Ah yes. I can see more victims. I can feel their mana. I want to make it ours.

I wonder what they sound like when they scream. Do these creatures bleed the same red blood as the others? Does it smell as delicious?

“You there,” a meat sock approaches me. It speaks in a haughty tone.

How impudent. How unsavory.

“Who are you?” It demands to know.

“Ama Sche La!” I say. My blood curdles with power. The Seed gives me strength. It speaks the words of power to me. I need not speak the tongue of a worthless animal.

This foolish creature draws a sword upon me. It is short and sharp like a toothpick. Perfect for gouging out an organ or two. Oh yes, I want that. I want that weapon as my trophy. Is it ok? Can I have it?

Yes! The Seed speaks! I am blessed. “[Accursed Arts: Black Summoning]”! I call forth my opening salvo. A midnight-black circle appears on the ground. Like a conduit, it sucks in energy from the jungle of prickly thorns.

“What, what spell is this? Elf,” the meat sock looks at one of its compatriots, “you know summoning magic, right? What is this spell?”

The one that it is referring to is wearing green. Green is the color of The Seed. This one, though, is not of the vine. This one has a notch in its ears. Does it have elven blood like the thrall that I was granted? Maybe I should see how it reacts to fighting one of its own.

I picture the beast whose soul I recently darkened. It was old and wrinkly, but its muscles were like iron. Its ears were long, just like the peculiar weapon that it held. A halberd. Oh yes, I think its name was Raibeart.

From the glowing circle, my thrall comes forth. It looks perfect. What an upgrade! Accursed energy flows through its veins and smoke pours out from its orifices.

“Meree, get back!” The elven meat sock screams. “That’s General Raibeart.”

“What? How?”

“[Accursed Arts: Deadly Strike]”.

It's glorious! My creation lunges forth. The hate and misery that flows out of its strike sends shivers down my spine. The accursed energy practically wafts in the air.

The human meat sock, Meree, holds its sword in front of its chest. It calls out the spell [Defensive Aura] using its shining gloves as a conduit.

I recognize these gloves are channeling implements, allowing magic to be used in a concentrated effort. If I destroy them, then I destroy its magic. That won’t be necessary though. Not for an opponent of this magnitude.

My elven thrall bisects the meat sock in two. The ephemeral wall of aura comes crashing down as its master lies dead and defeated in a heap.

“Shit,” another of the meat socks screams. “[Earthen Prison]”!

A wall of hard-packed dirt surrounds me on all sides. It is thick and filled with roots. This male meat sock has an interesting ability. The Seed desires it in its collection.

At my waist, I have been holding onto an accursed ball of fire. This attack was a specialty of the meat sock who was my predecessor. I can still sense his spirit from time to time. Its quite annoying. This is one of those times. He is fighting me. Trying to stop me. But you cannot stop The Seed. It is against the laws of nature.

“[Accursed Fireball]”.

My attack releases, blowing my confinements to dust. The meat socks wear sickly expressions on their faces. Vomit spews out of one of their mouths.

“Hehehehe.” This is so much fun. The Seed grants me the freedom to laugh. Oh, it feels great. This vessel is amazing. Imperials are something else.

“It didn’t work!”

“How did it not blow itself up with that attack?”

“Accursed energy doesn’t effect Accursed Ones.”

“By the lords.”

Blah, blah, blah. Its my turn to attack. “[Accursed Arts: Deadly Strike]”, my thrall dances towards the bumbling meat socks. He cuts through them, painting a beautiful scene with their blood. It smells and looks divine! Only the elf and the builder mage remain in front of me, but there are many more in the wagon train behind them.

“Ga Sha To A,” I command my thrall.

“Crap, that Accursed Thrall is heading into the wagon train.”

“Bunson, try the imprisonment spell again, I have an idea!”

Do these meat socks think I am foolish? Do they think that I do not understand the common tongue?

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

From my black summoning circle, I call forth more of my minions. In my legion are elves and giants, and hundreds of peasants. The Seed has collected these specimens over many generations. It is my role to oversee their use.

My army emerges from the expanding circle of energy. An aura of death and despair surrounds the meat socks. No prison is strong enough to hold back this force.

With chunks of rotting flesh hanging off of their ancient skin, my army of The Seed barrels into the wagon train. Screams fill the air as does the sweet scent of fire and destruction. In my vision I can see through the eyes of my legion. One of my Elven Thralls has spotted fine prey. A huntress.

“[Earthen Prison]”!

Not this time.

“[Accursed Art: Dark Awakening]”.

“Nemu! Nemu! What are you doing?”

My spell corrupts any magic beast within my eyesight. Even familiars are not immune to its effects.

A strange little creature claws into the flesh of the builder mage. It rends and cleaves at its face. The half-completed prison that was building around me falls inert into a mound of dust.

The elven meat sock is beside itself. Its little friend. What is it? A squirrel. It’s feasting on the flesh of the living.

Let’s see what’s going on with the huntress. Oh, are those its intestines? They’re spilling out on the earth. How lovely! I can’t wait to taste of those entrails.

“You! You!” The elven meat sock looks at me. Tears stream out of its big blue eyes. The world as this animal knew it is over. Its friends lay in pieces along the roadway, and its army is in ruins. This will soon be the fate of the rest of the world. The Seed will not rest. With the incorporation of this Imperial vessel, the Accursed have gained newfound intelligence. No one will be able to stop the creep of the vine.

Stop! Stop doing this horrible stuff!

Arrhhh. Get out of my head. Why. Why is his will still so strong?

“Die. Die!” The elven meat sock takes advantage of my momentary moment of weakness. She charges at me with a short sword, and takes aim at my damaged left flank.

The Seed grants me energy. My veins and muscles burst full of accursed mana.

The sword swings against me with remarkable force, but it clanks off of me as though it struck iron.

I see the fear in the elven meat sock’s eyes. They bulge as I plow into its chest with an energy-infused punch.

Its body rolls and flails, landing right beside the foul beast that I corrupted. The accursed little squirrel is still nibbling on the deceased body of the male mage. It chirps and squeaks as it slurps down a bloody muscle tendon.

“Nemu,” the elf coughs up blood, it pools on the ground. “I won’t let him corrupt your soul.”

I sit down next to her side. This elf is a curious one. I can sense strange energy emanating from its tattered glove. It's white and pure. Oh so pure. The Seed desires it. This is not an ability that it is familiar with.

“Run Nemu, run.” It points her arm at the squirrel.

White energy balls at the tip of the elf’s index finger. It's so incredibly dense looking, yet also light as a feather.

The Seed is shaking. I can feel its jealousy. There is nothing like this in its collection, absolutely nothing. It wants to know what it feels like. It wants me to touch it.

“[Aura of the Healing Light]” The elf feebly says.

I jump in front of the spell. It is intended for the squirrel, but The Seed needs to know what this is. I want to know too.

“No! What are you doing!” The elf screams. I have damned its squirrel friend. Whatever power it tried to provide it, is now mine.

Oh no. No. What is this? The power is coursing through my veins. Where is The Seed’s energy? Blood, is this human blood? Why can I feel my heart beating? Why do I feel remorse? "Ahhhhh. Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh."

----

“Roderick!” I awaken from a nightmare in a cold sweat. This one was much worse than my usual torments. In this dream, I had died and was then possessed by something horrible. It made me do terrible things. I murdered people in cold blood. I danced in their entrails.

I blink.

What is that smell?

Purple fire burns around me in the ruinous remains of what looks like a convoy.

Oh my God. It was real.

My chronicle floats in front of my face. A single text box catches my eye.

Accursed Energy is Incompatible with Living Beings

Transform Energy? Yes or No.

I don’t know. Yes. Sure.

Transforming to Opposite Energy Type: Life Energy

My core spikes with excruciating pain. It feels like someone stabbed me. I can sense the darkness in me changing. It is becoming light and airy, warm and giving.

There is too much of it. It begs me to give it form. It yearns to destroy the evil that fills the air around me.

There are bodies scattered all around. Accursed beings are still busy eating and feasting on their most recent kills. It comes back to me. I summoned these things. No, that thing inside of me summoned these.

There is a girl about my age lying cold and motionless on the ground next to me. She has beautiful sandy brown hair and the most peculiar ears. I want to help her. What is this spell on the tip of my tongue? Is that what I should use in this situation?

“[Aura of the Healing Light]”, I say.

A surge of pure white energy floods out of every pore in my body. It seems to float effortlessly in the air, like droplets of water. The Accursed look at me, fear floods their desiccated faces.

The energy covers every living or dead being within my sight. It consumes the darkness and rot around me.

At the apex of a nearby wagon, I watch an Accursed Peasant’s rotting skin become firm and renewed. The purple aura in its eyes fades away.

Leaves and buds sprout on the surrounding trees. The thorns and vines that choked them wither away.

“Where am I?” A man who looks like could be my cousin stands up in front of me. He seems dazed and confused, but altogether fine. A furry little squirrel rests on his shoulder. “What is this place?”

“Where is the Academy?” A woman taps my shoulder. I saw her lying in two pieces moments ago, but now she appears fine. What did my spell do? Did I save all these people?

The girl with the peculiar ears stands up. Her face is sullen and practically seethes anger.

“You.” She says to me.

“Um, hi.” I scratch at my neck.

“Die.” She lunges at me in a fit of rage. Her fists fly towards me, but she is quite clunky and easy to dodge.

“Please stop. I want to talk to you.”

“Why should I?”

“I’m sorry if I hurt your friends. I didn’t mean to.”

“Like hell, you didn’t”.

“Stop and look.” I grab her by the shoulder and twist her around.

She stops and stares. The forest is now in full bloom.

“How did this happen?” I feel the tension in her shoulders release.

“It was your spell,” I tell her, “it healed me, and everyone else here. You're a hero!”