My head slumped down, the weight of my exhaustion sinking in the moment the sheer confusion of the past few moments faded. I had survived, barely, by impressing that monster of a creature somehow.
With that said…
I was on my last legs, my horde was in tatters, and I still had to deal with both groups still on the island.
Gibbering made me lift my head back up with some effort, finding my sole remaining Ghoul looking me straight in the face from a few feet away, its head tilted to the side like a dog. It was a far cry from the murderous balls of energy and spite that I had gotten used to in the past few minutes. It was… honestly disconcerting in a way.
I forced myself up with my staff, body shaking from the sheer effort of standing on two feet. I was surprised when my Ghoul scurried to my side not a moment later and wrapped its claws around me. It was... not helpful at all. While it kept me steady, I needed to be moving, not idling about.
At the sound of rattling metal and a heavy thud, I tore my eyes from the Ghoul holding me to the noise, spying one of my Skeletal Archers on the ground, walking towards the pile of corpses. While I was curious as to what it was doing, as I wasn't directing it to… do anything, much like the Ghoul, I could only assume it was doing something because of my partner.
Once it got closer, its head turned, apparently looking for something, before it zeroed in on whatever it was looking for and sped to… a priest's corpse. The archer knelt down next to the carved body and started rifling through it, picking through pockets and tossing personal belongings aside. Apparently it didn't find what it was looking for, since the archer stood back up and marched over to the next priestess's corpse, and repeated the process over again.
By the sixth corpse being 'looted', I was starting to feel slightly better with my body shaking less and my footing far steadier. My lone Ghoul let me go finally the moment I tried to walk again, surprising me for a moment at the lack of grip before I got a hold of myself, the staff bracing my step.
The rattling of the archer snapped my attention back to it, finding it nearly back to me with a strange-looking flask in its hands. It was pyramid-shaped at the bottom with a golden stopper and edges, blue liquid sloshing around with each step the Skeletal Archer took.
Stopping right in front of me, the skeleton held out the strange flask for me to take. I wasn't certain what it was, but, considering I was in a fantasy world the easiest assumption was it was a potion. The problem with that line of thinking was, well, potions were… expansive. This potion could be anything from an health potion that treats wounds, which would be weird since I was undead, to an acid that tore me apart atom by atom.
With that said, my archers were the apparently most intelligent of all my undead, even their 'brethren' warriors were nowhere near smart. The Skeletal Archers knew exactly where to aim to kill people the most efficiently with their weaponry, they were the most disciplined of my entire horde, and they had acted before I even gave them orders.
As far as I could understand, the archer in front of me was giving me something that it thought would help. I had no reason to doubt it, so I took the offered potion and unstoppered it after a moment of deliberation.
Without any further pauses, I brought the flask to my lips and tipped the blue liquid down my throat. It tasted… like complete and utter shit. I was fairly certain I didn't have working tastebuds to even taste it yet somehow I felt repulsed by the taste. There was so little of the liquid that I was finished with the flask by the time the taste registered thankfully, and while it did taste awful, I felt… 'better' after the taste was gone.
However, I felt like I could do magic again, so I tried to raise what was left of my horde.
My existence was tied to my ability to use magic… An unsettling thought, but I guess that's being an Undead.
Sigvaldr had done a number on my forces, and the Onslaught as well, and as I raised them from yet another death, I noticed that several took… much longer. The Geists were the best off, simply sliced in half, their bodies reattached themselves together and they got back to their feet, crouched and ready for the battle to continue.
The Skeletal Warriors were in a slightly worse state, most had been fortunate to simply be smashed aside by the monster, bones sent flying and armor dented and battered. Four of them were not so lucky, and I was left with crippled skeletons missing full sections of their body and entire limbs. I could repair broken and shattered bones with my necromancy, I couldn't repair what didn't exist anymore. Good to know, I suppose.
… My Ghouls had been shredded. I was lucky to get half of my prior numbers of them reanimated. If they were going to be my frontline troops for the foreseeable future I'd have to look into making them tougher. For now though I was stuck with them as they were, and I'd have to be more careful if I wanted to retain my troops in the near future. Losing troops and not being able to replenish them meant each troop needed to be used as optimally as possible.
There were some bits and pieces left of the Ghouls I couldn't reanimate, arms, ribs, legs and several lumps of flesh that were… hideous. My gaze lingered on an arm before I sighed and moved away… to find one of my crippled warriors standing next to it… missing an arm. An idea formed in my head, going slightly to Bonesaw's macabre creations before I focused and just went with it.
A corpse is not a human anymore, no matter how personable it is in unlife. Each part is replaceable, most of those parts are not necessary for it to continue functioning like it did when it was alive, an undead doesn't need organs to function, as skeletons attested to. Using the remains of the fully dead to repair crippled undead was only sensible with that logic.
It was like losing pieces of legos in a set, and then going to another set to get replacements.
A quick order and the skeleton planted its sword into the ground, bony hand wrapping around the disease-rotten arm and bringing it up to its shoulder. I waited for the other three to grab whatever it was that they needed before letting out a pulse of necromantic energy. I let a smile out at watching my Skeletal Warriors quickly getting used to the new additions, before I turned back to the corpse pile.
I needed new corpses for my partner to experiment on, and a new Ghoul to take up the task since the old one… I was pretty sure it didn't make it. The problem was… there were a lot of dead Onslaught to pick from, and I wasn't sure who to pick to 'accompany' me around. None of them were really exceptional from what I had seen of them, aside from the two that had faced the Sigvaldr.
Those two were worth my time in searching out… but at the same time I was on a timer. I had no idea when a second wave of Onslaught or Kvaldir would arrive, and if I didn't find them quick, I would just have to pick some random corpses. So I went looking for them, surrounded by my horde.
The search went far quicker than I expected, thanks to a single thing I had forgotten due to not wanting to die again. The Assassin's clothing was distinct. Finding a black-clothed corpse in a sea of red and white was far easier, and with that came another pleasant surprise. The Knight's corpse was directly next to her bisected body, given the blood trail he had dragged himself over on death's door.
I ignored the fact that the Knight's hand was laid atop the Assassin's.
A random Ghoul was chosen to be the carrier of the two corpses, I wasn't about to saddle the Ghoul that had lived through the slaughter with babysitting corpses. Surviving through that alone, even if by complete luck, should be rewarded, and what better reward than to be allowed to kill further for a Ghoul?
Two other corpses were selected without any thought, and piled onto the Ghoul corpse bearer, and with that I was ready to move on.
Just like with the battle, there were two distinct options available to me. I could face the Kvaldir, who I assumed would be at the Harbourfront... or go face the Onslaught in their Cathedral… And just like before, the Kvaldir were the more prominent threat of the two. I see a pattern forming here. Once again, I could simply wear out the Onslaught by killing them and dumping their corpses somewhere they couldn't find until they were all dead.
My horde moved in the likely direction of the Harbourfront. The Ghouls and Warriors massed and readied to face the giants to come, while Geists and Archers clambered upon the rooftops to provide support when needed. My hope was that Sigvaldr was one of a kind as one of that was far too many as it was.
The walk through the mist-shrouded streets was short, but utterly mind-numbing, which in a way I was grateful for. It let me prepare for the bloody battle ahead, and the foes that awaited me. The human ones. The ones that came after I finished dealing with the monsters. I saved Humanity from a god-like space alien, now I'm killing them, life seems to be ironic like that.
The mist was noticeably lighter than it had been prior to the battle, showing that killing the Kvaldir had an impact on the mists, which was both good and bad. Good, in that it let me see where the hell I was, where I was going, and seeing enemies. Bad… in that the Onslaught would know where I was, and throw everything they had left at me.
I found the Harbourfront quickly, a broken shipyard of burning wood and malicious laughter. Corpses of the Onslaught were strewn about the yard, impaled on posts and debris, and buried under rubble, crude cages and what appeared to be makeshift campsites littered the land in front of me.
Just from what I could see through the fog, the Kvaldir were massed here, taking stock of… 'loot', reveling in destruction and… flaying an Onslaught member. Terrorists and fanatics they may have been…My face twisted in disgust, no one deserved that.
The Flayer, as I dubbed him, was nowhere near as tall as Sigvaldr had been, maybe a foot or so taller than the rest, but nothing like the Champion had been. Regardless, based solely on his equipment - namely that he had armor and a big weapon on his back - he was probably the leader of the Kvaldir here. He was focused on his… 'project', and thus wasn't aware that I had even arrived with my horde, hell most of the Kvaldir weren't aware, drunk in their revelry.
That blissful unawareness was something I wasn't used to seeing, but it was an easy thing to take advantage of. All I needed was to kill the Flayer in one hit to make it successful.
Necromantic energy gathered and crackled, coalescing into a Deathbolt before I sent it rocketing at the Flayer. The potent bolt of condensed death hit the creature square in the back, a howl erupting from the creature before it exploded into sea debris across the flayed body, ending the 'life' of the Flayer in one move.
There was a moment of surprise among the Kvaldir, so into their revelry that they hadn't expected someone to assault them. My archers let loose, and that was when chaos reigned on the battlefield.
Arrows found the confused Kvaldir easy targets, ripping through throats with ease, dissolving five of the two dozen or so sea giants. I looked over the rest, ignoring the roars as they charged from their camps straight at my horde, there were four of the mistweavers in the back, and the rest were the standard warriors I'd gotten used to. My horde surged forward in response, cackling and gibbering as they went
Another volley of arrows sailed over my horde just before they crashed into the Kvaldir, targeting the mistweavers instead of the warriors. They weren't prepared for it, and with so little in the way of protection, they fell into piles of seaweed and flotsam, and the mist lessened until the clouded sky was visible again. The Kvaldir didn't care at all that their spellcasters had fallen, lost in rage and glee that they were.
It made them predictable, and I punished them for it.
It wasn't like the first battle, where I threw all of my undead into a meat grinder, only a few undead went to each Kvaldir keeping away from the lumbering strikes. A Kvaldir would swing at an undead, it would dodge the strike with a cackle and then its fellows would strike when the giant was occupied. Ghouls waited until the Kvaldir had swung or thrusted before they leapt, easily clambering onto the creatures and tearing them apart with rabid hunger.
My archers kept up the volleys, and soon enough the Warriors left alive whittled away. Skeletal Warriors dodged attacks easily despite their weight, reacting the moment the attack was launched and leaping out of the way. That wasn't to say I didn't lose some of my undead, two blown apart by a maul-wielder roaring in defiance, only to be decapitated by one of my warriors using a great axe.
The battle was a slaughter though, completely one-sided even before my magi lent their magic to the battle. In the end, my undead lost maybe five that easily were remade, and the whole of the Kvaldir forces were obliterated.
It was… Unsettling. Previously my forces had issues with just three, but now a reduced force manages to wipe out thirty? Was this some sort of cosmic joke? A surge of emotion and feelings hit me. Anticipation. Happiness. Hunger. Ah, it seems like my Partner has been working hard on data crunching. Confidence. Apparently, a lot of work. I wonder what the limit is for me now in this world? The Limit for… her? In a world of fantasy and magic, where biologly takes a back seat… Before this I fought against society killing threats with nothing but a plan and bugs. Now I have the ability to make my own army. I looked to my Skeletal Warriors that I had repaired with parts of other Lesser Undead, an army that I could upgrade and improve upon to adapt to changing circumstances.
The Joy I felt was shared between the two of us.
In the end, I was relieved that it was this easy, but at the same time I felt… disappointment. After Sigvaldr, I had expected the person in charge of him to be… better. Instead I got a weakling that died in one hit, and a band of warriors that were easy to defeat once my partner had figured out how to use the undead more proficiently. The Geists hadn't even been necessary in the battle, just sitting on the rooftops.
With a soft sigh, I turned and headed back the way I had come, my horde following without a beat missed. Hopefully, my Partner would get through that protection soon, it'd make the defeating the rest of the Onslaught forces much simpler. It must be complicated, or some form of magic we hadn't seen in action yet, to take Her this long.
The route back to the plaza was a much different experience now that I could actually see past the mist. I could see the fires burning in the distance, smoke rising from where undoubtedly the Kvaldir had looted and murdered. I could spot the broken buildings through alleyways and the signs of life that had taken place throughout the Harbor.
I witnessed the horrible displays the Kvaldir had done to some of the Onslaught, only just below the Flayer's own. In the end though, none of that mattered right now, it was just a distraction to pass the time until I got back to the plaza.
A few minutes later, I found myself back at the plaza, everything exactly as I left it. I paid no mind to the corpses I stepped over, paid no mind to the ruins of what was once an almost certainly beautiful piece of architecture before I had arrived, paid no mind to the plaza in general. My eyes were on the Cathedral.
From the shoreline, the Cathedral had been massive. Standing beneath it… describing it with 'massive' was like saying Alexandria was 'tough'. It towered over everything, and for a moment I just questioned why they would make it that big and how they had even made the thing. The Cathedral looked like it could hold thousands of people, more than this entire town could house as a population, easily. But this was never a town, now was it? Zealots and Terrorists don't make towns. This was a forward military base built by a bunch of fanaltical terrorists. The Cathedral took on a more sinister tone.
I hoped for my own sake that there weren't that many Onslaught in there… because if so I had been thrown into a suicide mission.
The path from the plaza to the Cathedral was long, wide and straight, and in the distance I could see a group of what I assumed were Onslaught marching down the street. My mind immediately went to work, as my horde clambered to get ready, ducking into alleys and hiding behind chimneys while a few of my Ghouls and Warriors milled about in the street to act as bait. With only a few seconds of preparation I was confident in being able to take out the patrol coming my way, as long as they sent small groups I could handle it.
There was shouting as they noticed me and my small portion of the horde, I couldn't make out what they were doing at the distance they were, beyond shifting around a lot, but them speeding up was another matter. It was a full blown, suicidal charge that took me aback for a moment, letting them gain some ground before I was ready. Arrows were nocked, weapons raised and claws dragged across the ground.
Without warning a crossbow bolt slammed into my chest, sending me back a step before I tried to find the offending crossbowman, only to receive another bolt into my right shoulder. My eyes narrowed before I conjured a Deathbolt and flung it straight at the lead Onslaught member, already annoyed with the entire battle. It came to my surprise when a bubble of some kind of light engulfed the man, something I hadn't seen in the entire time I had been here, and effectively barreled through the bolt like the Siberian. Dread built in my gut.
Moments later, I heard one of my Warriors explode next to me, prompting me to look at the corpse even as I raised it back up… finding blackened bones slowly reform into a proper skeleton again. Apparently whatever hit it burned it, good to know for the future I guess. I turned back to the charging group, and caught another bolt to the chest for it. I let my horde converge on the group about to charge straight into my small group.
Five arrows sang in unison, but unlike with nearly every other time beforehand, the Onslaught were actually prepared. The Priests in the group, four or five if I had to guess, raised their hands to the sky just before my Archers fired, translucent forcefields appearing around them and a few other Onslaught members. My hand gripped my staff harder as I saw the arrows hit the forcefields and bounce off, only a single one managed to get through sending a gurgling priest to the ground.
My horde charged forward as one, clambering through the alleys to surround the Onslaught and tear them apart. Chaos quickly ensued without delay, as pristine and rusted weapons slammed into one another, holy magic healed and exploded with equal fervor, and several of the soldiers had that bubble from earlier. With little thought I made another Deathbolt and tossed it straight into the mass of bodies, my undead instinctively moving out of the way and letting it slam into an Onslaught.
My magi aided as well as they could, throwing bolts of frost and shadow into the melee with abandon as the Archers loosed arrow after arrow into the mix. Several of the Geists leaped off and landed on top of Onslaught, further adding to the chaos. I couldn't even tell what was happening at this poi-
A loud screech, like that of an eagle, made me look up and see something majestic and terrifying swoop into the battlefield. Eagle head, wings and a Lion's body, covered in deep scarlet armor. In other words, a goddamn Gryphon with a person mounted on its back. And there wasn't just one, there was a good dozen or so in the air.
I just had to jinx myself.
The Skeletal Archers reacted instantly to their presence, switching from aiming at the ground to the air and loosing their next volley at the Gryphon-Riders. Two pained screeches echoed in the air as the arrows found their marks, sending rider and mount plummeting to the earth.
Of course, I was then treated to the rest of the Gryphon-Riders proceeding to dive-bomb the Geists and Archers, screeching and shouts sounding over the clash of metal and occasional explosion from the melee. My archers continued their actions that amazed me, deftly dodging out of the way without a problem, even sending another three of the Gryphons into the roof with a well placed arrow in the process. My Geists… did not do so well.
I didn't react at all to the corpse dropping straight in front of me, uncaringly tapping my staff against the ground twice and letting the broken corpses knit back together. What few undead remained on the rooftops quickly vacated the area as the Gryphons circled around, I had no doubt that my Skeletal Archers could take them out… but the chance of there being another wave was too high. Even as they were moving down, the archers continued to fire, it didn't matter at what target, just that they kept up their pressure.
Then, the trumpet sounded, and I knew I was completely fucked.
The stamping of hooves and clatter of armor came from the direction of the Cathedral, as horsemen unsheathed weapons and shouted what I assumed were war-cries as they thundered closer. My horde would be decimated by the impact of the charge, no matter what I could try to do to mitigate the damage, most of them would be destroyed.
Knowing this, I did the only thing that made sense. I pulled several of my undead back to me: my archers, some of the Ghouls and warriors, and finally my magi. I couldn't bring everything, because I had to blunt the charge somehow - even if it ended up being just a speedbump - not even to mention the still-living Onslaught in the melee.
Which left me with nothing else to do but to pray that my Partner would get through the protections quickly, or we'd both die - again.
The cavalry refused to even slow down as they neared the battle, smashing and trampling through my sacrificial troops, swinging their weapons through the few that survived the charge, before continuing to barrel straight towards me. I didn't let any of my undead still 'alive' move forward or make any action, it would matter anyway as the Onslaught - who had more than triple my forces - moved to surround me.
I kept my eyes on the lead rider, a man in ornate armor wielding a greatsword, as he rode up, watching in apprehension as he held a raised fist up and slowed his advance. The rest of his knights circled around me, leveling hammers and blades at my forces as their horses stamped the ground angrily.
Sending the horse forward at a trot, the Onslaught started spouting something in his language, given the venom and vitriol I could feel in his voice, it certainly wasn't nice. Unfortunately for him, I neither cared for what he said nor understood him. Grandiose gestures were given, spreading his arms wide, clenching his unoccupied fist and all sorts of other things that I quickly became bored of.
My execution was being turned into a spectacle. I didn't know what was worse, the fact that I was being turned into a showpiece again or that this idiot was likely letting slip tons of valuable information that I couldn't fucking understand!
Completion.
Flesh knit together. Bone settled back in place. Lifeless hands clenched.
The necrotic energy had been wafting off of me this entire time, something that none of them tried to stop - likely because I hadn't tried to attack them with it - it had slithered across the ground, sinking into everything dead around me this whole time…
I smiled, and couldn't help the chuckle that spilled out of my mouth. Whatever spiel the leader of the Onslaught was going through, he certainly didn't take long to immediately go after my action. It's rather easy to tell when someone gets pissed off with a 'lack of respect', even with a language barrier. He didn't get too far when two knives pierced through his throat, rending through the armor and leaving him to choke.
"By the Light, you talk too much. Heh, I've been wanting to do that for a long time."
Behind him, situated on his horse in a crouch, was the Assassin. In one seamless movement, both daggers decapitated the leader, while the Assassin kicked the body straight off the horse. The body landed with a crash of metal, shortly followed by the thud of the helmeted head bouncing towards me.
… I had zero idea what the fuck just happened, but I wasn't going to complain as the Knight pushed off the Ghoul holding it and clanged to his feet. The other three corpses followed suit, slumping or pushing themselves to their feet and looking straight at their former comrades. My low chuckle had turned into a full-blown confused laughter. For once, my luck wasn't complete and utter shit and actually came in at the right time to save my ass.
My laughter only stopped when another bolt slammed into my chest, sending me back a few steps. Annoyance quickly set in and I let my body react on its own, a 'hand' of necrotic energy similar to when I had first come back to 'life' lashed through the crowd of Onslaught directly into the one surviving crossbowman. Grasping her by the throat, the limb quickly retracted back to me, and once more I let my body act on its own, watching dispassionately as the staff was pulled back.
A thrust at the right moment led to the 'hand' impaling the struggling Onslaught on the weapon, before it continued further and slammed the dying woman into the ground.
Ripping my staff from the offending Onslaught, I turned back to the rest, and found them suddenly much less enthusiastic to face me.
Their zealotry, their foolhardiness, their egos… It all came crumbling down. They had based their 'invincibility' on the idea that they could resurrect their troops, and the enemy was denied the ability to convert them. Yet here I was, having raised their Heroes, turned them to my side, my will.
I readied my Undead and my Onslaught, I knew what was going to follow. These men and women wouldn't run, too much had been ingrained into them. No, I casually gazed upon the tightening of fistss and gritted teeth, they were going to fight.
Right.
Now.
Two taps of the staff, and everything exploded into action. With a roar that shook my eardrums the Knight charged straight into the largest concentration of Onslaught, followed by my Ghouls and one of the raised Onslaught. My archers nocked and fired at the remaining Gryphon-Riders, dwindling the air support quickly, while the warriors charged straight into the fray, cackling as they did.
The body at my feet twitched and slowly stood itself up in sync with several of the bodies around me, my Partner easily breaking apart the protections now that she had the key. An unholy screech pierced the air, drawing my attention to a Gryphon rising from the ground and ruffling its feathers, glowing eyes like ice alight with bloodlust as it zeroed in on its living brethren. Its rider quickly climbed into the saddle, and the two lifted off to sate themselves in the slaughter of their former allies.
It was enough to make rasping laughter leak from me, the looks on their faces as the tables turned.
Another two taps of my staff sent the newly raised into the fray, as well as reanimated my fallen from earlier. The Onslaught Cavalry lost their allies on foot quickly after that, the soldiers having their feet pulled out by Geists and Ghouls clambering back up. Not to say they hadn't put up a fight, they broke at least two Ghouls or Skeletal Warriors each before they were pulled down and drowned in bodies. But to a Necromancer, simply remaking the bodies was an easy task.
The cavalry put up much more of a fight, simply by virtue of being elevated onto a horse and having the ability to maneuver away from the horde, if only for a bit. Unfortunately for them, they were surrounded. Staying in a single place was a death sentence, as they learned from the Assassin, who jumped from horse to horse above the throng and impaling her daggers into their necks and heads, laughing like a madwoman as she did.
What little cavalry remained attempted to get through, moving towards me hacking, bashing and trampling whatever laid in their way. Knights were dragged and knocked from their saddles, where the Ghouls and Geists set upon them with hunger, and the three that managed to get through the horde quickly became the focus of my magi and archers.
Suffice to say, they and their mounts died quick deaths via arrows and flash-freezing.
Turning away from the massacre, because what else could it be described as, I walked back to the plaza proper to start raising the rest of the slain there. I could return when the last of the knights were taken care of, but there were a lot of bodies to raise, not even mentioning the ones I'd left behind before coming into the Harbor proper. I'd have to get those soon, lest I forget about them and lose more members of my horde.
I wasn't worried about the knights somehow getting out of there and coming after me in a moment of surprise. What few remained were doomed to die and be raised for my new army.
Once I was finished raising the last of the Onslaught in the plaza did I finally do something about the bolts in my chest. Leaning my staff against my shoulder, I firmly took hold of a bolt and pulled, wrenching it out and tossing it aside. Black ichor dripped from the wound as I took hold of the next, ripping it out with the same force as the first, before doing the action a third and a fourth time.
I didn't care enough about the wounds to close them up, especially when they didn't seem to impact me at all, so like with the earlier bolt wounds, they remained dripping liquid without end.
"Impossible…"
I turned to the side at the voice, my eyes narrowing at the sight of the Skeleton from earlier floating towards me, looking at the Onslaught corpses march past. I didn't know why he was down here, since he hadn't deigned to help me in the slightest against the Onslaught and hadn't contributed in the slightest to my success. If it was to 'keep an eye on me'... he certainly had done a terrible job, considering he lost me immediately.
With that said, he wasn't worth my time in the slightest, as I still had to raise the dead at the last battle, and send off my horde to go collect the corpses around the town. So without paying him any mind I-
"How did you get through the Bane?"
I turned back to the Skeleton, raising an eye at the question filled with outrage. "Bane?" Was that what the protection was called? 'Bane'? If it had something attached to it, I could understand the name… but just 'Bane'?
"You… You didn't even know! How could a lesser undead like yourself do what even a Lord of Liches cannot, when you didn't even know of the Bane?"
I gave an unconcerned shrug, watching as the 'Lich' radiated more and more outrage, helpfully indicated by the licks of frost pouring from him, at the conversation taking place. Amusement trickled into my voice, I simply couldn't help it, what with the asshole being indignant about me 'doing the impossible'. Killing a God was supposed to be impossible, but I managed it. "I kept trying. Simple."
His eyes flared with blue fire, seems to be another tell to watch for, "... Kept trying? You kept trying? Even Lord Kel'Thuzad has yet to break the Bane, and you a lesser undead man-"
"That is enough."
The second voice shut the Lich up, outrage replaced instantly with trepidation as he turned to the side, my eyes following the path he took. What I found was another Lich, bigger than the first by around half by my guess, surrounded by several links of floating chains and wearing far less ornate robes than the other was. In his skeletal hands was a simple staff sized for him, made of blackened metal and fitted with a skull as its only decoration.
That wasn't what caught my attention though.
"L-Lord Kel'Thuzad."
"Chillwinter. Do you doubt me?"
His voice was the same as the one I had been hearing since I had been raised.
An aura of calm radiated from Kel'Thuzad as he awaited an answer, so completely at ease. It made me question who was the Lich King, if my Liege's title was Lord of Liches. Were they the same person? Or was there one even stronger than my… Master? I shook my head.. Regardless, I kept my eyes on the Liches as they continued.
The Lich, Chillwinter, shrunk in on himself and stuttered out a reply, my amusement growing at watching the asshole get chewed out. "N-no. Of course not my lord!"
Kel'Thuzad nodded solemnly, "I see. If that is so, why did you not do as I asked?"
Disappointment laced his words, and even I had to feel some sympathy as the smaller Lich looked to the ground, rubbing his hands together as he tried to think of some response. Kel'Thuzad continued without waiting for an answer, barreling through the conversation as if Chillwinter was just a disobedient student.
"Did I not ask you simply, to support the individual I personally retrieved from the Twisting Nether?" Frost stealthily creeped out from underneath him, at first I thought it was a mistake… but as I had caught Chillwinter twitching his skull toward the growing frost - and becoming increasingly more nervous - I began to think it was an intentional theatric. "Why do I see no Undead of Talramas among the ruins? Why do I not see Talramas itself in the sky above?"
"I… I did not want to risk losing the Necropolis that both you and the King gave so generously to me. I did not want waste undead facing the Onslaught when the Living arrive soon, my Lord."
… Despite being an asshole, and almost certainly not giving me troops due to me pissing him off, I will give Chillwinter credit. He raised valid points as to not contribute to the battle. I had no idea what a Necropolis was, but if the 'King' rarely gave them out, they had to be important, very rare, or both. And given the Onslaught's success until I broke 'the Bane', I could understand not wanting to lose potential troops.
He was still a fucking asshole and deserved whatever punishment came. But his reasons were understandable.
But it was the wrong thing to say, as Kel'thuzad casual manor evaporated like the water depositioning around the ever growing frosty circle. "You… Thought? You Want? I was not aware you were more knowledgeable than I. I was not aware that my orders were just suggestions." If I had to describe the sound and visuals to someone in the future that Chillwind made… It would be a mix between a choking gurgle and a gasp, as his entire body ceased all movement like a deer in headlights. To be honest, it was somewhat impressive being that he didn't have lungs.
"You will return to Talramas Lich Chillwinter, and you will take it to En'kilah to prepare for the Living incursion. A more suitable lord will be named there, under the San'layn's authority."
I wasn't sure how, but Kel'thuzad loomed over floating Lich without even having moved. "Am I understood?"
"Y-yes my lord."
"Good. I do not wish to see Talramas in the skies of Icecrown by the morning. Leave us."
Pure white energy gathered around Chillwinter's hands as the Lich hurried to obey and left in a flash of light, seemingly teleporting away in pure, unadulterated terror of further angering Kel'Thuzad. Once the smaller Lich was gone, Kel'Thuzad seemed to calm down, one of his hands coming to his face as he sighed.
"Even here, I am surrounded by Imbeciles."
Removing his hand, Kel'Thuzad slowly turned his head to me, the aura of frost dissipating fully as he spoke three simple words.
"Come with me."
It was an order I complied with immediately as Kel'Thuzad started to float towards the Cathedral, moving to his side quickly before dropping my pace as the Lich seemed content to slowly go forward. After the display just now, on top of the other Lich's abject terror, I'd have to be Emma levels of stupid to go against his wishes.
My undead made way for him as they 'tidied up' the street, dumping the bodies to the side of the street and leaving them there for me to take care of.
"It is a pleasure to meet you in person Little One. You have done quite well, even without that incompetent fool's forces."
"I made due with what I had, my Lord." I subtly tapped my stave against the ground twice, keeping the pattern with my walking, sending my magic into the corpses we passed and raising them. As they clambered to their feet, I redirected the majority of them to go collect the bodies I had dumped at the beginning and the rest off to start repairs.
Kel'Thuzad made a rasping noise, "Indeed you did. Truly you have surpassed my highest aspirations for you. Breaking Onslaught's Bane not even two hours after your rebirth. Taking Onslaught Harbor in a single day, with a fraction of the Onslaught's forces and losing so few. Defeating the Kvaldir incursion without issue."
With a deep laugh Kel'thuzad paused to turn to look down at me, I could practically feel his eyes dissecting me. As if merely gazing at me would reveal all my secrets and tics… I- Could it?
"Truly, I was not wrong in my choice, wouldn't you say?" The amusement in his gaze unsettled me. It also unsettled me that I could somehow figure out when a skeleton with fire eyes was amused.
I tried to answer with a humble response, since my Liege clearly had low tolerance for braggarts, as he had told me earlier, it was best for me for him to remain pleased. "If you say so, my Lord. My tactics were basic, my troops weak, and my plans improvised. Surely, others could have done what I did. With constant access to the bodies, I'm sure you could circumvent the Bane yourself with ease."
He said nothing, merely turning his head to look down the path as he started forward once more. The Onslaught around us were showing significant initiative, commandeering the idling Lesser Undead to haul ruined stone and timber. It would be some time before the entire base was repaired but in the end it would be.
Kel'thuzad chuckled, "So modest. A welcome rarity among us Liches. Though I suppose it is mostly the younger ones who get into contests of stupidity to prove their 'superiority' over one another. It's just like Dalaran's Apprentices… only with grown adults." If anything his eyes seemed to dull as he finished his statement, as if realizing something. "With time to spare on their hands..."
Dalaran? I thought, the way he said it makes it sound like some form of school… Magic schools? I shivered as I felt a powerful surge of emotion echo through me. Avarice. Magical schools meant effortless knowledge, answers to questions that I have, and answers to questions I didn't even know I should have. I want it. I was fortunate that whatever revelation Kel'thuzad had kept him preoccupied for the moment, as it gave me the time to pull myself back together.
"I had at one time dedicated two months, on and off,on the Onslaught's Bane, and I did not make a modicum of progress. You managed to break it apart within a half-hour, knowing far less than I, and with less tools on hand."
The dismissive wave as he spoke about my apparent achievement... One that he self admittedly didn't put much effort into, but still made no progress on, made me worry. This conversation started looking more and more like another test. A test I was determined to pass.
I tried to put myself in his shoes; An unknown, down-on-their-luck mercenary that you picked up on a whim goes and takes out a military base that had been irritating you. While simultaneously cracking a cypher you had been working on, all without even knowing they were supposed to be able to do that. Only to discover afterwards that the mercenary never actually got the military support you assigned her in the first place.
Suddenly, that downed merc you picked up for cheap goes from 'odd' to 'absolute unknown'. Losing face was inevitable, heavily punishing a lower-ranked commander was the stick. It wasn't a set up, as before today I didn't even think it was possible for a skeleton to look scared, something I likely shared with most others. Throw in bits and pieces, portray yourself as someone who can offer much. Then reveal the carrot, dismiss your efforts and offer power... Secure the loyalty of the mercenary, earn their trust, gain their secrets.
I nodded, both inwardly to my conclusion and outwardly to Kel'Thuzad. Double-skipping my staff I redirected my Undead to start piling the rubble into the plaza, some of it likely could be recycled.
"And while there are those few that could have broken the Harbor easier. That number is limited to Arthas, myself, several of my personal household, and Anub'arak. And we have been quite busy preparing for the Living."
Accept my humble answer, and 'admit' that there are , in fact, people better than me, but then caveat that with subtle praise comparing me to - assumedly - top Generals. It was obvious horseshit, he knew it, I knew it, and we both knew the other knew it. But it wasn't something I could call out, not just because of his rank and authority over me, but also because I'm supposed to be humble and accept the praise with a deflection or denial. "You make it sound like I'm a genius or something."
"Genius?" He grinned, and laughed aloud as if some inside joke just played out. I was once again painfully stuck in a position of not knowing anything, the culture and customs. The intricacies of public relations, faction standings… I don't even know what the world looked like! For all the magic being casually thrown about, it could even be flat! He interrupted my internal panic and growing gnawing need for information."No. Talented? Specialized ? Most Certainly."
I had to ask, I didn't have the information I needed to fish for it and piece it together in the background. It was clear I couldn't ignore such attention either. "... What is it that you want, Lord Kel'Thuzad?"
"I want a great many things, as all do. What I want from you however, is another matter. You are an experiment, a gamble if you will. I find myself appreciating the results of such a bold risk, so far."
I suppose I should have expected no less of a non-answer to my question. I didn't even know him beyond this single conversation alone, and he's already coming off as someone who plays it close to the chest, with everything. "That doesn't answer my question. What do you want from me?"
"Bold." Kel'Thuzad gave a dark laugh, instantly setting me on edge even as he kept floating forward. Even with the laughter, the Lich Lord exuded nothing but amusement at my words, so I slowly calmed myself down, though kept myself wary. "Far too bold. Most would immediately accept my answer, and cower at the thought of pushing farther. Does victory go to your head so quickly? A lesson, Little One, seems to be in Order. When you go for an approach stick to it, if you wish to perform the humble underling role then your pride must be smothered in it's sleep."
I grit my teeth and swallowed the mental lump in my throat. "...Noted. Thank you, Master." I may have outplayed myself with my humble act initially, it was obvious he was going to hold me to that now. This… God, it felt like becoming a Ward all over again. A Sword of Damocles over my head, being required to act in a certain way… Why does it seem like life is becoming cyclicical?
"Now, we have idled long enough. Have you finished raising the rest of the Onslaught?" I startled at that interruption to the silence, less on the interruption and more on what was said, and what it means. Kel'thuzad skull turned to me, radiating a smugness that I had long learned to pick up on from proximity to- it didn't matter now. "Hahaha! Do not act so surprised, I have been practicing magic longer than you have been alive twice over." He waved his bony arm dismissively. "Service begets rewards, you seized this base by force of arms, and so you shall be tasked with protecting it. Let none encroach, drown them in their hubris." His burning sockets focused on me. "Lest you drown in yours."
I was left speechless, sure I was planning on seizing the place as a base of operations for myself. If only because I had thought I would just be thrown into the fire, as per usual, and be watched from a distance. Assignments came with expectations, plans, and a far, far, closer observation. I couldn't experiment being watched so closely, I couldn't show weakness to either my superiors or to my apparent peers. I felt between my Liege's comments and Chillwind's actions, that Chillwind was going to be disappointingly the trend and not the exception.
Still, being assigned this base meant I was going to be in charge of military operations in the area, at least publicly. Which, also means I'll be taking the brunt of any negatives, such as blame or assassination attempts. Joy.
"However." Kel'Thuzad once more cut into my internal monologue. "Your actions have likely earned you a window of reprieve, that is time I can use to further my studies, and possibly further yours. You will make your plan for this new territory of yours, I will come tomorrow to bring you to Naxxaramas. Dismissed."
Without any warning in the slightest Kel'Thuzad vanished in a flare of light, blinding me before I could get my bearings. When my eyes finally cleared I found myself standing in front of the cracked Cathedral doors, pushed ajar with a Ghoul seemingly waiting for me, or at the very least just standing there waiting for an order. With a pulse the Ghoul fell into step beside me, chewing relentlessly on a bone I didn't want to know where it got from, and I entered the Cathedral to finish up.
The cathedral's inside was surprisingly… not destroyed despite the broken doors leading in. If anything, it was the picture of perfect cleanliness and order, books were placed neatly on tables, carpets had not a speck of dirt… hell there were even candles with flames still going. It looked like a horde of undead hadn't just gone and rampaged through here… though that being said, I had no idea which way my undead went when they barged in.
And frankly? I didn't care so long as they finished whatever was left of the Onslaught.
Still, it was strange to see something so pristine given everything happening right now, and it made me increasingly unnerved the farther I went inside. All it took was one squad of Onslaught left behind hidden in this hallway, and I'd be killed rendering everything that I'd just been through a waste. But, much to my surprise and relief, nothing waited in the alcoves, no booby traps triggered themselves, I just kept walking through the halls until I reached another set of doors.
Considering my… 'condition', and that the doors, while normal-sized, were made of metal, I sent the Ghoul at my side to push open the door, the excitable thing gibbering as it rushed over. As it opened the door, I took a moment to examine it, something just not…
"You're the one that killed the Kvaldir by themself…"
The Ghoul turned its head just as the door creaked to a stop, tilting it to the side just like… This was either the luckiest Ghoul to exist, or just one of the most tenacious, maybe both. It didn't do much else beyond stare at me and gnaw on its bone, though I could feel at least some semblance of guiding sapience in that blank gaze.
Shaking my thoughts away, I moved past the Ghoul and into the chapel proper. I took a cursory look around, and found several pews, places to kneel, and an altar of some sorts… which had the Assassin sitting on it next to the butchered corpses of some priests. Pointedly ignoring said corpses, I focused on the woman who had noticed me immediately. She leapt off the altar, seemingly teleporting to my side in a flash of smoke and mist.
Giving a deep bow, even as I took a step back in surprise at the abrupt movement, the Assassin spoke in a rather light, yet serious tone. "The last of the workers and sermon-givers are being taken care of by Heinreich and the rest, Master." I tried to fight the flinch that came with that word's utterance, but it was still violent and very much noticeable, given that it stopped the young woman from continuing. It wasn't something that could be helped, years of social conditioning mixed into the final actions of my time among the living...
"Don't call me Master. Ever."
Without any hesitation the Assassin nodded, as if that was the most normal reply she had heard, flanking me as I kept moving towards the altar. "If that is what you wish, my Lady, it will be shared with the rest." I fought the urge to sigh… it was better than 'Master', and all the negative connotations associated with that word… but it wasn't much better.
Glancing at my 'subordinate', I tried what I hoped would work in getting her to just call me by my name, instead of some assuredly convoluted title system. "... My name is Wraith, just… call me that."
"As you wish Lady Wraith."
… My eye twitched. "Just Wraith please." Was it too much to ask for just being called by my name? I mean, sure I raised her from the dead, and actively controlled her to a degree… but I didn't want to be constantly reminded that I had a sentient being under my control. Regardless... "Anyway, why did you even start calling me Master?"
A note of joy entered the woman's voice, the first shred of emotion I had heard from her at all, aside from her execution of the Onslaught Commander. "With the death of Lord Damion and you claiming the Harbor, Lady Wraith, you are now Master of the Harbor. With you refusing to be given that title, you are now the 'Lady of the Harbor'."
… I wasn't going to get her to stop with the title was I… Great. I knew there was going to be a convoluted naming setup.
"That's… great." As I reached the altar I turned and let the Death magic pour off me, snaking through the room, watching in fascination as it burrowed into each body. They all jerked 'awake' roughly at the same time, blue fire flaring temporarily in the eyes of those I could see.
I glanced over to the Assassin, who had yet to take her eyes off me. I suppose now was as good of a time as any to see if there was a real sentience behind her eyes, or if I was just getting disturbingly good at talking to myself. "Tell me, Assassin, do you have a name?"
"Thessa, Lady Waith, just Thessa." At my prompting she elaborated, "Henrich and I were orphans before the plague, and commoners at that, last names were never something we had nor needed."
Off to a good start I suppose, I could assume that Henrich was the man she fought beside. I didn't need much explanation as to how a pair of orphans ended up joining a fanatical terrorist group. "And you have no issues with me raising your fellows?"
She jerked at that, at first I thought it was out of anger but rather it was confusion that colored her words, "My Lady…?" He irises briefly glowed blue before she relaxed, "Oh, of course not. Henrich and I were mildly ostracized, as we were promoted sub-commanders despite our lack of Faith in the Light. So long as Henrich stands by my side, I do not care."
Something was off about what just happened, but I couldn't pinpoint it. "And the rest, how will they handle their new… employment?"
"...They will handle it, My Lady."
There it was again… I pushed that discrepancy aside and turned to the Onslaught that stood patiently where they were raised, waiting for a command. I tapped my staff twice, "Go. Fetch the bodies and bring them to this room, if there are no bodies, all available are to assist in reconstruction and repair of this base." They saluted, fist over their heart, before marching out.
Handle it, I suppose they shall.
I found a good position to sit down and gave on last command to Thessa. "I will be meditating, disturb me only if the need is great."
That got a bow from her, "By your Will, Lady Wraith."
My eyes closed.
"That was quite a fun little excursion! Shame all those people had to die though."
I sighed and opened my eyes to look at her. "Is this going to be a normal thing?" I wouldn't let her commandeer the conversation this time.
She locked eyes with me, and when we did, she smirked. I could feel the smug, no, really, I could. I could feel it because she's projected the exact same smug face as- I blinked, as uh… I cradled my head, trying to picture her didn't work. Her name, what was her- Lisa! I frown, something felt wrong, was that her name? I shook my head, of course it was. Getting shot in the end must've rattled my memory a bit.
I opened my eyes- When did I close them? I opened my eyes to find Queen Administrator standing imperiously over me, frowning. "Yes?"
"You are more upset about forgetting… Lisa… Than the wholesale and brutal slaughter of several hundred humans." She began pacing back and forth in front of me, cupping her chin in her only hand, pouting all the while.
I stood up as I had enough of sitting on the ground and - literally - being looked down upon. "Your point? It was the task assigned to me by Kel'Thuzad, and it advanced your own goals as well. Is that not satisfactory?" Why was my Partner pointing these things out? Last I checked the Shards participated in repeated wholesale multi-dimensional parrellel planatary genocide. Which, actually, now that I think about it sounds incredibly impressive.
"Mhrm! I have decided!" She pointed at me, my nose specifically according to my suddenly crossed eyes. When did she get so close? How is she so quiet- Right. Mindscape. She continued, "For as long as you lack it, I shall be your 'Moral Compass'!"
That was by far the most ridiculous thing that I've ever heard. The fact that it's coming out of 'my' mouth, with 'my' voice, in such a happy manner is just… I started laughing. "What! Don't make fun of me!" She was pouting again. "I thought long and hard about this you know, as your Partner I need to help you. And while your actions were, by your odd human standards, not entirely for the best… Your heart was in the right place. So, while you suffer from a sudden complete lack of all moral and ethical guidelines you once held, I shall hold them for you."
I just looked at her with amusement, "And how exactly are you qualified to be my-" I raised my hand and made air quotations with it, "- 'Moral compass'?" You know, air quotes are a lot less mocking when you only have one hand to make them with.
She let her own single hand drop to her hip as she smiled at me. "Well that's easy, I've been recording your brain and thoughts since we started. I've already analyzed, dissected, cross-referenced, and compiled the slow progression and fine tuning that you went through in the time leading up to the final battle. Then, I organized it all using emotion readings at the times for order of importance, don't worry I cross-checked them too with your hindsight of those events."
I could only stare in growing horror as I felt violated on a level I didn't know I could have been. Which was apparently misinterpreted as she quickly rushed to… reassure me? "Oh sorry, right. The raw data might be a bit much, so I composed it into a multi-leveled tabulated bullet point list with caveats included." She nodded to herself, "And hyperlinked to the sources of course just in case you are doubtful where it came from."
I didn't have words to respond with. I wasn't exactly sure how I was supposed to respond to this. I was so outside my depth of experience at this that I nearly wanted to just say 'Thank You' and never acknowledge it again. But… "You analyzed every second of my life and all of the choices in it to create a… Moral Compass Bullet List."
She gave me a closed-eyed smile, nodding her head like she was satisfied that because I 'understood' it it means she gave me a successful explanation. She didn't- I was… I was getting massively side-tracked. Again. I refocused on her to find her still nodding her eyes closed. There was effectively a neon sign over her head that said 'Praise me!'.
My shoulders slumped, I wanted to obviously stay on my Partner's good side. It wasn't like she would know what she did was incredibly invasive, especially considering the fact that her own self-actualized mental template was apparently… me. A chill went down my spine that left me confused, I wasn't sure why I felt that was a bad thing. If anything it would let us communicate better.
Right?
I shook my head and sighed, I was getting side-tracked again. "Alright, thank you, Partner. You… clearly put a lot of effort into this, all to help me." The nodding stopped as she just basked in the light, bare-minimum praise I gave her. She still didn't open her eyes, but through our link I could feel the sheer Satisfaction from her.
I cleared my throat to gain her attention. She opened her eyes and her smile dropped a fraction. "Fine, fine. Yes, you came in to talk business and not have a nice conversation." She strode back to her throne and placed herself in it at a jaunty angle. Her face falling back into that subtle smugness that tickled the back of my brain with memories, while also seemingly not out of place on my face.
Did she… practice this? I feel like she practiced this. There was no way I could have pulled it off, and if she's drawing from me- Side-tracking again. Why can't I focus? I wanted to talk to Queen about my Liege. "Kel'Thuzad."
She raised her brow, "Yes what about this… Lich. References indicate he is some form of Undead magic-user." She snorted and shook her head at the idea, I knew where she was coming from. Shards worked on high-level reality manipulation via absurd levels of energy and extreme proficiency at foundational level understanding of the laws of reality. Magic was, simply, anathema to that understanding, yet we had seemed to be handling it well so far if Kel'Thuzad's comments proved true. She continued, "That is theoretically immortal due to an object known as a 'phylactery' that holds his… soul. A soul being the meta-physical condensation of the very concept of that person, allowing them to revive when they are killed."
Her face twisted in displeasure, as no doubt, did mine. I apparently had a soul now too, since I was seemingly revived from Death as a non-Lesser Undead regardless of what Chillwind's insults implied. What kind of distinction there was between Lesser Undead and Greater… I wasn't sure. My body was sure there was a difference but it wasn't readily giving up it's secrets.
And if I had a soul, did that mean Queen Administrator too had a soul… or did we share mine? I voiced my thoughts on that, to which she grimmly nodded. "I had thought the same Host, There should be no physical connection left yet… your soul remembers. Near the end of that final battle of ours, we overlapped quite a bit, did we not?"
We both drifted off, remembering that haze we had descended into, where I was Queen Administrator and she was Me. Eventually, I voiced my agreement. "Yes, we did, I suppose it's something to look into but... Can we not experiment on our soul until we find out all we can?"
She nodded in acquiescence, "Of course, I would never, purposely, endanger you Host." I gave her a flat look and raised my brow in response. She flushed and quickly added, "Well at least not before telling you the calculated risks first, obviously. And I will have you know, I am quite good at mathematics."
I couldn't help it, I snorted at her straight face when she delivered that line. And I had to hold back laughter when she tilted her head in confusion at me, with a bewildered expression on her face. Is it narcissistic to call a... Clone… of yourself adorable?
With a flex of Will I schooled my expression I got back on topic. "Kel'thuzad. Thoughts?"
She leaned back in her throne and cupped her chin once more, "Hrm, I agree with your earlier assessment. It was not likely staged, and he was truthful with you on you being an experiment of his. His offer of training is likely also truthful, he wants to study you, and that's all the easier if he can control your environment. The field testing was likely exactly that, to see if you were worth his time."
I nodded in agreement, if simple displeasure could invoke such degrees of fear in immortals he probably and no need for manipulation. Then I remembered Alexandria. Seemingly immortal, immense power, physically but also social and politically. She fell to me too, in the end. "Do you think Chillwind's actions were a set up?"
She pondered on that, "No, I don't think so. But… " She paused to frown, clearly unhappy with whatever conclusion she came to. "It was entirely possible if this Kel'Thuzad had control of who resurrects us, he intentionally placed us with Chillwind, knowing it would provoke some form of reaction from him. Reactions that he could later use as leverage when it came to dealing with you."
She tapped her cheek, eyes unfocused, likely running through many iterations of thought with what information we had. "Kel'Thuzad gives a command to a subordinate he knows will provoke a certain response, then places you with Chillwind , likely knowing what Chillwind would do. Giving him the opportunity to naturally reprimand Chillwind, earn a positive reputation with you, all the while moving his other subordinates around while making it seem like he had no involvement in anything that happened."
I processed that entire line of thought, it fit. Despite my feelings on the whole situation, and what I've been told, I can't help but feel like the average person - mage or not - didn't seek out Undeath in this world because they were a good guy. Especially if going Undead turns the whole world against you.
I relaxed, regardless of his manipulations Kel'Thuzad was still my Liege, and a valuable source of knowledge. I locked eyes once more with my Partner and we both nodded. "For now, yes, we shall have to entreat with him. And as he said, it seems he prefers it when you act the humble underling." She stared down at me, knowing exactly what she was asking of me.
It seems I had a new task assigned to me. "Very well, I shall endeavor to do so to my utmost abilities."
Queen Administrator gave an amused smile, "I'm sure you will."
I rose from my meditations, set on fulfilling my new task when I realized something. She had played me again! I never got to ask about the bane or the Deathbolt or the combat data or… I glanced at the two sub-commanders flanking me, having apparently decided to guard me during my meditations. Or why all the Onslaught are seemingly self-aware!