Chapter 215: The Door
[Solren Kingdom – Ashwick]
Ashwick was one of the many towns located near the capital. It was an ordinary town with nothing particularly attractive for passing adventurers, aside from the forest nearby.
It was one of the many towns that had been struck by the assault of corrupted beasts and Hollows, and just like all the others, it now found itself in a desperate situation, forced to call for aid from the capital and hold out until reinforcements arrived.
The forest near Ashwick was quiet, save for the agonized gurgling of a beast collapsing into the underbrush.
It was a Ridgeback Wyrmhound, easily high-rank among the corrupted fauna that had grown increasingly aggressive near the smaller settlements, thick, scaled hide, a maw full of serrated teeth, the kind of creature capable of wiping out a patrol of low-rank soldiers without much effort.
It lay on the ground now, still alive, still shaking with spasms, in a spreading pool of black fluid, forced to endure the atrocious pain of the lethal wound dealt to its chest by its opponent, who had decided the beast would suffer a little before dying.
The man in question casually wiped his blade against a patch of moss, without a hint of urgency, as though he had just crushed a fly rather than taken down something capable of tearing a house apart.
Nearby, perched on a low branch with his legs dangling and swinging like a bored child’s, his companion watched with a faint, crooked smile that never seemed to reach his eyes.
"Why bother killing it?" the one on the branch asked, tilting his head. "That thing wasn’t even in our way."
The swordsman sheathed his blade and looked up at him.
"Since we have to wait anyway, figured I’d contribute to humanity a little. A little good karma never hurts," He said.
Anyone who overheard it might have genuinely mistaken it for a noble gesture.
But anyone who knew who these two were would have found those words utterly ridiculous.
After all, the two men in question were members of BloodMoon, one of the highest-tier criminal organizations operating in the Solren Kingdom, the kind of people who, for the right price, would burn an entire city of innocents to the ground without losing a night’s sleep over it.
Anyone who genuinely believed they did anything for humanity clearly wasn’t right in the head.
The one in the tree let out a short laugh, swinging his legs faster, growing restless.
"Hmm, I see. A truly noble gesture, no doubt about it. But I don’t get it, why are we just sitting here doing nothing when we could already be moving?" His voice was confused, and clearly impatient, as if he couldn’t wait to get to work.
"No rush. The target will reach the city soon enough. Acting now would just complicate things needlessly, especially since we might not need to act at all. We just wait here, and the prey will come straight to us," the swordsman said simply, settling down against the trunk of a nearby tree, arms folded behind his head.
His companion, still perched on the branch, tilted his head at those words, as if he didn’t quite understand what he meant.
"You sound pretty confident. What makes you think she’ll come this way instead of staying in the city?" he asked, calmer now, apparently satisfied enough by curiosity.
"She will. Don’t worry, I’ve already thought about that, so make yourself comfortable and wait,"
The swordsman said this as he closed his eyes, seemingly preparing to rest.
His companion looked at him for a moment and said nothing.
Then he turned his gaze toward another part of the forest, his eyes settling on a few figures, human in shape, walking toward the city, their appearances rough, clearly having just come out of some kind of battle.
A smile appeared on his face, almost carefree were it not for the unsettling quality behind it, as he stood up from the branch.
"Oh well, guess I’ll go rack up some good karma too," he said, and without a second’s hesitation he vanished from his spot, leaving the swordsman behind, who didn’t so much as spare him a glance as he walked away.
***
Meanwhile, in the Lost City of the Dead...
Elena’s group, having had to endure the weight of several waves of emotion in an incredibly short span of time, finally got a moment to catch their breath as they all descended a spiral staircase leading downward.
They were with Seraphine and the strange girl they’d met earlier, the same one who had nearly knocked them unconscious with a single look, not long ago.
Throughout the entire time, they had remained quiet and kept to themselves, both during the conversation earlier and now. It wasn’t because they had nothing to say, but because they simply didn’t dare to say anything.
Although the girl’s sweet appearance had erased some of the terror they had felt when they first saw her in that strange form made of violet mist, she still radiated an oppressive presence that seemed to be a natural effect of her existence.
They could tell she wasn’t actively trying to intimidate them. It was simply the kind of presence that beings at her level naturally possessed, which only kept them more on edge as they went along with whatever the two women were trying to accomplish.
Of the three of them, Elena was the most curious. She had followed without asking questions, wanting nothing more than to get out of this cursed place and go home, but in the short time they’d spent interacting with the woman leading them, she couldn’t help but form plenty of questions about who she actually was.
’Just who the hell is this woman,’ she thought, remembering how effortlessly she’d brought them into the city without anyone dying, or how she’d spoken to that girl who was anything but harmless.
And then there was that cryptic conversation the two of them had had, most of what was said had been incomprehensible without more context, but whatever it was, it clearly wasn’t trivial, especially since it all seemed to circle back to that strange cocoon they’d seen at the far end of the hall, one that filled her with an inexplicable sense of dread, and, oddly, familiarity.
Not toward her personally, but toward her main element. All of it scratched at her curiosity, a curiosity she couldn’t wait to satisfy. And she didn’t have to wait long for that, because after several minutes of descending, they finally reached the bottom of the staircase.
What stood before them was a massive black door, made of dark metal of an unknown origin.
The girl leading the group stepped forward, approaching the door. Once there, she raised her hand.
"If I were you, I’d brace yourselves," she said, and without offering any further explanation, her hand glowed with a dark, almost black violet light. She pressed it against the surface of the door.
The instant it made contact, the entire space around them seemed to vibrate, right before several sigils began glowing violet across the massive door.