Chapter 95: Round 2
Arthur’s lungs burned as he staggered forward, sweat cascading down his face and neck, soaking the collar of his already damp shirt. His eyes—wild with desperation—continued to scan the dimly lit room he had burst into moments ago.
’Come on, come on...’
He took several more unsteady steps, squinting through the gloom. The flickering torchlight cast long shadows across ancient stone walls. He needed to find him. Needed to find Aziel.
A large, calloused hand clasped his shoulder firmly from behind.
"Arthur, stop," Jonas’s deep voice resonated with urgency. "We need to hurry back. We can’t separate from the group. Let’s go."
But Arthur didn’t respond, barely registering his words. He continued his frantic search, revisiting the same corners, the same alcoves, the same shadowed recesses—examining them over and over, hoping against hope that something would materialize before his eyes.
"Arthur, let—" Jonas began again, but his warning was cut short by the thunderous slam of the wooden door behind them, the sound echoing ominously throughout the chamber.
"Damn it," Jonas spat, spinning around toward the sealed entrance.
It was only then, in that momentary stillness, that Arthur truly allowed himself to see the room. As if a veil had been lifted from his eyes, the familiar details crystallized in his consciousness: the high ceiling, the scribings on the wall, the altar...