'Why did an Emperor Lich try to contact me?'
"What's that, preacher of Solis?" Chief Koruk asked as he heard of this creature for the first time.
Sylvester recollected what he had read in the books. "This is an extremely strong dark creature that can vary in strength. They have multiple levels, Lich, Elder Lich, King Lich and Emperor Lich. This level of power, control over undead and the size of the castle—only Emperor Lich can have."
"What is a Lich? How are they made? And in terms of power, how strong is this one?"
"A wizard becomes a lich using necromancy and some other dark magic. This one is an Emperor Lich. They can be as strong as a Grand Wizard or Supreme Wizard if they're extremely aged. This is not good, Chief Koruk. This changes everything!"
Hearing Sylvester's words of doom, Chief Koruk breathed loudly and stared at the giant castle in the distance. "If the Holy Land sends their warriors, will they attack us tribes first or the undead?"
Now that was a question worth billions. After all, in the eyes of the church, Barbarians and the undead were all heathens and deserved to be killed. So, why would the church care about them? Why not kill them alongside the undead if they were going to send a vast army anyway.
Sylvester couldn't answer that, as it was not up to him to decide. "I honestly don't know, Chief. I'd have tried to reason with you if I were the Pope. But, I'm a mere Archpriest, who has enemies all around. So my values and the values of the current administration are bound to be different."
Instantly, Sylvester smelled a strong scent of sadness, anxiety, hopelessness and anger. It was understandable, as Chief Koruk knew what kind of a terrifying entity the church was in the world. They were only alive because the church simply didn't care enough to waste resources in the mountains.
Sylvester patted the tall man's shoulder. "I don't go back on my words, Chief Koruk. I said I would help you and your people settle, and it shall happen. I can't say anything about the Borzol faction, however. We might have to 'utilise' them in ways that can assure that both this Emperor Lich and they are dealt with."
Chief Koruk clearly understood what Sylvester meant by 'utilise'. So he asked directly while taking a leap of faith since all roads already led to death. "You wish to use them against the undead? How?"
Sylvester smiled and took out a neatly cut, square parchment from his pocket. He then started to write something on it while talking. "I just need you to play a game alongside me. I need you to attack Duchy of Normani with small raiding parties as if you want to take it for yourself. Make sure to only burn villages. But DO NOT harm the people!"
"What will that accomplish? The Duke of Normani will not let us live on his land later. This is contrary to my goal."
Sylvester finished writing and started folding the parchment into a paper plane. "Don't you have a lot of gold? Burned villages can be rebuilt. So just do as I ask you, fight when I need you to, and your people will never have to sleep hungry again."
Chief Koruk frowned. "That's not very… reassuring. So you want me to trust you blindly when we met merely a week ago?"
Sylvester swiftly threw the paper plane from the cliff. He also used elemental wind magic from the palm of his right hand and ensured the stream of air brought it as close to the castle as possible.
He then smiled at the man beside him. "That's exactly what I'm asking you to do, Chief Koruk. In any case, what other choices do you have? Not to mention, I am the blessed son of Solis, and to lie like this is against my faith. Believe me. I do not wish for Solis' retaliation."
Sylvester, a spy, was used to creating the most fooling expressions. He played with the Chief using words. Although his promise was not a lie, he didn't know how many of them would survive.
Chief Koruk neither agreed nor denied. Instead, he simply went with the plan and changed the topic. "What did you write on that parchment? Undead can't read, in case you don't know."
"But an Emperor Lich can. If he's in control, it shouldn't be hard to sense when one of the undead picks up the parchment. As for the rest, only time will tell. We should return now, or else many anxious thoughts will rise." He briefly explained and prepared to move.
Swiftly, Chief Koruk took the leading position and guided the way back. Through the changing hills, they crossed the vast plains and mountains of untamed wild. Snow lions, wolves, snakes and many more. It was understandable why no one would wish to live there. The place seemed to be designed to kill humans.
But soon enough, they circled Mount Dimos and came closer to the Grand Fort Storst. Their journey time was reduced by a few hours this time as they already knew the clear path.
Thud!
But just then, something fell from the sky right before them. Sylvester's spear came up, as did Chief Koruk's longsword.
"It's a frozen bird." Chief Koruk checked what fell. "Poor thing."
Sylvester checked it, too, and soon felt all the hair on his body stand. "This… It has no ice on its body, yet it's frozen."
Quickly, Sylvester looked left and right. Eventually, his eyes rested on Mount Dimos in the distance at a great height. He noticed a black figure as tiny as a speck of dust. With his monocular, he saw it clearly and felt his feet turn colder and his forehead sweat in nervousness.
'Don't, buddy. I'm trying to save lives here.'
"What's that?" Chief Koruk also noticed the floating dot of blackness at a great height on Mount Dimos.
Sylvester sighed and put the monocular away. "Nothing, just a haunting shadow of my sins. Let's move faster, Chief Koruk. I wish to leave for the Duchy today."
Chief Koruk stared at the black floating dot and soon dismissed it to walk away. His plate was already full, and he didn't wish to enter any of Sylvester's mess.
In a few hours, they arrived at the fort and had a decent meal in warmth. Sylvester there finalised everything and decided to return. With him came an advisor of the Chief, along with a dozen men. They were going to be Sylvester's contact points with the Grand Fort Storst.
"I wish good luck on your coming raids, Chief Koruk." Sylvester bid his farewell at the gates of the fortress.
The Chief nodded, albeit hesitantly. "I hope I'm right in trusting you, preacher of Solis."
Sylvester smiled and waved back at the plethora of people waving at him from the fort walls or the gate. They were all now half-step into Sylvester's brainwashing.
'It seems I will have to play a big game of chess with not two, but six players. Thankfully, I'm the board setter.'
From there, they made their way to the Duchy of Iceling. Since an advisor of the Chief named Bajin Hawk was travelling with them, they found their way quickly this time.
The return journey was uneventful, and other than minor animals, they travelled without any storms. In three days, they reached the Last Turn. From there, they used the North Road to go south, cross the Great Chasm, and then east to the Frozen Town of the Duchy of Iceling.
Sylvester was careful, so he didn't tell Sir Dolorem or Baron Strongarm about what he saw in the north as others could hear. Nor did he ask them what they did in his absence. He had to tread carefully as the road he walked was thinner than paper.
Ting! Ting! Ting!
"What's happening there?" Advisor Bajin inquired in fright. "Are they going to attack us?"
Sylvester took the lead, frowning and wondering what it was. It was still evening, so the gates shouldn't be closed. "Stay back, and don't talk unless I tell you to."
Sylvester reached the entrances. The guards on the wall recognised him by his golden eyes & blonde hair and opened it only enough to let him enter.
"What's happening?" He questioned.
"I don't know, respected bard. I only heard the bells and closed the gates as per protocol. I can only allow you to enter, and the rest must wait outside until the order to open comes."
Sylvester sighed and looked back at Sir Dolorem, the Baron and the rest. He informed them to wait while he sorted out whatever was happening inside.
As he made his way deeper into the town, towards the castle, he noticed the people were running in a particular direction. So he caught one of them and asked what was going on.
"I don't know, but everyone is going to the orphanage, so I'm going too," the man replied and ran away.
Sighing, Sylvester also rushed to the location and found a large building surrounded by armoured soldiers of the Duchy while the Duchess was speaking to a few of her knights and Elyon.
"What's the matter, your grace?" Sylvester interrupted.
The Duchess looked at him with some silent delight in her heart. "Just on time, Lord Bard. A suspected barbarian spy somehow entered and took the orphanage as a hostage. We're trying to negotiate, but he stopped talking."
Sylvester didn't react much and rubbed his chin while looking at the building. "How many kids?"
"Two hundred at most," she exclaimed. "Such beastly people, don't they worry about their soul?"
"I will enter the building from the roof. You keep trying to talk to him. Elyon, with me," Sylvester suggested. Then, without waiting for a reply, he went a distance away and used light steps to arrive at the roof of the double-storey building.
From the roof, he and Elyon entered using simple earth magic. Then, remaining completely silent, they went to the ground floor.
'Strange, I don't feel any fear, sadness or anger… It's all just de—'
He swallowed his words as he reached the ground floor's large hall.
"This is madness!" Elyon exclaimed, enraged and eyes bloodshot.
Sylvester gulped his saliva and agreed. There, right in front of him, all the children and ten caretakers were sitting neatly in a row against the orphanage wall, each with their throats slit and hands chopped off. There was just blood everywhere, like a river of death converged.
On their faces were dried tears, reminiscent of the terror they must have lived through merely minutes ago.
Thud!
Sylvester took a long breath and leaned against a wall, as the horror was a lot, even for him. There were tiny few-day-old babies and seven-year-old toddlers—hundreds of them.
He looked to the side and noticed a dead man sitting by the wall with a knife planted in his heart—the likely culprit.
"A man who could do this can have no soul," he muttered.
Yet, Sylvester moved close to the little, doll-like dead bodies, drenched his hand in the warm blood and wrote something on the wall with it.
'Only the mountain mothers reign supreme.'
Elyon firmly questioned him. "What are you doing, Lord Bard?"
Sylvester, with a gloomy expression, cleaned his hands, dried the blood on the wall with magic, and walked to the culprit's body to taint its hands.
"I'm ensuring the sacrifices of these young ones don't go to waste. Go and open the gates. Let them come in and see the horror."
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