First Time's the Necromantic Curse...

He went to the grave sight. He didn’t care who or what it was. He prepared the circles, runes occult and depraved. He began to chant, calling upon the name of Azrael.  “Azrael, Lord of the Morning and Bringer of the Dawn, bless me with your power. Give your servant the ability to raise the damned and bring the once forlorn to this world once more. Allow this servant to make the wrongs of Kraus right, allow this servant to do your will and start this world anew!”  Over and over he chanted this as he poured himself into the ritual. He was trying.

He did indeed have faith in Azrael. Genuine faith. He praised both him and Akujin. Akujin because he was of his spawn. Of his image and of his creation. But he worshipped Azrael because that was the faith of his father. It was the faith of Death itself. It was the only hand of God that he could see in the world. The only hand of a god that he could see in his everyday life. There were only two true gods. The god of creation, Akujin, and the God of decay and destruction, Azrael. It was as Asena and Saekanis, but if Saekanis was just as kind and truthful as his counterpart.

And so he continued chanting that. As his crimson eyes flared with the occult energy that rose within him. It boiled within him as he yelled, expelling the depraved magic into the prepared runic and charged circles. They were glowing with the blood and life of Yokai and Bandits. The runes made to capture the soul and help in its binding to the Skeleton and the remains of the corpse being reanimated. He put his everything and all behind it. He was charging the runes and the grave, the bones began to shift.

He breathed as he felt the power moving through him. The energy moving. He was so close. He only bind the soul in place. But as he came closer to it, he began to feel himself falter, then the energy broke, the bones fell once more, and he collapsed. As he got up, he was absolutely furious at himself.

He burned the grass around. He was furious! Seething! He saw this failure as a massive set back. He couldn’t allow this to take him out of the running. He had to study his mistakes and understand, but it did nothing to quell his wrath.
(Vindictus)