Chapter 135: Horrors of Hell [3]
"Funny, isn't it?" Azriel's voice cut through the silence, sharp and cold.
"How Mira knew exactly where to find the underground network, even though the first time anyone should have heard about it was when I told them."
Amaya's expression darkened. She had no response; she didn't know how Mira knew, but Mira was right.
The entrance to the network lay before them, stretching out from the shore, a strange square formation at the edge of the dark sea. It seemed like an opening—yet not. The black surface reflected nothing, swallowing every flicker of light from the battle raging overhead.
Flashes of red and gold slashed through the clouds, and Mira's distant screams mingled with the creature's inhuman roars.
"My prince," Amaya ventured, voice uncertain, "did the other entrance, the one across the sea, look anything like this?"
Azriel tensed as all eyes turned to him. He couldn't hide his frustration; the book had given him no details about this place. His heart thundered, echoing like a drum against his ribs. And he wasn't the only one. Everyone was on edge, a collective sense of dread growing like a stain in their minds.
They all had the same thought: the unknown depths of the underground might be safer than remaining out here, exposed. But if Mira's fight with that creature fell from the sky…
Only the gods—and maybe Azriel—would know the outcome. And he did not want to find out.
"It is," he lied, forcing himself to sound calm.
Because, deep down, he knew this was it. The entrance was a gate—a square so dark it seemed painted from the very void, a black that devoured the light and dared nothing near. He thought back to the void passage on the bridge where he had fought Benson and his men. The mere memory drained the blood from his face.
'That future self of mine… the one who looked like Death itself… it won't appear again, will it?'
The question lingered, unanswered.
They stood in silence, each person glancing warily at the gate.
The choice was grim:
face whatever lay below, or remain here and risk whatever monstrosity lurked above. Staying close to Amaya, a master among them, was their only comfort.
"Let's... let's go inside," Amaya finally said, her voice barely steady.
Even a master hesitated.
Azriel ground his teeth, anger and frustration building.
'Dad… just what type of pills are you taking these days?'
For the first time, he understood why his mother had been so strict on him. His father's recklessness had put everyone here, trapped in a deadly mission meant only to unearth secrets of the Sunken Islands. Now they were fighting to survive.
Azriel glanced up, the flashes of gold and red illuminating the clouds above. But strangely, the sounds of battle had stopped.
Silence fell, a suffocating, oppressive stillness that pressed down on them like an invisible hand clamping over their mouths. Sweat trickled down their faces, hearts thudding so loud it drowned the wind.
'Did… did it win?'
The question gnawed at him.
Was Mira gone?
Had the creature above—the one powerful enough to challenge even a grandmaster—actually won?
""!!!""
Then, as if in answer, a screech shattered the silence, an unholy sound that defied comprehension. It tore into Azriel's mind, forcing him to his knees. Blood trickled from his ears as he looked up, terror paralyzing him. Amaya was no exception, face contorted in agony, as she, too, dropped to the ground. Others screamed, clutching their ears, or gritted their teeth, their faces twisted in pain.
The very earth trembled, ancient trees groaned, and those already ablaze began to collapse. And then… the sea started to move. Small waves formed, shifting closer to shore. Further out, massive waves began to rise, churning, growing.
'This… this is why no one wants to be a hero…!
'
Watching the chaos before him, he understood why people turned away from fighting the Void Realm.
Here, death was the only certainty.
Amaya's scream tore through the haze of pain.
"Everyone, inside! Now!"
No one argued. Bleeding ears covered, each ran toward the dark entrance, vanishing into the shadows one by one. Soon, only Azriel, Jasmine, Yelena, Nol, Amaya, and Lumine remained.
"Dad better have a damn good explanation for being here," Jasmine muttered darkly, casting a final glance at the entrance before looking at Azriel. They shared a tense nod, and she stepped into the entrance.
"Nol, stay by my sister's side. Every second," Azriel ordered coldly.
Nol's eyes widened briefly, but he nodded, silently entering the square, leaving only Amaya, Azriel, Lumine, and Yelena.
"My prince, we need to hurry. I have an awful feeling about this…"
Amaya's voice trembled behind him, her gaze scanning the woods.
"She's right, Azriel; we need to go, now," Lumine added, panic tightening his face.
"...Something's coming," Yelena murmured, her [Instinct] unmistakably triggered.
And that was good. Azriel wanted that. Without turning, he clenched his fists, his eyes fixed on the clouds and the smoldering trees, unblinking.
'I need to see it... just what the hell is it?'
His gaze darted over the forest, searching for any sign. In the book, this journey to Joaquin had been simple, hardly dangerous, just a minor arc meant to bring Jasmine and Lumine closer. But everything had shifted, this time driven by his very presence.
Azriel knew that nothing about this trip would be harmless now. He'd made sure of that.
The original timeline was gone—obliterated by his actions. And now, Lumine's quest from the [System] could be a genuine threat, one that Azriel needed to understand.
The sound of clashing metal tore through the silence, flashes of gold and red cutting across the burning woods.
"Azriel, come on!"
"My prince?!"
"Lumine, let's just go!"
The wind grew fiercer, a howling storm rising around them, but Azriel remained unmoving, teeth gritted as if he could force the answer to appear.
'There has to be something. Don't tell me the threat is in the Sunken Islands or the tunnels.'
If so, they were in much deeper trouble than he'd anticipated.
Amaya's hand gripped his right, soft yet urgent, pulling him back to reality.
"My prince, please… we have to go, or I'll have to make you," she whispered, pale and frantic.
'Why is she so scared…?'
In her eyes, he saw her worry wasn't for herself but for him, fear that something would happen to him. He turned, noticing Lumine and Yelena, hesitant to leave him behind. His face darkened as he clenched his jaw, looking once more at the blazing forest.
'Just give me a sign…'
But all he heard was the piercing clang of metal on metal, reverberating in his ears. Another roar followed, thick with something ancient and full of rage.
"Alright… let's go," he finally muttered, giving in. Everyone's relief was evident, but as he turned, Amaya's hand still clutching his, he froze.
Something moved in the corner of his vision.
He whipped around, his sudden tension drawing their attention. They followed his gaze—and their faces went deathly pale.
From the edge of the burning woods, something emerged.
A man.
A man in a shredded, black military uniform. His body lurched forward, face smeared with blood and dirt.
But it was his eyes—no, the absence of them—that seized them in pure, primal horror. The empty sockets stared blankly ahead, flesh peeling back to expose cheekbones, with bits of skin dangling from his face. His left arm was gone, blood still dripping from the raw wound, and part of his nose was missing, a jagged hollow revealing the insides.
Then, he stopped.
He stopped and looked. Directly at Azriel.
Azriel's body went rigid, a cold terror gripping him. His hand tightened unconsciously around Amaya's.
"Inside. Now!"
They began to retreat, but Azriel's eyes remained fixed on the man, even as the battle cries and monstrous roars echoed overhead, even as the dark clouds started to rain a scalding, crimson liquid once again. Azriel couldn't look away.
Just as he reached the entrance, his heart lurched.
The man… smiled. Or at least, it seemed to—a twisted, unnatural attempt that chilled Azriel to his core.
Then he saw them.
The man wasn't alone.
In the burning shadows behind him, more figures emerged, each as grotesque, each as nightmarishly ruined.
And then… everything turned dark.
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