III

━━━━━━┓༻❁༺┏━━━━━━

Arc III Chapter 11

━━━━━━┛༻❁༺┗━━━━━━

27th Anima Lunar VIII AAC 753

Aurora was patting her doll, embracing her in a tight hug. The little villainess in her was most satisfied with her most recent successes. Her ploy had achieved the desired results. So easily, Lambert had been seduced by the promise of riches. So easily, his eyes had been blinded by the shallow splendour of gold. Regardless of time and age, ultimately, man never changed. Man remained the feeble creature that it had always been, awfully predictable in so many ways.

Lambert raced ahead, unable to contain his excitement, leaving them all in the dust. "Hahaha, Iris, Michael, come on, follow me. Time to get rich!"

"..." Iris hesitated, doubtful. "And what about the mission, Lambert?"

"Forget about the mission!" Lambert retorted. "This is the opportunity of our lifetime, Iris! This is our chance to get rich, Iris! Rich! Rich!!! After me! No time to waste!" The man stormed off, leaving them behind in a daze, dumbfounded. He disappeared into the distance with the glee of a little child, unable to believe his luck.

"... ... ..." Iris stared at the disappearing figure of her companion and their official leader. The gold fever had got the better of him.

"Sister Iris, is Uncle Lambert all right? He's acting quite strange~", Aurora commented with her doll safely nestled in her arms.

"... ... ..." Iris sighed in resignation, well used to Lambert's antics and his propensity for rashness. "Don't worry, Lambert is all right. At least, I think so ... Seriously, it's always the same with him. The moment he sees money, the idiot stops thinking."

"Indeed." Arwing giggled from behind, amused by the sight of what had transpired. The elven woman joined their small group together, with Nelaeryn accompanying her.

"..." Iris quickly lowered her head to apologise for Lambert's inappropriate behaviour. Once again. "Lady Arwing, please forgive us, Lambert is ... not himself."

"No need to apologise, Iris. In the end, you cannot escape your human nature." Arwing dismissed her concerns with a benevolent smile. "Man cannot resist the powerful lure of gold and riches. Such is well know among elven kind. You are renown for your boundless greed and your lesser instincts. I would say that his behaviour befits your kind. His behaviour is only far too human, is it not?" Her last remark went deliberately unheard.

"... ... ..." Iris mustered an uneasy smile, unwilling to comment on the matter for the sake of politeness.

"..." Arwing clasped her hands together, her mood excellent. "Anyway, what do you think, Nelaeryn? Should we not we take a look as well? It seems that your human companions have stumbled across a fascinating find. I think that we should not forego such a precious opportunity. It is not every day that one is presented with the opportunity to explore uncharted ruins."

━━━━━━┛༻❁༺┗━━━━━━

The sight of Lambert happily looting the battlefield greeted Aurora upon arriving. Not that the sight surprised her. No one wanted to miss out on the chance of personal enrichment, especially not the adventurers among them. Being part of the more pecuniary oriented type of human beings, Lambert and company merrily scavenged the area in search of anything of worth.

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

Iris was already busy testing and calibrating her brand new staff, a gleaming silver rod covered in filigree and arcane runes, crowned by a crystal orb. Its former proprietor must have dropped it. Now a certain mage put it once again to good use.

Michael was still looking for a good blade. There were plenty of them lying around. The battlefield was littered with them. After all, it never hurt to have a few spare swords.

Lambert, meanwhile, was inspecting his new set of mail. He had been searching in vain for the lost gold of Valentia. Judging by his facial expression, his disappointment was considerable. No gold for him. No gold for grumpy Uncle Lambert. He had clearly hoped for more, but unbeknownst to him, a certain mischievous girl had already claimed the majority of valuables.

That being said, Lambert, Michael, Iris were far from the only ones to engage in looting. Quite the contrary. Their elven companions were following their example without the slightest hint of moral qualms. So much for the topic of human greed and lesser instincts.

Arwing had acquired a short mythril sword. Light, versatile, nimble, the weapon was a useful addition to her arsenal. The perfect blade for a warrioress of the noble elven race, one might suppose ...

"Snrrkkk!!! Ccrrrrkkk!!! Ssnnrrrrkkkkk!!!"

The entire room snapped to attention. Their gazes turned. A loud crack shattered their serene peace. Reality unravelled as massive quantities of aether gathered in a violent torrent. More and more aether accumulated. The aether converged, centred around a certain broken sword, manifesting. It was a bad omen. It was also the moment that Aurora and her doll came to realise that what was happening might be possibly her fault. Oops ...

Bright light illuminated the hall. A magic circle manifested before them in all its glory, adorned with glyphs and antique letters of power. A masterwork of spellcrafting. The circle began to crack, fracture, rupture, unable to maintain its form. The cracks expanded, spreading rapidly at an alarming rate. The circle was breaking apart before their very eyes. The circle broke, and a massive shock wave followed, making the earth tremble.

From the ashes of demise, a dark spire rose skywards, rising higher and higher. The spire pierced the open ceiling, pierced the sky. The pulsating pillar grew in size and strength, devouring, consuming all the aether in its vicinity. The spire was feeding on the dark and fire aether in the air, its hunger insatiable.

"..." Lambert drew his sword, his hands trembling, his face sweating. His instincts screamed danger, and rightfully so. He sensed the immense power, the sinister power lurking inside the spire. A power so evil, so dark, so vile in nature. A power not from this world. "Iris, what ... What is this?"

"I've got no idea." Iris stood like frozen, her face completely pale. The sinister aura of the aether had not escaped the mage. "The spire ... The pillar ... It's accumulating aether like crazy. I've never seen anything like this before ..."

"Listen, everyone, we must retreat! Immediately!" Arwing barked from behind, her voice serious. "This ... This is a demon! The circle before was a seal! We must have somehow broken it!"

Lambert gripped his sword. "What? A demon? Are you serious?"

"Yes." Arwing gritted her teeth, probably cursing their terrible luck. "We have no time to waste! We must retreat! Now! This is not an enemy that we can hope to fight! Not a demon. And certainly not an archdemon!"

Demons, they were the product of the most heinous of magic, black magic. With the help of the arcane arts, the mages of old created in their delusion, in their pursuit of power, mindless beasts bred for the sole purpose of slaughter. Only too late, they came to realise the error of their ways and the cost their actions carried.

"An archdemon?" Lambert stiffened, the blood in his veins freezing, all life drained from his face. The mere mention sent a shiver down his spine. "That's ... That's not possible! That can't be!"

"Look, there is no point in arguing about the finer details of daemonology! Demon or archdemon, it doesn't matter! We must retreat! Now! What are you waiting for? " Arwing stressed with a sense of urgency. Their lives were on the line.

"..." Iris seconded her opinion, the panic in her voice patent. "Lambert, Arwing is right ..."

Too little. Too late. The spire ruptured, unable to contain the power slumbering within it. The final vestiges of the seal shattered, and the shackles binding the demon crumbled. The aether condensed, turning into bones, tendons, muscles, flesh, to claws, to horns. The shape of a monstrosity emerged from the realm of shadows, of a beast tampered in the fires of war. Born from aether, a reptile creature appeared before them, bipedal, with claws sharp as razors, curled horns, and crazed pupils filled with utter madness.

"GgRRAaAAUuNNggh!!! GrRAaUuNGKhhTHAaRgh!!! KhHaaRRrr'AaGGhhTTHuun!!!" His primordial roar shattered any semblance of normality in a cacophony of insanity. His grotesque laughter echoed across the halls. The archdemon reared his ugly head, his hunger, his lust, his fury, his cravings, his very soul forever insatiable. More! More! More! He relished the terror and fear. "KRrAAaghh'HhaaRRgkKTHAAuuRr!!!"

Sealed, banished, forgotten, but not yet vanquished, Kakos rose once again, awoken from centuries of humiliation, from centuries of captivity. He was now once again see free! Free! Unbound from the shackles of his mortal captors! For how long had he been waiting. For how many ages had he been biding his time. Now the moment had finally come!

The archdemon roared, violent, infernal, "GrRaa'kTHUULghh!!! Free! Free! FREE!!! KrrUAAkk'ThaaRRhlGh!!! I'm FREEEEE!!! NgrRul'ThKhHyaAhAHkhh!!!"

Archdemon Kakos

━━━━━━┛༻❁༺┗━━━━━━

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.