Rise of the Supreme Necromancer-Chapter 61: A Cruelty to Corrupt

"Alright... One last thing," Aleric said. "One last thing, and you can. Cut off your wrist now."

The prisoner nodded.

’If I cut off my hand, my fingers will stop hurting,’ he thought numbly. In his current state of mind, this idea sounded entirely sane. 𝕗𝗿𝕖𝐞𝐰𝗲𝕓𝐧𝕠𝕧𝗲𝐥.𝚌𝐨𝚖

Thunk!

The blessed blade was sharpened with magic. Even in a weak hand, it cut through muscle and bone on the first try.

With a pained whine, the prisoner fell to the ground. He had no tears left, but he was still sobbing.

"Kill me... Kill me..."

Aleric smiled, seeing how this blow weakened the blessed blade even more.

Now the Light magic inside it was dimmed by a layer of Dark emanations and diminished by a tenth.

"Me? No. Take the sword and kill yourself. Then, I will burn your body."

The prisoner’s eyes widened, but he didn’t hesitate.

At this point, he wanted nothing as much as this.

"And... let my brother go..." he said, taking the sword and pressing the blade to his throat.

With a sharp movement, he made a deep cut and fell to the floor again. Blood poured out, staining the sword and the nameless prisoner’s clothing, and with it, the emanations of death. The Light magic in the sword dimmed more than ever before. Now, after all Aleric’s efforts, two-fifths of its power were gone.

"Ingenious, master!" the Spine Staff said when the man stopped breathing. "Repeat this long enough, and the sword will give up!"

"No... This isn’t so simple," Aleric said, approaching the sword and crouching near it.

In places not smeared with blood, he saw dark spots spreading across the metal like mold. They were the same color as the singed trails left by Aleric’s magic earlier.

"The clash of magic weakens the metal. It’s the same as when I was breaking the temple’s door," Aleric said. "If I keep going like this, the sword might even break."

"But this means... it’s really impossible to make this artifact useful!"

Aleric shook his head.

"I’m not done yet. Guards, clean up the floor and prepare everything for a Raise Undead Servant ritual!"

"You are going to raise this man, Master Fenn?" a zombie guard asked. "What about his friend?"

"His friend? Ah, my promise... Forget about it."

Soon, the blood was cleaned from the floor, and a chalk heptagram was drawn around the corpse. Aleric put a drop of his blood on each corner of the heptagram and carefully took the Spine Staff in his bandaged hands.

"Master, aren’t you going to remove the blessed sword before raising the undead? It will make things significantly harder!"

Aleric shook his head, smiling.

"No, let him hold it. After all, this was the main reason I started all this! Herra patsluukuu tuo takaisin..."

From the wall, the ghost moaned again as its leash loosened slightly. But Aleric was careful not to let it go free.

As he read the spell, the heptagram burned with Dark energy, summoning and capturing the soul of the prisoner.

Like countless times before, the spell’s soulscape appeared around Aleric.

The young prisoner was standing on the gray sand of the soulscape’s wasteland, now with both hands whole. One of them held a sword made from pure white light. Only upon closer inspection could one see the web of gray cracks inside it—the weakness created by Aleric’s efforts.

The prisoner’s eyes were wide with shock and betrayal. The next second, the shock became anger.

"You lied! I died, you monster, and you brought me back again!"

The prisoner didn’t understand what was going on, only that he had a holy sword in his hands and the necromancer was right in front of him with no guards in sight.

"DIEEEEE!" he screamed, charging at Aleric.

Aleric grinned.

The sword was a powerful artifact, but it was just a tool and had no will of its own to fight, both in the soulscape and outside of it. Its power was defined by the person holding it, and by how it was used.

And that person was no one special, a man whose spirit was already broken before and would be easily broken again.

Aleric reached out with his hand, and dozens of shadow tendrils shot from the ground, grabbing the prisoner’s feet and arms. This was the power of the ritual and the dungeon’s Dark miasma.

"No! No, I will kill you!" the prisoner cursed, trying to cut the tendrils—but soon, they grabbed his wrists, immobilizing him completely.

Unlike Samuel Esvan in a similar situation, this prisoner didn’t have the willpower to overcome Aleric’s magic by will alone. He also didn’t know how he could control the Light magic of the sword better.

Even with a powerful tool like the sword, the prisoner was helpless before Aleric’s superior will and skills!

Aleric walked toward the prisoner, raising an arm. A second later, a pair of heavy metal scissors appeared in them.

The prisoners with helpless hatred and some confusion as Aleric captured the Light blade with scissors and began pressing on the handles.

Several sparks of Light flew from the sword, but they were too small to hurt Aleric.

While his will in the form of scissors was cutting through the sword deeper and deeper...

SNAP!

Until it broke the blade in two.

In the soulscape, the magic of the blade was left open and defenseless before Aleric, letting him attack the spell structure itself instead of the energy that fueled it. It was like a crab without its shell.

With its spell structure broken, the Light energy of the sword’s enchantment just dispersed in the air. The prisoner was left to watch his empty hands.

Then, Aleric slit his throat and opened his eyes to the material world.

The prisoner was lying on the ground, and the blessed sword was still whole.

But now, the Light inside of it was gone entirely!

Smiling, Aleric let a zombie take his staff and picked up the sword instead.