Its eyes darted at the horrified magi. It howled a begging, so its soul to be freed from the necromancer’s slavery. Red glows from its wide-open eyes intensified the mean.
“Oh, look at you fellas. Very, very, very delicious! You will all be my bondsmen!” shrieked the necromancer.
“No one wants to be your thrall." Alicia stood her ground, challenging him. "Off with you, necromancer!”
“Oh, is that so, pure Arcane bitch?” He cackled at his own immoral affront. "Allow me, then, to introduce one of my most exquisite works: Plaxenin-3499."
Plaxenin-3499. The name alone was enough to send shivers down the spines of those present. The name itself hinted at an abomination, a nightmarish experiment birthed from the twisted mind of the necromancer. Behind its vacant, glassy eyes, the creature's pitiful wails revealed a desperate yearning for death, for liberation from the shackles of its corrupted form.
"Let's play a game, shall we?" the necromancer suggested with a grin. "A cast and clash. Fight Plaxenin-3499 with your divine might. If you can withstand its spit, maybe we could fight for another day. Fail? Well, Plaxenin-3499’s magic will turn you into my corpse’s thrall. Then I’ll turn all the magicians in this room, too! Imagine the power I'll wield, with Khaos and Arcane in the palms of my hands!" he cackled, his voice echoing through the room.
Alicia dismissed the necromancer’s boasts. “Wielding Khaos and Arcane together? You sure are joking yourself!”
“Oh, you’re not a mage. You don’t know any better, do you?”
Despite her nerves, she stepped forward. Her stance was resolute, and the bright, hovering orb of energy flickered with vibrant stardust. The tension in the room was palpable, electric with anticipation.
“Alicia, leave the orb to us. Don’t even dare to fight him!” Bartholomew urged.
“You heard the Vice Grand Magus.” Kirillios agreed. “Stop whatever you’re going to do! He’s baiting on you, man. You can’t comprehend his Khaos magi—“
“No, I can do it. I’ll prove it to all of you—“
“There is nothing to prove! You can’t go deep into any mystic arts, so don’t be a fool to think of using pure Arcane against his dark spells, man!”
Kirillios was about to intercept her, except firing magic from the necromancer struck the floor before him.
“Ah, ah, ah,” the necromancer wiggled his erect index finger. “No one is allowed to touch her, not even a strand of her mane! I can slaughter all of you, even if I’m alone. I’m serious!”
Even Bartholomew, believed to be the strongest in the room, fathomed that this corpse conjurer was not just an ordinary mage. He was forced to tell his men to retreat.
The hall fell in total silence. Alicia and Plaxenin-3499 officially started a wild-west magic showdown.
Plaxenin-3499’s gaping mouth glowed. Looking skyward, the creature desperately contorted the muscles within its mouth, trying to expel something lodged deep within its throat due to the bereft of hands.
Clumps of writhing maggots were thrown at Alicia.
The maggot-laden vomit flickered like sparks, but it did have all the time in the world to just reach the target. A sense of hurry hit the Crimsonmane lass nevertheless, so she repelled it with a plasma shot. How agitated she was, having glimpsed her enchanted projectile sunder into numerous fragments, each careening in its own distinct trajectory.
Maybe I just saw it wrong, and my shot missed, she thought.
She was only able to fire two more shots before the blob drew closer, forcing her to form a magical shield dome. Alicia—with all her consciousness was also hit by shock—knew her eyes did not deceive her. Those shots had not been obliterated; instead, they were severed, fragmenting into disarray, evading her intended target. She had stood resolute as solid rock. Her projectiles should have effortlessly pierced through the mass, should they not?
The glob finally thumped Alicia’s force field. The maggots seemed alive, wriggling and enveloping part of her magic shield. And they reacted to the shield's very essence—as they should be.
But then, Alicia let forth a piercing scream.
Not even the ooze of the clod ever hit her but her shield alone. But who would have thought such an energy reaction would inflict upon poor Alicia the most agonising torment that dragged her closer to Hades? Her palms grew more burdensome. Her legs trembled with wild abandon.
What is it? What kind of pain is this? I'm... I'm tearing apart!
A wave of empathy washed over a few magicians as they bore witness to the tormented girl concealed behind the veil of pulsating blue magic, screaming blue murder. Nixas, one of the agents, directed a concerned gaze towards Kirillios. “Shouldn’t we get her out of there?”
Kirillios, in turn, turned his attention to Bartholomew. The man with dreadlocks did not seem too concerned.
“I can’t save people who don’t want to be saved,” Bartholomew stated matter-of-factly. “She chooses this. Just let her die being devoured by Khaos. Let her become the necromancer’s thrall. We’ll seize the magic orb as soon as the necromancer is off guard. Get the other agents to prepare.”
“B-but, she’s just a little girl! Not to mention she’s Baron Trinketshore’s daughter.”
Bartholomew turned to Nixas with wide eyes.
“I wish... I could have cared more. One little sacrifice for the whole world of thaumaturgy. Isn’t this the way of your people, Nixas?”
“M-Master Bartholomew….”
The weight of that single, startling proclamation shook the young agent's moral compass to its core.
The mysterious sting lingered like a never-ending blade stabbing, and Alicia almost forgot how to breathe. She had never felt this pain when purifying John Philo or Caleb Dune. But this? This was something else, something she could not think of. Her power was drained away by her magic, and too bad her brain did not get any intake of it.
Her magic shield, usually a bastion of protection, was seared by the maggot lump. The once seamless barrier was now fragmenting into countless iridescent bubbles, as if being consumed by some unseen force. The bubbles danced and drifted, a testament to the shield's rapidly diminishing size and power.
Alicia gave up against her will. Her focus had dissipated and her shield was gone.
Here arrived the awaited moment. The agents were already preparing to snatch Orb from the girl’s hands before the necromancer controlled her and Orb in a lifeless state. But Nixas, torn between his loyalty and his conscience, stole an early turn. With a sudden shove, he pushed Alicia out of harm's way, and the writhing maggots cascaded onto his left arm.
Nixas screamed in agony as the maggots burrowed into his flesh, multiplying in number and devouring his limb. In a desperate move, he summoned a magic circle, a shining ring of power that he moulded into a colossal, circular blade. With a swift stroke, he severed his infected arm.
He knew that if the flesh-eating horde reached his brain, he would be doomed to eternal existence as an undead thrall. The maggots felled, withered, and died, evaporating into nothingness.
“No, you bastard!” The mischievous necromancer showed his wrathful temper. “You should have not interfered, You should have not interfered! Plaxenin-3499! Kill them fucking all!”
Plaxenin-3499 spewed its maggots again, this time in quick succession into every corner as swiftly as Thunderkeeper’s lightning. The court hall became a panic room once again with mages in disorder.
Nixas lay pale with blood pouring from the giant hole that had once been his left arm. Alicia was also lying half-conscious. She stared at the young man in shock.
“Oh, great, I have to wipe with my right hand now,” muttered Nixas, still having time to joke in the midst of the mass panic.
“Y-your arm...,” Alicia said.
“Miss...,” Nixas whispered. “You're better worth saving.”
Regrets veiled the bespectacled girl. Was it all because her selfishness emanated again? What was the point of proving something to others when those others were as good as dead? What a foolish girl.
Alicia burst into tears. She wanted to get close to Nixas, but her whole body went numb, preventing her from moving, let alone grabbing Orb that lay a bit far from her.
“I-I’m sorry,” she cried. “I’m sorry! You shouldn’t have saved me. Why would you want to save an idiot like me?”
“Miss Crimsonmane....”
“I’m a bampot! Pure, bloody bampot! You should have waited for me to die before taking the magic ball!”
“Stop it!” Nixas coughed. “You’re a moron who doesn’t know anything about magic. But that doesn’t mean you deserve to be put to death like that.”
The rage was afire within Alicia, matching the intensity of the necromancer's evil. Trembling, she tried to support herself. Her hands rested on the ground, but they swayed like a stringed instrument. “B-bloody necromancer…!" Her voice swayed as well. "I h-hate black magic wielders! I won’t forgive you!”
The two tired crutches almost toppled the girl’s body. Now she instead took one hand in the air, trying to reach her friend, the magic orb.
“Forgive me, Silent Divine, but if Arcane allows me to kill you, I will!”
Unfortunately, that one-hand support was not strong anymore. Alicia fell unconscious.
“Nixas!” Kirillios and the agents immediately rushed to get their colleague. “Damn, you lost a lot of blood, man. Vernasius! Healing magic! Caeso, man! Protect them while I reach for the magic ball!”
Vernasius froze Nixas’ veins right away to prevent more blood from escaping. Caeso, with the magic circle in his hand, formed a stone wall from the floor to fend off the maggots attack.
Kirillios saw Orb lying a few metres away. While preparing the sealing device, he ran to it. Aware of his being, the necromancer ordered Plaxenin-3499 to fire a number of maggots at him. Not satisfied, he also sent the souls of former victims back to their corpses and sent Kirillios a barrage of mana projectiles.
Kirillios could not care less if he was drawn to the corner. He still dodged and crushed the undead without a slight sign of surrender. He let out a stream of lightning from his ten fingers, throwing away some undead. The lightning magic still brought more of their kind, so Kirilios created a whirlpool with his mana. More and more rose, he then summoned a giant boulder, then with his might, the stone was fragmented into small pebbles. A barrage of sharp crumbs blew up every part of the corpses that still had not given up. With all those efforts, Kirillios was even more cornered.
Suddenly, a shooting star hit the hall dome, then detonated the necromancer and his pet.
The Silent Divine might answer their prayers, sending bits of help from the sky! New wizards appeared, flying on magic brooms and riding gryphons, firing magic at the undead and evacuating those with souls intact.
Alas, the corpse conjurer had once again survived the kiss of death. Likewise, Plaxenin-3499. Unfortunately, the disgusting creature became even more disgusting thanks to the splattered flesh of the head, and a shiny javelin—an otherworldly exceptional magic broom—stuck into the monster’s throat. The warhead just now was a golden broom, a shimmering golden instrument of war. Plaxenin-3499 could no longer scream its agony, let alone spit out maggots.
A wizard, clad in a blue suit and sporting a fedora adorned with yellow bird feathers, descended upon the scene, landing behind a throng of undead that were closing in on Kirillios. With agile movements, he assisted Kirillios in freeing the souls bound by the rancid mage back to the underworld.Kirillios’ eyes glared at the dapper wizard. Before he could utter a word, the wizard had already cut him off.
“May I borrow it? Let me seal the magic ball,” he said.
He took the orb-sealing device from the sorcerer’s grip—no resistance from Kirillios.
“Thank you,” the wizard said again.
“Grand Magus Haddock, you bloody scoundrel!” shouted Bartholomew from afar, who seemed to have made two piles of the bodies he had hunted. “Damn you, where have you been?”
“Barthie, looking good right there! Looks like you managed this court situation rather well!”
“You haven’t answered my question!”
“Barthie, love, the necromancer is still before me. How about putting the question aside for now, and focusing on cleaning up the carcasses scattered around the hall?” []
Its eyes darted at the horrified magi. It howled a begging, so its soul to be freed from the necromancer’s slavery. Red glows from its wide-open eyes intensified the mean.
“Oh, look at you fellas. Very, very, very delicious! You will all be my bondsmen!” shrieked the necromancer.
“No one wants to be your thrall." Alicia stood her ground, challenging him. "Off with you, necromancer!”
“Oh, is that so, pure Arcane bitch?” He cackled at his own immoral affront. "Allow me, then, to introduce one of my most exquisite works: Plaxenin-3499."
Plaxenin-3499. The name alone was enough to send shivers down the spines of those present. The name itself hinted at an abomination, a nightmarish experiment birthed from the twisted mind of the necromancer. Behind its vacant, glassy eyes, the creature's pitiful wails revealed a desperate yearning for death, for liberation from the shackles of its corrupted form.
"Let's play a game, shall we?" the necromancer suggested with a grin. "A cast and clash. Fight Plaxenin-3499 with your divine might. If you can withstand its spit, maybe we could fight for another day. Fail? Well, Plaxenin-3499’s magic will turn you into my corpse’s thrall. Then I’ll turn all the magicians in this room, too! Imagine the power I'll wield, with Khaos and Arcane in the palms of my hands!" he cackled, his voice echoing through the room.
Alicia dismissed the necromancer’s boasts. “Wielding Khaos and Arcane together? You sure are joking yourself!”
“Oh, you’re not a mage. You don’t know any better, do you?”
Despite her nerves, she stepped forward. Her stance was resolute, and the bright, hovering orb of energy flickered with vibrant stardust. The tension in the room was palpable, electric with anticipation.
“Alicia, leave the orb to us. Don’t even dare to fight him!” Bartholomew urged.
“You heard the Vice Grand Magus.” Kirillios agreed. “Stop whatever you’re going to do! He’s baiting on you, man. You can’t comprehend his Khaos magi—“
“No, I can do it. I’ll prove it to all of you—“
“There is nothing to prove! You can’t go deep into any mystic arts, so don’t be a fool to think of using pure Arcane against his dark spells, man!”
Kirillios was about to intercept her, except firing magic from the necromancer struck the floor before him.
“Ah, ah, ah,” the necromancer wiggled his erect index finger. “No one is allowed to touch her, not even a strand of her mane! I can slaughter all of you, even if I’m alone. I’m serious!”
Even Bartholomew, believed to be the strongest in the room, fathomed that this corpse conjurer was not just an ordinary mage. He was forced to tell his men to retreat.
The hall fell in total silence. Alicia and Plaxenin-3499 officially started a wild-west magic showdown.
Plaxenin-3499’s gaping mouth glowed. Looking skyward, the creature desperately contorted the muscles within its mouth, trying to expel something lodged deep within its throat due to the bereft of hands.
Clumps of writhing maggots were thrown at Alicia.
The maggot-laden vomit flickered like sparks, but it did have all the time in the world to just reach the target. A sense of hurry hit the Crimsonmane lass nevertheless, so she repelled it with a plasma shot. How agitated she was, having glimpsed her enchanted projectile sunder into numerous fragments, each careening in its own distinct trajectory.
Maybe I just saw it wrong, and my shot missed, she thought.
She was only able to fire two more shots before the blob drew closer, forcing her to form a magical shield dome. Alicia—with all her consciousness was also hit by shock—knew her eyes did not deceive her. Those shots had not been obliterated; instead, they were severed, fragmenting into disarray, evading her intended target. She had stood resolute as solid rock. Her projectiles should have effortlessly pierced through the mass, should they not?
The glob finally thumped Alicia’s force field. The maggots seemed alive, wriggling and enveloping part of her magic shield. And they reacted to the shield's very essence—as they should be.
But then, Alicia let forth a piercing scream.
Not even the ooze of the clod ever hit her but her shield alone. But who would have thought such an energy reaction would inflict upon poor Alicia the most agonising torment that dragged her closer to Hades? Her palms grew more burdensome. Her legs trembled with wild abandon.
What is it? What kind of pain is this? I'm... I'm tearing apart!
A wave of empathy washed over a few magicians as they bore witness to the tormented girl concealed behind the veil of pulsating blue magic, screaming blue murder. Nixas, one of the agents, directed a concerned gaze towards Kirillios. “Shouldn’t we get her out of there?”
Kirillios, in turn, turned his attention to Bartholomew. The man with dreadlocks did not seem too concerned.
“I can’t save people who don’t want to be saved,” Bartholomew stated matter-of-factly. “She chooses this. Just let her die being devoured by Khaos. Let her become the necromancer’s thrall. We’ll seize the magic orb as soon as the necromancer is off guard. Get the other agents to prepare.”
“B-but, she’s just a little girl! Not to mention she’s Baron Trinketshore’s daughter.”
Bartholomew turned to Nixas with wide eyes.
“I wish... I could have cared more. One little sacrifice for the whole world of thaumaturgy. Isn’t this the way of your people, Nixas?”
“M-Master Bartholomew….”
The weight of that single, startling proclamation shook the young agent's moral compass to its core.
The mysterious sting lingered like a never-ending blade stabbing, and Alicia almost forgot how to breathe. She had never felt this pain when purifying John Philo or Caleb Dune. But this? This was something else, something she could not think of. Her power was drained away by her magic, and too bad her brain did not get any intake of it.
Her magic shield, usually a bastion of protection, was seared by the maggot lump. The once seamless barrier was now fragmenting into countless iridescent bubbles, as if being consumed by some unseen force. The bubbles danced and drifted, a testament to the shield's rapidly diminishing size and power.
Alicia gave up against her will. Her focus had dissipated and her shield was gone.
Here arrived the awaited moment. The agents were already preparing to snatch Orb from the girl’s hands before the necromancer controlled her and Orb in a lifeless state. But Nixas, torn between his loyalty and his conscience, stole an early turn. With a sudden shove, he pushed Alicia out of harm's way, and the writhing maggots cascaded onto his left arm.
Nixas screamed in agony as the maggots burrowed into his flesh, multiplying in number and devouring his limb. In a desperate move, he summoned a magic circle, a shining ring of power that he moulded into a colossal, circular blade. With a swift stroke, he severed his infected arm.
He knew that if the flesh-eating horde reached his brain, he would be doomed to eternal existence as an undead thrall. The maggots felled, withered, and died, evaporating into nothingness.
“No, you bastard!” The mischievous necromancer showed his wrathful temper. “You should have not interfered, You should have not interfered! Plaxenin-3499! Kill them fucking all!”
Plaxenin-3499 spewed its maggots again, this time in quick succession into every corner as swiftly as Thunderkeeper’s lightning. The court hall became a panic room once again with mages in disorder.
Nixas lay pale with blood pouring from the giant hole that had once been his left arm. Alicia was also lying half-conscious. She stared at the young man in shock.
“Oh, great, I have to wipe with my right hand now,” muttered Nixas, still having time to joke in the midst of the mass panic.
“Y-your arm...,” Alicia said.
“Miss...,” Nixas whispered. “You're better worth saving.”
Regrets veiled the bespectacled girl. Was it all because her selfishness emanated again? What was the point of proving something to others when those others were as good as dead? What a foolish girl.
Alicia burst into tears. She wanted to get close to Nixas, but her whole body went numb, preventing her from moving, let alone grabbing Orb that lay a bit far from her.
“I-I’m sorry,” she cried. “I’m sorry! You shouldn’t have saved me. Why would you want to save an idiot like me?”
“Miss Crimsonmane....”
“I’m a bampot! Pure, bloody bampot! You should have waited for me to die before taking the magic ball!”
“Stop it!” Nixas coughed. “You’re a moron who doesn’t know anything about magic. But that doesn’t mean you deserve to be put to death like that.”
The rage was afire within Alicia, matching the intensity of the necromancer's evil. Trembling, she tried to support herself. Her hands rested on the ground, but they swayed like a stringed instrument. “B-bloody necromancer…!" Her voice swayed as well. "I h-hate black magic wielders! I won’t forgive you!”
The two tired crutches almost toppled the girl’s body. Now she instead took one hand in the air, trying to reach her friend, the magic orb.
“Forgive me, Silent Divine, but if Arcane allows me to kill you, I will!”
Unfortunately, that one-hand support was not strong anymore. Alicia fell unconscious.
“Nixas!” Kirillios and the agents immediately rushed to get their colleague. “Damn, you lost a lot of blood, man. Vernasius! Healing magic! Caeso, man! Protect them while I reach for the magic ball!”
Vernasius froze Nixas’ veins right away to prevent more blood from escaping. Caeso, with the magic circle in his hand, formed a stone wall from the floor to fend off the maggots attack.
Kirillios saw Orb lying a few metres away. While preparing the sealing device, he ran to it. Aware of his being, the necromancer ordered Plaxenin-3499 to fire a number of maggots at him. Not satisfied, he also sent the souls of former victims back to their corpses and sent Kirillios a barrage of mana projectiles.
Kirillios could not care less if he was drawn to the corner. He still dodged and crushed the undead without a slight sign of surrender. He let out a stream of lightning from his ten fingers, throwing away some undead. The lightning magic still brought more of their kind, so Kirilios created a whirlpool with his mana. More and more rose, he then summoned a giant boulder, then with his might, the stone was fragmented into small pebbles. A barrage of sharp crumbs blew up every part of the corpses that still had not given up. With all those efforts, Kirillios was even more cornered.
Suddenly, a shooting star hit the hall dome, then detonated the necromancer and his pet.
The Silent Divine might answer their prayers, sending bits of help from the sky! New wizards appeared, flying on magic brooms and riding gryphons, firing magic at the undead and evacuating those with souls intact.
Alas, the corpse conjurer had once again survived the kiss of death. Likewise, Plaxenin-3499. Unfortunately, the disgusting creature became even more disgusting thanks to the splattered flesh of the head, and a shiny javelin—an otherworldly exceptional magic broom—stuck into the monster’s throat. The warhead just now was a golden broom, a shimmering golden instrument of war. Plaxenin-3499 could no longer scream its agony, let alone spit out maggots.
A wizard, clad in a blue suit and sporting a fedora adorned with yellow bird feathers, descended upon the scene, landing behind a throng of undead that were closing in on Kirillios. With agile movements, he assisted Kirillios in freeing the souls bound by the rancid mage back to the underworld.Kirillios’ eyes glared at the dapper wizard. Before he could utter a word, the wizard had already cut him off.
“May I borrow it? Let me seal the magic ball,” he said.
He took the orb-sealing device from the sorcerer’s grip—no resistance from Kirillios.
“Thank you,” the wizard said again.
“Grand Magus Haddock, you bloody scoundrel!” shouted Bartholomew from afar, who seemed to have made two piles of the bodies he had hunted. “Damn you, where have you been?”
“Barthie, looking good right there! Looks like you managed this court situation rather well!”
“You haven’t answered my question!”
“Barthie, love, the necromancer is still before me. How about putting the question aside for now, and focusing on cleaning up the carcasses scattered around the hall?” []
