indicate which patrols were checking in with the help of a magical device that could detect the differences.

Suddenly, the sound of something charging down the street had Captain Core turning. The lights from the brazier of the temple and the torches his company carried only lit a small area. The fog was almost impenetrable beyond it. Put out your torches! We need to see through this fog, Captain Core ordered.

His men reacted quickly, the torches extinguished. A flash of magic from Avoca drew his attention and he looked over to see her casting a spell. Her scepter tipped with the symbol of Olattee, a four pointed star inside a circle, flared and though the fog was not pushed back, they could see through it. Although, it was far too late.

Oh no, was all Core had time to say.

A figure galloped towards him on the back of a nightmare, purple eldritch flames left where every hoof landed at the trail behind the figure. In his hands a scythe looked over his head. On either side of him and behind the nightmare larger mounts propelled forward by massive rear legs. On the back of each were tall, powerful figures.

They were upon them before all but the captain could react. Even he could do little. The figure on the nightmare struck with the tip of the scythe, hitting the center of the captains breastplate. There was an explosion of eldritch power as it punched through the enchanted armor. The wickedly sharp blade nearly cut him in half as the terrifying reaper and his mount thundered past.


We got lucky eliminating the captain on our way to the temple. Each of the companies had been given orders and were being led by their captains freeing up some of the Dread Thirteen to accompany me.

The two biggest threats we faced were the bishop and the colonel commanding the fortress. Since the bishop was a larger threat in general, I had headed here. Abimelech was leading nine of the Dread Thirteen in a rush assault on the fortress. They were accompanied by the life thieves and elemental zombies. freewe(b)novel

The temple was already waking up, they had either sensed us or the horns brought them to alertness. Either way, as we thundered in cutting down the priests and clerics who were working the night shift, alarms rang through the temple. The acolytes stumbled out. The holy magic of the place pressed down on me, and my resistances from the Order not only allowed me to push it back but suppress it for the four Dread Thirteen with me.

Raven was already here, flitting through the shadows leaving horrendous wounds on unsuspecting clerics as they tried to build hurried spells. The average level of the members of this temple were low, ranging from mid fifties to low nineties. But that would change as the higher-ups begin to take notice.

With me were Ehud, DeBarak, Jepthen, and Abon. I specifically brought with me all the skirmisher types. This would not be a standup fight like at the fortress. I leapt off Shadow and threw Mercy at a priest who just rushed out of the hallway.

Mercy pinned the man to the wall, its tip having been reshaped into a straight blade. Summoning Mercy back to me, I built a power with my other hand. The holy magic of the temple normally wouldve made it difficult, but not only did I have resistances to holy magic, but my command was absolute.

Mercy landed in my hand, and I flooded the power into the staff as I leapt up onto an altar kicking aside the religious artifacts there. I slashed the razor-sharp tip of Mercy through the symbol of Olattee, destroying it even as I continued to build a mixture of eldritch and death inside the blade.

The Dread Thirteen spread out around me. My presence allowed them to work their magic with no hindrance. Raven was suddenly standing beside me. She drew her dagger and stabbed it into the middle of the altar. The bone tip did not puncture the stone, but the ritual stored within the dagger activated. The altar resisted, but the eldritch power within the dagger overcame it.

The ritual delivered, Raven took her dagger back and darted away. Eldritch fire burned at the center of a small circle before it began to spread out in a ritual pattern across the altar. This wasnt anything more than an etching ritual, a very powerful one, but it did not have any effect other than to layout a design.

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A wave of death magic flooded out from Abdon, annihilating a group of clerics. My power inside of Mercy rose past the threshold I was looking for. I poured in soul energy, still something I struggled to do. The moment the etching finished, I spun Mercy around and slammed its tip into the middle of the ritual, where Ravens dagger had plunged.

Mercy bit into the stone and the power stored within it pulsed into the ritual. There was a presence that took notice of me. A presence that chilled me to the bone. I felt its anger at what I was doing.

Fuck you, Olattee, you crazy bastard, I snarled.

Power lashed out from the altar and the statues and edifices for the god corroded and broke. A surge of divinity ran through the altar as the mad god attempted to protect his altar.

Now! I yelled. The Dread Thirteen with me disengaged and leapt towards the altar. They all grabbed Mercy and channeled their one point of divine energy each through the weapon. The power slammed into the altar, and the gods presence was driven out.

The disengagement of the thirteen allowed the acolytes to surge forward, but chaos erupted as the altars affect began to establish itself. Every fallen member of the temple rose as zombies. None were strong. Not only had the fallen not necessarily been strong in life, but the manner in which theyd been created did not allow for amplification of weak zombies.

I wasnt done though. As the battle devolved into chaos, a thousand points of death energy swept through Mercy and into the altar. At this point I did not know what I was doing, it was just a hunch. Damien had told me that death energy was not nature energy, which was different, but also wasnt magic. It was someplace in between to me, which sounds like how he described divine energy.

The death energy took hold of the altar. Then I poured in twenty points of tier 2 death energy. That only left me with nine, and I hoped it was worth it.

Finally done, I stepped off the altar and joined the fight. There was so much death energy contained within the altar I could sense it even once I left. The eldritch power of my ritual formed a cage that held it there. This would certainly be interesting.

A blast of pure white light erupted in a nova from the back of the room. It washed over the chaotic battle. The power stung me, and I saw the Dread Thirteen recoiling. The zombies caught in it were burned to ashesthe bishop had arrived. The nova faded before it reached the far end of the temple where our mounts were rampaging amongst the week temple attendants.

A stream of arrows from Jephthen hammered toward the bishop. Barriers of white energy intercepted the stream, the eldritch arrows breaking against them in explosions of power.

The other members of the temple were forming up around the bishop, an organizing and commanding voice bringing them together. I didnt need to order my allies. They knew how to fight. A man also dressed in ornate robes indicating he was at least an archdeacon, made towards the bishop. Then he stumbled and dropped to the ground as a pool of blood spread. Raven disappeared within the shadows, having severed his spine in his lower back.

Ehud dove through a shadow and was amongst the priests in an instant. His blades shot out, scoring dozens of wounds and leaving behind curses and hexes. His target was the bishop, but the powerful priest released another pulse of pure white light that sent Ehud stumbling and purged many of his curses.

Abdon and DeBarak held back, focusing more on containing the threat and supporting the surviving zombies. I got a brief scan of the bishop.

High Priest

Level: 132

The bishop was stronger than I expected. With my mana pool still recovering and death energy already depleted, I rushed forward. Mercy formed into a long blade staff with a curved edge, ideal for slashing into unarmored opponents with powerful blows. I activated all of the abilities of my armor increasing my speed, strength, and reaction time.

The mana reserves inside the armor would allow me to maintain the power for at least a bit. A smattering of holy blasts hammered towards me. I dodged some and blocked others with Mercy, my precognition making it easy. The few that got through exploded against the defensive barrier projected by my breastplate. And then I hit the front rank.

Mercy ripped through cloth armor and flesh with ease. Wide arcs of my attacks often hit three or more people. I kept my momentum going, the bishop my target. I used the jumping enhancement and very small amounts to make my lunges unstoppable. I finally had enough mana to activate a spell in Mercy. My favorite spell.

The festering wounds left behind by Mercy were hard to heal, now those who fell before me would rise to serve me just as quickly. A blistering barrage of holy missiles hammered towards me. I dodged, my precognition keeping me ahead of the attack, and the edge of the storm slammed into my barrier depleting it more. But I did not slow.

The vast majority of my foes were slower and weaker than I was, only the bishop and higher ranking individuals of this temple could match me in strength. Fortunately, only the bishop was here, I suspected that was Ravens handy work.

To my surprise, the bishop did not wield a scepter, instead he wielded a sword covered in runes that glowed with pure white light. My blow from Mercy was intercepted by the blade, the clashing magics sparking. He might have been stronger than I was with magic, but even without the enhancements of my armor I was faster. I turned aside his blade, spinning around him.

With one hand free, I slammed it towards his face, releasing a blast of eldritch power from the gauntlet that sent him reeling. His barriers barely stopped the attack. His eyes had gone wide in shock.

In one hand the priest held a holy symbol and white magic burned within it as he built a spell. I sensed the blast before it hit me. It broke my barrier and seared my flesh, but I had seen the attack coming so I was able to divert the kinetic energy and take advantage of the opening it gave.

Mercy slammed into the mans right shoulder. The barrier flared against it, but the power of my blade proved its worth as I cut deeply into his shoulder. Mercy hit the bone and I pushed even harder. The bishop screamed in pain and I flooded Mercy with eldritch power that pumped into the wound. It didnt amplify the spell but the destructive energy tore at both his ability to cast magic and his flesh.

A blow from a cleric behind me forced me to dodge aside. I left Mercy stuck, the effect of the power being poured into him through the spell and the blade worth it. The cleric who attacked me did not expect the rapid-fire eldritch blasts that came from my fists as I hammered his face into pulp. His protections only lasted a moment.

An orb of pure black magic landed on top of me, erupting in an explosion of black light. Abdon had struck. Hed taken the time to build a very powerful death spell. The power had little effect on me, the lightning only a minor hindrance. I turned toward the bishop to see him collapsed to his knees.

I was about to kill him what a thought came to me. I no idea if it would work, but it was worth trying. I yanked Mercy free and the bishop hardly reacted. He was focused on trying to keep himself alive.

With the bishop down, the rest of the clerics broke. Many of them even tried to surrender, we let them. Raven, I need your dagger, I yelled, not knowing where she was.

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