Chapter 58: Ch. 57 – It Feels Good to be Queen Again

A banshee’s wail of a laugh echoed throughout the entire Hall. Every surface cracked in response, the building trembling like it feared its own collapse. As more cracks formed in the cobbled walls, black goo began to ooze through them. The ooze looked similar to unformed Nether magic. It had the same texture as the primordial material that constructed Momo’s summons – the unformed void that grew into the argentavis, or the ostrich.

She must be a necromancer, Momo deduced, her eyes widening. Her power was striking, nearly unbelievable. She imagined it rivaled Valerica’s, if not superseded it. The mere thought of someone stronger than Valerica standing a few feet from her sent a chill down her spine. The fort reacted similarly; stone splintered off the wall, crashing around her. She yelped, falling to the floor. Complete awe took over Momo as she watched the woman ascend upwards, levitating through the air as the chains broke off of her.

“Long time no see, Sera,” Nia smiled.

Sera.

Momo’s mind stilled. It was one of the three Excalibur necromancers. The one that had manipulated Leone into building the monstrosity that nearly wiped out Bruda – the famed Necropriest.

This was Nia and Vivienne’s secret plan? Momo watched the thief’s expression of pure elation. Momo had been all wrong – this wasn’t about money at all for her.

This was about the revival of a beast.

“Oh gods, it’s too late,” Gunther whispered.

The doors of the judgment room flew backwards, torn off their hinges. Vivienne’s magical locks didn’t seem to impede Sera in the least. The backdoor hurtled into Gunther, pinning him to the floor. Septim screamed, running past his lord and towards the back of the platform.

“Oh, little skeleton, don’t make me chase you.”

Sera outstretched a hand, and Death magic zipped out of it, crossing an unbelievable distance in mere seconds. It struck Septim in the back. As if stabbed with a dagger, he froze. His body went limp. He groaned, and keeled over immediately. His face fell flat on the stone, unmoving.

Momo blinked. Holy shit. He was dead. Sera had just killed him.

“[Raise Undead],” Sera commanded, with the ease of a shrug. With her finger still pointed at Septim, his body began to rise upwards slowly. It was as if his limbs were moving independent of him – first his knees, then his hands, and finally his skull. Momo closed her eyes, unable to watch the inhuman performance.

“How unusual. A necromancer who closes her eyes at the rise of the undead,” Sera commented, turning her gaze to Momo. “You must be the one Morgana speaks of.”

Momo’s skin crawled, her eyes snapping back open. The last thing she wanted was Sera’s attention. The Necropriest hadn’t even known how annoying Septim was, and she still killed him outright. Cold, thoughtless murder. It was probably a blessing upon the intelligent population, but still. Momo felt herself mourning his loss, as if a hunter had shot a helpless dog.

“He was harmless,” Momo whispered.

“A knight? Harmless?” Sera raised an eyebrow. Her robes danced as she descended onto the floor, and began walking towards Momo. “No disciple of Kyros is harmless. They all feed his deadly ego. His murderous campaign.”

“R – right,” Momo stuttered, shaking as Sera approached her. The Necropriest folded her cowl down, and stripped the bandages off the bottom of her face. Her hair had been trimmed down to near baldness. Her lip, cut. Still, she smiled broadly, exposing shiny, white teeth.

One thing about necromancers, Momo learned, is that they loved to smile in the face of death.

Her knees wobbling terribly, Momo could do nothing but stand as Sera inched closer to her. This could be the moment I die, Momo thought. Again. One stray movement, and it was all over.

Sera wrapped her hands around Momo, and took her into a bone-crushing hug.

Literally bone-crushing. Momo could feel at least three separate bones crack, sharp pain shooting up at her from every limb. The pain was nauseating, and she nearly fainted the moment it hit her. The only thing that kept her upright was Sera’s embrace.

“I’ve heard great things about you,” Sera said. Her tone was cold, yet Nia still looked onwards with jealousy.

“Hello? Nothing for the woman who just broke you out of ten years of prison?” she commented, eyes narrowed.

Sera turned, waving her off. “I’ll get to you later.”

Nia huffed, and Sera turned her attention back to Momo, whose face was contorted in extreme pain.

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“Oh my, I must have nearly killed you with that hug,” she laughed. It wasn't a sympathetic or pitying laugh - but one of genuine amusement. After a second, she pressed her arms, softer now, to Momo’s. A white light, corrupted by streaks of black, emanated from her. The light bathed Momo's body. It tingled, turning sharp pain into a faint numbness.

She sighed as the relief came instantaneously.

“My apologies. Ten years in solitude, and you tend to forget how to give a proper, non-fatal hug,” she shrugged. “But all is well now. If you start throwing up termites in a few hours, that’s completely normal. You might also hallucinate the death of your friends and family, but nothing to worry about.”

“What?” Momo said weakly.

“Side effects of [Dark Healing], is all,” Sera smiled, patting Momo on the side. “Now, Morgana has been telling me so much about your little escapades with Valerica. Gods, I miss that witch. I’ll have to seek her out once I’m done here.”

“Once you’re… done here?” Momo muttered. “What exactly is it that you intend to do?”

“Finish what you started, of course?” Sera laughed, raising her hand into the air. She twisted it, and a large splash of black goo appeared on the ceiling. It spread rapidly, painting the entire chamber black – every stone, every chair, even the floor. It bubbled up from the ground, forming furniture that hadn’t been there before. Most notably, an ornate, midnight-colored throne.

She stepped away from Momo, and went to sit on the chair. Getting comfortable in her new, goo-created seat, she stretched her limbs.

“Ah,” she sighed. “It feels good to be Queen again.”

“You sure didn’t miss a beat,” Nia rolled her eyes.

“Why the whining? It’s as you said. I’ve been preparing for this for ten years,” Sera said, stretching her arms. She whipped her hand again, and an array of black orbs formed in every corner of the room. They sprouted gooey limbs, then feet, and began scurrying around the place. Dozens of minions, with misshapen faces and too-long legs. This has to be an insane evolution of [Summon Lesser Familiar], Momo thought.

Septim, hunched over and dead in the eyes, appeared finally at the doorway. He had been trying to get over to it for a period of five minutes, to no luck. Momo imagined it was hard to get accustomed to walking like a zombie. Just didn’t feel natural to let your feet actually do the walking, and not your brain.

“You, go paint the rest of this place,” Sera commanded, producing a paint brush and a paint can made of pure Nether, and tossing it to Zombie-Septim. “I want every stone covered, alright? I can’t stand to look at this boorish gray for even a second longer.”

Septim failed to catch it, instead getting whacked over the head by the paint can. He groaned in acceptance, and grabbed it once he was back on his feet. He trotted away towards the hallway, dragging the paintbrush behind him.

Poor guy. Momo frowned. She knew his soul was long gone, probably wandering uselessly around the Nether, but it still didn’t feel right to see his body limp around.

Momo noticed that the Con Artists had been suspiciously quiet. She looked towards them, and saw that they suffered a similar fate to her — utter, shocked silence. Even Teddy had the foresight to shut his mouth. Better to see how things played out, Momo guessed. It’s all ‘let’s take down the dictator!’ until the dictator is a bald, Excalibur Necropriest who just turned your enemy into a paint can-wielding zombie.

“You,” Sera snapped her fingers towards Nia. “Where’s your sister? She should be back by now.”

Sister. Momo’s eyes widened. So she had been right! The similarity had been too uncanny. Nia grimaced as the Con Artists gasped, obviously not happy about the information being shared. Still, she kept her mouth shut. She wasn't about to challenge her new master.

“Vivienne? She’s busy creating the distraction that allowed me to unchain you,” Nia rolled her eyes. “But I agree, someone should probably check on her. Pol isn’t exactly your average grunt. If he figured out she was lying, then there’s a high chance…”

Nia’s face whitened. It seemed she had been too preoccupied with Sera to worry about her sister, but now the reality was dawning on her. She began to tap her foot anxiously.

“I’ll go get her,” Nia said, heading for the exit. “She’ll be somewhere in the Knight Barracks.”

Momo’s ears perked up. “I’ll come with you!” she said, following suit. This was a double opportunity: one, to get the letter she owed Komodo, and two, to high tail it out of here before Sera noticed. She doubted she’d kill Momo on a whim – it might upset Morgana – but she didn’t trust her to let her go, either. Momo didn’t want to become the next Leone.

Plus, she missed Valerica. She seemed like a much more sensible, kinder boss by comparison.

“Whatever,” Nia said, turning into the hallway. “Follow me.”

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