The sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows across the barren landscape. The group gathered in silence, catching their breath after the harrowing battle with the shadow creatures. Padrino stood at the cliff's edge, his eyes focused on the distant horizon, where the shadows seemed to stretch forever. He could feel the weight of the moment—a heavy silence settling over them all.
Hinata slumped against a rock, exhausted but victorious. Her face was pale, and she rubbed her temples as if trying to clear away the lingering effects of the dark magic. Marko and the soldiers were securing the perimeter, though the threat seemed to have passed, for now.
"What was that?" Padrino finally asked, breaking the silence. "That magic... it was like nothing we've encountered before."
Talon, who had been quietly inspecting the remnants of the shadow creatures, stood and approached Padrino. His expression was grave. "It's old magic, ancient even. I've read about it, but to see it in action... this was a powerful illusion. Someone—or something—is manipulating it."
Hinata looked up, her voice strained. "Illusion magic on this scale requires a tremendous source of power. Whoever cast it is not just a simple mage—they're a master."
Padrino clenched his fists. "But why? Why go to such lengths to ambush us out here? What do they hope to gain?"
Talon exchanged a glance with Hinata before speaking. "This wasn't just an attack. It was a message."
"A message?" Padrino asked, frowning. "What kind of message?"
Talon's eyes darkened. "A warning. Someone is trying to push us back, to keep us away from something. And judging by the magic we just encountered, whatever they're hiding, it's far more dangerous than we've imagined."
Marko approached, his face stern. "The men are shaken, but we're ready to move. We can't stay here for long. Whoever sent those creatures might be preparing for another attack."
Padrino nodded, his mind racing. "We need to keep moving, but cautiously. If this is a warning, we can't afford to ignore it. We need to find out what they're protecting—and why."
As they prepared to set off again, a sudden rustling in the nearby bushes made everyone freeze. Padrino's hand instinctively went to his sword, and the soldiers drew their weapons. Talon stepped forward, scanning the area with sharp eyes.
From the bushes emerged an old man, hunched and frail, dressed in tattered robes. His long, unkempt beard hung down to his chest, and his eyes were wide with fear. He raised his hands in surrender, his voice trembling.
"Please... don't harm me. I mean you no ill will."
Padrino signaled for the others to lower their weapons, but his guard remained up. "Who are you?" he demanded. "And what are you doing out here?"
The old man took a hesitant step forward, his eyes darting nervously from one person to another. "I am but a humble hermit. I live alone in these lands, far from the reaches of any kingdom."
Talon stepped forward, his voice sharp. "You must know something about the magic we encountered. That kind of power doesn't just appear out of nowhere."
The old man hesitated, then nodded slowly. "I do not know the source of the magic, but I have felt its presence for many moons now. Dark forces are at work in these lands. Something ancient, something that has been buried for centuries... is stirring."
Padrino's eyes narrowed. "Do you know where this power is coming from?"
The old man looked away, his face pale. "I have heard whispers of an old ruin, hidden deep within the mountains to the north. It is said that the ruin was once a temple, a place where the old gods were worshipped. But it was abandoned long ago, and the magic that lies within it has become twisted, corrupted."
Talon frowned. "A temple to the old gods? That would explain the ancient magic we encountered. But why now? Why has this power only begun to surface recently?"
The hermit shook his head. "I do not know. But I can take you there... if you wish."
Padrino exchanged a glance with his companions. He could feel the weight of the decision before him. The magic they were facing was beyond anything they had encountered before, and venturing deeper into the mountains could be walking into another trap. But they couldn't afford to turn back now. Not when the future of Rimuru was at stake.
"We'll go," Padrino said, his voice firm. "Lead the way."
The old man nodded, and with slow, deliberate steps, he led them deeper into the wilderness. The air grew colder as they traveled north, and the landscape became more desolate. The cliffs rose higher on either side, casting deep shadows across the path.
As they walked, Padrino couldn't shake the feeling that they were being watched. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, and his hand never strayed far from his sword. The others were equally on edge, their eyes scanning the terrain for any sign of danger.
After what felt like hours of travel, they reached the base of a mountain range. The old man stopped, pointing toward a narrow crevice in the rocks.
"The temple lies beyond this passage," he said quietly. "But beware... the magic within is not to be trifled with."
Padrino nodded, his resolve hardening. "We didn't come this far to turn back now."
As they entered the crevice, the air grew even colder, and the walls seemed to close in around them. The path twisted and turned, leading them deeper into the heart of the mountain. The only sound was the echo of their footsteps, and the occasional drip of water from the rocks above.
At last, they emerged into a vast, open chamber. The ceiling stretched high above them, and in the center of the room stood a massive stone altar, covered in strange, glowing runes. The air was thick with magic, and Padrino could feel it buzzing against his skin.
"This is it," Hinata whispered, her voice filled with awe and trepidation. "The source of the magic."
Padrino stepped forward, his eyes fixed on the altar. "Then it's time to put an end to this."
But as he approached the altar, the ground beneath him trembled, and a voice—deep and ancient—rumbled through the chamber.
"Who dares disturb the sanctity of the old gods?"
Padrino froze, his heart pounding in his chest. The voice seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere, echoing off the walls of the chamber.
"We mean no disrespect," Padrino called out, his voice steady. "But your magic threatens the world outside. We've come to stop it."
The voice laughed—a cold, hollow sound that sent shivers down Padrino's spine. "You are fools to think you can stop what has been set in motion. The power of the old gods cannot be contained by mere mortals."
Padrino tightened his grip on his sword. "We'll see about that."
With a burst of determination, he charged toward the altar, ready to confront whatever force awaited them.
But as the ground shook beneath his feet and the runes on the altar flared to life, Padrino realized that this battle would be unlike any they had fought before.