Daughter of Death - A Necromantic LitRPG

That tiny fort, erected to serve as little more than a final bastion of hope against an overwhelming enemy, crumbled as if it had been designed to do so from the very beginning. Lieze found herself trapped within a collapsing puzzle of jagged iron. The screech of metal hounded at her eardrums. The world around her disintegrated piece-by-piece.

Lieze’s HP - 301 / 384

She landed on her back, sprawled below a shelf of wrought iron which threatened to crush her at any moment. Raising a hand, she summoned a globule of blood from her Bag of Holding, which formed a coagulant barrier around her just in time to deflect the ceiling as it came undone from the walls and crashed down.

Staff of Thraldom’s MP - 3,238 / 3,417

The metallic plates slid across the surface of the shield, giving her an opportunity to slip out. She could smell alcohol in the air from the bottles of spirits that had been broken during the collapse.

“I suppose I should be grateful. If that enchantment hit me directly, I wouldn’t be alive.” She thought, “Most of the walls are still standing, but it won’t be long until-”

“Get in there!” A gruff voice rose to drown out her thoughts, “I don’t trust for a second that she died in that fall! Scour every inch of what remains for any sign of that corpse-fucker’s face!”

“...Until Alberich sends his men in to kill me.” She finished, “I need to move!”

Before anything else, she used [Blood Manipulation] to check her supply of Mercuria. Based on the volume of the liquid syphoned from her Bag of Holding, Lieze estimated that she had a little more than 2.5 litres to work with. Ever since Lüngen had devised a cure for her regenerative corruption, she had been holding back on spending Mercuria needlessly until a more effective method of sourcing it came along.

She couldn’t summon a Flesh Golem - as much as she wanted to - unless she planned on burying herself and the rest of the Order alongside the remnants of Alberich’s army. [Supreme Regeneration] was the only Heavenly Favour she could rely on in a pinch.

-And that ‘pinch’ would be arriving sooner rather than later. In the time it took for Lieze to get her bearings, three soldiers had already descended upon her position in the barracks’ remains - sprinting through doorways, vaulting destroyed windows, and leaping from the ledges above to surround her.

“Oi! She’s over here!” One of them screamed. A fire was lit in his eyes when his gaze returned to Lieze, “You milk-suppin’ coward! My family’s dead thanks to you! A death as quick as this is too good for the likes of you!”

He launched forward, bringing his battleaxe down to cleave Lieze in two with one movement. But as the weapon descended, it bounced off a hastily-assembled barrier wreathing the girl in black liquid.

Staff of Thraldom’s MP - 3,212 / 3,417

Lieze breathed a sigh of relief.

A [Blood Barrier] enhanced with Mercuria granted her invulnerability for a limited time - 10 seconds for every 300ml spent. With 900ml, she had given herself half a minute of peace. With fearsome howls, the Dwarves continued their assault, but found their heavy weapons unable to pierce the barrier. It didn’t stop Lieze from flinching whenever it seemed like a crescent blade was about to split her skull in two only to be redirected at the last second.

-But those soldiers were only the first. Before she could think of escaping, another trio appeared from beyond the barrack’s obscuring cover to seal off her escape route through a free-standing doorway. As soon as her gaze turned towards another, it was plugged with similar results. And if all that wasn’t enough, she had another problem to contend with.

Mime vaulted himself over the cracked walls and landed with enough force to shake the ground beneath Lieze’s feet. Beyond, the clashing chorus of thralls and Dwarves filled the chamber with indecipherable howls. Lieze was reminded that she still had a chance as long as she could find a way to reunite with her army.

“What’s wrong!?” Mime pointed his mace in Lieze’s direction, “Kill her! We don’t have time to waste!”

“S-She’s put up a barrier of some kind, sir…” A Dwarf replied sheepishly, “None of our attacks are getting through.”

“Does this trickery ever end!?” He shouted, “All of you - return to the battlefield and support Alberich! We need every man on the front line to avoid being pushed back to the fortress! Leave this fool to me!”

Thunderous footsteps followed as Mime’s subordinates disappeared from view, leaving only himself and Lieze in those jagged ruins. A bead of sweat formed on her face as she counted down the seconds in her head - 19, 18, 17, 16…

“Hmph. A powerful barrier, to be sure.” Mime began, “But no sorcerer could hope to sustain something like that for long. It’s plain as day that you’ve been beaten, Lieze Sokalar.”

“Please, save yourself the embarrassment and keep your baseless confidence to a minimum.” She replied, “I’ve seen too many of your ilk celebrating their victories prematurely. It’s funny when it happens the first time, but I just find it pitiful now.”

8, 7, 6…

Was it worth creating a [Blood Spike], she wondered? For all she knew, Mime’s enchanted mace would destroy a necromantic projectile before she could even launch it. Her only hope was to retreat using [Levitation] and place some distance between them before the barrier wore off.

With that said, she couldn’t levitate above the remains of the barracks without exposing herself to the Dwarven arbalests. Her best bet, all things considered, was to bait Mime into an attack once the barrier was down and use more of her Mercuria to reactivate it, giving her time to slip past him and escape.

3, 2, 1…

“I can see your magic wavering.” Mime took a step forward, “In the name of my brother, and all the innocent dreamers you murdered on your pathetic crusade, I will gladly- hm!?”

He raised his shield just in time to deflect a dagger aimed at his throat. The blade was thrust with such ferocity that it forced Mime to take a few steps back. Stowing his shock, he retaliated, dragging his mace along the empty air where his attacker had been standing mere seconds ago.

He swivelled his head, “Star-Eater!”

Baccharum’s emaciated body was coloured with bruises and cuts. Fresh blood dripped from his palm, running down the handle of his dagger and staining the blade. He adjusted the layers of blindfolds obscuring his eyes to better avoid the light. “What a terrifying fellow that Alberich is.” He said, “A shame, too. If he had spent a few more seconds aiming, he might have killed us both in a single blow. But I suppose expecting foresight from a Dwarf is asking for too much.”

Lieze’s barrier fizzled out completely. She used the break in the action to manoeuvre behind Baccharum. Mime’s defensive stance did not falter as he spoke, “Do you think you can take me, Star-Eater? I was born with steel in hand. I faced down the Amber Dragon and lived to tell the tale. A pair of knives like those won’t land a scratch on my armour.”

“The only truth I learned during my time as a pitiable nightblade in Akzhem was that every target, no matter how deadly, always had a weakness to exploit.” Baccharum replied, “Certainly, killing you will take some time, but where’s the harm in that? Every second you waste with me is another inch the Dwarves lose to Lieze’s army.”

“No necromancer would ever stoop to meeting an enemy face-to-face.” Mime’s expression became grim beneath the grate of his helmet, “You’re no corpse-fucker, and you stand to gain nothing from allying yourself with the Order. So why do you bother?”

“Surely you must understand my ‘why’ by now.” Baccharum took a step to the right, and Mime to the left. The two men circled one-another while Lieze kept herself squarely behind the former, “The Order is incontestable with Lieze at its helm. No matter how fiercely we struggle, ‘death’ is the hunter of souls, and we are all made its quarry at one point or another. In that way, I suppose, Lieze has filled the boots of an individual once confined to storybooks - a true personification of death itself.”

“You lie.” Mime tightened his grip, “These are the dreams of a megalomaniac who seeks nothing else than the satisfaction of her own murderous desires. The Order serves no grander purpose than to sow chaos within the holds of mortal men.”

Lieze folded her arms, “You’re a Scion, and yet you don’t understand your own purpose? You and Alberich were chosen by the Gods, but can’t you see that this terrible power has blinded you to the truth?”

“The truth.” Mime repeated. The smirk on his face was one of mocking interest, like the condescending glare of a parent hearing out the fantasies of his child, “Do you mean to imply that your crusade of misery across the continent is all in the pursuit of a selfless goal? That, against all odds, the necromancer who kills and resurrects and experiments as freely as she pleases is actually the misunderstood hero of this tragedy?”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. I never claimed that.” Lieze shook her head, “I’m anything but a hero. But I understand more of this world and its nature than you could ever hope to comprehend, Mime. If you were privy to the same information, there is no doubt in my mind that your goals - even if only for an instant - would align with my own.”

Mime exhaled through his nostrils, “I’ve heard enough of this drivel. I have a battle to win.”

Baccharum crossed his daggers, catching an overhead blow from Mime’s mace between their blades. Lieze conjured another [Blood Barrier] enhanced with Mercuria, and for the first time in her life, directed the spell onto someone besides herself.

Staff of Thraldom’s MP - 3,182 / 3,417

As the mass of tainted liquid whirled around Baccharum, Mime’s mace was repulsed. The Elf, who stood tall enough to eclipse him, lashed out with deadly thrusts aimed between the thin grates of Mime’s encapsulating armour. His accuracy, honed from decades of training in the black forest, saw a dagger sinking into the Dwarf’s left eye, causing him to stumble backwards as blood gushed from the wound.

“Y-You reprobate! Ah…” Mime dropped his shield and rested the free hand on his visor, “Do you think a stray hit will put an end to me, Star-Eater!?”

“Baccharum!” Lieze shouted, “He’s the Scion of restoration! You need to kill him before he heals his wounds!”

“Restoration…?” The Elf muttered. In the fraction of a second that his confusion created, Mime’s hand was already glowing with a soft, emerald light. When he revealed his punctured eye, it appeared as if Baccharum had never struck him to begin with - the wound was healed perfectly.

“Chosen by the Gods… that’s right!” He declared, “When the Amber Dragon was defeated, Alberich and I were declared champions of the heavens! In my mind’s eye, I can glimpse the Spring of Immortality and call upon its strength to knit any injury, no matter how severe! With Alberich’s power over enchantment, the two of us have ascended beyond the realm of mortals and approached divinity!”

While he boasted, Lieze cast a glance towards his statistics.

Mime

Level 52 Restorator

HP - 2,122 / 2,122 MP - 2,410 / 3,910

BODY - 14 MIND - 18 SOUL - 20

“He’s not especially high-level… and his powers of restoration have an MP cost…” She thought, “Baccharum! Keep attacking! He can’t possibly fight forever!”

“Dear oh dear… I’m not a fan of anyone who treats my techniques with such disrespect.” The Elf sighed, “How long do you think you can keep this up, Mime?”

“For as long as it takes! That is the vow I swore to these mountains!” He declared, “When your army is pushed back, and your allies flee, Alberich will delight in tossing the two of you into the cleansing belly of the mountain!”