Chapter 44: Realm Of Madness [40] Who Is Sacrifice
The world around him was plunged into a similar darkness, the sa one that had perated the room that had just freshly collapsed. Leonidas looked around with caution, Blush raised high, his guard up.
All of a sudden, a chill went up Leonidas’s spine, making him turn around, staring straight at the collapsed chamber. But there was nothing...however, sothing else happened.
The walls suddenly lit up with a brilliant blue fla, dozens of torches lining the dark obsidian walls, a haunting yet srizing sight.
His breath caught in his chest, but Leonidas forced the feeling of awe down, walking forward with clear reluctance.
His eyes traveled over the room, taking in everything. The walls, as Leonidas had noted before, were obsidian, a shade so abyssal it practically sucked in the ghostly light from the soul torches.
Other than said torches lining the vast expanse of the walls, they were empty. Massive chandeliers of glass, like crystal, hung suspended in the air, floating as if held by sothing unseen.
At the far end of the room, Leonidas could see a vague silhouette of so sort of altar, but his eyes just couldn’t make out the exact structure at the massive distance.
Similar to the previous chamber, yet different at the sa ti.
The only difference was the chandeliers and the lack of the twirling pillars. Leonidas slowed down, coming to a halt. His mind worked, trying to think of a possible reason the Sanctum of Sacrifice would force him into his current position.
He stayed there, hand on his chin, eyes closed in deep ponderance.
There’s nothing here, which leads
to believe the only possible reason would be to be near the altar...
But would he?
An altar—a place literally associated with sacrifice—conveniently in a temple nad after sacrifice...no way was Leonidas going to walk to it willingly.
He was almost certain sothing life-changing—or ending—was going to happen to him. No matter how much of a curious spirit he was, Leonidas still held onto the fragile thread of caution.
Hell, unless absolutely necessary, he wouldn’t even want to be in a 100-mile radius of the damned thing. But then again, it was necessary.
His eyes traced the faint outline of the shrine, taking in its curved edges and triangular roof. Fortunately for him, he didn’t have to make a choice.
Or rather, it was more like the choice was made for him. The sanctum shook, chandeliers shaking wildly, the sound of chittering glass echoing in the empty chamber.
The luminous flas of the blue torches danced wildly, looming shadows spreading like a titanic maw of darkness. The wall hadn’t yet started moving, but Leonidas doubted that it wouldn’t.
Do I really have to...? How annoying.
Sighing, he started moving, each step an inexorable pull to his inevitable doom. Knowing that sothing cursed was going to crawl onto him like a spider, yet still walking forward all the sa, was definitely not good on his conscience.
His instincts scread at him, and even his body started trembling the closer he got. However, what stopped him dead in his tracks wasn’t his instincts or trembling body; it was the sudden drop in temperature.
The air turned frigid, thin patches of ice crawling up the obsidian walls like paint splattered by a delusional painter. His breath turned ashen, fogging in his face, and a few steps later, spectral smoke rose from the ground, swallowing his newly ford lower body.
Yup. Definitely not good for my mind.
Leonidas felt like tucking his taphorical tail and running, and before the thought could even finish forming, a sudden grating noise shattered his illusions of safety.
The wall, the one that hadn’t yet moved, started creaking against the floor, sparks flying. It was like a barrier was closing in on him, threatening to crush him in a vice.
Oh mother fuc—
His thoughts were, rudely, cut off once more when the wall literally started barreling towards him. His mouth dropped at the sight, and Leonidas felt like he was being crushed, despite the wall not being anywhere near him.
In front of him was a scene that was getting creepier every second, and behind him was a moving wall...one that would crush him into bloody mist.
Holy hell!
His choice was made rather quickly. Leonidas sprinted towards the ghastly shrine, his reford feet feeling better than ever before.
Oh, how he would have enjoyed the simple blessing of running had he not been faced with impending death. The altar neared, barely a hundred steps away, and at his current speed, Leonidas would reach it in a matter of seconds.
Just before he could slam into the altar, he stopped. The wall stopped with him, having completed its objective of forcing him forward.
Giving it a hateful look, he focused back on the altar itself. It was black, like the rest of the Sanctum, with curved edges and an almost divine feeling.
On the edges of a circular platform sat a bunch of pillars, connecting to each other in a spiral, forming a triangular shape.
Four torches sat beside the pillars, one on each. They only served to accentuate the gloomy, ’you’re going to die!’ vibe.
But it wasn’t the platform, or the obvious sacrificial vibes that had rooted Leonidas in place; it was the inscriptions carved all over the platform, on every pillar, every torch.
Hell, even the infernal blue flas had inscriptions carved into their fiery depths. Leonidas didn’t even know how it was possible...maybe magic?
The world was weird after all.
There was also a cracked mask sitting on a raised dais, but it wasn’t special enough to warrant his attention just yet.
Ho-how is this even possible?
His mind felt like it was about to burst, as if he had overconsud knowledge he wasn’t ant to know. Why? Simply because of what was carved into every surface.
[Fear Sacrifice, Bane of the Gods]
[Admire Sacrifice, Herald of the Unseen]
[Hail Sacrifice, Eldest of the 27]
Who is Sacrifice...?
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