Against A Lich (1)

They came before me like a tidal wave. A tsunami of darkness that choked the land with blight and death. The very grass they charged upon wilted and died at each step they took, tainting the ground with their dark essence. 

As I approached them without fear, they seemed to waver. Their charge came to a slow, then a complete halt. There was an army of them. Thousands of animated skeletons and writhing shadows, clad in either crude bronze and leather or formidable steel. They brandished with them swords and spears and shields and bows and arrows. 

A maelstrom of dark magic swirled from within their gathered ranks, inching ever closer to the front. 

The sky above my head had grown dark, choked by the black clouds that followed in the wake of this undead army. An army of darkness would never stand the blazing light of the sun, lest they allowed the brightest star to burn them away.

Thus the army hid underneath the shadows of dark clouds, relying on their shade and refuge to prosper and march during the day. 

I stood before this gathered army, watching as they parted in the middle to reveal their leader. A tall lich. He reeked of dark power. 

He hovered over the ground, spreading further rot from underneath his shadow as he floated in the air towards the front. He glided to a stop in front of his army and beheld me with red, glowing eyes. The lich had but a skeletal face, marked by gash and speckles of rotted flesh.

The lich was not the necromancer I sought, but he was definitely a subordinate of them. He was not powerful enough to cast the spells I had detected to be at play here, cast from far away and nearby. 

A spell blotted out the sun, summoning clouds from nothing. Another enhanced the army of undead, making them glow blue and purple. The other simply allowed someone to watch the battle unfold from far away, using a mirror as a medium of display.

Once again, this was but another test it seemed. The vampires did not work, and so they sent an army. This army came from the west, charging unseen until they were at a distance I could no longer ignore. Somehow they had slipped through the western mountains, avoided several castles and fortresses, and went straight for me.

Or maybe they had a base somewhere. Inside some hills? Between the nearby forests? Or maybe there was teleportation magic involved? After all, if I could do it, others could and would. Teleporting an entire army kilometers away would not be unheard of. 

Using my enhanced senses, I gouged their numbers and revealed their hidden forces. There were ten thousand of them. To my surprise, they had a hundred black drakes flying in the sky, hidden within the black clouds. Ghoulish riders atop reanimated reptilian mounts laid hidden within the now gray woodlands. Most of all, they had undead mages behind their ranks, each comparable to a level 6 to 7 magic caster.

A formidable force, to be sure, but nothing I could not handle with ease.

But was this not a significant force to lay bare against someone like me? What was their goal? Invite me for an audience again? 

That would just result in them having one less army to use. 

"Impressed?" The lich spoke in a deep, raspy voice. He rose up further into the air, as if trying to assert himself as a creature whose position was above and beyond me.

I glared at the lich, my hands brimming blue as I mustered a spell, "I have seen far greater armies of the dead march against me in the past. They had mighty black dragons at their beck and call, lumbering ogres and giants that split the land, and most of all, they numbered in the hundreds of thousands."

A flaming sword of blue and mist spiraled itself into existence in my hand, bristling with my magic and power. "You lead nothing but a pale imitation."

The lich simply scoffed at my words, unmoved by my apparent attempt at provocation, "I know what you really are, Lance Viduri. You are a powerful being, blessed with power beyond reckoning. It is because of that your death is inevitable. Either by my hand or my masters'."

I stood there, amused. The lich and his master were under the delusion that they had a chance at killing me. 

It was time that I shattered it. 

"Your master, whoever they are, will kneel before me like cowering dogs. Once they do, I will end their miserable existence the same way I ended the very gods this world once had."

The lich bellowed a laugh.

"You KILLED the gods? What a sorry fool you are then. Madness had taken over your pathetic mind. Can you not distinguish your dreams from reality? The gods vanished long ago, leaving this mortal plane behind and entrusting their beloved servants to continue on their stead."

Dark magic gathered around the lich's boney palms, swirling into a violet vortex of power.

"My masters and I represent the powers of darkness, the inevitable end of all things. The shadows will inevitably consume this world and leave nothing alive. There shall only be the moons, the dead, and our dominion."

The lich rose further into the air, hovering near the lowest clouds. He pointed his palms at me and readied his spell.

From the looks of it, it was a vortex attack. A stream of potent dark magic would spew forth from his palms, funneling itself into a vortex of dark energy that would melt everything and anything in its path. 

Such a destructive spell could wipe out an entire section of a magically defenseless army. But I was not an army.

I was but one man.

One man who stood defiant all those thousands of years ago against the light.

Now here I was, standing defiant against the resurgent darkness threatening to drown the world once more. Be they the abyss, the underworld, or the heavens, it seemed like I had no shortage of otherworldly powers to consider as my foes. 

Gripping my sword tightly, I held it near my ear and pointed forwards with bent knees. Glaring, I awaited the lich's first move. 

The drakes would swoop in after the spell was cast, after which the skeletons and wraiths would renew their charge and try to swarm me. The ghoulish riders would come thundering from the flanks. Spells would be cast and flung against me in an attempt to overwhelm my position. I could already see how this battle would turn out. 

And I would let it play, just for a little bit. 

After all, I wondered what kind of new spells these creatures of darkness had come up with. Would they surprise me with new kinds of magic? Or will they simply use the ancient spells of their predecessors? 

As the air around us grew tense and timed seemed to pause and still, I closed my eyes and held a breath.

In the blackness of my mind, I found myself feeling the cool air against my bare skin, the shadow of gloom that lingered above, and the flow of magic in the atmosphere, both pure and dark. There was peace to be had, even in these circumstances.

But it was an uneasy peace. Peace that was wrought upon by the silence of death, not by the loudness of nature. A peace that should not be, should never be, and will never be. There was nothing beautiful about the monotone order of the universe, but there was beauty in the chaos of life.

When I opened my eyes, I let go of my breath. So to did the lich let go of his spell. 

A purple vortex of magic spiraled from his hands and towards me, bringing with it destruction and malice. I stood, unflinching and unmoving, allowing the spell to take me in all its dreadful power. 

The ground underneath my feet melted as the spell consumed and destroyed. The air grew thin as even the atmosphere itself was consumed by the might of the spell. 

But even as the ground before and around me gave way and faltered, I did not.

I remained standing inside the pit that formed from underneath my feet, the strength of my barrier withstanding the destructive power of dark magic. It withstood the vortex, flickering ever so violently as the spell tried its hardest to consume me.

Then the spell weakened, before finally ceasing. I found myself into a crater several meters wide and deep. Though the land was wounded, I was untouched.

The lich hovered there, silent and watching. There were no expressions to be seen on his skeletal face, but I could feel that he was annoyed. An undead creature, surprised at the defiance of the living against his supposed might.

"So you are stronger than meets the eye, magic caster," The lich said as his spell waned and ceased, "Or should I say, powerful hermit? I doubt you even care what titles you even bare. None are completely"

The sword in my hand screamed at me to lunge. It yearned to vanquish the undead that were deliciously waiting for their demise in front of me. I urged it to calm with my mind, walking forward as I did.

"My titles are many. But they matter little in this era." A strong gust of wind blew, messing my hair. My sword flickered with flame, smoking blue and true. My sword slew the gods, and it would easily slay this puny army of undead.

But that didn't mean they were, in any way, defenseless against me. They could employ clever strategies, such as the one I thought the lich would enact with the spell, given it was the most likely and effective plan I could think of if I was in his situation. 

And yet he made no move afterwards.

I had expected the black drakes to fly down and attack me, with the undead army resuming their charge, but the lich seemed to have been confident that his spell was enough to defeat me. 

Not only did he find out that he was wrong, but now he had lost most of his advantage. Or so I assumed he thought that way.

I was giving my enemy too much credit, overestimating their ability. But, as experience had shown me, overestimating the enemy came with its merits. It often did better than to underestimate your foe. Many a great warrior, wizard, mage, and even deities were defeated by those they mistakenly viewed as inferior and weak. 

A leader of darkness would think that they held mastery over shadow and death, therefore making them superior to the light. 

But for there to be shadow and darkness, there must be light. 

Who was truly inferior then?