Rise of the Supreme Necromancer-Chapter 60: The Darkest Deal

Six years ago.

A youth was walking the streets of a town. Every inch of his skin was covered in various rags he stole from the clothes drying racks or from garbage. They looked, smelled, and itched terribly, making Aleric look like one of the poorest beggars. But even beggars stayed away from him, thinking that he was a leper.

Aleric stayed away from other people, too. Whenever someone looked at him, Aleric would tense, expecting an accusing shout. Instead, people went to other streets.

Finally, Aleric reached a townhouse with a bottle painted on the door—a sign of doctors in Aleshat. He knocked on the door and waited.

A minute later, a middle-aged man with a long beard came out. At the sight of Aleric’s rags, he scowled immediately.

"Sir... Please, help me, I’m sick, terribly sick!" young Aleric begged before the man could say a word.

An instant later, the man closed the door shut in front of Aleric.

"My services aren’t free, beggar boy! Go ask for help in the Church!" the doctor shouted from the other side of the door.

For a moment, Aleric just stared at the door.

"The Church..." he muttered, rubbing his empty stomach.

At this moment, some light went out of his eyes.

’A doctor refused to help me, too... But if even the Church won’t, why would anyone else? I am cursed... A monster...’

***

Aleric nodded to his thoughts and stepped away from the man.

’I still can feel my conscience clawing at me... But what’s the point? I’m a monster. For someone like me, this part of the soul is just like innocent hopes—only a scab on old wounds. When it falls off entirely, I will be healthier.’

"Soldier, you know who I am. I hid it from the other prisoners, but I’m sure you can guess what I do with your lot."

Aleric gestured at the zombies nearby. The prisoner paled a little, and Aleric’s smile grew wider and more sinister.

"Today, I will give you a chance to save your soul. All you need is to do something for me... Nothing that leaves this room. In return, you will get your eternal peace through a cremation. Nod if you agree."

The prisoner was trembling. A few seconds later, he nodded.

He knew this was the darkest deal imaginable... But the fear of becoming one of the shambling dead was too strong to resist. That, and he had hope.

’As long as I get the opportunity, I can grab this sword and try to kill the monster once and for all...’

Aleric stepped away from the prisoner and gestured for the zombies to do the same.

"I can’t use my own hands today, so you will have to do everything yourself, soldier. First, take that sword near you."

The prisoner pulled out of his gag and did just that. He also tried to step toward Aleric and his zombies, but the chain on his shackles was too short.

"B-bastard..." the man said. "Get here! Fight me!"

Aleric pointed at a zombie guard that was mute thanks to a wide gash over his throat.

Following Aleric’s silent command, the guard raised his chin, opening the old wound wide, and poked the pale meat inside with his finger.

The prisoner’s face became greener.

"If you don’t want to end up like this, do what I say, soldier," Aleric said. "Even maggots won’t eat your flesh, so much Dark magic will be in it."

The prisoner froze in place.

"Wh-what... do you want?"

"This sword in your hands... Cut off your finger with it."

"What?!"

The prisoner stumbled back. However, he saw that Aleric was dead serious. Still, this was too outrageous to even consider!

Seeing his expression, Aleric shook his head.

"Very well, let’s sweeten the deal." Aleric turned to his zombies. "Does this prisoner have any family?"

"We don’t know."

"Fine... Anyone in his cell with whom he was close, then? Any friends?"

"Yes, master. There’s another man with whom they spent most of their time together."

"Bring him here and put him on this rack. We will start with one cut per minute of ignoring my requests... Don’t forget the salt for the wounds. But!" Aleric suddenly turned to his prisoner. "Do as I say, and your friend will be left alone. I will even let him go. Free. Alive."

Tears welled in the prisoner’s eyes.

What Aleric’s zombies didn’t know was that the man in question wasn’t his friend—it was his brother.

The prisoner took the sword in one hand and put the other on the table. He raised a shaking blade over his splayed fingers and closed his eyes.

Thunk!

"AAAAAGH!"

The sword sank into the table, cutting through the wood and the prisoner’s pinky finger. Blood gushed from the open wound, and the man dropped the sword to clutch his wrist. Tears of pain were going down his cheeks.

Energies of pain and desperation filled the air.

Aleric sensed the sword’s Light magic waver a little. The Dark miasma was eroding the spell like a river eroding a stone.

It was happening! Aleric’s idea was working! Now it didn’t matter how cruel he was being. The pain of the prisoner stopped touching him at all. It was just something to use.

The Dark emanations seeped past all the blade’s defenses in a way Aleric’s magic couldn’t. At the same time, Aleric was free to recover his mana through his.

"Quickly, put a tourniquet over his hand!" Aleric ordered his zombies.

Soon, the bleeding was stopped with a leather belt below the prisoner’s elbow. The zombies let the prisoner go again.

"Will... will you kill me now?" the prisoner rasped.

"Not yet. Cut another finger."

The prisoner trembled harder than ever before, but took the sword again.

This time, his hand wouldn’t make the strike at first. The memories of terrible pain were too fresh.

"Bring this soldier’s friend here..."

"NO!"

Thunk!

"Auuuuuugh!..."

This time, there was almost no blood as the prisoner’s ring finger rolled on the floor. Again, the emanations of pain and despair were seeping into the blessed sword...

Following Aleric’s merciless orders, the prisoner cut off all the fingers on his left hand one by one. On the third, he was sobbing uncontrollably and barely able to hold the sword—a zombie had to splash him with water. On the fourth, Aleric suggested putting salt in the prisoner’s wounds—that gave him a motivation to continue.

On the fifth, the prisoner’s eyes went entirely dead.

"Can... Can I just die...?"