Chapter 62.

On the sand dunes of the Great Desert, outside the Grand City of Torl two cloaked figures stood. Their cloaks fluttered to the harsh winds as grains of sand flew into the air, one of them was holding up an artifact. A compass. And their eyes were glued on it. It was a modified tool to track someone’s mana signature. 

The hand of the compass was pointing towards the city, and a moment later, the face of the compass was closed with a metallic clink. After so long, they finally found the one who was responsible for ruining their plans. The wind currents passed by them once more and Zodos was the first one to speak.

“It is unmistakable, that person is here.”

The other man, Ner, nodded, his voice husky. “So we finally get to avenge Ranir.”

“Remember, we aren’t here to for revenge, but to retrieve what was taken from us,” Zodos said, turning to the city. “We are here to retrieve that which is precious to us.” 

His eyes fixed on the vast city, and while it was a sight to behold, they had their eyes on something much grander. Something that most of the population couldn’t fathom, and while this mission was but a small step to it, he was going to stop at nothing to achieve it. He didn’t care that the Great Desert was at war, and he most definitely didn’t care about the ongoing plague. He only cared about one thing, and one thing only: completing his mission. 

“Even if we have to raise the city to the ground, even if we have to start a new war, or even if we have to unleash a plague upon the land…”

Zodos’ eyes narrowed. 

“We will retrieve that divine artifact.”

“No matter the cost,” Ner added. 

Zodos nodded, repeating in a whisper. 

“No matter the cost.” 

 

* * * 

 

Amber raised her brow at what the man had just said. “What do you even mean by that?”

However, he seemed to ignore her question and continued.

“You are strong, I can sense it,” the man said, smiling. “And by that I don’t mean, just from looking at your level, but your existence is strong; the feeling you give.”

Amber was simply confused, but she decided to listen to the man and hear where he was going with this. He peered at her with a serious gaze, and began to speak. 

“I’ve come here to ask for your help.”

Amber nodded at that and the man spoke simply extending his hand. 

“Help me put a stop to the source of the plague⁠— help me put a stop to the thing the nation of Ofril has unleashed into the world.” 

She paused and repeated in her mind, Unleashed into the world…?

And for a moment, Amber didn’t know what to say. 

 

* * * 

 

Ian was looking at his last hope, or what he believed to be his last hope. It was a warrior, one of much lower level than him, and in spite of that, he wanted her help. She was a Cursebearer, and someone whose existence he had been aware of. Her name had spread all throughout the kingdom of Cytel; Amber. And she was heralded as a hero. 

And now, he hoped that she too would be a hero in this situation. It wasn’t something he could do alone, even if he was a powerful necromancer, he just couldn’t. The powerful curse of the source of the plague would spell his end without a Cursebearer to take the brunt of it all. 

So, here he was, looking at his last hope. And she was utterly befuddled. 

“They made a biochemical weapon?” she asked in a whisper but with anger. 

Ian nodded. “They did, no matter how it affected others.” 

He closed his eyes and remembered a scene from long ago, how he had been approached by officials to help his cause and goals. And how they had brought over another necromancer to help him, and the end result was⁠— 

He could remember the screams.

⁠— it wasn’t something he intended. Far from it.

“I was once an official inside their ranks, but that is a thing of the past after what they have done. Now, I seek to put a stop to the thing I’ve created, to the thing that was unleashed into the world by that nation.”

“That… why haven’t they killed it if they created it?” she asked, dubiousness in her voice. “They don’t seem to have a handle on it considering they are also afflicted by the plague.”

Ian shook his head. “It’s not so simple, they lost control over it and it went on a rampage…”

He trailed off and balled his hands in a fist, gritting his teeth. If he could be given the chance, he would kill all of those people for what they’ve done. Finally, after a second of silence he collected himself and looked over to the woman: Amber.

“And this is why I require your help, because I cannot put a stop to all of this alone, and because you are a Cursebearer,” he explained. “I sensed it as soon as you passed nearby, the Curse of the Dead within my body shifted.”

Amber was just staring at him, and finally, after a second of silence, she asked what was in her mind. 

“But why you? Why do you want to kill it? I assume Ofril is trying to do something about it, and given its a rampaging monster the other nations must be aware of it too.”

Everything she had just said was true, and so Ian took a deep breath. 

“That is because I was the one who created the source of the plague.” 

 

* * * 

 

Amber couldn’t believe it, but soon she felt anger.

“You are the one that created a damn biochemical weapon?” she lightly raised her voice. 

“I didn’t intend to create it, in fact I wasn’t planning on creating it.” The man gritted his teeth. “Ofril offered to help me with my project, with my goals, and they fucking meddled with them. I may be a necromancer but I never intended for this.” 

Amber watched the anger within the man, she had seen him react in such a way before too. But Amber still had more questions than answers. 

“I’m here seeking your help because you’re a Cursebearer, you are the only one that can help me with this,” he sighed. “The monster has a deadly venom, but paired with a curse it will spell the end of any other warrior. I want to put a stop to the thing I’ve created.”

Still, even after hearing all of that, Amber didn’t know what to say⁠— how could he trust the literal creator of the plague? Was he actually the person to create it? She didn’t know absolutely anything.

“This is my creation,” he said simply sliding what seemed to be a photograph. 

Amber looked at the monochrome picture. It looked blurry, but she could see a mass of darkness with tendrils coming out, there was a miasma and dots of darkness surrounding it. 

“It was level 162 then, perhaps it has leveled up more.” He shook his head. “The nations keep on trying to kill it, but I am sure they’ll use its body for nefarious means if we don’t do it first.”

Then he continued lowering his head at last. 

“So, please, help me put a stop to this.”

Hearing him numerous things went through Amber’s mind. From the fact that the man was an ex-official of the crazy nation to the fact that he was asking for her help. All in all, he seemed genuine. Amber also thought about the victims of the plague she had seen, she thought about the state of the Great Desert as a whole, and she thought about the fact that she had to grow stronger. 

“If we kill the monster, will the plague be cured?” she asked. 

“I know it will stop spreading, as for those who are already afflicted…” He closed his eyes. “I do not know.” 

Amber frowned. 

“Didn’t you make it?”

“It doesn’t work that way, I wasn’t the only one to participate in the project…”

She stared at the man, all while pondering if to help. If it was going to stop the plague from spreading, that was good but still less than ideal. And while she would get levels, that wasn’t enough to convince her. 

“I want information about the Primordial Spirit of the desert,” she said. 

“Does this mean: yes?” he asked hopefully. 

“I’ll decide after your information,” Amber said. 

The necromancer paused at that, but began to explain. 

Amber heard things she was already aware of, but she heard a few more things. Namely that the spirit’s oasis was a real physical place rather than an illusion, she also learned that the Primordial Spirit apparently had been spotted inside the Grand Dungeon in the past. Which further reinforced the theory of going to the bottom, but the most useful piece of information was:

“His tower has never been seen before, and some scholars believe that he may not have a tower, but rather that the oasis is his tower.” 

Given it was a physical place, Amber felt a lot more hopeful about finding it⁠— though searching the entire desert still seemed like an insurmountable task, but with the cube it was possible. 

So, after he was done explaining, she nodded.

“I’ll help you.”

The man almost smiled at that, but she continued, glaring at him. 

“If you so much as try to betray me, I’ll kill you.” 

Still, contrary to her expectations, he smiled. “We have a deal then, Amber the Cursebearer, hero of Cytel and Demonkiller.”

Amber frowned given she hadn’t told him her name. “And your name is?”

“Ian, and I am as I already said, I am a necromancer,” he said. 

Hearing those words, Amber stood up. 

“Let’s go after the monster then.”

Ian grinned at that. “Indeed, we must make haste, so let us depart.” 

And with those words, the two of them set off. 

 

* * *

 

Before the hour was over, they were already on a worm-horse going in the direction the monster was⁠— which Ian could track given he had literally made the thing. They traveled in silence given Amber was wary of the man given everything she had just learned. 

“Why are you looking at me that way?” he asked, holding the reins of the worm. 

Amber shook her head. She wasn’t stupid enough to declare her distrust of the man outloud, but her body language was self-explanatory. And if he didn’t know why she felt this way, then maybe he was just an idiot. 

“Is this your first time meeting a necromancer?”

“It is,” Amber agreed. 

“I get it, my wife was quite mortified when I first met her too.” He laughed. “But eventually, everyone gets used to it. In the end, necromancy is just magic like any other.”

Amber raised her brow at that. “You have a wife?”

“Well, she died a long time ago,” he said, his voice slightly pained. “I’m just saying that, you shouldn’t fear me because of the nature of my magic. But if it’s any consolation, we may not cross paths ever again after this.”

“Right.”

Amber just nodded, and cut the talk short, instead deciding to mentally prepare for the extremely difficult fight that she was about to have. 

 

* * * 

 

“We are here,” Ian spoke as he looked at a rock formation in the distance. “The monster is in a cave over there.”

Amber nodded and got off the worm along with the necromancer. She was ready to fight the source of the plague⁠, and from the looks of it Ian was too as he raised his staff.

“I’ll draw it out,” he said, his staff shining. “Summon.”

At his words, a skeleton formed from the sand itself; an undead that had its signature miasma. Amber frowned at that but said nothing as the skeleton ran in the direction of the rock formation. 

“By the way, why have you been burning yourself and biting your tongue for the past hour?” the man asked. 

“It makes me stronger,” Amber answered simply. 

“Good, then prepare yourself.” The necromancer nodded. “The end is coming.”

And Amber readied herself with the Cursewelder already in hand. She noticed the necromancer glance at the sword in admiration, but said nothing. And a moment later⁠— 

The rock formation exploded with a harrowing screech that shook the land. Numerous sand dunes fell as the dust from the explosion dispersed, leaving nothing but a black cloud of miasma. And⁠— Amber dodged.

A black whip hit the position she was in, breaking through the sand. Amber frowned as she looked ahead, finally seeing the full form of the monster. It was a black mass of tentacles, one that dripped black goo and had flies swarming it. It was a foul existence whose Identify result wasn’t quite what she expected. 

 

[Mage. Lvl. ???] 

 

Amber frowned and called. “Is that thing human?!”

“It doesn’t matter,” the necromancer answered loudly. “Just help me put a stop to this!” 

Amber nodded at that. She raised her sword and blocked a whip of darkness that made her arms tremble in severe pain. 

It was strong too. 

“Death!” the necromancer screamed. 

And with his words, a miasma of darkness blasted the monster, making it unleash an echoing screech of pain. And Amber took her chance as she appeared behind the monster⁠— being affected by the curse-filled miasma at the same time⁠— and used the ability of the Firecursed sword. 

“Flamethrower.” 

A crimson bloom engulfed the monster and Amber⁠ was⁠— whipped. She was sent flying as the monster cried in pain. Amber’s bones were broken at that moment, and she rolled on the sand coughing from her dented armor. It happened before she could react, Sharp Instincts had barely warned her too. 

“That hurts,” she groaned.

Unfortunately, the monster was fast. She used the 3rd Rank of Quick Dash to escape an incoming whipping tendril. The spot where she had just stood exploded with dust and she frowned. 

The monster was strong, incredibly so. Amber was sure that it would have no trouble tearing her apart should she fight it alone. It was hard to believe that the difference between her current advancement and the next one was that big, but as it turns out: it was. 

At the same time, she couldn’t believe she had agreed to fight a level 162 monster created by the same guy that she was helping⁠— but here she was. 

Amber felt her bones snap into place; even though she breathed the miasma of the monster, her body treated it as nothing more than a curse, which made Amber glad. In fact, it even helped her heal, though not by much. Ian’s words were truthful it seemed. So, she focused on fighting instead without worrying about being contaminated by the plague, now fully knowing it wasn’t a massive danger to her.

She laced her sword with her own blood by cutting her palm and then turned to the monster that was hit by a pair of gigantic skeletal hands. Then she burned the remaining blood on her hand, increasing her strength. At the same time, the monster was swarmed by an army of skeletons, and Amber dashed forward. 

I don’t know if this is the right thing to do, but it just feels right. She had a plan, or rather she felt that their main priority was weakening the monster as much as possible first. 

With elegant and powerful swings she tore through the monster with the constant use of Cursed Cleaves. Curse Manipulation was also hard at work, applying things selectively as she wanted, and General Weapon Mastery was used to the fullest⁠— all to tear apart into the monster. 

Amber destroyed her surroundings as she dug deeper and deeper and once she felt she reached the core, she⁠ stabbed⁠—

“Battery!”

An explosion of flames and black blood burst, washing all over Amber as the monster unleashed a painful scream, but of course⁠— just like always she didn’t stop there, instead she continued to use Curse Battery. 

“Battery, battery, battery!”

She used the skill until nothing remained, tearing into the monster and exacerbating the curses all over its body, tearing it apart. 

And then, once nothing remained, Amber used her finisher⁠—

Abyssal Blast. 

A purple explosion engulfed the monster and she was sent flying from the blast. The sheer magnitude of the explosion made the sand burst as if something had erupted from it. It made the flames consume the surroundings turning parts of the sand into glass⁠— all while burning the monster like never before. A wail of agony echoed through the desert, one that carried nothing but suffering. The necromancer winced at her attack with some horror from how powerful it had been. 

Amber landed on all fours with her sword, sliding across the sand as black tentacles wipped into the surroundings with seemingly no target. The thrashing of pain from the monster continued as the necromancer lifted his staff and pointed at it, a great amount of energy gathering at its tip.

Then he spoke, “Destruction.”

And yet another explosion of darkness engulfed the monster as the sounds of agony turned hoarse. Ian had a deadly serious stoic expression while doing so. 

“You’ve been on this rampage for long enough,” he said gravely. “It is time for you to rest.”

Amber didn’t know why he spoke to the monster exactly, even if he was its creator, but she ignored it. Instead, she turned towards the abomination who⁠— disappeared. Amber blinked as it appeared right next to her and⁠— screeched. 

Its mana burst forth as a pillar of pitch-black darkness erupted, Amber barely back-pedalled. The ground around the monster began to rot⁠— decomposing into nothing but black sand that seemed to crumble into even finer grains. The small amount of shrubs instantly died and flies seemed to generate out of thin air. 

Black liquid began to emerge from beneath the monster, one that reeked of danger to her. 

The monster had used a skill. 

She blocked with her sword and was sent flying⁠— her wrist nearly snapped from the hit. Its strength had substantially increased, also its speed. However, Amber still managed to see the attack and what she saw was bad. There had been spikes at the end of the black tendril, and they were dripping with venom. 

Amber dashed back as a multitude of tentacles hit where she had just been standing. The sand exploded as it melted into nothingness, turning into more black liquid⁠—

I can’t get close at all. 

She couldn’t be near the monster with everything that has happened, not only had it grown stronger, it had also grown faster and a lot more dangerous and so⁠— it chased. 

It rolled across the sand, the tentacles whipping in all directions as Amber was forced to constantly block, and she barely succeeded in doing so. Every hit made her feel like her arms were going to break, every little push made her sweat⁠. And it wasn’t something she could keep up for long, Quick Dash didn’t help either. 

Amber blocked another hit and then she saw another strike⁠, one that she wouldn’t be able to dodge⁠—

“Guardian,” the necromancer called. 

With the command of the necromancer, a gigantic skeleton with a shield appeared in front of Amber. It bashed forward and the monster was pushed away, but it was barely enough for her to dodge that incoming strike. She breathed out. 

That was close⁠— 

The monster screeched and with a whipping motion, thousands of spikes were shot towards Amber. 

Her eyes widened and she forced to use the 3rd Rank of Quick Dash, landing a dozens of meters away from the spot where the spikes landed. And the monster turned⁠— doing the same thing as she kept being forced to dodge. Amber tried to fight sending Cursed Cleaves its way, but it was to no avail. The ground next to the monster was still being corroded and eaten away, its skill ⁠— whatever it was ⁠— was still active. 

And yet, it wasn’t doing anything. 

Amber was sure it was planning on doing something, but she just couldn’t tell what. She quickly found herself dodging for her life, as the necromancer used all of his attacks on the monster. And the monster, didn’t move, regardless of how many injuries it sustained, something that just reaffirmed her previous thoughts. 

The question was⁠— when would it do something? 

Her mana wasn’t regenerating particularly fast due to the conditions of the desert which worried her slightly. But Amber was sure that she could outlast the monster. The necromancer at least, seemed to be having no problems with his mana, luckly. 

She dodged another set of spikes and then⁠— tentacles sprouted all around her. The monster let out a roar as a dark miasma overwhelmed the surroundings, and the tentacles went for the kill⁠—

Amber used the 3rd Rank of Quick Dash and barely dodged the skill. A black pillar exploded where she had just standing, as if the place had been destroyed out of existence. 

And⁠ when she landed⁠— her leg was grabbed, dozens of spikes dug into her flesh as she grunted in pain. Venom was injected into her leg and just when she was about to do something⁠— she was whipped. 

Her leg shattered as she was thrown into the air.

“Amber!” the necromancer called in a panic. 

Amber gritted her teeth and wielded a the Cursewelder to protect herself, but dozens⁠— no hundreds of tentacles shot at her in an instant and⁠—

She screamed from pain⁠— multiple bones had been broken in a single moment and deadly venom rushed into her body as she convulsed.  

Her eyes trembled as she saw a multiple spike of darkness coming out of her stomach⁠, dripping with the black venom she had been avoiding all this time.

Amber vomited a mouthful of blood as she realized the state of her now failing body. 

It was a fatal injury. 

And then, she was thrown across the desert.