Chapter2

Father's battle wound was deteriorating.

I stood by his bedside, staring at the hideous gash tearing from his shoulder down to his chest. Count Black was once the kingdom's most valiant knight; now, he lay dying, agonizingly consumed by a cursed, unhealing magical scar.

"William, I don't think I can hold on much longer," Father rasped weakly. "The estate... it all rests on your shoulders now."

I pressed my right hand over his wound. Golden healing magic quietly surged forth.

A warm glow enveloped the torn flesh, but as it touched the magical toxins buried deep within, I noticed wisps of black smoke rising. The healing magic seemed to be purifying something truly sinister.

The rotting flesh began to knit together, and the agony knotting Father's face slowly smoothed away.

Yet, I felt absolutely nothing.

The side effects of the healing scroll were taking hold. I was growing increasingly numb to the suffering of others. Even my concern for my own father was evaporating.

"How... how is this possible?" Father stared at the completely healed skin in absolute shock. "William, you can use magic?"

"An ability I acquired by accident," I said, withdrawing my hand. "Don't tell anyone."

Father nodded, though his eyes brimmed with doubt.

I left his room. Catching my reflection in the hallway mirror, I glanced at my left hand. Ashen spots had already crawled up to my wrist. The corruption of the necromantic magic was accelerating.

"William?"

Aria's voice came from behind. I rapidly yanked my sleeve down to hide the gray rot.

"Were you just talking to the Count?" She walked over. "I heard strange noises. It sounded like... magic."

"You misheard."

"You've been acting so strange lately, William." Aria frowned. "Always so secretive, and..."

"And what?"

"And the way you look at me has changed. Your eyes used to be so full of warmth. Now they're ice-cold, like you're looking at a complete stranger."

I wanted to explain. I wanted to tell her it was the side effect of the healing magic, that the coldness wasn't intentional. But as the words reached my lips, a suffocating aura of death suddenly gripped me.

The curse of the prophecy.

The one who reveals the truth must die.

I swallowed every word of explanation back down. "It's nothing. You're overthinking."

A flash of hurt crossed Aria's eyes. "William, we are husband and wife. What could you possibly need to hide from me?"

"There's nothing to tell."

I turned and walked away, leaving Aria standing alone in the corridor.

Deep in the night, I stood alone in the basement, practicing dual magic.

With every cast of necromancy, the rot in my left hand deepened. Now, my entire left arm was webbed with grayish, necrotic veins. It looked like the limb of a corpse.

With every cast of healing magic, my emotional perception grew duller. Aria's tears no longer brought me pain; my father's suffering no longer mattered to me.

I was losing my humanity.

But I had to endure.

In three days, the Great Magical Explosion would occur. Only dual magic could activate the protective ward. To keep Aria safe, I was willing to pay any price.

"William?"

Aria's voice drifted down the stairs. I rapidly dispersed the magic, but I was too late.

She saw the ashen decay on my left hand.

"What is that?" Aria pointed at my arm, her face pale with shock. "William, what happened to your hand? What is this gray stuff?"

"It's nothing." I pulled my sleeve down. "Just a skin condition."

"A skin condition?" Aria didn't buy it for a second. "That is clearly the mark of magical corruption! William, what on earth are you hiding?"

I remained silent.

The curse forbade me from speaking the truth.

"You can use magic, can't you?" Aria pressed closer. "I heard the sound of magic earlier, and Father's wound suddenly healed. None of this is a coincidence!"

"Aria, stop asking."

"Why?" Tears swelled in her eyes. "I am your wife. Why won't you tell me anything? Do you not trust me?"

I wanted to say that I trusted her. I wanted to say that I was hiding it to protect her, that everything I did was for her sake.

But the curse sliced at my throat like a blade.

"There are some things you don't need to know."

Aria's face instantly drained of color.

"I don't need to know?" Her voice trembled. "William, we've been married for three years, and now you're telling me there are things I don't need to know?"

"Aria—"

"Enough!" She spun around and stormed up the stairs. "Since you don't trust me, we have nothing left to say!"

Slam!

The bedroom door shut violently.

I stood in the basement, feeling the agonizing bite of the corruption in my left arm, yet finding zero emotional ripple in my heart.

The side effects of the healing magic had stripped me even of my guilt toward Aria.

I was losing her.

Just like the previous three times.

But this time, I was prepared. I knew exactly when Victor would appear, and exactly what words he would use to seduce Aria.

I would not let history repeat itself.

For the next few days, Aria barely spoke to me. She began going out alone, sometimes not returning for the entire day.

I knew what she was doing.

She was searching for information on magic, desperate to understand the changes happening to me.

That was exactly how it started the previous three times.

Meanwhile, my physical condition was worsening. The rot in my left arm had spread to my shoulder, bringing excruciating pain every night. What was even more terrifying was that I was growing numb to this pain as well.

I was losing my perception of pain, my capacity for joy, my ability to love.

I was becoming a living corpse.

But I had to hold on.