The King Who Returned From Death

​"Open his chest, but he must remain conscious while you pull out his mana core." ​Isolde Blackthorne's voice sounded exceptionally cold in the underground execution room of the Ice Altar. The woman stood calmly holding a golden goblet filled with red wine, showing not a single shred of mercy. ​On the frozen table, Nikolai Vintergard was bound in thick iron chains. His bruised and battered body could not move in the slightest, while the stench of blood filled the damp, suffocating room. ​"Isolde... why are you being so cruel to me?" Nikolai whispered in a hoarse voice. ​His throat felt completely dry and burning, as if hot sand was clogging his airway. His saliva mixed with thick blood that occasionally dripped from the corner of his split lips. ​Isolde stepped closer. The sound of her shoe heels rang out loudly and echoed across the floor of the narrow room. ​She stared down at Nikolai with her sharp, empty black eyes. There was no longer any warmth or gentle look that she used to show when they were together inside the palace. ​"Because you are far too weak to lead Frostvein, Nikolai," Isolde answered casually. ​She tilted her head slightly, observing Nikolai's face that had been beaten black and blue by the executioners' blows since earlier this afternoon. ​"The Ather-Rift system needs a strong ruler, not a king who is overly kind like you," Isolde continued while running her fingertip along the rim of her golden goblet. ​"What did I do wrong? I led this kingdom with justice!" Nikolai shouted, trying to fight back, but his voice cracked and ended in a painful cough of blood. ​Fresh blood spurted out, drenching his chest and neck which were already filthy with dust and cold sweat. Isolde merely let out a soft laugh, a crisp sound that felt deeply agonizing to Nikolai's heart. ​"Justice will not grant us eternal magic power, Nikolai. What matters most is power. If you do not have that, you are useless." ​She turned her body slightly, then gave a hand signal to the two heavily built men behind her. ​Two burly executioners immediately stepped forward carrying an iron stake that was still glowing hot. The iron glowed red and radiated scorching heat that stung the skin of Nikolai's cheek from a few centimeters away. ​The heat from that iron felt in stark contrast to the bone chilling cold inside the Ice Altar of the City of Frostvein-Vaelen. ​"Begin torturing him from his left rib first," Isolde commanded without averting her gaze for a second from Nikolai's eyes. ​"Understood!" ​The first executioner raised a large wooden hammer, while the second executioner pressed the tip of the glowing hot iron stake directly against the left side of Nikolai's chest. ​The skin on Nikolai's chest burned instantly as the hot iron touched it. The foul stench of his own burning flesh reached his nose. ​Nikolai squeezed his eyes shut, trying to endure the pain that began to crawl through him, but his effort was entirely in vain. ​CRACK! ​"AAAGHHH!" ​Nikolai's hysterical scream echoed loudly through the thick, cold stone walls. ​The hot iron stake was forced in using the hammer, crushing his first rib without mercy. The flesh around the wound turned black and blistered immediately. ​Nikolai gripped the iron chains until his eyes bulged. The veins in his neck and hands protruded, straining as if ready to burst at any moment. ​The pain was so intense that his vision turned dark in an instant. His body convulsed on the table, creating a harsh clashing sound of rattling chains. ​"Hold him down, do not let him pass out!" one of the executioners said while pressing down on Nikolai's violently thrashing shoulders. ​"Use a nerve stimulating potion if he starts losing consciousness," Isolde added with an expressionless face. ​A soldier in the corner of the room quickly approached and poured a clear liquid over the burn wound on Nikolai's chest. ​"AARRGGHH! STOP IT!" Nikolai roared even harder. ​The liquid felt like thousands of poisonous needles being plunged simultaneously into his chest nerves. The pain was ten times more horrific than the hammer blow earlier. ​Isolde observed every movement of Nikolai's tortured body with a satisfied gaze. She stepped forward, lowering her body until her face was right beside Nikolai's ear. ​"Do not forget this pain, Nikolai. This might be my last gift for the wonderful times we once spent together." ​"You... you demon woman, Isolde..." Nikolai cursed with ragged breaths. ​CRACK! ​Another rib was forcibly broken by the blow of the executioner's hammer. The sound of cracking bone echoed clearly inside the silent room. ​"Argh! Bastard! It hurts so much!" ​Tears mixed with blood flowed heavily down the cheeks of the king who was once deeply respected by all the people of the empire. ​"Take it slow, there is no need to rush," Isolde interrupted while sipping her wine slowly from the golden goblet. ​She enjoyed the sight before her as if watching a deeply fascinating performance. ​"I want to relish every second of the fall of this grand king of Frostvein." ​The torture continued without pause. One by one, iron stakes were hammered into Nikolai's chest, breaking his right and left ribs alternately. ​"Bastard! You damn woman!" ​Every time the hot iron went deeper, Nikolai felt extraordinary agony that was ready to take his life right then and there. ​The cold from the underground stone floor of the City of Frostvein-Vaelen was completely unable to lessen the burning sensation inside his chest. ​This Ancient Ather-Rift Era stood as a silent witness to the cruelest betrayal in the history of the kingdom. ​Nikolai had never imagined that the woman he loved the most, the woman who promised to stand beside him on the stage of power, was the person leading this torture. ​"Why, Isolde? I gave you everything... wealth, power, even my heart," Nikolai whispered in a tone of profound disappointment. ​Isolde stood tall again, looking down at Nikolai with a disdainful glare. ​"Your heart is worthless compared to the pure mana core inside your body, Nikolai. Just by having your mana core, I can open the ancient magic gate and conquer this entire continent." ​"You will never be able to control it... that power will destroy you!" Nikolai shouted hoarsely. ​"Want to bet? We shall see later who will be destroyed," Isolde answered coldly. ​"Now, for the most important part," Isolde whispered while placing her empty golden goblet on a small table beside her. ​The lead executioner nodded in understanding. He took a double-edged scalpel enchanted with dark magic from inside a wooden box. ​The knife radiated a dense, dark reddish aura and smelled foul. Without a moment of hesitation, the executioner plunged the tip of the knife directly into the center of Nikolai's chest. ​SLRRPT! ​Nikolai's chest was sliced open from his neck down to his abdomen. The magic knife cut through skin and muscle tissue as easily as slicing wet cloth. ​"Argh! Damn it, I cannot take it!" ​Fresh blood immediately gushed out heavily, drenching the executioner's face and flooding the ice floor beneath the execution table. ​"P-please... Isolde... just kill me now," rage and pain united in Nikolai's groans which grew weaker and weaker. ​His vision began to blur, the red color of blood and the outline of Isolde's face becoming the last things he could see clearly. ​"Granting you mercy would be pointless. Mercy will not give me the throne and your magic power, Nikolai," Isolde replied without pity. ​The executioner's hand, clad in a thick leather glove, reached inside Nikolai's wide open chest cavity. The hand groped through the king's internal organs, searching for the mana core. ​The sound of friction between the leather glove and Nikolai's internal organs sounded horrific in the quiet room. ​"Here it is! Found it, My Lady!" the executioner shouted in an excited tone. ​The executioner's fingers grabbed Nikolai's mana core roughly. The core was shaped like a faintly glowing blue crystal embedded right beside his heart. ​Nikolai jolted in shock, his eyes bulging to the absolute limit from a pain that human reason could no longer comprehend. ​The pain when the mana core was touched was far more agonizing than when his ribs were broken one by one. ​"Pull it out now!" Isolde ordered in a voice full of triumph and greed. ​STRIP! ​The mana core was forcibly ripped away from the nerve roots of Nikolai's heart. The magic nerve roots attached to the core snapped roughly one by one. ​A light of pure blue soared high into the air of the room, illuminating the entire dark execution room before finally transferring into Isolde's special magic vessel. ​Nikolai's breathing stopped instantly the moment his mana core was fully detached. His chest, which now bore a gaping, ruined hole, no longer moved up and down. ​Thick blood continued to pool on the stone table, dripping heavily onto the floor. Nikolai Vintergard had died at the hands of the woman he trusted most. ​Isolde smiled faintly looking at the corpse of the man who had once promised to cherish her forever lying lifeless. ​She smoothed her slightly dusty black dress, then turned around intending to leave the room that was now filled with the stench of fresh blood. ​"Good. I no longer have any use for you, Nikolai. Throw this rotting corpse into the ice chasm outside the city," Isolde said to the guards standing near the door. "Let the wild monsters eat his remaining flesh." ​"Yes, Lady Isolde!" the soldiers answered in unison while bowing respectfully. ​However, right before Isolde could step out through the open iron door, one of the executioners suddenly shouted in panic from behind the execution table. ​"Lady Isolde, look at this! Why is the wound on his chest emitting a strange black light?!"