Chereads / The Pilgrimage of the Iron Mask / Chapter 4 - The Roots of the Crimson Tree

Chapter 4 - The Roots of the Crimson Tree

The man stood up and thus saw the mighty crimson tree, standing tall amidst the tower. The light within him spoke and said, "Beware of this tree. The ladder is the root." The man picked up his sword and continued to climb up its massive roots. Climbing these roots was very dangerous, for they moved and pulsed like a heart. The man then realized that this tree was literally alive and breathing. "This is really dangerous and massive. It's literally alive and breathing," he murmured.

The tree reached the second floor of the temple, a temple so enormous that giant devils had vowed and worshipped the god inside. In the tallest ground floor of the temple, climbing the roots was a harrowing experience. The wood of the tree seemed to move, almost as if the tree itself were trying to shake him off. The roots, as thick as ancient oaks, twisted and writhed with every step he took.

As he climbed, wooden demons emerged from the tree, their forms grotesque and twisted, blending seamlessly with the living wood. They carried enormous spears, ready to attack the intruder scaling their sacred tree. The man, like an ant to these giants, felt a surge of fear but quickly suppressed it. The light within him spoke again, "Fear not. You have power and you're stronger than them. But beware of the fall."

The roots to which he clung were anchored to the walls of the tower, creating a precarious path upward. Six wooden giant devils emerged from the body of the tree, their eyes glowing with a malevolent fire. They brandished their spears, each one a deadly threat to the man. "Prepare yourself if you can defeat. Prepare yourself if you can escape!" one of the giants roared.

The man climbed quickly, narrowly dodging the massive spears thrust at him. Each movement of the demons sent tremors through the tree, making his grip on the roots more tenuous. He swung his sword at the roots and branches that tried to impede his progress, the blade blazing with the power bestowed by the light within him.

One of the demons lunged with its spear, and he barely managed to dodge, feeling the rush of air as the weapon passed by. He retaliated, slashing at the demon's arm, but his blade barely made a mark on the tough, wooden flesh. The demon roared in anger, its eyes flaring brighter as it renewed its assault.

He pressed onward, using his agility to outmaneuver the lumbering giants. Despite their size and strength, they were slow compared to him. He leaped from one root to another, each jump a test of his balance and strength. The roots trembled and shifted, but he held on, driven by the light's encouragement and his own determination.

The wooden demons did not relent. Another spear came at him, and he twisted his body, the blade of his sword intercepting the spear. The clash sent vibrations up his arms, but he held firm. With a swift motion, he cut the spear in half, leaving the demon momentarily stunned. He used the opportunity to climb higher, his muscles burning with the effort.

As he neared the second floor, the roots became more treacherous, slick with sap and covered in thorny growths. His hands bled, but he ignored the pain, focusing only on his goal. The light within him pulsed with energy, soothing some of his wounds and giving him the strength to continue.

The giants, realizing their spears were ineffective, began to shake the tree itself. The entire structure groaned and creaked, the roots shifting violently. The man clung desperately to his perch, feeling the vibrations threaten to throw him off. He climbed with renewed urgency, each handhold a battle against the living tree.

At last, he reached the second floor, pulling himself over the edge and collapsing onto the stone platform. He lay there for a moment, catching his breath and letting the light within him heal his worst injuries. The sounds of the wooden giants faded as he moved out of their reach, but he knew his trials were far from over.

He stood up, taking in his surroundings. The second floor of the temple was just as grand and foreboding as the ground floor. Pillars carved with ancient runes and grotesque figures lined the hall, and the air was thick with the scent of burning incense and the faint echoes of tormented souls.

Medium-sized devils roamed the hall, their forms less imposing than the giants but no less menacing. They snarled and hissed as they caught sight of him, their eyes glowing with malice. The man tightened his grip on his sword, ready for the next battle. The light within him flared, giving him strength and courage.

He moved forward cautiously, aware that these devils were likely more agile and cunning than the wooden giants. One devil, with leathery wings and a serpent-like tail, leaped at him, its claws extended. He dodged to the side, slashing with his sword and cutting deep into the devil's flesh. It shrieked in pain and anger, but he did not give it time to recover, following up with a powerful thrust that pierced its heart.

Another devil, this one covered in scales and wielding a jagged blade, advanced on him. They clashed, the sound of metal on metal ringing through the hall. The man fought with a combination of strength and skill, his movements fluid and precise. He parried the devil's strikes and countered with his own, each blow pushing the creature back.

As he fought, more devils closed in, surrounding him. The light within him guided his movements, helping him anticipate their attacks and find their weaknesses. He moved with a grace and power that belied his battered appearance, cutting through the devils with a relentless determination.

One particularly fierce devil, with horns like a ram and a mouth full of sharp teeth, lunged at him. He met its charge head-on, their swords clashing in a shower of sparks. The devil snarled, trying to overpower him with brute force, but he held his ground. With a sudden twist, he disarmed the creature and drove his blade through its chest. The devil fell, writhing in agony before it dissolved into ash.

The battle raged on, the man fighting with every ounce of strength he had. His sword blazed with the light's power, cutting through the devils like a beacon of hope amidst the darkness. He felt the weight of his mission pressing down on him, but he did not falter. Each victory brought him closer to his goal, each fallen devil a step toward redemption.

At last, the hall grew silent, the devils vanquished. The man stood amidst the carnage, his chest heaving with exertion. He had reached the second floor, but the journey was far from over. He knew the path ahead would only grow more treacherous, but he was ready. With the light within him and the strength of his resolve, he would continue his pilgrimage.

He approached the root of the crimson tree, now seeing it as a symbol of his struggle and determination. It stood tall and mighty, its branches reaching toward the heavens. He placed a hand on its bark, feeling the pulse of life within it. This tree, alive and breathing, was a testament to the power of perseverance.

As he prepared to climb higher, he took a moment to reflect on his journey so far. He had faced unimaginable horrors and fought against impossible odds, yet he had survived. The light within him burned brighter than ever, a constant reminder of his purpose.

With renewed determination, he began to climb again, knowing that each step brought him closer to his goal. The crimson tree's roots would lead him to the temple's highest reaches, and beyond that, to the answers he sought. The man pressed on, his eyes fixed on the path ahead, ready to face whatever challenges awaited him in the heart of the temple.

And thus, his journey continued, each moment a testament to his strength and will. The man climbed higher, driven by the light within him and the promise of redemption. The temple loomed above, a beacon of hope and terror, but he would not be deterred. With his sword in hand and the light guiding him, he would face the darkness and emerge victorious.

– – –

As the man climbed higher on the roots of the crimson tree, he approached the third floor of the temple. The laughter he heard grew louder, echoing through the ancient stone walls. He whispered to the light within him, "What's in there, you think?"

"There are more devils, as this temple was built for them. Be cautious," the light replied, a calm yet stern warning.

The man gripped his sword tighter, feeling the thorns sink deeper into his palm. The pain was a constant reminder of the peril he faced, but he pushed forward, determined to fulfill his mission.

When he finally reached the third floor, his eyes widened in horror. Before him stood enormous giants, each carrying massive pillars as their weapons. These devils were grotesque, their appearances nightmarish. Their skin was a mottled grey, covered in festering sores and oozing wounds. Their faces were twisted into perpetual snarls, with eyes that glowed a sickly yellow. Some had multiple heads, each one more hideous than the last, while others had limbs twisted and fused in unnatural ways.

"Devils," the man muttered under his breath.

As he continued to climb, his sword ignited with blue fire, and sparks of electricity danced along the blade. The giants turned their attention to him, their eyes narrowing in malevolent glee. One of them roared, shaking the very foundations of the temple.

The battle began with a ferocity that matched the man's determination. He swung his sword, and the first giant he faced let out a howl as the flaming blade sliced through its flesh, spewing dark, putrid blood across the floor. The man's movements were swift and precise, fueled by the pain and power coursing through him.

The giants fought back with their massive pillars, swinging them like clubs. One pillar came crashing down, narrowly missing the man as he rolled to the side. The impact shattered the stone floor, sending debris flying. The man retaliated with a powerful upward slash, severing one giant's arm. The limb fell to the ground with a sickening thud, black blood spurting from the wound.

Another giant lunged at him, its multiple heads snapping and gnashing. The man ducked and weaved, evading their attacks. With a swift motion, he thrust his sword into one of the heads, causing it to explode in a burst of fire and electricity. The headless body staggered before collapsing, shaking the floor.

Entrails and blood coated the ground as the battle raged on. The man's strikes were relentless, each one a testament to his resolve. He carved through the giants, leaving a trail of destruction in his wake. The light within him urged him on, its voice a steady presence in his mind.

"Do not falter. Victory is within your grasp."

Finally, the last of the giants fell, its body hitting the ground with a resounding crash. The man stood amidst the carnage, his breath heavy, his body aching. The blue fire on his sword dimmed, and the sparks of electricity faded, but the pain from the thorns remained, a constant reminder of his burden.

With the giants defeated, he began to explore the rooms on the third floor. Each room he entered was filled with ancient treasures and relics, remnants of a bygone era. Gold and jewels glittered in the dim light, but the man paid them little mind. His focus was on his mission.

In one room, he found a chest containing tickets inscribed with strange symbols. The light within him recognized them immediately.

"These are tickets to the trials ahead. Keep them close. They will grant you passage through the barriers that lie before you."

The man nodded, pocketing the tickets. He continued his exploration, finding more treasures and artifacts, each one a testament to the temple's dark history. The rooms were filled with the echoes of the past, whispers of the damned souls who had once inhabited this place.

As he moved through the third floor, he couldn't shake the feeling of being watched. The shadows seemed to shift and move, and the air was thick with an oppressive energy. He kept his sword at the ready, prepared for any threat that might emerge.

In one particularly dark room, he found a series of murals painted on the walls. They depicted scenes of torment and suffering, with devils torturing souls in gruesome ways. The man's stomach churned at the sight, but he forced himself to study them. The murals seemed to tell a story, one that might hold clues to his journey.

"These images… they show the path to the higher floors," the light said, guiding his gaze to a specific part of the mural. "Follow the symbols. They will lead you to the stairway."

The man memorized the symbols, his resolve strengthening. He turned to leave the room, but before he could, a group of medium-sized devils emerged from the shadows. They were smaller than the giants but no less menacing, with sharp claws and fanged mouths.

The man readied himself for another battle. The devils lunged at him, their claws slashing through the air. He dodged and parried, his sword blazing to life once more. The fight was brutal, the devils relentless in their assault. Blood and entrails splattered the walls as the man cut them down one by one.

Despite their ferocity, the man prevailed, his determination unwavering. When the last devil fell, he stood amidst the carnage, his breath heavy, his body bruised and battered. The light within him glowed brighter, a sign of his inner strength.

"You are closer to your goal. Do not lose hope."

The man nodded, his eyes fixed on the mural. He knew the path ahead would be treacherous, but he was ready. With the symbols etched in his mind, he began to make his way to the stairway, ready to ascend to the next floor and face whatever horrors awaited him.

The journey was far from over, but with each step, he grew stronger, more resolute. The root of the crimson tree had brought him this far, and he would not be deterred. The temple's secrets would be unveiled, and his pilgrimage would continue.