134 Immortals (1/2)
”All of you, scatter. Take cover.” said the lich. He put his hand into the air and waved it with a flourish. In an instant, all the mind-controlled humans and beastwomen moved away, huddling behind rocks or going to the corners of the cavern.
”You aren't going to use them?” said Li. ”As a Warlock, I'd assume you had them under your control to use as blood sacrifices or fodder to create more undead.”
The lich shrugged. ”They would produce only mindless drivel. My research is meant to ascend them to a level similar to mine. Then, at least, I might have a proper conversation with one of my fellow kind.”
Azhar stepped forwards, his bowstring nocked back and an arrowhead strung taught between his fingers. ”So yer tryin' to get more of yer kind here, huh? After all the misery your type has caused? Ain't gonna' happen on my watch.”
He loosed the arrow, a swirl of green energy fluttering behind the feathers of the arrow. Li recognized the particles as [Snipe].
The lich ignored Azhar as the arrow bounced off of his chest, not even tearing his clothes. He continued to talk to Li. ”I presume you are familiar with Warlocks. Quite interesting. You must be long lived, then, for we have not practiced our magic in centuries. Yet you still stand with this human here?”
”Not long lived, just knowledgeable,” said Li. He motioned around him, to the lab and to all the slaves. ”And I am here to put an end to this whole…operation.”
Azhar nocked another arrow, but did not fire, knowing it would be useless.
The lich nodded. ”And I thought I was guaranteed solace for my research. I suppose I cannot trust an immortal's promises either.”
Azhar cocked his head, and Li felt curious too. An immortal? Surely, the lich was working with Chevrette. Was Chevrette himself not human?
”An immortal?” asked Li. ”Do you mean Chevrette?”
The lich raised a brow and stroked his moustache. ”Chevrette? Hm.” He paused for a few seconds, wondering. ”Ah! The wealthy nobleman, correct? Him? Never. I would not stoop to working with fickle mortal minds.”
”That don't make no damn sense,” said Azhar. ”All this here is for Chevrette's slave ring.”
”Slavery? How inane.” The lich laughed. ”I have no use for slaves. No, like I said, this is for my research to produce more of my kind. I am presented with a selection of beastwomen whom are naturally magically virile, and among them, I select the finest whom I build up into fine vessels capable of undergoing ascension. Though-,”
The lich sighed as he looked around, eyeing the hiding slaves. ”I am yet to be successful.”
Li raised his hand to quiet Azhar as he noticed the bowman was ready to protest.
”Quite right. In this human form, I am but a mere cobbler in midtown. I do not have the means to arrange all of this, and I do not have the best relationship with the vampires capable of aiding me here, considering I have used a few of their kind for some of my experiments.”
The lich took a good look at Li. ”I can sense immense magical power flowing within you, but to what degree, I cannot truly tell, nor can I seem to gauge whether you are mortal or not, even with this monocle of truesight.
I intended to eliminate you two to silence word of my operation, but I understand now that will be fairly difficult. Conflict is always my last resort. I sense that you are not truly here for me, but the one who has given me this research opportunity.
So I present unto you an offer. I shall name this being and lead you to it, and in turn, you will allow me to continue my research. I can always find another willing to aid me for my services. Perhaps it is time I mend my bad blood with the vampires, though I suppose I do not truly have blood flowing through my bones.”
”Ain't gonna' happen.” Azhar looked to Li. ”You ain't seriously gonna' let this freak go, right? He's a threat to all of mankind like this, just like his kind was two hundred years ago.”
”A threat?” The lich let loose a scornful laugh. ”Who determined that? We High Undead of Kel'Thor Citadel lived in order, in harmony, in peace, seeking out and preserving knowledge. We were not plagued by the biases that renders your kind so unstable. No discrimination, no short-sighted infighting, no irrational hatred.
Why do you think so many mages of your kind came among our midst? Why do you think so many donned the black robes to become warlocks? Do you think it is because they were evil? Black at heart? No, it is because they were persecuted for their curiosity, for their affinity to a magic deemed accursed.”
”Bullshit.” Azhar shot another arrow in anger, and this time, the lich caught it in his hand. The arrow withered away, the wood rotting and falling apart into slivers of black dust. ”It's cause' of yer' kind that so many undead roamed the lands. How many families ya think got torn apart limb from limb cause' of yer skeletons and zombies?”
”Undeath, too, is part of the grand Cycle,” said the lich. ”When life becomes too overpowering, when you mortal cockroaches multiply too quickly, the curse of undeath becomes stronger, and so the mindless undead arise to cull your numbers. It is a natural phenomenon set by the World itself.