As Norris was back in his abode—the cave—he wondered about the sublimated warrior he had encountered earlier. Which organization was the warrior from? What did they want?
Just then, the cave's magical detection system flared to life, alerting Norris to the presence of an intruder. The cave's wards, attuned to his magic, hummed with energy as they identified the newcomer.
Norris's senses went on high alert, and he activated the cave's defenses. The air began to charge with magical energy, causing the shadows to writhe and twist like living things.
A network of tiny, glowing runes etched into the cave walls flared to life, casting flickering patterns of light across the floor. A series of magical traps, carefully set by Norris to deter unwanted visitors, were now activated, ready to unleash a barrage of spells against any threat.
In an instant, the cave became a battleground.
A Wraith materialized before him, its ethereal form undulating as if in a wind he could not feel. Its form was like a whisper, yet it carried an undeniable weight. It stood unfazed by the spiking energy, its unblinking gaze fixed on Norris. "Greetings, Norris," it whispered, its voice a sigh on the wind. "I bear an invitation from the Noble of the Crimson Dominion, the Noble of this domain." It held out a letter, waiting patiently.
Norris eyed the Wraith warily. He wasn't about to trust a being he had just met, one who was potentially hostile.
With a quick incantation and a wave of his hand, Norris summoned a spectral hand that extended towards the Wraith, carefully taking the delicate, crimson-hued card from its grasp.
"Your... exploits have garnered attention," the Wraith continued. "The Noble wishes to discuss a mutually beneficial arrangement."
Norris examined the card, noting its intricate patterns and faint magical aura. His eyes scanned the design as he asked, "What does the Noble want from me?" He placed a deliberate emphasis on 'The Noble'. The wraith should understand the implicit challenge.
"That is for the Noble to disclose," the Wraith's whispery voice replied. "You are expected at the Crimson Dominion within three lunar cycles. Failure to attend would be... unwise."
With its task complete, the Wraith vanished into thin air, teleporting away with an eerie silence. One moment it was there, and the next, it was gone. Its silence was a confirmation.
An eerie calm fell over the environment. Alone again, Norris pondered the implications of the invitation.
The wraith had made it clear that it served the noble of these lands. Being in someone's domain while unaware was a precarious situation. Nobles and their domains were connected mystically, allowing them to roughly sense the presence of intruders, even those who covered their tracks.
"No wonder I couldn't escape, even after I covered my tracks," Norris thought. He refused to believe they had tracked him after he had cleared his traces. A pitiful delusion, perhaps.
"Now that they've revealed themselves, I have to choose: leave and venture into the unknown, or try to gather information from someone rooted here." He stretched his skeletal hands, rubbing his smooth skull. "Option one—I can either continue roaming, trusting my luck, or option two—take a risk and seek knowledge from a power that's firmly established in this realm."
The Wraith's presence was a stark reminder of what Norris was dealing with. The so-called Noble was a sublimated being.
It couldn't be a legendary Level Four entity for one simple reason: a Legend wouldn't have taken so long to find him, and they certainly wouldn't have tested him first, giving him buffer time to run away. A legendary being would have confronted him immediately, either to recruit or eliminate him. The Noble's cautious approach was a testament to his limitations—he was still just a Level Three being, albeit a powerful one.
Norris came to terms with a horrifying thought. Did that mean for every sentient undead, there was a Sublimation being? The order of the death realm seemed to demand such a hierarchy. Though exceptions might occur, they would be too few to count on.
With constant use, his mana sense had become more proficient. Using it combined with basic reasoning, he gleaned much from the letter itself.
In the death realm, where trees were sparse, paper was a scarce resource. The fact that it had been used to write this invitation meant the Noble possessed significant wealth.
He could sense multiple auras equal to his own in the letter—echoes of their mana signatures. It felt like the work of a civilization, even if only at a town level. That meant a whole town of sublimated beings. The thought was terrifying.
No wonder the material realm was called the mortal realm by other-realm beings. Sublimated beings there were the cream of the crop, but here, they formed towns.
This realization made him deeply wary. With his haven compromised, he knew he could not stay any longer. The materials and time used to build this place would have to be wasted. Norris felt a pang of pain. Money wasted. F**k!
As if on cue, a jolt of agony erupted from the depths of his soul. Norris had begun suffering from the backlash of using spells for too long. Nerve-wracking pain that originated from the soul washed over him. He had activated all the traps at full firepower while he lay numb, unable to lift a single bony finger.
After an hour, the pain subsided to a bearable level, giving Norris space to think.
"I need to solve my soul problem, to be honest," Norris said, looking up from where he lay on the bare ground.
Now he could finally think clearly about his predicament. Prudence dictated that he exercise caution.
He decided to contact the local powers first. He couldn't bet on his luck too much. Coming to a different realm was already testing it greatly. To go roaming now would be begging fate for misfortune.
Having made his decision, Norris began to prepare. Rather than risking a direct confrontation, he would send an avatar to gather information. This would allow him to assess the situation without putting himself in direct harm.
Every mage creates spells one way or another. Norris drew inspiration from the Wood Clone technique he had seen in his previous life, specifically its Yin-Yang aspects.
He had successfully adapted this concept after analyzing the spell from a magical perspective, creating an innovative avatar spell that allowed him to project his consciousness into a temporary vessel made from his mana.
Low-key, he wouldn't want to do this. There were many existing avatar spells, but they were either high-level, expensive, or, most often, inaccessible to someone like Norris. He'd had to create one for himself.
To cast the spell, Norris required a lifeless body, often crafted from his dark energies, and a soul fragment imbued with his memories, thoughts, and experiences. By sealing these two components together and creating a harmonious bond, he could project his consciousness into the avatar. Additionally, he infused the avatar with his stored mana to ensure it had enough power to function effectively.
The resulting avatar was an extension of Norris's being, possessing a mirrored personality shaped by the memories within the soul fragment. This proxy served as his eyes and ears, allowing him to gather information and interact with others without putting his main body at risk. Norris had created different avatars for different situations. A lich body was ready.
As the avatar ventured into the unknown, Norris's main body would remain in a state of dormancy, hidden in a secure location. He would stay there, conserving energy and maintaining a stable connection with his avatar, until he gathered enough information to decide his next move.
At the appointed time, a lich emerged from the cave, carrying itself with a distinctly Norris-like gait.