Lich for Hire-Chapter 63: Mortal Might
In a broad, open clearing, three hundred mortals, well fed and well rested after several days, were chanting hymns in loud voices as they praised the Lord of Dawn.
As they reached the line, "willing to give my all for the purification of evil," a faint holy radiance seeped from their bodies, then gathered into many humanoid figures formed entirely of light.
Some of these figures shone brilliantly, vivid and lifelike; others were dim and indistinct.
Without exception, all of them had grasped the power of holy light, and they had done so in only three days.
The price, however, soon became apparent. As the light condensed, many of the commoners' hair began to turn white, and fine wrinkles appeared on their faces.
Watching the scene unfold, Starfall nodded in satisfaction.
This was the true purpose of those three hundred commoners: to trade away their lifespan in exchange for summoning Celestial Guardians, transforming from frail, powerless commoners into formidable warriors.
Ordinary people could never become competent fighters in just a few days unless they paid an enormous price.
Starfall possessed a certain magical artifact, the Crown of Faith, on loan from the Lyon Empire. An imitation of the Crown of Dawn, it was capable of condensing faith to open a conduit to the Celestial Realm and draw upon the power of holy light.
The three hundred had not disappointed him. After hearing of the doctrines of the Lord of Dawn, they had all become believers. They might not yet be fervent devotees, but the Lord of Dawn responded to their prayers with holy light. That was proof enough.
Lack of faith and training was inconsequential. Life force was a far more potent sacrifice for calling upon holy light and performing miracles.
Starfall had shown them how to summon Celestial Guardians.
Roughly ten years of lifespan could sustain a Celestial Guardian for twenty minutes of battle.
Each Guardian was a battle-hardened elite forged entirely from holy light. They were immune to most low-tier magic, had no vital weak points, were fearless in combat, and, most importantly, were capable of suppressing the vast majority of undead.
Starfall had been completely transparent about the side effects of this method.
After all, to activate this ersatz artifact, the sacrifice had to be entirely voluntary. Brainwashing through magic or coercion was useless.
The Lord of Dawn rejected human sacrifice, but did not reject self-sacrifice.
These mortals all understood the consequences of their actions. But how much was ten years of life worth, really? A person who ate well and lived warmly might live to sixty. A serf, or a peasant under these lords, had an average lifespan of barely thirty.
To trade away a life that was never truly theirs in exchange for a brighter future—what was wrong with that?
That was why Starfall had taken only the young and the strong. Those who were too old simply had no lifespan left to offer; they would die outright during training.
"Open your minds and merge your will with that of the Celestial Guardians," Starfall instructed sternly. "You will be able to command the techniques they have honed through countless battles. Remember: every second you spend here is paid for with your life. Any hesitation wastes your sacrifice and lowers your chance of survival. If you want to live, if you want to become human again in truth, then give me everything you have."
He guided them meticulously, teaching them how to control the projections of the Celestial Guardians without wasting a single second.
Under his commands, the hundreds of hazy figures began executing tactical maneuvers. In less than a minute, their clumsy motions grew fluid. They had quickly gained a semblance of control.
On Starfall's order, the Celestial Guardians fused together into a single being: a ten-meter-tall giant of light.
It swung a massive white-gold greatsword through the air. Holy radiance erupted from it like a colossal cannon blast, cleaving a hundred-meter-long fissure into the ground.
Though it possessed only a single strike's worth of power, the holy giant would be more than enough to deal with the masses of annoying low-tier undead—skeletons, zombies, and the like. No matter how many appeared, they would be nothing but fodder.
If the lich were weaker than expected, the giant might even be able to split open the gates of the castle outright, allowing Starfall and the others to storm inside.
The only problem lay with the two adventurers sent to scout the castle. They had never returned, and were likely already dead.
"Tomorrow at noon, we begin our assault on the undead castle," Starfall declared. "Victory will be decided then. Don't worry. I'll charge in alongside you."
He dismissed everyone. Once they had all departed, a paladin stepped up beside him. "Captain," the man said quietly, "that boy, Geronimo, has exceptional talent. Should we send him back alone?"
The implication was clear: spare Geronimo from the battle and send him to Lyon for proper training. With his aptitude, he could become a full paladin soon enough, one who didn't need to resort to self-sacrifice to wield holy light.
Starfall knew that his companion's suggestion made sense. Geronimo possessed genuine talent. His mastery over the holy light far exceeded that of ordinary men. He expended less life, and the Celestial Guardian he summoned was stronger.
Yet Starfall shook his head. "No. Remove even one person, and the others' chance of survival drops. I promised them the right to fight for their future. I won't exempt Geronimo simply because he's gifted. Humanity deserves to stand equally beneath the holy light. But if that boy survives..." A faint smile crossed his face. "I'll train him myself and make him a member of the Knights Penitent."
He straightened. "Now rest well. Tomorrow at noon, we launch our first assault. I intend to end that lich in a single charge."
Starfall led everyone back to Alkhemia, sending the others to rest while he made his way once more to the Iron Slag tavern.
Tomorrow would be his first time leading a crusade against a legendary undead. Though he had done everything possible to secure victory, the eve of battle still left him uneasy.
He needed a drink—and perhaps to gather a bit more information. There might still be something useful to learn.
Wandering once more down South Cross Street, Starfall noticed more pedestrians than before. Many, however, were non-human, and the looks they cast at him were openly hostile.
He was long accustomed to such gazes. He ignored them and stepped into the tavern.
Business was indeed livelier tonight. Though the place was half full, it was strangely quiet, as though all the patrons were burdened with their own worries.
Starfall thought little of it. In recent days, he had seen too many troubled faces in Alkhemia. Hard times bred grim expressions.
He approached the bar and said to the orc bartender, "The usual. Two glasses of rum."
He had been coming here almost daily and was fairly familiar with the bartender by now. Though he still disliked the man's race, Starfall had at least learned to keep the disdain out of his voice, a rare feat.
The orc poured him a glass and asked casually, "Just you again today? Why not bring more people to support the business? Heard you bought a few hundred slaves."
Starfall laughed. "This dump's way too overpriced. I can afford it myself, but I'd have to pawn my armor to buy drinks for three hundred."
The orc wiped bottles clean and lined them up on the counter, replying indifferently, "Then at least bring your fellow paladins. Always drinking alone is pretty stingy for a boss, no?"
He topped off Starfall's glass as he spoke.
"They're busy today," Starfall replied, draining the rum again. "But maybe we'll drink properly tomorrow. Why's it so crowded, anyway? Got a discount going on?"
The orc sighed instead of answering. He looked at Starfall and said quietly, "Bosses shouldn't be too stingy. When something unexpected happens... there might be no one left to save you."
A sudden sense of alarm flared in Starfall's mind. Before he could react, dizziness washed over him. This wasn't good. Those two glasses of rum had to be poisoned!
