The OP Lich is a Returnee

Book 3 – Shadows

Prologue – Trade Chat

(Magical World Disharmony Server, General Chat)

UsualSuspect, manoutoftime, muon, MewTwo, Avariel, Chummer, Golddigger, CrazyCelt, Blaze, DoYouEvenLyft?, MarcoPolo, MightMakesRight, MacD, Inquisitor, OrangeQueen, Lizard, RedFox, SemiSolidSnake, BabyShark, Not_the_Face!, Scholar, Patriot, Anonymous3, Anonymous4, Anonymous7, Anonymous9, TheLichQueen, WhiskeyTangoFoxtrot, DigDug, Backlog, DarkAvariel, Knocker, GrimDark, BloodForTheBloodGod, BackDat@55Up and DarkAngel are in the chat.

BabyShark: Oh, god, are you seeing the news out of the UK?

muon: What, did they finally decide that they stood no chance in the World Cup, so they just dropped out to save face?

BabyShark: NO, not sports! I mean the attack on the King!

Patriot: That’s just a false flag antifa propaganda trick put out by the fake news media! Do your research!

AngryMod has joined the chat.

AngryMod: Nope. This is not happening. Debate is accepted, but lies and misinformation is not. Come back in a week. And the rest of you, keep it civil.

Patriot has been suspended for 1 week.

Patriot has left the chat.

AngryMod has left the chat.

Anonymous3: Oof, that was quick.

Backlog: To be fair, after those idiots tried to hold actual witch hunts for mages after their ‘Glorious Leader’ told them to, even after he was out of office, people have been cracking down on the wingnuts, and systematically deplatforming those who want to spread hate.

Lizard: True. At least it led to the churches finally getting taxed, as they grew more and more political.

MacD: That’s what killed off the Baptists, right? Their current crowd aged out, and the kids didn’t want any part of that, so they eventually died off when they couldn’t support themselves any more.

DigDug: Well, there WAS a reformation, as several more moderate denominations merged. They also picked up an older version of the bible, rather than the King James one, that added in stuff about gays and women serving men.

Blaze: Yeah, but even in the South, they’re still not number one.

Golddigger: True. Catholics got a boost, despite having to finally deal with the pedos rather than shuffle them around, and other religions, like Wicca and Buddhism really caught on, as people were looking for something new to believe in.

Scholar: Technically, Buddhism isn’t a religion, but more of a philosophy and spiritual lifestyle.

Inquisitor: Ignoring all of that for now, what happened in the UK, BabyShark? Someone attacked the King?

BabyShark: Yes! They’re saying it is some group called the Pucky? Or something like that. Attacked the palace itself!

OrangeQueen: Oh, my. That takes the whole conflict in North Ireland to a new level, I’m afraid. Was the King in any danger?

TheLichQueen: He would have been, at any other time.

Patriot2 has entered the chat.

Patriot2: You can’t censor me! I have rights! This is a violation of my First Amendment rights! I’m going to sue you so hard!

AngryMod has entered the chat.

AngryMod: First, freedom of speech means the government can’t lock you up for talking shit about the government. It does not mean anyone else has to put up with your shit, or give you a platform for it. Second, using an alternate account to get around a suspension is a big no-no.

Patriot2 has been PERMABANNED.

Patriot2 has left the chat.

Patriot’s IP address has been site banned for six months.

Patriot’s chat logs have been forwarded to Legal Department for possible action.

AngryMod has left the chat.

Inquisitor: Ahem. So, LQ, what did you mean by that?

TheLichQueen: Well, two reasons. First, the King had just taken possession of a protective item that the royal family commissioned with their private funds, to be added to the Crown Jewels. As it stands, little, short of a nuke blowing up in his face, could harm him unless it was incredibly powerful.

TheLichQueen: And second, I was with him at the time, so there was never any real danger to his person. One of my guards quickly took out the attacking force after the first explosion.

BabyShark: Oh, wow! I saw that procession to the palace on TV! You had that carriage with the skeleton horses, and those knights in armor, looking like something out of a storybook!

TheLichQueen: Yes. One of my knights took care of the attackers. The most I did was offer a shield and cover while the King used healing potions to tend to his guards, who had been wounded by a grenade.

BabyShark: Then the gossip story going around that the King saved the lives of two of his royal guards, personally pouring healing potions down their throats? That was real?

TheLichQueen: Yes, indeed. The King did an admirable job of keeping cool under pressure, and acted like a true monarch should.

Chummer: Any idea how they got to the King, though? I mean, even with magic, that’s not something that the British government would just let happen without making it tough.

TheLichQueen: I cannot comment beyond what has been released publicly, unfortunately.

Chummer: Damn.

MewTwo: So, moving away from that, what is this I hear about some new products coming out of Phantomline?

TheLichQueen: Ah, that is something I can talk about. Product testing is about to start with the Shield Bracelets.

MewTwo: Shield Bracelets?

TheLichQueen: Yes, a simple bracelet. When you channel mana, or magicules, into it, you’ll create a shield bubble around yourself. The strength of the shield depends on how much mana you pump into it, and it lasts until you stop pushing mana into it.

MewTwo: Like, just push mana into it, and it does a shield? No CAD adjustments, no casting?

TheLichQueen: Indeed. That’s because it is a focus, not a CAD. It activates as quick as you can react, but you can’t use it to do any other spells with it.

Scholar: Fascinating. So, how is it better than a shield spell cast by a CAD?

TheLichQueen: Cast time from a focus is 150 milliseconds, on average, compared to 550 milliseconds with a CAD. Granted, that is only a difference of 0.4 seconds, but still…

Scholar: 150? That’s faster than the average human reaction time!

TheLichQueen: The focus cuts out a lot of the physical reactions. So, it activates as fast as you can decide to activate it, compared to a CAD, where you have to decide to activate, and then use the CAD controls to cast the spell.

Scholar: My god, is that how you cast so fast?

TheLichQueen: I have multiple foci, and 40 years of practice using them, yes.

BabyShark: Damn. Those terrorists were fucked before they even started the attack.

Chapter 21 – Commission

Obviously, you couldn’t be involved (even as an observer) in the most high-profile assassination attempt in the last hundred years and not expect some of the craziness to try and follow you home. Of course, it wasn’t the Irish rebels that were my concern. They didn’t have overseas resources, afterall, being too focused on their (far more local) troubles.

The Purifiers, on the other hand, were a menace all across the globe. They had grown out of extremist elements of different Christian faiths, and viewed the advent of magic as a sign that divine intervention was coming, to smite all the nonbelievers, or some such nonsense. Honestly, for Kaori, trying to listen to one of them for more than a couple minutes would have made my brain leak out of my ears from boredom, if I still had flesh.

Fortunately, the King and his guards were impressed with the way things ended, and, while it was necessary for me to leave rather quickly, they would be happy to have me back sometime. More importantly, I heard that the King had mentioned to the Prime Minister that ‘perhaps it would be best to look into training Britain’s mages to foreign standards’. Which was a typically British way of saying that they wanted to try and make some of their home-grown mages be able to act on my level.

Naturally, that wasn’t possible for most people. I’d gotten some heavy boosts from being a Summoned Hero, and transforming into a Lich had allowed me to train further with magic than any mortal mage could have hoped to do, unless they trained for twice as long as I was in the other world, at the least. And there was the fact that the international community still hadn’t quite settled on the proper role of mages in the military, since there were more than a few mages who could be considered walking weapons of mass destruction, even if they weren’t on my level.

Oh, I could easily wipe a small country off the map, if I chose to, especially in this world that didn’t have any mages or powers that were at a level where they could stop me, but that didn’t mean this world’s mages were weak. Actually, with the way they viewed magic scientifically, they had the potential to be even more deadly, if they could figure out the right formulae. Explosions were easy, after all, but if a mage figured out how to do matter to energy conversions? Or even just being able to transmute matter to antimatter? Well, the possibilities were nasty as hell.

This wasn’t an issue in the other world, of course. Not because the power requirements made it impossible, far from it. No, the problem was that to transmute something, you needed an understanding of both what you were going to transmute, and what you planned to transmute it into.

Turning a bar of lead into gold? The more you knew, really knew, about both substances, the easier it was. Wanted to turn a goblin into a rat, so it would stop trying to shank you in the kidney? The more you knew about what you were transmuting, the better.

That was why most transformation spells actually were far more generalized. For instance, take a spell to turn an orc into stone. Now, how specialized you made the spell determined how easy it was to pull off. So, a ‘Flesh to Stone’ spell would be easier to cast than a ‘Orgur Bloodaxe to Layered Marble’ spell, and would be applicable to more than just a specific orc.

The downside of the general spell, of course, was that, because it was more general, the counterspells were easier to come up with. This meant that it was far easier to remove a transmutation spell that targeted a general group, rather than specific individuals. Normally, that wasn’t an option, since most mages didn’t have the time to construct individual spells for their targets, but some elite assassin mages had been known to do that, for their more… particular targets.

So, a personalized spell was harder to pull off, but if it landed, you could get a much greater effect for less effort, and it would be harder to remove the spell. The only real downside to the personalized spell was that it only applied to a single person. In fact, depending on how it was personalized, there were times where a mage could be flummoxed by a spell that didn’t work, because the target had changed enough in the interim to put him out of the dataset.

At any rate, going back to the ‘Flesh to Stone’ spell, the basic version turned the target’s flesh (the skin, muscles, and fat) into whatever the mage thought of when they thought ‘stone’. Typically ended up being gravel, or the like. Now, this most basic spell worked, if your goal was to kill someone in as bloodless a manner as possible. However, that spell wouldn’t transform anything but the flesh, meaning the target’s brain would still be active, for a while. How long depended on whether the caster imagined the heart as one of the muscles, or one of the internal organs. Either way, it was likely to be the longest three minutes of their life, before they finally died.

Fun fact, that spell was literally used as the highest form of punishment amongst the vampire clans in the old world, above even making them sit in the sun. At least, with sunlight, the pain would be over soon. With the imperfect Flesh to Stone spell, however, an immortal creature like the vampire would be locked in eternal stasis, unable to move, or even scream, not even being able to die. All that was left for them was madness.

So, to get a version of the spell that did what most people actually wanted (turning someone into a statue, so that they could potentially be restored later, if needed), you’d need to know enough about general anatomy to include the entire body in the spell, and have an idea of what kind of stone you were turning them into. This would allow you to basically ‘suspend’ someone in a kind of stasis as a statue, where they would be unaware of anything until released. From their point of view, time would have just stopped, and never started again.

It was for this reason that, in the other world, the Mage’s Guild was one of the premiere sources for anatomical knowledge in the world. In fact, it was number two, after the Healer’s Guild. Of course, the Assassin’s Guild, at number three, was actually number one when it came to knowledge of how to end a life, naturally, but their specialization left them behind the Mages as far as general knowledge went.

You’d think anatomy would be even more important for necromancers than it would be for other mages, but, in fact, that wasn’t quite true. The curses and maledictions necromancers were needed a little knowledge, sure, but only enough to break it. Ask anyone who knew computers, and they’d tell you the amount of programming you need to know to destroy a computer is a fraction of what you need to really get in and use it to its fullest. Same idea, there.

You needed even less anatomy knowledge for creating undead. Sure, you needed to know bones, to reinforce and animate them, but creating undead was more about Soul Magic than anatomy, and the further up the ‘food chain’ of undead you went, the more and more soul magic trumped science. After all, a wraith didn’t even have a physical body, so what good was anatomy when making one?

This was most when you got to the highest forms of undead, the various kinds of liches. To be able to make a lich, you literally had to perform soul magic on your own soul, ripping it out of your own body, severing its ties to its mortal shell, and forcibly binding it to a new shell, all before you became too dead to complete the process of turning into an undead. There were various permutations, mostly depending on the kind of vessel you chose, and what body you ended up possessing, but that was the core of things.

If I was going to be honest with myself, it was truly luck, and the combination of boons I’d gotten as a summoned hero that had allowed me to complete the transformation as a true lich, despite my lack of knowledge and power. It had been a desperate gamble, since my teacher hadn’t mentioned liches before, except for once in passing, but magic responds to intent, often enough. Same as on Earth, there were plenty of tales of people doing things beyond all sense of their capabilities, because they were pushed into a corner, and had no other choice. Only, this time, those desperate acts had magic behind them.

I shook my head as I leaned back in my chair. The King had bought, again out of his family’s own funds, shield foci for all the guards attached to Buckingham Palace. According to my father, they Prime Minister was negotiating for bulk orders, to supply the rest of the armed forces, starting with the Special Air Service, Special Boat Service, and Joint Special Forces Aviation Wing.

Not that the British were the only ones looking into things. The number of governments seeking contracts were astounding. If even a fraction of them came through, the research and development process would more than pay for itself by the end of the year. Phantomline stood to surge above several other divisions in the family corporation.

And it wasn’t just Phantomline. Athelian Arms had delivered its first commission piece, and everyone in the world knew that the King had chosen them to add to the Crown Jewels. The fact that it was an enchanted item, and not just a fancy CAD, really sparked interest.

My studio was swamped with a sudden wave of commission requests. Not one of my crafters was wanting for work, that much was certain. No matter their discipline, there was someone in the studio that needed something made. Which brought me to my current project.

Dennis, the master blacksmith I’d hired, was talented and skilled enough to well and truly deserve his title. But he was trained in European styles. For the majority of things, that did not matter. Steel did not care about your nationality when you forged it, after all.

This request, however, was different. The granddaughter of the leader of the Inagawa-kai was getting married. She was something of a rebel in the typically conservative yakuza world by taking an active role in the organization, having worked her way up as an enforcer.

Normally, something like this would not be accepted. After all, traditions are part of what made the yakuza the yakuza, and not some gaijin trash like the American syndicates, or the Italian ones before them. And things were already changing, with the Awakening, so the oyabun had folded one more change in with the others. Some complained, but only until the clan became number two in Japan, instead of number three, with the rise in profits that accompanied that growth. Everyone agreed that the oyabun had ridden the waves of change well.

So, when his favorite granddaughter announced that she was getting married, the oyabun reached out to Athelian Arms, to create the perfect wedding gift for her. There were plenty of things we could have made for her. After all, we had all kinds of craftsmen. But the oyabun wished for his granddaughter to receive a sword, one that would rise to legend, as he hoped she would.

Dennis was many things, but he was not trained in the art of making traditional Japanese swords. If he were to forge a European bastard sword, I trusted him to make it worthy of tales, right up there with Arthur and his knights. But this and that were different things entirely.

I had a little experience with Japanese-style swords. Or close enough, at any rate. The elven country of Waselin had used blades almost identical in form to the Japanese style. That was to be expected, since they often fought on horseback, when they descended from their mountain forests. I had learned their techniques, so I felt confident in my abilities to make a sword that the Oyabun and his granddaughter would accept.

Now, I just had to make it.

Chapter 22 – Forging a Blade

Now, if someone was going to go with a traditional forging process for a katana, using all the old ways, the time to complete a blade could be a whole year, from the time you start making the tatara to when you finish polishing the blade. And that was with a team of thirty craftsmen all working together! Naturally, I did not have that kind of time or staff.

Fortunately, I didn’t need to do all that. Magic and modern technology could substitute for several parts of the process. For instance, I didn’t need to make a tatara, when I had a modern crucible that I could use to smelt the tamahagane. Even better, the steel would be more uniform in quality, unlike the traditional style where the steel around the edges was better quality than the steel towards the center.

Using modern steel and a modern furnace allowed me to cut a bunch of time off the process. I wasn’t going to use a power hammer, because I wouldn’t be able to infuse mana into the steel while I worked it like that. And infusing mana was important if I was going to make this sword a thing of legends.

Using magic to watch over the crucible, I spent thirty-six hours refining the steel, allowing the carbon to infuse itself throughout the mixture, getting a uniform steel. At this point, I poured the steel and drew it out into a sunobe. So far, so good.

Once I had the sunobe, it was time for the arduous task of folding the blade. Now, this went faster for me than it would for a feudal era blacksmith, since my undead form was stronger than a normal human, and I did not tire from the work. This meant that I could continue hammering the steel faster, and for far longer than any master blacksmith could have hoped to do as a mortal man.

However, there was a limit to how much faster I could go. I needed to keep at a consistent speed, as I literally hammered mana into the blade with every stroke, infusing it. If I tried to go too fast, I risked an uneven distribution of mana, which could ruin the piece. So, the process was only slightly faster than normal.

What would have taken weeks of eight-hour days was completed in a single week of constant hammering, folding the blade twenty times. It was possible to fold the blade more than that, of course, but the benefits trailed off rapidly, especially compared to the work required. No, twenty folds was just fine, especially since each layer had mana hammered into it. I wasn’t even finished, and already I could tell that, when I was done, this blade would become a legend overnight.

With the folding done, I moved to the next step, carefully applying the clay to the back side of the blade, so that, when I heated and quenched the blade, one side would cool differently than the rest. This helped the blade hold its edge, while still being ‘springy’ enough to hold up to the stresses of combat. And I had no doubt that this sword, no matter how beautiful I made it, would see combat.

Back and forth I moved from the forge to the basin. Normally, one would use water to quench the blade, but I already knew what kind of enchantment I wanted to use on this sword, so I decided to use another liquid. Blood.

Getting enough blood to fill the basin was easy enough. After all, draining a single person dry of their blood was enough to get roughly five liters worth. To say that I had killed a lot of people in the other world would be an understatement. I had killed entire countries worth of people, collecting their bodies and draining them of blood before I caused them to rise up and join my army as skeletons and zombies.

All that blood I kept safe, in sealed jars kept in my inventory to preserve its quality. Blood was used in so many enchantments, especially those revolving around life and death, or those made for war. Unfortunately, being undead meant that neither I, nor my army, had the necessary blood to contribute to those kinds of enchantments, and it wasn’t always possible to get prisoners to volunteer. So, not wasting the blood was essential.

Actually, that was one of the lessons that my crown-appointed teacher made sure to teach me. Saving bodies, and preserving their fluids, was the first role of a necromancer in old Athelia. Raising the undead was forbidden without supervision, but even a righteous kingdom acknowledged the usefulness of keeping bodies intact, and so anyone with necromantic aptitude was taught the spells for preserving bodies and their potency.

Each time I quenched the blade in blood, I made sure to draw mana through the blade. That sounded counterintuitive, considering that I had spent so much time hammering mana into the blade, but I wasn’t actually drawing the mana out of the blade. Rather, I was using the blade like a siphon, causing it to soak up the mana in the blood, infusing the sword with the essence of blood.

The essence of blood was important, especially for a weapon that would be hunting humans, because a weapon infused with it would, even without enchantment, take of the blood it tasted in order to repair itself of any damage that did not outright destroy it. The blade I made would stand up to normal abuse, of course, but there were always forces that could harm a blade, or dull its edge. With this, any chip, any crack, even at the microscopic level, would heal itself as the blade drew in blood essence from its victims. As an added bonus, no blood would stain the sword or its fittings, even if it killed a thousand men.

The body of the sword forged, I began sharpening the blade, making sure that it was razor sharp. Sharper than that, even. Magic made it so that I could sharpen it down, sharp as it was physically possible for steel to get.

That done, I set the blade aside. Now, I had to choose the blade’s fittings. Most of the parts were simple to make, though I ensured they were done with quality material. The tsuba took a bit more time, as shaped into the shape of a cherry blossom surrounded by a ring in which I etched a dedication.

愛する祖父からの忠実な孫娘のために

‘For a loyal granddaughter, from a loving grandfather.’ Simple, perhaps, but it was part of the oyabun’s request, so I made sure that each line was completed precisely. This was, after all, a gift for the oyabun’s granddaughter. It wouldn’t do to make a mistake.

The tsuba I painted white, with pink along the edges, making it look like a true Sakura flower. The ring I left black, with gold highlighting the engraved message, making it pop just enough to be seen, without being ostentatious and garish. Then, I used magic to set the paint, so that it would not chip or fade from any impact that did not damage the tsuba itself.

With the tsuba done, I turned to work on the hilt. The materials, obviously, were high quality and traditionally sourced. I imbued them with mana as I worked them, making them fit as though they were grown out of the tang itself. I kept the wrapping simple, a cherry-blossom pink upon white.

The aesthetic I wanted to go with for this sword was beauty that belied the danger. Sakuras would be the theme of the blade’s look, but the blade itself would be far from a simple flower. It was fitting, as I was inspired by the woman the blade was destined for. I’d seen pictures of her, and she was beautiful. If she were dressed in a kimono, one would never suspect that she was one of the most feared enforcers in Tokyo.

With that done, the time came to fit the saya. I made it from wood, in the traditional style. Like the tsuba, I painted it white, with a cherry blossom motif running along its length. And, as with the tsuba, I ensured that the paint would not chip or fade.

The next step was to engrave my maker’s mark upon the blade, just above the handguard. The crest of Risen Athelia would grace this blade, to let all know that it was the Lich Queen’s work. Above my mark, I then engraved the sword’s name along the blade: 血を飲むさくら. Chionomu Sakura, the Blood-Drinking Sakura, deserved no less.

Finally, there was only one step remaining, before I began enchanting the blade, and the saya. Before I could do that work, the sword needed to be polished. It wouldn’t do to have any of my enchanting work wiped away by the polishing stones, after all.

Polishing the sword, properly polishing it, so that the blade gleamed and was ready for my enchantments, was hard work. Traditionally, it would take weeks to polish a new blade, perhaps more time than it took to actually forge it into shape! But a good polish could make even an inferior blade look like a work of art, and a bad polish could ruin even the best of blades, and not just aesthetically! The traditional ways were slower than just using a power tool, but the results spoke for themselves. Even so, it took me another week of work, literally working around the clock, with seven grades of stone, to properly polish the blade, I knew it was worth the time to do this right.

Eventually, the crafting of the blade was finished. I held it in my hand, and then swung it a couple of times. I was no expert swordsman, of course. I was a necromancer, after all. But it served any craftsman well to know at least the basics of what their weapons were used for, or they could miss things that would be obvious to any practitioner.

I knew enough to know what to look for when holding the blade. Balance, edge alignment, the pattern on the blade, ensuring the blade was straight, all of that mattered. And so, when I held the sword in my hand, I checked it over. I could tell that the balance was perfect. In one hand or two, the blade felt like an extension of the arm, almost weightless, despite its 1.2 kilograms of mass, and the blade was straight and true, with the wave pattern just as it should be. A flawless blade.

I paused. I would have taken a breath, if I needed to do something so mortal. Looking at my phone, I saw that it was almost midnight. It had now been almost a month since I took the commission, and just over three weeks since I’d begun the crafting process. I hadn’t left the shop in that time, since I did not need to eat, drink, or sleep. I could afford to take a bit of a break, and relax.

Walking out into the office, I checked through my business messages first. Thankfully, between Hideo and Hisa, the things I actually needed to take care of were relatively minor. Just a few things, like approving the next month’s budget, and signing off on a couple projects to partner with Phantomline on. None of it time-critical. They would have come to me if that was the case.

Checking my personal messages, I saw a message from Holly, with a compiled list of the different outfits wanting me to go on their shows, or do public appearances, for one reason or another. Most of them were junk, but a few were worth looking at. A guest lecturer spot at her niece’s university on the nature of magic. A keynote speaker and judge position at the National Magic Competition, too. That one actually came with a separate request for a magic exhibition as part of the ceremonies. I sent acceptances to all of those.

I was just about to go back to work when I felt a tickle at the edge of my wards. Someone was coming to visit, it seemed, and we were well past closing. Perhaps I should see if they were lost?

Chapter 23 – Interruption

I decided that, for this little bit of ‘guidance’, I didn’t want to scare off whoever it was that might be coming to my door, by appearing in my full ‘lich queen’ form. Instead, I decided to appear in my human form, with my miko outfit. That outfit was still powerful enough that it could stop a round from a .50 caliber machine gun without suffering any damage, on top of any of my other protections, so it wasn’t like I was taking any foolish risks.

Also, instead of my signature staff, I decided to bring out one of my other weapons, a wakizashi with a pure white wooden hilt and no tsuba, allowing the hilt to flow seamlessly into the saya, of the same design, slid into my obi. The blade I had just forged was not the first one I had ever taken the time to forge, after all. I didn’t bother with hand-to-hand, usually, because I was a magic user. However, one of the first lessons the Athelian trainers had taught us was that we should learn more than one means of fighting. Antimagic fields were a common way to stop mages, and there were many creatures that were healed by certain types of magics, or could only be harmed by one kind of attack.

They were trying to teach us to fight as a unit, to take on the Demon King’s forces, but I took it a different way. I learned to use many weapons during my exile in the other world. I was no master swordsman, of course, but I could hold my own against threats who were unphased by my necromantic powers. Well, at least long enough to have my army come to my aid.

In this world, however, I was too overpowered. My skills with a blade were still thoroughly average, but my body was leagues above and beyond what the people of this world could match, even without boosting myself with magic. So, really, I was just trying to give them a chance by using the wakizashi.

Stepping outside into the lights of the small parking lot, I was just in time to see a car pull up, a comfortable four-seater. As expected, four men got out of the car. No, wait. Three men and an oni. How very interesting.

The three humans looked surprised to see me. A miko standing in a parking lot at night did leave one wondering what was going on, sure. Still, the driver of the car started forward.

“This is no place for you, little girl. You need to go.”

I smiled at him, and said, “Ah, no, I am afraid you are the ones who are out of place. Especially your ‘friend’ in the back, there. Perhaps I can give you directions on someplace healthier to visit? The woods really aren’t safe at night. I hear there are bears, and worse, out here.”

The human who had been in the back seat with the oni sighed. “We had hoped to do this without blood. The clans exist in balance, now, but allowing the Inagawa-kai to further pervert the traditions that we have kept for over three hundred years threatens that balance. Understand that we have no animosity towards you, or the owner of this business, but we cannot allow the ascension of Nagai Tatsumi to shateigashira of the Inagawa-kai.”

Ah, that made more sense. This wasn’t something involving me directly, but internal Yakuza politics. These men were probably from a rival clan, one less than pleased with the ‘rebellious’ Inagawa-kai breaking with tradition, and allowing women to advance through their ranks, amongst other things. If the oyabun’s granddaughter were truly going to be put in as the shateigashira, or second lieutenant, of the entire organization, then the impact on the Yakuza clans as a whole would be huge. For the old guard and the conservatives, it would be like trying to stand against a typhoon.

The man continued. “We tried to speak with someone here, tell them that it would be in everyone’s best interests if the commission they were making for the Inagawa-kai were to be delayed, even offering lucrative contracts to offset the loss of face that the delay would incur on the studio’s part. Unfortunately, our diplomatic overtures were ignored.”

I nodded. Of course, I knew that those overtures, and the threats behind them, weren’t ignored. Lailah would have a copy of them, for legal cover. Anyone who physically attacked my businesses, or my people, would have to deal with me, after all. And we had such good press from my recent actions that social attacks would be difficult to pull off. Economic attacks had even less chance of working, thanks to my personal wealth. So, I had just told my people to forward any threats to the proper people, and ignore them.

“So, which clan do you represent? I wish to know, so I can send them a notice of my displeasure later, along with your heads.”

This insult did not sit well with the humans, but the oni? He just laughed. The leader turned to look at the oni, who began to walk forward. The humans cleared out of his path, with smug expressions on their faces. Clearly, they thought of this oni as a trump card.

As he stepped towards me, black smoke roiled off his body, obscuring him for a moment, before it revealed his true form. He was a giant ogre, blue-skinned and horned, with eyes that burned with flame. He stood almost three meters tall, and was well-muscled. In his hand, he carried a massive kanabō, that was as tall as he was, and looked to be as large around as a normal man’s arm.

“Oh, hoh! I had been hoping to meet the famous little undead girl these humans had been talking about. Ever since they brought me forth, I have never been able to fight against worthy prey! How lucky I am!”

“So, you know of me, and still, you approach me?”

“How can I fight you if I don’t approach you? Now, I get to crush you, and when I eat your bones, I will become even stronger than I am now! None can stop Regran of the Blood-Stained Hand!”

I yawned in the face of the oni’s preening. He took offense to this, for some reason. With a roar, he charged at me, swinging his massive club down in an attempt to drive me into the ground like a hammer meeting a nail. I stepped to the side, allowing the blow to strike the ground next to me, shattering the asphalt.

Sighing, I simply shook my head. “You have strength, but your skill is lacking.” The oni snarled, and swung his weapon to the side, but I hopped over it. “You telegraph your moves, to the point where even a schoolchild would be able to dodge your attacks.” Another blow, this time at an angle, and twice as fast as before. “Still sloppy. Are you relying on the odor of your breath to kill me, or were you actually trying to use a weapon?”

For two minutes, I played with the oni. I had yet to even draw my blade, and the demon was getting frustrated. However, he did start picking up the pace, moving faster, and displaying more skill as the battle went on. Perhaps he was just rusty from not having had to fight a true battle in far too long?

Finally, a blow came quick enough that it was finally at an acceptable speed. Instead of dodging, this time, I blocked, using my sheathed sword to stop the massive kanabō. I wasn’t worried about damaging the sheath, as it had been enchanted to be indestructible by any means this world had. My own frame easily took the impact, but I did have to use a touch of magic to keep from being launched backwards, due to the sheer force of the blow.

“Yes, that is more like it,” I smiled. “Finally, you meet the least requirements to have me draw my sword against you. I was starting to worry if you were ever going to prove worthy of getting killed by my blade, or if I was simply going to have to reduce myself to ripping your arm off and beating you with it.”

Regran snarled at me. “You’re speaking pretty tough for someone who hasn’t been able to do anything but just barely dodge all this time!”

“Oh, my. It seems I have misled you. I dodged all those blows so narrowly out of choice, not necessity. Like I said, you’re far too open. But enough about me. It is time you meet an old friend of mine.”

Slowly, I drew the wakizashi, moonlight catching the blade and making it shine with a silver light. I looked at the oni, and grinned. “Give thanks to whatever powers you pray to. Few beings have ever been allowed to witness the beauty of my blade. And then regret, for none have lived to tell of it, and neither shall you.”

The oni snarled, and was about to say something, but I cut him off, magic filling my voice in command. “Shine, Mangetsunoshi!” As I held the sword aloft, a beam of pure moonlight poured down upon the demon.

Regran screamed in pain as the light touched him. Smoke rose from his skin once again, but this time it was from silver flames that spread across his body, covering every part of him. He tried to throw himself out of the beam, but was rebuffed, the light forming a barrier that he could not escape with mere strength, not at his level.

He screamed, and screamed some more, as, over the course of thirty seconds, his flesh was burned away, leaving only an oversized skeleton. And then the skeleton, still screaming began to burn in silver flames, the demon somehow impossibly still alive, despite the damage done to him! He must have had an incredible vitality. A normal creature would have been slain in a fifth the time, and with far less pain.

In the end, all that was left was Regran’s skull, sitting upon a pile of ashes and bone dust that had once been a demon. There was no trace of his weapon, as it had been consumed long before. Still, it was good to finally have found someone in this world that had at least been able to go more than a few seconds against me without dying.

I sheathed my sword.

The sound of feet scrambling drew my attention to the three men. They had lost their smug expressions partway through the fight, as their champion didn’t simply flatten me, and then proceeded to get toyed with. Now, with his destruction, they found their senses, and began trying to get to their car.

Two bolts of black lightning struck the underlings, causing their soulless bodies to fall to the ground, and bringing the leader up short. I noticed a growing wet spot on the front of his trousers, but decided not to comment on it. No need to shame the soon to be dead, after all.

“Who sent you?”

“Betrayal is punishable by death.”

“Then you should jump at this chance I’ve given you. Your masters can only kill you. I will do far worse to you. Not even death will save you from me.”

As I spoke, I captured the souls of the two unfortunates in gems, causing the leader to shudder. He stammered wordlessly, trying to find a way out of this predicament. But I wasn’t finished with my ‘demonstration’. The two bodies rose as skeletons, the flesh melting off their bodies as they rose up in a sickening display.

The two skeletons stood next to the leader, and grabbed his arms. As they began forcing him to his knees, he finally remembered his voice. “The Sumiyoshi-kai will avenge us!”

“Ah, so the Sumiyoshi are the ones behind this? Well, don’t worry. I will be sure to give them reason to think twice about challenging me.”

One of the skeletons held the leader down, in a kneeling position, and the other had its arm become a blade made of bone, which it used to sever the leader’s head from his shoulders. A burst of magic as his head fell sealed the man’s soul inside his head. His head would not die or decay unless destroyed, trapping the man in a cursed immortality.

His body rose up, and picked up its severed head. The two skeletons then opened the car doors. As the reanimated corpses got into the car, I ordered them, “Drive to the home of the oyabun of the Sumiyoshi-kai, obeying all traffic laws as you do so, and then you may rest. As for you, my little severed head, tell your bosses everything that happened here. You will be the warning about what happens if they continue to provoke me.”

Chapter 24 – Enchanting

After seeing my unwanted guests off, I turned my attention to the meager spoils of the fight. Well, meager by my standards, at least. However, for this world, the souls of your enemies and the bone ash of an oni was far from meager.

Actually, now that I thought about it, the souls and ash would be very useful in crafting the enchantment for the sword and its sheath. The souls would actually make the enchantment I wanted to put on the sword, to make it live up to its name, easier, since that hint of soul and necromancy magic would be like carving a path for water to flow through. The ash, on the other hand, would be perfect for the saya, since I could use it to impart some aspects of the oni upon the saya itself, as well as the wearer.

I decided to start with the saya. That was the simpler of the two enchantments, after all. Thanks to the bond with the blade, and the bloodforging I had done, the saya would ‘heal’ itself of any damage as the sword drank blood, but it would be better still to keep the saya from being damaged in the first place!

Sitting down at my enchantment bench, I started with taking some diamond dust out of storage. In the other world, the substance had been called adamant, and it was stronger there than in this world, due to having soaked up the earth mana around it as it formed. That made it prized in any enchantment where permanence or immutability was key.

I was really looking at two enchantments on the saya. The first, which I would use the diamond dust for, was to make the saya tough as adamant itself. This would allow the user to do things with the sheath that would be patently foolish, if not downright impossible, without the enchantment, like using it to block an enemy’s strike.

Sprinkling the powdered adamant on the saya, I began concentrating on the enchantment, willing my mana into the piece. I could not engrave the saya, which meant I needed to rely on the imbuement that I’d already done while making the sheath to guide the mana, as well as my own skills. That made the process more difficult, but it was far from impossible, especially for me.

I felt the enchantment begin to sink into the saya, as it should. Normally, my job would be complete there, but I was not yet done. Reaching out with my magic, I held on to the enchantment, keeping it in that half state, between implementation and completion. I would use it as a guide to layer the second, and more important, enchantment on the sheath.

For this, I needed the bone ash. Sprinkling it on top of the powdered adamant, I focused on the qualities of the oni. Not that particular oni, but of the type as a whole. Strength, vitality, toughness. This is what I wanted the saya to convey to the one who held it, or wore it at their side.

The enchantments were simple enough, common ones in the other world. The idea of making a warrior stronger, healthier, and tougher than he naturally was could hardly be called a unique concept, after all, and even the combination of the three in one was not unusual, amongst those who could afford the enchantment. But just because something was simple, did not mean it was weak, or ineffective. The spear was the simplest weapon in human history, save only for picking up a stick or rock off the ground, and yet it endured throughout the ages because it worked.

Of course, just because the pointy stick worked, did not mean it couldn’t be improved, or that all pointy sticks were the same, and this was true when talking about enchantments, as well. Take the Strength enchantment, for instance. ‘Make the wearer stronger’ was a simple concept, but how did it get implemented? There were several ways, of course, each with their own strengths and weaknesses.

The first, and simplest, was to increase the wearer’s strength by a set amount. If it were broken down into numbers, and someone had a strength of 10, and the enchantment added 5, then the swordsman would have an effective strength of 15. But someone who started at 5 would see their strength go to 10, doubling it, while someone with strength 15 would see theirs become 20, making it less effective as the user’s power increased. Oh, it was still good, and still effective, but there were better options out there.

The second way was in granting the mantle of another’s strength. So, if the oni whose bones were used in the enchantment had a strength of 25, then it mattered not whether the wielder had a normal strength of 5 or 15, they would be treated as having a strength of 25 while they wore the blade. The flip side of this, of course, was that, if someone’s strength was 30, it would effectively lower their strength to 25.

Obviously, such an enchantment was really useful for a weaker warrior, like a mage who was forced into a melee, but was ill-suited to most warriors, and actively restricting them when they got too powerful for the mantle. Which was different from saying that it was useless, or harming them. Limiters, like the one I normally wore to keep from overwhelming those around me with my presence, were absolutely useful for the more powerful individuals, as it let them interact with the world around them, without, as one cartoon superhero said, feeling like they were in a world made out of cardboard, where they had to concentrate on constantly holding back, so that they didn’t destroy things, or people, just by a simple pat on the back.

The third way of doing the Strength enchantment was by having it essentially amplify the wearer’s strength by a set percentage. Most enchantments of the type were in the range of 20-50% improvement. So, at the high end, a wearer with a Strength of 10 would have an effective strength of 15, like the first method, but one who had a strength of 5 would only be 7.5, while one at 15 would find themselves at 22.5! This meant that the enchantment, in essence, grew in effectiveness as the wearer gained power and strength.

Those were the three main ways of doing the enchantment, but there was a fourth way, most prized amongst weapons intended to be heirloom blades, passed down from generation to generation. This fourth way began its ‘life’ as one of the first three, but had the option to allow a wearer to infuse some of their own strength into the weapon, so that, as they grew stronger, the enchantment grew stronger as well, in proportion of what they gave to it. Then, when they passed on the blade, the enchantment would be just as strong as it was before the old wielder gave it up.

This was all well and good, if the sword was passed on after death, or when the wielder was too old to fight, and wished to retire, so that the next generation could take up his office. But if the blade was stolen, then the wielder would be robbed not just of the enchantment, but also the strength they had put into it, as that strength was no longer their own, but the enchantment’s. They would not gain it back until the sword was recovered. Worse, if the blade were destroyed, that strength would be lost to them forever.

That kind of enchantment opened doors I thought were best left shut, at least for now. Such weapons inevitably became the source of incredible trouble. Either their wielders got too powerful, without the discipline required to wield such power, or they invested too much of themselves into the blade, becoming shells of their former selves if it was stolen. Not to mention that they had a nasty tendency to develop into cursed weapons, as wielders often infused their hate and anger into them while they gave the blade their strength.

No, I wasn’t going to unleash that kind of weapon into this world, not yet. Not until they were ready for it. I decided to go with the ‘percentage’ option. But I wasn’t going to go for simply increasing the wearer’s strength by half. That may have been the high end of the average, but I was far from average, especially in this.

Using my magic and the bone ash, I began weaving a tripartite enchantment to go with the indestructibility of the saya. The wearer would be twice as strong as they normally were, muscles and bones strengthening together, so that the body didn’t rip itself apart. The vitality of the oni ensured that no natural disease would touch her, and she would have some resilience against those of supernatural origin. And, finally, her skin would be like iron. Oh, it would feel soft, like normal flesh, but it would not tear or cut or bruise unless the blow would mar forged iron, allowing her to shrug off some weapons, or at least lessen their effects. I was sure the idea of being able to survive getting shot would appeal to a Yakuza princess.

Each part of the enchantment was simple, and so, as I wove them into the final form, they took their place easily. Using the powdered adamant and the bone ash together helped tie the two main enchantments together, dust and dust mixing easily, while remaining distinct. The perfect middle ground between complete incompatibility, like oil and water, and complete blending, like salt and water making saltwater. Those had their uses, but weren’t what I wanted, at the moment.

I watched as the melded enchantments settled in. In its final form, just the saya would be enough to make any enchanter proud. Combined with the blood-drinking blade, the one who wielded the sword would be a devilish foe to fight, especially once they learned to fully harness their strength and toughness. But I had yet to properly enchant the blade.

As with the saya, there were multiple parts to the enchantment that I wished to place on the blade. Multiple parts, but I would start with the simplest one. That was to simply put a bit of strength into the blade, allowing it to resist the strength of the wielder so that a single blow did not shatter the blade entirely. Anything else could be healed through blood.

Which brought me to the next part of the enchantment. A blade that healed by drinking the blood of its victims was nice, but it was little good if it was in flawless condition while the one who wielded it fell, succumbing to many wounds. And the protection offered by the saya was not absolute, especially when magic was in play.

Thus, I used one of the two souls I had captured, and added my necromantic might to the blade. This gave the blade a vampiric effect. Essentially, when the blade struck a living foe, it would feed on their life essence, and use it to heal the wielder. And, if the wielder killed someone while she was in full health? Then it would simply add to her life, to the point where she could preserve her youth and beauty indefinitely, if she killed often enough. It gave one the potential for functional immortality, if you had enough enemies to sacrifice.

Those were both passive effects, however. I wanted one effect to be active, one that the wielder would have to consciously choose to use, and power with their own mana. The enchantment would give them the path to use the ability, allowing them to do something they otherwise would be unable to do, but they would have to supply the mana.

This active enchantment was a specialty of the Kingdom of Risen Athelia, as it had its roots in the soul magic areas of necromancy. Namely, it was a technique to allow a warrior to skip silly little interferences like an enemy’s arms and armor, and strike to the soul directly. The technique’s name was Lifestrike, and it clad the blade in brilliant light, causing it to shine like a lit brand.

While lit, the blade would pass through any nonliving material as though it weren’t there, neither contacting or harming it. Only magical barriers, or defenses like a dragon’s toughened hide, could stand in a Lifestrike’s way. This made it extremely useful against the most heavily-armored foes, but utterly useless against nonliving targets, such as undead or constructs. A Lifestrike could not even harm, much less sever, a single mundane thread of spun cotton.

The other drawback to Lifestrike, besides the fact that it was all but useless against certain types of foes or obstacles, was that it was expensive to use. Either the enchanter had to devote multiple souls (or at least a soul of higher quality than the one’s immediately on hand) to complete the enchantment, or it would need to be something that fed on the users own mana to sustain it. This second form was actually less of a downside than it seemed, since it allowed for more variability, and would cause anyone on the wrong side of it a potentially fatal surprise the first time they saw it up close.

When it was finished, and all three enchantments settled into the blade, I sighed in relief. I used a significant amount of mana with this enchantment, but I knew, without a doubt, that it was worthy of being called a masterwork. I was sure that the oyabun and his granddaughter would be pleased.

Chapter 25 – Threats

“One vehicle approaching the gate.”

The men reflected in my scrying mirror frowned at the radio message from the front gate, as they watched the approaching car. Clearly, they thought something was off, with someone coming to visit, unannounced, when it was almost four in the morning. Visitors at that time were never welcome, unless you were talking with vampires.

“Any sign, or signal?”

“None. Something seems strange, though. Blue lights, where the eyes should be. Some kind of night-vision goggles, maybe?”

“Exercise caution, Hara.”

“Understood, Niikura-dono.”

I chuckled. Once I finished my enchantments, I slipped the sword into my pocket dimension for safekeeping, and returned to my mountain stronghold. The scrying mirror I had there, was actually not of my design, but rather the one that had served in the palace of the Athelian kingdom for generations. In fact, it still bore the Athelian coat of arms at the top of its three meter by two meter frame.

Scrying, a subset of divination as it was, was something I was familiar with. The scrying mirror served as a focus, easing the connection, making it require less mana and concentration, as well as making it harder to block the connection with wards or spells, but any mirror or reflective surface could have served as well. Even something so mundane as a puddle of water on the ground could work, and I knew of at least one elven kingdom that had an enchanted basin that was the equal of this mirror whenever you poured water into it.

Now, to a certain extent, scrying was a bit like trying to find something on a satellite photo. If you didn’t have some sort of connection to home in on, then you were literally just scanning random areas, hoping to get lucky. Unless you narrowed it down, somehow, you were better off not wasting the energy trying. Scrying for ‘the leader of my enemies’ was worthless, but scrying for ‘the army attacking Southbridge’ was easy, and could then let you refine your spellwork until you found the general in charge of the army, assuming there were no protections in place.

Of course, having a connection to your target was even better. Whether it was a piece of stone that came from the area you wished to search, a belonging of the person you were searching for, or the blood of a creature you were hunting, that connection was basically like typing in an address in the GPS, rather than just trying to find the location by scrolling through the map. Since I had three undead bodies and a severed head I’d personally been responsible for animating, that was about as good a connection as you could ask for.

I focused on the mirror, and slid the scene back to the gate house. Two guards, dressed in tailored, well-made uniforms, sat in the gate house, watching the approaching sedan. Poor guys weren’t ready in the slightest for what was about to happen. The car slowed to a stop at the gate, and their eyes went wide.

“Are… are those?”

“Fuck! They are! Those are fucking skeletons driving that car! Hit the alarm!”

The alarm, naturally, brought many more people down to the gatehouse, including the man I’d been watching earlier. The car, idling as the two skeletons sat in the front seats, cerulean orbs glowing where their eyes once were, was the center of much discussion, and no little amount of fear. Finally, Niikura had seen enough.

“Open the gate. Any more, and we’ll start getting unwanted attention.”

The gate opened, and the car drove in. There was a gasp as the headless corpse sitting in the back seat was spotted, head in hands. Worse was when the body was recognized by one of the guards.

“That is Kita-san! He was taking some guys and the oni on a job tonight!”

“Enough!” Niikura shouted, taking back control from the muttering crowd. At his command, the gate was shut again. With a barked order, one of the guards opened the back door of the car, as if letting the headless corpse out.

At that moment, two things happened. First, I released the two skeletons from my control, dismissing the power that had temporarily bound them to undeath. Their bodies crumpled with a clatter of bones, as there was no flesh or magic holding them together anymore. And second, the body in the back seat turned, and got out of the car, holding its grim burden in hand.

The crowd shrank back, and the guard who first recognized the body emptied his stomach on the ground next to him. Others recognized the face held in the corpse’s hands. And then the head began speaking.

“Boss! Niikura-dono! Please, please let me die!”

The man froze. Well, that was understandable. It wasn’t every day that a severed head started talking to you, and begging to be killed.

“Kita-san, what is this? What happened to you? I thought you were supposed to just go and cause a disturbance at that crafter’s shop?”

“We were, boss, but there was someone there. A miko, maybe sixteen years old. She was standing outside the door to the shop when we arrived, waiting for us. Like she was expecting us.”

“A little girl did this to you? What of Regran?”

“She toyed with Regran, like a cat with a mouse! We didn’t know until it was too late. It wasn’t just some girl, it was that lich, the one they talked about on the news! Then, she finally drew her sword, like something from an anime, and said something, telling her blade to shine. There was a bright white light, and then Regran was gone, just GONE! All that was left was a skull and a pile of ash!”

“The little girl was the necromancer daughter of the Akagawas, then? That trained in the other world? What then?”

“She struck out with a spell. No words, no CAD. Just a wave of her hand, and both Shihi and Yukichi were dead, their souls floating visibly before me!”

“And what then?”

“She demanded I betray who sent me. I refused. But then she imprisoned my men’s souls in gemstones, and caused the flesh to fall from their bones, and become those skeleton things! Shihi held me down, and she turned Yukichi’s arm into a sword blade. I swore that we would be avenged, and the witch made Yukichi cut off my head. But she did not let me die!”

“And why not?”

The head, now almost manic, said, “She wanted me to be a message, an example. She made Shihi’s body drive us back, obeying all laws. She wanted me to be an example as to what would happen if she were interfered with again.”

Niikura breathed deeply, considering everything that was said. He pointed to one of the men, “You, get Kita-san’s head from that thing holding him. The oyabun must hear of this, and I won’t bring that corpse inside his home. Two of you, dispose of the bodies. You, go wake Sakaguchi-san. And the rest of you, back to work. Double coverage on all entrances. Call in more guys if you have to.”

As the other men started going about their tasks, the unlucky man selected to take the head edged forward, clearly frightened, and no small bit disgusted at what he was doing. Kita’s mad ramblings, which didn’t stop just because Niikura wasn’t paying attention any more, didn’t help any. Once the head was taken, I allowed the body to collapse in death, like I had with the skeletons, which only caused more murmuring, and nearly got Kita dropped to the ground.

Following Niikura into the mansion, the grim procession made their way to a very well-appointed office. Clearly, this was the oyabun’s domain. Two men were waiting in the chamber, both looking as though they’d just woken up. Niikura nodded respectfully to the one on the left, before looking at the man behind the desk.

“Sumiyoshi-dono, we have apparently had a response from the swordmaker Inagawa hired to make his granddaughter’s ascension gift.”

The oyabun sighed. “I see. I guessed that would be it, from Kita’s head there.”

“Apparently, the Akagawa girl was there herself, not the swordmaker, in that little girl illusion she wears sometimes. She took out Regran, and killed Kita’s men. Then, she had them drive back here.”

“And what was her message?”

Kita’s head stirred, and started screaming. The unfortunate man holding the head dropped it, backing away quickly. Frowning, the second man, standing by the desk, slid up the sleave of his suit to reveal a CAD on his wrist, and typed a set of instructions. The head screamed again, but this time in pain, rather than insanity, as it burst into flames. Unfortunately, the screams ended soon after, as the low-quality undead was consumed by the fire. Two more spells saw the remains deposited into a trash bin nearby, and the carpet cleaned from the soot that had dropped on it.

The oyabun dismissed the guards, so that it was only the three men remaining in the room. Turning to the mage, he sighed, “Was that really necessary, Sakaguchi?”

Sakaguchi, who must have been the oyabun’s chief mage, shook his head in disgust. “That… thing was an even worse abomination than the girl playing yakuza for the Inagawa-kai. The soul of a loyal kouhai was trapped in there, in agony. It would be a stain upon our honor to allow him to remain that way.”

The oyabun nodded. “That this necromancer girl would desecrate our fallen like this demands a response. To do otherwise would make us appear weak in the eyes of the other organizations. And it would make the juniors lose faith.”

Niikura took a breath to steady himself. “With respect, Boss, if this is the Akagawa girl’s doing, then we should be indirect in our response. She is too powerful for us to take on directly. That is why we tried to intervene by targeting her business building, rather than her or her people directly.”

Sakaguchi nodded slowly. “And attacking her at her home is out of the question. You’ve seen the pictures from our men who managed to get to the property, despite the magic trying to turn them away. There are undead constantly manning the walls, and they are far from mindless.”

The oyabun considered that, frowning as he did so. “Yes, I remember that. The three men who tried to infiltrate, and find out more about her, all ended up getting shot, each of them in the right knee. Somehow, a single arrow took off each man’s leg at the knee. You said that it was deliberate, right?”

“Yes. Once might be a fluke, and twice coincidence. But three times? All in the same instant? That was deliberate, and to send a message. It is why we haven’t tried interfering in that compound or going directly against the Akagawa girl since then. That, and what she’s shown of her abilities, means we cannot take her on directly.”

Niikura shook his head. “Perhaps, instead of dealing with the Akagawa girl, we try and deal with the Inagawas instead? We could tell the men that we are striking not at the blade, but the hand that wields it. A small fabrication, but it will satisfy them. And we know how to fight another clan, unlike this monster.”

“That is good, for the men and for the rival clans, but I would not see our loyal followers desecrated like this and not avenged in some way. What of the Akagawas as a whole? Could we target them?”

Oh, dear, that was most definitely not what I wanted to hear. It seemed that the oyabun was only getting part of the message I wished to convey to him. I would have to make things a bit clearer for him, so that the old man understood, in no uncertain terms, who he was playing with.

I used a sending spell to project my image, armed and armored as the Lich Queen, sitting upon the throne I’d taken from Risen Athelia, into that room, and magic ensured that everyone in the compound would hear my voice, as though I were right beside them. The reaction to the sending was just as I expected, with all three men jolting at my ‘sudden intrusion’. Too bad none of them were skilled enough in detecting divinations to know that I had been watching the whole time.

“Leaders of the Sumiyoshi-kai. Your insignificant threats do not amuse me. You think yourselves strong, but I am the Lich Queen of Risen Athelia! If you continue your pointless efforts against me, or attempt to strike against my family, my people, or their families and businesses, then I will send my entire army against you. And, when I am done, not one member of your clan shall be left alive, nor shall any of your families, your lovers, or your friends. You will all die, and your bodies and minds enslaved as undead, and your souls ripped away and sealed, never to know any kind of afterlife or rebirth, their energies being consumed and made into enchantments or forged into weapons to use against others who think as you do, just like two of your number have already experienced this night.

“Hear now the words of the Lord of the Dead! Give up your vengeance for those who have fallen and been consumed, or join them, along with all your friends and loved ones! And, to all those who are listening, I will offer one billion yen each for the heads of Sumiyoshi, Niikura, and Sakaguchi, delivered to my mountain stronghold, and an item which will allow them to stand again, even after receiving a killing blow. This, I swear, as the Lich Queen of Risen Athelia!”

And, with that, I cut both connections.

Chapter 26 – Meeting the Oyabun

A week after the sword was finished, it was time to meet the oyabun of the Inagawa-kai, and present the blade to his granddaughter for her ascension. I could have delivered the sword early, of course, but the oyabun had different ideas. He wished for a spectacle, to showcase his granddaughter, and asked for me to present the sword to her personally as part of the ceremony.

I was touched by this request. After all, outsiders were rarely allowed inside the high-ranking clan ceremonies. Combined with the sword being both a gift for her wedding, and her ascension to high rank within the organization, it was exceedingly rare for someone who wasn’t a member of the clan to be allowed to attend.

The implications of the invitation were not lost on me, however. By accepting, I would be linking myself to the clan. Not as a member, of course, but as a friend to the clan, at least. There was the subtle, but very real, expectation that I could call on my ‘friends’ for help, if I needed it, but also that they could call on me.

That wasn’t entirely unacceptable, actually. The history of the yakuza in Japan was very different from the history of organized crime in other countries, after all. Even if the Inagawa-kai were more ‘rebellious’ than their more conservative rivals, they were rebelling in a way that looked to be more progressive, and grow with the future.

The future was something to consider, after all. I was immortal. Unless something came along with enough power to slay me, I would be around to see the granddaughter’s granddaughter’s granddaughter take up the mantle of oyabun, assuming the clan existed for that long. In all that time, I would be a ‘friend of the clan’, an unofficial advisor, and perhaps even a mentor to the next generations?

That kind of influence and the ability to shape the rising star of the Inagawas as they grew and changed in this new magical world was a powerful draw. But it was not the only point in favor of accepting the invitation. Another point in favor would be how I could use the Inagawas to my own ends, as a way to project my own power.

Right now, I had plenty of raw power, with my magical might. I had hard power, with my army of the undead. I had economic power, with my wealth, and connections to Athelian Arms and Phantomline.

What I lacked, however, was soft power, people who knew people, and could arrange for favors to trade back and forth. The only resource I had in that arena was my connection to Wolfram & Hart. But the Inagawa-kai not only had connections throughout Japan, but also in other organizations abroad. Through them, I could have a ‘friend’ introduce me to another ‘friend’, if I needed something done.

Naturally, there would be some requests made of me, in turn, but I was not some naïve celebrity that didn’t know what strings might be attached until I got in too deep. I had forty years of dealing with nations and syndicates alike in the other world. Even if it was just opening up a line for them to purchase shield foci from Phantomline, that would be something that would greatly enhance their standing in the underworld, and lead to more change. The possibilities were definitely enticing.

Of course, just because I had been blessed with a week of peace as I prepared for the ceremony, did not mean that all was peaceful. The Sumiyoshi-kai had been humbled and shamed by my open rebuke of them, and their power. My blatant disrespect to their leaders and their dead, the bounty I placed on their leaders, and the threats I made against the entire organization and their loved ones? All of that combined to put the Sumiyoshi-kai in a bad position.

Half their kouhai were questioning the senpais about whether any actions would put them in conflict with me, or mine. Those were the ones who had family and loved ones, or were just generally smarter. The other half, well, they were the fools, or those who were too insecure in their positions that they went yipping like little dogs who thought they were wolves. They were the ones who didn’t think about the consequences; they just knew they’d been ‘disrespected’ and demanded something to make it right.

Fortunately, the leaders were smart enough to know that taking me on directly was a good way to get in a lot of trouble. However, they knew that, if they didn’t do something soon, the dissatisfaction would get to the point where one of the more opportunistic bosses would get the idea to try and move up in the organization by collecting on the bounty. So, they looked for someone else they could target, to save face and get their people’s minds off things.

There were a couple hits on Inagawa-run businesses. Two massage parlors and a local bookie all had their places bombed. Simple pipe bombs and incendiaries, crude but effective. Fortunately, they didn’t do much damage, thanks to the Inagawa reinforcements being close at hand, almost as if they’d been warned that their rivals would be taking a couple swings at them.

Of course, the Inagawas responded in kind, but they targeted two of the Sumiyoshi’s main drug warehouses. They took the money, over 2.7 billion yen worth, but left the drugs, which were seized moments after they left by the police who arrived due to an anonymous tip. Unlike the Sumiyoshis, the Inagawa raids used tranquilizer darts, knocking guards out so that there was a minimum of property damage or loss of life. Their people in the press compared that to the wanton destruction of the bombings, and made the Inagawas look like plucky underdogs, fighting with honor against thugs and bullies.

So, there was some degree of tension in the air when I arrived at the office building the Inagawas used to run their empire. Of course, some of that tension might have been due to the fact that I rode up in the back of a rickshaw drawn by a skeleton in traditional clothes. The little device was one I had used many times before, a half-step between the royal carriage, and riding and undead steed. Usually, I brought it out when I was going someplace only semi-formally, where just using magic to get around would be inappropriate.

Well, semi-formally for royalty, at any rate. The rickshaw was simple in design, but the materials and craftsmanship were all high grade, as was the undead who pulled it. The crest of Risen Athelia graced the back and sides of the rickshaw, giving it a bit of character, and letting everyone know who was riding in it.

I was wearing a full formal kimono, with traditional makeup and hair done in the gikei style, with its twin topknots and two waxed side-wings, and multiple hair sticks and combs to hold it in place. If someone from the Edo period saw me, they would, at a glance, believe I was either a member of the Imperial court, or, at the very least, one of the highest-ranking courtesans. Even someone in the modern world would recognize the time and effort that went into the hairstyle meaning that it was the mark of someone important to be wearing it at all.

Of course, none of what I was wearing was actually made on earth. The kimono was woven from the silk of demonic spiders, the hair combs were made from dragon’s bones, carved so that, when they were placed in my hair, they formed the symbol of Risen Athelia. Naturally, aside from the inherent magical nature of the items, they were all heavily enchanted as well.

The guards knew who I was, of course. I doubted that there was anyone in the city that didn’t know my symbol by now. However, they were dutiful guards, and checked my name and identity against the guest list before allowing me to pass through the lobby and into the private elevator heading to the top floors.

The skyscraper was owned by the Inagawas, but the first twenty floors were open to the public. Most of the businesses in those spaces were unconnected, and didn’t even know the Inagawas owned the building through a shell corporation, but a few were the clan’s own legitimate and semi-legitimate businesses. Floors 21 to 30, however, were solely used by the clan, with many of them actually serving as living quarters. The penthouse, where I was going, was actually where the oyabun held court, and lived much of the time.

A man was waiting for me when I stepped off the elevator, dressed in a well-tailored suit. He smiled as he took in my outfit, and bowed in keirei, which I returned in kind, respectfully. “Akagawa-sama, it is a pleasure to meet you. Please allow me to introduce myself. I am Okura Tadasuke, and I serve Lord Inagawa-sama as saiko-komon of the organization.”

I smiled at Okura. For him to use ‘sama’ with me, the same as with the oyabun, meant that he was acknowledging my importance, and the fact that I was a power separate from the clan. It was a subtle sign of respect, and an indication that the oyabun wished to treat with me as an equivalent power and ally, rather than attempting to make me one of his subordinates.

All of that, in just a few words. I had to admit that my opinion of the Inagawas rose a couple notches. This kind of attitude was all too rare in the world, after all.

“Thank you, Okura-san. So far, I have been well impressed with Inagawa-dono’s hospitality. You do your master honor with your words.”

Okura bowed again. “Many thanks, Lady Akagawa. If you please, the oyabun and his council are awaiting your arrival. Pray allow me to announce you.”

I nodded again. “Of course. I would not keep him, or his granddaughter, waiting on such an auspicious day.”

And so, I was led into what was, in essence, the oyabun’s court. Despite the progressive ways he was leading the organization down, the oyabun had his court room decorated in a very traditional style, with tatami mats and all the normal décor. At the far end, there was a comfortable chair which acted as a throne.

“My lord, if it pleases you, I would present to you Lady Akagawa Kaori, known as the Lich Queen of Risen Athelia, and the Awoken Sleeper. Lady Akagawa, you stand before Lord Inagawa Hitoshi, Oyabun of the Inagawa-kai.”

Flanking the throne were two individuals, a man on the right and a woman on the left. Both were dressed in formal attire, though the woman was dressed in a man’s formal suit. If I had to guess, that would make the man Saeki Minoru, the wakagashira or second in command, and the woman would be Nagai Tatsumi, the granddaughter and soon-to-be shateigashira. Both held their tongues, though, allowing the third person to do the speaking.

The oyabun, sitting on his throne, looked old, but younger than his true age. If my father had access to magic and technology that slowed the aging process, I was unsurprised that the oyabun had it, as well. He was dressed in a fine suit in a traditional style, which was only fitting since there were two ceremonies of great formality that he needed to accomplish this evening.

As I bowed in greeting, an acknowledgement that I was a guest in another lord’s home, the man smiled. “They told me you were respectful when offered respect, and mindful of the old ways, while not being bound by them. I am pleased to see that what I was told is reflected in reality. As you no doubt have guessed, this is Saeki-san, my trusted lieutenant, and Tatsumi-chan, my beloved granddaughter.”

“Jiji!”

The oyabun just laughed at the granddaughter’s outburst. No doubt, she didn’t like being introduced as ‘chan’, despite it being her grandfather doing the introductions. Probably, he was the only one who could get away with it, especially in a formal setting like this.

I smiled, and nodded with respect to each of them in turn. “Lord Inagawa, I am pleased to have this opportunity to attend the wedding and ascension of one of your kin. But, before the ceremonies are to begin, there is one last step to complete the enchantment on the wedding gift you commissioned me to make, one that requires your granddaughter’s cooperation to finalize.”

“Wedding gift?” The granddaughter spoke, out of turn, “Jiji, what did you do?”

“Oh ho ho. You did not expect that I would allow my favorite granddaughter to get married without giving her something to commemorate the occasion, did you? Especially since, with your marriage, you are being elevated in the organization?” The oyabun turned to smile at me. “Please, Akagawa-dono, proceed with the presentation, so that my impatient granddaughter can see her gift.”

Chapter 27 – Presentation

With a slight bow of my head, I stretched out one hand, sticking it into my dimensional storage. From it, I drew the sheathed sword, and held it in both hands for the granddaughter to see. “Your grandfather commissioned me to forge you a blade worthy of a king. I can say, without false pride or exaggeration, that this blade is a gift that even the shoguns and emperors of old would weep in joy to receive.”

Holding the sword at an angle to show off the saya and the hilt of the blade, I said, “This blade is Named. In time, it will become a blade of legend, like the Honjō Masamune or Kusanagi-no-Tsurugi. I say this without embellishment, because it is fact. This blade, Chionomu Sakura, is unlike any sword in the world.”

I extended my hands, offering the sword to Tatsumi. “No blood shall stain this blade, nor its fittings, even if you wade through rivers of your enemies’ blood. Any nick, any scratch that the blade suffers will be healed as it drinks in blood. Indeed, even should the blade shatter, it will be remade if fed enough blood. But this is just the beginning of what I have made.”

With due reverence, the granddaughter took the sword in both hands. As she drew the blade, on one side was engraved my mark, and the Name of the blade, and the other held the message her grandfather requested be added to the blade. Resting the back of the blade against her arm, she admired the polish, nodding slowly. “I’ve only seen blades like this in museums, or in anime.”

A small smile graced my face. “An anime would be more true to the reality of the blade you hold. As I said, the blood-drinking is only part of what the blade can do. But before I get into everything the blade can do, first, you must bind it to yourself.”

“Bind it? How?”

“Give this sword the first taste of blood it has known since its forging. Your blood. Offer your blood to the blade, and its full power will respond to you, and you alone. It will respond to your will, and your mana, but for any other, it will be no more or less than a finely crafted steel sword, that just so happens to heal itself with blood. Only upon your death will the blade be able to bond to another.”

The woman nodded. No sign of unease or disquiet at the blade needing blood to bind itself to her. She was a warrior, that much was certain. “How much blood will it need?”

“Not much. Simply cutting your hand will suffice.”

She nodded again, and reached up to grab the blade’s edge with her left-hand, her off-hand, and squeezed. The only sign of pain or discomfort she allowed herself was a slight gritting of the teeth as blood began to seep through her fingers, before getting drawn in by the blade. The next moment, an aura of blood-red light shone around her, and her hair blew back as if she were standing in a maelstrom that existed for her, and her alone.

In truth, the power was like a maelstrom, but it soon began to settle, as the binding went about its work. I nodded slowly as I watched the magic flow through her. What was happening to her, now, was not unlike the mana strengthening I had shown off to some students, just after my return, though with a slightly more controlled effect.

Slowly, the light faded away, and Tatsumi brought her hand away from the blade, and looked at it. There was no wound, as I knew there wouldn’t be, and not even the trace of a scar. “Well done, young one. The blade is yours, and, now, you can already feel the first effects.”

“I feel, strong. Stronger than I’ve ever been!”

“That is because you are. The saya is enchanted so that it cannot be harmed by normal means, but it will also grant you an oni’s strength and vitality. You will find your strength grow to twice its current level, and anything you do to improve the base, will further improve this enhancement. Also, no nonmagical disease can touch you, and though your flesh will still feel like normal, it shall be as hard as iron.”

Tatsumi goggled at the thought. “All this from the saya alone?” I understood her amazement. After all, that alone would be something any warrior would prize above all measure. Being able to hit harder was straightforward enough, but immunity to all natural diseases? That was far from normal!

“Yes, that is the enchantment on the saya, courtesy of an oni summoned and sent against me by your rivals. After I defeated the oni, I used the ashes from his bones mixed with diamond dust to make the enchantment. Even in the other world, such enchantments were rare, due to the fact that it would require reducing a demon to dust without contaminating the dust with aspected mana. As you can imagine, such a feat is not easy to accomplish, especially as demons are particularly unamused by the procurement process, and are not at all cooperative with it.”

That won a grin from Tatsumi, so I continued. “The blade itself is enchanted with the essence of necromancy, using the souls of those who accompanied the oni. By channeling your mana into the blade, you can make it so that, for a short time, it cuts not physical matter, but the soul. No armor or shield will defend against the attack, unless they have been specially enchanted to guard against incorporeal foes.”

By now, the entire room was hanging on my every word. “But the most interesting power this blade has is that it is vampiric. Every living soul it cuts, it transfers a portion of their life essence to the wielder, healing them of their wounds. If you slay someone with the blade, you will add their life force to your own, extending your life. If you kill enough, then you will remain young and beautiful and strong forever, making you effectively immortal.”

The oyabun bowed his head to me, as did his lieutenant. They had the good sense to know the implications of what I had bestowed upon Tatsumi, and the way that it would tie the organization to me. It was more, far more, than the commission had been, and it would put the Inagawa-kai heavily in my debt. However, they could not refuse the gift, not without losing face.

Tatsumi, on the other hand, looked as though she had been turned to stone. I doubted whether she was even aware at how her jaw was hanging open. No, her mind was probably far more occupied with attempting to process everything I’d just told her.

That was not unusual. In fact, it was the common reaction to those mortals who had the prospect of immortality not just offered, but literally given to them before they even knew what it was. There were some similarities when talking about the various sentient undead, but, really, only vampires were truly similar, and even then, only those who were turned in their sleep. Simply put, dying, and then being brought back as an immortal undead was different from a living, mortal being getting blessed, or cursed, with immortality.

And yes, immortality could be a curse. I was only a few decades old, but even so, I had already faced the prospect of those I knew growing old and dying around me, while I remained the same. Forty years in the other world was a long time. By the time I left, there was not a single ruler on the continent who had been on the throne when I was summoned. Some of them had not even been born, yet!

When I returned, I saw my mother and father had grown older. My brother had already had children, and I had a younger sister who had not even been born when I was summoned away. But, as an immortal undead, I knew that, unless someone managed to kill me, I would still be around when even their bones had worn away to dust.

Actually, my ‘curse’ was less serious than the curse of immortality would be for Tatsumi. As an undead, I could not have children. Tatsumi was different. She was still human, still mortal. She could have children. And she would outlive them, every last one. She would outlive her children, and her children’s children, and her children’s children’s children.

That kind of knowledge was academic, now, but she would come to learn it truly, in time. And time is what Immortals had in abundance. The only way she could avoid this fate was if she gave up on immortality, severing her connection to the blade, and allowing an heir to take it up, and gain the curse in turn.

That sounded simple enough, right? But things were never so simple or clean. Life was like a drug. There’s a reason why, when someone looked for people to fight and die, they looked for the young, the dumb, and those too desperate to have a choice. It was human nature to scrap and scrabble as fast and as hard as they you can to get even the slimmest chance of survival.

Turning your back on all of that, and embracing death? That was not something a normal, well-adjusted person could do. Someone who was young (at least in body), and healthy, and lacking for nothing? You would have a better chance of finding a politician who was as noble and pure as they portrayed to the public.

No, this gift I had given her would be a double-edged sword. Eventually, as a mortal dragging life on to an immortal scale, without the mental and soul changes that happened with becoming an undead or a similar type of creature, she would be forced to change, or become twisted. The risk of losing touch with what made her human was very real.

Fortunately for her, she would have someone who could help guide her through the pitfalls of immortality. Someone who could give her a primer on how immortality actually worked, and give her a clue on how to change and still keep her core self intact. Someone who could advise her on when it was time to let go, and embrace the end. Someone like me.

Tatsumi met my gaze, and bowed, clutching the sword to her breast. I ignored the fact that she was trying to fight back tears at the size of the gift. When she opened her mouth to speak, I simply shook my head. “Your grandfather commissioned me to forge a sword unlike any in this world, fit for one who would use it as intended. You should give your thanks to him, and to the rivals who sent raw materials to finalize the enchantments.”

Finally, the oyabun spoke up. “Indeed, I asked for a sword unlike any other, and you have gone over and above what I had expected. Beyond paying for the work of a master craftswoman, I thought only of the sentimental value of a gift to my favorite granddaughter. Instead, you have furnished a blade worthy of an empress. As leader of the Inagawa-kai, I welcome you as a friend of the clan.”

I bowed, and was about to respond, but was cut off by the building shaking. An earthquake? No. That was an explosion! Someone was attacking the building!

Instantly, the atmosphere changed. Guards rushed into the room. Tatsumi slid the saya into her belt, and held her sword in hand. And more than a few firearms were produced, despite this not being America.

Not wishing to be outdone, I reached into my pocket dimension, and retrieved my staff. With one hand, I shifted my outfit so that I was now dressed in my royal regalia again, as the Lich Queen of Risen Athelia. Looking to the oyabun, I said, “My lord, as a friend, perhaps you will allow me the honor to throw out these unwelcome visitors, along with your granddaughter, to show your enemies what our friendship means?”

The oyabun just nodded, once, and said, “Just ensure that there is nothing too damning that the police might see when they come to take the bodies away, yes?”

Chapter 28 – Assault

Tatsumi was listening to her radio as we moved towards the stairs. The explosion had already knocked out the elevators, setting off the safety mechanisms in place to deal with earthquakes. That meant that our prey would be advancing up the stairs. So, to meet them, we only needed to go down.

“The swine destroyed the checkpoint on the twenty-first floor! Both the North and South staircases, heading up! Surveillance says there are at least a hundred of them, all heavily armed.”

I nodded slowly, and removed the ring that suppressed my aura as I strode to the southern stairwell. Opening the door, I could see men coming up the stairs, already to the twenty-second floor, it looked like. With a wave of my hand, I placed a barrier of black flames at the top of the stairs.

These soulflames were something of a specialty of mine, for dealing with the living. Burning the soul, but leaving the rest unscathed, they were perfect for warding areas against the living, or in acquiring suitable raw materials for undead fodder to use in my armies. At my command, the black flames began flowing downward, like liquid death, filling the stairwell and descending down towards the ground level. That would hold the enemy, keep them from coming up behind us to try and kill the oyabun while we dealt with the rest.

I turned back to the yakuza princess, appraising her as we walked to the northern stairwell. “Excellent. Now, tell me, Lady Tatsumi, how much experience do you have with a blade? Combat experience, not exhibition or sparring at the dojo.”

“In single combat, I’ve killed six men, and thirty more in group fights. I have been training with the sword since I was a child.”

I raised my evaluation of the yakuza princess a few points. Not put out by the question, and didn’t try to embellish anything. Yes, that was workable.

“Very well. I will move first, and pass a foe to you. Dispatch them to gain their vitality, and then, if you are injured, the blade will use what vitality you’ve saved to heal your wounds. There is a safety feature in it so that it cannot drain you of your own vitality.”

Tatsumi nodded. “I understand. Once I have that to fall back on, I can take more risks in attacking the rest of the enemies, yes?”

“Exactly.” I couldn’t help but smile, or I would have if I was still wearing my human guise. “Really, you should give thanks to your rivals for aiding in your ascension this way. They have sent so many souls to fuel your power. Once you have been empowered, I will step back, and allow you to handle the others, stepping in only if you are being overwhelmed.”

Tatsumi smiled. The girl would not have risen so far, so fast, in a world dominated by men with conservative attitudes, even with her grandfather’s aid, if she were slow on the uptake or ignorant of the possibilities. Allowing her to take the lead in fighting off the attack would let her cement her place in the clan, once and for all. None would be able to argue with her ascendance.

“And what do you get from this, Lady Akagawa?”

“Good, you realize that there is more than the moment. Remember, once the blade you hold has tasted the souls of your enemies, you will rise from the ranks of the merely mortal to something more. Not a true immortal, as your life can still be worn down, and not an undead, like myself. You will be human, but ageless while your stores of stolen life endure.

“As a nascent quasi-immortal, you must look to the future. Time, the one resource that most humans lack, with their all-too-fleeting lifetimes, is something you will have in abundance, if you do not fall prey to overconfidence, and the false belief that none can overcome you. That way lies overconfidence and true death.”

We had just gotten to the twenty-third floor landing, and found the rival yakuza pushing upwards. More were attempting to push their way out of the twenty-first and twenty-second floor landings, no doubt those who had been on the south stairwell. A gun fired, the bullet bouncing off my shield, as one of the men noticed me.

I had to force back a sigh. These fools were clearly unaccustomed to fighting mages. Massed numbers could work, but only if you could bring them to bear. In a stairwell like this? You may as well just slit your own throat. Actually, that would be more useful, as death magic could be very potent.

As it stood, however, they could have had ten thousand times their number, and they would never have even scratched me before I wiped their souls from existence. It was a simple consideration that even the most novice RPG player would understand. Simply put, bunching up in large groups was bad when you were facing those with Area of Effect spells.

Still, I didn’t want to just wipe them all out at the start. The point of this little venture wasn’t to slaughter the enemy herself. After all, if I killed them all, then it would do nothing to empower Tatsumi.

So, instead, I simply conjured a hand of necrotic power to snatch up the closest of the invaders by the throat, and throw him at Tatsumi’s feet. To her credit, the woman did not even hesitate. The moment the enemy lay before her, her blade was already in motion. The katana sang with magic as it cut through the air, killing the man instantly.

Blood sprayed from the wounds, but it was all absorbed by the blade, even as the shocked yakuza looked on. It was a little faster than I had intended, but that was fine. The blade was newborn, and was no doubt parched. It would drink deep tonight.

At the same time, a glow passed from the fallen yakuza, up into the sword. The man’s body looked as though it had been dead for a couple days, though, thankfully, it did not have that lovely ‘three-day corpse’ smell. The glow passed up the sword, and into Tatsumi, making her look healthier, more alive, more real than she had before. Proof that the enchantment worked as intended.

I placed a hand upon Tatsumi’s shoulder, and surrounded her in a warding that would protect her from bullets. “Now go, ascendant lady of the Inugami-kai. Your enemies are gathered before you. And Chionomu Sakura thirsts!”

“Then she will drink deeply, ere the night is done!”

With those words, Tatsumi launched herself forward, upon the nearest invaders. Legend holds that, in feudal times, when a noble received a new katana, they would test it upon the bodies of still-living prisoners condemned to die, strung up like pigs in a row, to test its cutting power. The number of bodies the blade went through with a single slash would tell the power of a blade. So, you would hear of blades that were two- or even three-body blades.

With my own deathless eyes, I witnessed the proof that the blade which I had forged was at least a three-body blade, perhaps even a four-body! For, in a single cut, I saw three men cut down together, and another missing the arm that was holding a hatchet just a moment ago. And, as the life force left her victims, Tatsumi smiled.

I watched as she fell upon the men like a typhoon. No bullet touched her, thanks to my spell, but blades and clubs? Those were unaffected by the barrier.

The first time one of the men managed to get his blade up in time to strike at Tatsumi, catching her across the face? I could see in the enemy how they all breathed easier, knowing that her protection was not absolute. Which made the resulting despair when the saw her wounds heal even as they watched, leaving not so much as a hint of a scar, all the more delicious.

And, when she redoubled her assault, the will to fight broke within them. Their mission was forgotten. There was no stopping the ceremony or avenging the humiliation I had given their clan. Their only thoughts were of surviving long enough to escape this asura that had been unleashed upon them.

But I couldn’t have that. I left a wall of soulfire behind me, to keep any rats from ‘escaping’ upwards, where they might plead for mercy from the oyabun’s guards. Then, I cast a simple levitation spell, lifting me up and over the handrail, before I began floating downward, ignoring the yakuza soldiers, even those who tried, flailingly, to strike at me. None of their weapons were of any consequence to me, after all.

On the fifteenth floor, I landed, mere steps in front of the Yakuza who had been towards the rear, and had tried to break and run. They had the look of desperate men. Perfect for what I intended.

The first screaming yakuza who tried to attack me with a machete found himself grabbed by the throat. Not by any magic, but by my own hand of magically enhanced bone. I grabbed him, and pulled him in tight, turning him around so that his back was to me. At my command, a barrier popped up, keeping any other idiots from trying the same thing.

With my hand, I forced the man’s head up, making him look at where the festival of blood was in full swing. “No, little boy. You are not going to escape. None of you will escape. The elevators are down, and both stairwells are blocked. The only escape, if you can call it that, would be to cast yourself from a window, falling to near certain death.”

I saw a ray of desperate hope flitter across a couple faces. “Oh, but do not believe that simply escaping the building that way will save you. Anyone who falls from the windows will find their bodies used as part of my army, and their souls harvested to fuel my magics. There will be no afterlife, no reincarnation, no isekai for you. Truck-kun won’t save your soul if you take the coward’s way out.”

More delicious despair and panic. “The only way any of you will survive is if you can take down either the yakuza princess or myself. I give you my word, as Lich Queen of Risen Athelia, that any of you that can take one of us down will be allowed to flee the building.” I stroked the face of my captured witness with one hand. “Don’t worry, your kouhai here will witness your pitiful deaths, and give a full accounting to your bosses.”

Two men launched themselves at my shield, only to be rebuffed. They may as well have tried to break through a brick wall, for all the good they did. “Oh, dear. Are you even trying? Perhaps you will have better luck with the princess?”

I could see the thoughts going through their heads. My reputation, by now, had spread through their organization, so they knew that my threat of desecrating their bodies and defiling their souls was legit. Seeing two of their number simply bounce off of my defenses was enough to convince them that there was no hope that way. That left only one choice, if they wanted to live.

Lady Tatsumi was still mortal, in the sense that mortal weapons could still touch her, could still harm her. But each life she took with the blade added to her own, making it harder and harder for any injuries to actually stick to her. She could probably even survive having her head cut off, if it was placed back with her body quickly enough.

Faced with absolute failure, certain death and postmortem enslavement, and a nigh-unkillable swordswoman with an enchanted blade, the members of the Sumiyoshi-kai turned and looked upwards, at the laughing Tatsumi, with the resigned expressions of those who know they are already dead. To their credit, they did not cry, or try to run. They pushed forward, hoping to wear her down. Hoping against hope that they could bring her down, or at least die with honor.

And all the while, I made my captive witness everything.

Chapter 29 – Reception

Once the slaughter was done, I sent my little messenger on his way, so that he could spread the news of what had happened to his bosses. He was probably going to have to change clothes along the way. Seems like watching all his buddies get slaughtered caused him to lose control of his bodily functions. So sad.

At any rate, with the disturbance done, there was still a wedding to take care of. Thankfully, the enchantment on Chionomu Sakura cleaned the blood away, so there were no bloodstains on Tatsumi’s clothes. A simple cantrip mended the little damage that had been done to her outfit, and another restored her hair to how it had been styled before the attack. Tatsumi thanked me for the consideration. Having to change clothes would delay the ceremony even more, after all, since she did not have an item like my ankh to change between outfits at a whim.

The wedding ceremony was done in the traditional style, of course. Which was not to say that it was a traditional wedding. I should have guessed it from the way Tatsumi was dressed, when I first saw her, wearing a man’s formal clothes, but this wedding was not giving her a husband, but a wife.

This was as much a surprise, considering the conservative nature of the yakuza, as Tatsumi’s ascension in the organization. I did not care either way, really. Sex and sexuality were academic concepts to me, after so long being undead. I understood them, of course, and knew how they could be used to further my goals, or to impede my rivals, but, even when I wore my human guise, I felt nothing like that, and had not since I became a lich.

There were some undead that kept their sexuality and sex drive in undeath, of course. Those were, for the most part, creatures like Vampires, or some particularly aware wights and ghouls. But for most undead, even those with physical bodies, sex was not a part of our makeup, not any more.

Oh, there were cases of undead pursuing someone, of course. But it was not romantic in nature, despite what the stories might say. No, the mummy king that sought to capture a maiden to serve as his queen was not being romantic, or even caring about sex, he was doing it because of power, and control, because a queen could help balance the energies present in his tomb complex, and enhance their magics.

Even when an undead took a creature expressly for sex, it was rarely any kind of romantic attraction or physical urge that drove them. Some ghouls would take members of the sex that had attracted them in life, and force them to service them in death, but that was not about attraction or lust, but control and sadism. It was about power, pure and simple. Since ghouls were not renowned for their power, when compared with other undead like liches, taking pleasure in their power over those they could dominate was soothing to their egos.

No, other than Vampires, or some corporeal undead that kept more of their sense of self in the conversion from living to dead to undead, most of the time when an undead engaged in sexual acts, and it wasn’t due to sadistic power plays, it was actually the mortal’s idea. Whether a necromancer engaging in rituals, a deviant indulging in their fetish, or a grieving lover who couldn’t let go, mortals were more likely to initiate sex with any undead than the other way around. My teacher, before I became undead, had made certain I knew about some of the potent rituals that could only be performed by a necromancer in congress with undead under her control. It was disturbing, at the time, but by this point it was just a piece of data.

At any rate, I was happy to be introduced to Tatsumi’s new wife, Miwa. Actually, it was probably better this way. She was going to become far more powerful than people would expect. If she had to deal with a husband, and the potential for his male ego wilting under the fact that she was his superior in every way, that could cause problems. But for another woman, there wouldn’t be the same pressure to be the ‘powerful one’ in the relationship.

After the ceremony, at the reception, I found myself speaking with Miwa, while Tatsumi was required to speak with some of the clan regarding her new position. To my delight, I found that Miwa was a rather grounded sort, as one would expect from a baker. Apparently, Tatsumi was a regular at her store, and their relationship had blossomed over time.

“Lady Akagawa, I—”

I cut her off. “No, my child. By the will of the oyabun, I am a friend to the clan, and I have a feeling that Tatsumi and I shall be speaking often, as she grows in power, both from her own efforts, and thanks to the power of the blade she now wields. When it is just us, in a private setting, you may call me Akagawa-san, at least until we get to know each other better.”

The nervous woman took a breath, and relaxed slightly. “Thank you, Akagawa-san. Actually, it is about the gift you made for my Tatsumi. She told me a little of what it does. Is it true that she is going to become immortal?”

I could hear the tremor in her voice, and knew exactly what that was about. “After a sense. Immortality is both a blessing and a curse. Humans were not meant to live forever. The blade I forged her offers a false immortality. It does not eliminate aging and death, but rather stops them in their tracks, so long as she has life force that she has taken from others. If it runs out, she will age as normal, until it is replenished, and then it will halt once more.”

“I understand. What does this mean for me? For us?”

I nodded slowly. “Yes, I expected this question. The simple answer is that it will depend on the two of you. Tell me, Miwa-san, what do you want in life?”

She breathed deeply, and said, “I want to be with Tatsumi. To grow old with her. To live alongside her, and be her strength as she is mine. I knew that a normal life was out of the question, with Tatsumi being who she is, but I wouldn’t change her for anything.”

I smiled at her. “You knew there would be challenges going into the relationship, but, now that you’re here, you realize the challenges are perhaps a bit more complicated than you knew?”

“Yes.”

“And you are still determined to push forward?”

“Yes.”

“That is good. Then, I will tell you some good news. Tatsumi will change, but only in the normal ways that people change over time, as they progress through time, and learn new things. Not like me, when I became an undead. She will change in human ways, with differences that can be bridged by loving partners who are willing to put in the work to maintain a relationship.”

I smiled at the young woman. “Now, obviously, your relationship will not be a normal one. You’ve already come to accept this. Your different rates of aging will be a challenge, but it is not one that can’t be overcome. And having children will help to bind the two of you together.”

She blinked. “But, we’re both women. And I don’t know about artificial means. I know adoption is an option, but how will that affect things with the clan?”

“That is between you, Tatsumi-san, and the clan. However, there are other ways. Ways for you to bear a child, between you and Tatsumi-san.”

That revelation hit her like a brick, if her stunned expression was anything to go by. “Wait, what? How is that possible? We’re both women, after all!”

“With magic, of course. This world has only barely begun learning what magic can and cannot do. I don’t doubt that, eventually, these things will come to light, but that will only be after a great deal of suffering and failed experiments, things that were long in the past in the other world.

“Simply put, there are spells and magics that can, temporarily gift someone with the ‘equipment’ of the other sex, or transform them entirely. It is all fully functional, of course. As I recall, the initial research was done by a drow matriarch who sought it as a way of dominating her lessers, forcing them to carry her children, making them vulnerable while they produced heirs for her house, rather than making herself vulnerable while she was with child. The magics were later refined, and became a favorite of royals and nobles who had a duty to their people to produce an heir, but found the idea of a dalliance with the other sex repulsive.”

Miwa blinked, still stunned. “That… that sounds like something straight out of a hentai or doujinshi!”

I had to laugh at that. “Well, I can’t deny that there are certain similarities. Think of it like the old Star Trek shows predicting the technology that came before the Awakening. Cell phones, tablets, and all of that were shown on TV decades before they became a reality.”

“So, um, how would that magic work?” She was blushing now, considering the possibilities.

“It would depend on the way you wanted the spell to go. But perhaps the simplest would be a temporary charm that would temporarily grant one, or both, of you the necessary equipment, while not taking away what you already have. Options go from there, all the way up to permanently changing your body.”

“Oh. Oh my! I, um, I’ll need to think about that.”

I smiled at her. “Of course, my dear. And don’t forget to talk with Tatsumi-san when you are alone. Communication is the key to relationships, after all. And she will need someone who she can confide in, and who she knows will confide in her in turn. Especially as she starts growing into her new role and responsibilities.”

“Thank you, Akagawa-san. You’ve given me a lot to think over.”

I smiled as the bride moved to join Tatsumi, who had just finished with her clan talk. I moved through the crowd, mingling, and doing a bit of small talk. Most people didn’t recognize me in my traditional outfit, rather than the ‘lich queen’ armor. The other guests all just thought I was just some family friend, or an important associate, up until I introduced myself.

Eventually, I found myself next to the oyabun, who ‘just so happened’ to finish a conversation as I approached. He was smiling, but the smile did not reach his eyes. “Ah, Akagawa-san. I was wondering if you had any thoughts about what to do regarding the ones who sent those rude men from earlier.”

I nodded. “Ah, yes. They were quite rude to show up uninvited, even if your granddaughter put them to good use, in the end.”

That got a smile from the oyabun, so I continued, “The messenger I allowed to flee should have gotten to his masters by now. He will undoubtedly tell them about how their plan failed. Since I’ve ‘discussed’ things with them before, they are doubtless going to be a little concerned.”

“Yes, I can imagine that they would be a little concerned with you being upset with them.”

I nodded. “With that in mind, why don’t I go and have a little chat with them tonight? I will guarantee that they will not wish to have any further disagreements with you, or me. And, while I do that, perhaps you could send some of your men around to do a check on some of their men at their place of business?”

“To express our displeasure?”

“You could. Or you could simply inform them that I am going to their bosses to express my dissatisfaction, and intend on ripping up this tree, root and branch, until nothing remains. In fact, the only safe place for them would be if they were to fall under another group’s protection. A group like your own, for instance.”

Now, the smile reached the oyabun’s eyes. “Oh, my. That is certainly an interesting way of going about things. And, it would help to reduce the body count, which will make it easier to smooth over any issues the police might have with the turbulence that the changes might bring.”

“And don’t forget to offer to take on their businesses officially, as well. The men you send over could have bills of sale ready, just to ensure there is no confusion. Just tell them that they have until my forces get there to make a decision.”

The oyabun laughed at that. “I thought before that you would be a good friend of the clan, Akagawa-san, but now, I am certain of it! Please, do inform me of how your conversation with our mutual annoyances goes, will you?”

“Inagawa-san, it would be my pleasure.”

Chapter 30 – Annihilation

I waited until nightfall to make my move. Not because I had to, but because I knew that the Sumiyoshi-kai would spend time getting their enforcers on alert. If they were smart, they would have had those enforcers already in place to counter any reprisals the Inagawas would make. With my messenger reporting in, letting them know I was involved, chances were that they would try to draw some of them back, to reinforce their headquarters.

Of course, I was watching their compound through scrying while I waited for night to fall, just to make sure that no rats left the trap. I wanted them to have time to realize death was coming for them, but I was not going to let any of the leaders escape. What was about to happen was grim, certainly, but it was necessary, if I was to prove, once and for all, that it was profoundly unwise to try and use force to intrude on my affairs.

I was not going to get into the day-to-day business of the crime syndicates. I was not going to join them as an associate or anything like that. I was a friend of the clan, and that I would remain. But if I allowed an attack at an event I was attending, hosted by my friend, to go unanswered, it would make me look weak. And weakness invites people to try and take advantage of you.

As night fell, I cast the spell that I had been preparing. A black dome rose up, covering the Sumiyoshi manor and its grounds. From the outside, the dome merely blocked vision. Anyone could broadcast into the dome, and even an unprotected mortal could step through the barrier without ill effects.

If they were going into the barrier, that is.

On the inside of the barrier, things were quite different. While those outside the barrier could not see in, those inside could most certainly see out. Additionally, the barrier was quite solid, preventing all forms of escape, even by way of teleportation, astral projection, or creating dimensional gateways. All communication was cut off, whether electronic or magical. Anyone listening to the radio could still hear their music, or those trying frantically to reach anyone inside the barrier, but their responses were unheard.

I teleported just outside the barrier, in full Lich Queen mode. A wave of my hand summoned a platoon of Skeleton Warriors from my pocket dimension. But these were no mere mindless skeletons dug out of the ground and dressed in rotten armor with rusted weapons that could barely hold an edge. These were my personal creations, and part of my army, not wild undead or the works of a novice necromancer!

Each Warrior was clad in plate armor of midnight steel, so named for its black color and the way it enhanced the power of ‘dark’ creatures like Undead that wore it. The substance was nearly as strong as Mithril, yet far cheaper to obtain, and working it was no different from working normal steel. The only reason it was not used more often was because the process of making midnight steel cursed the armor, making it so that any living creature to wear it would gradually sicken, die, and then be raised by the armor into undeath. Because of that, it was useless as an armor material, unless you were a necromancer leading an army of the damned.

You could tell the Warrior’s rank by their armor, for the higher in rank they rose, the more highlights were added to the black of their armor. A mindless undead might not care about such things, but my army was not mindless. They may have all been bound to my service eternally, but they were still thinking beings, and a cosmetic indicator of rank appealed to many.

The privates had armor that was unadorned, the only color being the silver-white of the symbol of Risen Athelia emblazoned upon the shields of those who carried them. Corporals were much the same, with only a bronze circlet fitted over their helm to show the difference. For a sergeant, the circlet was still bronze, but the right pauldron of his armor was emblazoned with a brass skull. With lieutenants, the circlet and skull became silver, and the theme continued on throughout the ranks.

In my legion, a platoon’s weapons were divided up by squads. Two squads, numbering twelve privates and a corporal each, and a sergeant over both of them, armed with spears and shields, with short swords as backup weapons, following the style of the phalanx of old. One warrior of each squad was a banner bearer, replacing their spear and shield with a banner displaying the colors of Risen Athelia. These were the backbone of the platoon, able to take and hold ground with the inexorable weight of an undead tide advancing upon the enemy. More than one enemy force fled at the sight of my legion advancing, shields locked and spears at the ready.

One squad was armed with heavier, two-handed weapons, an even mix of greatswords, two-handed mauls, and battleaxes that would cleave a man in two. This squad was smaller than the others, at eight Warriors and their corporal stong, but their job was to break through an enemy’s shield wall, opening their defenses for the legion to push through. They were often deployed in twos or threes throughout the line.

The final squad was armed with twin scimitars as melee weapons, but their primary weapon was a longbow. Twelve strong, and with a corporal and sergeant to lead them, this force provided ranged support, and also acted as scouts for the platoon. They carried magic items that deadened the sound of their approach, allowing them to move silently as death, if they chose to.

Above them all was a lieutenant, ordering the platoon and directing them where they needed to go. Armed with a bastard sword and an iron staff capable of launching a magebolt, they were capable fighters in their own right, but they were truly devastating with their full platoon around them. Indeed, a lieutenant’s sword or the flash of their stave was the last thing many of my enemies ever saw in life, before they rose to join the legion that had just slayed them.

Once the platoon had formed up, I stood at their back, looking into the compound. I was sure that all eyes were on me. That was as it should be. After all, one should always look death in the eye as it comes for you.

“Go forth, my legion! Leave none alive!”

And, with a roar, my legion obeyed.

(Later)

Detective Hisakawa Miyu sighed as she leaned back against the seat of her car. The last twelve hours had been hell. The yakuza clans, which were normally good about keeping any infighting behind the scenes, had apparently gone to war. She didn’t know the reasons for the war, but she did know that it was completely ruining her Friday night. Well, Saturday morning, now.

The opening moves had apparently been the Sumiyoshi clan going and attacking a building that was owned by the Inagawa clan. Some said that the building was their headquarters. Normally, that wouldn’t matter to her. She was homicide, not vice or syndicate task force. But, tonight? It was all hands on deck, so here she was.

The Inagawas had met the fifty men that the Sumiyoshis sent, and, apparently, killed them all. That much wasn’t entirely a shock, since it was their home ground, after all, but the story was that they did it all without taking a single casualty after the initial surprise attack! That kind of thing was almost unheard of, outside of anime!

And then there was the scene, itself. She’d heard from her friend, who was one of the officers that worked the scene, that there were bodies, and parts of bodies, everywhere, all apparently made by a sword. All of the bodies were in a single stairwell. Why had the Sumiyoshis all crowded in that stairwell? Why had they rushed headlong into a blender? There wasn’t any indication that they ever broke, or tried to flee, even as they were getting slaughtered.

Some people were saying that they had to be on drugs, and sent in on a suicide mission. Miyu wasn’t so sure. According to her friend, the bodies that could be identified were all of known Sumiyoshi enforcers. Trusted soldiers, not disposable fodder. Not the kind of people you’d just throw away on a whim.

That was just the start of things. Members of the Inagawa clan had hit several Sumiyoshi businesses. Strangely, most of the hits did not involve any fighting, beyond a brief exchange between the guards, if that. Almost like the Inagawas were sending a warning, rather than responding to an attack on their headquarters.

Whatever. So long as the syndicates weren’t killing each other in the street, and drawing innocent civilians into the mix, then it wasn’t her problem. Of course, her current location meant that the Inagawa reaction was just a feint for something bigger.

She’d been tasked to go, with two officers as backup, to the residence of the leader of the Sumiyoshi clan, in Setagaya, on an observe and report. Neighbors had reported a black barrier appearing around the building earlier in the night, just after nightfall, in fact. Some of the reports mentioned an army in the street, and it marching into the barrier. One even claimed they saw the Returned Sleeper leading the army!

When they arrived, well, the barrier was most certainly still there. They tried calling, both with phones and radios, trying to get someone inside the barrier to answer, but they got nothing. One of the officers even tried a bullhorn, for all the good it did.

Collectively, the three of them agreed that, without permission from the property owner, they were not going to risk their lives trying to break through a barrier. Instead, they called Dispatch and asked for the meiji keikan, the mage cops, to deal with it. Their captain agreed with them, but asked for them to remain outside the barrier and keep watch. Ostensibly, it was to prevent any innocent civilians from wandering into the barrier by mistake, but they all knew it was so that they would be in place, in case whatever was going on spilled out into the streets.

The mage cops showed up, took one look at the barrier, and backed away, refusing to even try and dismantle it. Miyu knew why, the instant she saw their faces. It was the same look she’d seen on bomb disposal officers one time when someone had decided to make a bomb incorporating magically enhanced FOOF. When a bomb scares people whose business it is to disarm bombs for a living, you know it is bad news. The mage cops had that same look on their faces.

It was now almost midnight. According to the syndicate task force, the Sumiyoshi leadership had been out of contact with the rest of their organization and their allies ever since the barrier went up. Word on the street was that the Lich Queen had been attending the wedding of the Inagawa leader’s granddaughter when the Sumiyoshis attacked, and took personal offense at the action. Apparently, the Inagawas were now spreading the news that the only Sumiyoshis that would be safe from the coming purge were those that switched sides to join other organizations, or surrendered to the police, for the protection of the prison system.

Just as she was looking forward to the prospect of her relief showing up in the next fifteen minutes and allowing her to go home, the black shield suddenly shattered with a sound that was more felt than heard. Quickly, she turned to look at the area the barrier had covered. Then, she slapped her cheeks, trying to rouse herself, because she was clearly still asleep. But what she saw didn’t change.

Where the Sumiyoshi mansion had been, there was nothing but a large hole in the middle of a dirt lot. Not a trace of the expensive home was left. Even the foundation was gone! It was as though some giant had reached down and plucked the house out of the ground like a farmer pulling his harvest! Worse, even, was the fact that there was no trace of any living thing on the lot, not even a blade of grass.

The most disturbing part, however, was that there were also no bodies, or any sign of the people who had been on the property only hours before. No one had seen anyone leave. There had to have been over one hundred people, perhaps as many as two hundred, on the property, even before the ‘army’ showed up. All of them were now missing, as though they’d never existed.

In the entire lot, the only landmark was a wooden sign by the edge of the hole where the main house used to be. The message was written in perfect kanji, in what looked suspiciously like blood. One look at the sign was all Miyu needed to decide that she had made the right choice in not trying to get through that barrier.

THEY CHOSE POORLY.

Epilogue – Elsewhere

Four individuals met in a darkened room. No names were shared. Those who knew about this meeting already knew who the other attendees were. There was no need for introductions.

Each individual represented a faction of power. While they were not the nominal heads of their factions, what was decided in this chamber would be carried out. One way or another.

On an unseen signal, the political representative took a breath. “It is now the appointed time. What is the news from the city?”

The military representative shook his head. “My contacts in the police have confirmed that the Sumiyoshi-gumi has been effectively wiped out as an organization. Everything above street-level operations has been interrupted, the people responsible for those operations either disappearing, dying, or selling out to rival organizations for protection. At the street level, the remnants of the organization are either being taken over by rival groups, or are going independent, forming their own, smaller syndicates and gangs.”

“Is there any concern of instability there?”

“Not yet, but potentially so in the future. My contact says that the aftermath is essentially the same as they would see after a normal collapse of a clan due to infighting or external forces. However, there has been far less bloodshed than would be normal for such circumstances, which has made it easy for things to be swept under the rug. At the moment, everyone is too busy adjusting to the new territories up for grabs. It will take some time before heads start butting again.”

“Will that cause problems with the press later?”

“No, local stations were informed of incidents on the police reports, and those incidents that spilled out into public were treated as gang violence. Not unusual. The reporters’ own sources are reporting the fall of the Sumiyoshi, but details are sparing, as neither the Inagawa-kai or the Anomaly are talking.”

“Very well.” The political representative turned to the intelligence representative. “Have your sources discovered anything more about the inciting incident?”

“Yes. As you know, the events began with the Sumiyoshis attacking the Inagawa headquarters during clan ceremonies before the oyabun’s granddaughter was to be married. The Sumiyoshis are on record disparaging the Inagawas for allowing women in their ranks. The clan ceremonies were to mark the granddaughter’s rise to the number three position in the operational power structure of the clan.”

“So, it was an attack on the Inagawas by the Sumiyoshis?”

“Yes. The Anomaly was present, as her company was commissioned to form a present for the granddaughter, a katana. It is likely to be a magic item, at least in parity with the one she made for the British.”

“What makes you say that?”

“The Anomaly and the granddaughter went to deal with the attackers, meeting them in a stairwell. Forty-nine of fifty men were killed, their bodies being clearly marked as having been cut by a sword. According to the sole survivor of the attacking force, the Anomaly made him watch as the granddaughter slaughtered the entire attacking force in melee combat.

“When it was done, she was unwounded, and not a speck of blood stained her clothes, despite it liberally painting the walls of the stairwell, with clear voids where it must have sprayed her. There was not enough time for her to change her clothes or style her hair to be the same as it was. Something about that sword not only kept her from injury, but also made it so that no mark of the slaughter touched her.”

The military representative shook his head. “There is no way that a mortal being, however skilled, could accomplish something like that. It would probably be better to consider the sword like unto one of the mythological swords of the past, like the Ama-no-Murakumo.”

The political representative nodded. “And then, after the wedding, the Anomaly dropped out of sight for a few hours. Right before the Sumiyoshi compound was enclosed by a barrier.”

“Yes. We know it was the Anomaly’s doing, but the only eyewitnesses were intoxicated enough that no judge would give a warrant for their arrest. And there was no evidence left behind.”

The science representative leaned forward. “Actually, I can speak to some of that. Without being able to observe the barrier directly, it is impossible to say if there was anything different about it, but that isn’t important, anyway. First, all buildings were removed by magic. Probably some form of spatial magic sending them into a pocket dimension, like the storage spell the Anomaly uses for their staff.”

The political representative nodded once. “I assume that would explain why the hole under the main house was taking out just the basement levels, and not scooping out a crater?”

“Yes, every building, tree, bush, and vehicle on the property was swept away somewhere, along with all the people. None of the dirt or earth was removed. Whether that is a technical limitation of the spell, or evidence of their finesse with the magics is impossible to say, though I would lean towards the second option.”

“Agreed.” “Agreed.” “Agreed.”

The science representative continued. “Now, while we understand the basics of what the Anomaly did, unfortunately the exact mechanics of it are beyond our comprehension at the moment. Power outlays aside, their paradigm of magic is too foreign to our own to be of any use to us in its particulars. That said, the theories and base mechanics could be adapted to the more scientific style of magic we use, if we had a grounded enough understanding of what was going on.”

The political representative nodded once. “And where are we on that point?”

“Two suitable candidates have been identified and vetted from the short list, with the help of the intelligence representative’s people. They are both registered necromancers, and are willing to work with us. I will let my colleague continue.”

“Yes,” the intelligence representative said. “If you’ll open the sealed folders before you, you will see the brief outline of Operation: Death Note, as well as the dossiers of our two finalists. As stated, both have been screened and vetted discretely, and they are both knowledgeable enough in magic to be a possible student to the Anomaly, as well as malleable enough in their views that they could be taught by the Anomaly. Both the dossiers have the candidates’ background, as well as a potential cover story we can put into place, if needed. Either one or both of the candidates would be a good fit for this mission.”

“Very well,” the political representative said. “Let us see what we’re dealing with.”

Dramatis Personae

Akagawa Family

Akagawa Kaori – The Archlich, the Lord of the Dead, Lich Queen of Risen Athelia, Hopebringer, Demon’s Bane, the Dark Hero. Forcibly summoned to another world along with her class, she became a lich in order to survive an assassination attempt by the Demon King. After the Demon King’s demise, she returned to her world.

Akagawa Teiljo – Kaori’s father. Head of the Akagawa Company. Also father of Tatsuo and Eri.

Akagawa Kanon – Kaori’s mother. Wife of Teiljo. Also mother of Tatsuo and Eri.

Akagawa Tatsuo – Kaori’s younger brother. Currently an executive at the Akagawa Company, and heir apparent to take over. Father of Genjo, Teika, and Kaori (younger).

Akagawa Hiroko – Tatsuo’s wife. Former in-house counsel for the Akagawa company. Mother of Genjo, Teika, and Kaori (younger).

Akagawa Genjo – Nineteen when Kaori returned from the other world. Currently studying in university.

Akagawa Teika – Fifteen when Kaori returned from the other world. Currently attending private school.

Akagawa Kaori (younger) – Five when Kaori returned from the other world.

Akagawa Eri – Kaori’s younger sister. Currently working on her thesis for a Doctorate of Thaumaturgy at the University of Seattle.

Officials

Marcus Fairchild – Captain and commander of the Seattle Police Department’s Magical Containment Unit, which is essentially like a SWAT team for magical threats.

Koyama Shijo – An official with Japan’s Magical Affairs Department, though his actual work is as a liaison to the military and intelligence services.

Friends/Associates

Lilah Morgan – A human turned into a Demon during the Awakening, working for the law firm Wolfram & Hart. She has been retained as Kaori’s attorney.

Holly Gibson – Hired by Lilah Morgan on behalf of Kaori to serve as her PR spokeswoman and coordinator. Based in Seattle, but works for a company with headquarters in Japan.

Kaspar Oesau – Head of Research and Development at Phantomline. Involved in the project to create CADs useable by magical creatures, as well as the mass-produced focus project.

Nagai Tatsumi – Granddaughter of the oyabun of the Inagawa-kai yakuza clan. Currently third in command of the organization. Wielder of the enchanted blade Chionomu Sakura. Married to wife Miwa, a baker.

Athelian Arms

Asari Hisa – Kaori’s personal secretary/aide. Hired from a local talent pool in Tokyo, she is eager to learn, and an efficient worker.

Miyano Hideo – The office manager at Athelian Arms. He is responsible for the day-to-day operations of the studio, and sourcing materials.

Eto Shiro – He is a woodworker, specializing in traditional Japanese styles.

Dennis Kant – Nephew of Isaak Kant, one of her classmates who was summoned to the other world. He is a master blacksmith, and his family has been running a traditional blacksmith shop for generations.

Karasu Sawao and Kinu – Husband and wife metalworkers and jewelry makers. Sawao favors larger, more solid pieces, while Kinu handles delicate pieces and detail work.

Further Reading

Be sure to read my published works!

Frozen Soul series (Sci-Fi Supervillain story):

Frozen Soul –

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B071R125QT

Tales of the Void Traveler - https://www.amazon.com/dp/B06ZZ52G37

Memoirs of a Supervillain - https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07R9NWS8J

Rules-Free VRMMO Life (Dark Fantasy GameLit):

Volume 1 - https://www.amazon.com/dp/B071VPRNDB

Omnibus 1 - https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0774T354X

Complete 1-20 - https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07R5CHNNP

Into the Black (Sci-Fi GameLit):

Book I - Game Start https://www.amazon.com/dp/B071LT5WGL

Omnibus I - Books 1-4 https://www.amazon.com/dp/B077X2KR7Y

City of Champions Online (Superhero GameLit):

Issue I - Origin Stories https://www.amazon.com/dp/B075SHXQS1

Lewd Dungeon (Dungeon Core GameLit):

Book 1 - Welcome to the Apocalypse https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07BB34DHF

Omnibus 1 - Books 1-4 https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07FBPF6HR

SCI Stories (Dark Supervillain story):

Book 1 - https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07RL93VQN

Winterborn (Dark Fantasy LitRPG):

Book 1 - https://www.amazon.com/dp/B082S3S3K8

Dark Fate (Postapocalyptic GameLit):

Book 1 - https://www.amazon.com/dp/B086S35WZ6

The OP Lich is a Returnee (Isekai Light Novel):

Book 1 - https://www.amazon.com/dp/B094YR8JTD

The Kalipshae Affair (A First Contact Short Story): https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0739V6R6T