Chapter 5 – The Lich’s Domain

Aldric moved through Whitebridge's ruined streets, his breathing slightly even but his body aching. The battle against the Forgotten King had left its marks in his body. He wasn't injured—not badly, at least—but fatigue pressed against him like a weight, slowing his muscles, making every step feel heavier and heavier than it should.

The cursed greatsword King's End rested across his back, its presence a strange comfort. The weapon had whispered to him when he first grasped it—an echo of the fallen king's rage—but now it was silent, as if waiting for something.

Much like the city itself.

Whitebridge was dead, but the silence that filled its streets wasn't natural.

It was a waiting silence.

Aldric had seen battlefields after the fighting had ended, had walked through towns gutted by war. There had always been something left behind—the distant cries of survivors, the scent of lingering fire, the rustle of scavengers picking over the dead.

Here, there was nothing.

Just ruins and corpses.

And yet, he felt watched every time.

He ignored the instinct to draw his sword immediately. Not yet. His heartbeat remained steady, his pace slow but purposeful. If something was waiting for him in these ruins, it was better to let it believe he hadn't noticed it yet.

His boots crunched over shattered stone as he passed a collapsed building, its broken walls still bearing the burnt remnants of noble banners.

A kingdom's past, burned away.

The thought sent a slow, simmering rage through his chest.

The Everthorne name had been erased.

Whitebridge had suffered a different kind of erasure—not just destruction, but something else entirely.

Aldric kept walking, his senses open to everything around him.

And that's when he heard it.

A whisper.

Aldric stayed still without making any sound.

The sound had been faint, barely more than the wind shifting through the ruins. But there was a cadence to it. A voice.

He turned his head slightly, his eyes narrowing.

The whisper came again.

Not words—not yet. Just a breath of sound, curling through the air, carrying with it a sensation Aldric couldn't quite name.

Something old. Something wrong.

His grip tightened around his sword.

And then the bodies began to move.

At first, it was just a flicker of motion in the corner of his vision.

A corpse, slumped against a broken wall, shifted ever so slightly—a twitch of rotted fingers, a slow, unnatural tilting of the head.

Then another. And another.

Aldric exhaled slowly.

So. That's how it is.

The street before him, littered with what had seemed like lifeless bodies, was no longer still. Limbs jerked, heads snapped upward, and hollow eyes—glowing faintly with sickly green light—locked onto him.

Not ghouls. Something else.

Aldric drew his blade in one fluid motion, the weight of King's End settling comfortably in his hands.

The nearest corpse let out a low, rattling breath and lunged.

Aldric met it head-on.

Steel tore through rotting flesh as his greatsword cut a vicious arc through the air. The creature didn't even have time to scream—its torso split apart, blackened blood spilling onto the stone.

Another attacked from the side.

Aldric turned, twisting his grip, and drove the hilt of his sword into its skull. Bone cracked, and the corpse crumpled.

More were coming.

Aldric stepped backward, his stance shifting into something more defensive as the undead began to rise in full.

There were too many.

And then—

A deep laugh echoed through the ruins.

Not from the corpses.

Something else was here.

Watching. Waiting.

Aldric's grip tightened around his sword.

And then the Lich stepped forward.

Aldric's grip tightened around his sword as the figure emerged from the shadows of the ruined great hall.

The air around it thickened, charged with something far worse than simple undeath.

The creature was tall, its skeletal form wrapped in rotting ceremonial robes, frayed at the edges but still bearing traces of gold embroidery—the markings of a sorcerer who had once wielded power among the living.

Now, it was something else entirely.

A Lich.

Its hollow eyes burned with cold blue fire, and in its bony grip, it held a twisted black staff, its surface writhing with eerie runes.

Aldric didn't move.

Not out of fear. Out of calculation.

He had read about them in war chronicles—mages who had embraced undeath, sacrificing their humanity for eternal power. Unlike ghouls, a Lich still had a mind and could think.

And this one… was watching him.

The silence stretched between them before the Lich finally spoke.

Its voice was like dry bones scraping together, hollow yet strangely amused.

"You are not one of mine."

Aldric exhaled, slow and controlled. His heartbeat remained steady.

"No." His tone was level. "And you are in my way."

The Lich chuckled, the sound crawling through the ruined streets like whispering insects.

"How bold." It tilted its head, studying him. "And yet… I see it in you. The Abyss has touched you."

Aldric's pulse quickened.

It knew. It didn't just sense his presence—it recognized the Abyss within him.

The Lich lifted a skeletal hand, tracing a slow arc in the air.

"Not truly living. Not fully dead. A remnant of something forgotten."

Aldric's jaw clenched. Enough talking.

He shifted his stance, taking a single step forward.

The Lich's grin widened.

"Ah. You are here for some fun."

The ruins stirred. From the broken streets and shattered buildings, shadows began to move. Bodies rose from the debris, but these were not like the ghouls Aldric had fought before.

Their armor, though rusted, still clung to their bodies. Their movements were too fluid, their eyes glowing with an unnatural light.

Wights.

They were faster. Stronger. Smarter.

Fallen warriors, still bound to their master's will.

Aldric's grip tightened on King's End.

The Lich raised its staff.

"Let the dead test your worth, revenant."

The Wights attacked.

Aldric moved first.

The moment the first Wight lunged, he sidestepped, twisting his body as its rusted sword sliced through empty air.

In the same motion, he brought his greatsword down in a brutal arc.

Steel met bone. And slashed through the bone.

The Wight collapsed, its skull cleaved in two.

But before Aldric could regain his stance, another was already attacking.

He ducked, barely avoiding a sword aimed at his throat. He twisted, bringing King's End up in a sharp counterstrike—

Clang!

The Wight blocked him.

Aldric's eyes narrowed.

These things weren't mindless. They still remembered how to fight.

A third Wight lunged from his blind spot. Aldric barely had time to avoid before a blade sliced across his ribs.

A shallow cut. Not deep—but enough to send a flash of pain through his body.

Aldric gritted his teeth.

They were pressing him.

They moved with discipline, attacking in sync, pushing him toward the ruined fountain at the center of the square.

A cold, creeping realization settled in his mind.

They weren't just fighting him.

They were attacking him like a real group of fighters.

And the Lich was watching.

Waiting. And amused.

Aldric exhaled sharply, steadying himself. His muscles burned, his stamina wearing thin.

He needed to finish this.

[Skill Activated: Predator's Gaze]

Target Weaknesses Identified.

The world shifted.

His vision adjusted, and suddenly—he could see them. The fractures in their bones. The weaknesses in their movements.

The system wasn't just feeding him knowledge. It was guiding his instincts.

Aldric exhaled.

And then, he tore through them.

A step forward. A blade thrust. A Wight fell, its spine severed.

A dodge. A counterstrike. Another's head sent flying, its jaw still twitching even as its body collapsed.

Two more lunged at once.

Aldric twisted—one sword passed just inches from his chest.

He caught the other's wrist mid-swing, stopping the strike with raw strength— Before driving his sword through its skull.

Three left.

The remaining Wights hesitated.

Aldric smirked.

They could think. And that meant they could fear.

"Come then," he muttered. "I haven't even started yet."

The Wights charged.

Aldric's breath came sharp and ragged, his muscles burning with pain as he cut down another Wight. The undead warrior crumpled, but its lifeless stare remained locked on him even as it fell apart.

The other two Wights hesitated, their movements slower now.

They had started this fight with confidence.

Now?

They were adjusting, their tactics shifting, as if realizing they weren't facing just another mortal.

Aldric felt a grim satisfaction at that.

Then they attacked again.

This time, their movements were sharper—more precise. One struck low while the other aimed high, forcing Aldric into a difficult defense. He barely managed to parry the downward strike, twisting to avoid the second blade.

But he wasn't fast enough.

A sharp sting tore across his left shoulder, the Wight's sword biting into his flesh before he could fully evade.

Aldric gritted his teeth, ignoring the pain.

No hesitation. No weakness.

Before the Wight could pull back, Aldric retaliated. He rotated his grip on King's End, driving the pommel of the sword straight into the creature's face. The force of the blow sent the Wight stumbling, and Aldric didn't waste the opening.

With a swift, brutal swing, he cleaved the undead in half.

One left.

The final Wight stopped moving.

Aldric's narrowed eyes locked onto it, watching as the undead warrior slowly lowered its blade.

Not in surrender. In acknowledgment.

The Wight took a slow step back, almost as if bowing. Then—it collapsed into dust.

Aldric didn't move for a moment, blood dripping from his fresh wound.

The Lich had been watching this entire time.

And now?

Now it was smiling.

[Experience Gained: 1,200]

[Level Up!]

[New Skill Acquired: Abyssal Endurance]

Aldric barely acknowledged the system notifications. He didn't need a glowing message to tell him what had just happened.

The Lich had tested him.

And it had found him worthy.

The skeletal sorcerer took a step forward, its cold blue eyes flickering with something akin to amusement.

"You are… unexpected," it mused. "A revenant that does not serve the grave. A warrior bound to the Abyss, yet still fighting with a mortal's fire."

Aldric exhaled slowly, rolling his aching shoulders.

"If you're done watching, we can skip to the part where I kill you."

The Lich chuckled, the sound crawling over Aldric's skin like unseen fingers.

"Kill me?" It tilted its head. "You misunderstand. I have no need to waste my strength fighting you. Not yet."

Aldric's grip tightened around his sword. "Then what do you want?"

The Lich's empty sockets burned brighter.

"A question, revenant. Do you truly seek vengeance… or something greater?"

Aldric didn't answer immediately.

The Lich's words lingered in the cold air, pressing against him like a weight.

Do you truly seek vengeance… or something greater?

Aldric had never questioned it before. His path had been clear—find Darion, make him suffer, and erase his existence.

But now, standing before this undead sorcerer, watching the Wights kneel before crumbling into dust… he felt something unspoken beneath the surface.

Something he didn't understand yet.

The Lich watched him in silence, waiting.

Finally, Aldric exhaled. "What are you offering?"

A slow, knowing chuckle rattled from the Lich's throat. "Ah. You are learning."

It raised a skeletal hand, and the ground beneath them shiver.

The fallen Wights—nothing but bones now—began to stir again. But this time, they did not rise as enemies. Their remains shifted, twisting together in an unnatural fashion, forming a single shape.

A throne.

Aldric's hand twitched toward his sword, but he didn't draw it. Not yet.

The Lich stepped back, gesturing toward the throne of bones. "Sit."

Aldric's eyes narrowed. "Why?"

The Lich tilted its head. "Because I have seen warriors like you before. Those who return from death do not walk without purpose. And yours… is not mere vengeance."

Aldric remained still.

The air around them seemed to hold its breath.

Then, with slow, deliberate steps, he approached the throne.

And as he reached out to touch it—

Abyssal power surged through his veins.

His vision fractured.

And the world faded away.

_______________________________________________

[Abyssal Rebirth System – Status Screen]

Name: Aldric EverthorneRace: Abyssal RevenantLevel: 6Class: Abyssal Revenant (Evolving)

[Attributes] Strength: 22 Agility: 18 Vitality: 25 Arcane: 12

[Skills]

1. Revenant's Resurgence (Passive) – Upon death, the Abyss will restore the user's body, though at a cost.2. Blood for Power (Active) – Sacrifice health to gain a temporary boost in Strength and Speed.3. Predator's Gaze (Active) – Highlights enemy weak points for a short duration.4. Abyssal Resilience (Passive) – Incoming damage reduced by 10%. Wounds heal 20% faster.5. Deathstalker's Instinct (Passive) – The longer a fight lasts, the stronger Aldric becomes.6. Abyssal Endurance (Passive) – Reduces stamina consumption and allows Aldric to fight longer without fatigue.

[Equipment]

Weapon: King's End (Abyssal Greatsword) – Absorbs power from slain enemies, growing stronger with each kill.

Status Effects:

Minor wounds (Healing), Abyssal Influence (Unstable)