In a dimly lit and dilapidated corridor, the body of a man lay on the floor in a pool of blood. Suppose it could still be called that. The body was perforated like Swiss cheese, and one leg was a few meters away. Someone with minimal exposure to small arms would immediately recognize some of the tools used to kill the man.
A huge hole had replaced the chest with the remains of broken ribs protruding from it. As one might guess, this wasn't the only wound; the torso contained many of them. Some had smooth edges, the result of a clean cut, while others were jagged, with pieces of flesh clinging to thin flaps of skin.
Even the victim's hands weren't spared. They were covered with bloody marks, indicating the use of arrows and spears. Not a single person would have been sickened by the sight of such mutilated corpses. Fortunately, no one had the chance to see them.
All sorts of cracks ran along the walls of the corridor. The material they were made of showed numerous signs of corrosion and deterioration.
What used to be called the ceiling was found to be in even worse condition. Of the wooden beams that were supposed to support the whole thing, only flimsy pieces of rotten wood remained.
The floor also had succumbed to the inexorable ravages of time. It was filled with holes large enough to fit a baby of several months.
The body of the dead man belonged to Ramiel. Even after death, the expression on his face expressed pain and irrational anger. Until the last second of his life, Ramiel couldn't come to terms with the betrayal. People he trusted repeatedly put his neck on the line and were willing to do anything... stabbed him in the back in cold blood.
Some would look for the positive in violence. At least now Ramiel knows who he can trust and who he can't.
Small hint, no one.
Even crazier people would say - "Hey, what doesn't kill us makes us stronger, right?"
Unfortunately, in this particular case, Ramiel died, so he never got a chance to learn that lesson. However, as the saying goes, nothing is complicated for the willing. Life is cruel, and when necessary, it will mock even the dead.
Apparently, our little and relatively experienced Ramiel has become the object of a cruel fate.
You will ask yourself, who am I, and how do I know all this? Hmm... I just like to see some of Ramiel's adventures from time to time. If you were where I am, you would also complain about the lack of activities. If you are curious about my identity, you may get to know me in the future. For now, focus on what's important.
Under the influence of the increased influx of mana, the corridor walls trembled, and millions of ancient runes appeared on their surface. The atmosphere in the dungeon cooled down. All that could be smelled in the air was a chill and the peculiar stench of death.
The runes moved to form what looked like a gate. This structure reached a height of 3 meters. At the edges, the runes formed incomprehensible inscriptions and decorations. Strangest of all, all the pieces fit together to form a coherent whole.
The gates of the massive gate moved. An unbearable and soul-shattering screech accompanied them. Millions of tormented souls fell through the resulting gap. At first glance, one might wrongly assume that they were in a blissful state of ecstasy. They have finally regained their freedom. But closer inspection will reveal anguished faces contorted in fear and panic.
Boom!
Suddenly, the gate opened with a bang, and in it stood a hooded figure. A sea of wailing souls surrounded it from all sides. In his right hand, the figure wielded a giant scythe covered with a thousand runes resembling those on the surface of the gate.
The robe that concealed the mysterious visitor seemed as intriguing as his weapon. Like his weapon, it was covered in mystical symbols and emitted a black glow.
Two rotten blue flames ignited in place of the mysterious figure's eyes. Despite the light created by the flame, the mythical being's face was still shrouded in impenetrable darkness.
The figure raised its left hand and pointed a finger at the man's body, or what was left of it, then let out a chilling squawk.
The sea of souls accompanying the mythical being quieted, and their moans were replaced by the ear-pleasing singing of a chorus in an unknown language.
The runes on the newcomer's robe moved, forming a four-dimensional formation. A putrid blue mist escaped from beneath the creature's feet and slowly crept down his body toward its hands.
In the process, some souls stopped singing, thereby flying to the side of the mist and assimilating with it. The voices of the chorus, doomed to eternal slavery, grew louder, making the entire fortress tremble. Under the influence of the louder melody, the troughs collapsed. Soon, the rooms followed in their footsteps, threatening the very survival of the fortress.
The mist at the reaper's fingertip moved toward Ramiel's dead body. The dark mist, in the form of thin stripes, staggered in smaller and smaller circles, with the massacred corpse at its center. In this way, something like a spiral was formed.
The creature once again emitted the same awful squawk. This time, there was a grave silence. None of the other souls dared to make any movement.
The mist at the soul reaper's fingertip began to move toward Ramiel's dead body. The dark mist, in the form of thin streaks, staggered smaller and smaller circles, which took the massacred corpse as their center. In this way, something like a spiral was formed.
Within a second, the mist split into millions of thin strips that entered Ramiel's body through every possible hole, starting with the largest hole in the chest and ending with the pores through which sweat exuded.
The blood, which formed a puddle, returned to the man's body through a magical mist. A similar process occurred with his severed leg, which was reattached.
Most of the wounds on Ramiel's body disappeared, leaving only those that weren't life-threatening if the corpse could live.
As the process neared its end. A miracle happened. It was as if the universe itself heard my words and decided to mock them.
The cloaked figure touched the place where Ramiel's heart was located with the tip of her scythe. The flames in its eyes changed color from rotten blue to dark purple.
A gigantic formation formed beneath Ramiel's body, covering the entire castle. Unlike the last two times, the creature began humming a song that would soothe the most troubled soul.
In its free hand, a pale blue drop formed on the finger that had previously pointed at the man. The drop was actually composed of billions of microscopic runes, which combined to form an intimidating sight.
The mythical creature dropped its creation onto Ramiel's chest. The drop penetrated the skin and into the body, causing intense muscle spasms.
Ramiel's heart began to beat again, circulating blood throughout his body. His vital functions returned, and his chest rose. The pale, corpse-like face took on vivid colors again.
The creature dropped its scythe in front of it, which floated in the air instead of falling. It spread its long arms, and thousands of runes flew out of its sleeves. The runes formed something like two rings, circling around Ramiel in opposite directions.
These rings pulled in everything around them, thus destroying the dungeon. The process was designed to accumulate the right amount of mana needed to perform the spell.
When nothing was left but Ramiel and the mysterious visitor, the formation beneath them shrank. Meanwhile, the runic formations, their insatiable appetites satisfied, accelerated and changed their position in space.
They no longer moved parallel to each other but created something like a makeshift sphere consisting of two circles. One shrank and orbited the larger one around its axis, while the larger one orbited the smaller one.
An intense dark purple light emanated from the magical formation. Ramiel's body floated in the air above it. Beneath it, a 10x10 meter crack appeared in space.
The hooded being looked at the crack and snapped his fingers. The runes orbiting Ramiel shook, and then they all accelerated, forming a kind of barrier in the shape of a sphere.
This sphere moved toward the spatial crack, tearing apart the space in the immediate vicinity. At a distance of 5 meters from the hole, the sphere was pulled into it.
A hoarse voice came out of the mysterious gentleman's mouth. Its timbre sent shivers down the backs of living beings and beyond. Even the souls of the dead trembled with fear.
"That was the first and last time Nenneke spoke. I will no longer bend the laws of this world. Remember, the contract you made with him... is binding, and I will see to it that you fulfill it. " - With these words the figure disappeared into the gate. The mighty door closed with a bang, and the whole thing dissolved into the air as if nothing had ever existed there. Only emptiness remained.
The mighty door closed with a bang, and the whole thing dissolved into the air. All that was left was a dark and unfathomable void.
The explosion that was supposed to be responsible for the collapse of the dungeon never happened, and the actions of a mysterious visitor caused the reaction outside.
~~~~~~
Somewhere in the world of Avalon was a ruined and masterless dungeon. If a room measuring 10 x 10 meters can be called a dungeon, against one of the walls stood a flimsy imitation of a chair. Behind the object on a dilapidated stone column lay a small sphere made of glass-like material.
In one corner of the room sat five disgusting dwarf creatures. The monster's skin was green. Enlarged and curved noses further disfigured their hideous faces.
Their most dangerous weapons were long claws. The creatures wore no armor, let alone clothes. The only thing they wore was a piece of frayed cloth tied over their waist.
They were some of the most offensive creatures in all the novels, goblins. Saliva dripped from their mouths, and their lustful gaze rested on the two women sitting close together in the center of the room, especially the horned beauty sitting on the left.
Beautiful green eyes, full blood-red lips, long silver hair that reached halfway down her back, a petite hourglass figure, and a firm ass that could give her a heart attack just by looking at it. Many models could have posed for the figure of this mysterious beauty. Lovely C-cup breasts weren't to be outdone. Covered by a modest piece of cloth, they stimulated men's primal instincts.
A thin tail ending in something heart-shaped rocked nervously from side to side. Everything was perfectly complemented by two dark purple horns with silver scratches that resembled cracks. The horns weren't too big, and one of them was broken in half. Nevertheless, they made the scantily clad figure look incredibly appealing.
The second woman, although not as intimidating as the first, still attracted the attention of the opposite sex with her uncommon beauty. Long sky-blue hair, golden eyes, small pink lips, elongated pointed ears, large ample breasts, and well-sculpted buttocks. All this matched perfectly with her long legs. As if that wasn't enough, her slightly flushed cheeks added to her charm. She wore a light jacket, worn by scouts or hunters on the hunt, and short shorts. In case anyone hadn't figured it out yet, she belonged to the elven species.
Next to her lay a dilapidated bow, with a few arrows and a pair of old daggers long past their prime.
The elfess glanced nervously at the green-eyed beauty as the crackling sound of space being torn apart echoed through the dungeon.
Everyone's gazes turned to the stone chair in front of which Ramiel's body fell out of the space breach.
As the man fell, the sphere on the stone column changed its color from dark purple to black. The room's walls shook, and for a moment, a dark Aura emanated.
Ramiel's athletic physique and muscles, developed over the years, were nowhere to be seen. His handsome face had become emaciated, and his cheeks had sunken inward. His once black-as-night hair with white tips had thinned and faded.
Through an unexplained phenomenon, Ramiel looked younger than he actually was.
Unfortunately, not everything was painted brightly for him. Old wounds had opened up on Ramiel's back, staining the floor scarlet. The rate at which he was losing blood threatened his life. If he didn't receive proper aid soon, he would end badly.
The goblins wasted no time. As soon as they spotted the unconscious Ramiel, they moved toward him, ignoring the dungeon's strange behavior. However, the women sitting in the middle of the dungeon were faster. In the blink of an eye, they stood in front of the former hunter, ready to initiate a potential brawl.
Awareness of the lost advantage quickly reached the limited minds of the green monsters. With a menacing growl, the goblins stopped a few meters before the women.
There was a tense silence, during which sharp glances were exchanged. Fortunately, this was the only thing the disgusting monsters could afford.
The duo of women are stronger than a pair of average goblins, which the monster's instinct didn't forget to warn them about. Perhaps they would have succeeded in killing one of the women if all five had carried out a synchronized attack. However, in the meantime, the other one would have carried out a slaughter in the ranks of the monsters.
This time, the goblins had to do without a taste. Discouraged by their defeat, they retreated to a corner of the room, where a pile of bones awaited them.
The succubus-like woman led the retreating monsters away with her eyes, then assessed Ramiel's condition. The conclusions she came to horrified her. She could only describe the stranger's condition as critical. His complexion was slowly losing its healthy hue under the influence of blood loss, and his breathing had become shallow.
"Caera, can you manage to bandage him?" - The horned beauty nervously turned to the elfess. "If we don't do something, he will bleed to death."
The horned beauty took the initiative. She didn't know who the mysterious newcomer was or what his intentions were, but one thing was certain. The dungeon's core reacted to his arrival, which must mean something.
To let him die and squander a potential chance for a better future? Such a thing was unacceptable.
Caera looked at Ramiel uncertainly.
"I will try - I will try."
The elfess knelt by the man. She carefully removed the tattered rags that could once have been called clothing.
Caera looked with regret at the rest of the cloth she had recovered. She needed it to stop the bleeding, but with the current amount, she could bandage a few smaller wounds at most.
With a heavy heart, the woman removed her jacket, staying in just her bra. She cut it and, in a vigorous motion, tore the material into thinner strips, creating a makeshift bandage.
Now that she had the proper supplies, she could get to work. Caera wasn't an expert and had minimal experience in this field. Her movements were clumsy, and she often asked Asme for help. Nevertheless, Ramiel was treated within ten minutes. She burned the wounds for which there were insufficient bandages with a red-hot dagger.
Caera nervously shifted her gaze between the sleeping man and her hands bathed in purple liquid.
"Asme... he has lost a lot of blood... I - I don't know if he will come out of it." - Caera whispered sadly. The current situation had nailed her. She had done everything in her power to save the man, and he could still die. A sense of defeat surfaced in the back of her mind.
Asme bit her lip nervously. Could she afford to let him die? Of course not. The man was her ticket to a better life.
"Caera... without him, we won't survive two weeks... it's already hard for us." - Asme gave the elfess a pleading look. It was only up to her whether the man would live to see another day.
Caera hesitated. She didn't want to entrust her life into someone else's hands. After what she will do, she will become helpless. She doesn't even know him... What if the man kills her or, worse, rapes her?
But did she have a better alternative? No. She had none. Asme is right. They will both starve to death within two weeks.
Ceara slit her wrist, collecting the blood flowing out of it in her mouth. With her other finger, she used the blood to draw magical shapes on Ramiel's naked torso.
When she finished, their lips joined. The woman passed her blood through the kiss, making sure it was all swallowed.
The magic formation lit up, and Ramiel's body gradually turned pale.
Ceara turned pale and weak for a moment. With what was left of her strength, she looked at Asme.
"The rest is up to you." - With these words, the elfess fainted.