If the legendary Grand Duke who governed Silver Moon City knew what his grandson was doing at this very moment, he would almost certainly confine the boy at once — or worse, have him hanged outright! Or perhaps use a Disintegrate spell to reduce him to dust!
Unfortunately, the preparations for war were simply too burdensome, and the endless string of duties consumed so much of his mental energy and attention that he remained utterly oblivious to this catastrophic threat.
Until this day.
Warm, gentle sunlight bathed the northern reaches of the continent. A few wisps of pure white cloud drifted across the brilliant blue sky, like gossamer veils of mist, shifting and swirling in endless forms.
A discreet letter had already been delivered through covert channels. In Eric's eyes, this was nothing short of a surrender — the letter would surely be filled with obsequious flattery, capped off with a minor request, accompanied by promises of this or that tribute... The formula for noble compromise was always the same.
At that moment, inside the headquarters of the Black Moon Trading Company, Eric was reclining in a chaise lounge, his eyes half-lidded, brimming with a victor's smug satisfaction.
Glover stood beside him like a servant, his face a mask of humble deference.
"It's been checked — no problems!"
Eric was naturally not a careless man, and the black envelope had already undergone several rounds of inspection before it ever reached his hands.
The final figure standing before Eric, robed in black, was his most trusted subordinate.
The man had a pair of gaunt, skeletal hands — the pale knuckles clearly visible — and deeply sunken eyes. There was not a shred of muscle on his face; the entire person seemed to be composed of nothing but skin and bone. He wore an enormous black robe, and around his neck hung a necklace strung from bones and black pearls that emitted a dull, dark luster. An aura of death and malevolent spirits constantly emanated from him, carrying the stench of rotting flesh. Even Glover's eyes flickered with a trace of disgust.
"Since Master Aetas says so, I naturally believe it!"
His attire, his appearance, and his bearing all marked him unmistakably as a bona fide necromancer!
Such mages delighted in manipulating corpses and souls, and they were universally condemned by the Continent's Mage Association. In Silver Moon City especially, Elarasta had issued a string of prohibitions against them — the strictest edicts of her entire administration.
In this climate of universal persecution, every necromancer's path to mastery was exceedingly difficult, and high-ranked ones were rarer still. But every single one of them was a terrifyingly powerful existence.
The Aetas that Eric had taken in could not compare to the likes of a Bone Lich, but he was nonetheless a necromancer approaching legendary status, thoroughly versed in the arts of curses and necromancy. With him at his side, Eric had never once faced any threat from that particular direction.
Eric took the letter from Aetas's hand with a smile and began to open it. This was his most savorous moment — as the victor, listening to the groveling pleas of the defeated. Each time, it filled him with boundless delight.
"What is this..."
But then — Eric's expression changed drastically.
The letter pulled from the envelope was completely blank. Nothing had been written on it at all.
Eric turned it over and examined it several times before confirming the fact. A wave of humiliation surged through him, his face flushing red with fury.
"This isn't some prank — it's an outright provocation! A lowly, insignificant family actually dares to provoke me? Count Eric! Grandson of a legendary mage! The Star of Silver Moon City! I will make them pay for this in blood!"
Eric roared at the top of his lungs, slamming the letter down onto the desk with savage force.
"M-Master!"
At that moment, Glover suddenly noticed something wrong.
The instant Eric's fingers had touched the letter, a small emerald flame had begun to burn at that very point, hungrily devouring the surrounding area.
"Hmm? This is—"
Aetas reacted immediately. The numerous magical artifacts on his body flared with light as he unleashed his pre-prepared spells in rapid succession.
—Detect Curse!
—Holy Light Protection!
—Thorn Armor!
Layers of radiant light enveloped him and Eric in an instant. Then, a flash of teleportation light flickered, swallowing the figures of Eric and Aetas whole.
After the spatial shift, Eric and Aetas found themselves in the mansion at the heart of Silver Moon City.
"I set this location as the teleportation gate's spatial anchor point — even a legendary powerhouse cannot simply invade Silver Moon City..."
Aetas looked at Eric. "I failed to detect this new type of curse. It was my oversight..."
"Please don't say that, Master Aetas..." Eric was always generous toward those who truly possessed ability and strength. "Thank goodness you were here — who knows what sort of calamity I would have suffered today!"
Speaking of which, Eric's expression shifted once more. "That damned Nien Trading Company — they actually dare to break the unspoken rules and resort to such underhanded methods! I won't let them get away with this!"
"Personally, I find that new type of curse quite fascinating — it actually managed to evade my detection..."
Aetas stroked his amulet: "I wish I could go back and observe the subsequent reactions carefully."
"No problem. Isn't Glover right there anyway? He's a perfect test subject. Given the distance he was at, he's definitely been affected by the curse..."
Eric replied without hesitation, his eyes devoid of any trace of sympathy, completely consumed by endless frustration.
"That stupid shrub dog! It's made me have to find someone to take its place..."
Eric waved his hand viciously, and a glint of green light flashed before his eyes.
"Hmm! Not right!"
Aetas's startled cry came, and then Eric was horrified to discover a speck of green flame, still clinging to his finger like a malignant growth. Black ink-like lines appeared on the surface of his skin, wriggling slightly as if drawing his blood.
"How can there be a curse of this type? It completely defies all logic..."
Aetas felt his understanding was on the verge of being overturned.
But then, an even greater scream from Eric echoed.
After drawing enough blood, the green flame devoured the ink lines completely, detached from his finger, and floated in mid-air, burning.
The bewitching green flame emitted a piercing howl, forming a small portal in the empty space.
Before Aetas and Eric could even react, the portal had already burst open, emitting a single syllable: It was a sound no one could describe, one that didn't even exist in this world, utterly impossible to replicate.
A sharp, roaring note that seemed to contain all the resentment and hatred of the world, a whisper from hell itself, a force a thousand, ten thousand times more evil than that of devils and demons, crashing outward with the soundwave.
"I... what's happening to me..."
Eric felt his head spinning, his throat as if stuffed with fire, his voice becoming incredibly hoarse, more unpleasant than the most tattered bellows.
"You..." Suddenly, Eric pointed in horror at Aetas before him. The other's face was now covered in one large tumor after another, making him look swollen and grotesque. Foul, terrifying pus constantly oozed out, carrying a strong corrosive quality, continuously devouring his once healthy flesh.
"No... no! I..."
Eric looked at his own hands. Pus-filled blisters the size of gold coins had already appeared. Pus reeking of decay began to burst and erode, and horrifying, excruciating pain constantly stimulated his nerves.
He collapsed to the ground, staring at Aetas beside him who had already been reduced to white bones, unable to even let out a sound.
Once he had possessed supreme authority, reigning as the underground emperor of the entire Northern Territory. But now, he couldn't even cry out for help, let alone control his own life or death.
In the end, Eric could only watch in despair as his body was continuously corroded, his head swelling into a massive tumor that burst with a muffled pop, instantly ending his sinful life.
At the same time, throughout the entire Material Plane, every one of Eric's blood relatives felt terror grip their hearts as they discovered horrifying tumors sprouting all over their bodies, corroding them to the ground in an instant—dead.
Inside the governance hall of New Silvermoon City.
Queen Elastril of Silvermoon, wearing her crown, turned to the legendary Grand Duke beside her.
"Your Grace! Regarding the logistics of the Noztro Defense Line..."
In the hall at that moment, besides the Grand Duke, several other high-ranking figures including
The Grand Duke's expression was poised and dignified. He was just about to speak when his face suddenly changed.
A layer of horrifying color surfaced across his skin. Tumors rolled visibly beneath his body, as if a small rat were scurrying around inside.
"This is a curse!"
Elminster was the first to step forward, already casting a Remove Curse spell.
Everyone present was a top-tier powerhouse, and several legendary clerics were among them. Various countermeasures were deployed in an instant.
Not only that, but as a legendary mage himself, the Grand Duke possessed multiple life-saving methods—all of which seemed to have become completely ineffective. He could only collapse to the ground, screaming and wailing in agony.
"What a terrifying curse!"
Elminster's brow furrowed. A barrier of light already separated the legendary Grand Duke from the others.
Only then did he look at the Duke thrashing behind the barrier—or more precisely, at several obsidian amulets scattered on the ground—and said to Elastril: "Those amulets were Legendary Substitute Talismans, capable of absorbing any attack, poison, or curse in his place. But they've now completely lost their effect..."
A trace of fear flickered through Elminster's eyes. "Judging by this, even if the Duke had prepared a clone body in advance, I'm afraid it would also..."