"She will serve . As my servant. As an undead whose soul will be tied to ," the man added. "But I will allow you to keep her by your side."
Alaric’s eyes filled with desperate hope.
He nodded rapidly, almost frantically, not thinking twice. For him, Lynira was everything. His lover. His life. His world.
"I don’t care... I don’t care what she becos. I just... I just want her back..." He accepted with hope.
The man stood from his throne.
Usually, he was not soone who helped anyone easily. Not even his own subordinates. But the man in front of him was an important asset, soone with great talent. He couldn’t let him break... and helping him like this would only make him more loyal. He would owe him a debt, one that involved saving the person he loved most.
He walked toward the dead body.
His movents were silent, like a shadow peeling itself from the darkness.
"Step aside," he ordered.
Alaric imdiately backed away, kneeling a few steps behind Lynira’s body.
Dark mana began to leak from the robed figure, thick and suffocating. The lantern flas flickered violently. The air itself seed to bend under the pressure.
He extended a hand toward the corpse.
A massive dark magic circle burst to life beneath Lynira, spreading across the hall, glowing with eerie purple and black light.
Symbols twisted. Lines writhed like living creatures. The ground vibrated.
Alaric held his breath, his hands shaking uncontrollably.
"Lynira..." he whispered. "Co back... please..."
The mana surged violently.
Then.
Nothing.
The circle flickered.
The glow weakened.
The air grew still.
And the magic collapsed with a harsh, empty crack.
The robed man lowered his hand slowly. His brow furrowed. Even he was slightly surprised.
"...It failed."
Usually, it took at least a full day for soone’s soul to leave the body.
So he should have been able to turn her into a ghoul... unless there was a variable.
Alaric stared at Lynira’s unmoving body.
His mouth fell open. His throat tightened.
"No... no... no... why? Why didn’t it work?!" he cried, his voice cracking apart, raw with grief.
The man turned his hooded face toward him—unreadable, terrifying.
"It seems," he said in a cold, flat tone, "that she is beyond retrieval. Who killed her?....." He paused in middle then continued. "....It is mostly related to that person. Soone who possesses so unique ability. Soone who not only killed her... but even took her soul, or made it disappear from this world."
Alaric’s vision blurred. Tears stread freely down his cheeks. His fingers dug into the stone floor hard enough to bleed.
"Lynira..." he whispered, voice hollow. His eyes burned with hatred. With anger. With pure, consuming rage.
His beloved... still dead. Even dark magic couldn’t bring her back.
"I don’t know who it was... but I swear... I will kill them... kill the one who took my Lynira from ... My Lord, can you help find who that person was? Please... I swear I will do anything you want... just tell ." His voice was hoarse, strained.
His eyes glowed with the desire to kill. The desire for revenge. To tear the culprit apart in the most painful way possible.
The man observed Alaric from under his hood.
"Alright... I will show it to you... her last movents. That is sothing possible. Stand close to her. Put your hand on her chest."
Alaric moved toward the body and knelt beside her.
He extended his hand. Trembling violently and rested it against her chest.
The man focused on them again, his lips mumbling sothing.
Another magic circle appeared below them. This ti, it was different.
The glow of the complex circle swallowed both of them.
Alaric’s eyes turned blank.
The scenery in front of him changed.
He was no longer in the dark chamber. The hall where he had been with his lord. His vision was dazed. Blurry.
But he could see the sa forest.
She was standing. Dust and smoke covering the surroundings. In front of him was a woman. The sa woman he had seen with the other professors.
Adelia Evangeline.
’Was she the one who killed Lynira?’ he thought.
He was seeing everything from Lynira’s point of view.
Just then, sothing hit against Lynira’s head.
A sound of flesh tearing. Skull splitting.
His vision began to turn red. Blood flowed down over her—over his—eyes.
She turned her head slowly to the other side.
There stood a young man.
Black ssy hair. Dark eyes. His hand extended in her direction.
She opened her mouth. "A...mon!"
She fell.
His vision snapped back to the dark hall.
He exhaled heavily, his face contorted, eyes bloodshot with rage.
"AMON! I will give you the worst death possible."
His Lord, the robed figure simply watched him with cold indifference. He didn’t care who Alaric wanted to kill. All this only made him more indebted to him.
Alaric left in fury to get information about the boy nad Amon.
Now only the man who was referred to as Lord by Alaric remained there, sitting on his throne.
To be honest, he should have been angry at Alaric, for not being able to complete the mission, not being able to kill Arnold Bigod nor Seraphina Luminous.
But just a few hours ago, he got a ssage from higher-ups to stop this mission for a while.
He didn’t get the reason for the sudden change in plans. But he couldn’t question them.
Just then, his communication crystal blinked under his robe.
He took it out and connected to it.
From the other side, a heavy and eerie voice ca. "Did you stop the mission, Darth?"
"Yes. I commanded Alaric to return imdiately. They are still alive," Darth replied respectfully.
"Good. For a while, we won’t do anything. Stop any activity that was planned for the Academy."
"As you say, Master... but may I ask... why suddenly stop every plan for which we worked for so many years?"
The other side remained silent for a while. "The future is changing. In a direction... we never anticipated. Removing those two will have too much effect on us and the whole world. So we cannot ddle with the future anymore. It’s better for us to remain hidden from the world for the ti being." His voice was serious. Grave.
Darth didn’t ask anything further. "I understand, Master."
The connection cut as the crystal beca dull again.
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