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You are Gamma the Lich. The Order of the Sun usually keeps you sealed into a catacomb specially prepared to trap you forever, since they can't figure out a way to get to your phylactery to destroy you, but right now you feel just A-mazinn.
You look around, your awareness of your surroundings starting to become less numb as the many wards the paladins put on you start to fade. You feel a strong tinnitus and can't really hear anything currently, but you see a cultist on top of you babbling something before a sword punctures through his gut. This one will be a close call, it seems. Just the way you're used to.
The paladins love to be flashy so they chained you to the sarcophagus with mithril chains. These chains alone could finance your operations for a decade, let alone the several enfeeblement traps that kept your massive intellect dormant, at below animal level so you can't even cast a spell.
You extend your bony hand as far as manacles allow it, hoping to be able to touch something. The pierced cultist is not quite dead yet, so you manage to touch him and snuff out his lifeforce, consumed in an instant.
With this boost of energy, you negate the enfeeblement traps and your intellect returns, and with it the ability to cast spells, twice as fast as any mortal magician.
So of course you cast Haste, allowing you to cast four spells in the time an ordinary wizard would cast one.
In a split second, you cast your usual suite: Mind Blank, Globe of Invulnerability, Flight and, taking advantage of the spilled stomach acid your dying cultist so graciously provided, you cast a fully maximized corrosion spell on the mithril chain, weakening it enough to bend it and liberate one arm.
The nearest paladin notices your arm is free and hit you with his holy sword. Were you a lesser undead, the merest touch of it would be enough to destroy you. But as you are, it only gives you a mild nuisance.
Confident that you're unkillable, you detach your arm and shoot it away in an arc, pretending the paladin lopped it off.
As the paladins rush to reseal the chamber, your self severed arm explodes, killing and maiming several people, cultists and holy men alike.
You can sense a tiny fragment hitting the invisible wall that keeps you locked there.
You focus your magical power on a fully maximized Breach spell, focuses on a point the size of a pin. With ten thousand tons of magical pressure, you squeeze a needle-like fragment of your exploded limb outside the catacomb. You won.
