The Forsaken Hero

As the tingles of teleportation faded away, I opened my eyes to a world of winter. The Gate entrance crystal hovered in the center of a circular cavern made entirely of opaque ice. The walls and ceiling held countless mirror-like facets, reflecting the flickering torchlight of Enusia’s forces around the room. Overall, the room was nearly identical to the Fire Gate’s proportions and look, save for the bitter cold permeating the dry air.

But before I even noticed the cold, my gaze was drawn to the thick currents of Infernal Energy saturating the room. They curled and twisted around the soldiers, slowly drinking in their fear and trepidation. The moment my feet touched the ground, a ripple passed through the fog of mana, and it drew towards me, flowing across the ground like viscous water. It called to me, curling around my slender body like mist, caressing my soul with gentle tendrils.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, inhaling the raw, chaotic mana. My skin tingled and my horns itched, my body growing extremely sensitive. I could feel every pulse of blood through my veins, every current of mana through my soul. For the first time in weeks, the constant pain of my shattered soul faded, lost in the seductive pleasure of the Infernal Mana.

It was curious, though. At the Western University, Infernal Mana burned like fire in my soul, naturally rejected by my own mana. Slowly since then, it had begun behaving erratically, even seeking me out and actively responding when I purified the wolf. It was like a switch had gone off in my soul, and now Infernal Mana felt as comfortable as my own.

"Xiviyah?"

I exhaled slowly, basking in the sensation for a moment longer before returning to the present. Captain Bethiv gazed at me, a slight wrinkle on his forehead.

"Is everything alright?" he asked.

I nodded and took another look around the entrance room. The Last Light Company was the last group through, taking up their assigned position as the rear guard. Even after the battle with the infernal creatures and demonkin, they were several hundred strong. As their mages finished bestowing protection from the frigid air upon the soldiers, Bethiv gave the order to advance.

The entire gate seemed to be made from the same thick ice, but the dungeon was so cold moisture was unable to accumulate, leaving the ground very stable. Adaptive Resistance’s protection enveloped me like a blanket, warding off even the coldest gust of wind, only allowing my breath to freeze once it left my lips.