Overwhelming Firepower Chapter 389: To finish what was started

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Previously on Overwhelming Firepower...
A commoner with immense magical talent was taken in by a kind old mage. After years of training and surpassing his master, the young mage faced discrimination from nobles. He found love and support in Liora Veyne, but the empire forced him to fight in a war. Upon his victory, he learned Liora and his family were executed, fueling his hatred. He created an undead army and marched against the empire, ultimately sealing his soul away before dying, vowing revenge.

He had long forgotten his name; the only things he remembered were the faces of his parents who loved him, his mentor who cherished him, his beloved Liora, and his eternal hatred for the empire that took everything from him.

He did not know for how long he had slumbered, nor did he know where he was. There was only darkness.

Soil pressed against him from every direction. Stones dug into his back. Roots had wrapped around his ribs and arms.

He tried to move his fingers. Something dry and brittle scraped against dirt. He could not see his body, but he could feel it. There was barely any flesh left on him. His limbs were thin, twisted, and weak.

The body that had once traced mana through the air was now little more than a corpse that refused to die.

A cracked whisper escaped his throat. "Move."

The mana answered his voice. The earth trembled, roots withered, stones split. Slowly, painfully, the buried corpse clawed its way upward through layers of soil and forgotten time.

At last, one hand broke through the surface, then another. The lich dragged himself out of the ground beneath a pale moon. Only then did he look down at his hands.

They were thin, dry, and twisted. His fingers were bone wrapped in dead flesh, and his nails had darkened like old blood. It didn’t take too long for him to accept what had become of his body.

It didn’t matter if he was now a rotten corpse; he needed to finish what he started. He needed to take everything from the empire, the same way it took everything from him.

The Lich pressed his hand onto the ground, and several mouse skeletons came rising out. With his thoughts, he commanded the skeletons to check the surrounding area.

The Lich linked his sight with the skeleton mice, allowing him to see what they saw. The mice crawled through grass, roots, and broken stones. They passed beneath bushes, slipped through cracks in old walls, and moved across roads that had not existed in his memory.

The first thing he noticed was that there was no banner of the golden sun, no knights wearing the familiar sigil and armor, and no mages that floated above the sky with haughty attitudes.

Instead, he saw metal ships above the skies, a long giant moving metal carriage with smoke coming out.

The skeleton mice continued moving. Their tiny bones clicked softly against stone, dirt, and wood as they spread through the nearby area.

Through their hollow eyes, the Lich saw roads smoother than the imperial highways he remembered. He saw lamps burning along streets without oil. He saw people dressed in clothes of styles he did not recognize.

He saw a world that had continued without him. A world that had grown into something new. A world that had dared to move forward while Liora remained dead. While the atrocities committed remained unjudged.

His fingers dug into the soil. The boy he had once been would have stared at those sights with shining eyes. He would have asked a thousand questions.

He would have chased after the giant metal carriage, wanting to know how it moved. He would have looked up at the ships in the sky and imagined boarding one to see the world beyond the horizon.

That boy was long gone. The Lich felt nothing. There was no wonder, there was no joy, there was no curiosity. What remained was only hatred. He could not accept such a world!

Yet despite his anger, the Lich who had failed before knew that he needed to gather information and power first.

The Lich remained still beneath the pale moon, his hollow eyes staring at the world around him. The empire was gone. That much was clear.

There were no golden sun banners, there were no imperial patrols, there were no towers bearing the old crest, and there were no proud imperial mages floating above the sky as if the world beneath them belonged only to their bloodline.

Everything had changed, but that did not mean everything had been forgiven.

The empire could crumble. Its palaces could fall. Its name could be forgotten by farmers and merchants. Its roads could be buried beneath new roads, and its towers could become stones used in another kingdom’s walls.

However, blood did not vanish so easily. The emperor had children, the nobles had children, the soldiers who slaughtered his beloved had children.

The mages who hunted him had children. The families that feasted while Liora died had descendants somewhere in this new world. He could sense their filthy presence all over this world.

"Even if the empire is gone, it still has something that remains. Then I will kill what remains of it," He whispered to himself, his voice scraping like bone against stone.

The Lich slowly lifted his hand. The skeleton mice scattered once more. They moved through the night, slipping through the cracks.

Right now, the Lich needed information about this new world, and he also needed to regain his old strength. No, what he needed was more than that. This time, he will make sure to bury every single bloodline of the empire with his beloved.

The blood of those people had thinned over the centuries, mixed with other families, hidden beneath new banners and new kingdoms, but it had not disappeared. Mana remembered what flesh tried to forget. The Lich could feel those traces scattered across the world like stains that refused to fade.

However, knowing where his enemies existed and being strong enough to crush them were two different things.

Right now, he was weak. His body was rotten, his mana was still thin, and his army was nonexistent. The world had changed, and the weapons of this era were unknown to him. Before revenge, he needed power, and before power, he needed information.

The skeleton mice scattered through the night once more. He was looking for someone whom he could use.

At last, one skeleton mouse entered a small building near the center of the town. The place was quiet, but it was not empty. Shelves filled with ledgers, maps, sealed letters, and old records lined the walls. A man sat at a desk, copying names beneath candlelight. His fingers were stained with ink, and his eyes were red from exhaustion.

He was talking about various things he needed to do while looking at parchments. This man seemed educated enough to answer the questions he needed answered.

The Lich decided that this man would be the first thread he pulled from this new world. It would take a bit of his mana to do, but the Lich decided that it was necessary at this point.

The Lich raised one finger. The candle flame inside the room bent sideways. The man stopped writing.

For a moment, he simply stared at the flame, confused by the unnatural movement. Then the floor beneath his chair softened like mud. Before he could shout, thin skeletal hands burst from below and grabbed his ankles.

His mouth opened, but no voice came out. A strip of shadow wrapped around his lips and swallowed his scream.

The man was dragged beneath the floor. The wooden boards closed above him as if nothing had happened.

A moment later, he landed hard in an unknown area. The smell of damp stone, mud, and rot filled his nose. He tried to crawl away, but something cold touched the back of his neck.

"Do not move."

The voice that spoke was deep and frightening, as if the very air twisted on his words. Slowly, he turned his head.

In the darkness behind him stood something that looked like a man only because it had once been one. Its body was thin and rotten, its skin stretched over bone, and its hollow eyes burned with pale blue light.

The clerk’s face lost all color. "M-monster..."

"Did you not understand my words?" The Lich used a translation spell and repeated his words. "Do not move, answer my questions, and I might let you go."

The clerk suppressed the fear he was feeling and looked around to see if he could use something and escape. He could not see much of anything; the clerk had no choice but to cooperate for now and nodded his head.

The Lich stared at him for a moment before lowering his hand. "Good."

The clerk swallowed hard. "What do you want to know?"

"Do you know of the Golden Sun Empire?"

The clerk quickly shook his head. "I have not heard of such an empire."

Despite already knowing the answer, the Lich still asked the question. He was so far into the future that the name of the largest human empire had already been forgotten by time.

The Lich stared at the clerk. Then a dry laugh softly escaped his throat.

"Forgotten," he whispered. "They built towers that tried to reach the sky, swallowed every resource around, and believed their name would last forever. Yet even their name has rotted away."

The clerk trembled, unable to understand why those words sounded so joyful but filled with hate.

The Lich leaned closer. "Then tell me the names of this kingdom, your armies, your temples, your mages, and the weapons you use. Tell me of your dead heroes, where you buried your strong knights and mages. Tell me everything that you know."

"If you dare lie," the Lich whispered, blue fire brightening in his hollow eyes. "I will ask your bones instead."

As a person of Norvaegard, even a mere clerk had some pride in his bones. Fear consumed him, but the thought of betraying his kingdom frightened him even more.

He knew that telling this monster those things would result in the death of hundreds or possibly the destruction of his own kingdom.

Despite the fear consuming him, the clerk lunged forward. The moment he did, the Lich placed one hand on his face and used Drain Touch, absorbing the life essence from his body.

"How foolish. You did not have the filthy blood of those sinners. I would have let you live if you simply answered."

It was a bluff that he could extract information from dead bodies in his current condition. Also, even if he resurrected this clerk as a soldier, he was too weak to be of use.

"Better find another one who will answer my questions." The Lich burned the body of the dead clerk.

The Lich watched the ashes scatter across the damp stone and thought of the clerk’s final act of resistance. It would seem that this kingdom’s people were more stubborn than he expected.