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Chapter 87 50: The Ritual (1)



Q: What's the best bet against the other power?

A: All the Twelve powers that hadn't been corrupted.

- - -

The horror of the situation chilled Yeriel more than the snowstorm and icy wind. From being an honour student in the most prestigious academy of the realm, she was now on the way of becoming a sacrifice to some evil ritual.

Was it for this day she left her home? Was it to become a sacrifice for a dark sorcerer? She travelled from Endus to Starlight City. Even all the fights she fought with her family to get to the academy seemed meaningless against her approaching doom.

Yeriel considered crying, but what would that achieve? She tried to resist with all she had, however, that didn’t stop them. They carried her through the storming weather to the area where they were supposed to hold the ritual. In a few hours, she would be no more, even though she heard all that nauseating talk from the warlock about power.

There were nine of them, Althan and Yeriel only being the captive, while the Warlock Rojar Iker, his apprentice Kiea, and Rogue Knight Rial were in the forefront of the expedition. Four more underlings were in the back, and one of them was carrying her now. Yeriel had resisted before, but that only earned her the soul severing pain.

Her body was limp now, mind numb from the cold and what she went through. She didn’t know how long ago it was, but the last time she talked was with Althan, who supposedly gave her hope that he would make sure she’s alright. It would’ve been so great if she could trust her. Oh, almighty above, she cried inwardly. What did I do to suffer this?

Perhaps it was a test. Perhaps Ishar has his plans for her. She only has to endure, endure until help arrives.

. . .

On the front, Althan was asking Kiea non-stop about what they were intending to do in such stormy weather, which seemed to annoy the warlock apprentice quite a lot. The Warlock and the Knight were busy leading, finding the right path that left him free to ask whatever he wanted without caring much.

“Is this how you treat royalty?” Althan asked, irritated, not getting his answers.

“Technically, I’m not from the empire, so your position holds nothing to me,” Kiea said, eyes cold. Why had her master agreed to take this clown with them? And even if he did, why didn’t just as a captive? Oh god, she was told to accommodate him, as if she was not annoyed already.

“But you spoke Mahendi,” Althan argued, “and it's the empire ground.”

“So according to you, nobody from outside can speak Mahendi.” Kiea replied in a level tone. “Your highness, you have much to learn about the world. And this is not your empire’s ground. Victoria was a nation, until your greedy emperor usurped it, like many others, taking advantage of the situations.” As Kiea spoke, her voice grew furious.

“Simply one does not stand in the Empire’s way,” Althan said. “Victoria welcomed the change and welcomed the empire’s rule with both hands. They knew they would gain more from it, and they did.”

“If only rulers think like that,” she said, her voice growing a bit curious. “Tell me, Prince of Thaylor, that throne, the one your father holds. Did it always belong to him?”

“No,” Althan answered with much dignity. “My father, Highprince Alvin Andre Kimber, won through his sheer hard work in war, trade, and lifelong service to the empire to coronate as the ruler of Thaylor. He has every right to be the ruler and--”

“The only reason he got the throne is because he’s the lapdog of the emperor,” Kiea snorted, eyes filled with contempt. “The old king of Thaylor would’ve never stood by empire’s rule and got into a war that he could never win, while your father, he’s but an opportunist. He played the right piece at the right time, never understanding he’s also but a chess piece of the emperor. A piece that could be tossed off easily when the lapdog stops being docile.”

“How dare you?” Althan almost screamed. “My father, he--”

Kiea shook her head and with cast a Hush spell on Althan, to make him stop annoying her. There’s no way for him to break out of the spell with his channels being sealed.

Honestly, why did she turn out to argue with this . . . imbecile. He hadn’t had the slightest clue about the situation. The only reason he’s here is to play as a hostage.

Almighty heroes! I wish I had other options. Perhaps William could,’ she thought and shook her head. No, William was captured, and even if he's not, he's just too unpredictable, far more than his father. She didn’t know him all too well, nor in contact with him that much. The last time they talked, he hinted her something, but she gave no answer, knowing nothing of his original goal.

Althan struggled, gesturing at her like a dimwit to break off the spell.

“There’s no point arguing with someone who doesn’t understand how the world works,” she said and glanced towards Yeirel at the back of a warder. “I think your life will be easier if you remain in your fantasy. Gosh, I’ve no idea how you turned out as a dimwit from such a scheming father.

“Also, do you want to know about what we're intending to do with that girl of yours? It's very simple actually, it's just the same. What do powerful people do to weaker people to gain more strength? Do you know what it is?”

She waited for an answer, and considered breaking the spell, but remember how stupid this prince actually was. Even if she broke the spell, he couldn’t answer her, only spout nonsense.

“What master wants with her is extremely special,” she said, eyes drawn to the hateful girl again. “She would be used as a medium for a ritual to draw force, and then master will siphon the power from her. Quite a tall order for a girl like her, wouldn’t you say? Don’t worry, she won’t die. On the contrary of dying, this ritual holds an opportunity for her too, an opportunity she doesn’t appreciate.” Her voice grew hateful, envious.

Abruptly, she felt a presence next to her. “So I see you’re accommodating Prince Althan well,” the Warlock came in next to her, considering her.

He flicked his finger as the Hush spell broke, and Althan sighed, though didn’t open his mouth in the presence of the warlock. However, he muttered something along the line of damnable witch before withdrawing back to the wretched girl.

“How far away are we, Master?” she asked and regarded the sky. There were four moons in the sky currently with a lot of time in hand, however, she was not sure if the main content was ready yet. Her master had only answered that vaguely, but she always assumed he had it arranged. Honestly, she didn’t know how he managed all the contents of this ritual, but does it matter to her anymore?

“You have to do something about your temper,” her master said.

Kiea clenched her palms. She abided by everything and even showed the proper respect, yet she was hearing this.

“I’ve noticed the blood patches on the girl,” Rojar said, glancing back to where the supposed sacrifice was carried away.

“It's only a little compared to what you’re intending to make of her,” Kiea said in a level tone. All because of that wretched girl.

“I suppose you’re right.”

Originally, it was supposed to be her who should be used as the sacrifice for this ritual. Well, not sacrifice, as long as she abided by rules, but the appearance of this hateful girl with pure, un-coerced energy threw away everything. She knew it was irresistible for a dark sorcerer to give away an opportunity like this.

“Master, I think she will fight back,” Kiea said, her level tone turning to almost pliable. “She doesn’t have enough willpower to hold against it. The power will break her, and she could . . .”

“Outburst?” Rojar regarded his apprentice. “That could happen to you too, dear.”

Kiea paused for a moment and decided to be honest. “Master, I’ve waited for this for years,” she said, swallowing uncomfortable breaths. This was not anything easy for her. “Please, I can do better than her. I won’t resist. I’ll do everything you want of me, just give me a chance.”

Yes, she really might give in, overlooking all her previous goals, as long as she gets what’s promised.

Rojar regarded her honest words. “What I want of you is to stop with those thoughts,” he said sternly. “You have no idea how overpowering the Other power is. It's the most volatile. You say you won’t resist, but would you be the same when you held onto that sheer amount of power? I’ve considered everything, and I think she’s the best bet. Yes, she would resist, but I’ll get what I want. I always get what I want, eventually.”

Kiea found herself lost of words. Yes, the thoughts of betraying have been on her mind since the beginning, but she had been honest now. Her master has treated her better than most of the animalistic people she met over the years, but none of the two were saints. She could and would betray him, provided with an adequate opportunity, as he would do the same. Well, he already did. This was the unspoken truth of their relationships.

“Think of this as a relief that you’re not the one to be sacrificed,” Rojar Iker said, eyes distant. “You didn’t have a clue what the other power does to one’s soul, and you’re never meant for a willing sacrifice.”


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