He closed his eyes and strengthened his stance as he began to chant under his breath. “Primeval of Death, forgotten keeper of all, allow me the strength to bend this heretic to Your will, and teach him the true meaning of power!” The lamplight around us flickered, and I felt a gentle tug at the base of my spine, as if a small child had tapped me in an effort to gain my attention. I stopped my approach and watched with incredulous amusement as the old man trembled with exertion. A deep, hideous laugh escaped my mouth and filled the hall with thunder. INSIGNIFICANT. A NEOPHYTE AT MY ALTAR.
Gullen’s eyes snapped open, and a flash of panic lit across his face. “Primeval of Death, forgotten keeper of all, allow me—'' His repeated chant was interrupted by my hand closing around his throat as I lifted him off the ground, having crossed the space between us with a single, instantaneous dash.
“Your God is weak, Gullen. Your prayers have gone unanswered, but they do not fall on deaf ears; I will give you a taste of the power you crave.” I sent a single spark of black fire down my arm and into his chest. A roaring fire erupted from his mouth as the speck of void energy instantly overwhelmed him, and his body began to turn to ash. THIS IS TRUE MASTERY, WORM.
The swirling ash and smoke cleared to reveal Virram’s horrified face at the opposite end of the table. “Kill him!” he screamed at his surrounding guards, scrambling backwards in his chair. “Kill him, now!”
The score of guardsmen around him burst into a flurry of panicked action as they swarmed ahead in an unorganized mess. I sneered at them through the curtain of flame that had enveloped my body and raised my sword in their direction. Twisting bolts of dark energy raced out from my feet along the ground, each suffusing one of the soldiers as they charged. In an instant, their shared warcry became a shared shriek of pain as their muscles constricted and locked them in place, creating a beautiful array of tortured, twitching statues.
“Kill him!” Virram commanded again. “Don’t just stand there you cowards, kill—” His command was cut short as he stifled a horrified scream. In unison, each of the guards’ heads spun backwards to face their King as I controlled their muscles like a dark puppeteer, and the chamber momentarily echoed with a sickening series of snaps. I released my control over their bodies a moment later, and the assembly fell to the ground in a tangled heap. Virram scanned the scene with uncomprehending terror, then looked up at me. “W-wait, I—”
I leapt over the length of the banquet table and kicked him square in the chest, shattering the back of his regal wooden seat as I sent him flying through the air. He crashed against the imposing golden throne and fell into the seat with a pitiful whine. I blinked forward through space, appearing on the dais with a reverberating boom before he could react to my assault. My sword disappeared in a flash, and I grabbed him around his slender neck with both hands, pinning him to the cushioned back of the throne.
As I watched him struggle feebly against my iron grip, my stomach filled with an overpowering feeling of disgust. The young, handsome Virram Yorrell that had caused me so much pain was reduced to a snivelling, squirming mess of a man. His face, once so arrogant and self-assured, was streaked with tears and snot, and his skin had begun to darken from its usually healthy glow to a veiny, bloated purple. The eyes that had held so much contempt for me were now wild and full of fear as the life drained from his body. WORTHLESS SCUM.
I relaxed my grip just enough to allow him a single, rasping breath. “P-please!” he choked. “I’ll give you whatever you want, just don’t kill me! I don’t want to die!” Another pathetic wail escaped his lips as he kicked his legs aimlessly.
Carefully, I set him back against his golden throne, releasing my grip around his neck to cradle his face with both of my hands. “Death is a kindness you don’t deserve.”
A manic laugh momentarily overtook him. “Yes, you’re right! A-absolutely! I am the lowest of the low, but as long as you let me live, I’ll give you anything you want! Anything! I’ll be your faithful servant. You’ll never want for anything!” I saw the gears spinning behind his eyes as he bargained for his life.
His hope turned to despair as I laughed in his face. I leaned in close to his ear, singeing the messy brown hair that brushed along his cheek. “You misunderstand me, Virram Yorrell.” A wave of healing magic spread across him as I channeled the mana from my left hand, and I saw his body slump as it autonomously relaxed. “Death is a kindness you don’t deserve, but tonight, you shall earn the privilege.” As the healing continued, I sent a rush of void energy down my right arm and suffused it through his skin. An immediate web of black scars wrapped around his face and darkened his eyes, and gouts of smoke poured from the lines. “TONIGHT, YOU SHALL SUFFER.”
The hall echoed with Virram’s agonized shrieks as the death energy continued to wrap its way around his thin frame, covering every inch of his skin with jagged, smoking marks. My healing magic was the only thing that held his body together as it burst into a beautiful fountain of black flames. Convulsions shook his flickering form as the pain overwhelmed him, but I held him in my steady hands as the healing magic and void energy wove through him in a perfectly measured harmony. “BEG ME FOR MERCY.”
“MAKE IT STOP!” he screamed. “I BEG YOU, MERCY!”
“BEG ME FOR FORGIVENESS.” I increased the energy through both hands, and the flames grew brighter, bathing me in unholy light.
“LET ME
