Ursa stood at the mouth of a massive, jagged cave, his form silhouetted against the oppressive black of Level Five. Around him, a chilling assembly of demon guards—brutes with obsidian skin, lithe, clawed assassins, and hulking enforcers—stood poised for battle. The air thrummed with their suppressed anticipation, their eyes gleaming with cold malice.
"They are close now," Ursa hissed, his voice a low, gravelly whisper that carried clearly in the otherwise silent darkness. "The sensors confirm their proximity to our prize. If they enter that cave, they will be near Edward Bloodrose. Crucified." His scarred face stretched into a cruel, triumphant grin. "And we, my loyal dogs, will be waiting. Just outside." He gestured to the cavern mouth. "When they step back out of that cave, we will kill them all. Every single one. Their escape will be nothing but a fleeting dream before their miserable demise."
A ripple of excited growls went through the assembled demons. This was the moment Ursa had planned for, the grand finale of his twisted game.
Meanwhile, inside the cave, Adam and his companions stumbled forward, the glow of the torches they had scavenged from the temple treasure cutting narrow paths through the absolute pitch black. The air was damp and cold, carrying a faint, metallic scent.
"This is it," Julian murmured, his hand already on the hilt of his sword, his ruby eyes scanning the darkness ahead. "The only way to go now."
They noticed almost immediately that the cave was just straight. No confusing twists, no deceptive turns. Just a long, unyielding passage leading deeper into the abyss. The silence was profound, broken only by their cautious footsteps and the crackle of the torches.
As they neared the end of the long tunnel, the flickering torchlight revealed a gruesome tableau. Chained and suspended against the rough cavern wall, his limbs splayed, was a man. He had long, black hair falling around a strikingly handsome face, marred only by the stark pallor of his skin and his gaunt, almost skeletal frame. His crimson eyes, though closed, hinted at an ancient, powerful slumber. His peaked ears were a clear mark of his vampiric lineage. He was terribly thin, a victim of centuries of starvation.
"Edward Bloodrose," Tom whispered, his voice filled with awe and dread.
Astrid, her eyes wide, turned to Tom. "I thought Edward Bloodrose was in a secret Level Six? You said so, Tom!"
"I thought so too," Tom replied, his brow furrowed in confusion. "All the intelligence pointed to him being beyond Level Five. This… this is a surprise."
Panchenko, ever impetuous, thrust his torch closer to the crucified figure's face. "Is he dead or alive?" he whispered, his voice trembling slightly.
Suddenly, with a jarring snap, Edward's crimson eyes flew open. They blazed with an intensity that seemed to pierce the darkness, fixing Panchenko with a cold, piercing glare.
Panchenko shrieked, stumbling back, dropping the torch. It clattered to the ground, casting dancing shadows.
Edward's voice, though raspy from disuse, was deep and resonant, imbued with an ancient power. "What do you want?"
Adam stepped forward, his heart pounding, but his voice firm. "We need your help."
A flicker of something akin to amusement, then weariness, crossed Edward's gaunt face. "Help? What kind of help?"
"Help to escape this hellhole," Adam replied, his gaze unwavering.
A low, dry chuckle began in Edward's throat, slowly building until it erupted into a roaring, echoing laugh that filled the entire cave, chilling them to the bone. "That's impossible, boy! No one escapes Kazakhar! Certainly not a collection of emaciated prisoners and a half-starved vampire!"
"No, it's not impossible," Adam countered, his voice gaining strength. "We heard about you. We know you're strong. You went toe-to-toe with Azazel, a Rank Nine High Seat demon, and came out alive. If anyone can escape this place, it's you."
Edward's laughter died, replaced by a cold, calculating silence. His crimson eyes, though still weak, studied Adam with unnerving intensity. "What exactly is your plan?"
"We free you," Adam stated, his voice ringing with conviction. "And you join us. We kill every demon here in Kazakhar. We bring this place down."
Edward's gaze drifted to the ancient, indecipherable markings on the cave walls, then back to Adam. "An ambitious plan, boy. But you fail to account for a few crucial details." He gestured weakly to his emaciated form. "I need blood to regain my strength. And I need my sword. The Bloodrose Sword. It's a blade passed down through generations of my House." He met Adam's eyes, a grim resolve entering his own. "You give me those two, and I'll help you escape. And perhaps, we can make those demons pay."