Astaroth gazed at the stone altar and its intricate carvings. The presence of the Eldorian language in Acrania was perplexing; it seemed implausible for it to appear here without someone deliberately orchestrating it. He pondered whether the altar had been transported from Eldoria to this world, or if the person who engraved the message hailed from Eldoria, just like him, and had somehow been brought here.
"This is the official language of Eldoria, Astaroth murmured, "and the altar seems to have stood here for an eternity."
Lalitha, intrigued and cautiously, placed her palm on the stone surface. As her skin made contact, an icy coldness seeped into her, sending shivers down her spine. She sensed a pulsating energy, laden with an ominous curse, emanating from beneath her touch.
"What should we do? If we break the altar and release what is inside, I should be able to block off the curse that resides within," Lalitha stated. Astaroth pondered for a moment before deciding not to leave things as they were. "I want to see what would happen if we break open the altar."
The night was cloaked in an eerie stillness as Lalitha and Astaroth prepared themselves for the unknown. Moonlight cast ghostly shadows, amplifying their sense of trepidation. A gust of wind whistled through the ancient trees as if warning them of the impending danger. They exchanged a knowing glance, their eyes reflecting determination mixed with a tinge of fear.
With careful steps, they encircled the foreboding altar. Its ancient carvings seemed to writhe beneath the dim light. Lalitha's heart raced a little, fueled by a mix of curiosity and dread. Astaroth feels relaxed, there is nothing that could cause him to be on his guard. But on the safe side, he channel his demonic power in preparation for whatever lay ahead.
As they stood before the altar, Lalitha felt a surge of confidence. She knew the risks, but her desire to uncover the truth pushed her forward. With a resolute nod, she signaled to Astaroth, and together they unleashed a combined force upon the altar. The impact reverberated through the air, sending shockwaves of energy rippling in all directions.
Suddenly, a blinding light burst forth, consuming the surroundings. Lalitha shielded her eyes, her senses overwhelmed by the intense radiance. When the light subsided, an eerie silence settled upon the scene.
Slowly, they opened their eyes, only to be confronted by a sight that defied their understanding. The altar, once solid and imposing, now lay shattered into countless fragments. But it was not the altar itself that held their gaze—it was what emerged from within.
A sinister mist slithered forth, coalescing into a shape both ethereal and menacing. Its glowing eyes pierced through the darkness, fixating on Lalitha and Astaroth with an insidious hunger. The air thickened with a suffocating malevolence, sending waves of dread coursing through their veins.
Astaroth felt the weight of his decision, realizing the magnitude of the curse they had unleashed. Yet, a spark of defiance flickered within him. He knew they had to confront this otherworldly entity head-on or risk being consumed by the darkness it embodied. The mist began to circle them, and Lalitha readied her spells, prepared to cast them immediately if the mist attacked.
Astaroth raised his hand and commanded, "I am Astaroth, the Demon King of the sixty-six world, commander of the forty legions of demons. Show yourself."
The mist quivered, its form shifting and contorting as if in response. A low, guttural laugh echoed through the air, vibrating with malevolence. The very ground beneath their feet trembled, causing Astaroth and Lalitha to steady themselves.
Suddenly, the mist parted, revealing a towering figure at its center. It stood at least ten feet tall, draped in tattered black robes that billowed around it like a shroud. Its face was obscured by a swirling vortex of shadows, emanating an aura of pure darkness. The soft yet menacing tone of its voice echoed through the air. "Demon King Astaroth... Astaroth... I have not heard that name in eons... Hahaha.ha.ha.haahhh..."
The figure continued, its voice sending shivers down Astaroth's spine. "I know you, Demon King Astaroth. You were killed in Eldoria, vanquished by the hero sent by the goddess. So... why has the great Demon King Astaroth, who once ruled sixty-six worlds, appeared in this run-down place... awakening me from my slumber?"
Astaroth regarded the figure in the tattered robes, his curiosity piqued. "You know my name and my past encounters. This can only mean that we have crossed paths before... Tell me your name."
The towering figure grinned, the shadows swirling faster around its hidden face. "I am known as the Herald of Shadows. Once a faithful servant of darkness, I have slumbered for centuries, forgotten by time and space itself. And now, you have awakened me. You should know my name, Demon King Astaroth... kekekeke."
"I cannot recall your name at the moment," Astaroth admitted, frustration etching his voice. "When I was transferred here by the gatekeeper, there have been losses to my memories. I am curious... You call yourself the Herald of Shadows, once a servant of darkness... I remember the names of all my forty commanders who led my legions of demons, and none of them were referred to as the Herald of Shadows."
Lalitha, who had remained silent until now, suddenly interjected, her voice laced with curiosity. "Master, do you think he is not from Eldoria? Could he be from another dimension?"
Astaroth pondered Lalitha's question, his mind racing with possibilities. Eldoria, their realm of existence, was a place where darkness and light coexisted, each holding its dominion. However, the notion of other dimensions and beings crossing over cause Astaroth to frown.
"Indeed, Lalitha," Astaroth replied, his voice tinged with a mixture of caution and intrigue. "There are realms beyond our own, hidden in the folds of reality. Beings from other dimensions could possess powers and knowledge beyond our comprehension."
The Herald of Shadows remained silent, seemingly unfazed by their exchange. Its form shifted, elongating as tendrils of inky darkness snaked out, probing the air around them. Astaroth's instincts told him that this being held secrets—secrets that could unlock ancient forces or unleash unspeakable horrors.
"Since you cannot recall my name, Demon King Astaroth," the Herald of Shadows spoke, its voice a chilling whisper that echoed through the chamber, "then there is nothing further for us. I shall overlook this trespass... for now. But beware, should you disturb this altar again, you shall call my name, or else you shall face the full force of my curse... kekekek... even if you are the Demon King."
After issuing its warning, the mist surrounding the figure grew thicker, shrouding it in impenetrable darkness. Suddenly, with an eerie silence, both the mist and the Herald of Shadows vanished. The altar in front of them was restored to its initial state as if nothing had happened.
Astaroth stared silently at the altar, his mind flooded with unanswered questions. Why were the carvings on the altar in the ancient language of Eldoria? And why did the figure depicted in the carvings seem so eerily familiar? Astaroth wracked his brain, desperately trying to recall a name, a memory that would shed light on this enigma.
"Let us press on," Astaroth finally spoke, his voice laced with a mix of determination and unease. "Sanctavia awaits us, and lingering here serves us no purpose. Breaking the altar again would only invite the wrath of the curses, and that is a battle I do not want to face now, for it holds no meaning."
The two of them continued to walk and soon emerged from the forbidden forest. Throughout their journey, they encountered no one, and the adventurer group that had been escorting the wealthy merchant was nowhere to be seen. In the following days, their travels remained uneventful as they ventured along a path that gradually became more populated, eventually revealing the majestic city of Sanctavia on the horizon.
As they approached the city gates, a long queue of people awaited entry, and the gate guards diligently screened each individual. The Festival of Thanks, a week-long celebration, was drawing near, attracting numerous travelers who sought to express their gratitude to the goddess. Merchants flocked to the city as well, eager to partake in trading and set up stalls to conduct business during this prosperous period.
As Astaroth and Lalitha approached the gate, they could see the guards meticulously inspecting each traveler. The guards were clad in gleaming white armor, their eyes sharp and alert, exhibiting a level of training far superior to that of Yosnad. When it was Astaroth and Lalitha's turn, they handed over the letter penned by Magnus and explained their purpose of visiting the ancient temple and indulging in the sights of the city.
The guards carefully perused the contents of the letter and eventually issued them a temporary entrance pass. One of the guards that looks like the team leader, with a stern expression, cautioned them, "This temporary entrance pass grants you access to the city for fourteen days. Should you require an extension beyond that, you must proceed to the adventurer guild. If you fail to renew the pass after it has expired you will be thrown in jail."
Lalitha reply, "Sure, we have no plan to stay that long anyway, but if there is a change of plan we will extend the date in this temporary pass."