As we delved deeper into the interconnected corridors, the air grew frigid, and the sense of unease transformed into a sinister foreboding.
The Magi's reconnaissance birds had detected signs of life, signaling the presence of surviving Templars amidst the gruesome aftermath. We knew that our path would be drenched in blood and riddled with unspeakable horrors, but we steeled ourselves, ready to confront the abominations that awaited.
The Priestess forged ahead, her steps unyielding, leaving crimson footprints on the treacherous terrain.
She radiated a macabre determination, a harbinger of death guiding us through the nightmarish labyrinth.
The Magi's eyes glimmered with a cruel vigilance as they scanned the shadows, their senses tingling with the anticipation of a grotesque encounter.
As we pressed forward cautiously, the faint sounds that reached our ears were not mere whispers but the tortured cries of agony. A crescendo of grotesque wails beckoned us, urging us to hasten our approach.
"Goddamnit, those things are unto us, everyone don't scatter and move fast now!".
One of the Magi who is holding a banner screamed at us frantically. His body slowly envelope in a dark aura, but I ignored it we don't have the time to ponder"
We traversed the winding corridors with haste, guided by the macabre melody of the grotesque. Finally, we arrived at a small chamber, its atmosphere thick with the stench of decay, illuminated by flickering torches coated in fresh gore.
"Finally we lost them, damn grotesques those things are relentlessly different than the one we slayed on the outskirts. "
One of the Magi spoken, with heavy breathing, we finally noticed the state of the chamber.
Inside, we beheld a ghastly sight—a group of maimed Templars, their faces contorted with the anguish.
The chamber is tainted with flesh and armor torn to pieces, the walls have been turned red, a banner is standing at the top in the center of the corridor a white banner and red cross at center, ripped tendons and limbs , marred throughout the floor.
Only the cackling flames of the torches echoed in the chamber.
The surviving Templars slumped on the floors lifted their hollow gazes, their eyes bloodshot with a mixture of desperate hope and profound terror.
They had endured unspeakable torments, their bodies marred by the unyielding onslaught of grotesque monstrosities.
Their armor, drenched in the blood of the grotesque, bore the harrowing scars of countless battles fought.
One of the Templar slowly observe us and slowly walks towards us its mask is covered in a golden cross, a red cape draped around its armor, it slowly brandishes its two-handed sword made with intricate design of a cross and tubes, the Templar the signal its companions in position lining up to greet us.
The Templars lined up some of them don't even have limbs, a harrowing sight to be seen, some of them are not wearing any mask, a bloody face only can be seen to those who did where there mask, some of them are holding a weapon that shaped liked a large gun, the gun is connected to the Templar by small tubes and wires that are neatly Intact on the back of the Templar.
The red caped Templar then walked towards us, its metallic boots clanking around the chamber.
"Priestess many of us have fallen, the grotesque flanked us and corner us here. The escape route is near but it is blocked with an ancient rune, most of us can't decipher it, and we don't have enough Templars to guard the decipherer.
A female voice, can be heard around the mask of the red caped Templar. Her hand is shaking while holding the hilt of the sword. She then continues.
"Have you rescued this so-called grand pontiff? If not then this crusade just wasted the lives of many good men and women."
Her voice is louder and full of anger, she then became silent and waited for the response of the priestesses.
With a deliberate stride, the Priestess approached, her voice a melancholic lullaby laced with cruel compassion.
"Despair not, brothers and sisters. The grand pontiff is with us now, he shall lead us to a new age. The Holy Order of Dragonova shall rise again."
The Priestess smiled with reverence facing the Templars, but I noticed her eyes exuded a hint of madness. I then think, Lead? What the actual fuck! I don't even have any memories except for the girl in my dream, and they expect me to lead!.
I am pissed at my current situation but I adjusted and calmed myself. There must be a reason I am stuck in that room.
The surviving Templars huddled around us, their eyes gleaming with a desperate glimmer of renewed hope. They recounted their gruesome ordeals—endless encounters with abhorrent abominations, witnessing the brutal dismemberment of their comrades, and the ceaseless pursuit of unrelenting attacks of the grotesque.
Their souls had been shattered by the unspeakable horrors lurking within these accursed walls, their very essence yearning for liberation from this twisted place.
One of the Templars kneeled and prayed with absolute reverence, and many followed, their armor clanking once they kneeled, some of the mask less Templar cried blood, even those without limbs kneeled and started praying.
"Oh, revered deity,
We gather before you, offering our prayers.
In reverence of the eternal struggle of war that defines our path.
We embrace the chaos and conflict that surround us.
For in the crucible of battle, we find our purpose and identity.
Grant us the strength to accept the trials and tribulations that come with war.
For it is through these trials that we are refined and made whole.
We praise the fierce warriors who have come before us.
Their valor and sacrifice serves as inspiration for our own endeavors.
With hearts aflame and spirits undaunted, we march forth into the fray.
Embracing the challenge and seeking glory in the crucible of combat.
As we march forward, emboldened by your divine favor.
We embrace the path of war with open hearts and unwavering faith.
Accept our prayers, O revered deity, and let the echoes of our devotion resound throughout the annals of time.
In your name, we exalt the glory of war,
And in acceptance, we find our truest selves."
As the Templars and Magi stood in the blood-soaked chamber, their prayers hanging heavy in the air, a bone-chilling silence settled upon them.
They knew that their journey was far from over, and the path ahead would be paved with death and despair.
The red-caped Templar, her voice laced with bitterness and determination, rose from her kneeling position.
"We shall not falter," she declared, her words resonating with a newfound resolve.
"The grotesque may have claimed many lives, but their sacrifice shall not be in vain. We shall honor their memory by pressing forward to purify those damn bastards.
The surviving Templars, their bodies weary and their spirits battered, rose from their knees with a renewed sense of purpose.
They had seen the true face of darkness, felt the cold touch of death upon their comrades, and it only fueled their determination to bring an end to the abominations that had plagued their order.
The Magi, gathered around the Priestess, their eyes shimmering with a blend of sorrow and resilience. They had lost many of their own, but they knew that their mastery of arcane arts was crucial to the success of their mission.
The chamber's atmosphere grew heavily with the weight of their collective grief and determination.
They knew that the escape route lay just beyond the ancient rune barrier, a barrier that required deciphering.
With the grand pontiff rescued, their last hope rested in unraveling the runes to escape this hellish place.
All of us, has moved in a formation the Templars at the front, those who don't have the limbs or to injured to fight are move to the center, and the center is the Magi squad, The Red Caped Templar and the priestess.
At the back is me and the Templars wielding a bulky gun, they are a branch of Templars who specialized in long range warfare or creating a suppressive fire they called themselves, The Mechanized Seraphs.
We moved in a cohesive manner, only our footsteps echoed around, as we headed to the last destination the shortcut, if we unsealed those runic patterns our chances of escape being good.
All of us are tired and some of the Templars are experiencing hallucinations their veil of sanity is slowly slipping away.
And then a red a sharp red tentacle pierces a head of a Templar, the body was rapidly dragged in the darkness, the Templars with a shield quickly raises it to quickly guard against the onslaught, and then a Magi was pierced in the stomach.
"God! Heeelp meeee!"
The Magi was then dragged to the darkness and then a sound of ripping of flesh was heard, bones are popping and crackling are only heard in the darkness, while a deafening scream was heard throughout reverberating on the corridor.
One of the Templar then throw something, and a burst of light revealed a large grotesque, A mass of flesh that was connected to tubes and walls of the corridor, two bodies are separate only showing two heads that is connected within each other to combine a large mouth, its bodies are only flesh that was formed to tentacles and other reddish muscle and appendages. It keeps attacking until.
One by one, the Magi and Templar fell victim to the grotesque onslaught, their bodies torn apart or consumed by the abomination insatiable hunger for flesh.
The remaining Templars fought valiantly, their ranks dwindling as they protected their scholarly companions.
Yet, the grotesque were unyielding, their strength seemingly replenished with each fallen comrade.
Amidst the chaos and death, the seraphs are now in a position to fire their guns. While the magi erected many shield layers to defend the seraphs and the retreating frontline Templars. One of the seraphs then spoke In a robotic sound.
"Weapons switching purify mode to extinction mode, stand back everyone."
"Firing in."
"3"
"2"
"1"
The barrel of the gun then turned white, forming a huge white orb and a deafening blast was heard and Templar recoiled the gun breaking his shoulder and hand.
A huge white laser then pierces the grotesque but it is not enough to take down the grotesque.
It screams and thrashes and attacks In all directions. Then the seraph who fired the gun collapses.
"Only in death there is respite."
As the seraph who fired the gun muttered silently and didn't move.
All of us take advantage of this opportunity and attack the screaming grotesque.
The Priestess's powers surged, her eyes swirling with an otherworldly darkness. She channeled the depths of her arcane abilities, unleashing devastating spells that almost incinerated the grotesque.
But with each display of power, her sanity wavered, and the grotesque still alive.
The red-caped Templar, her sword an extension of her unyielding will, cleaved through the abomination with unmatched ferocity. Cleaving and hacking through the grotesque until finally it didn't move.
"Finally that thing is dead."
One of the Magi uttered calming himself he then shared his knowledge that he is a decipherer he can start deciphering the ancient rune, but only one chance remained. Failure would mean their ultimate demise he then talked to the priestess.
"The Citadel will collapse and it will cut off our escape Priestess I will need a couple of hours to completely decipher this rune."
The Priestess gazed at the Magi, her eyes filled with a mixture of concern and determination.
She understood the gravity of the situation and the limited time they had left before the Citadel's collapse.
"Magi, we have no choice but to trust in your abilities,"
She replied, her voice carrying a sense of urgency.
"We shall protect you with all the power we possess while you work on deciphering the rune. The fate of our survival depends on your success."
The Magi nodded, his focus sharpening as he stepped forward to examine the intricate patterns of the ancient rune. As he delved into his task, the Priestess took her position, her body emanating a radiant energy that formed a protective barrier around them.
The surviving Templars, their bodies battered and their spirits wearied by the relentless onslaught, gathered around the Priestess and the Magi, ready to defend them against any approaching threat.
They knew that failure was not an option, for the grotesque would soon regroup and launch another assault.
The chamber trembled with the impending collapse of the Citadel, debris falling from the ceiling and adding to the macabre scenery.
The air grew thick with tension, but the Templars, despite their exhaustion, stood tall and resolute, their eyes fixed on the Magi's progress.
Hours passed, each minute ticking by like an eternity as the Magi poured over the ancient runes. Sweat glistened on his brow, his hands trembling with the weight of responsibility.
The Priestess maintained her protective barrier, her powers strained as she fought to keep the encroaching darkness at bay.
Finally, a glimmer of understanding shone in the Magi's eyes.
He had deciphered the intricate code embedded in the rune, unraveling its secrets. With a voice filled with both relief and urgency, he called out to the Priestess.
"Priestess, I have deciphered the rune! But we must act swiftly. The collapse of the Citadel is imminent, and we must make our escape before it's too late."
The Priestess nodded, her eyes ablaze with determination. She turned to the remaining Templars, her voice echoing through the chamber with an air of command.
"Brothers and sisters, the time has come to make our stand. With the rune deciphered, we shall open the path to escape this forsaken place. Stay close, and trust in the light that guides us.
With renewed hope and a sense of purpose, the Templars formed a protective formation around the Priestess and the Magi.
The Priestess extended her hand towards the ancient rune, channeling her powers to activate its magic.
A blinding light enveloped the chamber as the rune responded to her command, revealing a hidden passage leading to freedom.