"Follow me," he said to them, his tone sharp and unyielding. He led them down the dark, narrow path, the villagers trailing hesitantly behind, clutching their torches as if the fire could protect them from the unknown.

It didn't take long before they arrived at a small, decrepit house, barely holding itself together against the weight of time. The wooden structure leaned slightly, its windows covered with grime, and the faint glow of candlelight flickered within.

"Is this the Seer's house?" the villagers murmured amongst themselves, their voices hushed and uncertain.

He said nothing, his expression unreadable as he stopped before the door and gestured toward it. "Go and check inside."

The father hesitated, glancing back at the group. Then, steeling himself, he pushed open the door.

The scent of damp wood and herbs hit them first, followed by the sight inside. The villagers froze, their torches casting uneven light over the scene.

There, slumped against a corner, was Nora. Her clothes were torn and ragged, her face pale and streaked with tears and dirt. Her hair was disheveled, and her trembling hands clutched at her knees. Bruises marred her arms, and the faintest streaks of dried blood could be seen on her exposed skin.

The villagers gasped, and the mother screamed, rushing forward to her daughter. "Nora!" she cried, collapsing beside her.

Before anyone could process what they were seeing, a raspy voice came from deeper inside the house.

"What is the meaning of this?"

The Seer emerged from the shadows, his frail form wrapped in a loose robe, his beard unkempt and white as snow. His eyes, clouded with age, widened in visible shock as he took in the scene before him.

"Who is this girl? Why is she in my house?" he demanded, his tone filled with genuine bewilderment. He looked at Nora, then at the villagers, his expression one of confusion.

But the villagers didn't believe him.

"You dare ask?" one of them snarled, stepping forward. "We found her here, in your house, in this condition! What have you done to her, you wretched old man?"

The Seer's face twisted in disbelief. "I've done nothing! I swear! I don't even know how she got here!"

"Liar!" another villager yelled, raising his torch as if ready to strike. "Look at her! Someone tried to harm her—and she's in your house! What more proof do we need?"

The Seer raised his hands defensively, his voice cracking with desperation. "I'm telling you the truth! I... I was meditating! I heard nothing, saw nothing! She wasn't here when I last looked around my home!"

The father, torn between disbelief and anger, stepped forward, his voice shaking. "Why should we believe you? She's clearly been hurt, and she's here, in your house. What other explanation could there be?"

The Seer's face paled further, his hands trembling. "You have to believe me! Someone must have left her here to frame me—or worse! I've done no harm!"

Nora whimpered, her weak voice barely audible. "He... he ... it was him... he tried to force himself onto me"

The room froze as Nora's words broke through the tense air. Her voice, though faint, carried a heavy weight that immediately inflamed the villagers.

"See!" one of them snarled, gripping his torch tighter. "She's saying it herself! The Seer's a monster!"

The Seer stumbled backward, his frail hands raised in frantic denial. "No! That's not true! I swear on my life—I didn't touch her!" His voice cracked with desperation, but his protests fell on deaf ears.

The father's face twisted in rage. "You filthy liar!" he bellowed, his fists clenched as he took another step forward. "You've betrayed the trust of this village. We'll make sure you pay for this!"

"Wait!" the mother shouted, her voice breaking as she clutched her daughter closer. She turned to Nora, her eyes pleading. "Nora, sweetie, tell us what happened. Are you saying he—the Seer—did this to you?"

Nora For a flicker of second looked towards Him As She turned her gaze towards the seer..

"Yes it was him he did it.."

The room erupted into chaos. Nora's trembling accusation sent the villagers into a frenzy of anger and disbelief.

"You old man!" one of the villagers shouted, his voice laced with venom. "Your one foot's already in the grave, but you still want to force yourself on a woman? Have you no shame?"

The Seer stumbled backward, his face a mask of shock and despair. "No! I didn't do anything! She's lying! I would never—"

"Lying?!" the father roared, his voice booming. "She's my daughter! Why would she lie about something so vile?!"

The villagers closed in, their torches casting ominous shadows on the Seer's trembling form. The mother held Nora tighter, her face a mixture of horror and heartbreak.

"I swear to you all," the Seer pleaded, his voice cracking with desperation, "I found her here like this! Someone must have brought her in while I was asleep. I had no idea she was even here until you arrived!"

"Enough of your excuses!" another villager barked, stepping forward with his torch raised. "You think we're fools? You've always been strange, keeping to yourself, dabbling in your so-called visions. Who's to say what kind of darkness you're hiding here?"

The tension in the air was thick as the Seer looked around, desperately seeking help, but found only hostile faces.

From the sidelines, he watched the scene unfold with a smile, knowing everything was going according to plan. The Seer struggled to defend himself, but the villagers were too angry. They picked up stones and began throwing them at him, each hit landing with a sickening thud. His cries for mercy were drowned by the crowd's shouts.

Nora, still in her mother's arms, watched in horror. Guilt filled her as she remembered the lie she had told. She had condemned an innocent man, and now he was suffering because of her. She closed her eyes, unable to watch anymore, feeling powerless and trapped in the consequences of her actions.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

He stood at the edge of the crowd, watching the chaos unfold with a detached expression. The Seer's cries grew weaker, his body battered by the stones, but he didn't want him dead. He only wanted him gone. The plan was working, but things were spiraling out of control.

He stepped forward, his presence commanding attention. "Enough," he said sharply, his voice cutting through the villagers' angry shouts. The crowd hesitated, their rage momentarily subdued by his authority.

"Stop," he repeated, his tone more forceful. "There's no need for bloodshed. Just drive him out of the village."

The villagers exchanged uncertain glances but began to lower their weapons, cowed by his words.

The Seer, hunched and trembling, turned his gaze toward him. His eyes widened in sudden realization, and his voice, hoarse with anger, rose above the murmurs. "You!! It was you! You set me up!"

The villagers froze, their confusion deepening as they looked between the Seer and him.

He remained calm, his expression unreadable, as if the accusation was of no consequence. His cold eyes locked onto the Seer's, his tone unshaken.

"You're delusional, old man," he said, his voice smooth, almost mocking. "Don't try to blame me for your sins. The people made their choice. Accept it with some dignity."

The Seer's bloodied hands gripped the edges of his tattered robes as humiliation and fury consumed him. He had been a respected figure in this village, but now, thanks to this setup, he was reduced to nothing but a scapegoat. His despair morphed into a desperate resolve.

"You think you can destroy me and walk away unscathed?" the Seer growled, his voice rasping with both anger and agony. His head tilted upward, and his left eye—the one milky and blind—snapped open. A chill swept through the crowd, an unnatural wind rustling through their clothes.

A collective gasp escaped the villagers. Those who stood closest stumbled back, clutching their chests as the Seer's gaze seemed to pierce through them, an unholy light emanating from his blind eye.

The Seer's voice boomed, filled with rage and sorrow. "If my life ends here, I'll curse you! I'll curse your very soul!" His hands trembled as his eye locked onto him, the source of all his suffering.

But as the Seer's gaze settled on him, something horrifying happened. The Seer's defiance melted into sheer terror. His jaw dropped, his lips quivering as if he had seen something beyond human comprehension.

His blind eye widened further, its light flickering erratically, and his body began to shake uncontrollably. "W-What are you?! What kind of... monster—?"

The Seer collapsed to his knees, clutching his face as he screamed in agony. His cries turned into incoherent mutters, his words lost to the madness clawing at his mind. Blood streamed from his nose and ears, and his eye shut tightly as if trying to erase the vision it had just seen.

The villagers stood frozen, their fear and confusion mounting.

Nora, her guilt overwhelming, whispered softly, "What's happening to him?"

The Seer let out a final, pitiful wail before collapsing entirely, his breathing ragged, his mind shattered.

He stood there, genuinely baffled, his brow furrowing as he watched the Seer convulse on the ground. “What the fuck...?” he muttered under his breath. “I didn’t even do anything. Why did this old man suddenly lose it? What the hell just happened?”

As if in response to his confusion, a familiar, voice echoed in his mind—a voice that only he could hear.

[The subject attempted to peer into your soul using a forbidden technique. As a Transcendent Being, your soul exists beyond mortal comprehension. Direct exposure resulted in catastrophic feedback, inducing irreversible madness.]

He blinked, momentarily stunned by the explanation. His gaze shifted back to the Seer, now a broken figure lying in the dirt, and a twinge of pity flashed across his face before quickly vanishing.

“So that’s what happened...” he murmured, almost to himself. "He tried to curse me... and it backfired. Well, serves him right, I guess."

The villagers, still paralyzed by fear, whispered among themselves.

“What happened to him?”

“Is it some kind of divine punishment?”

“Maybe the gods struck him down for his crimes!”

Their murmurs grew louder, but no one dared approach the Seer—or him.

Nora, still clutching her mother, peeked up at him. Her lips quivered, guilt and fear blending in her wide eyes. “It’s because of me... all of this...” she whispered, tears streaming down her face.

He turned his gaze to her, his expression unreadable. For a moment, their eyes met, and she flinched as though struck. Without another word, he turned away, his cloak rippling in the cold wind.

“Drive him out of the village,” he ordered the villagers. “He’s of no use to anyone now.”

The villagers hesitated but eventually obeyed, too afraid to question him.

Later, he returned home and collapsed onto his bed with a heavy sigh. “The obstacle is gone now,” he muttered.

“Let’s see how much faith I can gain... and how much stronger I’ll become.”

A few days passed before a knock sounded at his door. When he opened it, he found Nora standing there.

“Come in,” he said. She entered quietly and sat on the bed, her gaze distant, lost in thought.

He leaned against the wall with his arms crossed, watching her with a faint smile. “What’s on your mind, Nora?” he asked calmly.

Her fingers twisted the hem of her dress, and her voice was soft, almost hesitant. “I don’t doubt you, my lord... but was it truly right, what we did to the seer?”

The air in the room seemed to grow heavier, the flickering candlelight casting shifting shadows on his face. He pushed off the wall and stepped closer.

“Nora,” he said softly, his voice smooth and deliberate, “what exactly do you mean by ‘wrong’?”

She looked up at him, her eyes wide with guilt. “He… he was innocent, wasn’t he? We lied, and now his life is ruined. The villagers will never forgive him. What if—”

He cut her off with a low chuckle, shaking his head as if amused by her naivety. “Do you truly believe that old man was innocent?” His tone was calm but carried an edge of condescension. “Do you think people as broken as him are capable of purity? Let me ask you this—when you saw him, bruised and desperate, did you feel pity for him? Or did you feel relief that the blame was no longer on you?”

Nora blinked, startled by his words. She opened her mouth to reply but faltered, her guilt twisting into confusion. “I… I don’t know. But what we did—”

“What I did,” he interrupted firmly, leaning closer, his piercing gaze locking onto hers, “was protect you. Protect this village. That Seer had lived too long in his little corner, untouched by scrutiny. A man like that? Secrets fester in shadows. He was already suspect in the villagers’ eyes. I merely brought those suspicions to light.”

Nora’s lips trembled. “But what if those suspicions weren’t true? What if—”

“Stop.” His voice was sharp now, his eyes narrowing. He reached out, placing a hand gently on her shoulder, but the weight of his presence made her feel small.

As he leaned closer, his breath warm against her neck, the intensity of his gaze pinned her in place. His voice was low, almost a whisper, but it carried an undeniable weight.

“Are you doubting my actions?” he asked, his face inches from hers.

Her cheeks flushed a deeper red, and her breathing quickened involuntarily. His proximity, combined with his striking features, was enough to disarm even the most resolute. She tried to look away, but the pull of his piercing eyes held her captive.

“Do you think I was wrong?” he asked again, his tone softer but laced with a subtle challenge.

Nora swallowed hard, her words caught in her throat. She didn’t know how to respond—her heart pounded so loudly she was certain he could hear it.

“If you think so,” he continued, his voice tinged with a quiet resignation, “then I’ll leave this village forever. And you.”

His words hit her like a blow, the weight of them pressing against her chest. She looked up at him, her eyes wide with panic. “No, my lord,” she said hastily, her voice trembling. “I—I don’t think you were wrong.”

He tilted his head slightly, his lips curling into a faint smile. “Good,” he murmured. “Because I only act for the greater good. For you. For everyone here.”

Nora nodded, her face still flushed, her heart torn between relief and the lingering unease she couldn’t shake.

“Remember this, Nora,” he said, his voice steady. “Doubt weakens resolve. If you trust me, truly trust me, then there’s no place for doubt.”

She nodded again, her earlier uncertainty now replaced by a growing determination to prove her loyalty to him.

As she left, he watched her go with a satisfied smirk. The seeds of loyalty and dependence he had planted were growing steadily. Turning back to the dimly lit room, he clasped his hands behind his back and muttered,

She nodded again, her earlier uncertainty now replaced by a growing determination to prove her loyalty to him.

Once the door clicked shut behind her, his demeanor shifted. He strode over to the corner of the room where a weathered, black-bound book lay hidden beneath an old cloth.

The Guide of Death Blood Sorcery.

He placed the book carefully on the table, its aged leather cover emanating an unsettling aura. The intricate, crimson sigils embossed on the front seemed to pulse faintly, as though alive. His fingers hovered over it for a moment before he opened it, revealing yellowed pages filled with cryptic symbols and instructions.

"Curious," he murmured to himself, his eyes scanning the text. "Let's See what more sorcerys it has..."