Birth of a Necromancer 029

Inside the city of Elcrada, chaos still reigned supreme. There was no order, no sensibility, and no-one to watch the misguided sheep the masses had become. Although it wouldn't seem like it at first glance, not everyone was panicking. If one were to look closely, they would notice that a lone man was sitting at a cafe where he was gracefully sipping tea from a porcelain cup, while ignoring the panicking masses around him.

The man wore robes of the purest white fabric. At his side, he kept a scepter made of gold and jewels of unfathomable value. One did not need to be very educated, to know that this man was extraordinarily wealthy. What they might not know was the fact that the man, who was sitting quietly at his table, was one of the most powerful men in the country.

Any religious person would know the bishop of the capital, and he was exactly the person present in Elcrada. He was quietly watching the chaos unfold before him, making no attempt to stop any of it. The bishop had been instructed not to interfere, and he did not intend to go against those instructions no matter how much they displeased him. That thought process wasn't the product of religious indoctrination, nor was it because he had given in to threats and the like. It was out of respect for the man he followed. The man whose teachings he followed, and whose ideals matched his own.

The bishop looked at the sky beyond the walls. It was dyed red, like the flatlands outside the walls had been with the blood of his brothers who had pointlessly thrown away their lives outside the walls; just beyond his reach.

Sounds of strained porcelain started coming from the bishop's cup, as the lone customer at the cafe’s grip tightened around his cup. He wasn't distressed, nor was he troubled; not the slightest. He couldn't afford to be, for that would mean disobeying the Archbishop, his idol.

Deciding that sitting back watching was neither exciting or appropriate given the situation, the middle-aged bishop rose from his chair. He gently picked up the cup, which had cracked slightly. The lone man quietly chanted a spell within the depths of his impressive, grey beard, and following the brief chant, the cracks in the cup filled themselves. Following that, he walked out the cafe.

As the man walked down the streets, against the masses of people, he could hear the sounds of metal against metal resound through the air, which was strangely cold for a summer night. He continued to walk until there were no more panicked citizens around him. The lone man found himself in the town square of Elcrada. Under normal circumstances, the stands and boutiques that populated the heart of the town would be full of merchants who would be haggling with their customers, but at the moment it was late, and the town was in a state of emergency. An emergency the middle-aged man could have prevented.

Screams were echoing through the cold air, but the bishop tried his hardest to pay it no heed, even though the death throes of fallen men chilled him to the bone. The bishop wasn't fond of war, and that was his reason for following the Archbishop. Because the two of them shared a vision of world peace.

World peace was an interesting idea, which had been proven an impossibility throughout history. Many times, the countries of the world had gone to war with each other for reasons that by history would be remembered as unecessary. The concept of world peace had been the vision of many a great leader, however it would seem that even people with such pure intentions could end up corrupted. Many kings had started wars for world peace without noticing the hypocritical nature of their ‘wars for peace’. But this was different.

With the Archbishop by his side, the bishop was confident that he could end the discord the world currently found itself in. The two of them had come up with an idea so grand it couldn't possibly go wrong.

'It appears to be about time.' The bishop thought to himself, as he heard the screams outside the walls die out.

The undead army appeared to have defeated the motley army of priests and adventurers. It was a shame, but there was nothing to be done about it. The Archbishop had ordered him not to help, so help he wouldn't. But now that they were as good as defeated, he had been allowed to take the field himself.

"Enhance agility." The middle-aged man muttered from the inside of his magnificent beard.

Following the activation of the spell, the caster felt himself get considerably more agile.

He then proceeded to jump on top of a nearby building. The bishop didn't have to worry about being spotted, since he was alone. From the house, he found a taller building, which he then swiftly scaled with his enhanced agility.

After some time had passed, the lone man found himself atop the walls of Elcrada from where he had an excellent view of the battlefield. A few men were still fighting for their lives here and there, but generally the Church's forces appeared to have lost decisively. Corpses and bones were scattered across the frozen ground that had been trampled during the slaughter. The flesh golem that had appeared was lying on the ground, surrounded by its enemies, who weren't in much better shape than the golem.

"What was the point, your excellence?" The bishop asked himself out loud, through clenched teeth.

Death was an inevitable outcome when it came to battle, but had the deaths of these young, promising, and faithful individuals really been necessary? What had been the Archbishop's goal here?

The bishop thought himself to be mad, now that he was having thoughts like that. His idol was the perfect example of what the human race could eventually become. A beacon of hope for the believers, and a guiding star for the wicked. There was no way a man like that could do wrong by anyone.

Thinking he might as well help the survivors, since that couldn't possibly hurt anyone, the middle-aged man landed on the ground, unscathed because of his enhanced agility. He made a mental note to make more use of that ability in the future.

"With the lord Icarus as my witness, I swear by the light to do no evil, and vanquish the wicked in the name of all that is right." The bishop chanted, unlocking the fifth tier of Light Magic.

An incredibly bright light engulfed the lone man, who at that moment looked as if he had been touched by the gods themselves. As if it was an everyday occurrence to him, the man who was hailed as bishop calmly held out his right hand, which had been covered in some sort of dense light that appeared solid to the naked eye.

"Mass purification!" He shouted.

The light around his hand split into a good hundred pieces from where they each found their way to one of the dead. As the shards of dense light touched the undead they had come into contact with; they turned the poor, misguided souls into piles of bones, devoid of any of the un-life they had emanated a few moments before.

All of the living, who remained on the battlefield, turned to their savior, who had single-handedly done away with almost a hundred skeletons. You could easily tell that they were all immensely exhausted from the battle that had deprived most of them of their lives, but nevertheless, the priests that remained immediately bowed down when they saw who had saved them. On the other hand, most of the remaining adventurers stubbornly refused to bow their heads to their savior.

'Discourteous barbarians.' The middle-aged man thought to himself.

Without minding the disgruntled gazes from the adventurers, the bishop showed a kind smile, as if his recent feat was but a trivial matter. He looked around at the bowing figures. There were only eight in total.

"Followers of Icarus, I praise thee! You have survived in the face of great danger. For that, you have my praise. But as excellent as that is, I must ask you something. Where is the order among you? Why did you disobey your commander, and what makes you think the battle is over? The enemy commander stands before you!" The bishop shouted, pointing towards the hill on which the hooded lich stood.

But that was when the preaching figure, who was scolding his followers, realized something. The lich was not alone, and it was by no means being ignored. Someone was furiously battling it out with the creature that was threatening Elcrada.

Bright flashes of light could be spotted coming from the hill, testifying to the fact that a priest, or high-priest, was fighting the unholy being atop the hill. The bishop had to admit that he was astounded by the courage of this individual, whoever it was. It appeared as if the remainder of the priests had been overwhelmed by the skeletons alone. But this man was fighting their commander alone.

"Followers of Icarus, do you see that on the hill? The man up there is a shining example of what you should all be striving to become. Courageous, faithful, and loyal to the lord Icarus and our honorable Archbishop, whose brilliance we're basking in. I shall help our brother, and you will all be standing back while we show you an exorcism to be remembered!"

Shortly after that sudden declaration, the bishop used a low-level Control Magic ability called ⌈ Blink ⌋, which was used to transport its user a few meters in a chosen direction. The middle-aged man was making consecutive use of that spell, and that resulted in him approaching his destination very quickly.

As the bishop was speedily making his way up the hill, the world became a blurred mess. He had to stop a short distance from his actual destination, since he was getting dizzy from the blurry scenery around him.

After a speedy recovery, he made up for the remaining distance between him and the dueling pair before him. But even though he was close, close enough to help, he decided to stand back for a bit, so he could take in what was happening. The two were fighting it out just outside the forest. One of them was almost stagnant, while the other one was making use of his superior mobility.

The bishop recognized the priest who was fighting the lich. After all, the bishop and the priest's mother had been colleagues for as long as he could remember. The boy was Will, a newly appointed priest of the Church. Furthermore, he was a priest with an extremely promising future in front of him. If anyone had the guts, and the skills to face a lich, it was Will Siantia.

However, because of his youth there were many openings in the Will's fighting style. First of all, he was solely attacking, which left him open to any and all attacks against him. Secondly, since he was using magical energy to strengthen every single hit he was landing, his energy reserves were rapidly running low.

The hooded figure he was fighting, however, was gracefully blocking every one of the young priest's attacks with its palm. It appeared to be extremely easy for it to maintain a solid defense, but for some reason it wasn't striking back at all. Given how Will was forgetting to take a step back to block potential incoming attacks, it should be easy to strike him down.

'Could it be that it sensed me, and is maintaining its own energy?' The middle-aged man thought to himself.

A faint smile spread across the face of the grey-haired bishop, who liked the idea of being in the presence of someone strong enough to sense his presence. It wasn't common to be able to sense people, based on the magical aura they emitted. Only people who were very well-trained in various fields of magic could hope to detect others, using that method. The fact that an individual, albeit an undead one, was on a level the bishop could respect made the silent observer smile.

Thinking that it was time to do away with the lich, the bishop filled his lungs with air and bellowed "Get back, Will!"

With but a second's delay, the young priest reacted to the middle-aged man's command, as if he had been waiting for it since the start of the battle. Most likely, that was the result of his never-ending training sessions with his mother, who had spent an obscene amount of time teaching the boy a thing or two about fighting with a team, during his days as a monk.

"More cattle... For the slaughterhouse." An icy voice said, without the slightest hint of irony.

It would appear as if the lich was very confident in its ability to do away with both Will and the bishop, despite the fact that it was outnumbered. If it wasn't slain by the two opponents it was currently facing, there was a very good chance of it being destroyed by the remainder of the defending forces below the hill.

The lich, which wore a dark cloak with the hood drawn over its face, turned to its opponents. Before that, it had simply been staring at the point where Will had been standing, as if it had a hard time comprehending that he had moved.

"Your aura is... A bit stronger, yet... It is still faint... Compared to the one the master… Used to have."

Without letting the otherwise menacing being's remark aggravate him, the bishop fired the fifth tier Light Magic spell, ⌈  Turn the Wicked ⌋ at the lich, who remained stagnant even when faced with a spell that would, in most cases, destroy undead beings completely. However, liches were not to be taken lightly, no matter how strong one might be.

Light shot out from the grey-haired man's hand, but it was extinguished by a single word from his opponent.

"Dispel..." The hooded creature said, almost exhaling the spell.

'How does it have mastery in so many types of magic?' The bishop wondered, slightly worried at his own situation.

He turned to Will, who appeared to be waiting for orders. Deciding that it was better than simply having him stand back, the middle-aged man decided to devise a plan with the young priest.

"Will, I need you to attack the lich in close-quarter combat, so I have enough time to chant a sixth tier spell, which without a doubt will destroy that monster."

The young priest nodded, encased his hand in Light Magic, and jumped the lich. He was extremely reliable when it came to fighting with a team, the bishop had to admit that. In fact, there were probably none of the people on the battlefield who were more capable of defeating this monster than the duo who were currently facing it.

A flash of light came from the middle-aged man's left, reminding him of his task. He apologized to Will in his mind, and started preparing the spell he had in mind. Unfortunately, preparing the spell and providing support for his partner was not possible, even for the powerful bishop of the Church.

There was only one thing the grey-haired man could do whilst chanting, and that was watch and pray for Will, who was risking his life for everyone.

'Was this what you meant by separating the men from the boys?' The bishop internally asked the man that he so idolized.

While the middle-aged man was chanting in a complete stagnant state, Will was repeatedly attacking the lich. However, the menacing creature wasn't taking even a single step back, even though it was being bashed with strength that could easily be compared to that of three grown men. In spite of such heavy attacks, the frail-looking lich was standing its ground without any visible difficulty. It was simply catching the young priest's fists and dispelling his magic attacks.

"Purify!" Will shouted, finally successful in hitting his opponent.

Steam erupted from the lich, similar to when one pours hot water on a cold surface, but aside from that the hooded creature appeared unfazed by the attack. But it appeared to have become of the fact that it couldn't take it as easy as it had been.

"Frostbolt..." It said, resulting in a drastic drop in temperature.

The young priest took cover, but appeared surprised by the fact that no shards of ice were flying in his direction. Instead, the bishop was given something to worry about, as the massive shard of magical ice was flying in his direction at high speed.

In that moment, it was as if time froze, as the two realized that they had made a fatal mistake in underestimating their opponent. Not only was it intelligent, but it also wielded incredibly powerful magic that truly matched its terrifying ruthlessness. But even though they were forced to acknowledge that, they were as ready sacrifice multiple limbs if it meant defeating their opponent.

To the bishop’s astonishment, next action Will took proved the young priest to be very well aware of his duties toward the Church.

Will concentrated the remainder of his magical energy into one last spell that would come to save his superior. Light could be seen gathering around the young man, as the more than sufficiently large amount of energy emerged from the depths of his body.

"Holy shield!" He shouted as a last act of bravery, before passing out on the ground.

The spell that had been used was a defensive type of spell that took energy from its user and transferred it to another person in the form of a shield of light. Given the amount of energy that had been used to cast the spell, there was no way a mere frostbolt could pierce its brilliant light.

"Thank you Will, I shall end this now." The middle-aged man mumbled to the downed priest.

He had ended his chant. Now the entirety of his body was radiating slightly, compared to before earlier where he had settled for only coated his hand. The light that had shrouded the bishop was a rectification of the fact that he had unlocked the most powerful level of magic he could handle. Because of the immense power required when using top-tier spells, the body's energy had to be evenly distributed across the entirety of its user's body, unlike less powerful spells where one could settle for only storing their energy in a single hand.

"Brilliant Blade of Light!" The bishop shouted with a voice full of vigor.

This time, he was absolutely confident that he would obliterate the lich. The confident, grey-haired man knew that his opponent wasn't strong enough to simply dispel a spell as powerful as the one that had just been flung in the lich’s direction. But even if the spell should be countered against all odds, the bishop had enough energy to use some equally powerful spells consecutively.

The bishop had all the cards, and the hooded creature had none.

That fact became extremely clear as the darkened morning sky was blown away by the ever-lasting, blinding, and brilliant light that emanated from the bishop's palm. As the whiteness engulfed the world, the man on the hill felt the energy, that had been coursing through his veins, leave his body. accompanying the massive amount of light were a sound similar to that of roaring waves against a rocky shore during a storm.

It was a beautiful, small-scale Ragnarök that had let the town of Elcrada into its chaotic, yet beautiful embrace.

Many minutes passed before the now slightly deafened bishop could once again see. His eyes had to adjust to the darkness that had now found its way into his vision, now that the ubiquitous light had left his field of vision. Once again, contrasts were visible, and the bishop noticed that only he and Will remained on the hill before the town of adventurers.

They were victorious.

Whereto the lich had gone, one could only guess. Maybe it had gone back to where it belonged - hell. It could have fled, never to return. To be frank, the bishop didn't care at that moment. Chances were that the being that had threatened Elcrada would never set foot near the town again.

But then again... Foresight never was a virtue of mankind.

Chapter end