Matthias could feel the presence of the lich long before it reached his borders. The reason he could sense the lich surprised even him, and it put a smile on his face as he readied himself. The sensation was not hostile or invasive, but sharp and focused—like a blade honed to a single purpose. It was not mana he felt, nor malice, but intent. Clear, desperate intent.

  This would be the first time he interacted with someone outside his dungeon. The thought carried a weight he had not expected. Dungeons were insular by nature. They fought, they expanded, they consumed—but they rarely spoke. Even envoys were intermediaries, layers removed from true contact. This, however, was direct.

  The next thing to surprise him was that the lich had brought only five undead with him. Matthias was almost insulted, but then reminded himself that there had probably never been a being like himself in a long while. From the lich’s perspective, this was likely overwhelming force. Reputation, after all, mattered more than numbers.

  Slapping his cheeks once to psych himself up, Matthias moved to the edge of his influence with but a thought and a step to await his guest. The swamp around him responded instinctively, the air growing warmer and heavier with life. Insects buzzed, unseen birds called, and the ground itself seemed to pulse faintly beneath his feet.

  It did not take long for Xalt to come into view. He floated, surrounded by large undead figures wrapped in armor. Of course the armor was black, and their burning undead eyes could be seen through their visors. Each step they took left the land subtly wrong—plants wilting, insects scattering—as if the world itself recoiled from their presence.

  Matthias figured most people would have been intimidated by the sight. All Matthias felt was excitement. Curiosity hummed through him, bright and irrepressible.

  "Welcome!" Matthias called out. His arms were spread wide and his face lit up with a welcoming grin. "I have been expecting you. I would have prepared more hospitality, but I am told you have long since given up the need for such pleasantries."

  "Surrender your soul to me, otherworlder," Xalt hissed from his dry and cracked beak. Yes, beak. Xalt appeared to have been some kind of bird-kin, his skull elongated and elegant even in undeath.

  "Falcon?" Matthias guessed, looking closely at the beak.

  That seemed to interrupt Xalt. "You can tell?"

  "The shape of your beak," Matthias said while squinting. He nodded to himself. "You have taken good care of yourself, even in death. That takes discipline."

  "I do try," Xalt admitted. "But that matters not. Surrender to me. You would not be the first dungeon I have forced into submission."

  "Does that ever work?" Matthias asked earnestly, concern in his eyes. Not mockery—genuine curiosity.

  "You would be surprised," Xalt chuckled dryly. "My reputation is vast."

  "We both know I can't surrender to you," Matthias pointed out.

  You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

  "Do we now?" Xalt asked, his tone sharpening.

  "Are you truly that blind?" Matthias asked. "Look at me. Really look. I am not something you can chain."

  "What game do you play?" Xalt hissed, his guards subtly shifting.

  Matthias sighed. "Are you really that used to just getting what you want? You just walk up and demand it? You bully everyone until something breaks?"

  "It is simple and leads to few misunderstandings," Xalt replied.

  "Well, this time might be a big misunderstanding on your part," Matthias said. "You know I can feel your will to live, right? It is powerful."

  Xalt laughed. "I am dead. I have a will to remain undead, not live."

  Matthias shook his head. "Oh no. You desire more time. You became a lich to live. There were no other paths forward. The core of your being craves to cling to life, even as this shadow of your former self. You chose survival over peace."

  "And why should what you feel matter?" Xalt hissed, the fires in his undead eye sockets blazing.

  "Because it lets me do this," Matthias explained.

  Threads of Bios shot out as Matthias’ influence surged forward and wrapped around Xalt and his minions. It was not violent. It was inexorable.

  Xalt went to react, then fell to the ground. There was an odd grinding and popping noise just before he collapsed to his hands and knees, the sound of old bindings being torn apart.

  Black smoke poured off Xalt as new flesh pulsed and grew where his heart had once been. Healthy flesh spread over exposed bones like nature reclaiming an old ruin. The bones shifted from cracked black to smooth white. Xalt coughed once as new lungs formed, the sensation forcing a ragged cry from his throat. Then, once all the flesh and organs were rebuilt, a new plumage of pristine feathers emerged, gleaming in the sunlight.

  The same happened to his guards, as they too held a strong desire to live. But while Xalt panted on the ground, overwhelmed by sensation, the guards shared a single look before sprinting away from Matthias’ dungeon, desperate to put distance between themselves and the newly reborn necromancer.

  "How?" Xalt raged as he slammed a fist into the ground. Then his head shot up to glare at Matthias. "How? I was long dead. No amount of magic should have been enough!"

  "You see, that is the funny thing about non-divine magic," Matthias mused. "Intent matters more than logic. Peregrine falcon—nice choice, by the way. Fast. Precise."

  "What do you mean, non-divine?" Xalt asked as he slowly rose, panting with exertion as he manually breathed for the first time in centuries. Each breath seemed both agony and miracle.

  "Undeath is just false life," Matthias said, gripping Xalt’s hand and helping him up. "It is death with purpose, or death with unfinished business. It wants to continue. I possess Bios—life with purpose. Your energies were not opposed to mine, but sympathetic. A different path to the same goal. And since what you craved was time and life, it was simple to give that to you."

  "Do you know how many rituals it will take to return to lichdom?" Xalt raged, throwing a punch at Matthias.

  Matthias let it strike his chest without flinching. He allowed the distraught man to pound weakly against him, every blow fueled by centuries of fear, until Xalt finally broke down into tears. Matthias stepped forward and wrapped his arms around him, holding him close despite the shaking.

  "I know it is hard," Matthias soothed. "You planned for eternity and were given tomorrow instead. That hurts."

  "I hate you," Xalt wheezed.

  "And that is alright too," Matthias said softly, patting him on the back. Just giving Xalt time to process.

  "I will bring ruin to the land," Xalt tried, half-heartedly, the old threat lacking conviction.

  "All things die in time," Matthias replied. "It is the struggle that gives life meaning. I do not condone the slaughter of innocents, but life finds a way. Heroes rise and fall. Monsters come and go. In the end, they all become stories. What kind you become is still up to you."

  Xalt sagged in defeat and returned the hug, clinging for just a moment longer than necessary. Then, with a final, unreadable look, he teleported away, returning to his domain.

  Matthias lingered a while longer, basking in the sunlight. The swamp breathed around him, alive and content. He felt he had done a good thing today.