"It is by the orders of His Holiness, King Deacon The Third, that I task the fourth company with hunting the practitioner of the dark arts, one who goes by the name of Necromancer of The Wrath."
Inside a carefully made stone chamber, sitting at the top of a tower.
Surrounded by marble walls, carefully made by master masons, decorated with holy symbols gilded on them.
The speaker was a priest of the Seventeenth, Vavldir, the God of Duty.
As the priest raised his hand and continued the orders, the room filled with a fortifying breeze.
"The organization that calls itself the Sins. You are hereby tasked with hunting one of their acting agents in the region."
And with the coming end of the orders, loud thunks echoed through the room.
Metal clanked as two dozen knights rose to their feet.
On the chest of their armor, five orders were engraved carefully into a gold plate grafted to the piece.
[Honor the master]
[Honor the worker]
[Honor your work]
[Live by duty]
[Die by duty]
Taking their tasks, some knights turned around and left the room.
Some stayed behind to pray.
Darmatian looked around. His eyes darted around, searching for someone.
But before he could find what he searched for, he shook in pain. A large hand, protected by a metal gauntlet, slapped his back, nearly denting the metal backplate.
"Searching for me?" A man looked at Darmatian with a large smile.
"Brother Talius."
"Senior brother Talius to you." Talius walked before Darmatian. "Now, say, why are you looking around like those newly recruited mutts?"
"Oh…" Darmatian scratched his head. "To be sure, I am not really familiar with the region of the task, so I was hoping to find someone to join."
"What? You didn't even think of asking me? Your senior brother?"
Darmatian raised both hands, taking a step back. "Not to offend senior brother, you are not the best when it comes to directions."
Talius opened his mouth, but stopped before any word got out.
He then closed his eyes, thought for a second, and nodded in agreement.
"True, true."
Talius then looked around and smiled when his eyes locked with a knight of shorter stature, praying before the statue of Vavldir.
He approached the knight, waiting until prayer ended. "Finished your duty?"
"I did, senior brother."
And soon, as the knight answered, he grabbed the knight by her collar and lifted her.
"Darmatian! Got ourselves a guide!" He turned to his younger peer, waving his free hand.
"Leave me this once, you brute!"
Darmatian closed his eyes, palm on face.
"Damn it, senior brother…"
"What guide!" The knight whom Talius lifted yelled, struggling to escape the man's grip.
"Brother Talius, please don't lift sister Hilda."
"Why? I am just making sure our guide doesn't miss us."
"You wild beast of a man, how shameless! Pray that we stand on holy grounds." Hilda grabbed Talius's hand, which held her.
Then, using both of her hands, she twisted it on the spot, causing him to drop her.
"Tsch!" Talius stepped back. "And you call me a wild beast." Still holding his arm, now a little red, he looked at Darmatian. "Look at what she has done to me!"
"Senior brother…" Darmatian just shook his head and looked at Hilda. "I am sorry for, well, him in general, but sister Hilda, we are in need of a guide for the mission."
Hilda looked at Darmatian with a confused face. Her eyes were wide open, and her head a little tilted. "Then just hire one? We get plenty of money for expeditions, you know that."
"I am aware of that, but the region I plan to search for the aforementioned necromancer just happens to be in your homeland."
"Northern Wildlands?"
"Indeed."
Hilda took a deep breath, taking a moment to think before sighing it all.
"Alright, that's where I was going to anyway. But tell your brute of a senior brother if he pulls anything similar, I am cutting his throat when he sleeps."
"Orders understood, ma'am!" Talius took a stance, his posture perfect, but his smile was mocking.
"I will try my best," Darmatian added.
"And before we go, let me get someone else as well. Someone who can be a use to us."
*****
Flaps of a massive bird flock echoed across the snow-covered forest.
As the group of four rode their horses deeper into it.
"Forests livelier than expected, ain't it?" Talius shouted.
"No!" Hilda looked up to the mixed group of birds flying just above them. "Look carefully, brother."
Talius did as told, his eyes widening in fear at the same moment. "Damn me…"
"Indeed. The foul bastard is nearby. Must be his work."
The birds that flew above them were dead.
They still flapped their wings and followed them, but their eyes had long since lost color, turning a sludgy gray; their feathers fell out, and in some of them, their flesh was half-rotten.
"Shouldn't we retreat and report?"
A voice rose from the front of the group.
It was a younger knight, one Hilda added to the group.
"No, brother Damian. He already knows we are here. If we let him go, we might lose his track for good." Darmatian shouted back.
His eyes locked at the front, his hands strong, gripping his horse's reins.
Following him, the party of knights moved deeper and deeper into the forest until a band of undead stopped them.
A mixed bag of bandits, soldiers, stolen corpses, and civilians, put as a wall of flesh.
Behind them, on a wooden throne carried by a group of humans, chained to it and clearly struggling under the weight, was their target.
A deceivingly young adult male, with pure white hair flowing from his flamboyantly decorated red cape.
The caped man stood from his throne. "Look at this, the knights of the Ever Dutiful came to present themselves to me!" He looked at the emotionless undead beneath him. "Look at your new companions!"
The knights, without getting down from their horses, approached the caped man.
"The one named Necromancer of The Wrath. For the name of the Great Ever Dutiful, Vavldir. We are here on behalf of King Deacon the Third to execute your sentence."
Darmatian drew his sword and aimed at the necromancer. "Surrender for your crimes, and your death be painless."
"What!" The necromancer screamed. "What crimes have I committed!?"
The necromancer looked at the enslaved people below his throne. "I am innocent, tell them!"
One of the struggling men, barely holding on, managed to open his mouth. His eyes locked with the knights; he could only whisper. "Please… end it."
And as soon as the man spoke, a pillar of stone emerged from the ground, shaped like a spear; it pierced through his chest and exploded inside, turning the organs into a red, fleshy sludge.
"Damn it, damn it, damn it!" The necromancer screamed. "I feed you, I give you work, I even honor you with my presence, bastard, bastard, still lying to my face! Damn it!"
He then turned to the knights. "Your kin, yes, he was your kin! Your kin lied to me! Damn you, damn all of you! So what? I am innocent, I just protected myself."
Stomping his foot on the already unbalanced throne, the necromancer started to claw his face.
His fingers were tearing the flesh apart, but before even blood could flow out, the damage was healed to perfection.
"Can't trust them. Must protect myself." He turned to the group, glaring at them with bloodshot eyes. "Kill them!" He screamed with his cracking voice before crawling into a ball, unleashing the army of undead around him towards the knights.
And then.
Then.
There was just pain.
Erwin, no, Darmatian, maybe both?
They looked down at their bodies, tortured, wounded. Scars running long along their beaten body.
They then looked up, their arms chained to the wall. Rusty, worn metal scratching the skin below.
"So, this is how it ends." They mumbled in their mind.
A fog slowly took over their thoughts and sight.
Acceptance left them a husk.
Only for the clarity to return with pain.
A cruel, excruciating pain as their very being melted down. Not something you can easily describe.
All your nerves burning, then reforming, then connecting to others.
Under the smell of rot, and the smile of a monster in human form, they watched as they and four others melted into a gloopy flesh soup.
Their very being, the soul forced into a single, unnatural abomination of a vessel.
Then, Erwin finally awoke. Digging through layers of pain, hopelessness, hatred, camaraderie, hope, and more.
His consciousness buried under the emotions of another slowly rose back.
Inside an empty room, he found himself staring.
The room had an awfully familiar feeling, the one of the very abyss he tended to find himself in.
With both hands, he wiped his eyes.
And to some degree, it worked. The room he was in was a clear picture.
The wooden floorboards, chiseled stone brick walls- there was no furniture, no windows, nothing else.
The inside wasn't dark, but it had no source of light.
Only a green glimmer that was somewhat behind him.
And once he turned to the source, his eyes widened. "You…"
Erwin looked at the source of the light.
The green glimmer, the green soul, shaped in a vaguely human form, on its knees. It flickered frequently and shook as if in pain.
It looked weak, defenseless, an easy prey.
{Consume it.}
A voice rose in Erwin's mind. It was new, its tone sinister.
The soul had no features, nothing, but Erwin knew the owner of it.
"Darmatian."
The soul raised its head. Its empty face aimed at Erwin, as if staring at him.
Darmatian, no, his soul, raised both arms, revealing smaller sources of light.
"Damian, Hilda, Talius. You protected their souls."
{Consume them!}
The same voice growled again.
Erwin became sure this time: the source of the growling was the very same source of his misery.
The curse of the lich, residing deep inside. In this place, the very inner world he had. The curse was free here, just as much as he was, if not a little less, only because it was yet to infect Erwin's mind fully.
Erwin approached the lights, once again ignoring the growl. He felt the faded emotions in them.
"You took their pain, suffering, so they won't drift away and be consumed."
He didn't know how souls drifted, or why it mattered, but his mind spoke in his place. In truth, he had no idea why and how he was doing half the things he was doing. But he kept on it.
He approached the flickering green soul with open arms. "Time for you to rest as well."
The soul accepted Erwin's embrace. It let the tired soldier hug it and helped it get up.
Once standing, Erwin held the soul in his hand and led it to an exit that didn't physically exist, but he was sure they were on their way.
And once they crossed enough distance from where they stood, the soul unleashed itself.
A powerful, pure light slowly covered the very room that made up Erwin's inner world. The smaller, weaker souls followed this light, one by one, leaving him.
{Stop!} The same voice screamed once more; thus, Erwin ignored it once again.
Erwin watched them all leave, feeling a moment of happiness and gratitude. And once all were gone, he opened his eyes to the dimly lit chamber where he had fought the creature not long ago.
The melted, lifeless body lay before him, now eyes closed, and with a faint smile on its face, finally resting after a long torment.
There were no signs of the souls that once resided inside.
Erwin slowly got up from the ground. He too smiled.