"Oh... My, what a grand welcome, don't you think, Alan?" Armis sneered, vile confidence and a sinister smile dripping from his demonic lips. As his enchantment faded, the stillness and golden glow of the giant gate gave way.
Unlike the others they had encountered, this gate did not crumble but opened with regal creaks, revealing grandeur. The golden air was replaced by choking sulfuric fumes that greeted Armis's contorted gaze and Alan's hazy eyes.
It was no mere chamber, nor the temple the inscription spoke of. Instead, it was the lair of something truly vile and scorched with evil.
Armis's smirk widened into awe as he beheld the starry night sky—a sight only his demonic gaze could perceive. To Alan, the roof of the enormous stony lair was nothing but choking dark clouds.
Below, something even their dread-riddled minds could not have imagined—a mountain kissing the dark sky, its gaping, scorched peak revealing a volcano. Its mighty presence pulsed beneath their feet, the floor riddled with glowing, scorched veins, puffing out fumes of poison and death.
The walls were no different, each inch covered with rocks holding the shapes of damned souls, petrified by the judgment of their evil. Every inch of the scene before them epitomized their hellish journey, their endless suffering. What greeted them at the top floor of Relic Castle was nothing less than hell itself.
"Hmmm... quite a view," Armis remarked, taking in the scorching scenery before him. His eyes squinted in focus as he continued, "Can't see no King here, nor any temple... wait a minute, look, Ala—"
Armis's scrutinizing gaze found what he sought: at the heart of the dark, scorching volcano stood a giant entrance, extending a ramp for every arriver's eagerness, which also filled Armis as he turned to Alan to share his discovery, but his words halted when he saw a shadowy figure, deformed and human-like, coalescing around Alan's limp body, eliciting pained groans from his shivering lips.
—STOMP!—Shriek!
Without hesitation, Armis stomped violently on the shadow's dark limb, causing it to recoil from Alan in shrieking agony. As he raised his eyes, the heavy air around them suddenly filled with faint, piercing groans from an overwhelming number of dark shadows surrounding them. The dread they brought caused nothing but annoyance to Armis, which mounted when their groans formed words, wheezing, "Go...b...ba...ckkk..."
One shadow neared his face, and Armis shut his demonic gaze for a moment before opening them into an intimidating glare. His voice, a grumbling mix of his own and something far more sinister, boomed with dark, vile strength that silenced the advancing shadows with a threat,
"ONE MORE STEP AND I WILL END YOUR ENTIRE RACE!"
His voice, his aura, the brutal strength seeping from his words, transformed the murderous intent of the beings into nothingness. Though they didn't appear sentient, their halt indicated an understanding of Armis's threat. One by one, they receded, parting to form a straight path leading toward the volcano.
Even Alan's weary form felt the intimidation of Armis's demonic presence before his body began to writhe, wheezing and groaning in pain as Armis dragged him across the near-burning floor.
But Alan's eyes remained focused, if not amazed, by the eerie and terrifying sight. Without any command, the shadow beings standing on either side knelt before Armis, as though surrendering or showing respect to his power in their own vile way.
Whatever it meant, it brought back his sinister smirk, causing Alan, who wished for his hanging life to end, to close his eyes and endure the constant burning sensation. Suddenly, his writhing stopped, and he felt his body rising slowly before a sudden, overwhelming pressure of air opened his eyes. His limp body contorted and thrashed around, and in a moment of disorienting vision, Alan saw a grand entrance made of gold with a stone ramp protruding out, emanating a dark, repugnant odor and overwhelming pressure that rivaled Armis's if not more.
With a swift movement, Armis landed on the platform, dropping Alan's body on it like luggage. His smirk never faltered as he didn't bother to check Alan's condition from the fall. Driven by sinister eagerness, he dragged Alan's body forward, walking into the towering entrance and basking in the blinding glow that betrayed the darkness awaiting them. After a moment of blinding light, which put no strain on Armis's demonic gaze, he saw what greeted him beyond the shiny entrance: the Temple of Jupiter.
A grandiose hall inside the heart of the volcano, its walls carved into statues of towering individuals adorned with divinity, each statue speaking of detailed craftsmanship. The floor held the same scorching veins, but it wasn't hot. Despite what Alan had felt before being dragged inside, now he no longer felt any dark pressure, nor was there scorching heat burning his body on the similar floor of the temple.
The temple was unlike any of the other chambers of the Lords of The Monsters. It wasn't littered with infinite wealth or alluring materials but was decorated with relics and armaments that spoke of prideful dignity. Despite all this, none of it could diminish the eerie scene unfolding at the temple's center. True to its position as the heart of a volcano, there was scorching heat and lava—not in the earth's womb but in a giant, darkened pot suspended high in the air. It looked up towards the volcano's opening, greeting Armis with a sight that even his scrutinizing gaze hadn't encountered until now.
The pot blew out thick fumes, scorching heat, and a burning illumination, but what it absorbed held Armis in eerie amazement. It was souls, merged into a writhing, shrieking darkness, feeding the core of the scorching pot. Their pained and agonizing cries filled the heavy sulfuric air. From the scorching, pulsing platform that held the pot, a dark stony stairway led down to a giant throne—dark as its surroundings yet sculpted with regal detail suited for a king of kings.
Sitting on the throne was a silent, imposing figure, its presence as nil as nothingness. The towering form rested, his head leaning to the side, with mystical, long locks shrouded in darkness. Resting upon a fist, his entire muscular and elongated body was fitting for a ruler, covered in etchings on his somewhat blue-tinged skin. The etchings matched those on Armis's armor, yet they felt different—deeper, more detailed, and divine. His lower body was draped in loose, regal cloth, revealing the silhouette of his giant leg, one resting atop the other.
His whole presence, unnoticed until now, suddenly filled Armis with apprehension, faltering his nonchalance. He focused his demonic gaze while Alan's hazy vision barely registered the regal existence before them. Yet somehow, a lingering familiarity of dread crept into Alan. He began to open his eyes more, trying to see the figure clearly before his eyelids shut from pain again. When Armis placed him on the temple floor, he spread his own body slightly, holding a faint defensive stance before the calm yet imposing presence before them.
He knew, he felt that something was about to happen, some horror ready to lunge at him the moment he looked away from the reflection of the individual before him. But suddenly, his doubts and suspicions became dumbfounded; his dread and apprehension turned into confusion and puzzlement when the individual broke the silence.
Betraying his appearance, his voice emerged amused and welcoming, loud but not threatening. Armis blinked in disbelief as he saw the figure jolting out of his throne, spreading his arms in welcome. Despite the scars and bones protruding with the experience of ages, his visage held no sinister intent as he spoke,
"WELCOME, RAIDER! Welcome to the epitome of your existence!" His voice rang through the temple, echoing off the carved walls. Moving ahead with a grace that defied his presumed character, he strode softly towards Armis, continuing his grand greeting,
"Oh, dear traveler, grant me the honor to compliment your efforts by welcoming you to the fulfilling end of your dread, the satisfying conclusion of your every conflict, the calming end of chaos. I welcome you, my child, to the completion of your despair, the fitting end of your constant suffering, the hope that pulled you through everything vile. Welcome to my domain, the Temple of the True God!"
He stopped just steps before Armis and Alan, holding his head high in silence after the grand welcome, his hands raised higher than his gaze.
No longer did his appearance overwhelm Armis with anticipation and apprehension; instead, it was the heavy cringe from the sudden change in the environment. Armis felt pressured by the imposing, expectant pose of the regal and mighty individual before him. Gritting his teeth in confusion and annoyance, he blurted out what first entered his suddenly rumbled mind,
"D-Don't you mean Gods?"
"Huh?" The man lowered his head, looking at Armis with furrowed brows, gasping.
"You know…" Armis glanced around, hinting at the sculptures of the divine individuals surrounding them before continuing, "Temple of the Gods?"
Suddenly, the welcoming expression on the being shifted to one of serious grimness. He leaned down, his locks floating in the air, coming inches from Armis's face. Armis looked closely, peering into the abyss of his large, dark eyes, before noticing a hint of blue in his pupils. The eerie whiteness of his eyes replaced by a fear-inducing glare that seemed to pierce right through Armis's dark soul. The man's faint blue lips moved, sending a tone that, for a moment, brought back the dread of the air,
"What do you speak of, child? There are no other gods in this temple but me. I am the god that was, that is, and that will be."
"Seems pretty arrogant to me." Suddenly, Armis's awkwardness vanished. The soul-piercing, dreadful gaze of the man resonated with Armis's own soul, which held no fear. Armis glared back at the being with equal grimness, a hint of mockery in his words, "Pride is the biggest sin, my liege. Calling oneself a god in the presence of the actuals has pushed many into the depths of hell."
"Well, I've seen and conquered them, found none worthy to challenge my wrath, fill my greed, quench the envy, erase the gluttony, silence the lust. That is when I let my pride proclaim me as the only god there was!"
"Whatever, man… I'm only here to defeat the beast and claim my reward." Armis replied with a tone unaffected by the fear-inducing words of the man. As Armis looked back at the man's horrifying gaze, it suddenly changed again, squinting as the corners of his lips raised into a soft smile, filling Armis with returning awkwardness and confusion. The man straightened up, standing tall, and began to speak with his eyes squinted,
"Hmm, aren't you tired from the constant fighting? How about some rest, huh?"
Suddenly, the man raised his hand and snapped in the still air, commanding the visible fumes to gather between them. As he began walking away, giving way to the fumes that coalesced into the shape of a long table with hazy silhouettes of a grand feast appearing above it. His words, intended to reassure Armis, filled the air,
"And don't worry, it's not that kind of rest. Take this as your reward—for your struggles, your pain, and the brutality you've shown to reach here with a hope that transcends the very plane of your existence. Which, I am sure, would have made you hungry, right?"
With another smile, as weird and eerie as the spectacle before Armis's eyes, the silhouettes finally solidified into a lavish feast, worthy of kings. The alluring display and enchanting fragrance captivated Armis, who watched with a mix of awkwardness and faint amazement. The man took a seat at the other end of the table, gesturing for Armis to sit as well, his words followed by another eerie smile,
"I don't know about you, but more than two hundred years of lonely awaiting can sure make a king hungry, you know..."
The lavish feast was set, and though Armis's apprehension held him back, his stomach betrayed his desire. Despite being more demon than man, he couldn't escape the instincts of replenishment that came from the grumbles of his hunger.
"Please start, it is not wise to keep food waiting. Many souls here have died for it, or because of it," the man remarked, taking a bite of the steamy, fragrant soup before him. His eyes hinted at something before they lowered to his meal.
Against his better instincts, which swayed as his gaze remained captivated by the allure and grandeur of the edibles before him, Armis sat down in the other seat across the table.
Looking straight at the imposing man calmly indulging in his food, Armis took another look at the feast before him. Disbelief still lingered as most of the dishes were recognizable to his demonic gaze; they were delicacies of Pompeii, strangely and mystically appearing in this world that could only be called otherworldly.
This fact only intensified his hunger, as Armis hesitantly picked up the spoon, slowly scooping up a bite of the stew and bringing it to his bedazzled gaze. He put it in his mouth just as the man added more to his invitation, attempting to dispel Armis's hesitation.
"Don't worry, despite the mysticism and spectacle of its production, the food is very much real, my child."
As Armis took the bite, his mouth remained numb for a fraction of a second before, suddenly, along with the soothing warmth of the bite, its flavor and melting textures coalesced around his long tongue, bringing out a nostalgia that his brain had begun to bury deep in his memories.
For a moment, the still air around him began to exude the feeling of home, a warmth of familiarity. The bite traveled from his throat, diving down and mixing with his calling appetite, calming it with satisfaction and igniting it even more. With a relieved and awe-ridden remark, the hesitation in his limbs faded, and he began to gorge on the feast laid before him.
"It's magnificent!!"
Seeing Armis's caution wear off into eagerness to satisfy his hunger from the feast he had gifted, the man chuckled, taking another bite of his food. An air of pride exuded from his figure as he added to Armis's remark.
"Well, it should be. It is a feast for kings, and a reward for a hellish journey. Anything short of magnificent would be an insult."
As the two men devoured their food with contrasting manners, the sounds of chewing and the alluring fragrances of freshness and spices permeated the empty air.
These sensations finally reached the defeated mind of Alan, whose presence had remained unnoticed or rather ignored until now.
His eyes opened from the creeping starvation in his broken, wounded body. His tired throat, unable to form proper words, could only produce wheezing groans. These sounds went unnoticed by the gorging Armis but managed to capture the attention of the imposing presence across the table. The man paused mid-bite, his previously soft gaze suddenly sharpening into a glare of disgust directed at Alan's form. Placing his spoon back into the bowl, he turned his gaze soft again and, with a stern smile, addressed Armis.
"Well, I am glad that you are enjoying my welcome, but I can't ignore it any longer. Doesn't your… friend, I presume, need replenishment?"
Armis suddenly stopped his gluttonous hands, looking at the man before turning his eyes to the groaning Alan, who had begun to raise his hand weakly towards him. Armis's eyes softened for a moment as he gulped down a huge bite from his cheek. Then, turning his attention back to the food, he spoke.
L
"I think… but I am not sure that at this point even a God such as yourself can help his poor soul. He needs salvation, and I don't think it can come from any of these delicacies you have set before us."
"Well, that is a bold statement. Be that as it may, even a headless snake holds enough strength and poison to make a man meet his maker," the man said, looking at Armis with a slightly tilted head. His eyes exuded the sinister intent of his words, which seeped from a mouth holding a deceptively soft smile. This didn't affect Armis at all; he smiled back with squinted eyes before stuffing his mouth again.
"Well then, it's a good thing I have armor, right?"
Armis's reply shattered the man's feigned amusement. He averted his gaze back to Alan, who had somehow heard their conversation and managed to roll over, ceasing his groans. The man sighed, picking up his last bite. Like a well-mannered individual, he wiped his faintly blue lips with the cloth provided on the table.
"And I am done!" Armis exclaimed, followed by an unmannered burp, signaling the satisfaction of his appetite as he leaned back in his chair. The man glanced at Armis's side of the table, where empty bowls and plates were scattered, but his puzzlement deepened as Armis continued, looking directly at him.
"So, now my wish...!"
"What?" The man gasped in confusion, prompting a similar look from Armis. Realization dawned upon the man, and he chuckled, standing up from his chair. His brows furrowed in amusement as he remarked, "Uh, there is no wish, I'm afraid."
"What?!! What do you mean there is no wish?!" Armis asked back in disbelief. Following the man's ascent, he too stood up abruptly from his chair.