Chapter 312 The Secret of Avalon — The Price of Will and the Legacy of Abacomancy
Avalon Underground Temple, Elysvarre
Midnight, two days after the first night
Below the magnificent Elysvarre palace lies an ancient stone corridor, intricately carved by their ancestors centuries ago. The sound of dripping water punctuates the silence, creating an eerie atmosphere as if dark secrets and alienation are entombed within those stones.
There, Sheena holds a magic lantern emitting a soft blue glow beside Fitran, who stands ready to summon the legendary power of Excalibur at any moment. The damp, foul smell of the wet earth stirs memories of an ancient curse that resides within the darkness of this corridor, and each step they take feels increasingly heavy, a haunting reminder of the tragic fate that awaits should a wrong decision be made.
"This place..." Fitran whispers, his breath echoing in the silent corridor, "feels like a prison cave. We must be cautious; the curse lurks at every step we take."
Every word spoken reverberated off the cold stone walls, creating a resonance that enveloped them in an unsettling embrace. The air in the temple felt heavily laden with untold secrets, echoing the curse that bound them; the damp aroma mixed with the scent of aged earth heightened the eerie atmosphere, serving as a chilling reminder of the dark tale that had haunted generations.
Sheena nodded slowly, her golden hair cascading down to her shoulders. Her heart raced as if communicating with the latent power within this temple. Outside the silent corridor, time seemed to pause, anticipating a pivotal moment that would change their fate.
"Once, the rulers named it the Vault of Pactum, where all secrets are hidden, embodying the intertwining of history and fate. And here I..." Her voice trembled, "will reveal everything to you." She felt the weight of a complex history filled with sacrifice and curses, intricately woven into the fabric of their existence. Each step they took retraced a path once trodden by their ancestors, where their decisions could dictate their own destiny.
They stopped before a massive stone door adorned with ancient carvings of the almost-forgotten Proto-Speech script:
"Velos Krath — Pactum Noctis,"
"The Pact of Night"—two words encapsulating not only promises and threats but also the formidable power contained within the shrouded depths of darkness.