Dark Lord: Rise to Power

Ragna's face had gone pale. She forced a smile on her face, "Yaa….yaa are joking right? Yaa funny man!"

Arin replied calmly, "No I am not!"

"Then why?" Ragna asked with a desperate tone, "Why did not yaa tell me the first time we met?"

"In that public place?" he replied at calm and composed voice, "and risk whole town chasing me down with torch and pitchfork? I did not even know you well to reveal myself!"

"Then do ya know me enough now to reveal yarself? Why have ya revealed yar identity?" she asked, "or ya think because ya saved my life, I should now stay silent? Are ya not being too gullible?"

"Pardon?" he said with a bit of surprise.

"Wait!" she spoke with a hint of tease, "don't tell me that ya are one among those who believe that Barbarians are simple minded fools, who are trustworthy, and whose loyalty can be earned easily doing favors for them!"

Now that was obviously one reason for Arin. But he could not admit that now to her. So, he quickly changed his narrative.

He replied, "Not at all! At that time, I was within walls of Siterion. If you had told everyone, I would have nowhere to hide, or I could not escape either. But now I am in these woods, outside Siterion or Drihan's direct jurisdiction. It would not be easy to catch me, out in the Wild! Even if you go back now to the city and inform me about the authority, they are not going to catch me any way!"

Ragna fell silent. She felt whatever Arin was telling made perfect sense. She was completely at loss.

"What have I gotten myself into?" she thought, her heart was pounding in her chest like turaag's drum. The cold chill of realization swept over her as she looked at the man before her—her savior. The same man who felt bonding with first time they met, the first person around whom she felt relaxed, and, in this wretched dungeon, who had pulled her from the clutches of death. He wasn't just any man. He was a necromancer.

The word 'Necromancer' echoed in her mind, carrying with it all the fear and prejudice she had grown up with. The stories she had heard, the warnings whispered in the dark—all of them surged to the forefront of her thoughts. She asked herself, "Necromancers were supposed to be evil, weren't they? Dark, twisted beings who reveled in death and decay. Yet, here he was, having saved her life. The contradiction was almost too much to bear".

How could someone like him be capable of such kindness? She found herself questioning everything she thought she knew. The gratitude she felt was tangled with fear and confusion. "Was he truly different from the monstrous image painted by her tribe in Tundra, or the Plain folks of this land?" she thought, "Or was this some elaborate trap?".

She couldn't reconcile the gentle hands that had healed her wounds with the dark magic that flowed through his veins. Her instincts screamed at her to run, to get as far away from him as possible. But another part of her—a quieter, more rational part—urged her to stay. He had saved her, after all. "Did that not count for something?" she asked herself.

Although his face was covered behind the strange mask, but, she felt, there was a hint of vulnerability in his eyes, a glimpse of a person behind the necromancer facade.

"Could it be that she had been wrong all along? Could it be those necromancers, too, had their own stories, their own struggles?" she wondered.

"What if he's not the monster I've been led to believe?" Ragna pondered, her fear slowly giving way to curiosity. The urge to understand him, to uncover the truth, was stronger than the urge to flee. She felt in his mind, perhaps, just perhaps, there was more to him than the darkness that defined his kind.

She realized, "I need to know why he saved me." The thought was clear, cutting through the fog of her emotions. She had to understand his motivations, his intentions. Only then could she truly decide whether to trust him or not. With a deep breath, she steeled herself, ready to face the answers she sought.

Ragna made a serious face, "Answer me, honestly! Why did ya save me?"

Arin feigned innocence, "why would not I?"

She was startled by his innocent question. She gulped, collected her thoughts, and then replied, "third level of this dungeon is not fit for someone of yar level! Why did ya risk yarself to look for me here? Why did ya risk yar life to save mine!"

There were many pragmatic reasonings behind his decision, but of course he could not tell her those. So, he just shrugged his shoulder and said, "I don't know!"

Even in this tense situation, suddenly she felt smile. And even after her best effort, she could not suppress her smile. "Ya are a fool!"

Arin shrugged his shoulder again.

"So," she said, "are ya still going to hide yar face to me behind the mask! Let me guess behind it is a skull? Or, rotten face? Or a bat like face with sharp big fangs? I am ready to face it, whatever the mask is hiding!"

Now this time, Arin could not control his own smile, and burst into laughter! "You have really strange imaginations!" he said while laughing.

He decided to show her his true face, not the Brutus face. After Lumiyan and Auriya- the Elf siblings, she would be third person who was going to see his true face. Even Zulkarnash had not seen his true face. So he too was interested.

Arin took out his mask!

Before Ragna could react or speak anything, Zulkarnash dropped on his knees and prostrated, "Long Live Soul Reaver! The Blessed by Soul Sovereign!"

Ragna just smiled, "So, let's get out from here!"

Zulkarnash nodded, "I too agree with the lady, Milord! This level is interconnected with some deep level where some ancient forces linger who are not to be trifled with!"

Arin found it odd, the mention of 'ancient forces. But decided to leave the level, after despatching the carcass of the beasts whose life force, he had drained.