Shadow of the Abyss

Chapter 227: The Dark Curse II

"It's finally ready, m'lord," shrieked one of the Defiled towards the ceiling, his abhorrent eyes writhing madly within their sockets. Around him, bodies lay mutilated, torn asunder in a blood-stained festival of entrails, lungs, hearts, and human skin cut so cleanly no tear could be seen. They were all organized, forming a sort of barbaric ritual.

At the center hovered a golden edge dagger, stained red. Red with the blood of Altair Blackwood.

"M'lord, we offer you his blood," The Defiled One exclaimed, wrapping his arms around his chest. He moaned, bathing in the blood mist. "The Blood of Altair Blackwood is now yours."

A dim scarlet glow pulsated from the golden edge of the ritualistic dagger. It swirled, pulling at the tendrils of blood along the blade, drawing it into the metal until only its mirrored surface remained.

The Defiled One kowtowed. "Shall Teivel commence phase two, my Master?" he peeked up at the glowing dagger, observing the way systematic glimmers echoed from off the dagger before it faded, sliding through the stone like water, stopping at the hilt with a ding. "Yes, my Master. As you command."

Teivel rallied an ecstatic cry and lunged for the dagger, clutching it for dear life. His eyes glittered as the echo of a heartbeat sounded.

Badump Badump Badump

"Yes… Yes… my Lord. Before this Festival Ends. Altair shall be plunged into the depths of the Crucible. You've my word, m'lord. I shall not fail you." He whirled, his lips arched into a bright giddy smile as his eyes were drawn towards the head of his comrade, Trivor.

He was crying, his face contorted with such agonizing pain words could not seem to escape his lips. How or why was he still alive after being skinned alive before being decapitated? He wasn't sure. But the pain all remained. He could still feel it. Could still taste the blade the Defiled one released within his mouth, laughing.

It was the same for the others… they were all watching. All alive in a sort of sick, sadistic nightmare.

"What lovely tears," said Teivel, lifting the contorted face of Trivor. And with his long serpent-like tongue, he sampled the bloodied tears from off Trivors, allowing his tongue to enter through the eyelids to savor every inch of his eye. He stringently moaned like a man deprived of water, "Delicious. Absolutely sublime. You taste wonderful. Don't worry.

When I plant you within the Lake of Rot, I'll make sure to water you with your family's blood. Two boys and a little girl, right? Whether you grow will be up to whether or not all nine generations of your family are alive. Finger crossed."

***

"We found him," Ragnar said, entering through the threshold into the throne room. "Looks like he was the one who combated one of the Soul Kings."

Those that bore the Sigil of the Crimson Spear showed no reaction, though the same could not be said of those within. Zaros, Yalivor Sadu, Vynn, and Ariane turned white, with only Zola Ironblood beaming.

"They are in the Southern Tower right now. Seems like the Black Knights of Bahamut attacked Altair before he finished one of them off."

Yalivor Sadu's fist clenched, unable to stop the sensation of inferiority from oozing around his heart. He had spent the better part of a decade training until he puked and shit blood. He had tempered his body and soul to a level most humans could not imagine… yet there was now another who showed himself to be superior.

Ragnar and Zaros could relate. It wasn't enough to be a genius. The Myriad Heavens had countless. Resources, Teachers, Techniques, luck, and family were essential keys to success. Gone were the days when anyone could simply rise without the aid of another. With the addition of gods aiding various high-value assets, it wasn't enough to merely stand out.

One needed backing to ensure success.

Why else would a god offer a blessing if they knew their acolyte would simply die to some random assassin or worse after a challenge had been issued?

The silence throughout the Throne Room ate at the minds of everyone, leaving them hollow. Until Yalivor Sadu lifted his head, finding his smile once more.

"Then we can assume Glynn has switched sides. Or at least has been asked by his Patreon to aid the one Altair saw to slay." he was convinced, narrowing his eyes. "Lady Ariane, is it possible to inform the Watchers to have Ser Glynn slain should he make himself known again?"

Ariane nodded. She had been the only one given authority over the Heavenly Constructs due to being the one to perform the ritual towards her Patron God.

"I'll see that it's done. But that leaves you two." She turned an eye towards the muffled men, lined with dozens of worn gauze draped around their faces. She could feel their power. Each of them was Six Circles that appeared out of nowhere. "Isn't it time you reveal who you are?"

"No."

There was a flicker of angelic light as two Golden Watchers phased through the ceiling walls, landing by her side. Ariane's expression turned cold.

"You'll answer, or I'll ask your tainted souls."

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Yalivor Sadu frowned, lifting a palm, conjuring an intricate weave of runes.

"Water Prison"

Just then, those of the Crimson Spear stood in gaping astonishment as water molecules both within their bodies and outside froze. The outline of a cubical domain surrounded them.

"Your appearance was tolerated but no more, not after Ser Glynn's betrayal." He continued, opening his palm, revealing a cube with the mirrored image of the two inside. Yalivor Sadu began to close his palm, compressing the walls of his spell.

Blood began to thicken, turning their fingers to the sizes of sausages. Their eyes began to grow enlarged, nearly popping out of their sockets as they desperately tried to channel enough Mana in order to break out of his spell. However, to their astonishment, they were unable to move their bodies. The water… within their bodies didn't allow it.

'Is he transfiguring the water?' Ragnar thought, wondering about the spell applications. 'What an interesting sorcery. It ought to be strong enough to kill people at his level or slower, with the added benefit of slowing those that are stronger than him. Not bad.'

"I'll ask once more," Yalivor Sadu said, narrowing his eyes, revealing the inhuman slits within his pupils. They stood like vicious scars bleeding arcane light. "Who are you?"

Still, the two remained silent when, from the doors, cruel laughter spilled into the air. Yalivor Sadu whirled, catching sight of a sword arc beaming towards his head. The speed of the sword arc had been so terrifying. His back bent into the shape of a bow as he dodged.

"Oh? You were able to keep up concentration even after that?" Teivel laughed, entering through the threshold, gripping a Great Scimitar on his shoulder. Its edge engraved in a sleeve of ancient runes. He was delighted, seeing as Yalivor Sadu returned upright.

"Behind you."

Yalivor Sadu didn't have time to react when he saw the sword arc that had whipped past him somehow redirect itself, slashing through his shoulder and lopping off the arm from the base. He paled, letting loose a cry following the searing heat pulsing from his arm. Perspiration dripped from his brow like rainfall, staining his robes a vibrant red.

The Water Prisom shattered, and with it, the residents housed within were released.

"Water Dragon King," Teivel spat, the disgust evident. "What good is your god and Master if he can't even teach you the basis of all life?" he sneered, annoyed his foes hadn't even developed a basis of a Spirit Domain. "

"Who the hell are you!" Vynn voiced, his sword poised for combat.

"I don't talk to mutts." And his eyes darted towards his rear towards Syris cloaked in white lightning. "But you… I can have fun with you within the Lake of Rot."

Syris drew in on him, gripping her dagger; the white lightning, a fusion of Ice and Lightning, crackling around her. Layers of frost swelled throughout the throne, coiling up the arms of ally and foe alike.

"Surrender or die... Even if you possess a domain. You will not survive us all."

"I can see it… you've got an outline already," Teivel teased when he glanced towards other members of his group. "Return to the Crucible."

Without warning, the two pulled out daggers, slitting their necks without the slightest hesitation, startling everyone present. They watched in narrowed disbelief as the blood spewing out their throats began overflowing down their bodies, consuming them in red.

Syris recognized the spell and activated her Movement Technique.

[Void Step]

Expending nearly half her Mana, she blinked through space, slashing through his head just as the other sunk into the pool of his blood, gone.

"The Mark of Cain… You bastards are Defiled," she said, with a sense of dread coiling around her chest.

'Spacial Manipulation,' Teivel thought, growing a tad bit wary.

"So you know who we are."

"I know you all too well…" she said, recalling the day she saw fear on her father's face for the first time. Never before had he shown such terror than the day that the Lord of Murder descended in a crackle of lightning. "You are an acolyte of the first killer."

Teivel chuckled, taking a whiff of the air. His eyes radiating endless joy. "A Celestial… No. A High Celestial. How fun. I've never gotten the chance to defile a Celestrial.

Much less a halfbreed like you! How fun! How FUN!!!!"