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“Welcome back Kniq,” covered with burnt marks and injuries, the adventuring party returned. A long and tough battle that lasted a few days, one that Undrar led. One that concerned a lot of people, the hobgoblins had evolved. An ogre of Emerald tier-six appeared. Out of the five low to mid-tier party dispatched, only two returned. Kniq and a relatively new guild that went by the name of Swift, the emblem assign was of a figure running.

Rather than smiles and cheers, the welcoming party consisted of only Diane and Melisa. They watched carefully; battered and nearly defeated, the seven-remainder returned.

“We made it back,” Deadeyes mumbled, the body gravely injured, healing magic didn’t work.

“Yes, we’re home,” Achilles who had carried the man the entire way dropped to her knee.

“Keep it together,” behind, hands lit with different hues, Undrar used enhancement magic to keep the injured healthy.

“Quick, get a hold of the magical-guild,” in a panic, Diane threw out orders randomly, “-we need healers, like right now,” she urged, Melisa froze out of fear.

.....

“Let me do it,” light-brown hair, a small girl rushed to the scene – her hands held a phone, “-Hello, Isorin, I came to the guild but there’s a problem. Can you get a hold of any healers and send them through?” the request placed, she quickly rushed to aid Deadeye’s leg.

“Bring me some bandages and medical supplies,” the half of the leg had been slashed open. The artery was hit, tis was a miracle he didn’t bleed out. A quick inspection later, the wound revealed a blueish barrier, one that kept him from bleeding out. The one responsible was just as injured as the rest, her hands worked, her mind focused, she shouldered the weight of the people here’s life.

As well as healers, doctors of which many were alchemists were sent, it didn’t take long for each guild stood a few meters apart. “We’ll take it from here,” the doctors came in. “Lady Clarise, what should we do?” they asked, the eyes filled with doubt and hesitance. This was a first, many of the alchemists who stood were doctors but never practiced. A bad gamble, life could be lost in a second. Carrying them to Claireville academy wasn’t plausible, the only one who could help was the famed doctor Jona.

“The hospital is too far away,” Clarise pointed out, for the one in the capital rested on the southern edge, “-we’ll take them to the magical-guild,” the orders were given, members of Swift, as well as Kniq, were transferred using stretchers.

“What happened to the rest?” Melisa asked, her face pale from fear.

“They were killed, we were ambushed,” Undrar was the last to leave. Those were the last word she said before vanishing through the doors.

“How could that have happened,” she fell to her feet, “-three of our promising and upcoming guilds were annihilated,” tears shed.

“Keep it together,” Diane shook her shoulders violently, “-our job is to figure out what happened. But given the situation, there’s not much we can do. The survival of Swift and Kniq lays in the hand of the Alchemists,” she sighed, “-come to think of it, isn’t Staxius the leader of Kniq?”

“Yes, he is,” a ray of hope gleamed in Melisa’s eyes.

“M-master,” semi-transparent, a spirit spoke.

‘Who’s disturbing my work,’ barely conscious, Staxius chose to ignore the outside.

“Please, h-help us,” the voice begged to which he ignored.

“WAKE UP VAMPIRE,” teeth sunk deep inside his neck, the consciousness pulled out of Clarity by force.

“Avon,” eyes wide open, he stood, “-what happened to you?” the heart throbbed, nervousness and anxiety took command.

“Y-you n-need to save t-the rest, A-Achilles was c-cursed, D-Deadeyes nearly died and U-Undrar has b-been m-mortally w-wounded,” the last word muttered, the spirit disappeared.

‘This can’t be happening,’ he stood, the eyes turned blank, ‘-why now,’ he thought, ‘-why... is the curse active?’ the stance faltered to which the hand grabbed onto a chair for support. Adete stood by and watched, her eyes narrowed; curiousness whelmed her mind.

‘I don’t care,’ the left eye closed, ‘-there’s no way I can afford to lose Kniq,’ the smiles and confidence from days ago shone brightly, the memories flooded. In no way was he backing-down, the all-seeing eyes activated. “ADETE, CUT THE LIMITER,” he yelled.

“Finally,” the small lady smiled, without warning, she flew inside his eyes and vanished. A reddish aura enveloped his body, the teeth grew, the nails sharpened, the skin paler, both eyes crimson-red, a horn and wings. He unleashed the limiter that slowed the conversion to a vampire. The surge in power ripped part of the body off, to which the Death-element kicked in and healed. A battle against himself, the merging of both powers wasn’t ready yet, however, he didn’t care.

On the day Adete appeared, they made a promise. One that said if ever the time came for the pure-blood to be unleashed, Adete would not put a fight; whatever the reason, she would comply and obey his command.

“I see,” the voice monotonous and dignified, the hair untied itself, from a pony-tail, it went down to the neck. The color changed from dark-brown to silvery. ‘It hurts,’ each time one body-part failed, he sensed the pain ten-time as much. A walking bomb, too much strength; immortal yet mortal, the one who could kill Staxius was none other than himself.

Focus heightened, the pain raged, but he fought. The eye sensed and locked onto Kniq’s aura. Rather than seeing through the eyes of others, the sight extended to one above the vicinity; Dark-arts kicked in, three elements interfered with one another. Sense-personality triggered, each person he stared had their thoughts and information transferred. With a glance, the pure-blood vampire could read anyone’s mind instantly. This didn’t come without a price – each time it happened; part of the mana-flow broke. Like veins that carried blood throughout the body, there were known lines at specific points that carried a person’s lifeforce. The moment one of those broke, the damage reflected in the individual’s soul.

“We need more help,” Clarise spoke to the head-alchemist, “-call Claireville academy or any doctor of repute. We need someone to help out these guys, there’re curses at work. This is the first I’ve seen this kind of injury; time is wasting.” A sterilized room had been built for human experiments long ago, it now turned into a place were normal surgical practices could be done.

“Undrar... Deadeyes...Achilles...and the people who survived,” tears flowed, tears of blood, “-it’s the job of the leader to protect his subordinates.” Teleportation activated, no incantation, nothing.

Sat in her office with a patient’s file, Jona worked without paying heed. “Doctor,” a charismatic voice came from behind.

“Please wait,” she turned curious about who had come in.

“I need your help,” someone unrecognizable stood, one scary but weirdly charming.

“W-who a-are you?” she asked, her eyes shuddered. “No time to explain,” he grabbed her by the arm and teleported inside the magical guild.

“CLARISE,” in the hall, the voice echoed, the girl who ran stopped.

“I’m busy,” she turned.

“It’s me Staxius, there’s no time to explain. I’ve brought Doctor Jona,” she stood behind, “-where are the people who have been cursed, I’ll take care of it,” the alchemist insignia proved enough to convince her, quickly all went to work.

“What happened to you?” the little girl asked, Staxius stood outside with Jona inside working on the patients.

“Do I look hideous?” he asked, the head lowered, the body changed farther, droplets of blood fell onto the floor then changed to steam. The eyes closed, the sensitivity to aura’s increased, with a single flick of the wrist, he grabbed onto their magical circuits. Filled with a black substance rather than one gold and pure, he pulled all the curses inflicted into his own self.

“...” Clarise was left speechless for the man who had an attitude she hated was in pain. One that could not be described, one that only a few had experienced, the heart throbbed.

“It’s time to leave, the time has nearly run out, LEAVE OR YOU RISK INFECTING EVERYONE HERE,” Adete’s consciousness spoke. A release of mana later, he vanished – all the curses departed. Twelve Rare Healing potions were handed to the little girl, ones to be used after all the wounds had been properly treated – insurance.

*Huff, Puff,* stood in the middle of nowhere, a place familiar, a place where he grew. Krigi of old, he stood amidst the ruins and rubble. The dust kicked up by the breeze and somber sky made it hard to see. The atmosphere was one deserted and one devoid of hope, he stood, a trip down memory lane. The broken-down streets came back to life, an illusion of the paths. The building rebuilt, the people came back, merchants talked, the people laughed, Staxius stood – reality and fantasy intertwined.

“Time has run out,” all stopped, stuck somewhere inside Clarity, Staxius watched from behind a window. One that showed his slumped body standing mindlessly inside Krigi of Old.

‘What is this,’ he punched, ‘come on WAKE UP,’ no reply. Trapped, there was nothing to be done, the hopeless punches tired out to which he fell to his knee.

A dozen black-figures with only red-eyes in which Lord Death’s pentagram burnt – appeared. He witnessed it all, “stop...” they pounced as if hungry beast, each one cannibalized his body. From legs to arms, they ripped and devoured what remained. It didn’t stop, once the body vanished – they locked eyes onto his memories, most importantly, the people he loved. First, Eira, they devoured, then Xula, hopeless and begging for life, they devoured. From there on, the mists dispersed across the continent, anyone who he remotely had affection towards was tortured and killed without a second thought.

“S-stop,” he watched, Eira and Xula fell to their knee, they hugged each other out of fear, the figures walked. The process didn’t stop, it repeated over and over again, “STOP IT,” he lashed out, scratches and punches, he did all he could to try and break out. Xula and Eira sobbed, “Staxius... Father,” they begged to no avail. Heartless and unforgiving, the mists continued on the path of destruction. One after the other, they killed without mercy.

“S-stop it,” he mumbled, tears flowed, “-don’t kill them,” the initial attempts at getting free ended in naught. ‘It’s all my fault, I should have never tried to get close to anyone,’ the mind broke, ‘-alone is how I’ll save the people I care about, there’s nothing else that can be done. Xula... Eira... everyone, I’m sorry for being weak,’ something snapped, ‘the times we’ve spent together will never be a regret,’ from woeful to emotionless, this triggered the heir’s ire.

“Don’t forget who I am,” in that instant, all which came to a stop, moved, “I’m Staxius Haggard,” whispers came from behind the walls where all his fears were played endlessly. “-the next god of death, the second most powerful entity since creation itself,” filled with determination, he gritted. A mist in the form of a skull appeared behind, “DIEEEEEE,” he screamed so hard the vocal cords ripped – all the anguished released.

*May the ones before I turn to dust. May they all end in ruin, may they all die without mercy. Anyone who dares go against me shall pay for I am the sole ruler of death and destruction. I command thy seal to be broken, rain down death and destroy all: Quietus.*

Left in his wake, Silence...