New path..

Sincerely, Aldrah kept calm most of the time, but well.. This girl had managed to end it.

The necromancer stopped floating and headed toward the girl and the undead who was standing in front of her. He grabbed the undead by the head and drained the mana from the body, making it fall on the ground, without life.

An icy aura began to expand from the Necromancer, causing the whole room to freeze. Iral could feel her skin begin to harden, feel pain through it. It was an abnormal cold.. It was the cold of death..

"Hahaha.." He laughed.

She was right to some point, Aldrah saw undeads as slaves and nothing more. Being over his command, they belonged to him. But the others saw undeads as normal people, who gained a 'second' chance to live. Where, because of that, Aldrah had to 'wear a mask' to hide how he really saw things.

"You're right to some extent." He spoke as he crouched down beside her, grabbing her by the arms, ""But then you call me a pevert.. This is not good.. I don't like it. I'm not a pevert." He shook his head from side to side, showing Discontent.

Aldrah fixed his gaze on Iral's eyes. A cold glance, as if there were almost no mankind more to that man. In fact, that was what he sought, to get rid of feelings, of humanity. And more and more he was close to achieving that goal.

"Iral, do you fear for your life? Would you cry out for the help of your Gehenna companions? Call for the 'spirits' you soothe?" Aldrah was now searching for fear in the heart of the woman, he wanted to break at once with her hopes and strength to continue resisting, "Tototl? A weak man, that I will drain the life of his body. Spirits? Weak beings that I will put under my control. No one will come.. Nothing can save you." Aldrah smirked.

Then he paused, beginning to drain the energy from Iral's body. She could begin to feel her strength fading. While those of the necromancer only increased.

"Life is nothing to me anymore, as you can see.. It's just something else I play with." Aldrah laughed sadistically, "Start feeling afraid girl.. This is just the beginning." The necromancer stopped draining the life of the woman's body. He did not want her dead yet, just make her understand the situation.

He stood up, snapping his finger. Two undeads entered the site and collected the remains of the undead that Aldrah had drained from life.

"I'll be back soon, I'll prepare things for an experiment." He smirked, starting to leave the cell.
(Aldrah Leverd)

Their eyes widened. The sudden mad attack crippling out from her heart ceaes, their lungs were out of air, Iral had fell completelly on her guffaws, driven completelly into madness for a second. All done by rage itself.

To let her eyes experience just a second of having them on her sight was disguting enough to make her want to vomit. To hold how gross it was to even breath the same air as the Necromancer in the room.

Her dead eyes were now filled with the flame of hate. His questions only made her head roll, it was a an unbearing nauseated feeling that struk her mind. Yet, the cold coming from him did strike her.

Even now unable to, her skin slowly shifting into the solid rigid aspect of a magis ice. Their eyes were once more brought into the despairing darkness. Her lips that began to move to form words now stopped and trembled. The pain was too much, yet no reaction came from her as it was beginning to happen.

"I d-" They would start to tremble, yet uselessly. No movement was performed as she was slowly turning on into a cube of ice, getting to feel the perfection of the kiss of Lady Death.

Her life was fading, her spirit being rippen apart while unable to even call for the mercy of the gods above. Totally by the darkness' mercy, now indeed the abyss looked back.

"S-t...Sto..." Their final efforts before her eyes rolled, following her eyelids that even slowly tried to close as her almost dead corpse fell to the ground. Not could be done as the Collar and her wounds tied her to eternal weakness.
(Iral Woodnshire)

After the woman fell unconscious, Aldrah went to the lab, preparing everything for the experiment he would conduct. After finishing, he returned to the woman's cell and ordered his undeads to take her and bring her with him.

He led her into the lab, undeads placed her on the table, handcuffing her neck, arms and legs to the table. So she would not run away and could not move too much.

Aldrah patted the side of her face to see if she would wake up, "Wake up! I need to see your reactions, to see if everything worked as expected." Aldrah smirked.
(Aldrah Leverd)

She opened her eyes, waking up once again to an even worse nightmare the Spirit Slaying Sword could provide her. Killing her spirit was the only way to leave such sufferings.

As their slow almost freezed eyes open, she was now totally tied to a table. A deep sigh was given and a hot breath escaping her lips. Now she was at a very despicable state.

"U-urgh..." By this far she was already totally injured, the collar wasn't helping her indeed. Iral itself without the weapon she carried on her back, and her magical power was nothing than a simple Non magi close to death by this far.
(Iral Woodnshire)

Okay, Iral was in his position and Aldrah had prepared everything that would be necessary for the procedure. It was only he and the prisoner, so he could give continuity to everything without anyone to stop.

The experiment that Aldrah would perform would be a test to see if there is different resistance from beings to mana. If his theory succeeds, he could start a project, to increase the resistance of his undeads to magic. It would be incredible! But first, test the theory of different resistances.

"The process I'm going to take can make a lot of progress in my projects. It's not pleasant, for you of course, but for me it's great!" He spoke, opening his satchel and picking up scissors from within.

Without delay, he began to cut the shirt or whatever the woman was wearing. He needed to expose her chest and belly for the procedure.

After a while he had finished. It leaves the woman's body exposed, from the breast to the belly. Now he could go on to the next step.

Opening his satchel again, he put away the scissors and removed a scalpel from within, which slowly, he moved toward Iral, positioning the scapel in her belly.

"Let's get start the process, to test my theory!" Aldrah smirked.
(Aldrah Leverd)

Scissors, assistents... The creepy cold room was eyes and as she looked to it, the only thing she recieved was darkness and a sudden fear striking her spine, a cold crawling her bones and spreading through her body.

Their ear twitch, their words cutting through her ears as a sword cuts perfectly through the flesh and bones, leaving it's vile trail of destruction to never be forgotten. And thus... Once again a fading light emmerges.

A flame as her streams were callen forth, the Collar on her neck tightening on it's grasp, spikes penetrating through her flesh and even enough to close her throat. No scream other than their desperate struggle of pulling the necklace down.

Tattoed like bluish lines would, from the center of her being, from her heart be drawn out, there was her mana stream, now visible... Though it was... Restrained. It's light was even weaker, almost unable for the eye to see. If it wasn't just for it's normal weak aspect.Iral's magic was poor. Still sustained training enough to be considered that of a Strong Energy magi, though her skills with the Spirit Slaying Sword weren't even close to be on that destitute level she finds herself in this moment.

Once her clothes were strapped, only leaving her bra (no u cant complain) in the way, thus her cold eyes bright, of... Hatred. Even more wish to kill this man. If before she haven't felt it, now she sure does... The Sins from her feared were starting to be shown off.

"Guurh!"

She tries to scream, she tries to struggle, yet her bindings only tighten. The spikes only dig further on her skin... If Death was to ever see her face to face, close to a kiss... It would be now. Yet, hopefully it was just a threat.
(Iral Woodnshire)

"You're not going to say anything, just grunts. Well, I hope you at least scream, so I can know what you're feeling." He spoke, beginning to press the scalpel against the woman's skin.

Well she would not do anything, so he'd start. Calmly and steadily, Aldrah began to cut Iral's skin and flesh, starting from her belly, he focused on not reaching any organ, only giving access to them. He made the cut from the belly to her chest, where after he finished it, he opened the cut with his hands, exposing her organs.

"What does it feel like to have your body open while you still live.. And not be able to die? Having your death denied?" He looked at Iral for a few seconds as he addressed the question.

After speaking, he set the scalpel beside Iral on the table. Slowly he moved his right hand toward the woman's stomach, touching with his fingers delicately the organ. He did not want to damage it after all.

Then, without delay, the necromancer began to send his mana to the magical circuits of Iral, specifically one of the key points of the circuits, the stomach. The amount that was sent was at least thirty percent, something relatively high, but it was necessary for the test.

Something that could be noticed, was that two undeads were in the corner of the room, watching the process. They were holding a block of ice, containing the woman's sword. Maybe that would make her motivate herself to resist? Or something like that. Just another one of Aldrah's theory.
(Aldrah Leverd)

The process of having her body opened made her wriggle even more in place, their energy being once more strived from her, just so she couldn't keep resisting. The tattos losing strength as her own Mana was being overwhelmed.

Their exposed organs begin to burn. Her flesh was exposed and due to the conditions of the ambient she stood in, bleeding out was her future. But it refused...

Even tho now she just wanted death already, her soul would not leave. She was deprived from the mercy of Death by the hands of the wicked Azraelite once more. The future hasn't changed, it is nothing but a wicked mirror of the past.

Groans, no... She didn't seem to be human on the screams and, as even more she moved, even more the pain increased, it burned as her whole life was consuming itself, as if her own essence refused to live.

Her eyes didn't work yet, but from deep within she heared the wicked call of the cursed sword that strived from her happiness over sleep. Even by closing her eyes and letting her body refuse to stay awake, the blade made sure she didn't sleep...

...For that was her wrost Nightmare coming true...

Her organs overflown with mana, not just hers, but the Necromancers also. And thus, the sword, sensing it's wicked owner's power fading would do nothing but react to their mana being lost. Covered in the last drops of mana she have provided to it when she last fought the Necromancer. The Archon Blade thrists for more.

Draining all what was being lost and returning to her... Even if it looked to be a good thing having every inch of her still limited power being given back, in fact... This just created another flow and a cycle she was now trapped in.


...The training she so much saught for was now turned in her wrost Nightmare by the hands of fate itself, just so she could become whats the Spirits in the blade feared she could...

Suddenly she ceased screaming. What? The pain stopped... No... It was just worthless.
(Iral Woodnshire)

Aldrah has long sought ways to increase his knowledge, his power, to develop his art of necromancy. In this he worked with other necromancers, experimented on humans, killed people and other beings, hunted relics of a god.. All in order to conquer what he wanted.

He developed less love for the life and more love for death, wanting to get rid of what kept him human, the feelings.. What kept his humanity.

Now being with the life in his hands, Iral's life, he saw that there was only one way to go, this being forward.

But he wanted to keep her alive, for it was not yet time for her to die, he would use her to fight against her old companions, to make her work for him. He would make her give up her home and beliefs, giving everything to him. She should give her life to Aldrah.

The necromancer stopped sending the mana and then slowly began to close the woman's body. From inside his satchel, he took a roll of thread and a needle, which he used to closethe cut he had made, on Iral's body.

After closing the cut, he took a pot from Lax Essence, which he carried with him. He opened the pot and picked up its contents, where then applied on the cut of Iral, that now was closed. That would ease the pain for now.

He leaned forward, looking into Iral's eyes, he smiled and then said, "Iral.. I give you the chance to get rid of the torment now.. Renounce your home and the spirits that you believed.. Praise Azrael, for he is your savior.. And I am your master." He spoke, the moment was now, she was in a state of despair and Aldrah extended the 'hand' to her, to escape the torment.

"Swear your loyalty to me and Azrael, and you will never again suffer. Freedom." One last speech, where now the necromancer let go of the woman, letting her out of the chains.
(Aldrah Leverd)

Even tho her Nightmare came true, in the end the light was still lit. Their reasons to seek for power, to greed for it were still in there. At no moment, even driven crazy by the pain of the kiss of Lady Death herself she could allow for Hatred to leave.

No... In fact, the only thing that came through her mind was Death. Hers, Aldrah's, everyone... Not even Gehenna was safe, in fact... This cruel world could rob her a tear, if it was time to cry.

It was time to suffer, even more... The sorrowful edge of the blade sharpening in response to the now immense abyss left in her being. In the core of her soul and essence, her emotion was now brought to nothing, fading slowly and the only remaining things were now superficial.

...Permanent, for a long time... Short? How long she feels such doesn't matter, only by the extent that it allows her to still keep her eyes opened. To still make use of her now frail muscles to get rid of the bindings on her pulse.

Once sat, her hair color was now slightly changed, turned dark grey for the process of having her life almost striven from her. The sword on the ice block trembles, feeling it's hatred and Sorrow.

"I..." Her voice was failed, hoarse. Her tone was low and as she breathed, there was only cold. Iral looked like a dead body, even tho her blood was still hot... Actually boiling from their struggle.

"I renounce..." Her mind wasn't it anymore, at it's full extent Iral needed to think... Nedded to figure out what was happening, why she has to suffer, why her allies have to suffer...? Former allies?!

This nightmare wouldn't end... She needed a way. And the only light she could find in as now brought to madness is the man sitting besides her... Even tho hatred still burns through her eye, it is true. It is impossible not to notice.

"I'm pathless..." She murmurs to herself, lightly turning her head... It looked creepy, Iral looked like an Undead... What a wonderful creation, a 'living undead', looking with Hatred towards it's now new 'master.'

"I need a path..."
(Iral Woodnshire)

A broad smile swept over Aldrah's face. His experiment of circuits had been complete, there were differences of resistances, where with that Aldrah could initiate new projects.

As a bonus to all this, he broke the woman's mind, made her renounce her past, now being free and at the mercy of the will of the one in front of her, Aldrah.

"Child, I will give you your way.. I will give you a new purpose of life." He said, 'shaping' her as he wanted, "You will follow me, do as you are commanded. And I will be your master, your guide, on your new journey." He concludes, reaching out his hand to her.

Everything would be like a new beginning for her, a better start, that would lead her into the future.

"Hold my hand and come, feel the freedom." Aldrah smiled.
(Aldrah Leverd)

Ohh... Indeed it has just began. Their eyes hover over him. He was to be a master, yet only hatred and sorrow escapes her heart, feeling out from the cage of her secret mind... Though, no expression.

She blankly stared,, leaving herself believe in his words, as a lost child, Iral was to find a way... Even tho little she knows her path was already forged long ago... And not by her herself. They get up, slowly walking towards the source of her hatred... Yet...

His hand was accepted, though her grip was tight. Probably because of the shock she just lived, it wasn't a surprise tho... Still confusion was taking over her mind... If there was still one.

"It seems it is the only... Path...?" It didn't even sound like her anymore, withdrawing back her hand, they look at it... Her palm, the memories were there. It wasn't as if her past was renounced... Just hope. Or atleast her ways. Or atleast a foolish belief.

What is sure, is that they have accepted his offer. A wing was needed until she could recover from what just happened. Iral have changed... Though in fact, she was still Iral.


(Iral Woodnshire)