With bloodshot eyes gleaming under the dim light, Liam's once-human face had morphed into something grotesque. His mouth was now lined with jagged fangs, bared in a furious snarl. His fingers and feet had begun to twist, nails elongating into deadly claws, while twin horns slowly pushed their way through the skin of his forehead. Hunched and barely recognizable, Liam was no longer human, he had become something far more sinister.
The demon that had taken possession of Liam let out an ear-splitting, shrill roar, its voice reverberating with an otherworldly, hollow tone. The very air seemed to vibrate, heavy with the creature's fury. Despite the demon's rage, it was too late, the mystical runes beneath Liam's feet had already sprung to life.
The intricate symbols, glowing with an ethereal light, whirled around in perfect synchronization, creating a cyclone of magical energy. The air crackled as gusts of wind whipped around the clearing, stirred by the raw power of the spell. Liam, or rather the demon that inhabited him, struggled fiercely, but an invisible force bound him to the spot, leaving him thrashing in place, unable to move even an inch toward Leon.
From the cover of the windswept forest, Brandon watched with wide, astonished eyes. His heart raced as he took in the scene, a spectacle of magic so awe-inspiring that it felt like a dream. Before his gaze, a red, flickering shadow, like a flame, was slowly being drawn from Liam's writhing body.
The shadow twisted and contorted as it emerged, growing more distinct by the second. It was the demon, its shape finally visible to the naked eye, a grotesque red phantom that still clung to Liam's form. But something else was pulled from Liam as well, a translucent figure of a young man, his face slack with confusion, as though waking from a long nightmare. The demon's grip on the boy's soul was loosening, the powerful rune magic forcing the two to separate.
Nearby, the scattered corpses of knight-zombies, lifeless but not forgotten, stirred slightly as faint, broken shadows rose from their bodies. The magic was pulling the lingering remnants of their tainted souls free, drawing them toward the same powerful ritual that now bound Liam.
Within the confines of the circle, Leon stood, his brow furrowed in concentration. His fingers formed a precise triangle, thumbs and index fingers pressing together as the girl's voice echoed in his mind, guiding him. He chanted the ancient exorcism spell in the language of Gulorelit, his words gaining speed and fluency as the power of the incantation surged.
The demon, now fully visible as a towering, flame-like shadow, let out a scream that seemed to pierce the very soul. The sound was unbearable, reverberating through the clearing like the howl of a dying storm. Brandon, still hidden in the woods, raised his hands to his ears, trying desperately to block out the noise. His head spun, and for a moment, he thought he saw something, an illusion, perhaps. Was it the wind playing tricks on him? A fleeting image appeared before his eyes, a figure with snow-white hair and a flowing white robe, dancing in the heart of the storm. But as quickly as it appeared, it was gone, and there was only Leon, standing tall within the magic circle.
Leon's voice rose above the demonic screech, as his spell reached its crescendo. The flames that made up the demon's shadow began to dissipate, bit by bit, burned away by the blinding light of the ancient magic. The runes tightened their grip, and the demon's form faded, powerless to resist the exorcism.
As the last wisps of the demon's essence were expelled, Leon turned his focus to the final step of the ritual. His eyes gleamed with determination as he directed the lost souls, both Liam's and those torn from the knights' corpses, into the prepared container, buried beneath the earth. The ritual was nearly complete, and the winds that had once howled through the clearing began to quiet, leaving behind an eerie stillness.
The magic light on the edge of the circle pulsed, intensifying as the spell formation reached its peak. The shimmering energy swirled, gathering faster and faster, preparing to converge at a single point. But just before it could complete the ritual, an unseen force intervened. Liam's soul, momentarily free, was yanked back into his body as if tethered by an invisible thread.
For the zombie knight, however, there was no reprieve. His soul, wild and desperate, had no choice but to follow the flow of the ritual. It spiraled inward, drawn to the center of the magic circle where it rapidly coalesced into a radiant sphere of light. The glowing orb hovered for a moment, vibrating with unnatural energy, before plunging into the ground. It vanished, absorbed by the simple earthen vessel, the spirit lamp buried deep below.
As the wind that had howled through the clearing finally began to calm, the light of the magic slowly dimmed and faded away, leaving the space eerily quiet. Leon, his legs shaky with exhaustion, dropped to the ground, releasing a long breath he didn't realize he'd been holding.
"~Good job."
The familiar voice of the girl echoed softly in his mind, warm and soothing. "You didn't fumble a single word in the incantation. I must say, you're more talented than I gave you credit for."
Leon couldn't help but smile, though it was a weary, bitter one. Perhaps it had been the sheer panic of facing death that had unlocked this hidden talent, but he certainly hadn't expected the spell to go off without a hitch.
Dragging himself back to his feet, Leon made his way over to Liam. The muscular young man lay unconscious on the ground, his once monstrous features now faded away. His limbs, which had begun to resemble those of a demon, were now fully human once more. Leon knelt beside him and carefully pried open Liam's mouth.
"Normal teeth," Leon muttered to himself, a note of relief in his voice.
He gently lifted Liam's eyelids. The once blood-red irises had returned to their original color, though the whites of his eyes were still streaked with red from the strain.
"Is this a success?" Leon asked aloud, though his question was directed inward, to the ever-present voice in his mind. "Will there be any side effects?"
The girl's voice answered with a teasing lilt. "Maybe, maybe not. He might have nightmares for the rest of his life, but don't be ungrateful. A few bad dreams are nothing compared to having your soul devoured by a demon."
"Fair point," Leon conceded with a shrug. Considering the alternative, they were incredibly fortunate to still be breathing.
After calling Brandon back from the woods to help watch over Liam, Leon turned his attention to the center of the magic circle. His heart still racing from the intensity of the ritual, he hurried over to the spot where the spirit lamp had been buried. Dropping to his knees, he began to dig into the earth, his fingers working quickly to uncover the buried artifact.
As soon as the dirt parted, a brilliant white light burst forth from beneath the ground. Even with the ragged cloth covering the lamp, the glow was almost blinding. Leon carefully reached into the pit, his hands trembling slightly as he lifted the spirit lamp from its resting place, cradling it as if it were the most precious treasure in the world.
This lamp was their key, perhaps their only way out of the mysterious "spiritual field" that had trapped them in this twisted reality.
"Did it work?" Leon asked, his voice barely a whisper. "Is this the guide you mentioned? How do I use it to lead us back?"
With trembling hands, he removed the sackcloth from the small wooden cage that housed the lamp. Instantly, the light flared even brighter, so intense that Leon had to squint to avoid being blinded.
In his mind, the girl's voice answered calmly, "Focus on the light. Let it guide your thoughts. The path will reveal itself when the time is right."
Leon stared into the radiance, heart pounding. The journey wasn't over yet, but for the first time, hope flickered in his chest.
"It seems you're in luck," the girl's voice whispered in Leon's mind, carrying a hint of satisfaction. "The closer the soul used as the wick is to the place where it longs to return, the brighter the light becomes. And right now, the brightness suggests that the reality the dead soul seeks is very near."
Leon felt a wave of relief wash over him. "So, I just need to move in the direction where the light is the brightest, and that's the way out?" he asked, glancing at the glowing spirit lamp in his hands.
"Exactly," the girl confirmed. "It's that simple."
Leon exhaled deeply, finally feeling a bit more in control of their situation. Holding the spirit lamp up, he tested her words, shifting it from side to side. As expected, the intensity of the glow varied depending on which direction he pointed it. In one direction, the light flared bright and steady; in another, it dimmed.
Just then, Brandon's voice broke the moment. "Leon! Liam is awake!"
Leon snapped his head up, then hurried over to where his companions were gathered. Liam lay on the ground, his face pale and confused, blinking up at the sky as if he had just woken from a deep sleep.
"Hey, Liam, how are you feeling?" Leon crouched down and waved a hand in front of his dazed friend's face.
Liam groaned, rubbing his temples. "What...what happened? Why am I on the ground? Was I...passed out?"
"You were out cold, alright," Leon replied, unable to hold back a relieved grin. "But let's just say it wasn't exactly peaceful."
Brandon, still catching his breath from the chaos earlier, let out a chuckle, though it was laced with bitterness. "Yeah, while you were enjoying your nap, we were busy running for our lives, because you were trying to chop us to pieces."
Liam's eyes widened, his face going slack with disbelief. "Wait, what? I did...what?"
Leon quickly explained the events that had transpired, how the demon had possessed him, how they had been chased through the forest, and how they barely managed to free his soul with the exorcism ritual. Liam listened, horrified, though his memory of the events was hazy at best. All he could recall was the lingering sensation of a terrible nightmare, something dark and oppressive, but everything else was a blur.
"I'm so sorry," Liam muttered, his face filled with guilt. "I didn't mean—"
"Don't worry about it," Leon said, clapping him on the shoulder. "What's important is that you're back to yourself, and we're still in one piece. Besides, we're not out of the woods yet, literally."
Liam, still shaky but now more aware, slowly got to his feet. His eyes widened as he looked down at himself, taking in the sight of the bloodstains on his tattered clothes and the shredded remains of his chainmail. The realization of just how close he had come to losing himself and his friends, hit him hard.
With the immediate danger behind them, Leon wasted no time rallying the group. "Alright, let's move quickly. We need to collect what we can from the knight's body before we go. His gear could be useful."
The three of them began picking through the remains of the zombie knight scattered across the ground. The armor, though dented from the battle with Liam, was of unmistakable quality, sturdy, noble, and clearly crafted by skilled hands. Leon eyed it greedily, recognizing the value of such a piece.
"We could definitely use this," Leon said, attempting to lift one of the gauntlets. But after several attempts to hoist the armor, it became painfully clear that taking it was out of the question.
The knight's armor, designed for a much larger and stronger man, was simply too heavy for any of them to carry on their journey. Even with the strength they had regained, it was impossible to haul such weight any great distance.
"Not to mention," Brandon added, shaking his head, "this stuff doesn't even fit us. The guy was built like a mountain."
Leon sighed, reluctantly letting go of the idea. "Yeah, you're right. We'll have to leave it. No point lugging around something we can't even wear."
But there was one piece of equipment they could take. Brandon bent down and picked up the knight's sword, a gleaming blade that had somehow remained unscathed through the fight. It was far lighter than the armor and fit easily in his grip, the hilt beautifully engraved with symbols of a noble lineage.
"Well, at least we're not walking away empty-handed," Brandon said with a grin, brandishing the sword. "This beauty will do just fine."
Leon nodded, his eyes once again turning to the glowing spirit lamp. The light, still shining brightly, seemed to call to him, urging them onward. He knew their path wasn't over, but with the lamp as their guide, there was a glimmer of hope.
Leon unclasped the scabbard from the waist of the fallen knight's armor and took the sword from Brandon, his eyes immediately drawn to its craftsmanship. It was a stunning weapon, sleek and deadly, shaped like a half-hand sword. At the pommel, an unknown gemstone was set into the hilt, catching the light faintly, and the cross-guard was adorned with intricate relief patterns. There was also an inscription running along the blade, likely a family motto, though its meaning was lost on him.
But this was no mere ornamental sword. Its performance in battle had already proven its worth. Even after clashing with the demon-possessed Liam, there wasn't a single crack or chipped edge. Leon, once a cold-weapon enthusiast, couldn't help but marvel at the exceptional strength and durability of the blade.
Could this be one of those legendary enchanted weapons he'd read about in his previous life? It certainly felt like something out of the fantasy stories he used to devour. Whether or not it adhered to the laws of science, there was no denying the sword had an otherworldly quality.
"It's likely dwarven steel," Brandon observed, stepping closer. "I can't say for sure if a dwarven craftsman made it, but the material is unmistakable."
Leon gave a low whistle of admiration. The sword was clearly a cut above anything they had handled before. If this were a game, he thought, this knight's sword would easily rank as a rare, high-tier item, far superior to the worn mercenary blade he'd been using, which was practically in pieces.
Without hesitation, Leon sheathed the sword, buckling it around his waist along with the belt. This wasn't a choice made from greed. After the recent ordeal with the demon possessing Liam, Leon understood something crucial, this place was unpredictable, dangerous. And as long as he had the mysterious sorceress in his mind guiding him, he was the least likely of the group to fall prey to possession.
Better he keep the sword than risk one of his companions losing control and using it against them all.
Liam and Brandon had no objections. They'd both seen Leon's growing capabilities as a sorcerer firsthand and knew he was the best suited to wield such a weapon. There was a mutual understanding, unspoken but solidified through their shared experiences.
While Leon and Brandon were examining the sword, Liam rummaged through the knight's belongings and pulled out a small roll of parchment from a leather pouch at the knight's waist. It was about the size of two palms, and when he unfolded it, they discovered it was a map. Unfortunately, it wasn't much to look at, a crude outline of the terrain with a single triangular mark, but no text or discernible landmarks.
"A treasure map, maybe?" Leon mused, recalling scenes from books he used to read. Shrugging, he stuffed it into his pocket. It wouldn't hurt to hold onto it, just in case.
Before they left, the three worked together to push the knight's body and armor into the trap pit they had used earlier. Though this zombie knight had been a serious threat, there was no ill will between them in life. Leon still held the knight's soul within the spirit lamp, guiding it out of this realm. Giving him a proper burial seemed the decent thing to do.
With the pit filled, Leon stood, holding the glowing spirit lamp in one hand and the knight's sword in the other. "Let's move," he said, taking the lead. The light from the lamp, their guide, shone brighter in one particular direction.
Brandon, gripping his long dagger, nodded and followed close behind. Liam, with the nearly broken remains of his sword, brought up the rear. The three of them pressed onward, following the path illuminated by the spirit lamp, disappearing once again into the thick, shadowy forest. The journey wasn't over yet, but at least they had a direction, and a glimmer of hope to cling to.