But if it led to a public confrontation where he had to explain why he was killing the village's most promising young talent, everything he had worked for would be destroyed in an instant.
"Even if you kill me," Kael added, his voice carrying absolute certainty, "Aren knows what we saw. How long do you think it'll take him to piece together what happened to me?"
Arthur's jaw clenched, the ice around him growing more chaotic as his control wavered.
"And then there's the matter of the necromancers themselves," Kael continued mercilessly.
"Without their base at Henrik's shop, without their planned harvest of village talent, how patient do you think they'll be with a collaborator who can't deliver what he promised? Lady Olivia didn't sound like the forgiving type."
The temperature around Arthur began to fluctuate wildly. He knew Kael was right—the boy was well capable of waking the others, and those others were more than capable of killing him. Alaric, the other former soldiers... they would tear him apart once they learned the truth.
More troubling still, he knew that the necromancers and Lady Olivia weren't going to help him. Their relationship was purely business—they got experimental specimens, he got his breakthrough to Master Knight.
It wasn't like they would blow their cover and rush to save him if things went sideways. They would probably just disappear into the night and find another village, another collaborator.
I have to think of something, Arthur thought desperately, his mana continuing to fluctuate wildly as panic set in.
The ice around him began to melt and refreeze erratically, creating puddles of water that would suddenly crystallize again.
"Let's make a deal," Arthur said finally, his voice carrying the desperation he was trying to hide.
Kael tilted his head slightly, a smile playing on his lips. "I'm listening."
Arthur's mind raced through possible offers. What could he give that would be valuable enough to buy Kael's silence? Money? Position? Access to training resources?
But as he looked at the young man before him—someone who had just awakened purple-level talent and this mysterious energy swirling around him—traditional rewards seemed inadequate.
Then desperation gave him an idea that would have horrified his younger, more idealistic self.
"Tell me," Arthur said, his voice taking on a begging tone, "do you want any woman in this village? Anyone at all? I can bring her to you. Or anything else you wish for—position, wealth, training, resources. Name your price."
Kael was quiet for a moment, seeming to consider the proposition seriously. Then, with that same unsettling calm he had maintained throughout their conversation, he spoke.
"I do have a woman that I like."
Arthur's eyes lit up with hope. Finally, leverage he could work with. "Who? Eva? One of the other young women? I can arrange—"
"Seraphina," Kael said simply.
The name hit Arthur like a physical blow. His mana flickered wildly, ice crystals around him shattering completely as shock and rage warred within him.
"What?" he gasped, his voice barely audible.
"Your wife," Kael clarified, as if discussing the weather. "Seraphina. She's quite... striking. Intelligent too, from what I can tell."
Arthur's face went through a rapid series of expressions—shock, disbelief, rage, and finally a kind of sick understanding. The boy had turned his own desperate offer back on him in the most personal way possible.
"You... you can't be serious," Arthur stammered.
"Why not?" Kael asked with that predatory smile. "You just offered me any woman in the village. She's in the village."
Arthur's hands began to tremble, though whether from cold or fury was unclear. "She's my wife!"
"Yes, I know and she just happens to be one of the woman of the village," Kael replied smoothly.
The psychological warfare was devastating. Arthur had opened this negotiation from a position he thought was strength, offering corruption and temptation. Instead, he found himself confronted with a young man who seemed to understand power dynamics better than he did.
"You... you can't be serious," Arthur stammered.
"Why?" Kael asked, tilting his head with genuine curiosity. "Can't bring yourself to do that? You're killing many innocents for your power, but it seems you can't even bring yourself to sell your wife."
The words hit Arthur like daggers, each one precisely aimed at his hypocrisy.
"It seems," Kael continued, "your dream of breaking through is not as strong as you claim. You'll sacrifice Henrik, random villagers, children even—but your own wife? That's where you draw the line?"
Arthur's hands clenched into fists, his face twisting with anger and helplessness. "It's... it's different."
"How?" Kael pressed mercilessly. "Because she's yours? Because you have feelings for her? But I thought you said the strong take what they need from the weak, that personal attachments were weaknesses for the mediocre?"
The philosophical weapons Arthur had tried to use earlier were now being turned against him.
"She's not... she's not a resource," Arthur said weakly.
His internal war was visible on his face. Everything Kael was saying made horrible sense. He had already crossed the line of treating people as resources to be consumed. And this was nothing different as well.
"The necromancers won't wait forever," Kael added quietly. "And if you can't deliver what you promised, how long before they decide you're more valuable as an experimental subject than as a partner?"