Chapter 333: Arena of the Forsaken Flame
Samuel's POV
The moment I stepped through the gate, I felt it—an air too thick to breathe, a darkness not of the shadows but of memories long buried and festering. The realm on the other side of the Gate to the Forgotten God was not just desolate—it was decaying. A cathedral of ash and bone stretched high above me, every pillar etched with names long erased from mortal tongues. The sky boiled with bruised clouds, crimson lightning arcing like veins of divine rage.
And then... he appeared.
Aegror.
The Forgotten God of Ruin and Regret.
He emerged from the storm like a living apocalypse, half-corpse, half-storm. His face was a jagged mosaic of sorrow and fury, hollow eyes glowing with the hatred of millennia. His voice cracked like stone torn apart.
"Another mortal. Another fool seeking glory from ruin."
I cracked my neck and stepped forward, unfazed. "Nah. Not here for glory." My fists tightened inside my favorite gauntlets, Abyssfangs, the metal humming with Voidflame. "I'm here for a challenge... and you look like the perfect wall to punch through."
Aegror's form twisted, ribs breaking through skin, wings of bone flaring out like shattered halos. He raised a hand and the entire world trembled.
"Then drown in what you seek."
With a scream that turned the wind to knives, he charged—and so did I.