The First Lich Lord
Chapter 113

“You’ll are early,” I grumbled at the group as they stood in the entrance to the forge. “You do realize if you kill me, you run the risk of this dungeon being destroyed.”

“I don’t know if that would be a huge loss,” the paladin chuckled. “I gotta be honest, while this is an awfully cool dungeon, there isn’t a lot that people are gaining from it. You’re a very interesting boss indeed, so it would be a shame to lose you, but the secrets you hinted at with our guild leader mean that we’re here digging for that more than anything else.”

“Well, I might have something that will change your mind.” I produced a Warhammer whose head had been made out of the thick skull of a bear-like creature Vito had sent up for me to fight. Raven had contacted him rather easily, though it had taken her a couple of days to get to him. She hadn’t encountered anything dangerous, finding evidence of Vito wiping out everything previously within the region.

Vito already had undead minions working for him, and had used them to corral the underground bear-like creature toward the dungeon for the three of us to fight. Along with that, he had sent some materials for me to use in the forge.

“And what might that be?” the paladin asked suspiciously.

“Obviously it’s a weapon, silly,” I said sarcastically. “That forge behind me allows me to create very powerful death and eldritch magic-based weapons. I’m planning on hiding some of the weaker ones I create throughout the dungeon as drops and beating the guardian of this floor will yield a much more powerful weapon.”

“Or we could just beat you and take it,” the fighter suggested. I could see the hammerhead caught his attention.

“Maybe,” I agreed. I pulled out my bag of holding and dropped the hammer into it. “You have any idea how much I have in here? The odds of you getting that hammer are tiny. After all, I’m a Lich, killing me might destroy the dungeon, but my soul is going someplace else.”

“What is this guardian then?” the female fire wizard asked. “I take it the whole point is for us to face it instead of you to avoid you dying again.”

“You’ve already met it.” I smiled, the mostly intact muscles across my face stretching in something I doubted was pleasant to look at. “But that can wait for now.”

“I’m not sure Olattee will be thrilled by us farming this place for death weapons.” Her words said that she thought it was a bad idea, but the paladin’s tone spoke of something else. Though she could likely not use the weapons, not without a lot of magic involved, her friends could.

“What more do you want?” I demanded.

“How about clues about the secrets you mentioned?” the paladin suggested.

“This is strange. We’re negotiating with the dungeon boss for what the loot table will be,” the female who wielded the heavy crossbow said, her eyes darting around, no doubt looking for Raven.

I doubted they would find her. Maxwell and Raven were on the floor waiting to back me up if needed, but they were hidden behind the pillars farther back.

“I can make that work,” I agreed with the paladin. I didn’t actually have any secrets about Olattee, but perhaps I could use it to my benefit.

“One suggestion, friend,” the fighter chimed in. “Maybe move this fight up a floor and make this a hidden area. Not everyone will be satisfied with this result. There are some pretty hard-core blowhards up there.”

I locked gazes with the paladin. I did have eyeballs. As my body had developed, the orbs that burned inside my sockets had taken on more details and were less like specs of purple fire. “I think you have one of those blowhards with your group.”

To my surprise, the paladin flushed slightly. “Not really. I just was screwing around.”

“So you’re all just going to ignore my comment about this being strange?” the crossbow wielder said.

“No, it’s strange alright,” I said. “I can only imagine what it’s like from your perspective. If back in the day I’d had this happen to me, I’m not quite sure how I would’ve taken it.”

“I’m still not sure,” the paladin said, squinting at me. “Olattee really wants you dead and gone.”

“Will Olattee ever just leave me the fuck alone?” I quietly grumbled. “I’ll tell you what. If I get a binding oath from each of you that you will not cause me nor my companions harm, I will give you access to a hidden floor and information about a secret no one else has ever found. That hidden floor is an archive from an age passed that I have hardly begun to explore. Every time you make it past Chompy, you will get four hours in there. However, you will be bound to keep the archives and what you learn there a secret, along with not using any magic unless you talk with me first.”

The paladin considered my offer, then the group talked quietly. “One question, why do we have to keep the information a secret? I don’t like needing your permission.”

I sighed. “This isn’t something that can be negotiated. I don’t know everything in that archive, but what I do know about the nation that came before is that they make me look like a ray of sunshine. I will not be party to releasing an evil back on to this world because you were too foolish to either keep what you learned to yourself or, the gods forbid, use some horrifying ritual you found down there to sacrifice a kingdom or something equally as terrible.”

“Who the fuck built this place?” the paladin whispered.

“Some crazy Blood Sultanate called Slatar,” Maxwell said, coming out from his hiding spot. It was clear we were going to make a deal. “Trust me, Zeke isn’t going to be heavy-handed. I don’t blame him for wanting to control what information gets out there. The small amount of reading I’ve done from some of the translated stuff is enough for me to never want to learn more. Oh, and because he forgot, you also get a translation dictionary.”

I nodded and the paladin met my gaze and smiled wide like she’d just won some major deal. Little did she know that I didn’t really care. In fact, them combing through the archives was like doing research for me, because I would have ears listening in to see if they found anything I needed to know.

“It’s a deal. Now where’s this boss?” the paladin asked.

I activated a ritual by pressing a button with the butt of Mercy. In the two and a half weeks that had passed I made modifications, this was still the only party who had made it to me, but I doubted that would last forever.

The floor opened like an iris in a wide circle and a platform raised. Sitting in the middle of it was the flesh horror—a modified, upgraded version. Without a doubt he was now quite a bit more powerful than I was, but in the process of upgrading it, I’d infused just enough soul energy that I tied it tightly to the dungeon. The result was that my control over it solidified, while it gained more freedom inside the dungeon itself. It was almost more like a partner now.

The party gasped, and I didn’t blame them.

I’d merged the hungry horror with my two turrets and added another set of legs and armor plating made from black bone around the joints. It was now the size of an elephant, though shorter.

“Meet Chompy,” I said. “I’ll even read you the description.”

The confusion over me reading a description was immediately clear. I just smiled. It was all part of the plan.

Chompy

Greater Undead Eldritch Abomination

Level: 105

Originally Created by: Ezekiel Vernizac

This was once a simple flesh golem construct created by a Lich. It was given the ability to consume its prey and grow in strength by absorbing the death cores along with their bio matter. Its power began to outstrip its creator, and in order to lessen the threat of rebellion from his creation, the Lich bound his creation to this dungeon.

Now more powerful than its original creator, this creature is the final boss of this dungeon. Defeating it will result in a powerful weapon gifted to the victors by the Lich, forged on the Deathforge of the Eldritch Tranquil Soul.

It has a ravenous hunger that drives it to consume all it can. Its claws leave behind a deadly poison, and it has been further modified with heavy armor plates and powerful auto turrets.

I left out the parts about its weaknesses and strengths, along with what the poison could do. No point in ruining all the surprises.

“Before you have your fun, can I get your names and oaths? I don’t want you dying and not being bound by the oath,” I asked in a jovial tone—I’d gotten everything I wanted. “As you know, my name is Ezekiel, you met Raven, she’s the werecat, and then there’s Maxwell, I’m sure you’ll come across him more later.”

“I’m Ezra,” the paladin said.

“I’m Tucker,” the fighter said.

“I’m Tiffany,” the wizard said.

“I am Scott,” the mage said.

“And I’m Susan,” the sniper said.

I got each of their oaths—an ability that actually bound someone to follow the agreement. It was both a function of the game mechanics and something NPCs could do if they had access to soul energy. They weren’t done very often, because it often implied a level of distrust. Which was fine in this situation, since neither side had any reason to trust each other.

“Wait, you owe us another secret about this place,” Ezra said.

“I guess you’ll just have to ask me about that if you survive.” I turned my back and walked away, giving a mental order to Chompy.

I didn’t watch the fight, heading back to my forge to resume the project I’d left there. Maxwell and Raven stayed to watch, though they wouldn’t interfere. Chompy was also receiving several bonuses from the dungeon due to its status as a boss.

Raven was taking notes about ways I could improve Chompy, after all, he was to be my primary stand in and as the guardian, and I wanted him to be as hard to kill as possible. If he died, it would take energy to bring him back, quite a bit of both dungeon energy and my own power. But he was worth it.

The battle was brutal, and flashes of magic and explosions constantly lit up the hall. I glanced over at one point and could see the bulk of Chompy had taken quite a beating. His turrets were broken off, and two legs no longer worked. I couldn’t see what was going on with the players though, so I went back to work.

Forging with rituals is similar to using regular forging skills. I had a specialized hammer covered in glyphs, a set of high precision chisels made of bone, and several other smithing tools for working the forge.

The sounds of battle finally died down, and Maxwell and Raven left shortly after. I was near complete with the dagger I was working on, so I stayed focused on that. It wasn’t anything incredible, but it would pack a punch. Labored breaths came from behind me, and I looked over to see the fighter staggering up the last set of stairs. The power of the forge was clearly weighing on him, along with several nasty wounds that seeped black fluid.

“I’ll be with you in a moment, don’t die,” I said, refocusing on my dagger.

By the time I was finished, the fighter was on death’s door. Deciding to show a little mercy, I shrouded him in a protection that warded off the power of the forge. I also moved from wound to wound and either pulled out the magic, or destroyed the flesh still infected so it would no longer spread. I then fed him a health potion. “Sorry for the delay, it’s hard to stop when you’re working with a ritual forge.”

Tucker took a moment to gather his wits as the pain faded, though admittedly the pain was less for him than it would’ve been for an NPC due to the interference of the game systems. “That thing was a lot stronger than last time,” Tucker grumbled. “If you had been in the fight, we would’ve never won.”

“I know,” I assured him, sitting down on the steps next to him. “But that isn’t my goal. I mostly want to be left alone to grow in power and practice my own craft.”

“You are the strangest dungeon boss,” Tucker said.

“I’m likely the only dungeon boss, if you can even call me that, of my kind.”

“No, there are plenty of Lichs as dungeon bosses,” Tucker said.

“That’s not what I mean,” I said as I produced the hammer. “This particular one, I don’t know how useful it will be in this ziggurat since it’s death-based, but if you ever get an eldritch one from me, it will be a little bit more useful. Eldritch is just trickier to work with.”

Tucker took the hammer and read over its stats. I’ll be honest, I don’t remember what they were, that was merely one of many weapons I created on that forge.

“Regardless, this is a very impressive weapon,” Tucker said as he slipped it into his own spatial storage device. “I might just sell it. But uh, what do you mean that wasn’t what you meant?”

“If you ever get a weapon for me that you want soul bound, I can make that a stronger bond than you could normally do,” I said before pausing, trying to debate if or how I could answer his question.

“You are definitely different than any other Lich I’ve heard of.”

“There is a very good reason for that,” I said. “In all honesty, I don’t think you’ll believe me if I tell you, but let’s just say I’m neither NPC, immortal, or a bound soul.” Bound soul is the term NPCs often used for players, and Immortals referred to a very special group of players. “If you don’t mind, I don’t want to send you down to the archive just yet. I need to make some changes first. Just to protect my sanctuary a little bit. I know the oath makes it so I can trust you. But still, it is my home.”

“That’s fine, I don’t want to do research on my own anyways. Thanks for the healing potion.” He stood and began to leave, but then stopped. “What was the other secret?”

“I was wondering if you’d remember,” I chuckled. “Let’s put it this way, there’s a hidden sanctuary floor between the sixth and seventh floors. Where the stairs are on the outside. I warn you, the boss protecting that and keeping it is more powerful than Chompy when within the sanctuary.” In order to protect sanctuary floors dungeons often allowed for the guardians for that floor to be massively amplified when upon that floor.

“Cool,” Tucker smiled. “We’ll make sure we find that.”

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