So You Choose Death

Dark Chapter

Within the dense forest behind the Blackwater Manor, Zariel's somber expression was marred by a frown, looking at the tree trunk the size of three large men cut clean in half. Smooth as if done in a single stroke. 

He raised his hand, and a runic sigil meant for recording emerged. "Day 76, Astral Qi has begun growing at a rate of two pounds a day with the recovery of my soul due to the aid of my Arcane Core. Total pounds generated as of Day 76 is 138 lbs," he said, dismissing the rune. 

Zariel closed his eyes, focusing his mind until a slight convergence of arcana flickered. 

[Arcane Essence: 89/900]

He found a slight smile, admiring his work of quantifying the Arcane Essence of Aether through the Weave.

"Still, I need to find a way to quantify Astral Qi," he declared, scratching the back of his head, a little uncertain how. Within the mystical Realm of Aether, Zariel had no issue perceiving how the laws interacted with one another within the land. However, with him not being in The Astral Sea, understanding the basic functions of laws regarding Astral Qi was rather difficult. 

"I guess I'll just have to do it old school for now," he said, as his feet began to rise within the air; propelled by the strange nature of Astral Qi, Zariel soared back to his manor in time for lunch. 

"your back!" Aurelia exclaimed, glaring at the dinner table. "training without me again, huh?" 

Zariel ignored the blame in her voice and said, "I was testing out my abilities. Doing it here would have been an inconvenience." 

Genny emerged, carting a tray of wyvern tails cut into small rings. She plated them for her two masters, and she was about to leave when Aurelia spoke up. 

"Genny, don't be shy, join us."

"I could never!" said Genny, terrified as her eyes darted to Zariel. "The Young Master might—"

"Dumb-Dumb doesn't mind, right," Aurelia asked, grinning. 

"I could care less," he said, slicing his ring of wyvern meat into six symmetrical bite-size slices before he began eating. 

"See?" said Aurelia. "come eat with us. It's been a little over two months. Lets—"

"I'm sorry, m'lady, but there are boundaries not even we servants can cross," she said, bowing as she left for her servant's quarters. 

"You overstepped," Zariel casually mentioned, lifting his gaze to Aurelia's stunned expression. "Do you think being a maid is an easy task? She cooks, washes our clothes… well, your clothes, tends to the horses, and an assortment of other things. You asking her to eat with us is quite cruel. Not to sound like a dick, but the maid might work for us for only a limited time. Not to mention, she's on thin ice." 

"But why?" 

"Because she's scared of me, so she pushes herself. If she keeps that pace, she'll burn out, and I'll have to fire her."

Aurelia looked confused. "Why is she scared of you?" 

Zariel grinned toothily. "the question should be, why aren't you? We ought to train our survival instincts."

Placing Genny out of her mind, Aurelia grinned, " I know you won't harm me," she said, flashing her pearly white teeth that began to savage her wyvern tail. 

"I—" Zariel began pausing as his eyes swayed towards the south, towards the forest. He frowned, standing up, not forgetting to take his plate. "I'll be back. Stay here." 

"Zariel?" Aurelia said. "What—"

"Stay here," he said, his tone darker than usual. 

***

The Silver Brothers were all frowning as they approached from the rear of the manor through the Black Forest. 

"Is this it? Said Jon with a dark scowl. They were about a mile off, and even now, they didn't understand the mission. Not truly, anyway. 

'Kill the Architect Malos Blackwater. Age seven.'

Jon's brother Tarren gave him a look. "Yeah. Are you sure you have the stomach for this? Killing kids ain't ever easy." he said.

Goar, the eldest, laughed, slapping Jon on the shoulder. "All you've got to do is bash the kid's head open. They'll shit themselves, but it's a quick death."

Jon looked at his two older brothers and couldn't help but draw attention to their forced smiles. 'One million Rels.' he thought, and despite the high bounty, it's been two months, and no one has claimed it. 

Surely, if the target was a mere child, there shouldn't be an issue, right? 

The more Jon considered the mission, the more bizarre it all seemed. It made his gut churn and his heart tight. 

"Goar, don't you think this is too easy? Where are the guards? Or the sorcerers or pyromancers. Two million Rels for a kid? And what does Architect even mean? This mission just reeks of a trap." said Jon, quickly holding his brother's gaze. 

"Part of a sellsword job, " said Goar flatly, slapping his little brother's shoulder. 

Jon, however, couldn't help the sense of unease turning his stomach to mud. He felt sick as if the entire world was against him. Jon tried to ignore it, yet the closer he drew, the more sweat began to stain his tunic. 

"Tarren, " said Goar grimly. "ain't it a little too quiet?" " —Tarren did not answer— "Cast [Sense Earth] if you can. There is something out there." 

As if time had frozen, not even a whisper of the winds against the tree, the echoes of cicadas, or the buzzing of flies resounded through the Black Forest.

"Terren?" Goar said wearily, looking around when he turned to Terren or what was left of him. 

To their rear, Terren had been butchered into hundreds of small bite-size cubes stacked in such a way they were able to stand like a person. 

"TERREN!!!!" Goar howled, watching in utter horror as his shout made his second brother collapse into a gorey mesh of meat. He puked, so shaken that he didn't even notice the iridescent light that came from his rear cutting through his skull and brain. He dropped as his brain matter slid from out of his skull like a chunky pudding. 

Jon didn't even have time to scream when a strange invisible force seized him by the throat, tearing through flesh until it sealed his windpipe. 

Zariel calmly stepped out of the shadows without expression. He looked at the sadistic trap he set up with Terren to lore his brother Goar into a state of hysteria so that he might have the perfect opportunity to end his life before a full battle happened and smirked. 

'The battlefield is no place for emotions,' he thought, shifting his attention towards Jon. The one Zariel saw as the least experience. "Quite the mess." He said, drawing near the boy who looked no more than fifteen or sixteen. "What is your name?" 

Jon felt the force upon his throat loose, but not enough for him to think clearly. He could not even find the mental liquidity to cast the basics of spells. Tears might have fallen where he was still in a state of shock, trapped like a rat with such fear racing down his spine that hot piss ran down his legs. 

"Jon," He choked out. 

Zariel nodded. "How much is the bounty on my head?" 

"Please— AAAAAAAAAAAH~" Feeling all five fingers snap, bending into sadistic angles. He howled as the tips of his fingernails began to tear themselves from off his body. Tourcherious cries hounded in the forest until Zariel was satisfied. 

"How much? Don't make me have you gorge your eyes out. 

'One million Rels!" Jon howled as the searing ache of pain pulsated like fire. "But that's all I know! I don't know who—" 

"Shhhhh," Zariel hushed him, shaking his head. "Please. Don't speak out of turn," he told him, circling Jon, examining him with a curious eye. "Not a bad talent. You're attuned to the Will of the World. Do you know what that means?" 

Jon didn't, though he wasn't worried about such things right now as tears poured down his cheeks. He wanted to go home. He wanted to sleep this nightmare away. In a second, both his brothers were brutally murdered before him, carved into pieces like nothing. 

"It means with the right training, you might have been a god. A minor god. But a god nonetheless. Such a shame… maybe." Zariel smiled then. "Well, Jon, what say I let you live? You are quite a fine talent. It's surely a waste to kill you. So I'll let you live; all I ask is for one thing. One tiny little thing." 

"Anything!" Jon howled, so desperate to escape Zariel's smile only seemed to deepen. 

"Are you sure?" Zariel mused, reaching into his gown to a set of folded parchments. He dripped it beneath Jon's broken fingers, festering bloody bones protruding from flesh. And beneath his wordless incantation, the blood began to whirl into words. Words written in infernal, the language of the Hells. 

"For the crime of attacking Zariel Snow, aka Malos Blackwater, Jon has stated he will give anything for me not to kill him." Zariel looked up at Jon. "Is that correct?" 

Jon couldn't grasp what significance this all meant but nodded nonetheless, enthralled by the ache of his broken body. 

"Yes… I accept just—" 

Zariel ignored whatever else he had to say and smiled, watching some seamless authority bore from out of subspace, forming into an ethereal crest of sorts. He smiled when the seal vanished, and without warning, his arm plunged deep into Jon's chest, tearing out not blood or anything physical but a small silvery flame blistering with life. 

Endless cold bore into Jon's bones until he felt something precious stolen from out of him. He collapsed as he felt that invisible force vanish. 

"A soul cannot be stolen but rather given, or so it goes for those that are not devils or demons." the Silver Devil mused, staring curiously at the soul in his palm. He shifted his eyes to Jon and whispered, not with his mouth but his soul, something towards the soul flame. "Kneel," 

Jon knelt. 

"Eat Dirt," 

Opening his mouth wide, Jon, against his will, bit into the crust of the earth, filling his mouth with dirt. 

"No…No…No!…" As the realization of what he had given up shattered whatever spirit he had, Zariel's devilish laughter sprang into the air like wildfire. 

"Bite off a finger for me." He commanded. 

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH~" 

Zariel threw his head back in laughter, watching Jon howl like a maiden being savaged. He laughed until the grass began to wither, and the trees began to wilt as his spirit began to run wild. So deprave it was to life. It ravaged everything in fifty meters. He stopped almost suddenly, clearing his throat as he regained composure in a single instance. 

He stared at his new toy with a half smile. So many things left unsaid. "Worry not. I won't kill you. Our deal is still in effect. Rather, I've got a mission for you, my dear slave. From this day forth, you will find anyone willing to part with their soul for money, knowledge, or power. You do good, and I might grant you freedom." He lied, his eyes of silvery flames locking down on his new toy. 

"Your… your… you're a monster… "said Jon, gnawing on the stub of his pinky. "A devil!"