The OP Lich is a Returnee, Chapter 136 (Patreon)

Chapter 136 – Breakfast Chat

While I was an immortal lich, and therefore did not need to eat to survive, I did still take some pleasure in ‘human’ actions like eating breakfast, when I had cause to indulge in them. It was one of the ways I tried to stay grounded, connected to the mortal world. Some might wonder why I felt it important to remain connected to mortal wants and desires, but they did not understand how easy it would be for me to simply wave a hand and eliminate entire swathes of people in this world that was so much weaker than Onerth.

Becoming undead was not without its issues. You inevitably lost part of what made your mortal existence worth living. Ghouls were unpleasant to look upon, and craved the flesh of the living. Wraiths lost their entire corporeal form, and envied those who could still touch. Mummies were often bound to tombs, cursed to be unable to leave save to hunt down those who stole from them. Vampires were forced to forsake the sun, and drink human blood. And a lich had most of their emotions and desires suppressed.

I was keenly aware of how easy it would be for me to just toss aside my mortal connections. Even my family were only important to me because I wished them to be. I was incapable of true love, but I could almost trick myself, as long as I kept myself bound to human lifestyles and routines.

Another reason for it was the fact that I was all too aware of how limiting it could be for a lich to take the ‘long view’ of everything. When you thought in terms of “Oh, I can spend a couple decades on that, no problem,” then it was all too easy to let things stagnate, or become mired in a single train of thought. You risked losing the ability to adapt, to think quickly, to improvise. And that could mean the difference between victory and defeat.

Indeed, on Onerth, most of those who became liches followed one of two paths. The first set about research projects or the like and ignored the world, spending untold ages in the pursuit of their obsession, even when all trace of the challenge they’d set themselves to solving had been worn away and erased by time, making their work irrelevant. The second became lost in their own sense of power, and tried to marshal their undead armies to destroy all who set themselves against them. Inevitably, those types were hunted down by Summoned Heroes and destroyed, their phylacteries shattered and their souls given over to Murena for judgement.

Neither path appealed to me, especially as I had achieved my vengeance upon Onerth for what was done to me, and my classmates. With that in mind, I consciously chose to exist in my human guise most of the time, and engage in human pastimes, like eating meals with my disciples. The fact that doing so meant that mortals found it easier to converse with me than they did when I was acting as the Lich Queen was another benefit.

Which was why we had all gathered in a nearby restaurant to enjoy breakfast together. The conversation was pleasant enough, since my disciples, Chihomi, and Koyama had all been around me long enough to be comfortable with me, which helped the Chilean contingent relax more. Which was important, since being too tense would likely cause them to stumble during the ritual ahead.

Subteniente Laguna was the first one to gain the courage to ask me something directly. “So, your Majesty, is it true that you set the other world into some kind of magical apocalypse? There are stories going around that you basically destroyed the world as you came back to our world.”

I saw the other two Chileans stiffen slightly at the rather abrupt question, but smiled. I wasn’t ashamed of the subject, after all. Actually, as a lich, it would take far more than that for me to feel shame, since that was one of the emotions that was suppressed by my nature.

“Well, I wouldn’t say it was a total apocalypse. But there were definitely scars upon that world from my leaving. The lands that had been conquered by the Demon King had been stripped of all weapons more powerful than a kitchen knife and denuded of all industry save agriculture. The land of Haerth itself was destroyed utterly, and left with a miasma to cause monsters of great power to rise up in the next few years. In Athelia, the former capitol would have been erased from the map due to the explosion that the returning ritual would have caused. And, without my army there to hold them back, the feral monsters I had allowed to grow in strength and number in my lands would be free to cause havoc upon the Free Kingdoms that had spent twenty years with their armies growing weak from idleness.

“At the same time, my returning would have caused two other things to happen. First, I ensured that all slave collars in the Free Kingdoms had been replaced with versions of my own design, which were set to shatter all at once when I returned to Earth, and the design of the original collars was erased, along with all who knew how to make them. And second, I ensured that a former Summoned Hero who had been sealed out of fear of their power was released from their prison. I left a message for them, telling them of what I did, and giving them a copy of the Ritual of Returning. Whether they returned home, or decided to take their vengeance upon the descendants of those who betrayed them, I do not know.”

I paused to sip my coffee, and said, “So, no, I did not destroy the other world. However, I did set Onerth a trial that they must overcome on their own, without summoning others to do their dirty work for them. After all, I made certain that every copy of the Hero Summoning ritual was destroyed, so that they would not be able to do to others what was done to my class. Whether the world of Onerth survives or not is entirely dependent on their own power. Still, there are some resilient peoples in that world, so I doubt that they’ll all be wiped out. Or perhaps the Hero that was sealed will take them under their wing, and rule over them. Either way, I have no intention of checking in on that world, to see what happens.”

“I see,” Mayor Freixa said, nodding slowly. “You did not destroy the world, but you did punish them, and made it so that their survival was solely in their hands. It is the same as how you’ve started teaching the basics of the other world’s magic to people here, rather than just taking over, right? Allowing people to make their own decisions, and fight their own battles, yes?”

“Indeed,” I smiled. “Frankly, if I wished to take over a country, a continent, or even the world, there is not a single country that could stop me. Entities like the Primordial, Lord Dagon, could best me, but such beings do not bother themselves with the mortal world directly, unless the mortal world directly impacts them. So long as my conquest did not target them, or those under their influence, then they would not move against me directly, which would leave my conquest effectively unchallenged.”

The mood turned tense for a moment, but I smiled, and continued. “But there is no need for concern. I have no desire to rule the world. So long as the powers that be do not try and control me, or think that they can force me to do their bidding, then I have no reason to overturn them, or install puppet governments in their place. I will not allow governments to control me, but, so long as they do not target me or mine, I am willing to leave things be, and let them grow naturally.”

Capitán Venegas stroked his chin, and said, “So, you’re like those Primordials, in that respect?”

I had to laugh at the comparison. “Honestly, you give me far too much credit, putting me on the same level as them. Our disinterest in ruling the mortal world is the only way we are comparable. I could never become as them, without first finding a way to transcend the limitations of perception that being a creature of the world entails. It would be far easier for me to become a goddess than to become a Primordial.”

Koyama raised an eyebrow. “Is something like that actually possible? Like, for someone to become an actual god?”

“Oh, yes,” I nodded. “Of course, ‘possible’ does not mean ‘easy’. At least, not in practice. The mechanics of becoming a deity by your own will, rather than being granted apotheosis by an existing god, are simple enough, but actually pulling it off requires a lot of effort, and not just from the person trying to become a god.”

Ya frowned. “And how, exactly, would one go about doing that? From what you say, it doesn’t seem like something that could be done by power alone.”

“Indeed. Obviously, power is part of it. You have to have reached a certain level of power to even begin to walk the path of deification. However, the harder part is getting worshippers. You have to have actual people offering true belief in you, not just as a person, but as a higher being. In Japan, Tokugawa Ieyasu would be one example, as well as Emperor Jimmu, who was said to be descended from Amaterasu. Both were living beings who were deified to some degree by the people. In Jimmu’s case, there is always the possibility that he actually could have achieved ascension, if his power were enough, since magic was not yet sealed during his reign.”

“Do you think it possible?” Naya asked, eyes wide in wonder. Well, not that I didn’t understand. We were talking about some of the basic myths of Japanese culture, after all.

“I think it possible that he achieved enough faith that, had his power been enough, he would have achieved ascension. However, for a human, with a human lifespan, to achieve such power? Highly unlikely, unless he truly were descended from a goddess. As powerful as I am now, even I would need to be more powerful by far to achieve it, assuming that I could overcome the other barriers.”

Mayor Freixa took a breath, and said, “Other than an insane amount of power, and having devoted worshipers, what barriers are there?”

“There are some technical things, but for someone who both has the power and believers required, the biggest hurdle is in actively letting go of your mortality, and the mortal world. And, I mean to say, this goes beyond simple measures like becoming an undead. Even undead are counted as mortals in this case. Actually, a lich like myself clings more tightly to the mortal world than even short-lived humans do, for most of my kind are caused by a being whose death was approaching, and they refused to let go of the mortal world, for one reason or another.”

I paused, and then said, “To become a god, though? You have to let go of all of that, even as you gather all of your power, and the faith of your followers, and use it to reforge your soul into a being of power alone. If you fail, you die. It is said that those who fail at apotheosis have their souls torn asunder, with each piece tossed back to the world as new souls.”

“Your Majesty,” Chihomi spoke, her eyes shining with an otherworldly light, “my Lord wishes to know how you came by this knowledge. And what becomes of the followers who have the object of their faith destroyed so?”

“The followers of a failed god have the belief ripped from them. If they are lucky, they survive, though the scars upon their minds and souls may make them seem as a completely different person. Even those who do not worship the failed god will be affected, as the failed god is essentially erased from the world, so none will even remember who they were, or what they did. The ritual that made the UnNamed what they are is but a smaller portion of what happens to one who fails at being a god, and all those they’ve touched in their mortal lives. It is not something to be considered lightly.

“As for how I know this? It is part of the knowledge of souls, and the magics relating to them that I was granted by Murena. She took care in ensuring I had this knowledge, in part to warn me of the dangers of pursuing such a path, but also so that, if I did decide on it, that I did not move prematurely, and waited until I was truly ready.”

“Then allow Us to add to your education, young lich, in return for your guiding our handmaiden in learning of her powers.” Though the mouth that spoke was Chihomi’s, and the voice was hers, I knew that it wasn’t her speaking. There was too much power in that voice, even hidden behind the veil of the young girl’s mortal body.

I bowed my head to the girl, or rather the being speaking through her, and said, “My thanks, Lord Dagon. And may I say that you have done an excellent job of moderating your power. I know it is not easy for one such as you to speak without the words causing madness in those who hear it.”

“We take the compliment in the spirit it was offered, young lich, for We learned the trick from observing you, and how you taught our handmaiden to dampen her power and not cause fear in those around. A useful trick We had not thought of, until seeing it, for We always just looked for those who had minds that would not break from Our whispers.

“But enough of that. You should know that there is another path to godhood, if you are capable of taking it. You must dine on the flesh of a Primordial, and not be destroyed by its essence.”

I frowned at that. “To dine on a Primordial’s flesh is no simple task. Even if the flesh is offered freely, rather than forcibly taken, could a mortal even consume such flesh, unless it were cut into pieces small enough to swallow in one gulp? Because I doubt a mortal’s teeth would be able to chew such flesh.”

“We did not say that it would be easy, just that it was possible. But We like to think that you may yet find a way, and it amuses Us to see what you will do.”