Chapter 20
The Weight of Loss
The aftermath of Richard's death settled over the group like a dark cloud, suffocating and heavy. The air was thick with a silence that none of them dared to break. The loss of their comrade had hit harder than any battle they'd fought.
Caelan sat quietly by the fire, his usual lighthearted demeanor nowhere to be found. His hands rested on his knees, his eyes staring into the flames, but his mind was miles away. He could still see Richard's face—the fear in his eyes right before he exploded. The memory replayed over and over, a loop of failure that he couldn't escape from.
"Richard..." Caelan's voice was barely above a whisper, his throat tight with emotion.
Zaimond was sitting nearby, his usual sarcasm and quips missing. He stared up at the stars, though he wasn't really looking at anything. "I didn't even... get to say anything," he muttered. His fists clenched tightly, his nails digging into his palms. "It's so messed up. He didn't deserve that."
Caelan glanced at him, the pain mirrored in Zaimond's usually guarded eyes. They had all lost something today, but Zaimond—he never showed his emotions. This was the first time Caelan had seen him genuinely upset, and it only deepened the guilt in his chest.
Elden, on the other hand, stood a bit away from the group, his arms crossed and his eyes scanning the horizon. He was quieter than usual, but not in the same way as the others. There was a hardness to him, like he had already prepared himself for moments like this. His heart ached for Richard, but deep down, Elden knew that in their line of work, this was inevitable.
He sighed heavily, knowing his role was to be the steady one, the pillar in the storm. "We knew this could happen," Elden finally said, his voice low but steady. "Richard... he knew the risks. We all do."
Caelan's eyes snapped up to him, anger flickering behind the grief. "That doesn't make it easier, Elden. He was our friend. He trusted us, and I—" His voice cracked, and he couldn't finish the sentence.
Elden softened his tone, stepping closer. "I'm not saying it doesn't hurt, Caelan. I'm saying we can't let it destroy us. Richard wouldn't want that."
For a moment, the two stared at each other, the crackling of the fire the only sound. Caelan knew Elden was right—he always was—but it didn't make the pain any less.
Velldora Rul, still in his pendant form, hummed softly as he observed the group's sorrow. Though he couldn't speak, his presence radiated warmth. He had been through countless battles, and he understood the pain of losing comrades. It was a wound that never truly healed, but it was a burden that warriors like them had to carry.
Kassian Kinji, leaning against a nearby tree, watched them all quietly. He wasn't the type to show emotion easily, but tonight was different. He had known Richard longer than the others. Richard had been his student, and though Kassian wasn't the most sentimental person, losing him hit hard.
"Damn, kid," Kassian finally muttered, flipping his coin in his hand, the gesture slower than usual. "You were supposed to get out of this mess."
Caelan looked up at Kassian, his eyes narrowing. "Wait, you knew Richard? He never said anything."
Kassian shrugged, but there was no humor in his usual carefree attitude. "Yeah. Taught him a few tricks with magic. Kid had a sharp mind, a lot of potential. Could've been something great."
Zaimond leaned back, staring at Kassian in disbelief. "Richard? Seriously? Why didn't he ever tell us?"
Kassian flipped the coin once more, catching it in his palm. "Richard wasn't the type to brag. He was smart, kept his cards close to his chest. I liked that about him. He knew when to play it safe... except this time."
The weight of Kassian's words hit them all. Richard had been more than just a merchant—he had been a key part of their group, always thinking ahead, always planning. And now, he was gone.
Caelan clenched his fists, anger bubbling up beneath the surface. "This isn't fair," he said, his voice trembling. "None of this is fair."
"It never is," Elden replied, his tone firm but not unkind. "We don't get to choose how or when it happens. But we have to keep going, for him."
Kassian nodded, his eyes sharp as he spoke, "Elden's right. Richard wouldn't want us sitting around, moping. He'd want us to use our heads and figure out a way to beat this."
The fire crackled as Caelan stood up, brushing the dirt off his hands. His expression was determined, though the sadness still lingered in his eyes. "We can't let Vinseno win. We can't let his death be for nothing."
Zaimond stood as well, his usual smirk gone but a new resolve in his eyes. "Yeah. Let's make sure that bastard pays for what he did."
Velldora Rul's pendant glowed faintly, sensing the shift in their emotions. Though he remained silent, his presence was a reminder of the strength they still had together.
Kassian flipped his coin one last time before pocketing it, his demeanor more serious than they had ever seen. "We'll take down Vinseno, and then we'll deal with the Demon Lords. But we have to stay sharp. No more slip-ups."
Caelan nodded, his heart heavy but resolute. "For Richard."
As the group gathered around the fire, the weight of their loss still pressed down on them, but now it was tempered with purpose. They knew the journey ahead would be brutal, but they weren't going to let it stop them.
They had lost a friend, but they wouldn't lose the fight.
And somewhere, deep within the shadows of the world, Vinseno was waiting for them—more powerful than ever, more dangerous than they could imagine.
But this time, they wouldn't face him unprepared.
This time, they would be ready.
---
Echos of the Dark
The night was eerily still. The wind barely moved, and the stars above seemed distant, as if the universe itself was holding its breath. Caelan sat by the fire, the embers glowing dimly as he absentmindedly poked at them with a stick. The quiet, once peaceful, now felt oppressive, as if something sinister lurked just out of reach.
And then, it started.
A low, deep chuckle—faint at first, almost like the distant murmur of thunder. Caelan's heart skipped a beat as the sound grew louder, wrapping itself around his thoughts, twisting in his mind. It was unmistakable.
Vinseno's laugh.
The laughter slithered through Caelan's consciousness like a serpent, wrapping itself around his thoughts, squeezing them until it was the only thing he could hear. His body tensed, his grip tightening around the stick in his hand as if it were the only anchor keeping him grounded in reality.
"You think you can escape me?" The voice was everywhere and nowhere, echoing within the walls of his mind. "You think this little setback changes anything?"
Caelan shot up from his seat, his breath coming in shallow gasps as his eyes darted around the camp. The others hadn't noticed anything. Elden was sharpening his sword, Zaimond was lying on his back, staring up at the stars, and Kassian was flipping his coin lazily as usual. None of them seemed to hear it.
But it was there. It was real.
"Richard... he never had a chance," Vinseno's voice hissed, dripping with venom. "You watched him die, Caelan. You let him die."
"No," Caelan muttered, his voice barely audible. He gritted his teeth, pressing his palms to his temples as if trying to physically block out the voice. "Shut up. Shut up."
Zaimond glanced over at him, raising an eyebrow. "You good, Caelan? You look like you've seen a ghost."
Caelan didn't respond. The laughter was getting louder, more insistent, like nails scraping against his skull. He could feel it now—Vinseno's presence, lingering just beyond the veil of reality, mocking him, tormenting him.
"I'll haunt you forever, boy," Vinseno's voice snarled. "You'll never be rid of me. I live in your failure. I live in every mistake you make." The laughter turned into a cacophony, a relentless barrage of sound that felt like it would shatter his mind.
"Caelan?" Elden's voice cut through the fog, snapping him back to reality. He was standing now, concern etched across his usually stoic face. "What's going on?"
Caelan's chest heaved, his eyes wild as he looked at Elden, struggling to pull himself together. "Vinseno," he whispered hoarsely, his voice barely holding together. "I can hear him... in my head."
Elden's expression darkened immediately. "That bastard's still alive, somehow."
Kassian flipped his coin again, the metallic sound cutting through the tense atmosphere. "Alive? He's more like a nasty virus at this point. Guy just doesn't know when to quit." His eyes narrowed as he turned towards Caelan, his tone more serious than usual. "What's he saying?"
Caelan swallowed hard, his throat dry. "He's laughing. Taunting me about Richard. Saying... saying I let him die."
Zaimond's face hardened, his usual laid-back attitude gone. "That's low. Even for him."
"He's trying to mess with you, Caelan," Elden said, stepping closer, his hand resting on Caelan's shoulder. "Don't let him in. He's feeding off your guilt."
Caelan took a shaky breath, his heart pounding. He knew Elden was right, but the weight of Vinseno's words clung to him like a shadow he couldn't shake. The image of Richard's death flashed in his mind again, the explosion, the look of fear in his friend's eyes, the helplessness he felt in that moment.
"I should've saved him," Caelan muttered, his voice trembling. "I could've done something—anything—"
Kassian clicked his tongue, tossing the coin into the air before catching it effortlessly. "Yeah, well, hindsight's always twenty-twenty, kid. You can beat yourself up all you want, but it's not gonna bring him back." He locked eyes with Caelan, his gaze piercing. "What matters is what you do now. Are you gonna let that smug jerk win? Or are you gonna get up and fight back?"
The fire crackled softly, casting flickering shadows across Caelan's face. The weight of Kassian's words hit him hard, but they also sparked something within him—a flicker of determination that had been smothered by guilt. He clenched his fists, the sound of Vinseno's laughter still echoing faintly in his mind, but now it wasn't as overpowering.
"We'll make him pay," Caelan said, his voice steadier now, the edge of resolve creeping back in. "Not just for Richard, but for everything."
Elden gave a firm nod. "Good. We'll face him together. No more holding back."
Zaimond stood up, brushing off his cloak. "And when we do, I'm gonna wipe that smug grin off his face for good."
Kassian grinned, flipping his coin one last time. "Now that's the spirit. Let's show him why he should've stayed dead the first time."
As they prepared to move forward, Caelan could still feel the faint remnants of Vinseno's presence lingering in the back of his mind, but it no longer held the same power over him. The voice was weaker now, more distant. But Caelan knew this wasn't over. Vinseno would come back. He always did.
But next time, they'd be ready.
And this time, they wouldn't let him get away.
---
The Dark Castle of Wajimour
The scene opens with a sweeping view of the once-glorious Castle Wajimour, one of the grand fortresses of Solaria, now corrupted and twisted by the forces of darkness. The castle's towers reach into the sky like jagged claws, their once-white stones now a dull, ashen gray. The atmosphere is thick with a heavy, oppressive aura, as if the very air itself had been tainted by something ancient and sinister.
Inside, the halls are dimly lit by flickering torches. The sounds of faint whispers echo through the stone corridors, their source unknown. The grandeur of this place is long gone, replaced with an unsettling, eerie stillness.
The camera moves through the winding corridors, eventually leading to a vast, shadowy throne room. At the far end, two enormous thrones stand side by side, draped in tattered banners of old Solaria, now barely recognizable under layers of dust and decay. The figures sitting upon them are shrouded in mystery—two Demon Kings, their identities still cloaked in darkness. Their forms are obscured, their faces hidden beneath deep hoods. Only their glowing, malevolent eyes are visible, burning with a hunger for destruction.
Suddenly, the heavy doors to the throne room creak open, and the atmosphere shifts. A cold, menacing presence fills the air as Vinseno strides into the room, his steps slow and deliberate, his aura oppressive. The smug charisma that usually radiated from him is now replaced with something much darker, much more dangerous. His eyes gleam with a predatory hunger, his lips curled into a twisted grin.
As he walks forward, his footsteps echo ominously, and the very shadows seem to bow in his presence. The Demon Kings remain silent, their attention fixed on Vinseno as he approaches the thrones.
Without a word, Vinseno stops at the foot of the steps leading up to the thrones, his head slightly bowed as if acknowledging the power of the two Demon Kings before him. But there's no reverence in his gesture—only the cold calculation of a man who knows his place in this dangerous game.
The silence stretches for a long moment before one of the Demon Kings finally speaks, his voice low and gravelly, like rocks grinding against each other.
Demon King 8: "You've returned."
Vinseno smirks, his eyes flickering with a sinister amusement. "Did you ever doubt it?" His voice is smooth, but there's an edge to it, a sharpness that suggests he's holding back something much darker beneath the surface.
The second Demon King, his voice deeper and more menacing than the first, speaks next.
Demon King 9: "And the light? The one who opposes us?"
Vinseno's smile widens, his eyes gleaming with malice. "Oh, he's struggling. But that's what makes it fun." His voice drips with sadistic glee. "They think they've beaten me. But they don't realize... I am the darkness that never dies."
The two Demon Kings remain silent, but their auras pulse with a dangerous, ominous energy. They do not trust Vinseno, that much is clear. But for now, they need him.
The first Demon King leans forward slightly, his glowing eyes narrowing. "The Red Sun grows stronger. Time is short."
Vinseno's grin falters for a brief moment, his eyes darkening. "I know. I've felt its power."
Demon King 9: "Then you know what must be done."
A dark chuckle escapes Vinseno's lips. "Oh, I know. This world will be ours... and the light will fall, once and for all."
As the camera zooms in on Vinseno's face, his expression turns cold, his eyes gleaming with unspoken malice. The tension in the room rises as his aura pulses with growing intensity, intertwining with the oppressive power of the Demon Kings.
Vinseno: "Let them come. I'll be waiting."
The camera pans out, revealing the three figures standing in the vast, decaying throne room—two Demon Kings and Vinseno, united by a shared hunger for destruction. The flickering flames of the torches cast long shadows across the stone floor, and the scene fades to black as Vinseno's chilling laughter echoes through the ancient halls of Castle Wajimour.
---
End Credit Scene