The Lich King Reincarnates as a Baby

++There are always concessions for the weak, and until you reach the very epitome of this world there is always someone who, with their very presence, makes you seem weak. Failing to work around this after coming into new power is the biggest pitfall a rising influence can have.++

- From the writings of Isabel Vornholt, ‘The Great Lich’. 1,891 A.E.

Agrian’s rejection produced a set of emotions that I did not have time for, so I shoved them to one side and focused instead on the more practical problems. Those were larger, more dangerous and harder to deal with, but they were, at least, familiar. They were things I had the tools for already made.

I considered, then ruled out, informing the Earl of my father’s stake in the company. If anything that would only make him less likely to offer his support. Convincing him to grant it to me seemed a lost cause no matter how I thought of how to word it. He simply did not want a granddaughter of his running a business. Psychotically misogynistic, how inconvenient.

Other, more drastic plans came to mind. With my level of power I could certainly carve my way through a bank vault in short order, and flight would let me make my way between continents if I had to. Nothing was stopping me from looting some noble in Irucci and snatching the wealth thousands of leagues away before anything could come of it.

Except, my power being as rare and great as it was had also brought the drawback of making it terribly traceable. A flying magician narrowed down the possible culprits to perhaps fifty people in the world. A flying, female, black-haired magician of my age could only be Isabel Vornholt.

The Garamon Empire was bigger than any other in history, as far as I could tell, and its territory spanned almost from one extreme of the planet to the other. Arwyna was a small place indeed when you were wanted by Garamon.

I became increasingly desperate, and as I did so my plans became increasingly stupid. Could I attempt to restart the age of piracy that had been taking the seas by storm a few centuries ago? Perhaps start launching magic missiles into a mountain range in the hopes of finding gold? Maybe if I hurried I could develop my sledges into a marketable product within only a week or two.

The panic must have been getting to me, because I took almost a day to reconsider my conversation with Earl Yilear and finally realise the obvious solution to my problem. A risky one, still. But better than nothing.

I began implementing it by flying back to Poloira. Travelling by myself, and flying the whole distance this time, it took me less than five hours to make the whole way.

When I arrived, it was a pleasant surprise to find that my refinery was not under attack again. I had not dared to hope that the repairs would be underway already, and indeed they were not, but at the very least all the fires had been extinguished and things had been settled into a relatively stable state. I resolved to give them a more detailed look later; for now I just needed Qaigor.

My brother was surprisingly difficult to find. Fortunately, his own innate power worked against his efforts to hide. I extended a field of necromantic sensory power to feel out the vital energies of everyone around me. This was very bad at locating magicians, but for warriors, whose magic went purely to strengthening their bodies, it was like attempting to find the full moon in a cloudless sky.

Qaigor had somehow sequestered himself at the very top of the large plateau that crested the leyline. I hovered up to speak with him, and saw him turning his body away as I came.

“Go away,” he snapped. “I don’t want to talk to you.”

I did not leave, though I did not draw any closer either. I needed to avoid enraging him, at least for now.

“What is wrong?” I asked.

He ignored me, forcing me to draw closer and sit down beside him.

“I cannot help you if you do not tell me what is wrong,” I said irritably. Qaigor glared up at me.

“Stop pretending to care,” he snapped. “You don’t want me here, I know already, just admit it.”

I realised there were tears welling up in his eyes, barely held back.

“What are you talking about?” I asked.

“I know you didn’t want me to come with you. I know father made you take me, and since I got here you haven’t come to talk to me once. You just dropped me off on that stupid whore.”

“Do not call Alira a whore,” I told him. He glared at me.

This content has been unlawfully taken from NovelPhoenix; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

“Why? Why do you suddenly care about what I do now?”

The tears were falling now. I was sorely tempted to fly as far and fast as I could to maximize the distance between myself and my younger brother’s repulsive eye-holes. Unfortunately, I had more pressing matters than hygiene.

“I have…neglected you,” I said after a moment. “I am sorry.”

Qaigor kept glaring at me, but said nothing. I continued.

“I am working to try and secure money and power for our family…for you. But I am not very good with children.”

“You’re good with Victoria,” he frowned accusatorily.

“No, I am not,” I told him. “I never know how to deal with her, or when she congeals on me, and I am always out of my element when doing so.”

A smile started to crack his scowl.

“You always squirmed when she hugged you,” he chuckled.

“I did.” I looked away for a moment, considering how best to play this. “You are my brother, and I care for you. I am not very good at showing that. I should try to do it more. But when I am absent, and busy elsewhere, I am working for your benefit.”

I still remembered giving my word to Agrian that I would do just that, and as far as I was concerned that oath was still binding.

Qaigor listened to my explanation and got a strange look on his face. Then he hugged me.

I do not like being hugged at the best of times, but having Qaigor unexpectedly do so brought a whole new dimension to the discomfort. I gasped as I felt his strength threaten to cave in my ribcage.

“Qaigor,” I wheezed. “I am not as strong as father.”

He relaxed his grip, then relaxed it some more when I patted his arm and looked up at me grinning.

“You’re so squishy,” he laughed. “When I get older, I’m going to protect you. The way you’re trying to take care of me.”

It was such a perfect segue into what I came here to discuss, that I could not have planned it better myself.

“There is something you can do now, actually,” I told him. “But it is a lot of responsibility, I would need to know I can trust you. Can I trust you?”

“Yes,” Qaigor told me at once. “I’m not a little boy anymore Isabel, I’m almost a man.”

In fact, Qaigor would not be considered a man until he turned twenty-one, the same as me. But pointing that out would not win me his cooperation.

“Then you must come with me,” I told him.

I was able to carry Qaigor quite easily while free-flying, which seemed to excite him even more than my winged sledge had. With the two of us, though, my speed suffered. It took me roughly six hours to cross the ocean and reach our grandfather’s house.

“Can…I ever learn to do that?” my brother asked me as we touched down. I felt a sting of anger as I replied. By now he was too far down the warrior’s path to ever make a good magician. Not compared to what he would have been if he had studied magic from the start.

“No,” I told him regretfully. “I am sorry.”

He nodded at that, then shrugged. “So I’ll never fly myself. You can make flying vehicles, right? You’ll figure something out.”

I could not help but smile. “I probably will. Are you ready to enter now?”

Qaigor nodded, and we headed onto our grandfather’s grounds.

This time I was escorted through by fewer men, and none of them were gate guards. Perhaps Qaigor’s presence made the master of the house less concerned about womanly fragility as I made my way through it. The Earl was where he was the last time I came to visit, though smiling more broadly as I entered now. That smile gave way to surprise when he saw Qaigor.

“Ah, Qaigor,” he noted. “I assumed you meant…Agrian.”

I feigned surprise. “I apologise grandfather, but I assume you knew that Agrian was taking a trip. I would not want to bother him with the running of our family business.”

The Earl was growing less cheerful by the moment.

“And so when you said that you were running the oil refinery on behalf of your brother, you were in fact talking about the twelve year-old.”

“He is a clever twelve year-old,” I countered. “And, as I said, not running the company just yet. But if it crumbles before he comes of age then he will never get his inheritance.”

It was quite blunt, as far as manipulations went, but if there was one benefit to passing off a child as the real owner of all your assets, it was that you could afford to be blunt.

The Earl made a show of reluctance and long-thought before he finally sighed. “Fine. Eight thousand crowns, you said?”

“Yes,” I confirmed, then watched as he pulled out his checkbook and wrote the sum out.

“I expect this to be used responsibly,” he warned Qaigor and I.

My brother took the check with a broad grin. “Of course we’ll use it well.”

The Earl eyed him, then nodded slowly. “Yes,” he said. “You will. Because I’m going to be helping to oversee how you handle things too, my boy. You won’t need to worry about getting all your advice from a woman anymore, not on my watch.”

I was sorely tempted to just explode my grandfather’s head on the spot.

“Anything else you two need?” he asked, like he knew what I wanted and was trying to tempt me into doing it.

“...No, grandfather,” I replied. It would take ever so long to clean his brains out of my new dress.

The Earl smiled. “Then off with you, and good luck with the business. Oh, and make sure your idiot father sends me some thanks for bailing his kids out.”

Visit and read more novel to help us update chapter quickly. Thank you so much!