Only six of the initial two dozen warrior-mage squad remain. Quite a few of them met their ends at Seeker’s tip and others fell prey to Lumina’s surprise attack with the walls. A palace that defends its master, I’m rather envious.

But soon it’ll all be mine, this war will not drag on long, not if I can help it, not if I continue to grow in strength. The voice is confident in her ability to make Essence from blood, if she’s right then added with this world’s free taxation, I’ll be skyrocketing to Blood Orange by the end of this battle.

I left the Prince back in the Hallway and made myself the captain of the remaining six warrior-mages with [Minor Illusion]. We charge out to the chaos outside where many of the martial guests have raised weapons and spells against our occupation. Some already swearing vengeance fall their fallen loved ones. In the end it’s all noise.

My future serfs startle at the sight of me, torn dress, bad make up and a pair of three would be enemies trailing behind me. But they know better than to change the face of battle, especially seeing as I’m not attacking them and neither are my thralls.

The elves trade blasts of magic and close up one-on-one battles when they can with Lumina’s aid from the throne room. Chains snatch and wrap up troublesome opponents threading to far up the stairs, spikes snap out at those trying to get ahead with flight, and raised walls trap enemies in two or even four on one situations.

I wasn’t listening when any of this was discussed but I see Lumina’s mind was behind this plan. The Palace is in fact a fortress, as the elves of Hescaria and the Empire never went to war, the Sainid fighters are sorely prepared for combat, especially with much of their weapons confiscated.

It’s already a blood bath leaning in our favour but I walk out there, and capture as many weak minded Sainid fighters with my moving dome. The elves start to get confused but they stay true to their mission and snatch everyone that fails to get in line behind me, worsening the survival rates of the Sainid.

When I arrive at the last step of the stairs I sense Lumina’s eyes burning through me even though I’m nowhere near the throne room. If she could wield telepathy I’m sure she’d be barking anxious orders at me. But she’s not, there’s no one to stop me from reciting the Key the voice has given me.

‘You sure I have enough mana?’ On this world despite my extensive use of magic I’ve yet to reach a point where I can’t compensate with the speedy regeneration.

A man yells out something as he surges with mana. I send Seeker out to stuff his throat.

‘This is more Essence reliant than mana, at least this variant is. You wouldn’t be able to field the cost of the mana reliant variant.’

It’s possibly the longest sentence she’s spoken. A wall snaps up around me and my set of thirty thralls— they all think I’m some leader of theirs— Lumina shields me from a woman with obsidian gauntlets. Her pounding dents the metal sheet protecting me and I know she’ll break through soon so I flood Essence through my arm and lash out through the weaken dents to grab her fists and pull her through. She yelps, beside herself in the agony of having her muscles and skin scrapped off by the sheet metal.

Speaking another language, I’ve yet to master she calls for an ally and I groan annoyed with the fodder. Snapping and ripping her arm off, I dance around the wall and smack her ally in the face with it. He’s quick and responds with a cast of something that has my vision spin, the now one-armed woman lashes out at my chin with her gauntlet, earning the Sainid’s the first spilt demon blood.

‘Enough of this dance. Kill them already and begin the ritual.’

On that I agree. I’ve played around enough. “Wekt. Wekt. Wekt.” I suffer blows as I chant the all too familiar spell and vanish from their eyes. With Seeker in my hand I lurch at the man making the world spin and slash his jaw off.

“Aaggruuhh!” His strangled scream only worsens as I take his knees and break the woman’s legs with my bare hands.

There’s still more guests to feed on and although the voice says the number of mind numbed thralls I have will be enough for the spell, I launch my attack on their fleeing forms anyway.

The weak resistant formation they had in place scatters as I plunge. Invisible and with Seeker I’m a deadly ghost snatching their mobility as I cut through the crowds of would be dignitaries, slashing their knees, breaking their backs and severing spines.

The fighting behind me dies as the last of the Sainid watch the invisible massacre of their fellows and surrender to Lumina’s men.

When I’m done I’m the only being standing in a mass of moaning, groaning and unconscious bleeding bodies. The Elves watch from the stairs, their eyes filled with worry for their enemies.

‘They think me cruel.’ I snort.

I command my thralls forward, resolved to get this done before the mass of mana signatures coming in from the west— the group I’m assuming is the Prince’s personal battalion— falls upon me and what’s left of the elves. If he’s that confident in them and the captain of the guard ranked a strong crimson tier with all that equipment, then I shouldn’t underestimate them either.

‘Are you ready?’

‘Recite it.’

She does and I repeat out loud, trusting in her to guide Essence and mana from within and into the ritual while I act as the physical conduit for it, voicing the action we want to take to reality.

“Reais ud dumen.” Essence flows out of my open Soul Crystal and mana leaks from my fingertips. My thralls return to their senses as I lose focus on the dome but it’s far too late for anyone to do anything.

The mixed substance of Essence and mana leaks into the nostrils of sixty-seven humans, forcing even the crippled and unconscious to their feet and then raising them beyond that.

“Kel mal dul. Usk ndarin.” The voice does her work well, for a consciousness that’s supposedly resided within me all this while. Under her direction I sense Essence snatch and bite at the core mana of each of our raised victims.

It mixes with theirs and as it tunnels out with the stolen mana their chests bulge, ribs creak and crack until it bursts open and sixty-seven beating hearts still tethered to the bodies hangs out in the air.

“Blud vak mal. Reais ud dumen. Usk ndarin!” the air shifts dangerously and the gathered Essence— nearly all of what I can spend— and mana swirls overhead. Blood from the pumping hearts bleeds into it, turning it into a dark orange maelstrom.

My vision blurs and my mouth turns dry as winds billow away around me. There are screams for Lumina from her men, the sacrifices now drained of blood drop to the floor dead at last and I rise in their place.

Flashes of something…someone, a face I’ve seen before. A woman, dirty cheeked and rash with her spatula…a goblin.

I let out a groan as a searing pain threatens to crack my head open. “Ahhh!” Screaming, moaning as my victims did mere moments ago the storm above condenses and I continue to rise.

‘Stop…what is this? No…’

‘It’s too late, Nil. This is what you wanted isn’t it? Power?’

My head feels like it’s tearing open as more flashes of this woman, of this goblin of a village and of a man continue to flood my blurred vision. My thoughts jumble and the rising turns into a great fall. I flop about but feel a tug at my feet. The storm calms with streaks of Essence and mana surges streaking around it. There’s a world in it, beyond the storm— in the storm. I recognize it immediately.

The pull at my feet grows beyond what I can fight with my head being split apart so I sink, Reais the last thing in my vision and the sensation of Essence rejuvenating my dried Soul Crystal, filling it up in beyond Crimson. I’ve reached Blood Orange.

‘We’ve reached Blood Orange, Nil. Take a rest, you’ve worked so hard after all.’

Her voice swallows me up as the dark unknown of my subconscious, the recesses of my own Soul Crystal drowns me. I’d curse her, but she kept her end of the deal and now I know exactly who she is.

I shut my eyes and accept defeat.

***

[!!!]

[Contested Mortal Realm!]

[Minor Connection— Nil]

[Greater Connection— Nil]

[Ire-Reais 616 Friction— 21%] [1st Ripple in…50 years...]

The air is filled with mana, Essence and blood. My first breath in thousands of years brings a smile to my lips. My first sight none other than the bodies of those sacrificed for my rebirth. I should honour them, but there’s such little time as fools campaign against me.

The Prince’s battalion descends. Five hundred armed and armoured warrior-mages mounted on battle beasts the likes of Dire wolves, vicious salamanders and even griffons.

I figure since these are just the mounted fighters there’s still some of the battalion incoming. The most powerful sits on a brilliant Griffin, wings as wing as some Dire wolves even. He glowers down at me, bathed in the blood, mana and strength of his fellows. His eyes flicker to the Palace and he wastes little time ordering a charge.

The Seeker Blade whispers away, snatching toes off the mounts while I feed into the fun of mana surging within me for the first time in thousands of years, “[Raise Undead]!”

The pile of bodies around me jerk, their bones crack and twist as skin darkens and faces contort at the necrotic force raising them to undeath. Soon I have a personal wall of human shields. Although I’ve ascended to Blood Orange tier, I’m not as eager as Nil to rush into the battle personally, not when magic will suffice well enough.

Though I retreat to the stairs at speed their leader beats me there. Lumina’s spikes do little against strong bred Griffin bones and flesh, even less against the man armour. He leaps off his mount, spearhead sinking toward my head.

I smack it aside and slap him aside with an Essence infused punch. He doesn’t relent and charms himself to continue his charge. Annoyed I decide then to end him, my wall of undead won’t last long against enemies of this calibre, especially when I have so little.

I zip towards him and he matches me with a short blade from his hip, he slashes against my fingernails but I lash out with magic, “[Death Grip]!” A green spectre of my hand latches onto his neck and squeezes as I squeeze, necrotic mana takes his skin fast, eating through his magical defences as I fuel the spell with mana he cannot endure.

He lashes out with a ring, slapping me in the face with a startling bolt of lightning materialized from his ring. The momentary distraction undoes my spell and forces me to a knee. Behind me my undead are trampled and the rest of the battalion moves to aid their leader.

It’s a little too late for that though. The necrotic effects of my spell have eaten through his throat, he can’t breath and he can’t swallow the pitiful potion he’s struggling for.

Crushing his head beneath my feet, I turn to face his battalion, a new spell ready, “[Blood Surge]!” Before anyone can think to attack, blood from the mounts, from the warrior-mages surges out over head, pooling into a large crimson ball of blood.

All the work I sent Seeker off to do hasn’t gone to waste. The fools try to pounce at me with their mounts and their magic but the new found speed of a Blood Orange tier and my personal buffs keep their attacks away.

Twenty mages coordinate attacks at me with seventeen warriors receiving buffs. I outclass them by a lot, but they’ve found their footing quick as well. A Warhammer comes down where I stood a second ago and daggers anticipate my next position. I parry and multi-cast [Cobble Shield] as torrents of fire and bolts of lightning strike at me.

I’m running out of mana, but the ball of blood isn’t satisfactory yet. A woman slashes at what’s left of Nil’s dress and I stab my hand through her head. It’s slow, and progressive but I’m being worn out. Their mounts and some of their mages have fallen to [Blood Surge] already and while I could cast another round of [Raise Undead], I want enough blood to make this a final attack.

Twins roar towards me, chains linked together they circle around me mouthing words…carnal words.

‘Guess the Princes Battalion aren’t slouches, they’ve figured me out!’

I wanted to wait a bit longer and take them all out before they overwhelm Lumina in the Palace, she can only have so much mana to spend controlling attacks all over the large monument. But they’ve forced my hand, I can’t let them banish me, not now.

“Sorry boys, I leave when I’m due. [Blood Shower]!”

The large ball of blood bulges then splinters off into several thin, sharp and deadly shards. It rains blood.

The twins falter at the sight of their main groups torn apart by the rain. I dash towards one and break his arm and pull his brother into my grip before either can scream. “It could have been worse.” I tell them, their magic falters and their resolve dies, “It could have been acid rain.”

My mana is spent. I curse Nil for focusing so little on magic and snap their necks. Still, Nil didn’t do so bad, wouldn’t have won this without the basis Nil provided.

The battalion still lives. Around two hundred more— the rear flank waiting for the three-hundred they sent to win the Palace— but they aren’t moving, they’re full of panic, fear and cowardice. Maybe I was wrong, Princes battalion is a bunch of cowards.

I chuckle to myself and wipe the blood off my eyelid.

“Nil!” A voice roars out from the Palace. I turn and find Lumina marching out with the Prince at her side, his horror is plain as day. She must have let him in, shown him my…our performance.

“Lumina, Queen of Hescaria, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” I say, bloody hand extended.

She frowns at my hand, at my smile then shakes her head, “You…you’re not Nil.”

My smile remains but I let my hand drop as I stare out to the remaining soldiers of the Princes battalion, “Should I clean them up? Hmm, I’d like to perform that ritual again, if only for Seeker here, I’m sure Nil would love to see him in Tier two again.”

Lumina shakes her head. She starts to say something but I lay a hand on her cheek, staining it with blood as I trace a thumb across her lips, “No, I’m not Nil. Nil is…indisposed at the moment, but I’m much better, aren’t I?”

“Who are you?” she manages not to stammer.

“Nil wanted to know that too, but Nil’s always known…I am King.”