Drelak's grip tightened around Zealot's neck, his skeletal fingers pressing into the flesh with a relentless, bone-crushing force. The air grew thick with the tension of the moment, the dark aura of the Lich King seeping into every corner of the grand throne room. Zealot’s feet dangled above the ground, but even in this precarious position, his expression remained unnervingly calm.

"I—I won’t oppose you, so I’ll join," Zealot managed to rasp out, his voice strained but steady.

Drelak's skeletal grin widened as he released his grip on Zealot's neck, allowing Zealot to drop to the ground. "Wise choice," Drelak intoned, his voice dripping with cold satisfaction. "It seems I didn’t have to dirty my hands after all."

Out of nowhere, a bone slave-collar materialized midair, hovering just in front of Zealot. Drelak’s skeletal hand shot out with precise, almost casual grace, seizing the collar from the air. He then extended it toward Zealot, his gaze cold and unyielding. “If you wish to serve under me,” Drelak intoned with a hint of finality, “then you must wear this.”

Zealot's eyes narrowed as he stared at the bone slave-collar, a chill running down his spine. The sinister collar radiated an aura of malevolence, its presence alone threatening to suffocate the resolve of any who dared oppose it. But Zealot wasn't like any ordinary adventurer. He had faced countless dangers and emerged victorious—he wasn't about to let a mere bone collar break his spirit.

Yet, as much as Zealot despised the idea of submission, he understood the gravity of his current situation. Lich King Drelak was not an adversary he could defeat, at least not now.

Zealot took a deep breath, steadying his nerves. His thoughts raced as he considered his options. A direct refusal would undoubtedly result in his immediate death. On the other hand, feigning loyalty could buy him time to understand Drelak's weaknesses and possibly even turn the tables when the opportunity arose in the future.

With a measured sigh, Zealot extended his hand toward the bone collar, his fingers brushing against the cold, unyielding bone. "I accept," he said, his voice carrying a tone of reluctant submission.

Drelak’s eyes glinted with satisfaction as Zealot took hold of the bone collar. “Excellent!” Drelak hissed, his skeletal form seemingly vibrating with anticipation. “Now, place it around your neck.”

Without hesitation, Zealot clasped the collar around his neck. The bone was frigid against his skin, and the moment it clicked into place, he felt a surge of dark energy coursing through him, a binding force that made him grit his teeth. However, Zealot’s expression remained calm, even as he felt the bone collar tightening around his throat like a vice, locking him into servitude.

"Great," Drelak murmured, his voice a cold whisper that seemed to resonate through the very walls of the grand throne room. "You are mine now, Zealot, and you will serve me until your dying breath." Lich King Drelak's words hung heavily in the air, carrying with them an unspoken promise of torment for any who dared to defy him.

Zealot could feel the weight of the bone collar pressing down on him, but he refused to let it crush his spirit. Instead, he focused on the one thought that had kept him going in countless battles: survival. ‘To survive, I must play this game with both cunning and care,’ he thought, his resolve hardening like steel.

‘Hahaha! Serves you right, Zealot! That’s what you get for betraying me, you son of a bitch!’ Sasha thought.

Zealot, fully aware of Sasha's thoughts due to his mind-reading ability, felt a twinge of annoyance at her spiteful musings. ‘What are you laughing at, you idiot?! We're in the same boat—you're just as much a slave to the Lich King as I am,’ Zealot thought, his irritation simmering as he dismissed her petty satisfaction.

Drelak turned away, his skeletal frame gliding effortlessly across the floor as he addressed Sasha. “And you, Sasha, don’t you think it’s about time you begin working on the task I asked you to do earlier? I trust you understand the importance of fulfilling your task promptly and efficiently, right?”

Sasha’s eyes flickered with unease as Drelak’s words hung in the air. Master Drelak's commanding presence left little room for defiance, and she knew better than to test his patience. She quickly masked her apprehension with a sharp nod, forcing herself to adopt a demeanor of unwavering resolve.

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“Of course, Master Drelak,” Sasha responded, her voice steady but laced with the weight of obligation. She rose from her kneeling position, her gaze lingering briefly on Zealot before shifting to the task at hand. “I’ll begin immediately.”

As Sasha turned around and was about to leave, Drelak stopped her and said, "Wait, Sasha, do not leave just yet."

She paused, turned back, and asked, "Yes, Master, do you need anything else?"

"Indeed," Drelak replied. "Before you go, ensure to bring Zealot with you. From now on, the two of you will be working together." He then turned to Zealot and continued, "Zealot, you will accompany Sasha henceforth. She will inform you of everything that needs to be done."

"W-Wait, what?! I have to work with this bastard?!" Sasha protested, clearly unhappy.

"Mind your tongue, Sasha!" Drelak yelled. "I don’t care what history you two have, but put aside any grudges for now and focus on completing the task. Remember, I do not tolerate failure. If either of you fails, both of you will face the consequences."

In an instant, both Zealot and Sasha gulped in fear, fully aware that failure meant death for both of them. With the bone slave-collars around their necks, Drelak could end their lives anywhere, anytime, with just a flick of his finger. In short, there was no escape.

"Now, get out of my sight immediately!" Drelak commanded, his voice laced with irritation. "I don’t want to see either of you lingering here for a second longer! Leave at once and don’t return until you’ve completed your task!”

"Y-Yes, Master!" Zealot and Sasha replied in unison, their voices trembling with apprehension. Without wasting another moment, they turned around and left the grand throne room.

***

The task Drelak assigned to Zealot and Sasha was to travel to a neighboring kingdom to purchase slaves. Why slaves? There are two reasons. First, life force absorption: the more people Drelak kills and absorbs their life force from, the stronger he becomes and the faster he levels up. Second, he needed to create an army of skeleton warriors, and for that, he required a substantial number of bodies.

Within the grand castle, in the expansive armory room lined with an array of weapons and armor, Sasha busied herself with preparing and gathering her equipment while Zealot stood nearby, waiting for her. Although the tension between them was palpable and their mutual disdain was evident, they had little choice but to cooperate for the time being.

The stakes were high, as Drelak had made it clear: they were allotted only a month to complete their task. Should they fail to finish within the given timeframe, the dire consequence awaiting them would be death. With such a grim ultimatum hanging over them, their temporary alliance was a matter of necessity, not choice.

As Sasha strapped a pair of swords to her belt, her movements brisk and precise, she couldn’t help but glance sideways at Zealot, who stood by the armory door with his arms crossed, his expression unreadable. The tension between them was almost tangible, like the sharp edge of a blade ready to cut through the silence at any moment.

“I can’t believe I’m stuck with you,” Sasha muttered under her breath, her voice laced with bitterness as she adjusted the scabbards on her back.

Zealot’s eyes narrowed, but he remained calm, his voice steady as he replied, “I’m not exactly thrilled either. But we don’t have a choice, do we? Master Drelak made that perfectly clear.”

Sasha spun around to face him, her eyes flashing with barely contained anger. “Just stay out of my way, Zealot! I don’t need you slowing me down.”

Zealot met her glare with a cool, measured gaze. “I wasn’t planning on getting in your way, but don’t forget—I’m not some novice who needs babysitting. We both know what’s at stake, so let’s just get this over with.”

Sasha huffed, turning away to fasten her cloak around her shoulders. “Fine. But remember, I’m in charge here. We’ll do things my way, and maybe—just maybe—we’ll get through this alive.”

A smirk played at the corner of Zealot’s lips. “Whatever helps you sleep at night, Sasha. Let’s just focus on completing the task. Master Drelak’s wrath isn’t something I’m eager to experience.”

Sasha didn’t respond immediately, instead checking the sharpness of her swords before finally speaking, her tone grudgingly softened. “Just don’t do anything stupid, Zealot. We’ve got only a month, and I’d rather not die because of your mistakes.”

Zealot raised an eyebrow, a hint of amusement in his voice as he said, “Funny, I was about to say the same thing to you.” Despite the playful remark, he chose not to press further. Instead, he leaned casually against the doorframe, his gaze fixed on Sasha as she prepared. Despite the mounting tension, he remained calm, knowing that any further verbal exchange would only exacerbate their predicament.

Sasha finished securing her gear and turned to face Zealot, her frustration evident in her eyes. “Alright, let’s get this over with!” she exclaimed, her tone sharp and impatient. “We’re on a tight deadline, and I have no intention of dragging this out.”

Zealot nodded, his expression neutral. “Agreed. Let’s make sure we meet Master Drelak’s expectations. The sooner we complete this task, the sooner we can return to some semblance of normalcy.”

Sasha rolled her eyes but didn’t argue. She turned on her heel and headed toward the castle’s exit, Zealot following closely behind. The two of them made their way through the grand halls, the echoes of their footsteps a stark contrast to the earlier silence.