Chapter 5: The Nameless Warrior
A young warrior with dark hair and piercing dark eyes limped forward, each step leaving blood trail across the cold stone floor. His armor was shattered—nothing more than broken steel clinging to his bloodied figure.
His body covered with the marks of a savage battle, slashes across his chest, a shattered shoulder, missing fingers. But his blood covered eyes—those cold, unwavering eyes—burned with a light that refused to die.
He was determined while wrath, and sacrifice flared within them.
In his hands, he carried a grotesque offering: the severed heads of three fallen warriors.
One of the head is of an elven woman, and the two are bearded men. They all had been once his comrades. They were his friends. They were his family and fellow adventurers who shared good meal and hard times with him. Their eyes remained open in frozen disbelief, as if still processing the betrayal that had taken their lives.
Aurelus reached the altar at the heart of the dungeon. There stood a great pedestal of golden stone carved with celestial runes and divine symbols stood in the middle.
It glowed faintly even in the darkness, pulsing with hidden power. With reverence and grim resolve, Aurelus placed the heads atop the altar and knelt, blood dripping from his body onto the ancient sigils while he chanted the summoning script from the ancient scroll they found.
As if awakened by the offering, the golden stand ignited with blinding light. The runes shimmered, pulsing with radiant heat that illuminated the pitch-black dungeon with divine fire.
The earth trembled beneath him but Aurelus refused to be shaken with it.
Stone rained down from the cracked ceiling as the sacred chamber responded to the long-awaited summoning. The atmosphere thickened—like gravity itself had multiplied—crushing the air from Aurelus’s lungs. And then—
KHIAAAA!~