Umbra's curious expression lingered. Forcing Ragnar into a quick haze.
What was he going to ask now?
"Can I remove it? Actually I've never tried".
"No".
"Why?"
"You wouldn't even want to remove it."
"You're avoiding the question," Umbra noted, his voice adopting a sheen of ice.
"The answer is a bit queer…and I have no reason why it's so. The locket's power can only be broken by the only person who truly loves you, and is not family."
"Like a sister, or wife?"
"As far as she loves you dearly,and perhaps it's also vice versa. And it's very difficult to maintain love as a Prince of Darkness."
Umbra knew why, so he didn't speak.
First, his volatile nature…with such a ticking bomb that literally screamed 'RUN' to every potential bride.
Meanwhile, he'd ended up having one night stands with much older women.
He knew they came after him for his rumored god–strength libido.
Ragnar had been instrumental in shielding the young Prince from most of them.
Which included wives and daughters of nobles and even neighboring kings.
Judging from their immortality, some would have outlived about twenty wives.
"Umph, okay. So no Prince managed to remove his?"
Ragnar opened his mouth uncertainly. He really didn't want to give an answer to that.
Umbra's cold eyes drew him in. A steely warning seemed to flash in them.
"Is it possible, or it isn't?"
"Why does it matter to you?"
"Would you mind answering?" Umbra's voice dripped with contempt now.
"Some did. There are tricks. I don't know any, but a really desperate Prince will always manage to find some resort."
Umbra wondered why a sane human would strive to such lengths for an absolute suicidal power.
"Most of those Princes prayed to the progenitors of their bloodline. Every single prince was always descending from a divine bloodline."
"Mine is the Szen Incarnas, right? You said it once."
"Yes", Ragna nodded grimly. "But the point is, everyone bemoaned every released prince. Each one of them always underestimated the power once they were freed.
The essence was too harmful to their vessels and killed them almost instantly. None lasted more than six months. The last time it happened, it was a torturous process to finish him off."
"Why?", Umbra was completely enthralled in the thrilling tale.
"Those powers ended up possessing…or rather, influencing their mindsets erratically. Vast majorities of them turned evil.
The one I'm just spoke about, Niklaus the Blood thirsty…became a national bully who went on a killing spree till he was killed."
"So they can actually be killed in that invincible state?"
"I won't call it invincible, but close enough. You'd become powerful enough to rival a god, but at the cost of your own body and vital essence."
"So who did the miracles?"
"A group of Cruceni overlords in the city of Vandel Marakin about two hundred years ago. Secretly helped by some Incarnas overlords, including my grandfather, Balve.
The battle nearly ended their civilization and decimated their population mercilessly. That is why they don't want you alive".
"A lot of people don't want me alive", Umbra sighed reflectively. "At least, I do know that much."
"That's why you have to stay put till you get powerful enough to protect yourself and other people from yourself".
Umbra stared at Ragna, who suddenly had the foreboding of a second question; a question he had always been asked, and to which he had never given a reasonable reply.
"Who's my father?".
"He's a very high ranking demon, bear that in mind. But I can't reveal his name to you."
"Why?"
"It will be of more harm than good. Forget about it, one day you will find out on your own."
"I want to know it now."
"Then, I have nothing to tell you."
Boy and man glared at each other for a few seconds.
Ragna broke off first, looking harried.
Umbra's steely purple eyes could be seriously intimidating sometimes. Even to those far more powerful than him.
Sure enough, Umbra was the Prince of Darkness, powerful enough to obliterate a whole realm in his prime.
But unlike other previous Princes who started to witness their own power at early ages, Umbra's only came in short bursts.
This led Ragnar to call in a tutor to teach him how to utilize his natural Soul energy.
All to ensure that he didn't get left behind while waiting for his powers.
And no one had any idea he was so different.
"I can only hope you didn't leave anything behind," Ragna rose, a tone of finality evident in his voice.
"The Cruceni would use anything left behind to build up a curse against you. Like I said, you're a mortal enemy."
The remaining blood in Umbra's face flushed. Ragna could tell immediately.
"What?", he asked quietly.
"The sword", Umbra looked up in despair. "The Shadow Blade. A clone of it anyway, but I left the hilt back there –"
"Hang on, what do you mean by 'the hilt'?" Ragna asked, affronted.
His heartbeat quickened exponentially. He tried not to believe his intuition.
"A certain sorceress broke the sword, and left me with this," Umbra gestured to his injury.
"Broke it?"
Umbra didn't reply, recalling that hooded witch's face.
"This is serious", Ragna looked extremely worried, "A normal Cruceni sorceress shattered the Shadow Blade clone?"
"I'm not blabbering,"Umbra said flatly, " and she isn't all that regular; she actually headed the hunting group".
"Which changes nothing", Ragna snapped, worry still etched on his face.
The Shadow Blade was a blade of the Shadow realm extraction. Originally kept by Nakamai, it'd been cloned and given to Umbra.
The only known ability of the Shadow Blade was its severe fatality to Beasts, Lycans and other breeds, obviously including Cruceni.
Mortals were no exception too.
It's original also had the guttural reputation of initiating evil tendencies in the mind of its bearer, through its mental ability to communicate to him.
Yes…you heard it right. A talking evil sword.
Due to this risk, Umbra had held the Shadow Blade only once; when he had duplicated it.
Now it'd been broken, he knew he had to brace himself and do it again.
"So what do we have to do?"
Ragna and Umbra's eyes met, and some sort of agreement passed between them.
Exchanging words through glances…a favorite pastime of the two.
Umbra's heart began to beat rapidly in excitement.
He could almost hear it from Ragna's mind…something he had only read about in books…experienced part-time only once.
And now that he was old enough…. he'd surely take part.
War.
"We will have to invade", Ragna said heavily. "For two principal reasons; to retrieve the hilt, I can't imagine what weapon they could use to facilitate it if that witch is powerful enough to break it."
"And the second reason?,"Umbra prompted.
"The Cruceni have infringed on our honour, thinking us impotent, by this very attempt on your life. Many Cruceni have crossed the Sheath unbidden before, and we spared them."
Umbra didn't quite get Ragna's point, but he nodded like he understood.
After all, who didn't want this?
"What about the sorceress?"
"That's your assignment; train to beat her, and try not to kill but to capture; she may be a valuable asset to us later on".
"I get your point", Umbra nodded, "So you're invading?"
"Nakamai has enough resources to go to war comfortably at the moment.
Also, I want to give you more than enough time to prepare. You will have to try to use your powers at your possible max, without losing control. Like I've already explained, your powers are possessive and full of pure harmful demonic essence.
They always tend to possess the host, and if it happens – you know the rest".
"Yes, I think I do".
"We will move in a couple of weeks…months probably ", Ragna ignored Umbra's sarcastic remark.
"And we are going to notify them tomorrow. I will send emissaries -"
" – They may never return –" Umbra interrupted.
"I'm aware. Just train as though your opponent is training for you. So beware."
"What if she tries to kill me? She seemed really powerful".
"Then…"Ragna thought of what to say, "Your father may come to your aid".
Umbra wondered for the umpteenth time who his father was, but he kept his mouth shut.
"However, I believe in you", Ragna smiled. "So eat some food, try to catch some rest…and then tomorrow, you can begin".
"How am I supposed to train? Alone?"
Ragna clapped his hand to his forehead, sighing.
"It's time to put one of your favorite pastimes to good use… it's a probability anyway."
"Can you stop speaking in implicit terms?", Umbra asked, slightly miffed.
"You will have to summon a dead sorcerer…a grandmaster at the very least…"
Umbra waited for Ragna to finish his rants, and reply to his question.
Ragna noticed his disdainful expression and frowned.
"I'm not raving, sonny. All this while you've been reading volumes far above your level…I guess things are about to get experimental."
He looked down at Umbra to see how his countenance was. Like he expected, it was slightly impassive, with a little hint of alarm.
"It's not all that dangerous, but it could get," he explained reassuringly.
"It's a favourable bit of your power, but you would have to be extremely careful because at the point of interaction, at which you recall the dead, your powers assume a higher potential than your body and resonates, being so close to its natural ally, Death.
"The locket and your self-will are your only chances at that intermediate crux," he continued grimly. "Your powers will tend to possess and use you to cause havoc, so you have to try as much as possible to keep your mind straight throughout the encounter."
"Got it."
Ragna smiled again, but Umbra stared back unnerved. Of course, he was a jovial fellow, but matters like this guaranteed no smiles.
He was probably ruminating on all the risks he was taking, by undertaking this ethereal venture.
"So…good night. I wish you the best of luck. You will need privacy so I will limit the number of your visitors to a single kitchen maid."
Umbra scowled deeply, his expression bony as Ragna strode out of the room.
War, Necromancy and an Invasion?
Just how colourful was his life about to get?