After a few seconds, Greem looked at it again, and cold sweat appeared on his face. His ring had finished analysing the curse.
[Skull Sect Curse Tattoo - Inferno
Description:
A stark, black skull tattoo that seems to absorb the light around it. It is cold to the touch. Bound to the intermediate rank acolyte Malakor, and is a hybrid spell combining both shadow and fire magical knowledge.
Effects:
Tattoo Bond: The curse is bound to the user's body. To dispell it, (40) points in [Shadow Magical Knowledge] and (55) in [Curse Knowledge] are required, alongside a water-elemental core. Status: Curse knowledge insufficient to dispell it.
Effects: The curse can be activated by Malakor to explode. There are three underlying spells inscribed in it: [Sparkle], a minor spell that would spread across the user's torso and cause mild burn, probably acting as a deterrant. The second spell is [Fireball], claiming the host's life if unprotected. The third spell is [Shadow Tracking] allowing Malakor to know the position of the user.
The curse can only be activated if Malakor in a 3-miles radius]
This was not your average curse. A 3-layer-curse that could be activated from a 3-miles distance...Unless he used [Shadow Cloak] the moment Malakor activated the curse, he would likely not survive the curse.
Curse knowledge was not easy to get by, even in the Black Widow Association. Even if Greem had access to it, regular acolytes would need a decade to reach the requirements to dispell the curse, which was probably the reason why Malakor felt so casual after embedding it on Greem's skin.
Greem, however, knew that it was a simple matter of how much effort he needed. Killing Malakor, too, was an option, as the simplest way to dispell a curse was to kill the origin.
Malakor gestured to his subordinates, who began dragging Willem and Iriana. They were not treated with care, their hands handling them roughly. The bat put in a huge net and dragged across the ground, whereas Willem and Iriana were bound in ropes, carried by the Lv. 3 Acolyte who seemed to be a bloodline and body refinement acolyte at the same time. He had single-handedly managed to beat Moe, so he probably had some knight training.
Greem frowned. If they died, his cover and reputation in the Association would plummet.
Malakor's eyes did not blink even once and continued: "They will be our… guests. I did not lie when I said you could keep your cover..."
Greem nodded. He had not accepted the offer blindly. Malakor had some fame attached to his name.
As Greem was led deeper into the catacombs, past altars of bone and through chambers humming with dark energy, he saw the truth.
The other Skull Sect acolytes were weak, at most Level 4 for the majority of them. Malakor, at Level 9, was their pinnacle. They truly had been unlucky, encountering their strongest members on the third level of the Catacombs.
They were a sect of low-talents, clinging to the legacy of a greater power, but their sheer numbers made Greem reevaluate his choice of joining the sect.
'It is unlike anything I have read about the Skull Sect in the library or what people talk about...Malakor must have set up strict rules as there were not even that many deaths in the Catacombs in the past year...', Greem analysed
Malakor gathered the sect around a table, allowing Greem to see each one of them.
[Lv. 1 Acolyte] x3
[Lv. 2 Acolyte] x11
[Lv. 3 Acolyte] x6
[Lv. 4 Acolyte] x4
[Lv. 5 Acolyte] x2
[Lv. 6 Acolyte] x1
[Malakor - Lv. 9 Acolyte] x1
28 Acolytes in total, all of whom lived in the catacombs. There was probably a couple of them who did not answer the call, either due to a mission or wandering in the catacombs, but it was enough for Greem to assess the organisation's true power.
He was inside the Skull Sect Temple.
And he now understood the Skull Sect's greatest weakness: they were desperate for true talent. He could use that. He would rise here, and when the time was right, he would decide who truly ruled these bones.
"Brothers and sisters," Malakor announced. "This is Greem. He has chosen to join our cause. He is one of us now."
A low murmur went through the crowd. An older acolyte, a Level 4, stepped forward. His face was wrinkled and sour.
"Master Malakor, with respect," the elder said. "We know nothing of this Black Widow pawn. How can we trust him?"
Malakor held up a hand, silencing the murmurs. "Enough. Your doubts are noted. But we do not operate on blind faith. We will test him"
An elder, the Lv. 6 that had easily captured Willem and Iriana, stepped forward at Malakor's decision. He continued: "I am Elder Borin, the first leader of the Black Skull sect, Malakor's predecessor if you like. We serve a great power. A sleeping power. Deep beneath this temple rests a Magus-level being: a Shadow Wyvern. It is wounded. It slumbers."
The acolytes listened, their eyes wide. This was clearly a sacred truth for them.
"The Wyvern feeds on flesh and life force. In return for our offerings, it grants us power. It gives us the power we need to survive."
He gestured to a large, dark crystal on a stone pedestal. "Place your hand on it."
Greem did as he was told. The crystal remained dormant for a second, then flared to life. A deep, inky blackness swirled inside it, so dark it seemed to swallow the light in the room. Tendrils of shadow leaked from the crystal and wrapped around Greem's arm.
A collective gasp went through the chamber.
"Grade III Shadow Talent," Malakor declared, his voice flat but his eyes gleaming, "A rarity. Do any of you still wish to question his loyalty?"
Borin nodded in approval, himself having only grade II affinity.
A voice, from a Lv. 3 Acolyte, his voice sharp: "Talent is one thing, Master Malakor, father Borin. Loyalty is another. He belongs to the Black Widow Association. Let him prove where his loyalties truly lie"
The elder Borin frowned: "Enough, son", revealing their connections. How else would a Lv. 3 dare to say such a thing?
Malakor considered this, then nodded. "A fair point." He turned his cold eyes to Greem. "You have shadow talent, yes. But talent without loyalty is a weapon that turns in your hand. Prove your loyalty to the sect. Kill the female acolyte. Do it now."
Greem's blood ran cold. He cursed inwardly. Although he did not know Iriana for long, she was still part of Willem's network. For her to die in a mission like that, their party would suffer a loss of reputation. Not just from Elizabeth, but from the whole Association. It was a stain on their fast and perfect track so far.
He saw no way out. Refusal meant death.
"Fine," Greem said, his voice flat.
The bloodline acolyte shoved Iriana forward. Her eyes were wide with terror, a gag stifling her pleas. Greem did not hesitate. He could not afford to show weakness. He unsheathed his cross sword. With a single, brutal motion, he drove it into her heart. Her body went limp and was dragged away.
A simple, deadly thrust. But her eyes, a stare of terror and pure hatred. That's something he had not seen in a long time. It's not like he had not killed before. He had taken part in many assassination missions under Elizabeth's orders before.
But killing a friend, a teammate was different. Although short-lived, she had opened her heart to him, described stories about her previous parties, and although brief, her eyes yearned for his approval. She had come to admire him, his talent, his skills, his leadership. Yet, he killed her, he drove his blade into her heart. For her, it was something impossible to conceive, and turned all this admiration in pure hatred.
The members of the Skull Sect nodded, their suspicion replaced by a grim approval.
[You have killed [Iriana - Lv. 4 Acolyte]. You have gained 25 EXP]
25 EXP. The cold, mechanical voice reverberated in his mind, alongside the rounds of applause.
Malakor gave a slow, satisfied smile. "Good. That was the final step. Now, here is your true purpose. The Black Widow Association thinks you are a loyal member on a deep-cover mission, correct? That's the only reason we spared the vampire one. Judging by his performance in the earlier battle, he seems to be more valuable than the woman. A core member of your team, right?"
Greem bit his lips, having been seen through: "Yes, indeed. He used to be my leader, but I was found more suitable for that position. People still call us the Blood bats, due to his iconic contracted magical beast"
Some acolytes nodded. Although they knew better than to attempt infiltrating Lunia with the monstrous three-eyed crows watching the movements of its every inhabitant and ordering the killing of any acolyte not belonging to the association, they still heard some rumours about their core members.
Greem was not an intermediate rank acolyte, but their team had risen pretty fast.
Rumours travelled fast too.
"Perfect," Malakor said. "You will be our double agent. You will return to them. You will feed them small, unimportant truths about us. And you will bring us the secrets of the Association. You will send strong acolytes into our territory, where we can ambush and feed them to the Wyvern"
The other acolytes finally understood. They saw the cunning of the plan. Their doubts about Greem vanished, replaced by the vision of the power he could help them steal.
"Now...I promised you power", Malakor spoke, "Come with me"
Many acolytes' face turned dark.
Only the most loyal and strongest acolytes were given this privilege. They called it the 'Ascension', the gift of the magus-level beast that slept in the profoundness of the temple.