Chapter 194
" 12:45:30 "
Above the trembling sky, the Holy Fortress of Álfheim moved like a god's shadow, vast, golden, and terrible. From its underbelly, an enormous glyph began to burn, a Judgment Seal, its radiant light twisting into hues of crimson and violet. Once a symbol of divine purity, it now pulsed like a living wound, veins of black mana spreading outward in grotesque, web-like patterns.
Inside the command sanctum, Holy Vicar Arnis Feldreldre stood before the altar of Aether, his white robes glowing faintly in the dim radiance. His voice trembled as he whispered the sacred prayer, but the words no longer carried the warmth of faith—they hissed, distorted, like the voice of something mimicking holiness.
"O Maiden of Light, deliver us from shadow…"
His reflection in the crystal mirror before him flickered, showing not his own face but something behind it, a silhouette of horns, eyes burning like molten glass, lips curved in mockery.
"Deliver you? No, Arnis… consume them."
The Vicar's body tensed. He dropped his staff, gripping his skull as the whispers grew louder, echoing in languages that scraped at the walls of his sanity. The very divine crystals powering the fortress began to react, glowing red instead of gold. The air filled with the stench of sulfur and ozone.
"No… no, this is not what Aether wills!"
"Aether?" The voice laughed. "Aether is gone. You are my prophet now. You will cleanse this world of its heretics… and in their ashes, I will be reborn."
His eyes, once pale blue, darkened to a burning scarlet. The corruption had reached the core of his soul. The Holy Vicar raised his trembling hands toward the altar and screamed, as the first Judgment Flame ignited above Karion.
The heavens themselves shuddered. The sky turned crimson, and a colossal sphere of burning light descended from the fortress, its heat vaporizing the clouds and turning the air into shimmering waves. and hit the foundation of the twin peaks.
Meanwhile, far below, the United Guild's camp was hidden beneath the ruins of an old outpost, half-buried under centuries of debris. Broken stone walls and shattered columns served as their only cover. Under the protection of Mary Kaye Lazarus, a shimmering dome of hardened earth had been raised, forming a makeshift shelter about four feet thick. It pulsed faintly with enchantments, glowing every time the shockwaves from above rippled through the ground.
Inside the cramped tunnels, over three hundred players waited in tense silence. The air was thick with fear and sweat. The hum of energy from the floating fortress above was so strong that even the less sensitive could feel it in their bones.
Mary Kaye crouched near the entrance, her hands buried in the soil, whispering to the earth spirits that still slumbered below. "Hold the line," she murmured, sweat dripping down her temple. "No cracks. Not yet…"
Addison Lazarus knelt beside her, checking the position of the three hidden camps, each spaced ten meters apart, strategic, defensive, impossible to wipe out in one strike. Her sharp eyes scanned the faint tremors of mana in the air.
"Everyone, on alert," she ordered quietly. "That thing above us… isn't divine. Whatever power it's channeling, it's wrong."
From the back of the camp, Jacob Lazarus stepped forward, his voice steady despite the rumbling ground. "Vice teams, prepare the shock wards. Oliver, Rainey, anything in the air, you shoot it down before it reaches us."
Rainey's eyes shimmered with blue light as swarms of spectral insects began forming around her arms like armor. "Already ahead of you, boss. Whatever's coming, it's gonna regret flying."
A faint glow illuminated the tunnels as Cody Lazarus activated his shockwave array,a circular rune etched onto the stone floor that pulsed like a living heart. "Shock field's primed. Anything within ten meters gets hit with enough force to crack its bones."
From another corner, Farrah Lazarus whispered a chant, and vines sprouted across the walls, weaving themselves into natural shields. "If the debris falls, we won't get buried alive. The earth will catch us."
The ground suddenly quaked, a massive explosion echoed through the mountains as the Judgment Flame struck the royal barrier surrounding Karion. The shockwave raced across the land, flattening forests and stirring up violent gusts. Inside the camp, everyone clung to the walls as rocks fell and mana surged.
Mary Kaye gasped, "That's not holy light, it's hellfire!"
Jacob looked up toward the faint crack of the ceiling. "Then Daniel was right… again."
Addison's expression darkened. "The Vicar isn't leading that fortress anymore. Something else is."
Far above,
in the fortress of light and ruin, the Holy Vicar stood at the balcony of his spire, watching the abomination crawl into being. The first Judgment Flame still burned behind him, a sun of divine fire that now pulsed with shadows. His hands trembled around his staff.
"What… what have I done?" he whispered.
The divine energy he had summoned to purge evil now twisted through his veins, whispering in the voice of something ancient and mocking. Each prayer he uttered returned to him warped, repeating in his head like a chorus of blasphemy.
He clutched his temples as visions flooded his mind, angels screaming in reverse, the heavens dripping black light, his own face melting into the mask of a demon.
"The Flame judges all, even you…" a voice hissed from within the burning light.
The Vicar fell to his knees, the sacred staff clattering beside him. Below, the centipede raised its head toward the fortress as if answering a call only it could hear.
The ground convulsed violently, throwing half the camp off their feet. A shrill, echoing screech tore through the air, a thousand overlapping cries of hunger and agony. Dust and mana flared into the night as the mist peeled away, revealing not eight limbs, but hundreds. The "the karion twin peaks " was alive, scales of obsidian and bone grinding against one another like the teeth of a god.
Addison's eyes widened, disbelief twisting her face.
"That's… no spider."
Cody cursed, gripping his staff tight.
"What the hell! It's supposed to be the calamity demon queen spider, Melgil!"
Jacob's jaw clenched as he watched the towering silhouette tear through the fog, dozens of glowing eyes blinking in unnatural rhythm.
"That's even worse," he muttered, his voice low and tense.
Oliver barked a laugh that held no humor.
"Worse than a spider? Oh, that's just great!"
The ground cracked beneath them as the creature slammed its front claws into the valley ground sending a shockwave that toppled dead trees and shattered stone, even if it was still miles away from the capital.
Mary Kaye's voice cut through the chaos like a whip.
"Everyone under cover! Barrier mages, up, now!"
"the first gate is already open , and and we are stuck at the second , that shockwave was enough to flatten the land.
Addison Lazarus order the non combatants to pack all their gears and supplies inside the battle wagon and stay inside, dozens of players obeyed instantly. The ground glowed as earth manipulators slammed their palms into the soil, raising jagged walls of rock while wind casters layered shimmering domes of mana above them. A thin hum filled the air as barriers locked into place.
" if that thing attacks the main city were are going die here ,"
"f_ck sake! we got enemies trying to kill all of us above, and that thing right in front of us is rampaging like crazy, is that sees us , sense us ... we are gone in a flash...
" 13:05:02 "
Dozens of glowing runes carved themselves into the air, forming a trembling wall of light just as the centipede's head slammed into the far ridge. The explosion sent boulders tumbling like meteors, shredding trees and tearing trenches through the dirt.
The veterans' formation scattered as a choking wave of corruption swept through the field, breathing darkness that corroded steel and turned mana brittle.
Addison gritted her teeth, trying to focus through the ringing in her ears. "Cody, status!"
"That thing, it's… it's going berserk. because of fortress's flame!"
Her blood ran cold. The realization struck her as the centipede's carapace glowed with streaks of molten crimson, the same hue as the Judgment Flame burning over the Holy Vicar's fortress.
Addison and her squad could see it now, two forces converging, light and corruption intertwined like serpents.
"Everyone," Addison breathed, her eyes locked on the abomination cresting the ridge. "The north first and second wall will soon vanish we need to move!"
The Judgment Flame pulsed again, and fired again toward the beast.
The centipede screamed. And the world began to burn in both light and shadow.
The Holy Vicar stood upon the cathedral balcony of the floating garrison, his eyes bloodshot and his robes aflame with the remnants of divine light. The Judgment Flame burned behind him, no longer pure gold, but laced with streaks of black fire that rippled like veins through the holy sky.
The fortress itself groaned, as if alive. Choirs of holy knights, once disciplined, unwavering, now marched in perfect silence, their armor seared and their eyes hollow, reflecting the fire that tainted their souls.
Below, the valley was chaos. The centipede, a creature of impossible scale and hunger, screamed as it crawled through the fractured plains. Sixty meters of armored horror tore through the forests and mountains alike. Its countless legs shattered the ground, turning entire ridges into rubble. Each impact echoed through the air like thunder.
The Vicar's vision flickered, his divine sight now cracked and trembling. Through it, he saw more than the creature; he saw sin itself crawling across the world, wearing flesh and bone. His lips quivered as the demon's whispers returned.
"Do not weep, shepherd… Burn the rot. Burn them all."
He clutched his staff and staggered to his command dais. "Prepare… the garrison. Ready the wings of flame. Let Karion see God's wrath."
The fortress shuddered as hundreds of cannons unfolded from its underbelly. Rings of holy glyphs spun around the floating citadel, drawing mana directly from the corrupted Judgment Flame. The soldiers knelt, chanting prayers that sounded more like screams than devotion.
Far below, the centipede screeched again, raising its head toward the floating garrison—but it could not reach. Its rage turned elsewhere.
It turned south, toward Karion's capital.
a glitching sound could be heard, it was faint but very distinguish, Sigma was using its administrative authority to change the characters script. one character reacted as he was a noble serving the court of holy Empire of Álfheim.
Sir Maurel Favian of Álfheim Silver Crest is a venerable nobleman of the Holy Empire of Álfheim, a figure defined as much by his wisdom as by his unwavering devotion. At fifty, he bears the calm dignity of a life spent in service to both faith and people. His once-dark hair, now flecked with silver, frames a face etched with gentle lines of thoughtfulness and compassion. His eyes, a clear and steady gray, radiate patience, empathy, and a quiet strength that inspires trust among all who meet him.
A scholar at heart, Sir Maurel has dedicated decades to studying theology, history, and philosophy, often sharing his knowledge with the young and the curious. He believes that knowledge is a gift meant to be used for the betterment of the world. Despite his noble station, he walks humbly among his people, offering guidance, support, and charity to those in need. The poor and sick in Álfheim know him as a benefactor whose generosity is as steady as the morning sun.
Though he has never taken a wife, Sir Maurel's heart is wholly devoted to the Holy Maiden of Álfheim, serving her not just as a symbol of his faith but as the guiding light of his life. His loyalty to her and the empire is absolute, expressed in deeds as much as in prayer, and he remains a living example of virtue, piety, and selfless service.
Clad often in simple but elegant robes that reflect both his noble lineage and his devotion, Sir Maurel carries an air of serenity and steadfast purpose. He is a man who commands respect not through power or wealth, but through kindness, wisdom, and the quiet majesty of a soul wholly dedicated to the sacred.
as he was was walking toward the main hall of the floating garrison , he suddenly stop and , suddenly information flowed into his mind and his blind servitude toward the purge suddenly change. something happened.. his script was change, as well as numerous characters inside the huge floating fortress.
SYSTEM ALERT: Unauthorized changes to character script detected. Administrative override engaged. Rewriting game sequence…
NOTICE: Character parameters altered. Admin privileges confirmed. System is now reconstructing world logic.
[SYSTEM LOG]: Character script integrity compromised. Administrative rights invoked. Initiating game rewrite protocol.
WARNING: Script deviation detected. Admin access utilized. Reality parameters are being recalibrated…
SYSTEM UPDATE: Character code modified. Administrative override in effect. Recompiling game architecture.
The sanctum of the floating fortress, once a cathedral of radiant marble and solemn light, had become an infernal theater where holiness decayed into madness. The divine crystals embedded in its walls, normally bright with Álfheim's celestial glow now pulsed with veins of red and black, their light sickly and feverish, like blood trapped beneath translucent skin. The air hung heavy with the metallic scent of burnt incense and ozone. Every breath felt like inhaling faith gone rancid.
Sir Maurel knelt upon the cracked marble floor, his palms stinging against its unnatural cold. "My Lord… there are still hundreds of thousands hiding beneath Karion," he pleaded, his voice raw but steady. "They took refuge behind the Third Gate, sealed since the old wars. They are our people, or at least they were once. Let the hunters go in. Let them open the gate and judge for themselves."
Across from him, Arnis Feldreldre, the Holy Vicar, once the serene hand of the divine, stood wreathed in light that no longer blessed but devoured. His staff trembled in his grip, the runes carved upon it pulsing to a rhythm that wasn't human.
"Those who sealed themselves away chose exile over penance," he replied, each word like a sermon delivered from a grave. His eyes were twin storms of white and crimson, flickering with a divine madness that reflected the trembling of the fortress itself. "Five years they have hidden, Maurel. Five years since their voices reached us. What do you think they became down there, isolated, whispering their false prayers? They chose corruption. They invited it. And now… they will meet it."
Sir Maurel took a step forward, desperation cracking through his formality. "Your Eminence, the hunters. our brothers and sisters, they've bled to keep the Empire safe! If the people below have turned, let the hunters see. If they are still human, we bring them back. If not—"
"Collateral," Arnis cut in, the word striking like a lash. "Collateral is the coin of renewal. If a thousand die so that a million learn to kneel, then a thousand is but a blessing."
The Vicar's voice filled the vaulted chamber, echoing against the stained glass until even the statues of saints seemed to recoil. The knights and priests surrounding him shifted uneasily, their faith shaken by the weight of his conviction.
"Do you not see, Maurel?" Arnis's tone rose to a furious hymn. "Their survival is proof of their guilt! They hid from judgment, from the god who made them! They have chosen darkness—and I," he lifted his staff high, "shall deliver light!"
The marble beneath his feet split open as golden runes ignited, swirling up the walls in radiant spirals. But that light was impure. Threads of red laced through the gold, twisting and knotting into grotesque shapes that pulsed like veins. The floor began to hum, a sound halfway between a prayer and a scream.
Maurel's breath caught. He could feel it now, something else breathing through the Vicar, something ancient and wrong. He looked into Arnis's eyes and saw not reflection but presence: a silhouette of claws, a maw curling in delight, eyes burning like coals submerged in oil.
"Do you hear them, Maurel?" Arnis whispered, though his voice now carried like thunder. "The angels weep, the demons laugh, and the world itself begs to be reborn. They speak through me. They command me!"
He struck the floor with his staff, and the impact rippled through the chamber like a heartbeat. The floating fortress groaned in response, its massive engines roaring to life. From below, the roar of wind and shifting metal echoed upward as the Judgment Flame cannons began to turn, massive runic arrays rotating to target the land beneath.
Maurel stumbled backward, shouting over the rising din. "My lord, this isn't Aether's will! You're being used! Whatever you saw, whatever you heard, it isn't divine!"
But Arnis only smiled, his expression both beatific and damned. "Then may the devil serve the will of God."
He stretched his arms outward. The Judgment Flame cannons of the holy fortress began to turn downward. "Prepare the seals," Arnis declared. "Charge the runic chambers! The Second Flame shall burn the unbelievers to their marrow!" Outside, the holy garrison's engines roared to life. The air split as divine power gathered in its massive lenses,yet the light was no longer pure.
It bled around the edges, dripping red, turning the clouds into rivers of fire. Sir Maurel, half-conscious, tried to crawl toward him. "You're… being used… my lord… this isn't Aether…" Arnis looked down at him, smiling with a face of a saint, and the eyes of a devil. "Then may the devil serve the will of God." And as he raised his staff one last time, the world answered.
The sanctum exploded in light. The runes screamed, the stained glass shattered, and from the underbelly of the holy garrison, the Second Judgment Flame was born.
It began as a sound, a deep, resonant hum that made the air vibrate, followed by a blinding pulse that set the clouds ablaze. A spear of fire, white at its core and bleeding crimson at its edges, tore through the heavens. It split the sky like a divine wound, illuminating everything below in hues of gold, scarlet, and despair. The clouds twisted into rivers of burning light as the beam descended toward Karion's heart.
The barrier shielding the capital from aerial assault shattered like glass, its fragments scattering into the storm above. Yet before the divine strike could reach the heart of the third walled military district, something twisted the current of its power, bending the heavens themselves.
For a single, blinding heartbeat, the capital burned brighter than the sun.Then the light fell.
The world convulsed. the third gate turned to dust before they could crumble. Streets melted into rivers of molten stone. The scream of a thousand souls were heard under the third district.
Daniel hovered above the burning skyline, his Netherborn armor pulsing with fractured light. Ten thousand units of chaos energy fused with thirty thousand mana streams surged through him, weaving into a lattice of countless barrier spells. The air trembled as he redirected the Judgment Flame, bending divine wrath away from the heart of the capital.
But then, something felt wrong.The garrison's attack carried a resonance unlike anything he had sensed before.
Frowning beneath his helm, Daniel activated Omni-Resonance. The world around him rippled, layers of reality peeling away revealing what lay beneath the Third District.
Thousands of living beings. Buried. Breathing. Trapped beneath the city's skin.
Daniel's vision widened as the echoes of Omni-Resonance settled. Beneath tons of rock and molten debris, an entire world stirred, an underground city. Crude lights flickered below ancient stone arches. People lived there… thousands of them. Hidden from the surface. Forgotten.
His voice trembled through. "what! There's… a city beneath the Third District. They're alive."
" we never designed it to be that way,
13:05:02 — The clock froze.The hands twitched once. Then twice.And stopped.
Everything—sound, breath, motion—hung in stillness. The world itself seemed to wait.
Then came the noise.
"#$%:00:02 — ERR—OR—##DATA CORRUPTION##…"
The voice was no longer confined to air; it bled through the mana field, vibrated through Daniel's armor, and whispered inside the marrow of his bones.Half-machine. Half-human. Neither alive nor dead.
"The Karion Third Gate… has been… forcefully… opened."The words fractured mid-transmission."F—O—R—C—E—D… OPENED… OPENED… PENED… PENED…"
Reality shuddered.Data streams turned into molten light, symbols raining across the sky like broken code:⟟ERROR⟧ NULL INDEX [TIME] NOT FOUND.VARIABLE: WORLD.STATE = UNSAFE.
Daniel's HUD exploded into static. Each alert overlaid another, language collapsing into an unreadable blur.
SYSTEM OVERRIDE DETECTED.24-HOUR TIME-PREPARATION: REMOVED.MAIN SCENARIO: REWRITING PARAMETERS.
PLAYER PARAMETERS MAY NOT SURVIVE REWRITE…
SYSTEM ERROR:[WARNING: PLAYER ID CONFLICT. TWO DANIELS DETECTED.][SYNCHRONIZATION FAILURE — REALITY SPLITTING…]
The screen dimmed. His heartbeat synced with the flickering light.Then the final message appeared, carved across the sky in burning text:
NEW DIRECTIVE UPLOADED.SYSTEM WILL RECREATE STORY FROM SCRATCH.ADMIN: ONLINE.PLAYER: SUBJECT TO OBSERVATION.
Then, with a final flicker of static, the world jerked forward. Time resumed—but not as it was. Something… else had entered the frame.
Static screamed across the airwaves. The sky itself flickered—then split.
The floating garrison halted mid-air, its runic engines stuttering like a dying heartbeat. Dozens of its weapons turned offline, then on again, each recalibrating to unknown coordinates.
Daniel's eyes flooded with crimson data-streams."Calibration…? No—this isn't recalibration," he whispered. "It's rewriting the scenario."
Below, the Third District's ruins shifted, as though time itself was being edited.Buildings repaired themselves only to crumble again. The streets reversed the flow of molten rock. People below screamed as their bodies phased between existence and nothingness.
"TIMELINE DESYNCHRONIZATION DETECTED," THE SYSTEM CONTINUED."
ADJUSTING VARIABLES. REPLACING LOST ELEMENTS. COMPENSATING FOR ANOMALY "
Daniel's heart sank. He understood now. The Tower wasn't reacting to chaos—it was creating balance through destruction .If Melgil had escaped its role in the story, the system demanded a replacement. A new "guardian" for the Third Gate.
And something was already answering that call.
The Earth shuddered, a low, resonant vibration that pulsed through stone and steel alike. It was deeper now, heavier, like the planet itself was groaning under some unseen weight. Daniel's boots trembled against the cracked concrete, sending tiny shards skittering across the floor.
From the depths of the underground factory, where shadows pooled like stagnant water, lay the corpse of the Warden Monster. Its massive form was still, grotesque in its silence, yet somehow… waiting. From its chest, the unharvested core throbbed faintly, awakening with a slow, deliberate rhythm.
A crystal stone, no larger than an apple, emerged from the core. Light radiated from it, pale and cold, seeping into the cracks of the factory floor. But it was wrong. It wasn't the warm, living light of the divine. It wasn't the fiery, chaotic burn of the infernal. It was… unnatural.
Daniel looked toward the horizon, voice tightening. He clenched his weapon, feeling the energy pulse in his veins. "It's quest a reset.
red across the horizon. The floating garrison breached Karion Territory, and reality itself began to shift.
The sky twisted, the map of battle redrawing itself. The Third District a one-mile-wide circular fortress of stone and steel was now the focus of all fire. The barrier that had redirected the Judgment Flame was part of it. A construct older than the Empire.
Daniel clenched his fist. "So many changes… all at once."
The air around him shimmered as fragments of prediction runes scrolled across his sight The centipede, that colossal aberration, was one of those changes. The floating garrison another expected variable. Both within the threshold of possibility. Both manageable.
But what disturbed him most was what wasn't supposed to happen.
Melgil the Demon Spider had already been removed from the Tower's control. It had become a separate entity, self-aware and beyond containment. The system had compensated.
Something else, something unrecorded, had been summoned in its place.
Daniel's breath turned cold. "The Tower will replaced it…" he muttered. "The beast that was meant to awaken when the Second Floor opened…
The ground screamed, a deep and terrible resonance that shook the bones of mountains and shattered the silence of the heavens.
The Centipede turned, all thousand of its eyes snapping toward the burning horizon. Each orb glowed with molten hatred, reflecting the twisted light of the Judgment Flame above. The air itself bent around its colossal form, pressure waves flattening forests and shattering every window within two miles. as if something has attracted it toward the city.
And in that single, horrifying moment, Daniel saw the truth unravel before his eyes. the warden core it is re-acting to its presence.
The system had rewritten the scenario. The third boss monster was no longer the Demon Spider—it was this. The Centipede was now officially the Third Gate Guardian, and newly generated vast number of people trapped beneath the Third District… were now part of the quest objective.
Not NPCs. Not collateral. Targets of protection.
Daniel's eyes widened as data streams raced across his visor. The Tower's interface flickered, rewriting entire mission protocols in real time.
[Quest Type: Defense][Objective: Protect the Third District Civilians][Enemy: Gate Guardian — Abyss Centipede, LVL ???][Failure Condition: Total Annihilation]
He clenched his jaw. "Damn it…"
Daniel activated his mental communication, and telepathically informed all of the united guild members His voice thundered through every member carrying the authority of a commander and the urgency of someone who knew what was coming.
"All guild members, move! Now!" he barked. "Everyone, into the Third District!"
Flashes of sigil and movement spells erupted across the shattered plains as hundreds of players and hunters repositioned.
"This is no longer a hunt quest," Daniel continued, voice sharp. "This is a defense quest! We hold the Third District at all costs!"
The order rippled through the ranks like lightning. Veterans exchanged grim looks, mages began weaving barrier sigils, and the vanguard drew weapons that shimmered under the red light of the corrupted sky.
Above them, the floating garrison trembled, engines pulsing erratically as divine fire gathered for another strike. The Holy Fortress of Álfheim, once a symbol of sanctity, now burned like a herald of apocalypse.
And below, the Centipede screamed again. its roar shaking mountains, its limbs tearing through the crust of the earth as it descended toward Karion.
Daniel's armor ignited with black-violet energy, Netherborn runes crawling across its surface like living veins. The air around him shimmered with contained fury.
He whispered under his breath, half to himself, half to the system that was rewriting the world around him.
"If this is the Tower's new trial… then fine."
He raised his blade toward the crimson sky, its edge humming with chaotic resonance.
"We'll rewrite it our way."
At the same time
Thunder rolled across the land as the United Guild surged forward, banners of a hundred factions unfurling under the fire-lit heavens. The battle for the Third Gate—and the fate of Karion—had begun.
Thrakir smiled.
The fortress engines roared to life, lifting higher into the storm. The Judgment Flame behind him flared violently, casting shadows that danced like wings of devils.
Sir Maurel hesitated, stepping back in horror as the Vicar began to laugh, deep, broken laughter that carried through every hall of the garrison.
"Sound the trumpets," the Vicar commanded. "All batteries, aim for the plains beyond the capital. If the centipede will not kneel before heaven… then heaven shall fall upon it!"
Bells tolled across the floating fortress, their once-holy sound warped into something hollow.
Below, the centipede's body coiled through valleys and rivers, its tail breaking through cliffs like glass. Each movement brought it closer to Karion. Villages were swallowed whole. Forests burned in its wake.
And above it all, the Holy Vicar's eyes glowed brighter. He no longer prayed for salvation—He prayed for annihilation.
The floating garrison's cannons aligned. Holy fire gathered into massive spears of burning judgment.
"Let the world see," he whispered, raising his trembling hands toward the heavens. "That even monsters have gods."
meanwhile Deep beneath the waking world, in the ocean of screaming stars known as the Abyss, something stirred. The darkness shifted like a breathing wound, and within that endless gulf sat Thrakir, the Twisted One, a minor lord among demons, but a master of corruption and patience.
His throne was made of broken halos, his form ever-changing, half flesh and half void. Eyes blinked across his skin like lanterns in the deep, and in his hand, he held a chained skull that whispered every sin uttered by mortals.
He listened now, listened to the madness taking root in the Holy Vicar's heart far above.
A rasping grin split Thrakir's face as his minion's report echoed in his mind:
"The holy man bleeds from his faith. His prayers twist into screams. The fortress burns with our mark. The first vessel is ready."
"Excellent," Thrakir hissed, his voice rippling through the Abyss like oil through water. "Then the chain is nearly complete. All it needs now… is collapse."
Before him, an image of the mortal realm formed, floating and flickering, carved into the air by shadowed fire. He watched the corrupted fortress of Álfheim drift over Karion, glowing with unholy radiance, its commander laughing as the world trembled beneath him.
Each word the Vicar spoke, each prayer uttered through tainted faith, was a hymn to Thrakir's design.
He turned his gaze toward the legion of chained horrors kneeling below his throne, creatures that once served light, now warped beyond recognition. Their wings were skeletal, their eyes hollowed by eternal hunger.
"Soon, my children," Thrakir whispered, "the rift shall reopen. The Holy Vicar's fall is not his damnation, it is our invitation."
He reached out, touching the vision of the Vicar with a claw dripping with black ichor. The contact sent tremors across the realms. The garrison above flickered, its divine aura cracking like shattered glass.
Each holy knight that fell under the Vicar's misguided purge further weakened the veil between worlds.Each innocent life taken fed the Abyss.
And deep within Thrakir's chest, something pulsed,a heart forged not from blood, but from debt. The debt owed by the gods for sealing his kind away during the Netherborn War.
He whispered ancient words, and the air around him warped into a spiral of runes and screams.
"When the priest dies by his own hand, When the righteous drown in sacred fire,The bridge shall open. The Abyss shall breathe again."
Above, in the mortal skies, the Holy Fortress began to flicker. The cannons of judgment glowed brighter than the sun itself, even as the centipede rampaged toward Karion. The earth quaked under its fury, while the heavens prepared to fall.
Thrakir closed his many eyes and smiled.
"Go on, Arnis Feldreldre," he murmured. "Cleanse your world. And when you are done… I will purge all of your kind."