A deathly chill enshrouded the silent forest while underneath its dense cover, the pungent scent of blood perated the air. The shouting is gone and the earth is damp with the essence of both victor and the defeated. A huge stone fortress, nestled partially into the body of the mountain, was blanketed by thick forestry that one would have to look twice to know it was there.
Soldiers in silver road the land beneath it, each blood-stained as a murderous air enveloped them. Fresh from the claws of battle, they silently collected their fallen comrades, every severed limb, every broken armor, while thick smoke billowed above them belonging to the nurous pits of fire, devouring the bodies of their enemies.
In the infested land of Corhan, one would think twice before making a sound or emitting even a wisp of mana into the air. Soldiers retreat, and people hide. However, this ti, they didn't care about the noises they made.
"Over here!"
One called.
"We got another one."
And another...
"The sll..."
And another...
Their armor shifted, stinging their ears. Although exhaustion had made their limbs weary and bones creak, they were determined to uphold their duties knowing this wasn't the last of their battles with the demons who fled and the malibreeds scrutinizing them hungrily within the darkness of the forest.
Thud!
A heavy sound spreads pausing the movents of soldiers nearby. Their attention shifted towards a large post made of heavy stone and blessed wood. A towering pillar with runes spiraling towards the top and standing three tis the size of a man is planted into the ground by five soldiers, all led by one arcan mage. A black cloth embroidered with silver, fluttered with the breeze, embellishing the familiar insignia of the Silver Scepter. And at the very top, a torch-like head, encasing a special artifact pulsing with power.
The n stopped, gazes burning with reverence. Many tis this totem, the Arcan Conduit, has saved their lives from the countless dangers of the journey. With it, no malibreed or demonic abomination dared to co near them. But their attention is brief. They still have a job to do...
A soldier in silver rushed towards a man overseeing the n working in the forest ground. He abruptly stopped with a salute. "Marshal!"
The man with a robust build and baggy eyes glanced at him. "The High Commander?"
"His Excellency is eting with the High Lord of Ralor. He informs to withdraw the inquisitors and that he shall deal with the prisoners himself."
The Marshal stopped. If it were His Excellency Lord Hadrian, interrogating them, then it would be the greatest revenge for their fallen soldiers. Even the ssenger could not help but show his satisfied expression. They hope these demonic bastards would beg for their lives and suffer.
…..
Unhurried steps echoed in the dark corridors of the dungeons, accompanied by a single soldier, a tall woman in a worn blue cloak walked with tired yet determined eyes.
Lady Klaria of Ralor bore an untouchable aura as her magic had yet to fade. Countless weeks of keeping the fortress barriers functional have left her mana and mind exhausted, and her body weakened. Her power's recovery couldn't even mask itself properly, left to emanate continuously from her skin like an irremovable scent.
'So these are from Moulin's faction.' She thought, scrutinizing the silver armor the soldier before her wore. Her attention drifted to the dangling wood-encased crystal artifact on the man's waist. It exuded sharp yet pure magic.
A pity she wasn't there to witness such a feat. But her people needed her most. She needs to stay and restore the settlent.
"My Lady." The soldier saluted before the dungeon entrance. "His excellency has already entered."
Lady Klaria nodded. With a loud creak, the door was opened. The air welcod her with the intense scent of blood.
It seems Lord Hercullio had already begun.
A chill went up her spine as she made her way past the lifeless cells. Expressionless, she ignored the wetness that clung to the end of her robe and the unmoving bodies in the darkness until she entered the spacious torture room.
The sight made her scalp tingle.
A bloodied body lay limp, shackled on a steel chair. Its head had dropped to the side, and blood and saliva trickled from its gaping mouth. Eyelids shook back, revealing a pair of black sclera.
He looked as good as dead if Klaria had to describe him. Veins underneath the humanoid creature's skin pulsed with a golden glow. Whatever it was doing made the demon's body spasm and twitch uncontrollably as though sothing was trying to work its way out of his body.
On his chest…. A palm-sized hole.
And the cause of all this torture was a certain lord standing silently.
From her perspective, it was difficult to determine which was the demon in the cell.
"You ca." Lord Hercullio did not turn his head. His bloodstained hand was raised, fingers grasping the end of what looked like a wet red feather, bits of flesh dripping off it. Only Klaria could see the wisps of potent energy, crackling in the air, surrounding his hand. The buzz of electrifying power made her falter.
It was different from before, purer, more treacherous…
"Have you finished already?" She managed to blurt out without taking her eyes away from his oppressive form.
A hint of bloodthirstiness filled his eyes as he lifted his gaze from the last of the prisoners. "They broke too easily."
Speechlessness caught her tongue. The shackled body kept twitching, undoubtedly, still alive.
Once she sensed Hadrian's aura had retreated slightly, she unhurriedly approached him. "Did they talk?"
"Among all of them, this one's not completely useless." The golden Lord remarked, flicking the blood off the damp feather before taking a handkerchief to wipe the stains off.
Golden eyes narrowed dangerously. "Puppets. The demon Uldher sent them to lurk near large settlents. It seems they are searching for sothing."
"Or soone…" Klaria whispered. "With the Arcan Conduits in action, their movents will be bound. They will grow restless…"
"Let them." His hand brought the feather closer to his gaze. mory flashed. A red demonic bird-like demon in Artheia, chasing down Moulin's slender figure. Suspicion crept carefully…
The demon Uldher was evidently a powerful puppet master. As rciless as his ways, his magic was equally brutal. It irked Hadrian how this demon managed to edge closer to Moulin than any other foe could dare. Physically and psychologically. Gaile, the elven prisoner, was also one of his instrunts.
"I will depart in three days." The Golden Lord declared. "I trust that wouldn't be an issue for you?"
It took Klaria a few seconds before she nodded. "The goods are ready and by then, my n will recover. Furthermore, with the Arcan Conduit and mages you have stationed here, overcoming the next raid will be a breeze."
She glanced at the wheezing demon behind him and continued, "As grateful I am with your presence, I didn't expect the Lynari's na would flourish so swiftly throughout my settlent. The Silver Scepter's loyalty to the Lynari and to the deity Morhas… is sothing to be envied."
With a sigh, she t those magnetic golden eyes once more. "And you, my lord… a heaven-defying force too powerful to trust. Forgive but your newly awakened abilities has terrified my council."
She couldn't erase the terrifying scene of the man vaquishing hundreds of demons and malibreeds with a single swing of his dark sword. It left a formidable scar upon the earth.
Hadrian's expression eased, amused by her honesty. His irises seed like a storm of electric gold, sizzling with an unspoken force. "What you fear is a gift from another. Do you find the Lynari's blessing too much for your people?"
His voice held a hint of amusent. If it wasn't for the ghastly setting, Klaria would have spared a smile.
"Not at all…" She spoke instead, eyes curving slightly.
…..
Slender fingers gently traced the lines of smooth calligraphy while its owner, with blank silver eyes, leaned back against the chair in a relaxed manner. Not far away from him, Ordan stood with his usual straight posture silently discerning Moulin's expression.
"If I knew they wouldn't cooperate quietly, I would've supervised the deciphering myself." The youth murmured with narrowed eyes.
"That would be difficult considering you must remain in the protective realm." Ordan spoke noticing the little crease on Moulin's smooth forehead.
It hasn't been two days since the Moulin had arranged the mages to coordinate with Jagra and Gaile with the task of deciphering the elf's cursed mory. It was quiet for a while, until Ghana secretly sent him a ssage one late night. These mages were too cautious, unable to talk properly with Gaile and perhaps, knowing Jagra had so history with the elf, they gave him the sa treatnt, although subtle.
Moulin sighed in frustration but he couldn't bla these mages. Demons have continuously ravaged the lands for years, ruthlessly taking lives while basking under the Kron's energy. However, there would still be people colluding with demons, making deals and spreading chaos.
Closing his eyes briefly, Moulin slowly took in a breath. His actions instantly transford, Ordan's calm expression.
"Are you alright?" He asked, approaching the ssy desk.
Moulin opened his eyes slightly, waving his hand. "I'm fine. Just… thinking."
"Perhaps, you should send another person to supervise them." Ordan suggested. His eyes glanced on the light, blanketing the crown of Moulin's head. "Tessley has been quite idle recently."
This ti Moulin looked at him, lifting one corner of his lip. "I know she's got her hands full with Ghana ordering her around."
Moulin sighed and raised his gaze to the ceiling. After settling these reports, he would need to attend Lady Celeste's and Lord Na'El's sessions, that would take about four hours. Lady Calanthe would be quite busy today so he would be free for the rest of the afternoon.
"What are you thinking about?" Ordan suddenly asked, sensing a strange foreboding.
Moulin lowered his gaze t his eyes, "Do you think I have learned enough under Calanthe's teachings?"
"…" Ordan furrowed his brows. "You've learned plenty than anyone here for the last few months."
A smiled shone on the youth's beauteous face. "I agree. And everyone knows the Lynari cannot leave his safety realm."
The knight's brows furrowed. "I don't like where this is going…"
Moulin abruptly stood up and patted the sentinel's shoulder. "Don't think too much. You just need to cover for . I'm telling you this so I won't have to resort to those ans again."
Like knocking out unconscious? Ordan worriedly looked at him. Sotis he wished Moulin's fiery spirit wouldn't resurface so frequently. He patted the place where the youth touched him.
…..
Creak!
The door opened, catching the attention of the people inside. Jagra slowly approached them, revealing a stiff smile towards the mages who only gave a nod. It was an early start in the evening.
The mages gathered around the table where a red runed stone was placed at the center.
"The runes are too aggressive. How about picking it apart one by one? We can divide the task individually." Kerien spoke.
Jagra glanced at the door before turning back. "I agree. Perhaps, Gaile possessed so insights that might benefit this study. Shouldn't we wait for him?"
The mages stared at him silently for a few seconds before one cleared his throat. "Yes, but we should be too reliant on his words. Lord Jagra, there is quite a difference in understanding between us and… him."
They weren't entirely indifferent towards him. However, Jagra could feel like he was being scolded. They were intentionally trying to create a rift between him and Gaile.
Jagra's dark eyes narrowed. No… he can't allow that to happen. Gaile is an irreplaceable variable to unraveling their enemy's secrets. So even if they couldn't trust him, atleast they should adhere to the Lynari's orders. Jagra glances towards the room at his left. 'Gaile should be inside resting'.
After being subjected to frequent spiritual examinations, the elf's mind has been in contant pain. Moreover, he was forced to answer to the mages questions right after each session. After translating the runed stone, it would be his turn to be examined.
Eyes trembling, Jagra pressed his lips together as he looked away. In the depths, sothing was tearing itself apart.
In a separate room, the rough stone walls are glazed with a bluished hue. Mana potently swam in the air surrounding the people within. During the process of deciphering the curse, they decided to individually pick apart each foreign rune. However, they weren't cast in any familiar arrangent and if one would try to touch them, it would unleash a terrifying energy, attacking everyone nearby. This made them certain that the information within must be extrely significant.
The curse's internal form was amplified, projecting throughout the room. The red glowing runes were suspended in the air like scattered twinkling stars, except they each held a daunting aura, making the mages nervous as they busied about around them. However, not a single one of them wanted to volunteer in disarming the curse's protective instinct.
"If you all don't mind, I shall try it." Jagra spoke approaching one rune.
"Wait!" The Kerien head mage inquirer stopped him in his tracks, feigning courage as she cleared her throat. "I'll do it first."
Before she could center her mana around her fingers, one of the mages stepped forward. "My Lady, you must use the numbing spell first as we had discussed."
"Ah yes..." The head inquirer nodded, recognizing the man as one of the Arcan mages the Arcan sector had sent. The numbing spell would help protect her from pain if the curse attempted to attack her flesh. Doing as she was told, she cleared her throat and proceeded.
Crackle!
The mont her finger touched the first rune a force as terrifying as lightning surrounded the man. Everyone took a step back form the oppressive aura. With clenched teeth, Kerien began to dissolve the protective seals of the runes. From the teachings of the arcan sector, she tried to convert the dark energy against itself.
The seal wavered giving the her a spark of hope. Even the eyes of those around her widened in realization!
It was working!
The more the disolution continued, the heavier the seal's retaliation. Before the seal could fully disolve, as a last attempt, it tried to burrow into the skin of its attacker. The head inquirer realized too late and felt the numbing spell shattering as corruption began to eat away her hand.
Shock spreads and panic insued as many tried to stop the process. Jagra, the nearest one, reached out to fling the head's arm away form the rune. But the mont his touch landed, the corruption latched unto him as well.
"!!!" Jagra's heart thundered loudly. He could remove his hand no matter how hard he tried!
A whirlpool of energy from the rune's attack spreads outward, triggering the rest of the runes' protective seal. At this rate, none of them would be spared from the onslaught of corruption!
Just then a hand fell on the back of Jagra's hand. Jagra and the Head inquisitor abruptly lifted their gazes and saw one of the Arcan mages infront of them.
"Calm down..." The man under the white veiled hood spoke. At the sa ti, a cooling sensation spreads from his hand.
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