James woke to the sharp ache in every part of his body, his ribs screaming with every shallow breath. The cold stone floor of the cell offered no comfort, the damp seeping into his skin. He blinked against the dim torchlight leaking through the iron bars of his cell, his mind replaying the events of the previous day. The magistrate's cold smile and the cruel laughter of the guards echoed in his ears.
But he was still here. He hadn't given them anything.
His fingers twitched, and he flexed them experimentally. The cuffs chafing his wrists had been removed, allowing him a small measure of freedom. He focused on the faint throbbing of his mana reserves, drained but slowly regenerating. The system notification from the night before lingered in his thoughts.
[You have studied and successfully learned the 1st circle electric strike.]
James gritted his teeth and sat up, pain flaring through his side where the enchanted rod had struck him. He pressed a hand to his ribs, muttering a silent curse. The guards had been thorough, but they underestimated his resolve.
He activated [Requiem of Souls], channeling what little mana he had left into healing the worst of his injuries. His body thrummed with necromantic energy, the familiar coldness easing the pain as bruises faded and cracked ribs knitted together. A system prompt flashed before him.
[Mana: 0/200] [You have lost some rationality.]
James closed his eyes and leaned back against the wall, letting the lingering chill of the spell wash over him. He'd deal with the side effects later. For now, he needed to think.
The magistrate and his guards were clearly in Garrick's pocket. That much was obvious. Whatever scheme they were running, it involved more than just illegal magical ingredients. James's delivery had been a small piece of a much larger puzzle. And now he was a loose end—one they intended to cut off.
But James wasn't about to go quietly.
Hours passed in suffocating silence. James remained seated, conserving his strength and waiting for the next move. He replayed every interaction with Garrick, every detail of the delivery, searching for a way to turn the tables. The Heart of Eldarath sat securely in his spatial inventory, untouched by his captors. It was his greatest advantage, but also a target should they discover it.
The sound of approaching footsteps broke his concentration. James tensed, his pulse quickening as two guards appeared at the cell door. One held a tray of food, the other rested a hand on the hilt of his sword. The first guard slid the tray through the small opening at the bottom of the bars.
"Breakfast," the guard said with a sneer. "You'll need your strength for later."
James glanced at the tray. A chunk of stale bread and a bowl of watery soup. Hardly appetizing, but he knew better than to refuse. He reached for the bread, his movements deliberate to mask the tremor in his hands.
"Enjoy it while you can," the second guard added. "The magistrate's got plans for you."
James met the man's gaze, his expression unreadable. "Tell him I'm flattered."
The guard scowled and stepped forward, but his companion held him back. With one last glare, they turned and left, their laughter echoing down the corridor.
James forced himself to eat, every bite a reminder of his situation. He couldn't afford to waste energy, not when the odds were so heavily stacked against him. As he ate, his mind worked furiously, formulating a plan.
The next "interrogation" came soon after. This time, the guards dragged him to a different room, smaller and darker than the last. Chains hung from the walls, and the air reeked of sweat and blood. The magistrate stood waiting, his sharp features illuminated by the flickering light of a single torch.
"James," he said smoothly. "I trust you've had time to reconsider your position."
James's lips curled into a faint smirk. "You'll have to remind me. What position was that?"
The magistrate's smile tightened. He nodded to the guards, who forced James into the chains and secured him in place. The cold iron bit into his wrists, and he suppressed a wince.
"You're amusing, I'll give you that," the magistrate said, stepping closer. "But your defiance is growing tiresome. You have valuable information, and I intend to get it."
James met his gaze, his smirk fading. "You can try."
The magistrate's expression darkened, and he gestured to one of the guards. The man picked up a hooked implement from the table, its edge glinting ominously. James's stomach tightened, but he forced himself to remain calm. He couldn't show weakness now.
The first strike ripped through his shirt, the hook carving a shallow gash across his chest. James hissed through clenched teeth, his body jerking against the chains. The pain was sharp and immediate, but he refused to give them the satisfaction of a scream.
"This can end whenever you want," the magistrate said, his tone almost gentle. "Just tell me what I want to know."
James lifted his head, his eyes blazing with defiance. "Go to hell."
The magistrate's patience snapped. He nodded to the guards, and the torture began in earnest. They worked methodically, alternating between tools and techniques designed to break both body and spirit. James's world narrowed to the searing pain and the sound of his own ragged breaths.
But he held on.
Hours later, they threw him back into his cell. His body was a patchwork of cuts and bruises, his shirt hanging in tatters. He lay on the cold floor, his breaths shallow and uneven. But despite the agony, he felt a small spark of triumph. They hadn't broken him.
His mana reserves had regenerated slightly during the ordeal, and he activated [Requiem of Souls] once more. The cold energy flowed through him, knitting together the worst of his wounds and easing the pain. The system chimed softly in his mind.
[Mana: 0/200] [You have lost some rationality.]
[WARNING!]
[YOU HAVE LOST MOST OF YOUR RATIONALITY, ACTIVATING THIS ABILITY AGAIN WILL PUT YOU INTO BERSERKER MODE]
James's thoughts were hazy, his body and mind teetering on the edge of exhaustion. But deep within, his resolve burned brighter than ever. The magistrate and his corrupt guards might think they had the upper hand, but James knew better.
He would survive this. He would escape. And when he did, Garrick and his allies would pay for everything they had done.
He activated [Requiem of Souls] again.
His rage overflowed, to an irrational degree, and [Mana] surged around him, and then flowed into him through every orifice.
[A certain Goddess takes pity on you and upgrades one of your abilities]
[Grasp of the Fallen: Raise a single defeated enemy as a temporary ally for a short duration, bending them to your will, Cost will vary depending on the strength of the target and whether their soul is willing, (Level 4 --> 10) (Unique) (Active) (Necromantic Affinity)]
[Grasp of the Fallen Upgrades]
[Army of the Fallen: You raise a single entity that does not exceed your level by 10 to do your bidding as undead. Costs 20 Mana base+10 Mana per level above you (Level 1) (Unique) (Active) (Necromantic Affinity). You may use [SMP] to further upgrade this ability: Mucle memory: Your undead can perform complex movements and create formations, (Cost: 15 [SMP]), Promotion: You may promote your undead, the higher the tier, the more intelligence they gain, and the more authority they have over your undead, (Costs: 5 [SMP])]
[You gain a new stat: [Control limit: 20] [(Can only be increased by leveling up)]
[A certain Goddess grants you a quest with the intention of making the host fr-]
[A certain Goddess hits the System]
[A certain Goddess tells the system that it wouldn't want to make her unhappy]
[The System bows its head to {The D-}
[A certain Goddess hits the System again]
[The System cowers in the corner crying]
[A certain Goddess grabs the system and starts to corrupt it]
[The System tries to run away]
[A certain Goddess stops the system]
[The System begs the host for help]
[CRITICAL SYSTEM ERROR]
[The System has gained the title: {Puppet to {
[QUEST RECIEVED: Escape from the prison and make those responsable pay (Legendary Quest) (Rewards: Freedom, A [Map to {The Dead Goddess}], Free {The Dead Goddess} quest)]
[A certain Goddess tells you to go get em']
"What the fuck is going on up there?" James murmured, "And what's up with the 'A certain Goddess' bullshit?" He shrugged, not thinking about it too much. For him, bigger numbers=better, Goddes give him bigger numbers, James like Goddess.
As his consciousness faded, James allowed himself a grim smile. He wasn't done yet. Not by a long shot.