Chapter 19

After leaving the ruined ‘tower’, the Sorcerer King had them stop by the Royal Army headquarters to see if anything new had been uncovered around the city ruins. Despite their meticulous work and the extraordinary perception of the Eight-Edge Assassins, however, the rest of the place remained an unremarkable collection of rubble.

His Majesty seemed to take the information – or lack of it – in stride. Ludmila sensed that, after investigating the colossal tower, he was now set on exploring the capital to the south in hopes of finding something even more substantial.

As they made their way back to where her vessel was moored on the river, Ludmila mulled over the words of Momon, conveyed to her by the Sorcerer King.

The history that is agreed upon.

The history that is disagreed upon.

The history that people do not believe matters.

It was a neatly-packaged way of describing a process through which one might wade through the mire of history to arrive at the truth. As it was, however, she felt that she was getting nowhere.

At first, she was something that bordered on being offended when confronted with other accounts of history that conflicted with what she had learned. Be it from temple histories, local lore, or her independent research, everything was a history that was ‘agreed upon’. Ilyshn’ish’s account of the Dwarven records was the first time that Ludmila had ever heard otherwise.

The Sorcerer King’s related account of the Dwarves’ past brought that conflict back into her awareness. Her attempts at making sense of Katze’s history with so little to go off of only caused her to draw the anomalous information back into her cross-examination of the history that she knew. At one point, Ludmila thought she had realised a way to reconcile everything, but the Sorcerer King seemed to insist that she continue scrutinising events.

A ‘wall’ existed in the region’s history, as His Majesty had noted. It was one where local records ceased to be beyond the time two centuries previous to their own. Though history was a mystery past this point, the reason for it was well known: the Demon Gods had destroyed nearly all of the nations that existed in the region – perhaps even beyond it.

Only two places survived intact, that she knew of. The first was the Slane Theocracy. The second was the Elven Kingdom in the Great Forest of Evansha, who had been the Theocracy’s ally until recent times. She supposed that there was also what the Frost Dragons and Frost Giants knew, but it was difficult to discern truth from boast in any of their tales and their accounts centred on their high mountain home.

The temple histories understandably only spoke of the Theocracy’s history as the sole remaining bastion of humanity. There was no history in the time between the advent of the Six Great Gods and the Demon gods – as far as Human knowledge was concerned – because they were not Human lands until the Demon Gods wrought calamity upon them. After the Demon Gods were vanquished by the Thirteen Heroes, the Theocracy sent great numbers of their people to seed the lands left ruined in the aftermath. Every Human nation in the north owed its founding to this effort.

With this being the case, her thoughts went further back in time, to when humanity still existed beyond their little corner of the world. Humans must have had nations before that, and she saw the one that they were currently investigating as an example of this. Perhaps those that managed to escape the destruction fled to the area where the Theocracy now stood, potentially making them the ancestors of many Humans in the present day.

Carrying this thought in her heart, waves of dull anger followed her wherever she went. What would humanity be like if they hadn’t lost everything to the cruel realities of a world that was intent on destroying them? All that they struggled with today must have surely been a trivial matter to the Humans of the past.

Ludmila glanced over her shoulder, to where the Sorcerer King and Lady Shalltear followed in the wake of her company. Was this excursion truly happenstance? Surshana was not only the god of death, but held purview over judgement and justice. This was the reason why noble families that followed The Six tended to be Surshana adherents, House Zahradnik and House Corelyn included.

It was almost certain that a great injustice had occurred here; perhaps a great reckoning was finally in the works. Once the architect of this great atrocity was unveiled, judgement would surely come, no matter how far away they were.

Upon reaching the river harbour, Ludmila activated her Frostburn Phoenix Hairpin, flying over to alight on the deck of her ship. She turned to speak to one of the Vampire Brides who were making ready for the Sorcerer King’s arrival.

“Has anything happened while we were away?”

“It’s been quiet the entire time,” the Vampire Bride replied. “Quite relaxing, actually.”

Ludmila made her rounds, inspecting her vessel and its surroundings. Nothing appeared to be amiss, though there was also no reason to suspect that anything would. She gave the ‘all clear’ to Lady Shalltear, who arrived with His Majesty shortly after. A few minutes later, they were on their way south, propelled by the river and the north wind. At their current speed, it would take perhaps three hours to draw close to their destination.

The soft sound of luxurious robes whispered over the deck. At her usual spot on the bow, Ludmila turned to find the Sorcerer King standing behind her. Lady Shalltear stood on his right side, though as his escort her focus was directed towards their surroundings.

“It shouldn’t be a long trip, I think.”

“No more than three hours, Your Majesty,” Ludmila tamped down on the pleasant warmth that rose in His Majesty’s presence. “Considering where we’re headed, it may be prudent to slow down before then in case there are hazards below the surface.”

“Hazards…I suppose I should dominate a few Wraiths and send them ahead of us underwater.”

“A prudent decision,” she nodded. “I’ve been worrying if there are any wrecks on the riverbed. That city had an expansive harbour, but I didn’t see any ships.”

Considering the fact that much of everything had been burned away, the vessels in those harbours might have been as well. Still, there should have been more than a few navigating the river that had been sunk.

“Speaking of ships,” the Sorcerer King said. “There are rumours of one that wanders the plains. Have you heard anything about this, Lady Zahradnik?”

“Not that I can recall, Your Majesty. I am probably one of the worst people to ask, however – most of my time is spent focused on my duties rather than frequenting places where tales and rumours collect.”

“I see…at any rate, I had hoped we would have encountered it by now. Since we were close to the centre of the region, there should have been Elder Liches and the like – especially in that mage tower.”

The Red Skeleton Warriors in the city were about as strong as a weak Elder Lich, so Ludmila had expected something like that as well. She stepped over to stand on the Sorcerer King’s left so that she wouldn’t block the view or make him talk to her back when she faced forward again.

“The concentration of negative energy increases the closer we get to the capital,” she looked out over the water, “so the Undead accumulating there should reach higher levels. This means that we have a greater chance of meeting an Elder Lich, yes?”

Lady Shalltear tilted her head curiously.

“The concentration of negative energy?”

“Yes, my lady.”

A long silence stretched out between them. The Sorcerer King cleared his throat.

“I think what Shalltear is asking is how you’ve determined this, Lady Zahradnik. Is it the intangible sense for Undead and Undead-producing locations that all creatures appear to possess?”

“You can’t see it, my lady?”

“No?”

Ludmila leaned forward to look at Lady Shalltear on the other side of the Sorcerer King. She returned Ludmila’s look with a shake of her head.

“But I thought all Undead could sense negative energy as I did,” Ludmila said.

“That is certainly not the case,” His Majesty said. “You mentioned that you ‘see’ it – most do not perceive negative energy in such a direct way unless they’re in the process of being blasted by it.”

“I don’t think I have a proper way to express my perception,” Ludmila replied. “It’s like a sixth sense that ties in with my other senses. Even if I close my eyes, I can perceive it. When combined with my Truesight, it can pierce any attempts to conceal negative energy in the same way as my Talent can pierce illusions and supernatural subterfuge.”

“Do you have some race-specific behaviour related to negative energy: an Ability or a Skill?”

She fell silent, trying to figure out how to describe what she did. How it even worked was something she was still trying to figure out.

“I’m still trying to understand what it is, exactly,” she said. “When I was investigating it in my territory, I found that negative energy is attracted to me.”

“What happens when it reaches you?”

“I think I absorb it,” Ludmila replied. “I can feel the emotions it carries when I do. Sometimes, I react badly to a particularly distasteful patch of negative energy.”

Now that she was thinking about it, her recollection drew forth other details.

“So you’re like a Vampire,” Lady Shalltear said, “except instead of blood, it’s negative energy? This feeling you describe is similar to what I ‘taste’ when I drink blood.”

“Your guess is as good as mine, my lady. Wait…His Majesty said something earlier: that Vampires have an enhanced sense of hearing and smell that helps them track their prey.”

“That’s right,” the Sorcerer King nodded, “what of it?”

“They’re basically…racial traits? Natural tools that help them locate their food. Do Elder Liches have the same Arcane Vision that Your Majesty possesses?”

“Erm, yes,” his voice turned tentative. “It is an ability that all Elder Liches have.”

“It’s said that Elder Liches grow in power by absorbing mana,” she explained. “If you look at it from the same perspective, Arcane Vision is a racial trait that helps them locate their ‘food’.”

It made a sort of sense to her, at least. Her background as a Ranger may have been influencing things, however. All living creatures had the tools to secure their sustenance, so why not Undead?

“So while I’ve been feeding on you,” Lady Shalltear smiled lasciviously, “you’ve been secretly feeding on me? Yet another of your kinky behaviours has come to light.”

“I-it only works on ambient negative energy, that I’ve seen. I don’t hover around the Death Knights in my demesne like some giant negative energy mosquito.”

“So you say,” her liege said teasingly.

Between them, the Sorcerer King cleared his throat.

“Does that mean you’ve been absorbing negative energy since we crossed into the Katze Plains?”

“No, Your Majesty,” Ludmila shook her head. “I can’t say for certain, but it only appears to work in the territories under my control. I was testing out this ability in the E-Rantel Cemetery before Lady Shalltear contacted me about your plans for an excursion. The negative energy there…avoided me. Also…pardon me, Your Majesty.”

Ludmila unequipped her gauntlets. She leaned forward to hold out her palm, trying to present it edgewise to the Sorcerer King.

“I’m not sure if you can see it,” she said. “But this unnatural Katze mist is steeped in negative energy.”

His Majesty leaned forward. Ludmila’s stomach fluttered when she realised how close his face was getting to her hand.

“Hmm…yes, I see it. The mist is moving to barely avoid your hand. That’s quite interesting…so what do you get from feeding on the negative energy in your demesne?”

He leaned back again, and Ludmila quickly withdrew her hand.

“Ambient negative energy isn’t expended when an Undead being manifests from it,” she said, “so a strong enough patch will continue manifesting Undead once in a while. The temples suppress the negative energy in the E-Rantel Cemetery, but, as you know, Undead will still appear there. Nature, however, can counteract the accumulation of negative energy. They say that nature spirits manifest when a natural environment becomes ‘old’ or ‘rich’ enough, and after gaining my ability to perceive negative energy, I think this is true.”

“So something like an abundance of life energy…I believe Pinison – a Dryad that we met in the Great Forest of Tob – manifested in the way that you describe.”

“Yes, Your Majesty. Elementals are also said to manifest the same way – in places abundant with their associated elemental energies. My ability to absorb negative energy removes it from where it was entirely, so you might say that I ‘get’ a cleaner demesne. I don’t know if this also means that life energy will become more abundant in my territory because there’s no negative energy to counteract it. I suppose if nature spirits will start popping up all over the place if I keep things neat and tidy, I’ll know for sure.”

“Instead of a Revenant,” Lady Shalltear quipped, “we should call you a Death Maid instead.”

“Believe it or not, my lady,” Ludmila smirked, “the same thought crossed my mind while I was learning about it.”

“What about personal benefits?” The Sorcerer King asked, “Shalltear, for instance, can use collected blood to fuel metamagic. There’s also her Blood Frenzy…has she mentioned that to you before?”

Rather than a personal benefit, Lady Shalltear considered it a sort of curse. Ludmila had been warned of its existence as a precaution shortly after she started offering Lady Shalltear her blood. If too much blood was spilt on her skin, she would enter a berserk state.

“Yes, Your Majesty. I don’t sense that I can do anything with what I absorb – I’m not even sure where it goes.”

“Hmm…I wonder if there’s a way to find out if you grow like an Elder Lich. Perhaps through the generation of mass amounts of ambient negative energy in your territory…”

“There was a conflict in the upper reaches a few months ago,” she replied. “I got around to cleaning it up recently, but I’m not sure if I gained anything from it.”

The Sorcerer King raised a hand to his chin thoughtfully.

“You say that you can only absorb negative energy in your territory,” he said in musing tones. “Since we’re taking over the Katze Plains, I could grant you some land. Once you’re done cleaning it up, we could exchange it for another uncleansed territory. If it works, it would mean a lot more arable land for the Sorcerous Kingdom.”

“I will make the attempt if you wish, Your Majesty,” Ludmila said. “But something tells me it isn’t as simple as that. If it was, the Sorcerous Kingdom could lease me out to clean up graveyards and old battlefields around the world for a hefty sum.”

A deep chuckle rose from His Majesty’s throat.

“That does sound rather silly when you put it that way,” he said. “I suppose not everything can be so easily investigated. At least you seem to have embraced your role as a custodian of your territory.”

“A Warden.”

“Hm?”

“Some of the Demihumans in my territory seem to understand what I am – or rather, my place in the grand scheme of things. They’ve been calling me the ‘Warden of the Vale’ long before I rose as a Revenant. Dame Verilyn seems to know something about it as well, but–”

Several Wraiths floated over to the bow of the ship, lining up in front of the Sorcerer King. His Majesty nodded several times before their sail was lowered and the skeletal oarsmen worked to slow down the ship. Ludmila walked forward and scanned the surface of the water ahead, but saw nothing out of the ordinary.

“They found something?” She asked.

“Those hazards you were wary of,” the Sorcerer King answered. “The river bottom is littered with the remains of large ships for the next dozen or so kilometres.”

The desperate struggle carved into the silent stone halls of the ancient university rose fresh from her memory. It appeared that they were about to uncover yet another chapter of Katze’s tragic past.