The OP Lich is a Returnee, Chapter 140 (Patreon)

Chapter 140 – Considerations

Eventually, the newforged living golems were persuaded to wear enough clothes to be decent. Though it took some doing, to be sure. Sentient golems were always prideful beings, and somewhat vain about their appearance. Usually because they had literally been sculpted into forms that tried to approximate perfection (or at least get close as was possible for mortal skill) to begin with.

Still, the conflict between their desire to display their glory to everyone and the general need for people to not see such things unless they wanted to would have to play out in their own way. The most I could do to help was to suggest to Mayor Freixa that the Chilean government work with the Bronze Paragons to find some clothing that enhanced their forms, rather than simply hiding them. That would appeal to the golems’ vanity, which would encourage them to keep the clothes on. Most of the time.

Getting back to the surface was a simple affair, as I thought it would be. A twist of mana channeled into the aetherite crystal, and we found ourselves at the bottom of the twisting stairs once more. A piece of crystal had been embedded in the rise of the lowest stair, such that you would never have noticed if you were not looking for it. Unfortunately, the crystal was evidently only designed for a single use, or the strain of all of us passing through at once was too much for it, because it promptly shattered and then turned to dust before our eyes.

“A pity,” I said, looking at the crystal. “I would have liked to study the crystal, and see how it worked, and whether it could be replicated. While I know others besides myself know how to teleport, it is not a magic that most can easily accomplish. Having a means to further encourage people to move around would weaken some of the nationalist tendencies that some groups use to hold on to power.”

Freixa frowned at that. “What do you mean, your Majesty?”

“Oh, it is a simple fact that people who are exposed to more types of people are less likely to display tribalistic behaviors. This was true in the other world, and it is true here, as well. Who is more likely to have a positive impression of foreigners in this country, someone from the rural mountains whose idea of traveling involves reaching the nearest city, or someone in a major metropolitan area, who maybe has traveled outside the country, or lives near and works with immigrants? Obviously, it is the second group.

“Isolation breeds tribalism. On a national scale, it breeds nationalism. Now, there are some benefits to nationalism, but when it is not tempered by familiarity with ‘outsiders’, then it quickly leads to contempt or fear of the ‘other’. And that is the basis of many of the ills that have plagued this world ever since man first walked upright.”

The mayor’s eyes widened. “That is why you have been working with the local governments to deal with the seals, and why you have been spreading your teachings far and wide. You’re trying to reduce nationalism.”

“Well, that is one of my goals. There is also the fact that fear of the unknown is a primal thing, and fear makes people act in profoundly stupid ways. When the thing you fear is so obviously more powerful than you, that fear grows exponentially. I will always be far more powerful than any mortal being can hope to reach. However, if the roots of my power become known, then irrational fears about me have less room to grow, and those who have entirely rational reasons to fear me are less likely to draw my ire.”

“I see,” she nodded. “That makes a good deal of sense. There are many who just look at your power, and see the equivalent of nuclear weapons, without the ‘mutually assured destruction’ that kept them from coming into play during the Cold War. Knowing more about you, figuring out what actions provoke you, and how to avoid them, all these things help settle people’s nerves about you, yes?”

“Exactly. I have no problem being feared, but having to deal with constant attacks because the fear drives people past the point of reason is annoying. So far, I have managed by coming down so hard on those who attacked me that most of those who have some issue with me are too scared to try anything direct. I am also powerful enough that the indirect methods are all but useless against me, to the point where I can healthily ignore such things. When there are no conventional means of controlling me, and direct opposition is suicide, then most groups will look for ways to avoid dealing with me, if at all possible, or will try to find ways to entice me, rather than opposing me.”

Ya nodded, the Chinese agent chuckling as she did so. “The only sticks big enough to threaten Mistress are ones that she will respond proactively to, like with the Americans and Russians. Therefore, smarter people look to either avoid conflict with her, or find ways to at least entice her into remaining neutral, if not getting on their side.”

Naya grinned. “And since Mistress doesn’t want to be terribly involved with the governance of the world, that is easily done by just not threatening those she chooses to protect, and treating her people with respect.”

I waved a hand to my disciples as I looked at Freixa. “It is as they say. So long as those under my protection are not threatened, and are treated respectfully, I have no desire to go meddling with the affairs of different nations. I will protect those I care for, and aid my friends, but I’m not looking to conquer the world, or any foolishness like that.”

“It isn’t a matter of power, clearly,” said Capitán Venegas. “I can clearly see that you could destroy any opposition to your rule, if you wanted to.”

“Indeed. Unless someone called upon higher powers, such as the gods, or invoked the primordial beings, like Lord Dagon, I could destroy all the nations on Earth, even if they all combined their might to oppose me. Even with the creation of Heroes, like you two, there are none who could stop me. But what would I do with such a world? Turn everything into a mausoleum? I have no such appetites.”

Koyama chuckled as he began his way up the stairs. “Well, I, for one, am glad to hear you say that once again, your Majesty. While our world is far from perfect, and is likely to get all the stranger once the final seal is undone, I do not think I would make for an attractive ghoul.”

I chuckled at that as we all began the climb upwards. “There are few who do, Koyama-san. It is actually quite fascinating. You would think that any freshly reanimated body would look much the same, regardless of the type of undead it becomes, but that cannot be further from the truth. Something in the spellwork creating the undead causes them to change to fit the general image we have of those types of undead. Magic shaping itself to match the mind, no doubt.”

Subteniente Laguna frowned, and even that looked like a picture-perfect frown upon his bronze face. “How do the different types of undead change when they’re animated? I mean, other than the ghostly types, since there’s no body there.”

“Well, if we’re going from a freshly-created corpse, with little to no visible injuries? A vampire will change the least in the initial change, just gaining their fangs, and perhaps the color of their eyes changing in certain scenarios. Zombies, on the other hand, have their skin turn leathery, and they get that jerky kind of movement, unless you go for one of the more advanced versions. A skeleton, on the other hand, will stand up, with their former meat just falling off of them as they do so. Mummies need special preparation to be raised, so obviously they are different. Ghouls and their like become gaunt, with their flesh pulling back from their fingers and faces. I’m afraid they’ll never win any beauty contests, but they do make for very effective and intimidating warriors when going up against mortals.”

“Mistress,” Naya said, “if it ever comes up, I would prefer not to become a ghoul. Call me vain if you wish, but a girl has to consider her looks.”

I chuckled at that. “If you ever decide to leave behind the mortal coil and become undead, Naya, I have full confidence that you will be able to become a lich, as I did. Though you will need to create a phylactery to hold your soul before you can attempt the transformation.”

Mayor Freixa coughed to turn attention to her. “What exactly is a phylactery, and how does one go about making something like that?”

“Well, a phylactery is a container, of sorts. Some hold the blood of the living, allowing you to use magic to track them, even across the world, amongst other things. The ones I refer to, however, hold the soul of the mage who created them, meaning that, even if their physical form is destroyed, so long as the phylactery remains, the lich will return. And if a lich’s phylactery is destroyed, but their body remains, then they can create a new one to safeguard their soul. To actually kill a lich, you must destroy both them both.

“As for what form a lich’s phylactery might take? It could be anything, from a robin’s egg to a diamond the size of your head, and anything in between. The smart liches hide their phylacteries away, beyond many protections and have them specially enchanted to make them incredibly durable. But sometimes they are forced to move faster than they would like, and take the first object they can find which can hold the spellwork.

“And it is the spellwork that matters for a lich’s phylactery. Enchantments may be placed upon them for protection, but those are separate from the spells that make it what it is. Any sufficiently knowledgeable spellcaster who is powerful enough in the Death element can cast the spell, but it is a painful process, and not one to do lightly.”

“Speaking of death and so forth, what about us?” Capitán Venegas asked. “You said that we were now ‘living constructs’, akin to sentient golems. From my understanding, golems don’t age, and have no set lifespan. Does that mean we won’t die unless we’re destroyed?”

“An excellent question, and one I cannot wholly answer, unfortunately. Not because I am trying to hide anything from you, of course. Rather, I simply do not know how much of your new race’s features you will have. So far, however, every survivor of the transformation has become a creature that is extremely long-lived, if not completely immortal. So, there is some reason to believe that you are now immortal, but we won’t know for certain for a few decades.”

Mayor Freixa nodded once. “In other words, if they show signs of aging in that time, then we will know that they are mortal, and if they don’t, we’ll know they’re immortal?”

“Close enough. Though, with these two, especially, I doubt that we’ll see physical signs of aging. Their bodies are no longer skin and bones, after all. However, if their souls age, even at a slower rate, then we will know whether they can be called immortals, or whether they have simply pushed off their date with the reaper until far down the road.”

I took a breath as we made it to the top of the winding stairs, more to cause a break in the conversation than anything, since I certainly did not need to breathe. “Still, with this, my work here is done. Two seals remain, and then we will see what happens when magic fully returns to this world.”