A faint light pierced through the gray gloom of the Void, casting eerie shadows over the city that seemed to be trapped in an eternal night, only adding to its melancholy beauty.
The ancient library was shrouded in an oppressive silence, but the tension was almost palpable. Irmund and Eric stood frozen, staring at the enigmatic figure who had appeared before them.
"Well, what do we have here? A Liberated and a bearer of forbidden knowledge, but no king?"
His eyes glowed with a dim, eerie purple light, and at that moment, Irmund and Eric felt the weight of the air around them. It was as if something unseen was draining the life from the place.
Eric's voice trembled as he spoke, "W-What's happening here?"
Irmund didn't answer. He was struggling to keep his emotions under control, feeling his heart quiver with an unfamiliar dread. He knew they were up against an opponent like no other. This figure wasn't an ordinary being, not even a creature of the Void he was familiar with.
At that moment, the shadow behind the mysterious figure began to move, taking on the shape of something resembling a horse, though its features were twisted and unnatural. The shadow's eyes glowed with the same eerie purple light, and an aura of dread swept through the room, as if every last bit of light had been devoured by that malevolent presence.
Irmund reached slowly for his weapon and said to Eric, "I'll try to distract him. You need to run; I'll catch up with you." But it was no use; Eric was rooted to the spot, paralyzed by fear.
"Do you wish to resist?" the mysterious figure asked in a calm, mocking tone. "I suppose you didn't become a member of the elite without reason, but I'm afraid your attempt is in vain."
Before Irmund could move, he felt an overwhelming force pinning him to the ground. The shadow had struck the earth, forcing Irmund to his knees.
"Irmund?" Eric's voice was barely audible, trembling with fear.
But Irmund couldn't respond. All he felt was an immense pressure crushing his spirit before his body. He wanted to fight back, but every movement brought excruciating pain.
The figure smiled wickedly. "Your resistance is commendable, but the more you struggle, the closer you come to your end. Do you understand?"
In a barely audible but determined voice, Irmund managed to say, "I won't… let… you…"
The figure's smile didn't waver, but a hint of pity crept into his eyes. "Ah, the trouble that this person brings you all, isn't it? Very well, I'll do you a favor: turn back now, and I'll pretend this never happened."
"Are you mocking me?!" Irmund growled, straining against the force bearing down on him.
With sheer willpower, he lifted his head, his crimson eyes flickering with a touch of purple. The power within Irmund was clashing with the mysterious force, and though he wasn't sure what would happen next, he knew he couldn't give up.
At that moment, the figure's smile turned cold and devoid of emotion. "I was joking. I wouldn't let you leave here unharmed."
Without warning, he raised his hand and pointed it at Irmund. In an instant, Irmund's upper body was obliterated, blood splattering everywhere.
Eric lost his balance, his face going pale as cold sweat dripped down his forehead. His heart raced, and his vision blurred as he struggled to breathe, but he remained conscious, gripped by the terror of what he had just witnessed, unable even to scream.
The figure slowly turned his gaze to Eric, who found himself crawling backward instinctively, his legs too weak to carry him. The shadow struck the ground again, and Eric froze as a tingling sensation began to spread through his body, intensifying into pain. He raised his hands in front of him, seeing blood oozing from his pores as if he were sweating blood. He started to scream hysterically.
Irmund tried to scream, but his voice only echoed inside his mind. He reached out for Eric, knowing this had to be an illusion. 'This can't be real… can it?' he thought as darkness consumed him. ("Are these really your limits?"
"Oh, so now I'm hearing the voice of someone dear to me, encouraging me?" Irmund thought weakly.)
The figure looked irritated. "Is this all you've got?" he muttered to himself, "Perhaps I set my expectations too high for anyone connected to him. Well—" Before he could finish his thought, a blade nearly pierced his eye.
Irmund extended his hand, calling the blade back to him. Grabbing his second blade, he assumed an attack stance. His situation was dire, but he was ready for battle. His hair tie had come loose, veins bulged from his temples, and his eyes blazed red, his expression cold as if realizing his opponent wasn't nearly as strong as he seemed.
Eric suddenly snapped back to reality, though he still didn't fully grasp what was happening.
The figure glanced at Eric, whose illusion had shattered, then back to Irmund, who now exuded an intense killing intent. The figure smiled, a hint of admiration in his eyes.
"Not bad, son of Vinari."