6. Bloodless Scars Morning light prickled at her eyes. The breeze coming in from the open window stirred her long black hair. Such brightness was wholly unwelcome. Instinctively, she curled up and pulled the pillow over her face. She tried to fall back to sleep, but someone tapped lightly at the back of her head. “Wake up, Tinasha.” She heard him speak but couldn’t comprehend the words. Resisting, she shook her head underneath the pillow. Heartlessly, he kept going. “Wake up, wake up. You’re terrible at getting out of bed in the morning.” He grabbed her arms and pulled her upright, but she quickly flopped back down before he could keep her in place. He eyed her prostrate form with dismay. Sighing, he hoisted her up into his arms. “I’m going to toss you into the bathtub.” “Ugh…” Her dark eyes blinked open. “You better not go back to sleep, got it? I’ll pinch you if you do.” “Mm-kay… Morning, Oscar.” “Every day you test my patience, I swear.” The words were harsh, but inside them was a deep and abiding affection. She gave an absentminded smile. With her arms wrapped around his neck, she slowly slid down until she was standing. After a pause, she yawned. Blue sky could be seen through the window. “Nice weather today,” she commented. “Do you want me to take you out somewhere? I’ve got Nark, so it wouldn’t require much time.” Her eyes grew wide. Hope blossomed inside her heart. She was quick to squelch it, however. “There’ll be trouble if anyone finds out I’m gone. But thank you.” “You’re still a kid. You should get to take a break,” he argued, stroking her hair. Her eyes went half-lidded like a cat’s as she grinned. When she opened her eyes, the room was already light. Tinasha pulled away the arm she’d flung over her face. Didn’t she already get up? For some reason, she was in bed again. Though her body was sluggish to respond, she managed to drag herself upright. Someone asked calmly, “You up?” Tinasha looked over to see a man getting changed, facing away from the bed. She recognized the broad stretch of his back. Sleepily, she replied, “Mm-hmm. Good morning. I’ll go make breakfast…” “What?” he questioned sharply, turning back to look at her. She blinked at him in confusion, her head tilted to one side. “What’s wrong, Oscar?” “What’s wrong with you?” “Huh?” Tinasha shook her sleep-addled head. Looking around, she saw that she wasn’t in her room. Glancing down at herself, she noticed that her body wasn’t the skinny frame of a teenage girl. She had soft, womanly curves. She looked back over at the man who had paused mid-dressing, his arms through his shirt. Abruptly, her memories returned. “Oh… I—I think I was just half asleep. Sorry.” “Wake all the way up. You’re so bad with mornings.” Tinasha gave her flushed cheeks a light slap. She had confused a dream from her younger days with reality. The rooms she lived in then no longer existed. She was in the king of Farsas’s bedchamber. Looking down at herself again, she realized she was wearing the same clothes as she had the day before. “Did I fall asleep here?” “You went out like a light. You’re a champion sleeper and yet so very, very bad at getting up. How long did you plan on staying in bed?” Oscar chided. “Urgh… I’m sorry…” Tinasha swung her legs over the side of the bed to sit on the edge of the matress. She glanced at the clock and paled. “I—I’m going to be late… I have a meeting…” “I thought you might. That’s why I tried to wake you, but you completely refused,” Oscar replied. He was now fully dressed, and he tossed her a teasing smirk. Tinasha shrunk in on herself like a scolded child. Even home in Tuldarr, she was a poor riser. Often, she only just barely managed to drag herself to the bath in the morning. While her ladies-in-waiting all knew she was like this, almost no one else did. If Tinasha hurried, there was still a chance she wouldn’t be late. “Sorry, I need to get back now,” she said with an apologetic nod. “Mm-hmm,” answered Oscar, flapping a hand at her. She flashed him a soft smile and summarily vanished from the room. Oscar shook his head at his fiancée, gone so abruptly. Had that been a good distraction for her? At the very least, she had seemed her usual self when she’d grinned. Eyeing the clock, Oscar realized that he was an hour late, because he’d been dealing with Tinasha. Although he should’ve been in a rush, too, he couldn’t help but focus on what Tinasha had said when she was still half awake. “What kind of food could she even make? Terrifying,” he muttered with a smirk as he headed out to begin his work for the day. The stone chamber was so enormous it could house a mansion. The walls and ceiling were bare excavated rock, while the interior was cold as ice. It wasn’t naturally frigid, however. Strange waves of bitter air kept rolling in from a gigantic hole in the center of the room. Valt stood on the edge of it, peering down. It was boundlessly deep, the bottom impossible to make out. But if he strained his eyes, he could see something slithering in the darkness. Whatever it was emanated pure evil. “Valt, isn’t it time yet? If we leave it there much longer, it’s going to eat all,” someone said, and Valt turned to see a dozen men standing along the wall, clearly unwilling to get as close to the aperture as he was. It had been one of them who complained. Valt gave a shrug. “True enough. I suppose we can begin.” The men stirred. Every time one of them had suggested something like that to him previously, he’d shot the suggestion down. Sensing their morale surging like a wave, Valt gave a strained smile. “I will handle it until it’s set outside. No one else can, after all. Aside from that, do as you like. I won’t attempt to control it.” “That’s fine. We’ll handle it,” one man stated confidently. Internally, Valt sneered. The men were far too dazzled by the sheer power to judge whether they were actually capable of wielding it. But very soon, they would all learn firsthand what it was like to hold too much strength. Valt could have warned them but saw no reason to. His desires lay elsewhere. It had taken meticulous planning and execution of work laid by generations before him to reach this turning point. After Tinasha’s meeting, which she barely arrived to on time, she had lunch with Legis. The conversation naturally turned to the events of the day before. “Using the bodies of mages to summon magic is a dreadful thing,” Legis spat in a rare display of undisguised irritation. Tinasha’s face darkened. “That type of forbidden curse was attempted often in the past, but I don’t think the effects are worth the high number of sacrifices. At best, the caster only becomes a slightly stronger mage.” In the end, seven people had perished for a mediocre power increase. Someone with true knowledge and strength would’ve been able to call a fantastic amount of magic from the flesh of just one powerful individual used as the catalyst. Tinasha was once the recipient of such colossal magic from a forbidden curse, though she herself had not asked for it. The memory of that event was bittersweet. Sighing, Legis said, “I suppose in the end, we can’t completely stop the use of forbidden curses.” “Unfortunately, that would be very difficult to achieve. People believe that great risks mean great rewards. In reality, there is no case that I know of in which a forbidden curse successfully led someone to their goal.” In all Tuldarr’s records, nearly every forbidden curse ended with the caster dead and the curse either disintegrating or causing wild, unplanned mayhem. There weren’t many who knew that, though. If that knowledge was made public in an attempt to deter future incidents, it would only end up revealing more information about forbidden curses. That was a danger that could not be overlooked. No matter how loudly they might preach about the futility of forbidden curses, those who sought power wouldn’t listen. As a result, a force capable of stamping out those threats was vital, and the queen had already taken steps toward creating one. Ever since Tinasha first began considering dissolving the contract with the mystical spirits, she had also started plans for how the mages of Tuldarr might fight back against a forbidden curse. In the days leading to her coronation, she’d selected qualified candidates and had begun running them through battle-oriented drills. When Legis inquired how that program was going, Tinasha smiled. “It’s going well. Everyone is very talented, and they’re quick learners.” “I see… Do you think that, in a real-world scenario, they could defend against a forbidden curse?” he asked. “I do. In magical warfare, firepower alone isn’t what decides things. It’s about how it’s utilized… In other words, it’s more important to devise a winning strategy. In that sense, it’s no different from regular combat, and carefully laying preparations can actually be more effective than anything else. That’s especially the case when spells are set in advance.” A team of multiple spell casters with finely honed magic would absolutely be enough to defy a forbidden curse if they used their power in the right places and at the right times. When Farsas had defended against Druza’s forbidden curse, Oscar had noted that a head-on battle was pointless. Tinasha felt the same way, which was why she was instructing mages on technique and knowledge. As an elite unit that could tacitly communicate and understand each other, they would be more flexible and dynamic than a single powerful mage fighting alone. “It’s usually a group of mages who are behind a large-scale forbidden curse, and they’re all reliant on the spell. I don’t think it should be so very difficult to rein them in,” the queen stated confidently, and Legis nodded. However, another possibility occurred to him, and so he asked, “What would you do against a witch?” Though he had voiced the question off the cuff, it was a weighty one. Tinasha’s face turned pensive, and then she smiled slightly. “To be honest, I don’t know. I think it would be a pretty tough battle, because a witch would have so much more experience. Perhaps we could set up a very carefully laid trap… It would be best to avoid a direct confrontation.” Legis was silent for a moment, for he had anticipated that reply. A witch would certainly be much more formidable than even a large-scale forbidden curse. The Witch Killer Queen knew better than anyone how terrifying it was to face off against someone with powerful magic, experience, and a will of their own. Only four such women had come to be called witches. Sunlight streamed into the room—a rare occurrence. When Valt returned, he stared at the shafts of light with some surprise. Miralys was sitting in her chair, hugging her knees to her chest. The bright afternoon sun made her snowy white skin shine. Her light green eyes caught his. “You’re back. Are you tired?” “Yes, it was pretty exhausting calling it up alone. But what’s going on? You have the curtains open.” “I’ll have to go into the outside world soon… so I’m acclimating myself,” Miralys answered. “Ah, I see,” said Valt, a smile tugging at his lips at what a good, faithful girl Miralys was. He could feel his exhaustion melting away. Still, he made sure to ask her what he needed to ask. “Is the spell ready?” “Yes, it’s done. It took a while, but everything is fine.” “Thanks.” Miralys was quite good at spell crafting. There was no need to worry over that part. However, what did warrant concern was how their opponents’ forces would be deployed. Valt couldn’t help voicing his uneasiness. “I’m the most anxious about where the spirits will be placed. Keeping track of twelve really is tough.” “I’ll be fine, since I have enough magic to confuse them… but you be careful,” Miralys replied. “I will. I’ll be sure to put them to work pulling that off, too,” Valt said with a little yawn as he glanced out the window. On the other side of the glass, he could sense a peculiar magic drifting in the air. The country would probably change overnight. That was only the beginning, though. A self-deprecating expression formed on his face. “I’m going to sleep. I have to replenish my magic.” “Okay. Good night,” Miralys said with a little wave of her fingers. Poison lurked somewhere in that innocent smile of hers. Everything hinged on tomorrow. The curtain would finally rise on their story. The noontime sun blazed, bathing the earth in light. The fortress of Ynureid stood at Farsas’s northernmost point and was built on terrain that was comparatively cooler because of its high elevation. The sun still bore down on it fiercely, though. The first one to notice was a mage on the rampart. About 60 percent of the main fort’s exterior had been rebuilt by a team of mages specializing in architecture, while artisans worked on the interior simultaneously. Mages were now setting up defensive spells along the outer walls. One of them looked up, sensing a flow of unusual magic. Something had gotten caught by the numerous surveillance wards placed at the national border. He narrowed his eyes. A dark shape was slithering on the horizon. It was impossible at this distance to distinguish exactly what it was, but it was clearly abnormal. The man raced along the ramparts to the general. The hasty report reached the king in Farsas Castle five minutes later. Upon hearing the news, Oscar lifted his eyebrows. “Cezar made their move already?” Cezar’s hostility toward Farsas was nothing new. It was most likely misguided resentment stemming from the fact that Farsas was a powerful country blessed with natural resources. But in hundreds of years, Cezar had never once attacked its enemy directly. This sudden action had to be the result of their evil god or some other entity spurring them to it, just as Druza had been pushed to strike with the forbidden curse. Nonetheless, Oscar had been expecting this since he’d learned what Tinasha’s investigation uncovered. Swiftly, he issued orders to his attendants and left the room to prepare for battle. One hour later, he and his army teleported to Ynureid. “What’s the situation?” the king demanded. The general bowed. “Most of the enemy army is infantry, so their pace is slow. It should take them another hour to arrive. Their numbers are close to forty thousand. However, er…” “Yes?” “The mages claim they sense some manner of abnormal magic.” Oscar’s attendants gasped. Undoubtedly, they were all thinking of Druza’s forbidden curse. Aware that this thought had just put them all on edge, Oscar grinned wickedly. “Now everyone thinks they can just whip out whatever weird thing, since they know they can’t beat us in a head-on fight…” After what Druza did, a treaty was freshly signed banning the use of forbidden curses in cross-national wars. What had Cezar brought out now? Surely not a real evil god? Oscar’s brain whirred. “This’ll be a gamble.” It was painful not knowing what their enemy had up their sleeve. But that just meant Farsas had to crush them before they could let loose whatever odd thing they had. Oscar gave orders to that effect, a grave expression on his face. The half-finished fortress of Ynureid loomed before them. General Tarvo, leading the vanguard of Cezar’s army, restrained a laugh as he eyed it. He thought of Druza, which had only recently relied on a forbidden curse and suffered defeat. “Of course Druza lost going about it that way. Even if they had destroyed the stronghold and army with their curse, what were they going to do once they’d used it all up?” Any way you looked at it, overpowering Farsas was impossible without enough strength to last through a long struggle. Cezar wouldn’t make such a foolish mistake. Over long years, it had raised troops for just this purpose. What’s more, the nation had that. Victory was in sight. However, there was one uncertain element, and that was the queen of Tuldarr, the king’s fiancée. Things could get dicey if she led her country to intervene in the conflict. The general wanted to weaken Farsas before that could happen. “Have they not noticed us yet?” The fortress still looked the same. From horseback, Tarvo surveyed his infantry. He opened his mouth to give the order to speed up their march. But before he could speak, a fog suddenly rolled out. It was thick enough to block out the soldiers’ field of vision, even on the sunny plains. “What is this?! What is happening?!” Tarvo shouted, jerking around to check behind him, but the soldiers showed no reaction and kept on advancing. He was glad to see that the march wasn’t impeded, but he was worried, nonetheless. Was it wise to continue in this fog when they had no idea which direction they were headed? It didn’t look like any ordinary mist, meaning it had to be magic. Tarvo wasn’t a mage, though, so that was as best as he could comprehend it. He turned back to ask his officers for guidance, but the fog was so thick that he couldn’t see them. After about five minutes of moving through the vapor, debating the entire time if they should stop, Tarvo and the rest of the army finally emerged from the fog. All of a sudden, he could see again, as if what had happened was just an illusion, and the fortress was much closer than it had been. “So we were on the right path…” He had been fretting that the magic was meant to throw off their course, but everything seemed fine. Feeling reassured, Tarvo took hold of his reins. And that was when something came whistling through the air. Tarvo stiffened, then tumbled from his mount. An arrow was lodged in his helmetless head, piercing one ear and going out the other. His horse slowed and shook its head, seeking its rider that had disappeared from the saddle. A soldier who was walking behind ran into the steed. Despite the obvious attack, the Cezar army couldn’t stop immediately upon losing a commanding officer. In the next moment, the Farsas army attacked from their right flank. “This magic is pretty powerful,” muttered Kav, who was casting spells from the fortress. In the distance, Farsas’s and Cezar’s armies were clashing on the plains. Sylvia, who was watching the battle from beside Kav, nodded. Producing fog on even ground was a potent type of spiritual magic that, ordinarily speaking, no regular mage could wield. However, Tinasha had reworked the spell so that a team of ten mages could handle it and had taught it to those she was close with in Farsas. Tinasha had used this very tactic herself during the incident with the princess of Yarda; it was highly effective in combat. While the fog robbed the enemy of sight, the Farsas troops had split up and teleported in groups to places along the Cezar army’s flank. Once the fog dissipated, they launched an attack from the enemy’s blind spot. Kav noticed that the Cezar army’s formation was collapsing under the force of Farsas’s charge and whispered, “I hope this ends quickly…” An ominous chill ran up his spine. The majority of Cezar’s forty thousand troops were foot soldiers. The Farsas cavalry rode into the middle of the infantry but were surprised to find no real resistance. The enemy moved sluggishly and were cut down as easily as grass. It quickly became apparrant what was wrong. Enemy soldiers who should’ve been fatally wounded were still fighting back, swinging their swords as if nothing had befallen them. Slowly but steadily, those blades pierced the horses’ bellies. With loud whinnies, the steeds collapsed, and their riders tumbled off their backs. They cried out upon finding themselves hemmed in by Cezar forces. “Th-these demons!” Their eyes were cloudy, and the flesh of their cheeks was rotting. The gray pallor of their faces was unmistakable—these were dead men walking. “Your Majesty!” shouted Doan. “I know,” Oscar replied sullenly from the front lines. This was the abnormal magic. While ordinary humans were mixed into Cezar’s army, the majority of the fighters were animated corpses. “Those who are taken to Cezar’s castle never come out again, huh?” Tinasha had said something like that to Oscar once. He hadn’t wanted to learn the fates of those unfortunate souls, and yet here they were. Oscar clicked his tongue in annoyance. The Farsas troops had stopped in their tracks, overwhelmed with fear. Their enemy was already dead and so couldn’t be killed. That said, the corpses couldn’t heal themselves. If their limbs were lopped off, the remaining corpse would only writhe disturbingly on the ground. While this could hardly be considered ideal, it was better than nothing. “I guess we’ll make magic our main offense… It’s not really my style, but go ahead,” Oscar ordered, and the Farsas army formation shifted. As the cavalry soldiers held their positions, the mages behind them began to set the cadavers on fire. Puppeteered by some sort of spell as they were, they ceased moving once they were burned with magic. Similarly, Akashia could also render them motionless. A full-size Nark spewed fire onto the dead army from the sky. Oscar groaned as he beheld the scene. “There’s no end to them.” Right now, things were fine. But Oscar wasn’t sure if this method would hold up against the entirety of Cezar’s soldiers. Unlike Tuldarr, Farsas did not have vast reserves of mages. Most of them were at the fortress or castle. Only around twenty were on the battlefield. A scowl on his face, Oscar exhaled hard. As he cut through the shambling cadavers, the king said to the mage mumbling incantations behind him, “Doan, hit me with a little magic.” “What?!” Doan yelped, going wide-eyed at his king’s extreme request. With a serious look on his face, Oscar urged, “Do it quick. It’ll alert Tinasha. It’s our best chance.” Tinasha had cast an anti-magic barrier on Oscar that alerted her when he was struck by a spell. It was what had brought her to those strange ruins. Grasping Oscar’s intention, Doan drew up a simple attack spell. Before it took shape, though, a voice called down from midair. “Could you not summon me that way?” The woman was very obviously annoyed. Just as Oscar and Doan looked up, a dreadful and thunderous roar rocked the entire area. Glaring light flooded the front lines and the Farsas soldiers instinctively shut their eyes against the sudden flash. When they cautiously opened their lids again, they were all astonished to find the corpses they had been battling collapsed on the ground like marionettes with their strings cut. “Wh-what on earth just happened…?” Soldiers gasped when they saw huge swaths of open space where thousands of corpses blanketed the earth. The remaining Cezar cadaver soldiers appeared to notice the abrupt vacancies and began to shuffle toward the Farsas troops. Frowning, Oscar said to the woman in the sky, “You sure do know how to make a spectacle.” “I wanted to buy us a little time to talk,” Tinasha explained as she descended. She was wearing mage’s robes, though not formal ones. The form-fitting white attire hugged the shape of her body and was emblazoned with magical sigils. The outfit had seemingly been designed for ease of movement, as deep slits ran up along both sides of the skirt, providing glimpses of Tinasha’s milky-white legs. She was equipped with multiple magic implements strapped to her slender arms and legs, and what had to be an ensorcelled dagger was belted at her waist. She was obviously ready for battle. A young man and woman stood behind her, awating orders; Oscar recognized them as two of the twelve mystical spirits. Oscar’s eyes grew wide as he took in his very first glimpse of Tinasha’s battle uniform. “That’s some getup.” Tinasha beamed, her eyes narrowing. When the expression faded, her eyes became as dark as the abyss and filled with unmistakable majesty. “The queen of Tuldarr, Tinasha As Meyer Ur Aeterna Tuldarr, has arrived. I have detected the use of a forbidden art, hence Tuldarr’s decision to intervene at this juncture. We will dispose of this entity that should not exist, and no harm will come to either country,” she proclaimed in a full, sonorous tone. Oscar grinned. He kept his response outwardly serious as he replied, “Understood. Thanks for acting so fast.” Tinasha replied with a broad smile of her own and launched into a detailed explanation. “I will leave four of my spirits here. Also, that group over there is in training at the moment, so use them any way you wish.” She indicated a spot close to the rear left flank of the Farsas army. About twenty mages stood next to horses some distance away. Upon catching Oscar’s gaze, they bowed. “Mages from Tuldarr, huh? That’ll be a big help,” Oscar remarked. “My intention was to create an anti-forbidden-curse unit, but I didn’t think it would see real combat this soon, so they’re all still learning. Rest assured, however, that they are excellent mages,” Tinasha clarified. Oscar cocked an eyebrow. “How am I supposed to interpret that? Don’t give such a misleading explanation. And when you say you’re leaving them here, do you mean you have something else to do?” “I’m going to go strike the heart of the corpse army.” “Is it an evil god?” “Yes,” Tinasha responded flatly, and though the words evil god still sounded too ridiculous to be believed, Oscar frowned. Tinasha was floating in the sky, so Oscar beckoned her to come closer. Once she did, he grabbed her arm and pulled her onto his lap, making her black eyes go wide with surprise. With a light flush on her cheeks, the queen admonished him, “Oscar, we’re in the middle of battle…” “Forget that. What’s this evil god? Do those really exist?” Oscar had never once thought such things were real. Tinasha made a face. “I don’t think it’s a mythological deity like Aetea, no. But it does exist in the sense that it’s a mass of accumulated magic and energy. I think it’s going to be pretty difficult to take it apart, which is why I’m the most qualified to go after it.” “If you think you’ll have a tough time, wait just a little and I can go with you to help,” Oscar suggested. “I’ll be fine,” Tinasha assured him. The smile on her face felt so ephemeral that a jolt of concern lanced through Oscar. He held her tighter in his arms. “You’ll win, right?” “Of course,” she said immediately. Oscar gazed searchingly into her dark eyes, seeing his own face reflected in the depths of night there. He could feel confidence thrumming through her lithe frame. As this wielder of both strong magic and fierce determination grinned up at him, Oscar couldn’t help matching her expression. Then he glanced over her head and noticed soldiers coming closer. “Guess we’re out of time.” There was no longer any time to chat. Sensing the enemy approaching, Tinasha attempted to float up into the air, but Oscar kept his sword arm tight around her side. With his empty hand, he tilted up her chin. “Come back to me, all right?” “Leave it to me. I’ll beat you to the fortress and be waiting for you,” she replied with a graceful smile. Every time he saw that look on her face, it drew him in and charmed him so irrevocably. Oscar drew close and pressed a kiss on Tinasha’s soft lips. It was just a light brush, but the warmth of it reached her heart. When he pulled back, a bright red had spread across her ivory complexion. Covering her face with one hand, she turned away. “What do you think you’re doing? Didn’t I tell you we’re in the middle of battle?” “Mm-hmm. Do your best out there,” he said, releasing her so she could float away. Cheeks still pink, Tinasha turned to the two spirits. “Senn, Lilia, I’ll be counting on you.” “Understood.” “Yes, my lady.” “You too, Kunai and Saiha,” Tinasha added, naming two more spirits who had not yet appeared. But then the queen giggled; evidently, they had given a reply only she could hear. After that, her eyes focused on Oscar again. With a look like cool, clear water, she called to him. “Good luck in battle.” “You too,” he answered. Tinasha turned in midair to head in the other direction. Then, while Oscar was still watching, she vanished. Oscar allowed himself one smile before his expression turned serious and he adjusted his grip on Akashia. The corpse troops were almost upon him now. The Tuldarr mages mounted their horses and joined the ranks. The two spirits drifted to their own spots. After confirming everyone’s position, Oscar gave a short, sharp exhale and drew himself up straight. “Let’s go.” His clear voice signaled the continuation of battle. A half hour’s ride toward Cezar from the battlefield, it lay enshrined in a flattened patch of grass and brush. Tinasha, who had tracked its magic to the source, frowned sourly down on it from the sky. “That’s… quite something. What a grotesque shape.” The spirits Karr and Mila stood on either side of her. The red-haired girl grinned at the queen of Tuldarr. “Lady Tinasha, do creatures like that disgust you?” “I mean, it doesn’t have any legs, and it’s enormous,” Tinasha replied. “Should I make it some legs?” “That’s not the issue.” Far below their lighthearted banter, a dozen mages were working to control the evil god, Simila. It was in the form of a gigantic black snake, but that was only clear to those hovering above. Up close, it was so large that it must have been impossible to determine its shape. It was long enough to wrap around ten houses and as thick around as two full-grown adults placed end to end. Such a colossal serpent did not exist in the natural world. With its eyes closed, it coiled around itself in a leisurely manner. The snake’s tail was attached to a dark hole that opened in the ground. Upon closer observation, the snake had emerged from this magically created aperture. Tinasha glared into the depths of the hole. “Do you think that connects to something?” Karr, the seemingly male spirit, answered, “Perhaps it’s a conceptual entity? If it’s stemming from some manner of root, then I’d wager that’s the connection.” “A root, hmm? I believe the evil god itself is made up of magic and human souls. Then it’s solidified with human flesh… and manifested according to a set definition. There must be a very capable mage behind this.” “One with some nasty tastes, though,” quipped a spirit, and Tinasha nodded her agreement. That serpent was the evil god that, once manifested, acted as the source of the magic controlling the corpse army. It was more akin to a crystal containing a forbidden curse than to a demon that came into being organically. Its huge body seethed with resentment toward humans, and its mere existence polluted the surrounding air.
Chapter 74
27 min read