ANATHEMA

CHAPTER 1

In bygone times, peace reigned throughout the kingdom. The thaumaturgist and the common folks lived in order and harmony. However, an alarming phenomenon unfolded when individuals began perishing under mysterious circumstances without exhibiting any prior signs of illness. Initially, the death toll was modest, but as time passed, the situation escalated dramatically with a multitude succumbing to the same enigmatic fate. It was later discovered that a cult of dark magician was behind the deaths called the dark thaumaturgist.

War transpired between the Citadel of Nazatuk and the dark thaumaturgist. Many people had died that day. However, the leaders of the dark thaumaturgist had survived and escaped without a trace—or so it was believed, until the disconcerting revelation that these survivors had passed on their dark ways to their offspring, thereby engendering a new generation of dark thaumaturgist. Subsequently, these heirs resorted to concealing their identities and dwell amongst ordinary folk in a bid to avoid getting caught and ensure their survival.

Soon enough a decree was declared by the King, stating that whoever uses dark magic or any kind of magic in different form will be exterminated. A group called the Fowlers was formed on that day: a team of elite hunters dedicated to exterminating dark thaumaturgist. They will not cease until the kingdom's pests still exist. Over the years, the mysterious ill—which has already given a name. Strexious, has often occurred, but the General of the Fowlers has oath to insure that he will not let history repeat itself.

In the depths of the forest of Nazatuk, a man was being chased by the Fowlers. As night was approaching he ran for his life. He glanced over his shoulder to ensure no one was following him. After confirming he was alone, he stopped, bent his knees, and struggled to catch his breath while laughing at the Fowlers who couldn't keep up with him.

"You might think you're fortuitous." The man stopped laughing and immediately gazed at the person in front of him, his eyes widened. When did he get here? Despite trembling, he tried to escape. However, the man move with great speed and still caught him. The next thing he knew, the man cut off his left leg, causing him to fall to the ground and shriek in great torment.

"No, no," he screamed. Despite the pain, he was determined to get away. He crawled desperately, but to no avail. The man walked towards him and stepped on his hand. He screamed and pleaded.

"Please spare me—" When he finally got the chance to see the man's face, his body became cold. He was horrified to see who was in front of him: The King's second hand, the most powerful man in the kingdom, even the king himself only listens to him, and the leader of the fowlers, Vasileios.

"Spare you? I might spare you if you tell me where the others are." Shiver runs down his spine when he heard General Vasileios's cold voice. He closes his eyes and imagines the worst fate he would face at the hand of the most dangerous man in the kingdom. He is sure that General Vasileios would still kill him even if he betrayed the others.

"Never!" he exclaims. Vasileios puts force on his foot, crushing the bones in his fingers. He screams in agony.

"General," his men arrive. They stare at the dark magician who is now suffering in pain.

"Take him to Gehenna," he coldly says.

"Yes, General," they bow at him and take the feeble dark magician.

"NO, PLEASE NO! I BEG OF YOU!"

"General, you just came back from the trip, you should rest first and leave the interrogation to me." Vasileios wiped his sword clean.

"There is no time to rest, this dark thaumaturgist doesn't know how to rest either."

"But General, it is only one dark thaumaturgist he could not possibly flee in our grasp. I would make sure to torment him until he confess." Napoleon was determined to please the General since he made a mistake on his mission just recently.