Working for Jack of Blades has been one of my greatest pleasures. For years, I had strived to succeed in the Heroes Guild before they kicked me out.

  So what if I used necromancy? The Guild claimed they didn't care about the spells or morals we wielded. So I am evil? So what? I have money and prestige! That means I can do whatever I want, and there are no consequences. I also possess power, unlike the commoners, a lesson my father instilled in me: power means freedom.

  Too bad I never quite got that mind control spell to work properly. Had it succeeded, I could have still become a hero. For six long months, I attempted to brainwash one of the female apprentices from the Guild. Even after amputating her arms and legs and removing her tongue so she couldn't call for help, she never broke.

  She only ever gave me that hateful glare every time I used her. According to the Guild Master, I was banished because of this attack against another apprentice. The real reason? He probably disliked me personally, maybe out of jealousy that I was of noble birth, wishing he had thought of my techniques himself. Years later, I found out she chose to end her life. What a waste!

  Banished from the Guild and forced to seek my own fortune as the third son of my house, what was I, Ian Trant, to do? I fell into the old profession of capturing and trading Nymphs. Eventually, my talent for creating unique spells caught Jack of Blades’ attention, and I was taken under his wing.

  Recently, one of my best trappers and traffickers went missing. I had an urgent order from a very important customer that he needed to fulfill quickly. Apparently, a certain duke's Nymph had transformed—evolved, he called it—into something he was now referring to as a "Succubus Queen" and had broken free. Thanks to a hefty payment to the Guild to hunt down and eliminate this terrifying creature, all I had to worry about now was replacing the duke's favorite toy.

  I set out to find my missing associate. Following the trail from his home, I noted the dragging marks in the ground. Burt had always been fairly strong but lacked endurance, often allowing the cages to drag behind him as he made his way to the woods. Following the trail led me into the Great Woods, near the entry point to the Dark Woods. There, I discovered an old, broken bear trap—one of Burt's tools.

  Using my necromancy spells, I traced a weak connection from the trap to Burt’s remains. I had planned to resurrect his body and ask who had killed him. A discovery I had made, but never shared with the Guild, was that the undead have no soul. I had told Jack this secret, but he wasn’t surprised. He acted as if he had known for a long time, but it made no difference.

  Still, the undead version of Burt would retain his memories and could lead me to the fool who had ended his life. I longed to torture this man for interrupting my profits. I cast my undead creation spell at his burial site, but nothing happened. After several failed attempts, I dug up his grave, only to find that his body had decayed beyond recognition. All that remained were bits of bone, flexible like jelly and smelling of burnt hair.

  “Gah!” I scowled in frustration.

  But I would have my revenge someday! Jack always assured me that vengeance could always be achieved if one was willing to wait.

  So, I returned to work, helping Jack plan his assault on Oakvale. There were countless little details for me to handle. Jack always needed money for his... "projects." I, as usual, would deal with acquiring merchandise from the slaughtered villagers and selling it discreetly. Many towns and even bandit clans needed to buy discounted provisions. A small discount was a good way to keep customers from asking too many unwanted questions—a lesson learned from my friends in the black market. While they guaranteed no trouble would arise from their brokering, they charged a steep 40%. Bah! For 40 percent, I could risk some trouble. Not like Jack and I couldn't just kill whoever sought to arrest us.

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  I looked forward to torturing the Scarlet Robe hero and her young daughter. While the daughter seemed a little too young for my tastes, I could still settle for torturing Scarlet Robe and trying to break her with my spells. Maybe I could finally get mind control to work. It sends shivers down my spine!

  Our battle plan was perfect; the backwater town had only one guard. With one hero and a non-functioning cullis gate, we didn’t have to worry about reinforcements. A bunch of unarmed villagers and a single hero without a magical weapon? What could go wrong?

  Waiting forty yards back from our bandit force, I swatted at the gnats buzzing around my face. A few flew into my eye, causing me to look away just as our assault began. The bandits spotted Scarlet Robe and her hulking husband racing toward the front gate of Oakvale. A few arrows were fired, but they were effortlessly halted by an unseen force. Much to my dread, our assault was met with an instant counterattack. We hadn’t even killed one villager before a mysterious mage stepped in.

  The man was terrifying, with glowing eyes and a face made of darkness. He was clad in tattered gray robes, reminiscent of an ancient and all-powerful dark mage. Wielding a strange magician’s rod, he cast spells I had never seen before. He stopped Jack's most powerful attacks with his invisible barriers. As far as I knew, no spell existed that could block Jack’s "Hellblaze Strike." Its one downside was that it required a weapon capable of withstanding hellfire—a feat even the supposedly unbreakable enchanted weapons of the Old Kingdom couldn’t manage. You’d never believe the trouble I went through to track down that damned knife!

  The unknown mage battled Jack, remaining unfazed by his power. Impossible! What the hell was he? Just as I caught sight of an attractive girl in the trees, lost in a pleasant fantasy of her in chains, she released a volley of arrows at our force. She, too, wielded magic in this battle. Within moments, dozens of our force lay dead, and I scrambled to slow our losses by turning the fallen into undead minions. It helped, but not nearly enough against the fearsome reaper.

  Jack was also perfectly countered by his opponent, who slowly began gaining the upper hand. I had no directly offensive spells, and as our forces were depleted, that would be it. I didn’t even get to see the end of the battle as I fled from the bull-like, armored husband of Scarlet Robe, the arrow-shooting girl, and Scarlet herself.

  Lucky for me, they didn’t chase me too far. I retreated from the main paths around the village, veering off toward the coast. I could still see the village about 300 yards down from me as I made my way along a slanted path. I could easily find my way back to the main road once the coast was clear.

  Desperately searching for a good place to hide, I slipped into a patch of mud that reeked of fresh urine.

  “Curse these backwater bastards!” I muttered before I remembered I needed to remain quiet.

  Now, there was piss-soaked mud in my black hair and bangs.

  Focusing on the lingering battle, I could barely make out what was happening in the village. Both Jack and the mysterious dark mage appeared to be exhausted. Worse yet, the unknown mage was now joined by three heroes who had chased me away. Jack wouldn’t be happy I had abandoned him to fend for himself!

  The heroic Jack has been known to kill for less, and this could easily be perceived as a betrayal. I just valued my life. Why did these people have to come along, defend themselves, and ruin everything for me? Who gave them the right to fight back? They were nothing but common filth!

  If Jack spared me after this failure, I would have to invest in more offensive spells. He had suggested "Drain Life," but it hadn’t proven useful in this battle, so maybe I would try "Berserk." Then, I could take my anger out on my enemies, and someday, I would make those bitches my slaves!

  Finally, it appeared that Jack had the scary mage right where he wanted him. Jack was one strike away from victory, but in a shocking turn of events, the dark mage caught a frying pan and smashed it into Jack's masked face! Of all things, he hit him with a freaking frying pan! What the hell?!

  A massive pulse of Will energy exploded from my master, either from lost focus or trauma. I didn’t know why Jack’s mask was so important to him, but he rarely took it off, and when he did, he never left it behind. He almost never removed it to begin with.

  Surrounded, Master Jack chose to retreat through one of his portals. The unknown mage and most likely also a hero did not give chase, nor did the other heroes or Will users. I considered staying to spy and uncover the dark mage’s identity, but if I did, I would almost certainly be caught. Once caught, I would undoubtedly be executed, and then I would never have my revenge.

  So, I left in shame, but one day, I would be victorious

  What a waste!

  It gives me shivers!

  Jack won't be happy I left him to fend for himself!