Grand Game 368: Drawing out the Subject (Patreon)

“So, how do you want to die today?”

Regus stared at me blackly, unamused by my glib question. “One quick strike through the heart,” he said finally. “That’s the cleanest.”

I nodded. “As you wish.”

“Ready?”

“I’m ready,” he confirmed squeezing his eyes shut. “Make sure you—”

Lunging forward, I thrust ebonheart outward.

You have killed Regus with a fatal blow.

The big man’s eyes snapped open in momentary shock before the light in them faded, and he slumped lifelessly to the floor.

Farren chuckled. “You don’t waste time, do you?”

Turning around, I faced him. “How would that have helped? He was already struggling with the idea. Better it was done quick and clean.”

“I don’t disagree,” the lich said. He tilted his head to the side. “Is that how you want it, too?”

Farren was referring to another key element of the plan—at least that’s what I hoped he was referring to. Gritting my teeth, I spread my arms wide and exposed my chest. “Do it.”

The lich did not need to be asked twice. A split second later, a jagged scar of darkness rushed across the room to strike me dead center.

You have failed a magical resistance check! You are stunned. Duration: 6 seconds.

A darkness bolt has injured you!

The black bolt sent me hurtling across the room to crash against the far wall. “Owff,” I exhaled as the air rushed out of me, and I sank to the ground in a parody of Regus. For a few seconds, helpless to do otherwise, I sat there dazed and incoherent.

“Ouch,” Farren remarked when the stun wore off. “That looked like it hurt. Did it do the trick?”

Now I know how Regus felt, I grumbled. Ignoring the lich’s inquisitive gaze, I staggered upright and checked the waiting Game messages.

Void armor charge remaining: 73%. Your health has decreased to 47%.

Farren had attacked me with a tier six dark magic spell. But since I was not in actual combat, my null force skill had not advanced. The Adjudicator could not be fooled that way. That lack, though, would not stop my void armor from functioning.

“Not quite,” I admitted. “It’ll take one more hit.”

The lich raised his hand.

“Wait!” I said, gesturing frantically for him to stop. “Let me heal first.”

“Oh, right,” Farren said, hiding a grin as he lowered his arm. “Go ahead.”

Glaring at the lich for good measure, I summoned psi and  set about restoring my lost health.

I had not attempted to use my void armor in this way before for obvious reasons. Doing so risked revealing my Class. But too much rested on the outcome of the forthcoming battle to let secrecy hamper my efforts. The whole purpose of abusing my void armor this way was to gain a spell capable of destroying the archlich’s phylactery. There was more to it, though.

Farren had deliberately used dark magic and not a spell from his primary magical discipline, death, against me. All three lich’s—and the harbinger, for that matter—were immune to death magic. So, not only would the stolen spell help me destroy the lich’s phylactery, but it might also come in handy against my nemesis.

You have healed yourself of all injuries. Your health is at 100%.

I was ready again, and before I could reconsider, I gestured for Farren to proceed.

A second bar of blackness flashed across the room.

A darkness bolt has injured you!

Void armor charge remaining: 46%.

Void thief triggered! Void siphon and negate activated!

“Goddamn, that hurt,” I cursed as I picked myself up six seconds later.

Farren waved away my complaints. “But did it work?”

You have acquired the spell, darkness bolt (stolen), from the lich, Farren, and will retain memory of it for the next 12 hours.

Darkness bolt (stolen) is a tier 6 piercing spell that will bypass shields and magical wards of tier 4 and lower. It is especially difficult to resist and will deal pure Force damage. Targets struck by the spell may be stunned.

Wiping away the bloody smear from the corner of my lip, I smiled at Farren, “Got it.”

The lich shook his head in rueful admiration. “That’s a powerful ability you got there. Imagine what you could do in the right party.”

I nodded, having the very same thought. It was too bad I didn’t have more higher-leveled allies that I would voluntarily share knowledge of my void thief ability with. Still, stealing spells from my allies at opportune moments was something to keep in mind for the future.

Now, though, it was time to see to my final preparations. Removing the mage’s robes I’d used to get here, I inspected the faces of each of the corpses closely.

“What are you doing?” Farren asked curiously.

“Looking for a new disguise,” I replied offhandedly.

“Ah,” the lich exclaimed. He pointed out a brown-haired human ranger. “Use him. No one will think it odd seeing him near Loskin’s mansion.”

I didn’t bother asking why. “What’s his name?”

“Bartimus.”

“Thanks.” I peered intently at the dead ranger’s face for a moment, memorizing its lines and curves, then took it for my own.

You have cast facial disguise, assuming the visage of Bartimus, a level 138 human ranger. Duration: 3 hours.

Re-equipping my swords and backpack, I strode across the room and picked up the bag the lich had brought for me. I was finally ready.

Farren’s face grew serious. “Before you go, I have one last gift to impart.”

I looked at him questioningly.

Not explaining, the lich stepped forward and rested his hand on my shoulder. My arm began to tingle at the point of contact, and from there the sensation spread rapidly to encompass my entire body.

Farren has cast reaper’s shield on you, granting you the buff: death’s favored (+75% death magic resistance). Duration: 1 hour.

“Wow,” I exclaimed. “That’s some buff.”

The lich smiled. “It might just save your life if Loskin catches you unawares.” He grinned lopsidedly. “Or at least, let you survive his opening salvo.”

I chuckled. “I’ll do my best to not let it come to that.”

“You do that,” Farren said, patting my arm. He stepped back. “ I guess it’s time we part ways.”

I nodded. The clock was ticking, and soon someone else would come to investigate. “Good luck,” I said, and turning about, strode towards the door.

“The same to you, Wolf,” Farren called back.

✵ ✵ ✵

I exited the building but did not immediately leave the vicinity. There was one more thing I needed to do before I could head to the court’s center.

Glancing left and right, I checked both approaches to Regus’ house. It was ‘morning’ in the compound and the streets were busy, but no one appeared to be paying me any particular attention.

Satisfied, I turned right into the street and walked casually until I was a couple of villas away, then crossed over and concealed myself in an inconspicuous cranny.

You are hidden.

Less than a minute later, a familiar figure materialized outside Regus’s house. Farren. Swinging left into the street, he cut left again at the first crossroads. Heading, I knew, for Loskin’s mansion.

If everything went to plan—the new plan, I thought wryly—the archlich would soon be making an appearance. Folding my arms, and bowing my head, I settled myself to wait.

It would not be long now.

✵ ✵ ✵

Less than ten minutes later, a large procession turned into the street, heading in the direction of Regus’ house. Two black-robed figures were at their fore. One was Farren.

The other had to be Loskin.

Straightening, I studied the archlich intently. Loskin was gaunt and, judging by appearance, his current flesh golem was even older than Farren's. His colorless eyes were deeply sunken, his hands skeletal, and his head and hands were completely hairless. Not even eyebrows troubled his face.

He was a grim-looking figure indeed, and one I felt no little trepidation in observing, but Adriel had assured me Loskin had not invested heavily in Perception. My surveillance should go undetected. Reaching out with my will, I inspected the vail thin figure.

The target is Loskin, a level 292 archlich.

Pursing my lips, I whistled soundlessly. Adriel had been right, the archlich was close to becoming a Power. He would not be an easy foe to tackle alone—but I had no intention of doing that.

My gaze skipped from Loskin to the rest of his party. My analyze had gone undetected, and no one had glanced my way. Without pause, the entire retinue—made up of untold number of hangers-on and bodyguards—strolled into Regus’s house.

That was my cue to leave.

Slipping out of my hiding spot, I dashed into a side street and, affecting a nonchalance I didn’t quite feel, headed for the court’s center. Loskin was temporarily out of play, leaving me an hour to complete my tasks. It should be enough time, but I’d had no chance to scout the terrain beforehand and was unhappily aware of the risks that entailed.

I would have to rely completely on Adriel’s information and deal with any unforeseen complications as they came. Still, I was as prepared as I could be given the circumstances.

As I walked, I swept my gaze from left to right. None of the passersby gave me a second glance—which was good. So far, it seemed the deaths of Gork, Avery and Regus had not troubled Loskin enough to sound a general alert.

Shortly, I reached the large central courtyard in the middle of the archlich’s compound. Standing on its rim, and partially concealed in the shadow of a building, I scanned the area.

To my left was the archlich’s mansion. To my right, and directly opposite Loskin’s home, was the vault. Both buildings contrasted sharply with each other.

Where the mansion was all elegant lines, tall, and replete with open windows, the vault was a squat, brooding structure with only a single reinforced door to serve as an entrance. A statue fountain lay between the two buildings, its edges trimmed with hedges and flowers, and I made straight for it.

There were three possessed nearby, chatting idly amongst themselves, but they were on the other side of where I needed to be. Heading directly to one particular bush—made distinctive by the unusual color of its roses—I peered down casually.

Three hostile entities have failed to pierce your disguise.

From this close, I could see where the ground had already been softened. Excellent, I thought. It had to be the doing of Farren’s people and made my own task easier. I might not even need the shovel.

Sitting on the bench next to the rose bush, I placed Farren’s bag directly in front of the loosened soil. With the spot in question concealed from casual observation, I used the toe of my boot and reopened the hole—not a lot, but just enough for its intended cargo. Leaning down as if to rub my leg, I placed Adriel’s pouch within.

Now came the most crucial and perhaps the most dangerous part. Doublechecking that my mental defenses were in place, I upended the pouch.

You have lost 6 stygian seeds.

The small black objects glinted evilly, and freed from their imprisonment, I could only imagine what the tiny minds inside were doing. Probably yelling for their protector to come save them, I thought. Not that it would do them any good yet.

According to my lich allies, the court’s protective shield would prevent any of the seeds’ communication attempts from reaching the harbinger—which was one reason the barrier had to be lowered. The other reason, of course, being to let the harbinger in.

But first, the seeds needed fertilizing.

After a quick look around to ascertain that neither the nearby possessed nor anyone else was watching me, I reached into Farren’s satchel and removed a pouch of raw meat. Holding my breath so I didn’t gag, I poured its contents over the seeds then quickly swept soil over with my boot.

Chore done, I sat back in relief. The seeds and their food had been successfully planted.

The original plan had called for me to bury the seeds in six different locations. That way, there would’ve been less risk of them being discovered prematurely. Unfortunately, time was now at a premium, but what I’d done should work just as well. Picking up the satchel, I stood up and looked around for somewhere to hide.

It was time to change outfits.