- ORIS, 9TH DUNGEON -
Darrel weaved between the undead creatures, slashing them at every opportunity he got. As he moved further into the dungeon he noticed that the number of undead monsters was starting to dwindle, and he knew that this was not because he and Luca were taking them down.
'Something doesn't feel right, where is Luca?'
With the undead no longer coming after him, Darrel noted the looming silence in the chamber. The glow from Greyan's [Leo Mortis] then faded away, but its fear purging effects lingered and kept Darrel from succumbing to any of the undead's fear aura.
"Luca? Where are you?" Darrel called out into the darkness, but there was no answer from Luca.
As he stood in the center of the chamber alone, Darrel started to wonder what had truly come over him to disregard the importance of a party formation.
"Well, that was dumb..." He muttered.
A cold gust of wind suddenly blew past him, the stench of the undead seemed to be stronger in this part of the chamber. Darrel could feel goosebumps begin to erupt across his body, this was the same fear that had paralyzed him when they first entered the chamber.
'This feeling...'
A cold hand suddenly grasped Darrel's shoulder and he immediately felt his body lose strength, something unnatural was draining his stamina and he knew he had to retreat from its cold grasp.
Unfortunately, with his stamina drained his movements slowed, and before he could react to the former action, Darrel felt another chilly hand dig into his chest. Five bony fingers wrap around his heart, his vision began to blur and he had a hard time drawing in air.
The blur in his vision turned to black and Darrel immediately woke up in a space filled with nothing but a dark canvas for a sky.
'Am I dead? No. But it feels like I am going to die. Maybe this is good.'
Darrel's thoughts wandered as the inevitability of his death seemed imminent, his disregard for its timing seemed to reassure him at first, but then the questions of his existence began to flood his mind.
'Do I have to die? I don't know if I am ready. Please I need a do-over!'
The pain of regret quickly closed in on him and betrayed his initial thoughts, Darrel recalled how he had endured suffering in a world not his own. He remembered how he was flung here without his permission and how his arrival here had been unpleasant at every moment of his stay.
In the beginning, Darrel had wanted to end it all, but he had slowly come to understand that there would be no remedy in death.
'Only more regret!'
In the darkness of Darrel's vision, a stranger's voice woke him up and he shuddered from the chill coming from outside his body. He then cautiously looked around but saw only darkness, then he proceeded to rapidly rub his hands together in order to gain some warmth.
"Where the hell am I?"
A long silence covered the atmosphere before a rumbling voice responded to him.
"You stand on the ingress between the world of the living and the world of the dead."
"The what? Wait, who are you?"
"Pointless."
The voice responded once more and this time with more urgency to its tone.
"Uum no it isn't. Listen here-"
"Silence mortal!" Streaks of lightning tore across the darkness as storm clouds brewed around Darrel. "You do not belong in this space, however, your presence here means you are about to die."
"So... I am not dead, right?"
"Indeed."
"Then please... help me!"
An ominous silence filled the space when the thundering manifestation of the voice did not speak, Darrel looked up at the dark stormy clouds anxiously awaiting some form of positive response.
A blur filled Darrel's eyes and then he began to hear heavy grunts and light thuds, when he closed his eyes and reopened them, he found himself back in the ninth dungeon. Greyan, Orimik, and Luca stood by him and were hacking relentlessly at the remnants of the undead creatures.
"What happened?"
"See I told you he was a stubborn one." This was Luca's voice, Darrel could hear him much clearer now.
"Figures. That undead probably found nothing inside him too." Greyan's jest was greeted with stern gazes. "Well, he still is a spell-less right?"
"You should be thanking him, we are still alive because of him after all." Orimik rebuked Greyan.
"What?"
Darrel was confused.
The last thing that he recalled was him struggling to stay alive after one undead tried to rip his heart out of his chest, he had also selfishly charged forward without any backup from his companions, the last they should be doing was thanking him for anything.
"Darrel we need to go now!"
Darrel tried to get up, but he could barely lift his feet, it appeared that the effects of the stamina drain were still affecting him.
"I can't move my legs."
Luca and Orimik tried to raise Darrel to his feet, but his sprawling legs made it difficult for them to move while helping him up.
"Stop wasting time."
Greyan grabbed Darrel's arm and swung him onto his shoulder like he was lifting a child, as the sounds of more undead could be heard coming in the distance.
The group ran further into the dungeon fleeing from the undead creatures that had started to revive after they had been killed by the party.
"We can't keep this up for long."
"Darrel managed to find it once, we can find it again."
"You better hope so."