But true horror was yet to come.
“[Eternal Damnation].” Quinlan activated the imbued spell of the Soul Reaper.
As her lifeless body crumpled to the ground, the saber’s blue flames surged outward, morphing into tendrils of spectral fire that reached toward her falling head. The flames coiled around her mouth, ears, and finally, her eyes, which flickered with a ghostly light as her soul was ripped from her body before it could ascend to the heavens to greet the Goddess – defying the very laws of the universe.
Although Quinlan didn’t know it yet, ripping one’s soul out of their body wasn’t how necromancy should’ve worked.
It was the Soul Records itself who bestowed this ability on Quinlan when it granted him the Harbinger of Ruin subclass of the Primordial Villain class. Björn’s creation, the dwarven primordial who crafted the pitch-black saber and sealed its effects behind requirements to be met, was influenced by the Soul Records to morph into a weapon upon meeting said requirements that synchronized with this one-of-a-kind ability.
Why was stealing one’s soul a one-of-a-kind ability?
It went against the sustained continuation of the universe, for it was the antithesis of life itself.
When one died, their souls were to be recycled to assist in the formation of a new life, for each world had a set number of souls inhabiting it, and that number couldn’t be increased.
Each world had at least one God or Goddess ruling over them as its administrator, and one of their tasks was receiving the souls of the dead, separating the tainted parts from the untainted so that they could cleanse the tainted ones of any corruption, after which the two parts would be merged together once again, which allowed newborns to be innocent until the world and the seven deadly sins corrupted them once again, which would be cleansed upon their deaths, and the cycle would repeat endlessly, creating a sustainable, healthy soul ecosystem.
This recycling method was the reason why people couldn’t remember their past lives, and also why the saying ‘meet the Goddess’ was so widespread in the world of Thalorind. The primordials knew of this process, and some of them – mostly Malakar who was the definition of a mass murderer in his youth – would say this line before they killed a mortal, and thus the saying spread.
So no, one couldn’t have an amicable chat with the Goddess while the two sipped tea and ate biscuits, she would rip the souls of the dead apart instantly upon coming into contact with them to complete her sworn duty.
As for when the cycle of rebirth was broken, meaning the souls of the dead weren’t being recycled for whatever reason, that was the sign of a broken world that was doomed to become extinct once all currently living mortals died.
That’s right; Quinlan tore Eve’s soul out of this cycle, forcibly subjugating her into his eternal service.
empire
As for why was the Soul Records granting him this unique ability?
… Only time will tell, but let’s just say that the title ‘Harbinger of Ruin’ wasn’t selected at random.
In the week that passed since Quinlan gained access to the Soul Reaper, he couldn’t collect souls. The reason behind this was that he tried to collect the souls of monsters, but he didn’t know that they weren’t part of this cycle, for they didn’t have souls in the first place. This was what fundamentally separated intelligent humanoids (demons, elves, vampires, humans, etc) from monsters (goblins, ogres, werewolves, dragons, etc).
With that out of the way…
A haunting, ethereal scream echoed through the battlefield, not from Eve’s lips, but from her very essence as it was dragged into the blade. The tendrils tightened, constricting her soul like a python suffocating its prey, before yanking it into the saber’s core. The flames flared brilliantly for a moment, illuminating the entire area with an unholy light before they subsided, retreating back into the blade.
The saber pulsed with a deep, resonant thrum, and its flames were now slightly less vivid as well as erratic than before as if it had feasted on her essence and grown momentarily satiated – or perhaps it was just in the middle of digesting its meal.
The man tilted his head to the side to admire the weapon. “What an unruly blade you are… We can’t have you tormenting my slain enemies, at least not in a way that makes their screams echo across the battlefield… I’ll have to subjugate you properly, I can already tell.” The blade thrummed strongly this time, as if in objection to his statement of calling it a disobedient weapon.
He chuckled, and while observing the desecrated corpse of the woman, he muttered, “Barely level 30… No wonder you were relegated to driver duties. Once I become a Necromancer, you shall know what true purpose feels like, Eve.”
He then turned his head toward the artifact carriage, where the twins emerged while hiding behind the form of Sylvaris.
They decided that it was best if they fought in the open instead of waiting for the man to destroy them inside the vehicle. To that effect, the twins grabbed their staves – because of course, they were both Wizard-classed, which were often the favored class nobles bestowed upon their children.
Before stepping out, though, the two bombarded Sylvaris with dozens of orders, which forced her to protect the two of them to the best of her ability, while doing her utmost to defeat the man and any other enemies.
“… I always hoped to meet you, but not in these circumstances.” The man greeted with a subtle bow of his head toward the elven matriarch.
Sylvaris returned the gesture with a similar bow. “I’ll have to do my utmost to kill you, but I hope you win from the bottom of my heart. Don’t hold back.”
“You aren’t allowed to converse either until we say otherwise!” Amara shouted with a mix of fury and fright.
“[A-A-Aqua Bolt]!” Vivienne yelled her spell, but her hands were trembling so badly that their enemy didn’t even have to do anything for it to miss.
Instead of being happy that he didn’t suffer an injury, the man seemed to be angered, disgusted even, evidenced by his spitting; “Pathetic.”
“Wait, isn’t this that scumbag called Black?! The size fits, and he has the motive…” Amara yelled with a ghostly face.
“Show me what you’re made of, mother-in-law.” Their enemy didn’t even bother answering Amara’s question as he completely ignored her, after which lightning crackled around his form and he dashed forth.