"What's going on? I've never seen you so scared," a young soldier confronted him, seeing eyes opening wide and his chi quivering in sparks that burst forth throughout the air.

He did not answer. There was not a single person on the five elemental schools that did not know the meaning of that black chi: the eternal sign of a necromancer, an earthly anomaly. Even mere peasants and those who worked in the mines or as servants knew the crime of even daring to speak on the possible existence of such abominations.

It took a few seconds before the soldier broke the silence again, "Look at that girl! How is she doing that?" He asked, even though he knew that nobody would have an answer. His voice trembled and his sword lost the sparkling color that moments before had taken the lives of Bardolph and his wife.

The darkness was a curse. It was what was shared, between whispers and whistles, beyond the edge of the forest that proceeded the village. Crows rattled on the few rooftops that were not burning and, on the scarecrows, away from the bustle. The girl's eyes changed color. The brown had darkened and swallowed the white until both eyes were no more than two abysses. She was no longer her. She had surrendered herself to the power that was emerging and running throughout her body. A black flame of which she was ignorant of until then.

After all, the poor girl had grown up thinking that she had not been blessed with the gift of taming the mana so always present in the environment. And yet, now that the thirst for revenge merged with the fear of dying, she could finally feel it. The result was a ridiculous explosion of chi that ravaged the entire path surrounding her. Blasts of wind blew from the horizon and waves of dust crashed into the soldiers' bodies and onto what remained of the houses. Most of the fires had settled down, a few evaporating altogether. The white sky was shut. The girl's chi now mingled with the mana around her and led to pitch dark clouds.

"This has got to be a joke! No child has this power and all necromancers were burned eighteen years ago. Damn it. Men, get ready! Focus all your chi on the next attack. We can't let her walk away. You heard me," the commander shouted, also surprised and frightened by the sight unfolding in front of him.

How could such a slender girl release so much power? The control she seemed to have of mana and chi was only comparable to a Level 2 in terms of raw power. Even him, captain of a military unit with more than twenty years of experience, a white beard stained with the blood of hundreds, a tattooed body, each black stroke highlighting a death, was nothing more than a mere Level 3. He could call a portion of the mana that hovered above and fuse it with his weapon, but that was it. He could not use it to improve his human abilities or even have special attacks, nothing that the great cultivators, those who practiced the martial and mystical arts, could achieve. He wasn't even close to reaching them. He didn't have the spiritual roots or the innate talent for that. Even his body and mind daily workout could only take him to a certain point.

The anger grew within him. How could a poor child wearing tattered clothes and torn sandals dare to face them? It was a lack of respect that had to be mended and disciplined with the harshest of punishments: death.

His men were all well-armed: the armor that protected their bodies shone no more, but red flooded their eyes. There were swords, bows, spears, sabers, and even shields wrapped in orange flames, some hot as the inside of a waking volcano and others weaker, almost translucent. The soldiers were forced to stand still despite their doubts. The punishment of refusing or failing to obey the orders of a commander was one hundred lashes in front of their families. No one dared to move.

It was still daytime, but the night had already started to set. Blood ran down the beaten earth. Most of the houses had already burned down. The sparks and ashes filled the sky like bright, luminous stars. The smoke blurred the soldiers' sight, acting as a curtain between them and the girl.

"Ah, commander," one of the younger soldiers began, hesitating to continue before obtaining permission.

"Speak!"

"A few soldiers are afraid... No one's ever seen a necromancer. They only heard the legends..."

"Fear? Fear?! We're from the Kaji School. We're not afraid of anything or anyone. We're the ones who bring fear to other people's homes. Warn them that if I see them hesitating even for a split second, they might as well run away because I'll rip their heads off before we head back to our city," the commander shouted.

Truth be told, he too, was afraid. The legends were clear; necromancers could not only use dead people as slaves but could also drain the mana around them.

The commander, Len Liu of his name, had participated in several battles between schools. He had seen what levels two and even some levels one could do. The megalomaniac creations that could alter the fate of a battle within seconds. Fire dragons, stone walls, ice arrows that vanished on the west only to emerge on the east, and even the thunderstorms that ran across the battlefield, destroying everything in its path and fulminating hundreds of soldiers at once. But he had never seen or felt such dark energy, such depravity.

"This is it! I'm going to count to three and we're going to go. No mercy!" He screamed. His family awaited him and he knew he couldn’t live with himself if he ran from a battle. There was no turning back now.