The First Lich Lord

Chapter 118

Chapter 118

The explosion rumbled as another of the platforms was destroyed. Rubble rained down. On the stairs, the inquisitors in their white robes battled even as they pushed forward. Of the four platforms I created, there was only one left. Most of the volans had been slain as well.

The inquisitors had arrived in a long column that steadily marched into the dungeon. I had been on the floor with the basilisk. To my dismay, while they had put up a good fight and killed many of the invaders, the power of the magic they were wielding continually pushed my creations back. On average, I could tell the level of the inquisitors was lower than my creations, but there were so many of them.

Suddenly, there was movement on the harbor floor, and I looked out and saw Michael sprinting across the open area.

Why are you not with your people? I demanded as the micilium reached me.

They are safe, he promised. We know that if this place falls, we are likely all doomed, so those who are strong enough to fight chose to. Im the last, the rest spent their lives well.

So, theyre already on this floor then? I asked.

Yes, Michael agreed. Your monsters and traps have taken a large toll, but there has been too many, and the more powerful ones are acting like a spearhead.

It doesnt help that they have a disproportionately large number of clerics, Maxwell grumbled. They can practically out heal the damage being dealt that doesnt outright kill them.

Im glad I didnt put more poison traps, I agreed. From what wed seen, that hadnt worked very well. Any poisonous wounds left outside of a bite from the basilisk, or something left by Mercy, had been healed at an alarming rate.

Another explosion rumbled as the final platform was destroyed. The inquisitors on the stairs pointed down at me. It would be disadvantageous for me to allow them to rain down attacks.

The distance was quite large, so it would be within my power to raise shields to shelter us. I didnt know how long that would last. Maxwells orchestra began to play an ominous song. He now had fifteen different undead playing instruments. The power of his music was great, and on each floor we fought on, there was a small set of bleachers for him to set up. Due to the variation of the creatures and the type of fighting taking place, the songs hed been using were generalized power amplification, itd worked quite well.

In a completely unneeded gesture, I pointed Mercy at the inquisitors, and directed every single one of my mobile turrets to aim in that direction. The group of inquisitors were already building a spell, but when they saw twenty different eldritch cannons pointed at them, they stilled. I couldve fired, they knew it. The threat was implied: if they did not attack me from above, I would not shoot at them from below.

An argument broke out among them before a figure in dark robes walked out onto the stairs and broke it up. I didnt hear what they said, but he glanced down and I felt him meet my gaze. To my surprise, he nodded and gestured for the rest of the group to continue down. Either they thought it was to their advantage to attack me on equal ground, or whoever that was had some form of honor. It was probably the former.

It didnt take long before the first group of inquisitors charged out of the labyrinth and into the open field that was the harbor floor. Michael had been right, these were the stronger of the initial wave.

They homed in on me, and realized what theyd just run onto. While the harbor floor was open, it wasnt clear. Id formed stone spikes pointed away from the bunker in clusters and rows along the floor to hinder the advancement of any large group. Every single one of my cannons snapped their aim onto the group.

As it dawned on them, a volley of eldritch blasts and two meter long black arrows with tips glowing with eldritch magic all fired as one. The group hastened to throw up barriers using magical items, but there was little they could do against such an onslaught. Explosions of eldritch magic tore apart their barriers and their bodies even as arrows pinned them to walls.

I was a little surprised when one survived, having somehow dodged the attacks. Before I could do anything to stop him, he darted back inside the labyrinth. No doubt carrying word of what awaited. There was no stopping them organizing, but I had hoped to hold off that event.

A black streak shot out from the bunker and followed himRaven was on his heels. Maybe we would have some time before they figured out what was down here. The inquisitors still on the stairs would know, but it would take time for them to reach this floor and carry the news.

***

Men and women clad in white robes poured out of three different archways onto the wharf of the harbor floor. There had been several smaller groups, each fairly powerful, that had ventured out and been ambushed, but eventually word got back, and they had stopped.

As the power of my mobile eldritch cannons had increased, I hadnt increased the power of their attack, but the number of times they could fire. A steady stream of eldritch blasts, large black arrows, and other ranged attacks tore across the wharf, shredding the onrushing holy warriors.

Raven was by my side, adding her own magical attacks to the barrage, but something wasnt quite adding up. There had been a lot of inquisitors, a small armies worth outside the ziggurat. Judging by how many had fallen on the previous floors and the number still remaining, I could not figure out where the numbers were coming from.

Then I noticed something. One of the white clad figures was missing an arm and no blood poured out of the wound. A moment later a pair of eldritch blasts finished him off. As I looked closer, I saw more and more of the horde had severe wounds. I tried to focus on one, and barely got a hint of a description before they were blown apart.

Purified Possession

Level: 81

Created by inhabiting the fallen body of an individual with a purified spirit. These

Those wagons we saw, they were full of bodies, I said.

What? Raven said. They never uncovered them when I was out.

The majority of these white robed people are something similar to a zombie. I explained what I read.

Thats rich, and they dont like you for using the undead, Raven scoffed.

You have a point, but the problem is the numbers. When you stack bodies like they had, there is likely hundreds if not thousands of these things.

Oh That could be a problem.

Looking up, there was a steady stream of the white robed bodies trekking down the stairs.

Magic swirled around me as I built my first spell of the fight. I infused it with death energy as it poured out. A powerful area buff to my undead minions and constructs filled the area right before the front line reached my bunker.

Since I had my death knights defending a short rampart, Id equipped them with spears for stabbing and long black daggers for when it became close combat. I stood behind them on another raised section, with the majority of my mobile turrets and a pair of living dead necromancers Id just barely managed to create. I had done so with the fallen bodies of a pair of player clerics. The living dead hadnt fully gained their own self-awareness yet, but they still had access to necromantic magic. I tasked them with healing the death knights as much as they could.

Explosions of white magic filled the air above my bunker as a barrage of magical attacks hammered into it. The defensive runes powered with eldritch magic flared to life as they formed a dome protecting us. The mana reserves built into this fortification were largehopefully, it would last long enough.

The dome did not protect us from straight beam-like attacks, it only protected us from the heavier artillery attacks. This allowed my turrets to maintain a constant fire out over the field. I tasked the archers with targeting the mages and other range fighters they detected. While the mobile cannons had a powerful magical attack, they hadnt leveled up as I increased the power. That wasnt the case for the archer-based turrets. Their bolts had been greatly increased and were designed for punching through barriers, be it magical or physical alike.

Maxwells bleachers were stationed farther behind us, and his music washed out and was amplified over the bunker. I cast my favorite spell, then cocked my arm back and hurled Mercy out over the rampart, impaling a white robed figure. Exerting my newfound control, I split Mercy in half and reshaped each blade into a large circle that surrounded the shaft, then sent them spinning into the horde.

I couldnt penetrate far, due to the limited range of my control, but the two discs wreaked a terrible toll on those within my range. Limbs were severed, and deep wounds were left behind. The possessed bodies didnt seem to mind the damage, but that wasnt all that was done. The blade left behind deadly poison and magic far more potent than it had ever been. I didnt know how to easily work soul energy, but Mercy gave me some options. The reserves inside of the weapon amplified the effect of my magic.

The poison even affected the spirits as it drove them from the bodies and reanimated them as zombies. The section where my discs spun had devolved into a horrific cauldron of lacerated bodies and zombies tearing at their former allies.

Pulses of pure white magic flickered throughout the crowd, and a moment later those sections of white figures surged forward at greater speeds. I called Mercy back to me, reforming into a staff then into its cannon form. I did this all while my eyes remained locked on one of the sources of that pulsed with magic.

I rested Mercy on my shoulder, taking careful aim. I charged the staff, a bolt of eldritch power laced with death energy, and it hammered across the distance. The caster of the buffing spell had seen my attack coming, but his barriers were far too weak to stop it. I blew a hole straight through his chest.

Unfortunately, he hadnt been the only one. As the fight continued, more and more pulses of magic amplified the horde. Still, my rampart and death knights held fast. The section where I had attacked with Mercy was still chaotic.

I gave a mental order to my necromancers, and they joined me in casting a much larger spell. The casters on the other side detected our swelling magic, and though I had lost several of my mobile turrets, they did manage to still suppress the casters of Olattee.

It took us a minute to build the spell, and in that time my death knights finally began to be pushed back as they were engaged in a desperate knife fight as the players and other more competent fighters reached them. The horde served its purpose and soaked up damage so that the more valuable fighters could close, I understood the tactic well.

But the mistake people kept making with me was throwing hordes at a necromancer. A massive wave of death magic swept out from us. It passed over the rampart walls before it found an ample field of targets.

Nothing happened at first, then the front line devolved into chaos as the dozens upon dozens of fallen possessed bodies rose back to life as zombies under my control. Having expended the majority of my mana pool, I moved to join my death knights of the rampart.

I drove the tip of Mercy into the back of an unsuspecting player between their breastplate armor. The razor-sharp blade of Mercy severed the spinal column and left behind its deadly poison. The womans legs collapsed, and she cried out in pain and surprise as my death knight fell on her, driving its dagger down into a gap in her armor.

With the power of Mercy involved in her death, it wouldnt be long before she rose to serve me. I charged along the rampart, dispatching as many players and holy warriors as I could. The power of my armor was on full display as my cloak flapped behind me and I struck with incredible power.

An explosion staggered me to the side as I was hit by a magical missile. The eldritch barriers projected by my armor defeated it easily, but I noticed the reserves of my armor noted in a small heads up display projected by my helmet.

I whirled and threw Mercy at the cleric who shot me from outside the rampart. My blade shattered a pair of barriers before being stopped by a third. Before it even fell to the ground, I summoned Mercy back to my hand and continued my rush along the walls. The horde of zombies created by the combined spell was pushing back the horde of the possessed bodies.

It was a gruesome fight. Neither side could feel so they tore at each other with absolute viciousness. Seeing an opening, I gave a mental order to my death knights and they leapt from the wall, joining in the horde. I had my necromancers shift from healing to creating more undead. If we could get the momentum, then we could drive them back.

Things were seemingly beginning to swing in our direction, until a cadre of priests dressed in elaborate white, gold, black, and silver robes stepped onto the wharf. I felt the power as they began to build large ritual spells around them. I fell back to the upper part of the bunker where I held an advantage. I ordered every one of my turrets to target that group, and Raven was building her own spell to throw into the mix.

I had made a mistake. I thought wed already seen what they had. There was no easy way to get my knights back up on the rampart, though I gave the order nonetheless. The barrage of magical and ranged attacks slammed into a powerful barrier of silver energy. Cracks did appear in it, but nothing passed through.

The cadre consisted of eight priests, four of which were white robes with golden rituals sewn into them and the other four wore black robes with silver rituals sewn into them. The four priests in the white robes were powering the barrier, and the four in black were building another spell.

I pointed to the man and released my two stored spells in quick succession. Twin bolts of eldritch power hammered across the distance. I was pushing the capacity of the rings with the spells, they couldnt take much more. I did manage to bring down the barrier, but to my dismay, there was a smaller seemingly more powerful barrier behind that one.

The power of the eldritch barrier protecting the bunker was still mighty, and I hoped it would be enough when their spell completed. Above the priests in black robes, an orb of the purest black formed into the size of a bison. As I watched, it split in half, then those halves split in half. The process repeated over and over until I lost count of the number of smaller orbs.

As one, they shot out across the battlefield. The attack arched high, and I glanced behind me where the tunnel was leading to the next floor. However, the barrage was not targeted at my dome. It slammed into the ground all around the ramparts where my death knights were trying to regain the protected position.

The explosions of dark energy shredded zombies, possessed, and death knight alike. Sections of my rampart blew apart, sending chunks of rock scattering like a shotgun blast. When the attack faded, my entire front line was devastated. My mana reserves were rebuilding rapidly, and I was already building my own spell, but it would not be enough.

I expended all of my mana to cast another mass raise undead spell, then gave orders to my necromancers to continue to create as many undead as possible.

Lets go, guys, I said, heading for the tunnel.

Raven followed, knowing I was right.

Im going to stay, Maxwell said. I know Ill die, but my music is way more useful amplifying the power of what you have left here. The dungeon will re-create all of my musicians, so dont worry about it.

I grunted in thanks. He was right. The fighting that would come next would be very different. With a nod to Maxwell, Raven and I ducked into the tunnel and rushed down toward the next floor.