The battlefield lay quiet, save for the crackling of dying flames and the occasional groan of a wounded monster. On the walls of Avaloria, the defenders stood in stunned silence, their eyes fixed on the figure descending from the sky.
Relief had washed over them as they watched the monstrous horde decimated by an unknown savior, but that relief quickly turned to apprehension as they recognized the figure's approach.
As Canna floated toward them, blood-stained and emanating an aura of power, the king and his people watched with a mixture of awe and fear. The king, known for his wisdom and strength, stood silently, scrutinizing the figure. His thoughts mirrored the unspoken question in the minds of his subjects: Who was this being that had saved them, and what did he want?
Stopping ten feet away from the king, Mortem, Canna's subordinate, floated beside him. His presence, chilling and menacing, added to the tension. Mortem's voice, cold and authoritative, cut through the silence.
"My master has saved you from your peril, weak humans. The only compensation he asks for are the mana cores of the great calamities, mid-calamities, and low calamities. Collect them and keep them safe until we return to claim our compensation."
The words hung in the air, not as a request but as an ultimatum. The king's eyes narrowed at the tone, a necromancer daring to issue orders to a king. His pride flared, but before he could voice his objections, the sky above them opened again, revealing a red portal. Canna began to ascend, his form bathed in the portal's eerie light.
He looked like a divine avenger, his blood-soaked attire adding to his fearsome visage.
As he ascended, Mortem issued a final warning. "Heed my words, humans. It would be wise not to incur my master's wrath. Prepare the mana cores or face annihilation."
With that, Mortem followed Canna into the portal, leaving the defenders of Avaloria to grapple with their conflicting emotions—gratitude for their salvation, fear of their mysterious saviors, and the foreboding sense of a debt yet to be paid.
Tonitrum's voice resonated with a deep, cautionary tone. "Bloodfang's true potential can only be unlocked by a master who can wield both its power and its curse. You've shown promise, Canna, but the path ahead is fraught with temptation. Use it wisely; it can destroy you just as easily as it can your enemies."
Canna nodded, feeling the weight of the scythe in his hand grow heavier with the knowledge of its origins and dangers. He realized that while the scythe was a potent weapon, it could also become a double-edged sword. The sensation of being fully replenished in mana, stamina, and health, even after such an exhausting battle, was a stark reminder of the scythe's seductive power.
The danger lay not just in the scythe's capabilities, but in the potential for him to become lost in its power.
Reflecting on the recent battle, Canna noted with some satisfaction that he had gained significant experience and also leveled up. The fight had given him a clearer understanding of his abilities, and he looked forward to acquiring the mana cores once the kingdom had finished collecting them.
However, he resolved to use other weapons for more routine battles; the scythe was too dangerous to wield casually, especially given its ability to draw him into its bloodlust.
The prospect of using the mana cores and the boost in experience points was promising, but the most exciting news came from Mortem. "Master, my collection has grown significantly. Thank you for this opportunity," Mortem reported, his voice tinged with a rare note of satisfaction. Mortem's undead army now included at least 300 great-calamities and thousands of lower-ranked creatures.
For a necromancer, especially one as powerful as Mortem, this meant an incredible surge in strength and potential. The inclusion of such high-ranking beings in his undead ranks was a formidable asset, greatly enhancing their overall power.
Just as Canna was contemplating the implications of this newfound power, Tonitrum interrupted, his voice cutting through the conversation between master and subordinate. "It's time for your third gift. Are you ready?"