2 Recovery (1/2)
The endless fiery light eventually dimmed, allowing the deep darkness to recoup the control of its domain. The ruins were now in shambles, creating a forceful and oppressive atmosphere.
It was unknown how much time had passed, but in the middle of the chamber, the altar was still intact. Only, this time, it was empty.
...
Having written his name, Garett felt as if he was riding a carriage on a bumpy road. His body bouncing left and right, his only thought being to forcefully grab onto anything that could save him from this situation.
While signing his name on that book, he felt the scorching lights suddenly turned cold. The flames surrounding him dropped in temperature, the old book morphed into a serpent made out of shadows and forcefully entered his body through the dozens of injuries that covered his body.
”AAAAAAAAH!”
It was then that he realized, it wasn't the surroundings that were becoming colder, but his body that was getting hotter. Just like a whistling kettle, white steam came out of his pores, the multitude of cuts that shrouded his body were closing at a speed visible to the naked eye!
That's what I get for trusting a weird, old book! The pain is worse than when I was being burned alive!
And as suddenly as it came, it went. The torturous pain vanished after healing his injuries, restoring him to top condition.
After a few seconds of continuous silence, he could hear an unexpected sound.
Hiss!
And then, a thousand black snakes crawled out of the old book, as if they were made out of ink!
And from the book they came, crawling up his skin and engulfing him in ink! The old book started to turn incorporeal, its contents becoming the fiendish snakes that engulfed him!
”Hiss” They hissed as if trying to convey some meaning, and without waiting for his answer, started to enlarge and fuse, turning into a humongous snake!
”Wait! Wait for just a second! What do you think you are doing to-!”
The serpent opened its huge maw, its teeth, while seemingly ethereal, looked as sharp as razors! And then, with a woosh, it pounced on him, swallowing him whole.
Hiss!
And then it dissolved in shadows of the ancient altar as if it were never there in the first place. The only remaining thing in that chamber was the blinding, scorching lights sent by the executor, and even those would eventually dim.
...
”That should do the job. Let's go, lads, it's almost noon! It's been a long time since I've been to Lhûn, and I want to have a nice, warm bath before setting out again.”
Lurmon spoke in a soft voice as if everything couldn't be more normal. The young recruits looked to one another, a majority of them shrugging, it wasn't wise to go against the Executor's whims.
”Sir, shouldn't we, at least, go down there and look around?” The young recruit raised his voice once more, still talking with his head down, showing his utmost deference to the middle-aged Executor.
”Oh, trying to tell me how to do my job once more, young Crold? Perhaps the esteemed family of knights now wants to stretch its paws to the church as well?”
Lurmon spoke with severity while approaching the young man, his presence, heavy as a mountain, pressed down on the squire.
”The Crold's loyalty to the kingdom shouldn't be questioned, sire.”
The young man mustered all his courage in this reply, he had a duty to maintain his family name above all things!
”Tch.”
Scoffing, the executor then grabbed an old revolver from his holster and carelessly tossed it to ground in front of the young knight, not caring at all about a possible misfire.
”Why don't you go down there yourself? Take it, It's loaded with six bullets, blessed with holy silver; lethal to mutants. I will eagerly await the report of your great adventure! You know where to find me when you're done.”
The young knight's face alternated between different shades of red. Having to uphold the family's honor, rejecting was inadmissible! Indignance burned deep inside his heart, but there was nothing he could do.
”By your will, Executor.” The boy acquiesced in reverence, his voice didn't contain a hint of the silent wrath that burned inside his heart.
Slowly rising, he grabbed the gun and went down the thin path down the hole. Only after a few minutes did he safely arrive at the bottom, and as a result of the earlier spell, now the ruins were charred and even more destroyed.
Wow... Maybe everything is taken care of...
He trod carefully, afraid that one of the so-called mutants or any kind of trap that could still be around.
Weird, the candles and torches are still intact, all lit and not destroyed, as if they were protected by some kind of barrier.
After walking for quite some time, he finally arrived at the open chamber, a few pieces of rubble blocked the view of the whole room, but there was something intact even after everything that happened.
An Altar? To which god was this thing made? The Gods of the Age of Carnage are pretty much all dead...
He subconsciously tightened his grip on the revolver.
Approaching the Altar, he could see the confusing engravings of angels and demons, the altar stood there, spotless as if it were just cleaned.
That's weird... I didn't see the corpse of any mutant down here. There wasn't any mutant? And where's the corpse of the man who lived in the burned house?
Hiss!
Just as he was thinking about leaving and reporting to the Executor his not so exciting expedition, the hairs on his neck stood on end! An ancient presence flooded the hall, and with it, the body of a young man suddenly appeared on the altar as if he materialized out from the shadows!