CHAPTER 45
The shadowy figure took a step forward, the dim candlelight casting long shadows that danced eerily on the walls.
As it moved into the light, the Renaissance Band could see the state she was in — her clothes were in tatters, barely hanging onto her dust-covered and blood-streaked skin.
Her eyes, sunken and tired, told stories of relentless torment.
Lyra's eyes widened in shock.
Her voice trembled, filled with disbelief and relief at the same time.
"Micah?! Is that really you?"
Seraphina, despite her exhaustion, blinked hard as if trying to dispel an illusion.
"Wait... Micah? It can't be... How are you here?!"
Micah wiped blood from her mouth with the back of her hand, her expression hardening.
"Right damn I am," she muttered.
Micah
Her voice was hoarse, the edges rough like she hadn't spoken in days.
"You finally decided to come looking for us, huh? Took you long enough—26 grueling days."
Her words hung heavy in the air. Seraphina's eyes filled with a mix of guilt and confusion.
"Micah... we've been searching for you. But what happened to you? We thought you were—"
Micah cut her off with a harsh laugh, one filled with bitterness.
"Dead? Lost? Forgotten? Yeah, I figured. I would've thought the same if I were you."
Her gaze darted to the unfamiliar faces in the room — Yzavynne, Leeani, and Qarek, each of them poised and battle-worn, weapons still at the ready.
Micah's voice was skeptical as she gestured at the Renaissance Band.
"And who are these?"
Seraphina quickly stepped forward, her usual enthusiasm dampened by the somber setting.
"They're our allies, Micah. This is the Renaissance Band — Yzavynne, Leeani, and Qarek."
Her words came out in a hurry, as if trying to make up for the time that had already been lost.
Micah's eyes narrowed as she scanned each of them.
Her skepticism was palpable, the distrust etched into her features.
"Renaissance Band? The ones who fought against the Seven Kingdoms?"
She spat on the ground, wiping her mouth again.
"Forgive me if I don't roll out the red carpet. We've been suffering here while you played heroes elsewhere."
Yzavynne's expression tightened, but she held her tongue.
Leeani looked away, her fingers flexing around her crossbow as if itching for some kind of outlet for her unease.
Qarek, ever the tactician, took a step forward.
His voice was calm, but the authority in it was unmistakable.
"We're not your enemies, Micah. We're here to help. We just killed a witch who's been haunting this tower—Evelori."
The mention of the witch made Micah's eyes widen briefly before narrowing into slits.
"Evelori? You're saying you fought her?"
"Straight up killed her," Leeani confirmed, her tone sharp, almost as if she needed to convince herself of their victory.
"With the help of all of us here."
Micah's laugh was dry, void of any real humor.
"If you fought her, then you've seen nothing yet. Evelori's not the only monster in this cursed tower."
Seraphina tilted her head, confusion written all over her face.
"Wait... Micah, what do you mean?"
Micah's eyes flickered with a dark realization, but she didn't speak yet.
The silence stretched, the room filled only with the sound of their heavy breathing.
Lyra broke the tension, taking a step closer.
"Micah... where did you come from just now? We didn't see you before we came through that door. We just fought Evelori moments ago. How did you get here?"
Micah turned to face her fully, her body swaying slightly as if she were struggling to stay upright.
"What are you talking about?"
Her voice was filled with a strange mix of disbelief and horror.
"Evelori? What do you mean you fought her?"
Seraphina opened her mouth to explain, but the words died on her tongue as she looked at Micah's expression.
It was like a veil of realization had suddenly lifted—
But instead of relief—
It was horror that took its place on Micah's face.
Micah repeated, her voice barely a whisper now, sounding more afraid than before.
"What... do you mean?"
The group exchanged uneasy glances, the gravity of her question sinking in.
Had they really killed Evelori?
Or was this just the beginning of something far worse?
Micah's voice cut through the tension like a blade, her tone brisk and unbothered.
"Enough standing around," she said, snapping her head toward the group.
"Let's get out of here. These people need to be brought back to the village, right? I'll lead the way."
Seraphina's eyes narrowed, something about Micah's demeanor not sitting right with her.
"Micah," she interrupted, her voice shaky.
"Where's Killian? Why are you acting like everything that just happened is normal? Your brother... where is he?"
Lyra glanced at Micah, frowning.
"Yeah... where is he, Micah?"
Micah's face went blank, her lips pressed tightly together.
The silence dragged on, making Seraphina's heart pound louder in her chest.
She exchanged a worried look with Lyra.
There was something deeply wrong here—
And it gnawed at them like an itch they couldn't scratch.
Micah turned away from them, her back stiff, her head tilted slightly downward.
"Isn't our priority the villagers?" she said, her voice quieter now, almost detached.
"We should focus on getting them out of here... not ourselves."
Seraphina's lips parted, a thousand questions swirling in her mind, but she couldn't get a single one out.
Instead, she watched as Micah started leading the villagers down the staircase, her steps steady and purposeful.
The rest of the group followed, the sounds of their footsteps echoing off the stone walls, mingling with the soft whimpers of the villagers.
△▼△▼△▼△
As they descended the winding staircase lit by flickering candles, Yzavynne leaned closer to Qarek, her voice barely above a whisper.
"What about Kazaks and Andhur?"
Qarek didn't look at her but whispered back, his eyes scanning the surroundings.
"We'll get them later. First, we need to ensure these people make it back to the village safely. Evelori's dead... we shouldn't have any trouble coming back here once they're safe."
Leeani, overhearing their exchange, chimed in with a quiet whisper.
"I guess that works... for now."
Meanwhile, Seraphina and Lyra were walking close behind Micah, their minds racing.
Seraphina's eyes flicked to the side, trying to gauge Micah's expression, but it was hard to read.
"Micah," she started, hesitating.
"How's the village been? Do you know who's still there?"
Micah didn't turn around.
"I... I've been away for too long. It's obvious that I don't know. So, who's watching over things now?"
"Haerak's taking care of it since he recently got home with Aina," Lyra explained, her voice uneasy.
"Me and Lyra are keeping watch, and the villagers are holding on... but we've had it rough."
Micah's pace slowed, her head tilting ever so slightly as if she were listening carefully.
"Aina?" she asked slowly, the name sounding foreign on her tongue.
"Who's Aina?"
The question hit them like a punch to the gut.
Seraphina's steps faltered, and she exchanged a look with Lyra, whose eyes widened in horror.
The air grew thick with tension—
The realization dawning on them slowly—
Like a cold hand gripping their throats.
Qarek's instincts flared.
Without a second thought, he lunged forward, his knife glinting in the dim light.
He didn't hesitate.
He drove the blade straight into Micah's forehead, the sickening sound of metal piercing flesh echoing through the staircase.
Her body jerked violently, but before she could react, Qarek pulled the knife out and plunged it into both of her eyes in quick succession.
A thick, black substance oozed out instead of blood, dribbling down her cheeks like dark tears.
Lyra let out a strangled scream, stumbling back.
"What the—!?"
The figure that looked like Micah staggered, her head lolling to the side, a grotesque smile spreading across her face despite the knife wounds.
Her voice, now dripping with a sinister tone, hissed.
"Fools... you can't kill what's already dead."
Her body crumpled to the ground, the black ooze pooling beneath her.
Qarek stepped back, breathing heavily, his eyes wide with fury.
"EVELORI!" he shouted, his voice echoing through the stone walls.
"She's still here! Somewhere!"
The villagers behind them screamed in terror, stumbling back up the stairs.
The flickering candles cast long, eerie shadows, and a cold, unnatural wind began to whip through the corridor, extinguishing the flames one by one.
Seraphina's hands trembled as she stared at the lifeless body of the fake Micah.
She could still see the remnants of her friend's face, twisted into a gruesome smile, mocking them even in death.
She whispered, her voice breaking.
"What... what the hell is going on?"
Lyra clutched her bow tightly, her knuckles white.
"This... this isn't over... This is far from being over!"
Yzavynne gritted her teeth, her grip on her whipblade tightening.
"It was a trap from the start," she muttered.
"That wasn't Micah. It was a damn clone... a clone."
Leeani's eyes darted around, scanning the darkness for any sign of movement.
"Stay together," she ordered, her voice firm despite the fear creeping into her veins.
"She could be anywhere."
Qarek spat on the ground, wiping the black goo off his knife.
"Evelori," he growled.
"We're coming for you."
The eerie laughter of the witch echoed through the halls, sending shivers down their spines.
It seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere all at once—
Like the walls themselves were mocking them.
The group pressed on, their weapons drawn, their hearts pounding in unison.
They knew now they were in the belly of the beast—
And there was no turning back.
The corridor suddenly grew cold, the temperature plummeting as if a frigid wave had swept through.
Out of nowhere, a thick, black substance oozed from the walls, trickling down like the stone itself was bleeding.
The villagers, who had been frantically scrambling up the staircase, came to a sudden halt.
Their eyes widened in terror as they watched the door at the top of the stairs slam shut with a deafening bang.
The sound echoed in the enclosed space, making the walls shudder.
Down below, Yzavynne, Leeani, Qarek, Seraphina, and Lyra saw the same thing—the door they had just come through snapped shut as if by an invisible force, sealing them inside this cursed stairwell.
"What's happening?" one of the villagers cried, their voice quivering with fear.
Then, a chilling, disembodied voice filled the air.
It was Evelori's, dripping with malice and mocking glee.
Her laughter slithered through the walls like the black ooze, winding around them, sinking into their minds.
"Did you enjoy my little show?" Evelori's voice cooed, echoing from every direction.
"That model of Micah, one of your trusted friends... pretty convincing, wasn't it? Better than the ones I placed in your precious village. Almost seemed too realistic, didn't it? But..."
Her voice trailed off with a sinister chuckle.
"... I failed her memory. I don't even know who this 'Haerak' and 'Aina' are. HA HA HA HA! Guess I'll do better next time."
Qarek's face twisted into a mask of rage, his hands trembling as he gripped his knife.
"Evelori! Come out and face us, you coward!"
A pause.
Then, the witch's laughter filled the stairwell again, a shrill, grating sound that made the hair on the back of their necks stand on end.
"No, no, no... I won't fight as a warrior," she mocked.
"I'll fight as a witch. As the Mistress of Death—Evelori!"
Suddenly, the black substance pooling on the ground started to bubble and rise, as if drawn by an unseen force.
It spread quickly, forming tendrils that began to snake their way up the walls, creeping higher and higher.
The air filled with the stench of decay and rot, a foul odor that made everyone gag.
Leeani's eyes darted to Qarek, panic setting in.
"Shit, she's going to drown us in this stuff!" she shouted.
"Qarek! What's the plan?!"
Yzavynne whipped her head around, her usually calm expression cracking under the pressure.
"What do we do?!"
Seraphina frantically searched her pouch, her fingers trembling as she pulled out empty vials.
"I don't have any more potions!" she cried.
"Nothing that could make us resistant to drowning... and this isn't even water! It's that cursed substance!"
The villagers on the staircase erupted into chaos, their screams filling the confined space.
Mothers clutched their children, and men tried to push through the throng, their eyes wild with terror.
The black ooze was climbing fast, reaching their ankles now, burning their skin with every touch.
Lyra, breathing heavily, tried to calm the villagers.
"Everyone, stay together!" she shouted over the noise.
"Don't panic! We'll get out of this!"
But her words fell on deaf ears.
The crowd was already consumed by fear, pushing and shoving in their desperation to escape.
Children cried, their tiny voices lost in the wailing of the adults.
The smell of burning flesh filled the air as the black ooze seared their skin, the sound of sizzling flesh mingling with their screams.
Qarek's knuckles turned white as he clenched his fists.
His eyes darted around, desperately searching for any sign of Evelori.
"Evelori!" he shouted again, his voice raw with fury.
"Fuck you! Come out and face us!"
Evelori's laugh was a sickening, twisted sound.
"Oh, how cute," she cooed.
"But I'm afraid you're quite helpless now, aren't you? That's why I got rid of two of your precious friends—Kazaks and Andhur, wasn't it? I know, I know. I had a little interview with them earlier before I proceed to make them unconscious again. Don't blame my short-term memory now. The one-armed brute with a war hammer, and the scrawny one with glasses and a glaive."
Her voice grew darker, dripping with malice.
"With your war hammer boy gone, you can't just smash through these walls, can you? And without your bespectacled strategist, you won't have anyone to analyze your way out of this little trap. You three may be strong, but you're not as smart and efficient as they were."
The mention of Kazaks and Andhur sent a cold chill down Seraphina's spine.
She clenched her fists, her eyes brimming with tears she refused to let fall.
"You monster!" she spat, her voice cracking.
"You think you've won just because you caught us off guard?"
Evelori ignored her, continuing her taunting monologue.
"And you, little shaman," she sneered.
"You thought you could actually help in killing me? What a joke! And Lyra, the blacksmith."
Evelori's voice dripped with venom,
"You talk a lot for someone who's always hiding behind others."
The black ooze had reached their knees now, its touch icy and burning at the same time.
Villagers cried out in pain, some collapsing as the substance seemed to sap the life out of them.
Qarek's face contorted with fury.
He screamed.
"Evelori, you sick, twisted—!"
Evelori's voice interrupted, louder, more deranged.
"By the way," she said in a sing-song tone.
"Your friends are locked up in the highest floor of this tower. You'll love watching me dissect them later, bit by bit."
Her laughter was a shrill, ear-piercing shriek.
"And then, I'll make new models of them—a perfect one, unlike the defective Micah you just destroyed. Warriors make the best toys; their strong wills make them oh so delicious to break. HA HA HA HA!"
Qarek let out a roar of pure rage, his voice echoing through the stairwell, reverberating off the stone walls.
He thrashed against the rising ooze, his eyes wild with desperation and fury.
"EVELORI!!!"
The laughter continued, a haunting, maniacal sound that filled the darkness.
The black substance kept rising, now up to their waists, and the screams of the villagers grew louder, mingling with the mocking voice of the witch.
The group knew they had to act quickly, but they were trapped, surrounded by the dark, suffocating substance that Evelori controlled like a puppet master.
This wasn't just a fight for survival anymore—
It was a fight against Evelori's twisted games—
A fight against her vile, manipulative spirit.
And as the ooze crept higher, the group realized that the worst was yet to come.
Qarek gritted his teeth, his knuckles white as he clenched his knife.
He turned sharply to Yzavynne, Seraphina, Lyra, and Leeani, his voice strained with a mix of anger and desperation.
"We have to get out of here!" he yelled.
His eyes darted to the rising black substance, which was now up to their waists, slowly creeping higher.
The panicked cries of the villagers filled the stairwell, their fear palpable, as some tried to climb over others to escape the encroaching ooze.
But before anyone could respond, Evelori's mocking voice filled the air again, dripping with malice.
Her laughter was a high-pitched cackle, echoing off the stone walls, making the hairs on their necks stand on end.
"You can't escape," Evelori taunted.
"Just accept it. You'll die a fate far worse than any normal death. HA HA HA HA HA HA! That's why I got rid of your precious captain!" Her voice shifted to a gleeful sneer.
"Did you really think I wasn't watching? Through the eyes of the models I placed around your village, I've been watching for two years. Two years! I know everything about your pitiful lives. Your routines, your weaknesses... That goes the same for you, Renaissance band."
Qarek's face contorted in horror.
His heart pounded in his chest as Evelori's words sank in.
"With your captain gone, who's going to lead you now?" Evelori continued, her voice practically dripping with sadistic pleasure.
"And that girl with the bangs, Ruby, isn't that her name? Useless, but I got rid of her anyway! HA HA HA HA HA HA!"
Qarek's eyes widened, his fury boiling over.
"What the fuck did you say about captain and Ruby?!" he screamed, his voice raw and filled with a deep, visceral rage.
He lunged at the wall, his dagger stabbing into the stone repeatedly.
The blade chipped against the stone, leaving small cracks, but it was useless.
He knew it, but the rage and helplessness overtook him.
Evelori's laughter grew louder, filling the space with a haunting echo.
"What are you doing? Stabbing a wall?!" she mocked, her voice a high, screeching pitch that sent shivers down their spines.
"Is that your last resort before you drown in my darkness? HA HA HA HA HA!"
Qarek's breaths came in ragged gasps as he continued stabbing at the wall, his movements frantic.
Each strike was weaker than the last, the desperation clear in his eyes.
Seraphina's shoulders slumped. She turned to Lyra, her eyes filled with sorrow and a painful acceptance.
The chaos around them seemed to blur as the two women locked eyes.
Seraphina's voice wavered.
"Lyra... if this is it, if this is where it ends..."
Lyra's expression softened, a sad smile spreading across her lips.
She took Seraphina's hand in hers, squeezing it tightly.
"We've been through a lot together, haven't we?" Her voice was steady, but her eyes glistened with unshed tears.
"If this is where it ends, at least... we're not alone."
Seraphina's lip quivered, and she squeezed Lyra's hand back.
"I'm glad I met you, Lyra," she whispered.
"I'm sorry... I couldn't do more. I couldn't protect everyone."
Lyra shook her head, her voice breaking slightly.
"Don't say that. You've done more than anyone could ask for. You've been strong, Seraphina. We all have."
Yzavynne and Leeani, seeing the tears welling up in their friends' eyes, stepped closer. Yzavynne placed a gentle hand on Seraphina's shoulder.
"We're going to get through this," she said, her voice calm but firm.
"We have to believe that."
Leeani nodded, her voice softer.
"We'll find a way, Seraphina. We always do."
But despite their words, the terror in their eyes was clear.
The black substance continued to rise, reaching their chests now.
The villagers' screams became louder, their panic turning to hysteria.
The men tried to shield the women and children, but there was no escaping the encroaching darkness.
Just then, a deafening crash echoed through the stairwell.
Stone and mortar shattered as a massive greatsword smashed through the wall near them, sending chunks of rock flying.
The blade gleamed, even in the dim light, and the group instantly recognized it.
Qarek's eyes widened in disbelief.
"That's—!"
He grabbed the hilt of the greatsword with his free hand, pulling it out from the wall before the black substance could swallow it.
He held it tightly, the familiar weight bringing a sense of hope and purpose back into his grip.
Yzavynne's eyes lit up with a spark of realization.
"It's master's greatsword!"
Leeani's breath hitched, tears welling up in her eyes as she reached out to touch the blade.
"Master... He's here!"
Lyra's and Seraphina's eyes widened in shock.
Seraphina's voice was a whisper, barely audible over the sounds of panic.
"That's... Gargeal, right?!"
From outside the tower, Gargeal's booming voice rang out, clear and commanding.
"JUMP!" he shouted.
"Every single one of you, jump!"
The group froze for a moment, staring at the gaping hole in the wall where the greatsword had smashed through.
The jagged edges of the stone framed the sky beyond, the dark clouds swirling ominously.
It was at least a fifty-foot drop from their position to the ground below, but there was no time to hesitate.
The black substance was nearly up to their necks now, burning their skin, sapping their strength.
Qarek, gripping Gargeal's greatsword in one hand, looked back at the group.
His voice was fierce, filled with a renewed fire.
"We're getting out of here!" he shouted.
"We have to trust him!"
Yzavynne nodded, her expression firm despite the fear in her eyes.
She turned to the villagers, shouting over the chaos.
"We need to jump! Trust us, it's our only chance!"
The villagers hesitated, their faces pale with fear.
They looked at the drop below, then at the black ooze climbing higher and higher.
The reality of their situation sank in; it was either take the leap or drown in the darkness.
Lyra squeezed Seraphina's hand one last time, her eyes filled with determination.
"We're going together," she said firmly.
"All of us."
Seraphina nodded, tears streaming down her face, mixing with the soot and grime.
"Together."
Without another word, Qarek led the charge, gripping the greatsword as he jumped through the hole in the wall.
The others followed in quick succession, their hearts pounding as they took the leap of faith, their bodies plunging through the air.
The last thing they heard as they fell was Evelori's scream of fury, a piercing, inhuman shriek that echoed through the tower.
And then—
They were falling, the wind rushing past them—
The darkness of the tower left behind as they soared into the open air—
Gargeal's voice calling out to them below, a beacon of hope in the night.
"Now!"
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