The wasteland of the Haven Cluster breathed rot and magic.
Every gust of wind carried a low drone, the dying breath of a world that had forgotten sleep. Trees grew from the ground in agonized shapes. Half of them were flesh, half rock and the earth beneath their roots pulsed faintly, red as open wounds. The wood lived, and every beat of it breathed corruption.
Lucifer's mount was a black drake-beast, its scales reflecting a polished obsidian sheen. Steam hissed from its nostrils with every step, and the air was thick with the reek of mana decay. Twenty individuals trailed him through the blight. Seventeen students from Valkarion Academy and the Vagrant Moon Tribe, and Caelyra, whose peaceful presence was the only source of light in that noxious darkness.
Her mount, a spectral stag of shining bone-white light, paced Lucifer's drake like a phantom from another age. Each step its hooves made left behind circles of shining mana that were quickly devoured by the forest floor. Her eyes were staring, though the air nipped and scorched the lungs.
Lucifer's left hand faintly glowed with wavering lines of the Law Script he had carved into himself. A desperate attempt to bypass the ruined ley lines between Atherra and Haven Cluster quickly. The backlash still gnawed at his nerves, but there was no time for rest. Ahead of them, on the far horizon, black storms churned like inverted suns. That was where the four dungeons slept.
"Four dungeons of Apocalypse… lain beneath one sky," Lucifer whispered. "Even deities fear what sleeps within."
They moved along the ridge of the Scar Plateau, an endless stretch of seared rock and naked trees. Now and then, the ground exhaled a small blue mist with hints of death. Menace hummed in the air. It was there, unannounced, that the creatures struck.
The first roar split the silence like thunder.
A cluster of twisted forms burst from the fog. They were once mana beasts, proud and beautiful, now warped abominations. Their flesh shone with broken sigils, and their eyes were vacant lights of hungry violet.
" Into Formation! Now!" Lucifer's voice cut through the chaos.
The party reacted in a moment. Mages at the rear, warriors in the forefront, and Caelyra leaped off her stag, bowstring already drawn taut. Light exploded from the runes on her arm. The Sylvan Soul Archer, a forgotten divine combat path since the last Divine-Abyssal War.
Lucifer raised his hand, and dark sigils exploded around him.
[Soul Chain — Black Grasp]
Tendrils erupted from his shadow, whipping through the air and latching onto the nearest beast. The tendrils pulsed as they fed, sucking mana and life from the beasts until their screams went hollow.
Caelyra's arrows shot like stars, each humming with spirit resonance. Every shot she fired shredded the corruption, purifying small patches of the field. Their comrades fought and died around them; the ground was damp with blood and blue flame.
Hours passed. The fight was no longer a battle but a ritual of survival. Two of their men were torn in half by a serpent with scales of molten iron. Three others bled, their mana cores broken. The rest fought like ghosts driven by desperation. They fought.
When the final beast dropped, the forest blazed in a diseased blue light. The bodies of the animals disintegrated into ash that dispersed before it could reach the ground. Lucifer was in the middle of it all, his coat charred, his arm seeping with blackened blood.
"If these are merely the guardians on the outside." he whispered, his voice subdued, "what lies within those dungeons?
Caelyra stepped nearer, her breathing steady although her arms ached.
"You said the UEU called them Apocalypse Dungeons?"
Lucifer nodded. "They were sealed after the Divine-Abyssal War of Haven Cluster. They feared what would crawl out. It can be anything."
The drake-beast quietly hissed, agitated. The air had shifted to thinner, sharper, as if the world itself was waiting.
By sunset, the group reached the base of an ancient cliff. Four monoliths towered before them, black as night and humming softly with godly vibration. They were gargantuan. Each one inscribed with seals that blinked between reality and dreams.
"East. West. South. North," Lucifer breathed, tracing the sigils with his eyes. "Each one a doorway."
Caelyra's voice was barely audible. "It's as if they're… expecting us."
They are," he replied succinctly. His magical sense brushed the seals and recoiled. The characters were beyond mortal languages. A seeping chill came into his bones, like recognition. Something beyond was acquainted with him.
They had not moved another step when light filled the clearing. From the darkness of the ridge came another party of twenty strong awakened. Soldiers with the sigils of the kingdoms of Atherra, priests of the Sun Empire, and mercenaries who sought divine favor. Greed and fear gleamed in their eyes in equal measure.
The two sides glared at each other across the clearing for a long time, nobody speaking. The space between them became thick with tension. Everyone knew what this was: cooperation, or butchery.
Lucifer's gaze swept over all of them, his expression unreadable.
"Let's hope they're smarter than they appear," he said under his breath.