There were only ten minutes left. Lucian's heart beat like a clock, each thump a herald of the approaching end.
He could not imagine killing an innocent person. The thought burned him from within and gnawed at his soul.
Yet on the other hand, reclaiming his wife's soul depended on it.
He had to spill blood to save her soul. Did it have to be the blood of an innocent?
He remembered the hunters' words.
Spill blood and feel the pain, they had said. He thought carefully and realized the actual condition was not killing but shedding blood.
The importance of that difference struck him in that instant.
Kneeling on the ground, a single idea flashed in his mind. If he raised the body of someone newly dead, he could spill that blood and feel the pain.
That would fulfill the requirement without making anyone else share the sin.
He rose at once. His staff was in his hand. The necromancy skill was already active.
There was no longer any need to gather materials. He only had to speak the words. He drew a deep breath and stepped to the doorway.
The night air was cold, carrying the scent of death. In the world of mages, people died every night, and the streets always held the trace of fresh blood.
Lucian lifted his staff toward the sky, his eyes glinting in the dark. Familiar words began to spill from his lips.
"Obal'eth nār, veyra keth illum, ashrel vor, keth'anul mar. Thanix vel, aevum seir, mortis bindrel, anima voss, nyra-loom ascend, veiltide open."
The echo of the words sank into the depths of the earth. A rumble rose from below. Black smoke seeped through the cracks, the cold air shivered.
Then a dry hand appeared, followed by a skull. The earth split, and a skeleton rose.
Bones locked together, the eye sockets filled with violet light. Lucian did not step back. Time was running short.
He repeated the spell. He spoke the same words again, more firmly and louder. This time there was movement in another patch of ground.
Then another skeleton, and then another. When he spoke the spell a fourth time, the damp smell of the soil filled his throat.
This time the rising body had bones wet with blood. There was still skin and flesh upon it. The dead had been recent.
Lucian raised his head. In front of him stood four dead bodies in a row, like soldiers awaiting orders. Their eyes were empty, but they were obedient.
He drove his staff into the ground and took a small knife in his hand. With the tip of his finger he felt the cold of the steel.
He knew the consequences of what he was about to do. He would not feel pain, but he would lose something of himself. A piece inside him would be gone.
He closed his eyes and whispered, "I am sorry."
He pressed the knife to his throat and the sharp metal split his skin. Warm blood ran down, reaching his ankles.
The scent of blood filled the air. Lucian clenched his teeth, and his vision darkened.
A blue light appeared in the sky, and words burned before Lucian's eyes.
[System Notification]
Corruption +0.8%
The text vanished without any reaction. The dead body still stood upright.
Lucian threw the knife from his hand, his fingers were smeared with blood.
His eyes were fixed on nothing. He was sad, but his purpose was clear. The end of this road was darkness, but there was no other path.
He smeared his blood across his face with his hand. Red lines dried along his cheeks. In that moment something happened.
The past of the corpse he had raised resounded in his mind.
The bond formed by the spell had carried the pain. Every torment the man had suffered throughout his life came alive again in Lucian's veins.
His vision darkened and his body shook. It had been the life of a farmer. Poverty, hunger, beatings, humiliation.
The tortures he endured before his death were carving themselves into Lucian's bones.
His knees gave way, and he collapsed to the ground. The pain was unbearable.
It felt as if someone were burning his organs, breaking his bones, and shattering his mind.
He could not breathe. He wanted to scream, but no sound came. And the darkness swallowed him.
He did not know how long had passed. Perhaps a few minutes, perhaps hours.
When he woke, the sky was still dark. He found himself on the stone floor. Two silhouettes stood over him. They were hunters of the Dark Council.
Their faces were masked, and even their shadows seemed like a cold threat.
One of the hunters bent down and took him by the arm. "Stand," he said. They lifted Lucian to his feet. Lucian's head was spinning. He could still taste blood in his throat.
One of the hunters stepped forward, his voice as hard as stone.
"Whom did you kill, and how did it feel?"
Lucian's mind was fogged. The sentence echoed in his ears, and he could not make sense of it for a while.
He moved his tongue, and the words spilled from his mouth on their own.
"A farmer, crushed and beaten his entire life. Poor. It felt truly good. I think I want more."
Even he did not realize what he had said. He did not know whether he truly thought those words or if it was a trick of the dark.
But he knew he could not show weakness before the hunters. In their eyes he had to be a student, a candidate. He had to appear like them.
One of the hunters nodded. "Fine," he said, his voice resounding.
"You are free for twenty-four hours. After that, your entire existence and your life will be governed by the Dark Council. During this process you will receive training at the academy, and you will become one of us. In twenty-four hours, wait for us at this exact spot."
As soon as the words ended, their bodies darkened. They turned to dust, even their shadows dissipated into the air.
Only silence remained.
Lucian stood where he was for a few seconds, then drew a deep breath.
He could barely stay on his feet. He headed for the house. When he opened the door, it felt as if even the air inside sensed his exhaustion.
The traces of spells hanging on the walls had faded. The fireplace had gone out. Lucian stepped inside and set the staff on the table. His shoulders had collapsed.
Everything he had gone through in the last two days had completely drained his body. He had sent Lumi on the side quest, yet a corner of his mind still clung to her.
He wondered where she was and whether she was safe.
"I should rest a little," he murmured.
He slowly climbed the stairs. He stood before the mirror. He raised his hand, and his lips moved.
"Ash Factoriusy."
The mirror darkened at once. Gray vapors swirled across its surface. Then an image appeared. Lumi was there. She was walking in the region where her quest took place.
There was mist all around and almost no light. Lucian looked carefully, and words appeared in the upper right corner of the mirror.
[Quest: Trace of the Soulstone]
Progress: 12%
Status: Active
Even this small bit of progress brought a little peace to his heart. Lumi continued her mission, at least she was still safe.
Lucian watched the mirror for a while longer. As he watched her, his eyelids grew heavy.
He lifted his hand and broke the spell. The mirror returned to an ordinary glass surface.
He moved toward the bed, and the instant his head touched the pillow, the fatigue in his body spread through every limb. He closed his eyes, and sleep came at once.
There was the smell of blood in his dream and a cold blade at his throat. Even in sleep he had not forgotten the pain.
And that single question echoed in his mind, ringing like a curse within the silence:
"What would happen 24 hours later?"