[https://i.imgur.com/eY2gF5l.png]

In the searing heart of a cave, where the corrupted purple terrain decayed above and below, there sat an ancient mystical figure cloaked in tattered black robes. Crowning his withered head was a hat spiraling into the air, equally worn and brown. By his side rested a staff, atop it, a hovering crystal emitting vibrant green energies.

Before him, a grim scene unfolded – the lifeless forms of countless challengers, be they soldiers, mages, or knights, lay strewn across the cavern floor. Their futile attempts to confront the old sage had all ended in failure. Recent additions to the macabre scene included the corpses of twenty men, bearing the insignia of the southern empire but now released from service.

Yet, the mystical man appeared disinterested, his eyes devoid of vitality, his frail body barely capable of movement or breath. His gaze remained fixed on the imposing gates before him, a silent anticipation for a new adversary to emerge. Day after day, he awaited someone, anyone, to provide him with the entertainment he sought. However, the awaited moment arrived as a powerful magical aura approached. Despite the considerable gap, the vastness of the approaching power ignited his enthusiasm and curiosity. Who could possess such formidable might? With a swift motion, he rose from his seat, seizing his staff, his eyes shifting to the fresh corpses surrounding him. Tapping his staff to the ground, a mysterious green fog spilled forth, weaving through the fallen soldiers.

From the lifeless forms, the dead began to rise.

"Go!" he uttered, his voice that of an old, weathered man. "Go and bring to me the ones I seek."

Heeding his command, the undead's heads bowed ever so slightly as they clanked their swords across the cavern floor, obediently exiting the cave. Resuming his seat, he raised his hand to his brow, fingers pressing against his wrinkled forehead as he mused, "If that thing gets here, I doubt I'd last long against it..."

[https://i.imgur.com/7fgH3qs.png]

After two days of travel, the carriage finally reached the northern shore of the Southern Empire. The corruption in the land, however, proved to be more insidious than anticipated. A palpable malevolence hung in the air. In the distance, an encampment, presumably belonging to the forces of Prince Uniel, emerged. Tents were set up, along with a wooden barricade, however, Arbious using his observation magic, noted that hardly anyone was inside. With the carriage coming to a halt, the winds began to swirl, a phenomenon brought on by Arbious's surveillance magic. Meanwhile the horses refused to venture further into the corrupted terrain. Ellis, sensing an imminent threat approaching, proposed continuing on foot. The group disembarked, and Arbious, ever suspicious, eyed Ellis. Fear, too, had been scrutinizing her during the journey, perhaps harboring his own suspicions, or so Arbious had thought.

"What a pain..." muttered Ellis, her gaze fixed on the encampment. "If they're already here, we might be running a bit behind schedule."

Ellis was about Fear's height, or rather, slightly taller, but marginally. She roughly had any fat on her, recalling her daggers, it made sense that she wouldn't. Approaching her, Arbious startled Ellis, prompting her to leap back. "What were you trying to do?" She questioned; her eyes widened in surprise.

"Nothing, just trying to help." Arbious replied.

Attempting to regain her composure, she continued, "I don't need your help. Got that?"

While their exchange unfolded, Arbious gestured toward the corrupted lands. "I sense a force of undead approaching."

Ellis had already sensed them, which was why she decided it would be best to continue on foot. Turning to look, Ellis saw them at last – a legion of undead, grunting and groaning, advancing in their direction. Swiftly unsheathing her daggers, Ellis assumed an agile stance. "I'll take care of them. You two stay here."

Before they could respond, she darted forward with incredible speed, her enchanted daggers slicing through the undead's armor like butter. Fear looked to Arbious for orders, but he instructed him to stand firm. To Arbious, Ellis proved to be a formidable force, already engaging the undead with finesse. Her blades danced through the air, leaving a trail of defeated foes in her wake. The potency of her enchanted weapons was evident as they effortlessly cleaved through the unholy ranks.

So they even have someone like her on their side... I've always found it tricky to deal with her stance of combat. Luckily none of the angels have adopted this form of combat.

The undead closed in around her, but it only fueled Ellis's relentless assault. She leaped gracefully almost like a dance from one target to the next, severing heads and limbs with precision. The onslaught continued until all that remained were lifeless corpses.

"Whoa... that's really impressive! Isn't it, master?" Fear marveled, a glint of admiration in his eyes. He was clearly captivated by how graceful she looked in battle, with not a single scratch put on her. With the undead defeated, she returned without a word, not deigning to mention her achievements, considering it a routine task. While Fear was visibly impressed, Arbious remained unmoved. They were weak undead after all. Seating herself, she assumed a meditative stance. Arbious, ever questioning, asked, "What are you doing?"

"Attempting to locate... the necromancer...?" She muttered, as she fixed her gaze onto Arbious with curiosity. She could unmistakably sense the presence of potent magical forces swirling around him. She did not mention it though, choosing to ignore it, and so, with her eyes closed, the palm of her hand placed on the ground, she attempted to track back the magical traces of the necromancer through the land itself.

Arbious, intrigued, inquired, "You can locate him like this?"

"I locate traces of magic and link it back to a source," she replied. "This posture makes tracking magic easier."

"I see," Arbious acknowledged. So, she can sense the necromancer's magical energies, but not mine...? Or is her caution because she can sense mine?

After a moment, glowing wisps emerged from the ground, dancing around her fingertips with their radiant glow. Her eyes opened, as the wisps instructed her with a vague clue to what she sought. Druid magic. Their whispers were only heard by Ellis, and of course, Arbious, and their guidance followed as such. "Evil is near." The wisps whispered; their voices meant only to be heard by Ellis. If Arbious could grin, he would definitely be doing so.

Ellis, not wanting to sound like an utter fool for wasting their time, decided to come up with a lie to protect herself. Though the wisps did not guide her, she was already filled in for the details on their expedition prior to their arrival. Using this knowledge, she made it appear like it was the wisps that gave her the instructions. Getting up from the ground, she spoke, "He's deep within the corruption, further northwest from here. I sense his life force, deep within a cave. But I cannot sense further."

The northwestern region, once mountainous, now held corrupted peaks in ominous black and purple hues. The landscape showed severe deterioration, a sign of intense corruption. To march on corrupted land can reduce the life force of living creatures. I'm protecting Fear with my aura, but not Ellis. it appears that her daggers prevent the negative effects as well. Still, I'm rather impressed.

Arbious took in his sight the mountain ranges, and all around it. The corruption had spread far and wide, clearly, the necromancer knew how to spread this corruption at the very least. "There, we'll face our adversary," Ellis declared her finger pointing in the same direction that Arbious looked and the undead came from. "But just so you know, the kill is mine. Got that?"

An adventurer at heart... This is the reckless behavior that brought my forces to their knees?

"Why are you looking at me like that, you creep?" she questioned, her words directed at Fear, who had been eying her.

Flustered, face reddening, Fear dismissed the remark in embarrassment. "It's not that! I'm just really surprised by your enthusiasm. But I don't understand. Why must you get the kill?"

Arbious interjected, "You still don't have a basic idea of how magic functions, do you?"

"No... I still don't understand it," admitted Fear, a look of disappointment in his eyes.

Because of his pride and masterful knowledge of magic, Arbious felt inclined to at least let Fear know. "Essentially, magic is a fundamental force of energy, a soul as you may have it being its core, and a disposable power that naturally replenishes over time. Though each person is gifted with some sense of magical capability, through individuals it may differ, and such it is classified into a tier system."

Intrigued, Ellis paused to absorb the information.

Explaining God Tier magic would be far to complicated because it required much more than mana, so instead Arbious decided to keep it as simple as he could. "In our world, there are ten tiers of magic, each with its own set of specializations. Take druid magic, for instance; by channeling this power, one can enhance the fertility of the land. Advancing to the next tier involves perfecting the same magical practice through repeated efforts."

"I see, so it's a matter of dedicated practice over time," mused Fear.

"Yes, essentially," Ellis replied. "Are you finished here?"

Arbious interjected, "Actually, that's not entirely accurate. There are alternative paths to progression, such as using mystic tomes or accomplishing exceptionally challenging tasks. Succeeding in such endeavors grants instant magical experience and growth, propelling you to the next tier. However, it takes a lifetime for a human to advance even a singular tier through hard work alone."

"True, but crafting tomes is a rare skill, and the existing ones are incredibly expensive," Ellis countered. "Not to mention, highly illegal."

"I suppose," Arbious added. "However, it does not change the fact that it is possible."

"Master, but why are tomes illegal?"

"Is that even a question?" Ellis questioned her eyes widened by how oblivious Fear was. "Because the tomes hold immense power capable of corrupting the souls. Only a handful of tomes were ever created, and three of them belong to the demon cult under Morgana."

...?

A silence enveloped them as she mentioned her name. Fear felt like he was being picked on, not wanting to sound stupider. He wanted to ask who she was, but reading the scene, he decided against it. Instead, he attempted to summarize. "So, we have magic, magic experience, and a class system—this is a lot to grasp," Fear remarked. "But master, one more question," Fear piped in. "If advancement involves repeating tasks or overcoming challenges, does that mean facing a formidable foe like the necromancer could help Ellis rank up?"

Arbious glanced at Ellis, who chose to ignore the question.

"Possibly."

Ellis, frustration etched across her features, couldn't contain her response to Arbious' earlier statement. "My desire to take down the necromancer has nothing to do with personal growth. I'm on a personal errand here. That's why you mustn't interfere."

"Personal errand?" Fear inquired.

Glancing down at the daggers still gripped tightly in her hands, she saw her own reflection on the stained blades. "It's personal. It has nothing to do with you. Got that?"

Arbious remained unmoved, and even grinned at her remark, a gesture that sent an unsettling shiver down her spine. Despite her feelings, she summoned her strength to speak. "It has ABSOLUTELY, NOTHING! to do with you. So stay out of it!"

The mountains remained perilous, however, Arbious cast his gaze towards it. From where he stood, he could sense the Necromancer presence within, just as Ellis claimed. Though if she sought to bring down the necromancer, then that would ruin his own agendas. A crossroads were present, which to save, which to discard.

"Very well."

Those were the words Arbious muttered, though his true intent remained hidden from the two. For he had already decided upon his action. Should she fail to defeat the necromancer, then she would be discarded. Should she win, then the hand of fate had decided, and the addition of the necromancer would have been a unimportant addition to his ranks.

She leveled a suspicious gaze at Arbious before releasing a faint sigh. "I'll hold you to your word then," she said, her voice carrying a hint of reluctance. "I would venture into the mountains alone, but my queen has requested your presence. Thus, I will comply, though I'd rather not... Never mind that. We shouldn't waste precious time. With every passing moment, that fiend claims more innocent lives. His reign of terror must end today."

"Forgive me for asking, but what do you mean by that?" Fear inquired.

"The forces of Prince Uniel have already engaged the necromancer."

"And how do you know this?" Arbious questioned.

Though they stood far away, she could still see the camp quite clearly. This trait was brought on by her demi human race, allowing her physical capabilities to surpass human limits, including sight. "The camp over there isn't heavily armed. They must have dispatched their forces to confront the necromancer. I assume their initial attempts have failed, given the undead that attacked us. That means we must defeat the necromancer before more lives are lost."

"I see, so our time is indeed precious," Arbious remarked. "Very well then, we will follow you. Please, lead the way."

And so, the trio delved into the depths of the dark, purplish mountain, leaving the carriage behind. Their sights were fixed on the path ahead, determined to confront the impending challenge.

[https://i.imgur.com/lhqCDcB.png]

The rhythmic echoes of footsteps reverberated through the bat-infested cavern, tainting the already present corruption of the cave by malevolent magic. As the footsteps drew nearer to the heart of the cave, the necromancer, seated upon his ominous throne, braced himself for the impending encounter.

He readied himself, a surge of anxiety coursing through him. The magical essence he had detected earlier exuded an unmistakable air of malevolence and wickedness. A dark force, unfathomably powerful, had set its sights on him—a being capable of wielding magical forces that could level entire nations. The mana within the cave surged, and the whispers of darkness taunted him, echoing laughter that belittled his existence. Determined to prove his worth, the necromancer steeled himself to stand his ground against this ominous intruder.

The flickering crystal signaled the opening of the throne room gates, and the necromancer, already poised for confrontation, faced the trio entering the chamber. With his staff in hand and his hat draped over his back, his bald visage exposed, one eye missing, the other glaring white, he exuded an eerie presence. Straightening his back with audible cracks, the necromancer observed the trio entering. A quick count revealed three visible figures, with a fourth shrouded in an invisibility cloak. The trio appeared unaware of the concealed presence, and so the necromancer opted to overlook it for the time being.

The first figure, a cloaked young girl, hinted at the prowess of an assassin, her physique betraying her intentions. Enchanted daggers at her side only solidified the necromancer's assumption.

The second, a seemingly unremarkable young man, offered no apparent threat. Lacking both magical and physical prowess, he bore no weapons, making him appear inconsequential.

The final entrant, a towering figure clad in black robes, emanated an aura of malevolence. His long black hair cascaded like a shadowy waterfall, his eyes burning with fiery intensity. Through the necromancer's magical sight, the intricate runes etched onto the robes revealed a masterful work of arcane craftsmanship—a relic of unimaginable power. Further magical detection exposed the true nature of this figure: a monstrous entity that sent shivers down the necromancer's spine.

His magical readings reached unprecedented levels, surpassing any known benchmarks, and an oppressive darkness emanated from the enigmatic figure. Despite the meticulous concealment through arcane runes, the necromancer, with his heightened perception, could discern the overwhelming malevolence surrounding this entity. It was a creature beyond comprehension, a monster among monsters, possessing unimaginable strength in both the physical and magical realms.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

As the necromancer absorbed this information, an aura of dread enveloped the cavern. The conclusion became inescapable—this was the Demon God, an entity of pure darkness and malevolence, the embodiment of chaos and evil.

Though the necromancer grappled with the loss of some senses, a growing sense of fear and anxiety seized him. The pressing question echoed in his mind: Why would the Demon God be in the company of two seemingly insignificant humans? The uncertainty drove the necromancer to the brink of panic, as he struggled to comprehend the unfolding situation and the ominous alliance before him.

Ellis wasted no time as she lunged forward, daggers unsheathed, intent on attacking the necromancer without uttering a single word. Her swift movements propelled her towards the dark sorcerer, a deadly determination burning in her eyes. The necromancer, anticipating her assault, conjured a defensive barrier of skeletal minions, intercepting her initial dagger strike. With a wave of his staff, bolts of necrotic energy shot towards her.

Mid-air, repelled by the skeletal blockade, Ellis contorted her body with incredible agility, evading the deadly bolts before landing gracefully a few steps back. Poised for another charge, she faced a new challenge as the necromancer raised his staff, intoning the ominous words, "Summon Abominable." A massive bloated zombie materialized in the room, a fourth-tier undead known as an abominable.

This particular abominable was no ordinary foe; it possessed a unique trait. Its decaying body was covered in toxic and necrotic spores, capable of infecting others. Its dislocating hand allowed the monster to reach and grasp its prey an unnatural distance. Although lacking offensive prowess, the abominable proved formidable in defense, showcasing an uncanny ability to protect itself.

Arbious viewed the abominable as weak and ineffective, however he was curious as to how it held its own against a foe of its own level. Ellis, undeterred by the new opponent, propelled herself towards the abominable with her glowing daggers. That was when Arbious noticed the enchantments on her blades—a holy power that served as the bane of necromancers, ideal for combating both demons and undead.

In a swift move, Ellis aimed for the abominable's neck, seeking to exploit its potential weakness. The undead creature, however, raised its hand offensively, extending its arms unnaturally to catch her in its formidable grip. Despite her struggles, Ellis found herself ensnared, and the abominable, with a swift motion, prepared to hurl her against the wall.

The impact was brutal; Ellis collided with the wall, her back absorbing the force. As she dropped to her knees, a fiery determination burned in her eyes, directed at the necromancer who orchestrated this perilous encounter. The hatred in her gaze promised retribution for the pain she endured.

"Interesting," Arbious remarked with a hint of intrigue. "So you're capable of summoning an Abominable. That makes you... a lich?"

The necromancer shifted his attention to Arbious, who had initiated the conversation. Sensing the power emanating from Arbious, he felt compelled to respond. "And how do you know so much about undead?"

Acknowledging Arbious's formidable dark magic, the necromancer hesitated, uncertain whether he faced the Demon God himself. After all, the Demon God had never taken a human form, as far as he knew.

"I'll take that as a yes then," Arbious replied, his confidence unshaken.

"My lord, what exactly is a lich?" Fear questioned with trepidation.

From the back of the room, Ellis erupted with fury. "YOU... you cheating bastard!!!"

All eyes turned to Ellis, who, despite her tattered cloak and the aftermath of the impact, stood defiantly with daggers at her side. Her rapid, heavy breathing accentuated her determination, fueled purely by adrenaline. "You... you won't get away with this!! I won't let you!"

The necromancer instinctively took a step back, his composure faltering as he witnessed the fury in Ellis's eyes—manifestations of a deep-seated anger. Recognition dawned on him, and he began to piece together her identity.

"Ah yes... You were the one... I remember perfectly now... You were one of those orphans brought to me as an offering," he admitted, a sinister grin playing on his lips. "You, I remember perfectly... the only one with such determination. Somehow you managed to escape..."

Ellis, stood tall despite her worn appearance, as the necromancer continued, "Yes... That's right. You ran away that day... And I looked all over for you. How does it feel to abandon your own family to save yourself? And I am the coward?"

The necromancer's attempt to inflict emotional wounds on Ellis inadvertently drew him into a momentary lapse of forgetfulness of Arbious's presence. Collecting himself, he adjusted his spiraling brown hat.

"I did not run away! I had no choice! I will avenge them!"

"Avenge what? A fifteen-year struggle over the dead? Girl, that is obsession at its finest," the necromancer scoffed. "And when one gives in to the darkness, their faith is shattered, and so their powers in light diminish, as you can see." he gestured to her daggers.

Ellis looked down at her once-glowing daggers, now devoid of their radiant aura. Her own inner turmoil was apparent, yet determination still burned within her. "These daggers... They will do just fine... I don't need holy magic to kill you... I'll do it with blunt force if I have to."

"I'd like to see you try."

Ellis launched herself even faster this time. The necromancer summoned a wall of skeletons, but in mid-air, she spun with a powerful kick that shattered the skeletal barrier, closing the distance swiftly. The abominable was too slow to react, and she slashed through the necromancer's robe. However, he teleported away, simultaneously hurling green flames at her, which she skillfully dodged.

"Teleportation too? Coward. Is all the magic in your arsenal meant to be used for running away?"

"I am a mere lich; I cannot afford to fight in melee combat."

Ellis spat on the ground, wiping sweat from her face. Arbious extended a hand, but she halted him with a glance. "Don't interfere."

Once again, she assumed an agile stance, poised for attack. However, the necromancer seized the initiative, unleashing a malevolent incantation, "Finger of Pain." The 5th-tier spell propelled a dark energy bolt that struck her in an instant, its tendrils resembling lightning gripping her in agonizing pain. She screamed as the tormenting lightning hurled her against the wall, continuing its cruel assault. The necromancer took perverse pleasure in her suffering until Arbious intervened.

With a sweeping motion of his palm, Arbious siphoned all the negative energy from the necromancer's bolt. The dark energy coalesced into a black magical orb, only to be effortlessly crushed by Arbious.

"My lord..." Fear mumbled, uncertain of what else to say.

Arbious gazed down at Ellis, his voice commanding, "Stand up." And yet despite the persistent pain coursing through her, she heard the words, attempting to rise. "STAND UP!" Arbious commanded again, but her strength waned. Seeing her struggle, Arbious continued, "Pathetic human. You couldn't even entertain me" Arbious remarked with a hint of disappointment etched in his voice and face.

"Human...?" the necromancer muttered.

"Yes... Human. You mortals are far too inferior to refer to as anything but," Arbious remarked with disinterest, with a black aura growing around him. "Weakness. Such incompetence. Not worthy of my attention at all." He mused.

The necromancer, in a desperate attempt brought on by his anxiety and growing fears, launched necrotic bolts at Arbious, but they abruptly dispersed as Arbious focused his gaze on his form. In a flash, the necromancer felt a sudden depletion of half his mana reserves, while Arbious's mana surged. A realization struck the necromancer—his mana had been transferred to Arbious.

"A good attempt, yet lacking finesse. At the very least, when you attempt a sneak attack, make sure it's quick and an actual surprise."

Despite being an undead, the necromancer's bones shivered uncontrollably. If he could sweat, he would have been doing so. If he could feel emotions, it would be fear. Before him stood a true monster, and the dark aura emanating from Arbious intensified, as if siphoning the souls of everyone in the room, molding them into some sinister contraption and consuming them.

Arbious's full attention turned to the necromancer. "You will bow down now, apologize for your transgressions, swear absolute loyalty to me, and do my bidding."

Meeting Arbious's cold, blood-red eyes, the necromancer understood this was not a mere command but an absolute order. Failure meant certain death on the spot. Analyzing the situation was a luxury he couldn't afford. One wrong move equated to certain demise. Yet, he couldn't bring himself to bow down blindly without fully comprehending the extent of the power before him. "Why not show me something worth bowing down to, then?"

Arbious was on the brink of ending the necromancer's life when Ellis, despite her weakened state, seized his arm. "No... He is mine to kill. Don't get in my way."

His red eyes turned to Ellis who was pleading with him. Her eyes still held the flames of hatred against the necromancer. However, by now it was clear who was stronger. The necromancer, under the right conditions, would prove to be far more useful than she could ever hope to be. With that, Arbious's grip tightened around Ellis's throat, lifting her off the ground as she gasped for air. "You are no longer powerful enough to beat him. Your services are no longer required," Arbious mocked, his voice dripping with malevolence. However, before he could relish in the moment, a sudden shout pierced the air.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?!" A man's voice erupted as he unveiled himself, revealing an enchanted bow. "Let her go now!"

Observing from the shadows, the necromancer mused, "About time he revealed himself."

The ranger aimed his bow at Arbious, but fear clutched his heart as well. Despite Ellis's struggles, Arbious's grip remained firm, her movements slowing, and her eyes losing their luster. "Should I intervene?" the necromancer pondered, "No... It's far too dangerous to get caught up in this at the moment. I'm not even sure who I'm supposed to fight... This is a rather delicate situation."

Arbious released his hold on Ellis, and she fell to her knees. However, the danger persisted as Arbious's eyes locked onto the newly revealed man. "You must be the ranger then. About time you revealed yourself. I suppose you came here as a backup in case she failed?"

"She wouldn't have failed had you not stopped her!"

As the Arbious approached the ranger, the dark aura surrounding Arbious intensified with each step. "Was this an attempt to kill me rather than the necromancer then? Did Anna set this entire encounter up to test my strength?" He questioned, as fear and trepidation seized the archer, who released an enchanted arrow aimed at Arbious. Yet, the moment it reached its target, the arrow disintegrated into black flames, turning to ash.

"What in the hell are you?!?" he questioned. Sensing imminent death, the ranger swiftly donned his invisibility cloak and fled to the corner of the room. However, Arbious's eyes, or rather, his all-seeing eye, tracked his every move. "You cannot hide from the all-seeing eye."

Upon hearing these words, the necromancer gulped in sheer terror. The all-seeing eye—an apex of dark magic belonging to the Demon God himself, was being used before his very eyes. "So it is him..." he muttered in disbelief, the confirmation apparent in Arbious's growing powers and aura. This must be the Demon God's human guise, named Arbious, for reasons unknown.

Before the ranger could mount another attack, dark tendrils emerged, enveloping him in an inescapable grip. Arbious approached as the struggling ranger found himself ensnared. "What is this? What are you!? Let go of me!"

"Finger of Death."

Arbious cast the dark magic, unleashing lightning-like tendrils with intensified strength brought on by his aura in a blend of black and crimson hues. The lethal strike hit the ranger with an unparalleled force. In an instant, his body exploded from within, organs scattered across the room, blood staining walls and floor, even splattering onto the necromancer's hat and staff.

"Finger of death... A magical spell of the 9th tier, the next level of finger of pain, an absolute death..." The necromancer muttered.

Fear's knees buckled beneath him. The extent of his master's evil became glaringly apparent. What was he truly serving? Even the necromancer felt weakened, understanding the reason. Arbious absorbed the fear and dread in the room, fortifying himself with each passing moment.

At last, Ellis rose from her despair, a tear tracing down her cheek. "You... My brother... you killed him..."

Arbious remained silent.

"You... killed him... how... could you..."

"It's time we end this farce."

Arbious turned to Ellis, a sinister gleam in his eyes as he raised his finger, brimming with ominous intent. His finger pointed directly at Ellis, who could barely stand under the weight of impending doom. In that slight moment, Ellis felt her life flash before her eyes, knowing that her death was imminent. As he readied himself to extinguish her life, mirroring the fate he had bestowed upon the ranger, her brother, an unexpected twist unfolded before him.

Fear, summoning every ounce of strength within him, his legs trembling with resolve, positioned himself between Arbious and the vulnerable Ellis. "IF YOU'RE GOING TO KILL HER, THEN KILL ME TOO!" he declared defiantly.

This act of courage caught Arbious off guard, as he never expected Fear, of all people, to stand in his way. Admittedly, it was commendable.

"Fear, get out of the way," Arbious calmly spoke, maintaining his collected demeanor.

"No," Fear replied resolutely. "I will not."

While Arbious exchanged glances with Ellis, who struggled to regain her footing, daggers still clutched in her hands, a sudden twist of fate unfolded. Before Arbious could react, a dagger plunged into Fear's back. Softly whispering her gratitude, Ellis spoke to Fear, "Thank you," as he crumpled to the ground.

Although still conscious, the effects of blood loss left Fear incapacitated. The world spun around him, his face turned upward, and then, a red lightning streaked across the room. In a flash, blood sprayed into the air, droplets landing on Fear's face and body. As his consciousness waned with the intensifying blood loss, he succumbed to a state of semi unconsciousness.

In the cavern's silence, the necromancer remained alone with Arbious. In that moment, he understood what he must do. Bowing deeply on his knees, he sought Arbious's attention, who instructed him to rise. "Oh great lord of Evil, I see now, with my one blind and other functional eye, you for who you truly are. I apologize for my transgressions." The necromancer pleaded. "Had I been competent, I would know in an instant."

"Pledge me your services once more necromancer."

"My lord, I solemnly swear my unwavering allegiance, a pledge extending through life and the embrace of death. With every breath I draw, I dedicate myself to your service. I shall be the harbinger of your vengeance, relentlessly pursuing and toppling your adversaries. In the pursuit of glory, your name will be exalted, striking terror into the hearts of those who stand against you. My lord, I, Edard of the Fallen, declare this oath with unyielding devotion to your great name."

He is with the Fallen? If I recall, The Fallen were a rogue group of elite necromancers during the first war. Alpos mentioned them a few times before. They were rather formidable, however only as a trio. It was because of that we never bothered with them considering the other two are dead.

"Very well. You may now tell me. What was your purpose in the south, Edard?"

"My lord, under the leadership of Morgana Blackblood, I journeyed south." He spoke, attempting to gain some semblance of a chance of survival.

"The first cardinal, yes?" Questioned Arbious, attempting to ensure he spoke true.

"Indeed, my lord."

"What was her purpose in the south?"

"Experimental research, my lord."

"Hm?" Arbious questioned.

"My lord, if I may. We were experimenting on demi-humans to grant them holy powers. Ellis was one of those subjects. As you saw earlier. We aspired to create a race capable of sustaining holy-infused weapons and magic through genetic modification and breeding."

"To what purpose?"

"Lady Morgana sought to enhance her own powers by allowing herself to wield holy weapons. It was to those ends that we engaged in this research, of course, without the knowledge of the demon army during that time. She instructed us to maintain our efforts in utter secrecy."

"And yet you ceased?"

"My lord, our experiments bore fruit, however, Lady Morgana severed communications with us about 13 years ago. Without leadership, I took it upon myself to corrupt the Southern Empire."

"And a fine job you have done." Arbious replied sarcastically, hinting to how prosperous the empire was.

"Thank you, my lord," the necromancer spoke. "But may I inquire why this form? And why have you sought me out today?"

"I cannot delve into details. All you need to know is that I need you gone from here. I will create a dimensional passage for you to Hellfire Citadel."

"Hellfire Citadel... My lord, will I be safe there?"

"You will. There you will meet with Alpos; do as he instructs. You are no longer bound to any contract with Morgana Blackblood; you will now serve the demon army directly. Is that understood?"

"Yes, my lord." He replied, not as if he had any choice.

Arbious conjured a shimmering infernal portal, and with a defeated look, the necromancer, along with his abominable entered it. The portal lingered for a few more seconds before collapsing into itself. With the necromancer gone, left alone with Fear, Arbious approached the semi-unconscious figure on the ground. Bending to his knee, Arbious examined Fear's injuries. Though losing consciousness, Fear could sense his master watching over him. "Is she... dead?" he muttered, his eyes closing slowly.

"She is; her struggle is no more, she died a quick death." Arbious answered, though a cold tone etched in his voice, yet even so, Fear was accustomed to it now.

He smiled softly, though still bleeding, a small cough escaped his lungs. "Master... I'm... sorry..." He muttered, as he coughed up more blood. "I... please, tell my sister, that I'm..." Before he could finish, Fear slipped into unconsciousness. Fear teetered on the brink of death, and his dark magic could no longer save him. The turn of events left a lingering distastefulness in Arbious's mouth. What he needed was holy healing, a power beyond Arbious's reach. Fear's breathing became heavy and soft, and all Arbious could do was watch. Seated next to Fear, Arbious witnessed his final breaths with an unexpected twinge of... sadness. or rather, his pride was hurt in some way. That was when an idea struck Arbious - a desperate attempt to keep Fear alive. "If I turn Fear into a demon... he might stay alive. But... if his mind rejects himself..."

Rethinking the decision, Arbious couldn't bear to witness Fear's demise. "A half demi-human and half demon... Though our attempts to create them in hell were not exactly successful... But... if I use my own blood... maybe it might just work."

Puncturing his finger with his teeth, a droplet of blood emerged. Arbious brought his finger close to Fear's mouth, placing it gently on his lips. The blood dripped into Fear's mouth slowly, and Arbious patiently waited. As the blood flowed, so did Arbious's darkness intertwine with Fear. Negative energy swirled around the two, winds picking up pace. The skies above the mountains roared as a dark pact was forged. With the dark pact solidified, the atmosphere around Arbious and the unconscious Fear grew more ominous. The very essence of Arbious's demonic power intertwined with Fear's being, creating an otherworldly connection. The winds howled, carrying the weight of the unholy alliance.

Arbious, fueled by desperation and an unexpected sense of empathy, channeled more of his demonic energy into Fear. The transformation began, a delicate dance of the dark forces at play. Fear's body convulsed with dark energies as the demonic infusion took hold. The ground beneath them seemed to tremble as the transformation reached its zenith. As the process unfolded, Arbious couldn't help but wonder if Fear's mind would resist the merging of his essence with the demonic forces. The risk was great, and failure could mean the loss of Fear's very soul. Yet, Arbious pressed on.

The air crackled with malevolent energy, and the skies above the mountains grew darker. Thunder roared, echoing the tumultuous struggle within Fear's being. It was a battle not just of the physical, but of the metaphysical, a clash between the remnants of Fear's humanity and the encroaching demonic influence.

In a sudden burst of darkness, the transformation reached its climax. Fear's body, now marked by arcane symbols and demonic sigils, lay still on the cold cavern floor. The winds subsided, and an eerie silence settled over the scene. The dark magic entered him, healing his wounds. His eyes reopened, the experiment... a success.

[https://i.imgur.com/Qj0qq7o.png]