Taming the Dark Lord - Chapter 55

Chapter 55 – The Massacre Culprit (2)

Oya street?

Wasn’t that the place where she saved Alfonso?

The familiarity of the street’s name was evident on Amelia’s face, but she pressed her lips together, turned her head away and said nothing.

The necromancer carried on speaking, unfazed by the saint’s obvious recollection of the said street. “So it was you. I guess I found the right person then. It’s kind of strange, though. I don’t remember anything from that day. I don’t even remember how I killed all those people, but I do remember what you look like.”

“It must be one of you saints who influenced my behavior, huh? Destroying my sanity and urging me to kill. Such a strong power you possess. So tell me, who among you has such ability?”

The necromancer leaned his head closer to Amelia’s, his eyes cold and unforgiving. “Answer me.” His foot squashed her hand even harder, tilting it from side to side making Amelia gasp.

The pressure he was putting on her hand shifted depending on his mood; sometimes it was loose enough to make Amelia catch her breath, most of the time firm enough to make Amelia sob into tears.

And at this moment, it was the latter.

Amelia cried from the pain. Her blonde hair was smeared with her own blood, covering most of her face as it hid her tormented expression.

Her hand that was crushed trembled, fingers fidgeting as it scrambled on the marble flooring.

“It seems like it wasn’t you, then. So, where is the little mouse? Where are you hiding him?” The necromancer asked sternly. However, Amelia remained unspeaking, sobbing quietly to herself. The lack of response aggravated the necromancer even more. “I’m speaking to you, aren’t I?” He grabbed Amelia by the collar and lifted her up as if she weighed nothing, “Didn’t your parents teach you any manners? Didn’t they tell you that you should answer when someone’s speaking to you?” The necromancer spoke with venom lacing his voice, looking at Amelia like he wanted to kill her with his bare hands. “If that’s the case, let me teach you a lesson.”

“Let her go!” Debra suddenly screamed, driving her wand against the man’s back as she stuttered, “I don’t care who you are. If you don’t want to die, let her go right this second!”

The necromancer tilted his head sideways, looking over his shoulder to glance at Debra.

The air around them was stiff, and nothing but the sounds of Amelia and Debra’s ragged breathing could be heard across the space.

Amelia couldn’t see her expression very well, but the fear in Debra’s voice as well as the chattering of her teeth proved that she was terrified out of her wits.

“My father died long before I was born. He was a nobleman, and he’s the one who passed me my status and blood. He was a man of purity, unlike you who’s like a sewer rat!” Debra seethed, flinching under the necromancer’s fierce gaze but she continued on nonetheless, voice trembling still. “You better let us go, and leave right now! When the Crown Pope gets here, he will surely make you pay for your sins!”

“Did my words fall into deaf ears?” The necromancer asked, still holding Amelia with one hand. He was not at all pleased for being interrupted so rudely, “You are still young, so you wouldn’t understand. I’ll let this disrespect slip once, so you stay there and keep your mouth shut. If you dare cause more trouble, I will not hesitate to kill you as well.”

He warned, and several skeletal hands instantly emerged from the ground. They skittered towards Debra and enveloped her whole body and dragged her into the ground inch by inch.

“Debra!” Amelia called out in horror, craning her neck away from the iron grip as she called for her over and over.

“Stop it, it’s not like she’ll die anyway.” The necromancer turned and looked at Amelia’s pale-stricken face.

His patience was already worn out, gone in the wind as he fixed his gaze at her, stony and void of warmth. “Where is the dark elf? Where did you hide him?”

“W-what dark elf.. I don’t understand…” Amelia choked out with difficulty. The clutch the necromancer had on her didn’t falter one bit, suffocating her as he prodded, “Stop lying. I was there when you saved the elf.” He stroked Amelia’s face like a parent would a child, but his touch was nothing but cold. “I was also there when you let the two girls escape. I helped you that time, don’t you remember?”

Her throat was constricted, rendering her unable to breathe properly. Hearing the man’s words made her recall what happened that very day, and she remembered the flame that suddenly went berserk and turned into black. She always thought that Alfonso was behind it, but it was the necromancer all along.

He had been following her all this time.

As if the cloud of haze was abruptly lifted, every, little unfathomable thing that ensued for the past few weeks became crystal clear. All of it was the necromancer’s doing, and for the first time today, Amelia felt calm, the gears in her head turning as she recalled everything.

“So the killer eagle they were talking about… It was you, huh?”