A Path Of Bone And Poison - Chapter 71 Dark Origins

There was an open path to the inside of the castle, the large draw bridge was open. None of the Ghouls dared to approach the gate. It was as if a deeply instilled instinct told them to stay away. This meant that the most dangerous place for us to be, was also temporarily the safest.

When we entered the castle I could feel a stirring in my soul. My library opened on it’s own, displaying an open book written in an ancient language that I should not understand.

This words seemed to be written in blood, and as they were slowly absorbed by my mind I reached an enlightened state. I collapsed right there. My body not functioning in the way that it should as the strange words began to radiate in my mind.

The words told me the story of a young man, a young man who had an incredibly rareand fatal disease. The young man was born crippled. His body betrayed him, attacking itself and was slowly killing him.

The boy had a strong mind, and despite his crippled body he began to study the art of magic. Only in his great hunger for all the knowledge magic mad to offer kept him going from day to say.

Unfortunately, The year before he turned 18 his body got worse. His illness progressed, crippling his legs, not allowing him to move from the waist down.

An ordinary child would have been disheartened. And he most certainly was. His mind became dark and twisted. He became obsessed with the thought of riding himself of this cursed body.

He moved with the help of a wheelchair. Traveling up and down the spire of magic. He searched for months, reading every book on magic he could find. Until eventually he found it.

The book described the ancient art of necromancy. An art forbidden by the side of light, at least the most essential parts. But he did not mind. If the side of light could not help him then he would turn to the side of Dark.

He had no loyalty to the light. He had no connections. The light had never given him an ounce of mercy.

The art of necromancy required sacrifice. It required one to pledge their bet soul to the dark in the most brutal of ways.

He relished the chance. He yearned for it. His conciouse had long since stopped it’s annoying whispers. The greater the sacrifice he gave to the Dark gods the greater his gifts.

He used all of his connections, he used sympathy he recieved because of his weakness. He used every cruel and under handed means he could come up with. Eventually He had collected enough.

Enough of what you ask? The gifted infants of those blessed by the gods of light. He had gathered 13 of these blessed children. Using all of them as a sacrifice for his own dark blessing.

The dark gods were extremely eased with his sacrifice. They greedily absorbed the latent power of the blessings, leaving to the boy only a fraction of the total collected power.

But it was enough. The boy could feel the power inside him swelling, but at the same time his crippled body began to dissolve under the immense amount of unholy power.

His crippled body turned into ash, leaving his spirit floating alone in the dark. A system appeared before him, one similar to the one of the light, but its power was much darker.

For his power he was given the chance to inhabit a new body, but there was only a single option available. The creature was the lowest of the intelligent creatures. A creature more beast than man. A creature that was dedicated to the dark.

The creature was a goblin. The boy selected the body with glee. It might be the lowest of intelligent creatures, but it was a creature with a workable body. With this he could finally study his magic in piece.

Fate was not so kind however, and power always has a price. The dark gods granted him a body, and even the rare class of necromancer. He would be a master of the arts of death. Everything would be in his power. But he was also cursed to always remain in that body. Cursed to never evolve. Cursed to live a life as an undead Goblin.

He had lost his sense of taste. He had lost his ability to reproduce. He had lost his sense of feeling. Emotions became only a memory. Except one. He had an intense hunger. A hunger that would never be satisfied.

He would no longer have a chance of being accepted by the light. Those who served the light would hunt him on sight. Only by growing stronger would he be able to find his own corner of this world.

His first action was to slaughter the Goblins around him. He raised the strongest as his undead warriors. He would build himself an army.

Again fate did not let him have his way. He recieved a curse from the goblin Demi-God for his actions against his race. He was never again allowed in the sun, and must feed on the blood of the living.

He had been cursed with vampirism, successfully becoming the first of his kind. He was cursed to wander alone in the dark, feeding on the living that were unfortunate enough to encounter him.