Lore Heavy Chapter
Rense Loren, the Castle City of the Black Shores. Governed by Irina del Morfray, the Arc-Mage, a Sovereign title granted to those who dedicated their immortal life to the Arcane.
Making our way across the bridge, faded memories of past events swelled within my soul, Painfully clawing at my mind, my footsteps began to slow, and my mind began to wain the closer I got to Rense Loren.
I could still remember the salty wails of the Castle City seated above the Black Shores, a lake formed with the tears of the Souls of Oblivian. Corrupted by the Sin of Man and the Sorrow of Creation, the once white shores had turned a majestic black, leading Lady Morfray to name this expansive lake the Eben Sea.
It was but a small lake when I granted her this Land, bearly of relevance, but the day she took power was the day Rense Loren became a mighty power within Oblivion. She was both ruthless and talented, having the ability to outsmart the Devils of the Nines in various cases and combat the more brutish angels. She was my third strongest general but my most intelligent advisor.
Reminiscing over the salty air, I could smell from here seated on the Bridge of Realms. My footsteps came to a halt. I didn't know when but blood began to race from my nose the closer I got. Knowing I was getting close to an unknown source, I shuttered. My soul was craving the unknown, begging for it even, but for some reason, there was something in me, wishing for me to flee, to return to the Underworld where I belong.
"Hades?" Baphomet commandingly uttered, narrowing his scarlet eyes. He placed his beasted hands upon my shoulder.
Shaking my head, I pushed his hands away and continued forwards. Striving ahead with all I had, my throat began to dry, and the bitterness of copper within my mouth began to grow stronger the closer I got. I could still recall Irina's soft lips, her icy silver hair, cool to the touch. She had renamed herself when her family banished her after the slaughter when she learned of her sister's death.
Distraught, Irina had found herself within my domain, lost, and broken. She had begun a slaughter within my realm amongst the living. Enraged at the time, a no-name woman had begun killing my people without cause. I sent out my First General, Godric, The Eternal Reaper.
Taken down, without issue, Godric laid her chained before my feet. Even so, she did not grovel like I would have thought, nor did she try to look indifferent. Instead, Irina took to her feet and attacked me. Trying to strike me with her head, Godric and I could not help but burst into laughter.
Amused by her antics, I had her become my servant. A choice she was not too happy about. However, that quickly changed under the threat of becoming a full-on slave.
"Father!" Melinoë howled, slapping the back of my head.
Creasing my brow, I shot her a stern look as flames burned from my eyes, "What is it?" I coldly growled. It was then I noticed two Eben Knights clad in bone armor. Holding me in their sights, I creased my brow and drew closer.
Bowing their heads, they both cuffed their arms, "We welcome you back, your eminence." They uttered in unison.
"You still remember me?" I asked as they nodded.
"Even if you do not, Your Grace. We are your knights." The Knight on the left uttered softly, "We have already informed Lady Morfray. She is expecting you."
Both honored and taken back. The Knight lifted his head, revealing his deep hazel eyes, "If you will allow me, your grace. Allow me to take you up the Staircase of Broken Souls." He declared a little excited, and I nodded.
Rising to his feet, he shot the others a different kind of stare, flaring his High God, Monarch cultivation, he barked with forewarning, "You there Demon, even if you are an Elder God, so too is our lord, close to the realm of Paragon, should you step out of line, we will have your head."
Baphomet chuckled, "We will see." he challenged.
The Knight narrowed his eyes and did not speak another word. Pressing forwards, we all followed. I could not be bothered to care what Baphomet did because once he did act, I was sure he would perish. Irina had recreated this city against my knowledge to create a weapon to slay a Chaos Lord, those that stand so high, they are judge not by the Laws of this Heaven, but the higher ones.
I didn't know what realm Baphomet was at, but it would not matter. I was one hundred percent sure he would die instantly before a Chaos Lord. Before the Great Change, breaking into the Higher Realms was just about impossible. So these Lords would find ways to grow their power. Whether it was heading into the Badlands to train their Battle Prowess or reincarnating themselves to train in a different Dao. They would do anything to do so. Not even the Arbiters of Fate dared to challenge them. There were even records of some battling an Arbiter so that they could force them to ascend.
Trailing behind the Ebon Knight, I could not help stare at the massive Gothic-style castle city of Rense Loren. Filled with an eerie sensation of mystery, I could not help but marvel at how much this city had grown. The walls were a bit archaic, but I knew they held lots of history everywhere I stepped. Rense Loren was one of the strongest cities within the Twelve Realms.
Walking for a few hours, we soon stopped over the massive set of ashen steps. Hearing the faint whisper of soul filled with sorrow and despair, weeping from the stairs, Baphomet stepped to my side. "What a cruel torture. You even embued the Core of the souls into the stones." He said as I gazed upon the Staircase of Broken Souls, we used to torment those who were too prideful.
"It's not just the staircase," I softly uttered, glancing up at the Eben Castle wrapped in the eerie aura, "It's the entire Castle City. All that you see was once molded by a soul. It just so happens that this stairwell host some of the strongest souls. Hence why we called it the Staircase of Broken Souls."