"Shit, it's a dead end again..." I kicked the obstacle in front of us in anger.
The plan John had gotten was clearly not true, either the informant had deceived the wizard or the cultists had decided to remodel, as hinted by the wall of somber tapestry blocking the straight corridor, the fifth in the last half hour.
"Hmm... - Sailor hummed thoughtfully, pushing aside the cloth with the image of horned humanoids dancing around the fire, tapping the brickwork softly, listening to the sound. - At least half a meter thick.
"Let's move on, they couldn't have bricked it all up.
There's less and less time before the parade of planets, but blowing up the wall isn't an option: the locals will come running, and even though that way we'll definitely get to the altar, I don't want to try such an emergency delivery. We'll be too easy prey as long as the cultists are connected to Melholm, and even a bunch of grenades and a machine gun with endless ammo won't help. Stealth is our weapon of choice now... as dumb as that sounds, considering the two fanatics we've knocked out.
The corridors are succeeded by passageways, but they all end in dead ends, and we have to avoid the occasional sentry, which hurts our already slow speed. It's good that the ceilings are high enough to hide in, and the light from the dim torches and the occasional rays of sunlight shining through the thick black curtains of the narrow loopholes.
In general, the castle evokes a double impression. A majestic large-scale and beautiful building, erected in a picturesque place, beautiful layout (without taking into account the bricked-up corridors), but at the same time the interior design was made by a man who has obviously read too many tabloid novels about aristocrats of the night, and in the worst way. A beautiful phrase comes to mind: "blacker than the blackness of infinity", and without the neo-gothic that I'm already used to, just everything is done in very gloomy colors and with items as if whistled from a store for goths ...
"Mr. J... I mean, Knight," my companion corrected herself, "are there any vampires around here?
It seems I wasn't the only one who thought of this comparison, but, judging by the information from the book "The Unmortalized", there shouldn't even be ghosts here: the altar would absorb everything unnecessary, which I told the girl, calming her down a bit. Still, meeting with a vampire in a narrow corridor and without weapons made of consecrated silver - to sudden donation of all blood.
It was annoying. I was about to give up and just walk forward, keeping to one side, like in a maze, but my plans were disrupted by a loud sound.
~Bo-o-om~
From somewhere in the depths came the powerful rasping ringing of a bell, sending shivers down my spine.
If there's an alarm, we're fucked. My brain is frantically trying to figure out the shortest route to the castle walls. I don't give a shit about the altar, we just have to survive here, and we can somehow defeat the invading Melholm by teaming up with other superheroes. In the comics, even Trigon could be exorcized, but here it's just some fifth-level Overlord. A couple of Amazons should kick his ass!
~Bo-o-om, bo-o-om, bo-o-om~
The ringing continued.
"Eight o'clock in the morning. - The blonde said, glancing at her watch.
Huh, you can exhale, just the original alarm clock... Yup, but ringing it thirteen times is clearly overkill.
After a dozen minutes, my enhanced hearing began to pick up a noise from the nearest downstairs. I glanced over at Harley and went down the stairs and found a small group of slow-moving hooded men.
Ha ha ha, it gets more dangerous, but much more interesting!
"Follow them. - I whispered, waiting a few seconds.
The route was quite strange, going in a kind of spiral, but the main thing was that with each step we were getting closer to our goal. Gradually the number of people increased, and we had to slow down to avoid being in the very center. The mood around us was enthusiastically happy, and the adepts were talking softly, discussing the day of the Ascension. Melholm didn't give a shit about this crowd and only needed them to create a breach, and then the real demons would come in and feed the cultists, though maybe someone would get lucky and spend a couple of days on Earth... As a toy, until he died a cruel and painful death, to end up in the domain of the patron, who would continue the torture, milking the ba-hion.
We reached the throne room with these unhappy thoughts. The crowd had grown even larger as adepts came out of the adjoining corridors, like tributaries flowing into a river. The advance slowed. In spite of all our maneuvers, Harley and I were still surrounded, and now it would be impossible to escape unnoticed. Eventually we reached the doors, and I realized why the pace had slowed down so much: there were several adepts standing in the passageway, inspecting everyone who entered... Fuck...
"Harley, move to the right, I'll throw the flash drive, and under its cover, we'll hit the ceiling. - I whispered in a low whisper, and after a nod from her, I started moving to the right.
"Brother Virgil! We've been searching for you off and on. You must prepare for the ceremony!" There were three people rushing toward me from the door, elbowing everyone, two men and a woman, judging by the prominent shape of the latter's robe.
The adepts around me immediately parted, bowing their heads respectfully.
Okay, I think I replaced someone very important... Thank you, unknown designer, for the shitty lighting and the patches on the robes. And thanks to Melholm for not upgrading his servants with night vision.
"Angelica. - The woman hissed, not reaching us a couple steps, but then shaking herself, she bowed softly as well.
Think, head. Even though everyone was distracted, Harley was still in danger, and so was I... I couldn't think of anything better to do, so I just put my arm around my companion.
Despite the cultist's hooded face, for a moment I thought her eyes flashed red.
"So that's how it is... Follow me, please. - She turned around and, pushing people apart with her prominent breasts like an icebreaker, strode toward the door.
We weren't even checked when we were let into the throne room.
Thank fuck, it was also dark and I couldn't see shit. The only bright spot was a huge canvas on the far wall, illuminated by a beam from above. The painting depicted Melholm, a huge horned demon with a black goat's head, yellow-red skin tone and disproportionately huge long arms with long claws, sitting on a pile of gold. Just below the painting, where the throne should theoretically be located, was the descent into the catacombs, where the cultists were slowly entering.
Without stopping, our attendant walked on.
~Click~
It sent out a faint wave, and the adepts in front of her began to fall to the floor with cries of pain.
Fucking magic tricks...
No further demonstration of seriousness was required, and the fanatics hastily cleared the passage, allowing our company to pass through
The steep descent downward, lit by torches, was quite long; it went to the very foot of the mountain on which the castle was located, or perhaps deeper.
The rhythmic beating of drums and chanting came to my ears, awakening something ancient and savage in my soul. The tangy odor of blood and decay hit my nose. After a couple of minutes we finally reached the base, and I had a view of a huge cavern, in the center of which a decent crowd had already gathered, surrounded by several fires, and how could they not suffocate without fresh air? Magic, no other way.
~Crunch-crunch-crunch-crunch~
Every step we took was accompanied by a barely perceptible crunch. I looked more closely and hesitated for a moment, but continued walking. It was bones... Hundreds of thousands of bones littered our path! Most of them were hardly human, but that didn't make me feel any better.
Contrary to my expectations, we didn't go straight to the altar, but turned left a little before reaching it, following a barely lit path to find ourselves in what looked like a classic dungeon: a relatively narrow, long corridor with many doors on either side. There was almost no foul odor here, and there was even a faint breeze.
"Please. - The woman stepped aside and opened one of the doors, revealing a rather large living quarters, furnished in the familiar gloomy style. - The clothes are ready.
If only it would work. Fingers crossed that it would work, I pushed Harley forward and went in myself, shaking my head at the cultist and her two escorts who tried to follow us.
"But..." She bowed her head. - I understand... The Ascension ceremony is half an hour away. We'll wait for you here.
"Whew. - As I locked the heavy door, cutting off all sound from outside, I exhaled a sigh of relief.
"R..." Harley said before I clamped my hand over her mouth.
"Shh, shh, shh. - I put my finger to my lips and squinted at the wooden barrier. The sounds outside might not pass through, but that didn't mean we couldn't be overheard, and our escort was clearly a sorcerer, so we shouldn't take any chances.
Nodding understandingly, my assistant made a gesture as if zipping her mouth shut.
On the chair by the mirror was a red hoodie, embroidered with black symbols and pentagrams. If it was magical, I shouldn't wear it... But without it, the three outside the door would attack us, and I didn't want to check how strong the adepts were near the altar.
I borrowed a throwing knife from Harley and began to stealthily cut through each symbol, a couple of seconds later the blonde beauty joined me, realizing the meaning of my actions. Soon I was standing at the mirror, dressed in red, double-checking the grenades and explosives. Huh, it looks good on me! It even feels like a distinctive style.
~Boom, boom, boom, boom~
There was an insistent knock on the door.
There was a slightly nervous woman standing in the hallway who informed us that there were ten minutes left. In the cave we went straight to the altar. The crowd grew even larger, and the roar of the drums merged into an endless hum. This time the people parted on their own, allowing our delegation to go forward.
As I got closer, I could see the altar, lit by torches emitting a red color. What I had at first taken for a pile of stones was in fact a pile of skulls with frozen streams of almost black venous blood, as if someone had been slaughtered on it only a few minutes before. Now there was a victim lying there, too, but the shaking air made it unclear who it was I was supposed to be rescuing.
I froze at the foot, hesitant to take the first step as the air ahead shook with a decidedly unheat-like heat. Shit, if I do get killed, I'm supposed to end up at Madness, who doesn't seem to be into pulling ba-hion.
"Brother Virgil?
"Huh. - Emotions get cut off and I can breathe a little easier.
I take a leisurely first step and touch the step, and the drums and chanting immediately stop. Slowly I step onto the next step, there are only five of them, so I don't want to hurry, or I might fall over. Oh, it turns out that the victim is a black goat. I walk slowly around the altar, noting an ornate knife with a curved black blade and a handle with a ligature of yellow-red symbols. Remembering the sorceress's words, I have no desire to pick it up. I just need to stall for time while John sets up a barrier to cover these assholes, but the front rows are clearly showing impatience, and I don't want to get slaughtered.
There are at least a hundred pairs of eyes on me.
Hmm... I've never been in this situation before, but I'll try to get out of it. I should probably give a speech... It's a bit of a bullshit sacrifice.
"Eckham. - I coughed into my fist, trying to copy the voice of the original Virgil. - In seeing this goat off to his final resting place, I want to say that he was a worthy ruminant. He was very fond of cabbage and fresh grass," my distorted voice echoed in the complete silence and seemed to reach every corner of the cave, "he did not disdain apples and carrots, sometimes he ate... In short, he was a troglodyte. Every day grazing in the meadow, the goat Arkhip (that's his name, if someone doesn't know it) gained fat and bathed in tar, acquiring a noble black color. His goat's face reminds very much of the Lord's face, except that his horns are shorter, but never mind.
The adepts looked at each other perplexed.
"I also want to say that after the Ascension it is necessary to compensate his wife, the goat, because she still has five goats to raise. The youngest goat is called Rosa...
Hell, hurry up, I can't generate nonsense in such quantities.
"He's an impostor!" Shouted someone very smart from the back rows.
"Fuck you! I just don't want to get my beautiful robe dirty, so I'm stalling. - I answered in a flash.
"Get him!" A few people rushed down the aisle, but the worst part was the translucent wave from the titty sorceress toward me. It was at that moment that John finally put up an antimagic barrier, shattering the scum flying at me. My insides twisted like I'd done when I'd overdone the spell, but it didn't do much to stop me from getting my bearings, while most of the fanatics fell to the ground groaning as the connection to their patron was severed.
~Poof~
I throw a checker with some pink smoke under my feet, noticing Harley rushing in my direction, and as I throw off my hindering hoodie and chain the C4 to the altar, my mysterious voice echoes in the lowered silence:
"I'm your nightmare, I'm the penalty card on your car windshield! I'm the cunning lock to the basement of justice, I'm the thermite that'll chip all your wood! I'm the moth that got into your closet! I'm the tube that won't open! I am the Knight of Moonlight!
With the last sound, the smoke cleared and our gorgeous couple appeared before the shocked Satanists.
~Gr-r-r-r-r~
There was a slurping sound from the back rows, and then something wet and slimy slapped against the bone floor. As I looked down at it, I saw a towering mountain of flesh, as if sewn together from different pieces... Well, no barrier blocks the ancient magic that uses flesh and blood of mages. Of course, I'd read in the book about various curses and vampire-slash-vampire tricks, but it was theoretically possible to cast something cooler, especially if a couple of people literally sacrificed their lives.
***
~Bam~
"The monster roared in frustration as the next projectile it launched, consisting of a lump of compressed bones, flew past, crashing into the wall.
"Sailor, next time remind me not to drag out the introductions and start pissing everyone off right away.
"Ugh, okay. - The cute assistant, holding on to my hand without looking, threw the last grenade behind her back.
~Boom~
The passageway has collapsed, but I can authoritatively say that it won't slow the creature down much, since this is the second time. It's difficult to assess the damage because of the darkness around, in which only I can more or less properly orient myself. Apparently, all the torches were magical, and with the destruction of the altar, they burned out, no longer illuminating the surrounding space.
We've been playing catch-up with death for fifteen minutes now, scurrying around the local catacombs in an attempt to disengage from the monster.
The beginning of the second phase was pretty good: I don't know what those assholes were counting on, but flesh golems are fucking stupid, and you always need a chaser to control them, otherwise they'll just kill the nearest living creatures trying to increase their mass. And since normal magic doesn't work, it's impossible to control this thing, so the first victims of the golem were the adepts themselves, who, although they were mages, were not known for their good physical condition. While most of the enemies were distracted, fleeing from the furious mountain of flesh, I dominated the altar and even untied the waking goat, which immediately galloped somewhere in the darkness, bleating pitifully. We rushed for the exit, hiding in the shadows, picking off the cultists who got in our way. There was no point in trying to hide: the thing could sense the living, so our task was to run away, destroy the altar, and then go up to the throne room, leaving all the problems to the wizard.
There were no problems with the first two items at all, and it turned out to be even somehow mundane. "Boom" and there was no more huge mana reservoir, capable of creating a breakthrough into the infernal dimension for the passage of the Lord, but with the evacuation there was a hitch: the golem was too quick to deal with the cultists, who also rushed towards the throne room. The machine was quite nimble, catching up with the fanatics who were trying to escape.
Sensing that he'd be done with everyone quickly and come after us, I suggested we run to the place where I'd changed clothes. The corridor was long and there was a current of air, clearly hinting at an emergency exit.
Back to the present events, it seemed I was right. After winding through the local labyrinth and destroying the ceiling twice, we slowed down at a powerful grate with a monumental lock, which smelled of fresh air. The last of the explosives, spent on mining the barrier. We run away behind the nearest corner and after the explosion, headlong rush forward. I had to work with a cane and a bat as levers to bend the not completely destroyed grate, but it's worth it, because I can already smell freedom.
"This doesn't look like much of a secret passage. - My companion remarked as I jogged to describe the crude cave we were in.
"Fuf, I think that's the way to go, even if someone accidentally gets here, they'll never guess that the path leads to a castle a few kilometers to the south. That's it, I can slow down: I can't hear the golem anymore. - I slowed down, catching my breath.
Strange... For a moment I felt as if someone had run a fine sandpaper over the stone.
~Shorh~
Here we go again!
"Sailor, can't you hear anything?
"Hmm..." The girl listened. - Yeah, it sounded like the scraping of chitin.
"Chitin..." I repeated faintly as the puzzle in my head fully came together.