Standing before the altar, the mories of my death, the first attempt of entering the atlar—of the decay spreading through my arm and seizing the last of my strength—still clung to my mind like a dark haze.
Yet, here I was, once again, at the altar. My body felt whole again, and the searing agony was gone, but the weight of what had happened lingered.
It was as if ti had reset itself.
The towering structure pulsed ominously, its runes glowing in a deep, almost hypnotic rhythm.
The energy radiating from the altar was palpable, thick in the air like a suffocating fog. I could feel it resonating with sothing ancient, sothing dangerous.
My instincts scread at to keep my distance, but this was where the path led. Where it always led.
I glanced around, my mask hiding any flicker of emotion that might betray . I was still "Dravis", clad in the assassin's garb—anonymity preserved beneath the hood and shadows.
It was better this way. There was no need for them to know as Draven anyway.
Lyan, standing a few feet away, broke the silence, his voice low and cautious, uttering the line that I've heard before.
"This... I've never seen anything like this before." His words echoed the sa unease I felt, though he did well to mask it behind his usual stoicism. Lyan wasn't one to show hesitation, but I knew better.
I could hear the trepidation beneath his words.
I sighed quietly, my breath barely audible beneath the hood.
I had died here before, hadn't I?
My body decayed from the inside, the poison spreading slowly and without rcy.
The pain, dulled by my [Herculean Physique], hadn't registered until it was too late.
Perhaps I had grown numb to it, thinking I could push through, but when I lost my left hand, the realization set in. It had been too late.
And then I died.
But now... now I was back.
According to my mory about the [Quest], returning from dying usually make return to the very first place I was summoned, which is at the demonic castle where I first arrive together the blonde princess, Anastasia.
But it seems I'm back here when we've arrived at the atlar.
Was this a checkpoint?
But the [Quest] sure is a twisted curse forcing to repeat this mont.
I could feel the weight of it settling in—an endless loop of death and rebirth, of fighting and failing.
For a brief mont, the thought flickered in my mind.
Could I escape it?
Would I be forced to endure this over and over again until I broke?
After dying again, I rember again.
Death is painful.
No matter how many tis you die, death is painful.
Not the pain of getting stabbed, losing an arm, or decaying from inside.
But the mont your soul gets peeled out of each part of your body.
Ever second felt like a single year as mories floods in.
It's a kind of tornt that could make you slowly lose yourself, and break your soul.
I glanced at Aurelia, watching her from the corner of my eye.
There was no sign of recognition, no flicker of awareness that we had done this before.
Her once platinum blonde that soaked in her mana and turned fiery red hair glead in the dim light of the altar, framing her beautiful but dangerous face.
She stood, arms crossed, tapping her foot impatiently. Impulsive as always.
But that was Aurelia—bold, brash, and brilliant.
She showed no signs of rembering.
That was good.
It ant that whatever curse or reset was happening, it hadn't affected her.
"Looks like it's just , then," I muttered under my breath.
Then it's clear.
The only one that should die.
Is .
The Queen should not die, and rember death.
"Dravis, what are you mumbling about now?" Aurelia's sharp voice cut through the silence, and she shot an annoyed look.
"If you have sothing to say, just spit it out."
I glanced at her, my mask hiding the hint of amusent tugging at the corner of my mouth.
"Nothing. Just considering our options."
She snorted, rolling her eyes.
"Oh please, don't start with the boring 'strategizing' again. This thing is clearly evil. Let's just burn it and move on." Her hands lit up with golden flas, ready to obliterate the altar before we could even think twice. Explore more at empire
"Wait." I grabbed her wrist before she could unleash her magic. Her flas flickered for a mont, but she paused, glaring at with a look that could incinerate a lesser man.
"Don't tell you're scared of this thing, Dravis," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
"I thought you were supposed to be the cold, fearless one."
"Scared? No," I replied coolly, my grip on her wrist firm but steady.
"Cautious? Yes." I released her hand, and her flas dimd slightly, though her frustration was still palpable.
"If we destroy it without knowing what we're dealing with, we could make things worse. There's a chance it might summon sothing far worse than what we're prepared for."
Aurelia narrowed her eyes, her fingers still twitching as if longing to set the altar ablaze.
"You're such a boring bastard, you know that?"
"Yes," I said simply, not bothering to argue.
Anastasia, who had been watching the exchange silently, stepped forward, her dark eyes reflecting the eerie glow of the altar.
"Dravis is right," she said, her voice soft but firm. "This altar is more than just a structure. I can feel the magic radiating from it—it's connected to sothing far deeper. Destroying it might release whatever power it's holding back."
Aurelia groaned, clearly unhappy but unwilling to argue further. She stepped back, crossing her arms and muttering sothing under her breath that I didn't bother catching. Lyan, still analyzing the altar, finally looked up. His eyes were sharp, his tone thoughtful.
"This is... linked to the summoning of sothing related to Tiamat,"
I felt a flicker of interest at his words. So, he had figured out that much. The fact that Lyan recognized the connection ant we were dealing with sothing far more dangerous than I had anticipated. It's not surprising that when we tried to harm the altar, The Three Great Demons of Tiamat appeared and they were no simple foes, and their summoning would bring untold destruction.
If we weren't careful, this could spiral out of control fast.
"Which ans," I said, stepping closer to the altar, "any rash action could bring them forth."
Lyan nodded, his usual confidence replaced by an uncharacteristic caution. "Exactly. If we make the wrong move, we could be facing sothing we're not prepared for."
Aurelia, still irritated, threw her hands up in defeat. "Fine, fine. No fire. No explosions. We'll do it your way, boring bastard."
"Good." I turned my attention back to the altar, my mind already calculating the next steps. "We'll approach this with caution. Stealth is our best option. Lyan, your illusions. Anastasia, use your shadow magic to conceal our movents."
The two nodded, already preparing to act. Aurelia stayed close behind , still grumbling but obedient. She knew I was right, even if she hated admitting it.
We moved quietly, the air around us shifting as Anastasia's shadows cloaked us in darkness. Lyan's illusions swirled through the air, confusing any potential threats. I led the way, every step calculated, every movent precise. The altar lood ahead, its dark energy pulsing with a rhythm that seed almost... alive.
As we moved closer, strange inscriptions began to appear along the base of the altar. The symbols were unlike anything I had seen before—ancient, twisted runes that pulsed with a dark energy. I studied them closely, my mind racing to decipher their aning.
Lyan, his eyes scanning the runes, spoke softly. "These inscriptions... they're not just for summoning. This altar is a beacon. It's calling out to sothing."
"A beacon?" Aurelia asked, her irritation replaced by curiosity. "For what?"
Lyan's face darkened. "The Abyss. I don't know exactly what will respond to its call, but if it's connected to the Abyss, it can't be good."
Anastasia stepped forward, her expression thoughtful as she studied the runes. "If I'm not mistaken, The Abyss is chaos incarnate. The monsters that dwell there are beyond anything we've faced before, and the Abyss Borns that we fought before are supposed to be one of the weakest. If the beacon reaches them..."
She didn't finish the sentence, but the implication was clear. Whatever was in the Abyss, we weren't ready to face it.
I nodded slowly, my mind piecing the puzzle together. "We need to stop this beacon before it triggers a full-scale summoning. But first, we need to figure out how to disable it without triggering a backlash."
Aurelia, still staring at the altar, suddenly spoke up. "Wait. Look at that symbol, near the center. Doesn't it resemble the mark of Tiamat's priests?"
We all turned to where she was pointing, and realization dawned. She was right. It was subtle, but the mark was there—hidden within the runes.
"Of course," I muttered, my mind racing. "It's not just a summoning beacon. It's also a trap."
Before we could react, the ground beneath the altar began to shift. The runes glowed brighter, pulsing with dark energy, and the floor beneath us rumbled ominously.
"Move!" I shouted, but it was too late.
The ground gave way, and we were falling.
Darkness swallowed us whole as the hidden chamber beneath the altar opened, releasing a wave of energy that disrupted our magic. The last thing I saw before the darkness consud us was the faint glow of the altar, pulsing like a heartbeat, calling out to sothing in the distance.
And whatever it was... it was coming.
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