"...Hmm. Lich cannot fathom strategy..."
The chamber was spotless, bright, almost blindingly white—Lich's laboratory. Every bottle gleamed on neat shelves, every parchment filed to perfection. On the wide desk, a map of the whole continent sprawled open, its edges curling like they carried the weight of armies. Beside it, a skeleton sat with both hands on its skull, as if holding in thoughts too heavy for a brain it no longer had.
Once, this figure had been human—once, a proud member of the Hero's Party. Now, stripped of flesh, Lich sat as one of the Undead's most feared, staring at the map with hollow sockets faintly glowing. The diamond-shaped continent lay beneath his touch: Demonkin surging from the east, Humans pressing from the west, both sides tearing at the soil like it was treasure.
The frontline cut the land clean in two, east to west, a scar across the continent. Mountains split that scar into three theaters—north, central, south—each one broken further into hills and valleys, turning every fight into a grind. These were details Lich should have known from his time with the Hero's Party. But strategy had never mattered to him, and so those memories faded away. He saved his memory for what mattered: research.
"...What troubles you, Lich-sama?"
The voice slipped into the room without a step. A figure appeared at his side, skin like blue crystal, lips painted dark azure. Alice, voluptuous and calm, one of the Undead generals, watched him with eyes full of devotion and amusement.
"Alice," Lich muttered, tapping the map with one knuckle. "Lich was considering strategy, with this map given by the Demon King."
Her lips curved into a smile. "Oh? At last, will Lich-sama step onto the battlefield? You always wander to the Giantkin's front instead—it is frustrating."
"Wrong!" His sockets flared. "Lich will not stand on the battlefield. Lich must pursue research."
"Could you not end the war first?" Alice tilted her head, blue hair sliding like liquid glass. "If Lich-sama fought, we would win far sooner than any experiment could finish."
"..."
The Demon King seemed intent on prolonging the war, but the generals aimed to finish it. Perhaps Demonkin were not clever. They lived by strength, by simple rules: strength is power, muscle is muscle. That was their creed.
"In any case," Lich said, "Lich will research. That does not change."
"And once research is done, we will win the war?"
"...Mm."
That had been his excuse when he joined the Demonkin—research first, war later. Already, it felt distant.
"In any case, in any case, in any case," he muttered, jaw clicking. "Lich is a researcher. Lich wishes only to research. Anything else, Lich does not wish to think about..."
"Yet you were looking at a map," Alice pointed out.
"Indeed. Lich wishes to place vessels. Jars."
"...Jars?"
"Vessels with corpses. Anchors for possession magic. If placed well, souls could leap great distances. That is why Lich looked at the map..."
He shifted, then admitted, "...But Lich cannot read maps."
"...Eh? Truly?"
"Dead serious."
Topography never stayed in his mind. Distances, terrain—blurred into haze.
Alice shrugged. "I am poor with that too."
"But for moving troops, it matters. Elevation slows marches. Alice, how do you manage?"
"By not worrying about it."
"Explain in words Lich understands."
"Ghosts fly through mountains and forests. High ground does not matter."
"...Zombies?"
"They are slow. If ground is bad, we leave them."
"...Skeletons?"
"We dismantle them. Ghosts carry the pieces."
Lich dropped his skull into his hands. "...Lich knows no strategy."
"You said that, yes."
"But still... the simple things you do seem like they could change war."
Alice blinked. "How so?"
"You descend to fight. But suppose you stayed in the air, dropping rocks from above. You could strike safely."
Her eyes widened. "...From above, while they are below?"
"Yes! That is why it would work!"
"Lich-sama," Alice said carefully, "the enemy is on the ground."
"...Yes?"
"So Ghosts descend to fight."
"...Restrain them."
"Impossible. For Ghosts, 'attack' means rushing close. They cannot grasp 'attack but stay high.'"
"You do not use ranged weapons?"
"...We throw Skeletons sometimes."
"Then throw Skeletons from above."
"They would throw, then descend anyway."
"Then retreat, throw again, from the air—"
"Lich-sama. Please listen. Our brains are either clear or rotten. Complex orders are impossible."
"...I see."
"'Attack' means one thing: charge. If told 'attack but stay high,' they will grow confused—and pass on."
"That serious?"
"Do not underestimate Undead intellect," she said, puffing her chest.
Lich stared. Why did she sound proud?
"...Very well. Lich knows nothing of tactics. Nor does Lich wish to command or train. Training is hated. Once, as Hero's Party, they threw me into drills with soldiers. Only humiliation came."
"Hero's Party?" Alice tilted her head. "The enemy Hero's Party?"
"...Yes. Lich was among them."
"Ah. Then you have trained Demonkin before?"
"...Lich is Lich."
"...I see."
"...No, wait. Is that fine?"
"I have served you long, but even I do not know all your past. Perhaps as long as Demonkin history itself."
"Lich is amazing."
"Yes. Truly amazing."
"...Anyway. Jars must be buried at intervals. Terrain must be known. Last time, numbers were wrong. Supply may fail. More jars need more budget. Ah, why must life always need money?"
"Do we need these jars at all?" Alice asked.
"You dare?!"
His sockets flared, skull snapping toward her. Alice drifted back.
"Eh... was that bad?"
"You are all the same! 'Is this necessary?' you ask. Why must research always be judged by use? That is arrogance!"
"But discoveries help the world by being useful."
"Wrong! Research is done from curiosity. Usefulness comes later."
"Then why research at all?"
"Because there are questions! Doubts! Curiosities that gnaw until answered!"
"...Huh?"
"You feel no itch? No need to know, to solve?"
"...Not really..."
"Exactly! That is why normal people live normal lives. Those who cannot—fall into research, into magic, into abyss, as Lich has!"
"P-please calm yourself, Lich-sama..."
"...Hmph. A slip. In any case, do not ask again of necessity. It exists. Explaining is waste."
Research was always smaller than the world thought. Every great 'A' seen by the public hid long chains of B, C, D. His work was like that: far ahead, buried deep, impossible to explain to soldiers.
"...An excellent assistant is needed," he sighed. "A researcher to train. Lanza... she could calculate jar counts easily, but her talent is too precious to waste..."
"So Lich-sama wants an intelligent errand-runner?" Alice asked.
"...Correct."
"In that case, there is a rumor. A ghost story, perhaps."
"...Undead telling ghost stories?"
"They say, near the southern front, lies a ruin. An ancient civilization's remains."
"And?"
"Inside rests a being—obedient, intelligent, fully compliant. Humans hunt for it even now."
"...Hmph. Useful enough."
"Yes. That is why Humans seek it."
"Southern front, you said?"
"Yes."
"...Then we search."
He needed to walk the land anyway, to study terrain, soil, elevation. So Lich chose: fieldwork. A scholar stepping beyond walls.
He did not know what it would bring. Not jars, not errands, but something else entirely.
The hour of ruin crept closer. And none of them knew how close it was.