Kael and the Necromancer (2/5)

"Ugh…"

Kael groaned as the weight of the shackles lifted from his wrists.

His limbs ached, and his mana core shattered, leaving a hollow emptiness within him where magic once flowed. He barely had the strength to push himself up into a seated position, but every inch of his body screamed in protest.

Before him stood the Necromancer—the same woman who had violated his core, bound him, and nearly ended his life. Her silver eyes remained impassive as she stepped back, allowing him a moment to breathe.

Kael's gaze flickered toward her warily, his mind racing. The hatred, the rage—he could feel it simmering beneath the surface. Yet, she simply folded her arms, watching him with detached amusement.

"Sit now," she ordered. "We don't have time for your nonsense."

Kael narrowed his eyes, his fists clenching weakly. "You expect me to believe you want to help me now?" His voice was hoarse, raw from pain and exhaustion.