Chapter 136: Captured (2)
The corridors they walked through were as dilapidated as the prison cells. The walls cracked and eroded over the years without repairs, emitting a strong, musty odor of mold and a faint, lingering scent of blood. The wooden doors, unlike the prison cells they had been in, were riddled with holes and slashes from weapons, indicating a past battle.
Black roots were growing through the broken walls and ceilings. The floors were cracked and broken, missing large sections of stone, creating an uneven surface that required careful navigation. The more Aurora saw, the more she noticed the similarities in its architecture to medieval human castles.
She noticed the emptiness of the corridors in addition to the building's interior. Just the four of them, walking together with no zombies, guards, or others in sight, on their way to an unknown destination.
Is their number not as large as it seemed? I couldn't clearly see the zombie's size. I doubt it would make a difference. She observed the knight at the front, with his back turned. Could we launch an attack? Can we escape with these cuffs?
The knight had a lean physique, striking a balance between strength and speed. She estimated him to be a few inches taller than her, even with the torn boots he wore. But what caught her eye the most was his right shoulder, where the armor appeared to have been chewed away. A bite-sized piece of flesh was missing, revealing the bone underneath.
Could I defeat him? His arm lacked muscle compared to the zombies who carried them. If she ambushed him and attacked his right side, could she do it without using dark energy? A physical battle in cuffs. He would steal the advantage from her the moment he used dark energy.
It's too risky. She couldn't be sure if his wound affected his physical strength, but she doubted it would impact his use of dark energy. The constant rattling sound of these cuffs made an ambush impossible.
Aurora glanced at the knight behind them. He was muscular, taller, and had no bite marks or missing sections on his armor. He affirmed her earlier choice. They wouldn't succeed, but could they escape in these chains and knights on both sides, with unknown strengths?
We have a better chance, but it's not worth it. It might worsen our current situation. Her eyes drifted to Amia, who gestured for her to wait and let it play out.
As they reached the final prison cell in the corridor, they paused at a stairwell. The tower stairs spiraled downward in a corkscrew fashion. The knight ahead halted and pivoted.
"This is our stopping point." The knight spoke, his mouth twitching at the corners. "The Lord has asked to see you alone. Follow these stairs, and you'll meet him."
He moved aside to let them pass, but raised his arm, halting them. "If you try anything, you'll lose your life. Even without restraints. Be on your best behavior if you want to survive another day." With that, he lowered his arm and allowed them to pass.
Even without?
The spiraling descent made Aurora dizzy, exacerbated by the stairs, which felt like an endless purgatory of stairs, which was harder with her chains chafing her wrists and ankles. But she maintained her pace while keeping her eyes on the interior. The small slot windows were present for a little before disappearing, giving her the impression of being underground.
Do you see any escape options if things go wrong? Aurora sought Amia's perspective. She had no luck finding anything usable, but Amia might have.
[No luck either. They repaired the castle enough to prevent invasions and facilitate escape. What is certain is that the deeper we go, the lower our chances become. Up or down. One path leads to the knights above, where our chances are slim, while the other path leads to their leader, where our chances are unknown.]
Down it is, then.
And just as they grew weary of descending into the eerie depths, they reached the bottom. It was at this point that things became intriguing.
The stairs led to a chamber. It was a spacious cavern, more fitting for a bedroom than the castle hall they had anticipated. Stalagmites, as smooth as the walls, were carved into pillars resembling zombies. They all exuded a royal air.
Below where the Warlord was rumored to be, there was a bed. However, what caught her eye was a stone table across the room, similar in size to a kitchen table on Earth. Behind the table, a human sat.
A young man with flushed skin and a light gray undertone. Dirty, disheveled long gray hair, and piercing green eyes. He wore chainmail armor that was interlocked with leather armor. A large, partially rusted steel sword leaned against the wall behind him.
No, he is not human. Is he similar to us? A zombie?
"Please, have a seat." The man gestured, and two stone chairs rose from the ground in front of him. "We have much to discuss, both of you."
Not that either.
Based on the dark energy he had wielded and the knights' loyalty, he had to be their leader. But on occasion, Aurora heard a faint thump from his chest. A heart that beat, stopped, and started again in an endless cycle, but it didn't faze him.
Some sort of half-zombie, half-human hybrid then. A living zombie.
"Take a seat." He urged, sounding more like an order than an offer. His brow twitched as he gestured towards the chairs again. "You'll leave here alive and in a better position than when you came. I can guarantee that. If I wanted you dead, would you still be standing there with your heads attached in my chamber?"
Aurora hesitated, unmoving, her eyes darting around as she examined the room. No matter how hard he tried to persuade them, she didn't trust his words.
"You leave me no c—" His words faded as she noticed a black flicker across his eyes before everything turned black, and then...
She woke up sitting in the chair he had gestured to.
What did he do? Aurora frowned and shivered. She felt sweat prickling down her back, despite lacking the ability to feel or produce bodily fluids. She gripped the armrest, digging her fingernails into it. She felt no pain in her palm or forearm as she applied intense pressure until it cracked. A small piece fell and shattered on the floor.
I didn't feel this when confronting Lethia. She regained as much composure as she could, glanced at Amia, saw her in a similar state, turned, and locked eyes with the Warlord. Did he control my body? For a moment, I lost...
"Do not test my patience." The Warlord's voice was icy. When he resumed speaking, his voice returned to normal. "Two matters have been brought to my attention. Do you know what they are?"
"No, sir." Their lips moved involuntarily.
"I see. Let's start with the first issue. Correct me if I'm wrong. You emerged from a vampire's camp filled with zombies. A new camp, Lethia, the Blood Princess created near the Midlands border. You managed to evade her control, plan an attack, and defeat her."
"That's correct, sir." Their lips moved again.
"How did you kill her? Your plan, as well-thought-out as it may be, should have failed, but it didn't. Explain how it worked without excluding any details. Only the one who killed Lethia should speak. Am I clear?"
"Yes."
Aurora revealed it. She attempted to resist, but it was futile. "I used my innate skill: Imagination Creation. The skill enables me to bring to life any idea I envision, requiring sufficient dark energy and an average understanding of the concept. In this case, I used it to create a weapon called the 'Bane of Existence' to kill Lethia while she was distracted; I stabbed her through the heart."
"Did you use this to survive the Crescent Moon as well?" The Warlord asked, raising his brow.
"Yes."
"Can 'Bane of Existence' be created to be used against other races?"
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