Lich for Hire

Lorencos had served the Leonine General longer than anyone. The two of them had known each other since their youth, and Lorencos was only a few years younger than the general.

They had taken their oaths together, enlisted together, fought side by side, and, one after the other, had risen to the realm of legend on the battlefield.

Lorencos was the general's right hand. They had each taken blades meant for the other. Their bond was closer than any marriage.

But as Roger Ángelo grew more brutal, Lorencos had instead grown uncertain.

The empire's fervent faith had once convinced Lorencos that everything he did was just, that he was contributing to the welfare of all humanity.

There was no question that humans lived well in the Lyon Empire, far better than in other kingdoms. Unifying the continent so that all humanity could share that prosperity was a noble cause worth fighting for.

But some people, immersed in slaughter, would push that fanaticism to its extreme. Others would find their fervor washed away by the blood.

Roger Ángelo grew more extreme and ruthless by the year, and the minimum age of his victims dropped lower and lower. Lorencos had once raised the matter with him, but nothing could shake Roger Ángelo's will.

A paladin sworn to the oath of conquest could not set it down. To do so was to break his oath.

Lorencos had tried hiding his uncertainty. Don't think, don't reflect, and nothing would be a problem. The strategy had worked well enough until Alfredo was born.

Lorencos had never expected to father a child at nearly sixty.

He hadn't wanted children. With his soul as stained as it was, how could he bring a child into the world in good conscience? But in the end, at his wife's insistence, the two of them had conceived Alfredo. The Holy Light had helped, of course; otherwise, fathering a child in his late fifties would have been difficult indeed.

Once he became a father, certain things could no longer be set aside. But as Ambrose had observed, the older men of Lyon were already inseparable from the empire.

Their relatives and friends were all fervent followers. To remain clear-eyed in such a world was its own kind of torture.

They struggled to preserve everything they had. That came first, and only then might they consider changing the empire.

That order of priorities tended to leave them paralyzed, unable to do anything at all.

Lorencos was no different from James Watson. In the end, he had let Alfredo become Roger Ángelo's subordinate, and not just a mere subordinate at that, but his closest personal guard.

And then Alfredo's hands had been bloodied too.

The guilt had been buried in Lorencos's heart, kept out of sight on ordinary days. But when Alfredo was turned into an undead, that carefully parceled guilt had cracked open.

That was why Lorencos had allowed Allen, a known traitor, to spend a night with his son.

And when Allen spoke of unjust wars, Lorencos could no longer hold back.

"Allen, you're right. We've committed sins beyond measure. The Holy Light should turn to flame and consume me. Alfredo, we will all fall to Hell."

Alfredo was stunned. He had been wavering, but now his own father was confirming the traitor's words!

Allen, for his part, found things going almost suspiciously well. He had been bracing himself for a long search to find anyone who shared his convictions. To find two within hours, and one of them a legendary paladin?

"The Lord of Dawn must have blessed me."

Allen's faith in his god was unshakable.

Lorencos agreed with Allen's reasoning, but he didn't simply join Allen right away. Instead, he asked, "Allen, how do you intend to proceed?"

"First, we must look for more like-minded people," Allen answered. "Our strength alone isn't enough to stop this war."

"How long will you have to look? Even with the lich's mess and the curse's effects, the war will be delayed by at most a month. How many can you find in that time?"

Allen hesitated. He didn't have a good answer to that question.

"I don't know. I've only recently realized how little I understood about Lyon. We were all blinded by our fervor, our hearts walled off to the truth. I might find only a handful before war breaks out. But however slim the hope, we have to try."

Allen's resolve firmed as he spoke. This would never be an easy task.

Even with the Lord of Dawn's blessing, finding a few allies didn't translate into recruiting hundreds or thousands within days.

If something like that did happen, it would almost certainly be a trap of the general's making.

Lorencos pressed further. "If you don't have confidence in yourself, how do you intend to stop this war?"

But Allen was no longer wavering. He answered calmly, "Whatever the result, I'll be on the battlefield. If I have to, I'll stand with the Unholy Kingdom and help them resist Lyon's invasion. I don't expect to bring many to fight beside me in just a few days. But I'm not what matters. What matters is that other people share my conviction. Even if I die on that battlefield, someone will remember what I did. Soon enough, others will make the same choice I did."

Lorencos scoffed. "How can you be that confident? If you die, it's all over. I won't acknowledge this meeting. I'll join the others in spitting on your name as a traitor."

"Of course I'm confident. For more than a thousand years, Lyon has worshipped the Lord of Dawn. I trust the Lord of Dawn. Under his light, there will never be a shortage of brave souls. I may be the first. I'll be the one who lights the fuse. Even if I burn out, others will come after me, one after another, to save this empire."

That was the truth Arthur Lyon had taught him: people die, but ideals endure.

In an empire of hundreds of millions, Allen didn't see himself as anyone special. Lyon's brave souls were simply lost. They didn't know what to do, nor even whether anyone around them shared their thoughts.

Allen would tell those lost souls that many had already discovered the empire's corruption, and that they were ready to give their lives to save the country.

After Allen finished, Lorencos remained silent. At last, Alfredo couldn't help asking, "Father, are... are you all right?"

Lorencos turned to his son. "Son, you still have the chance to atone. If you don't want to fall to Hell, follow Allen."

Alfredo couldn't quite take it in. Was he to suddenly throw in his lot with this traitor?

It made no sense. Even if the empire had its faults, did that justify outright treason? Couldn't they remain in Lyon and find a way to change things from within?

"Father, perhaps there's another way..."

"Perhaps there is. But you don't have the time to wait." Lorencos sighed. "Just as Allen can't gather enough strength before the war begins, you can't afford any more hesitation. Your chance to atone won't last. Do you really think the curse has gone away?"

Alfredo remembered the slow transformation, the undispellable fear that had wrapped around his heart. The fear settled over him again.

Was this truly the only way?

He looked uncertainly to Allen, but Allen only shook his head. "I don't know what sins you've committed, but I'll tell you this: changing your position for the sake of atonement is meaningless. This is a sacrifice, not a transaction, Alfredo."

Allen's understanding of the Holy Light had been deepening. The man he had once been had cared about merit, about who was right and who was wrong.

He no longer let himself dwell on those calculations.

To live by one's oath, to fight for what was just, was not a matter of gain or loss, nor of how great or small one's contributions were. None of that mattered.

If Alfredo acted solely for the sake of atonement, the Lord of Dawn would never grant him forgiveness.

Lorencos sighed. "You're right. I had it wrong."

"So no matter what I do, I'll fall to Hell?" Under the weight of so much new information, Alfredo felt his mind grinding to a halt.

Allen nodded. He wouldn't deceive Alfredo just to recruit another to his cause.

"Alfredo, go back and think it through carefully. But if you can, please don't report me. I need more time and more people. If you make up your mind, come find me here. I'll wait until the war begins."

Two days later, the father and son, along with several paladins they had brought with them, headed to Allen's side.

For a moment, Allen had thought they had changed their minds and come to capture him. But there were too few of them for that.

It turned out that Lorencos had quietly turned each of these paladins to their cause.

As the Holy King had observed, there was no shortage of Lyon citizens who shared Allen's thoughts. They had simply been too afraid to show it, and had no way of knowing whether anyone around them felt the same way.

Allen was now a torch, and moths would be drawn to him in the thousands.

"This isn't everyone," Lorencos said. "There are at least thirty more in Lavarun who would follow us. They're my men, and I know each of them well, but they're too weak. Our defection will draw pursuit. Bringing them along would only get them killed for nothing."

Allen agreed entirely. Like-minded people didn't necessarily need to gather in one place.

Better to leave embers behind in Lavarun than to gather everyone and have the city catch them all in one swoop. The embers would set the sky alight in time.

Things were going almost unbelievably well. Within a few days, Allen had six high-tier paladins under his command, and one more legend among them.

They were a small but elite force. The advantage showed quickly: Allen evaded two waves of Lavarun's pursuit teams without difficulty.

During one such evasion attempt, Allen noticed something strange. While hiding from a pursuit team, he saw several tiflings slip into Lavarun in furtive haste.

Allen abandoned his usual caution and stayed outside the city to observe what was happening.

After half a day, he saw the same tiflings emerge.

They had no missing limbs and bore no visible injuries. They left as completely as they had entered.

That wasn't the general's style. He was a man who would gladly exterminate other races. The diplomatic courtesy of sparing envoys during wartime had no place in his code.

There was only one way these tiflings could have left so easily: they had brought the general news he was very pleased to hear.

Were the tiflings preparing to surrender? Was there a tifling traitor among them? Or had they been the general's own informants from the start?

Whatever the case, the intelligence had to be significant.

Allen was left with a conundrum: should he try to find out what that intelligence was, or should he warn his key allies immediately—among them, the lich whose mere mention left him uncomfortable?