Bellic fought Lorianth with renewed vigor, fueled by the loss of his master, the Eastern Pillar. Despite their strained relationship had been an ally, Bellic held a deep reverence for the man, he had been a loyal son of the church. Losing him to the vile witch that stood before him stoked the fires of his fury.
Realizing that all hope was lost in this battle, Bellic lashed out in desperation at the undead abomination that confronted him. He retreated to the grotesque, tumor-ridden body of the Eastern Pillar, a grotesque embodiment of torment and madness. In his frenzied state, he attempted to harness the man's divine pact, merging it with the golden mark etched onto his own body. It was a desperate gambit, an attempt to steal the Eastern Pillar's power and triple his own. The golden tattoo on his flesh blazed with radiant light as his strength surged.
Despite Bellic's efforts, the battle quickly turned against him. Sophia added two more rotting bodies to the fray, their souls screaming in agony, creating an unstoppable force of undead. The bard's melodic songs empowered them, and the monk's holy magic rained down pressure from a distance. Combined with Lorianth's close combat elemental attacks, they overwhelmed Bellic's newfound power.
In a final act of fury and frustration, Bellic unleashed a wave of golden light before shouting in anger, "YOU WILL ANSWER FOR YOUR CRIMES, YOU EVIL BITCH!" He roared as he made a desperate dash for the docks, the undead S-ranks relentlessly pursuing him.
"After him!" Mike's command rallied the undead forces, they gave chase. The golden barrier that had shielded the city fell. Dispatching her undead minions to pursue Bellic was their only option as they moved to help Altheack, and they did so with unwavering commitment.
After a brief period, their undead scouts returned with grim news: Bellic had managed to escape on his boat, sailing westward back to the central continent. He was retreating, tail between his legs, leaving behind the city they had fought so hard to save. The victory was bittersweet, for they had stopped the immediate threat, but at a devastating cost. "Fucker got away again," Mike grumbled at the news.
As the dust settled and the echoes of their catastrophic battle faded away, Sophia stood amidst the ruins of the once-mighty capital. The weight of their actions bore heavily upon her, and the burned and lifeless bodies lay scattered around her, a grim testament to the devastation they had wrought. She couldn't help but be haunted by the thought that perhaps there had been another way, a path that wouldn't have exacted such a terrible toll on innocent lives. Regret gnawed at her, a relentless specter of guilt that clung to her like a shroud.
"What have I done," Sophia's voice trembled as she cast protective spells against radiation around herself and Altheack.
"We did what we had to," Mike said, his tone filled with reassurance. Altheack's condition was grievous; burns and cuts marred her once beautiful face, and a grotesque cut ran from her forehead to her lower cheek where the Eastern Pillar's blade had left its mark.
"Alth," Sophia tried to speak to Altheack, but the young woman had no words left, only sobs that wracked her fragile form. In that somber moment, words seemed inadequate, so they simply wrapped their arms around her. The silence was punctuated only by the sorrowful whispers of the bodies around them, a requiem for the last princes of Aldria.
As they traversed the devastated castle, the grim reality of their actions became painfully clear. Altheack's father and brother had not survived the cataclysmic event; the entire castle had been swallowed by the earth. Sophia felt an overwhelming guilt for the deaths of so many, especially the loss of more of Altheack's family. It was a heavy burden to bear, and she couldn't help but wonder if their friend's life would have been better if they had never crossed paths.
The days following the battle were a descent into a macabre nightmare. The initial explosion had claimed relatively few lives outside the castle, but the insidious fallout from the unleashed power was a grim and relentless adversary. Radiation seeped into the very air they breathed, and those who had survived the initial blast soon found themselves facing a slow and agonizing demise.
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The consequences of their actions were undeniable, and the horrors they had witnessed left indelible scars on Sophia's psyche. The use of necromancy had forever altered Sophia's connection to the world of the deceased. The power they had harnessed, that forbidden fusion of magic and life beyond the veil, had left an indelible mark on their very soul. They were now cursed to hear the voices of the dead, a constant and haunting presence in their mind.
With so much death surrounding them in the aftermath of the cataclysmic battle, the voices had grown more insistent, more numerous. It was as if every fallen soul sought to communicate with Sophia, to make their presence known, to share their stories, their regrets, and their unfulfilled desires.
The souls of the departed were like a relentless tide, their voices echoing in the depths of Sophia's mind, their pleas and cries an unending chorus that filled her waking hours. Some begged for release from the torment of the afterlife, while others simply sought someone to bear witness to the injustice of their demise.
As if to compound the horror, Mike reveled in the souls, casually absorbing them into himself. Sophia's pleas fell on deaf ears as he swallowed another soul, further muddling the mixture of their intertwined souls. "Quit absorbing them, Mike! Can't you hear their pleas?" Sophia begged, her voice filled with anguish and desperation.
"They're already dead," Mike retorted callously. "It's not like we know where they go anyway. This is probably better. At least this way they are useful."
Sophia was aghast at her brother's indifference to the suffering souls. She could hear them, their cries of confusion, their desperate pleas for mercy. "We know you are erasing them, for God's sake, Mike! I can hear them begging for mercy and understanding. Can't you hear them?" Sophia implored, her heart heavy with the weight of their torment.
"Nope," Mike replied with a grin as he scooped up another soul, his callousness cutting through the haunting chorus of the dead, feeding his demonic pact.
"We shouldn't use this power again," Sophia said, her voice filled with remorse as she watched another soul being drawn beyond the veil. It had been one of hundreds, and each departure weighed on her.
Mike nodded solemnly. "There was no other way to stop him, Soph. And you kept your promise. Alth is alive and that's all that matters."
Sophia turned her gaze to their devastated friend, Altheack. They had tried their best to save lives, but as they had discovered with the Eastern Pillar, healing magic was futile in the face of the radiation that now permeated the city. Weather magic might disperse the radiation, but it would only spread the fallout, causing even more suffering. The burden of this tragedy would have to be borne by the city itself.
Sophia, burdened by guilt and responsibility, turned to Altheack. "Will you ever be able to forgive me, Alth?" she asked softly as they walked among the ruins.
Altheack, her one remaining eye filled with a mixture of pain and determination, looked at both Sophia and Mike. "This wasn't your fault," she replied, her voice carrying a note of conviction. "If I hadn't left, perhaps we could have found another way to resolve this. Now, I have no one... No one but you two."
"I... could bring your dad back, even your mom..." Sophia's voice trailed off, her words alluding to the possibility of using necromancy to resurrect Altheack's loved ones. The idea had crossed her mind, fueled by the haunting voices of the dead, their relentless chorus whispering tempting promises and urging her to fully embrace the forbidden power of necromancy.
However, as the words hung in the air, Sophia immediately regretted her suggestion. She watched as a look of disgust washed over Altheack's face. "You know my mother's views on it, and my father wasn't much different. Not that it matters now... We must go south and inform my uncle, the Archduke, of the situation."
Altheack's visceral reaction to the idea jolted Sophia back to her senses. She recognized the perilous path she had momentarily considered, one that echoed Mike's descent into darkness. The allure of power was intoxicating, and the voices in her head, despite their promises of might, were a corrupting influence.
Sophia shook her head vigorously as if trying to physically dispel the dark thoughts that had momentarily clouded her judgment. "I'm sorry, Alth," she whispered, her voice filled with remorse. "That was a terrible idea, and I won't entertain it again."
Despite having dismissed the S-ranks' souls the retrieval of their bodies was a practical necessity, the process had felt profoundly wrong to her. She was aware of the cold logic behind it, but the cognitive dissonance it triggered was growing, threatening to pull her into the same moral abyss that had consumed Mike. Her struggle against the insidious influence of necromancy was far from over, but for now, she was determined to resist its temptations and focus on the arduous path ahead: the journey south to inform Altheack's uncle of the dire situation.
Altheack's eye, forever marred by the sinister nature of the Eastern Pillar's blade, remained unhealed but she stood by their side. The physical scar served as a constant reminder of the price she had paid, but her spirit burned with newfound determination. As tears flowed freely from her remaining eye, she remained resolute, ready to face the uncertain future that lay ahead.