The First Lich Lord

Chapter 74

I ordered the zombies to lead the way. They would only last for a little bit longer, so I figured I should use them up while I could. Behind them came the bludgeoner. After all, its goal was to absorb damage while I dealt out killing blows. Once again Raven disappeared into the shadows. The ease at which she vanished could be very spooky sometimes.

We moved in near-complete blackness. The first room we came to was empty, and bursting into the second chamber, it was also surprisingly empty. My small horde didnt slow, and charged into the room that had had the pens, there we found our foe.

My zombies were already engaged with the, I hesitate to call them humans or slaves, for they are truly something else. The modified humans that had earlier been domicile in their pits before had been commanded to fight.

The brutes tore apart my weaker zombies. The runners tried to circle around to get to Maxwell and myself, their large hands clawing at the air. Raven appeared from the shadows, driving daggers into the back of one before she vaulted off, ripping them free in a trail of blood.

My bludgeoners four hands curled into massive fists, storming into the midst of the brutes. With Raven holding back the runners trying to flank us and the bludgeoner fighting with the brutes, I had time to build a spell. Trusting Raven to deal with the weaker runners, I charged at the brutes.

Mercy was still in a long, curved form, and slashed against their unprotected bodies leaving deep festering wounds. I didnt channel magic into the weapon, there were only a few of the brutes, I saw no need. They were unskilled, and though their attacks were bludgeoning, they were too focused on my undead construct.

It took blow after blow, and the dark flesh of the bludgeoner seemed to absorb them with no problem as it dealt back its own devastating attacks. The meaty thud of fists slamming into flesh changed to roars of pain as Mercy left deep wounds. My attack had been precise, and my opening slash had all but severed completely through one of the thick necks of a brute. It didnt kill the creature, but the festering magic now inside of it so near to the spinal column would quickly finish it off.

I ripped Mercy free and spun it around, using the shaft to deflect an incoming attack even as I brought the blade down on another brute. A blow landed against my chest. Id been unable to avoid it despite seeing it coming with my precognition. The armor crunched as the metal indented, but did very little damage to me. I leapt back, channeling my death energy to repair the armor, and used that space to throw Mercy at the brute who hit me. I did not have time to reshape the blade, but it still bit into its stomach.

The creature recoiled in pain, an interesting effect I hadnt expected. From the descriptions, I assumed they were immune to pain. Reaching my hand toward Mercy, I yanked it free with the force of my will and dove back into the fight.

My initial zombies had all been torn apart, and by the time the fight was done, the construct was beginning to look worse for wear. One of its arms had been disabled and hung limply. But the brutes all lay dead, and when I looked over, Raven and Maxwell had neatly dealt with the runners that tried to close with them.

Raven had moved forward and was in the process of cutting down several of the other weaker types of modified humans. Near the back of the room however, I saw a group of people gathering. Men and women in dark robes had gathered up, some of them held axes, others hammers, and yet more with swords and shields. This was clearly a much more organized force than what we just fought.

Raven, sensing the fight had changed, fell back to where I was. Dead bodies littered the area. There were a few visible marks where dark bolts of magic had been used to blow holes through the chests of the modified humans with large eyes.

There was a brief standoff as our two sides eyed each other up. It was the perfect opportunity. I ordered the brute to interpose itself between me and anyone who tried to attack me as I began to build a spell. I used Mercy as a focus, reshaping the top of the blade into a metallic human skull, which in all honesty was completely unnecessary, but it added an effect in the same way me making my eyes burned brightly to cast their malignant purple glow across the room.

It didnt take long for our enemies to determine they could probably stop me, but they realized it too late. Waves of dark purple magic built around me and I slammed Mercys butt into the ground and it spread out like a mist rapidly consuming and focusing on every body of our fallen foes. Even the zombies I initially started with and had been slain were affected by the spell.

This spell used a large portion of my mana, and I pulled out a potion Jones had provided and drank it. As our foes rushed across the ground, I couldnt help but laugh. Dark laughter filled the room, they were rushing to their doom. Either they never fought a necromancer before, or they were just stupid.

In the time it took for my spell to take effect, both I and my bludgeoner were engaged. But it was worth the wait. It was a mass raise undead spell, and a more powerful version than Id used before. Further enhanced by my focus tables, I continued to laugh as I twirled Mercy, blocking blows and retaliating with slashes that left my opponents screaming. The first zombie stood up, it was a brute, the festering wound in his neck giving him a horrific visage, the magic having rotted away part of his face. The purple glow in his eyes and the strength in his muscles powered by his undeath allowed him to tackle and rip apart an unsuspecting man.

All across the room, the dead began to stir as they came to life and fell on my foes. The power of this particular spell was twofold, and the modified humans were a perfect target for it. The undead created by the spell were based off the strengths theyd had in life. The brutes were even stronger and the runners were even faster than theyd been before. This was further enhanced by the death energy I funneled into the spell. Though that did have its downsides.

The watchers, the modified humans with the big guys, were perfect examples of this. They became all but immobile and stared with unnerving gazes at my foes. There were some kind of lesser versions of the gazer, a type of undead with psionic attack, but they didnt have the power to be of use. But the power of the runners and the brutes made up for it.

I stepped back from the fight to take a moment to make plans. I looked at the gazers and the scouts, which were also more or less useless now. I already knew how to use them. After all, the true calling of a necromancer was to reduce, reuse, and recycle.