The guard froze, his reddish eyes widening at the scene.
An empty pedestal.
Dismantled Wards.
And two intruders that broke into the backroom.
One visible in the shadows, their form obscured, but the scarlet eyes gazed at him like a monster lurking in the dark. The other remained motionless, their ominous figure looming like a specter, wearing a bone-white mask that exuded terror in the darkness.
"How dare you steal from the Ashen Veil!"
Violence flashed in his eyes and his hand reached for the sword's hilt, unsheathing its sharp edge. But Abaddon never gave him the opportunity, the former's hand darting quickly as it aimed the susceptible neck.
The impact sent the guard's body flying to the ceiling, blood gushing out of his mouth as his eyes rolled back to his head.
Azzel's sharp eyes noticed an object falling out of the city guard's grasp, its shape familiar to him. A dark tendril lashed out, wrapping itself around the object, and grabbed it towards him.
"The obelisk!" he muttered while reaching out for another fabric and wrapping it around his hand.
The symbols etched on its smooth surface glowed like a reflection of his eyes, feeling a chaotic rhythm pulsing with the relic stored on his ring. Faint hums of unknown origin whispered into his ears, their indistinct shallow voices ringing into his ears.
Azzel put it away from his head and sensed the chaos subsiding.
"An interesting object," he was intrigued. 'Why did that guard carry it here? It must be something important to their plans.'
A loud thud jolted him out of his trance. The city guard had fallen to the floor, causing a tremendous bang to reverberate throughout the vast warehouse.
Abaddon straightened and quickly unsheathed the massive sword hanging from his waist. His muscles tightened and he adjusted in front of Azzel, concealing his master's figure from the outside. "That alerted them."
"I know. Let's move out now!"
Azzel's eyes narrowed as he held the obelisk at his side. He didn't know what would happen if he moved it closer to the orb, and now wasn't the time to investigate.
As they began to retreat, an explosion rang out in the air. Lightning flashed in front of the warehouse before tearing through the metal gates, blasting away shards of iron and wood across the floor.
The wave of lightning surged through space, smashing apart the containers and splintering the beams in its path. It tore through the ceiling, the projectile nowhere to be found.
Azzel staggered backward, his feet trembling under the blast's shockwave. His back hit the wooden desk and put his hands in an attempt to balance himself.
Dust and dirt clogged the entrance, casting silhouettes of numerous persons stepping out. Their footsteps resounded against the charred stone floor, projecting an air of authority and power.
A woman with piercing storm-gray eyes and chestnut hair neatly secured behind her head led the way. Her athletic physique and ceremonial armor gleamed dimly in the flickering light, and a faint buzz of lightning crackled around the sword in her grip.
"Don't move," she commanded, her tone cold and sharp. Her stormy eyes fixed on the bony-white masked figure, taking in the scene with a calculated look.
"I am Lucia Stormwind, Leader of the Knights of Glory. I demand you step down and stop whatever you are doing!" her voice was loud and firm, giving others no way out.
Behind her, more figures stepped out into view, knights clad in gold or silver with their weapons drawn showing an unreadable expression of the situation. Their presence filled the room with tension.
Azzel's lips curled into a smile, masking the unease bubbling in his heart. "Well... this is inconvenient."
Under Abaddon's cover, he channeled his dark magic force and used his Concealment ability. The darkness enveloped his figure and he ran towards the stairs.
"Specter, cover me."
Lucia noticed unusual fluctuations at the back, her senses screaming that someone was using magic. Her body reacted instinctively as she enveloped her body in lightning, illuminating the entire warehouse with her godlike body.
She dashed forward with amazing speed, hoping to catch the figure hiding behind the masked man. A whistling sound followed her, spinning around a glowing arrow pointed directly at him.
She shifted to the sides yet found herself meeting the gaze of the bone-white masked man. In that short moment, Abaddon launched a swift attack aiming at her chest.
Her eyes widened, instantly reversing her sword technique mid-air and deflecting the strike at the last second. The rebounding force sent her crashing into the wall, a feat that shocked her teammates.
"What?!"
"How did they catch the leader's speed?"
"Oh? Leader's finally getting caught!"
"Engage them!" Lucia gritted her teeth as she pushed off the wall fragments stuck on her body, frustration visible on her face. "Don't let them get away!"
"Hmph!" Abaddon harrumphed as he held the large sword across his chest.
A towering knight charged at him, equipped with a flaming war hammer, half a time larger than his sword. The weapon swung in a large arc with flames trailing as the blunt side aimed his ribs.
Abaddon sidestepped, narrowly evading the attack. The war hammer crashed on the wall and tore a large piece.
Abaddon shifted his eyes and gazed at the approaching twin dark daggers aimed at his heart. He raised his left hand, caught the first dagger, and let the other stab through his undead body.
The blurry figure of a woman emerged, her hands quivering. "You-you're not alive!" exclaimed the voice behind the veil, horrified.
"Thank you for noticing." Abaddon snorted, his tone filled with contempt. He took the dagger from her grasp before slapping her away with such force that it sent her crashing into the crates.
The war hammer swung again in a fiery arc, its bulky wielder bellowing at his ears. "You're not getting away!"
Abaddon's eyes narrowed as he released his large sword and crossed his enlarged arms, feeling a heavy mountain crash into him. The ground fractured under great force, and the elevation change deflected the war hammer to the side.
He threw the dagger with his left hand, aiming for the arrow that whistled through the air. The two projectiles collided, deflecting each other in opposite directions.
"Wha--?!" a faint gasp resounded, coming from a humanoid creature with long ears holding an enchanted longbow. His hands remained over his quiver, thinking how Abaddon managed to evade both attacks quickly.
Abaddon grabbed the long sword and stomped on the buried war hammer, using it as a platform before somersaulting directly into the stairs and deeper into the darkness. His exposed bone-white mask left a trail of a terrifying figure waiting for his prey to be drawn further.
The knights rushed in but stopped after they lost sight of his mask. Lucia stood at the forefront, her brows furrowed as she stared at the mysterious labyrinth ahead.
"Damn it!" she gripped her fist and punched a hole in the wall, her gloves squeaking in response, "We let them get away from our grasp!"
The bulky knight wielding the war hammer stepped forward with a grunt. "Leader, that masked person is no ordinary warrior. It's not a matter of-"
"How dare you excuse yourself like that?" Lucia snapped and glared at him. "If you all charged earlier, maybe we wouldn't be in this mess!"
The reprimanded knight stiffened, his mouth twitching but held his tongue. The others exchanged glances, feeling uneasy about the situation.
Lucia waved her hand away and took a deep breath. "Enough. Send a message to the other teams and surround this area. Lock up those city guards and investigate traces of the Ashen Veil!"
Her eyes sharpened as she turned to her closest teammates. "Kaelen, Aria, and Lyra come with me! We'll pursue them in these tunnels!"
Kaelen, a young Vaelorian elf stepped forward, his hands clutching tightly on his longbow inscribed with various glowing runes. "Lucia, these caves are dangerous. If the Ashen Veil is involved, then-"
"You don't have to tell me that," Lucia hardened her resolve, "We're going because it's dangerous. Whether they're cultists or not, time will tell. If you don't dare to follow me, you can take your armor off and leave."
Some of them frowned, finding the pursuit too dangerous.
"Captain..." a petite woman shyly intervened but Lucia stopped her.
She turned around and gripped her sword fiercely. 'This is far from over. Just you wait.'
Flickers of lightning swirled around the blade, her footsteps rhyming.
The group knew she had made her choice. The bulky knight tapped Kaelen's shoulder, his hands clutching it. "Take care of her for us."
Kaelen nodded, "Don't worry about it. We'll return shortly, Darin."
Kaelen's group followed after Lucia's silhouette, their eyes sharp and their mind perceptive.
Meanwhile, Azzel crouched on a spot hundreds of meters away surrounded by darkness and the ominous presence lingering around. The obelisk hung on a makeshift fabric in his side, casting eerie patterns across the walls.
He spread his dark magic around him, scanning every surface and probing any disturbance.
"It's been a while," his voice low and rasp. "Abaddon should be here by now."
The wind suddenly rustled, startling Azzel as he tilted his head over. His hand instinctively gathered the dark power around him, preparing for an attack.
In the darkness, a bone-white mask materialized. Its crimson markings eerily depicted the arrival of a specter. Azzel's heart jumped, cursing in response. "Damn it, don't startle me like that!"
Abaddon slowed his approach. "I... did not mean it." he stopped and placed his hand over his chest, gesturing a genuine apology.
Azzel exhaled heavily and calmed his nerves. He stood up and placed his hands on the stone wall, feeling the faint earthly resonance pulsing like a heartbeat. His mind drifted into the earth, an incomplete layout forming in his mind.
"There's a long passage here leading to the Darkwood District. It's far safer than if we take the other routes."
"Those knights might be on to us." Abaddon glanced back, his hand never leaving the hilt of his sword.
Azzel chuckled, finding the thought amusing. "Let them. They have other things to worry about than just us."
Abaddon nodded, his eyes narrowing as he adjusted to the dark surroundings. The silence in the tunnels formed an oppressive atmosphere, and neither pair took the initiative to break it.
They moved deeper into the tunnels, their movements gradually syncing with repetition. Yet no matter how far they traveled, Azzel couldn't shake the sensation of being observed. His eyes darted around, clutching his cloak, wary of any threat that might arise from the shadows.
The resonating aura ignored his caution, and the gradual increase in rhythm muddled his thoughts. He shook his head, tilting around like a madman till he stumbled into a wall and thudded the dust away.
He leaned heavily against it with hastened breaths as countless faint voices whispered into his ears. They simultaneously came from nowhere and everywhere, the relentless unintelligible words clawing his sanity away.
His reddish eyes widened at the sight of flickering scenes rolling around his mind, the haunting images of the dead sprawled in a ruined city flashed before him, each one more vivid and jarring than the last. They merged into a chaotic swirl, driving him to hold his head and grunt heavily.
Abaddon rushed over and grabbed Azzel. His heavy strides echoed through the ancient passageways, leaving deep footprints in the earth as his legs strained against the growing tension. His eyes shifted between Azzel's pale face and the ominous surroundings, his grip on his master firm but careful.
"Master," Abaddon rumbled, his voice steady despite the jittering feeling, "What happened to you?!"
Azzel didn't respond, his body quivering as if fighting something unknown. Abaddon's gaze darkened. He couldn't understand what happened to his master, but he was certain that this place offered them nothing but foreboding danger.
The familiar inscriptions on the walls passed through his eyes, hinting at a point that may have driven his master's plight. 'These walls... might have done something to master. I can feel that presence too; its aura denser than I have felt before. But why does it not affect me?'
After what felt like an eternity, Azzel's breathing began to steady, though his face remained pale, a stark contrast to his glowing scarlet eyes.
"I'm... fine," he finally muttered. His voice was feeble and lacked the usual sharpness. "Let me down here first."
Abaddon put Azzel down with his back leaning against the wall. Abaddon studied him silently, his expression unreadable beneath the bone-white mask.
"Master, this place is not normal," he said after a pause, "We should leave as soon as possible."
Azzel exhaled deeply, his eyes narrowing as he straightened. "Not yet. There's something about this place, something ancient. I need to understand it, those images, the city. I-"
His voice was suddenly cut off by a light chuckle, carrying a mix of intrigue and mockery. The pair tensed, their heads sharply turning around to find its source. Abaddon's hands immediately went to the hilt of his large sword.
A voice, smooth yet filled with amusement, echoed. "Curiosity can be dangerous, especially in a place like this."
Azzel locked his gaze into a figure emerging from the darkness. Cloaked in flowing, dark fabric that seemed to distort everything around it, the stranger's face was obscured by a hood, their features indiscernible. Yet they radiate an unspeakable confidence under their mysterious approach.
"You again?!" Azzel widened his eyes and was shocked to see this figure here. "What are you doing here?!"
The stranger let out a faint smirk, the sound unnaturally echoing in the confined space. "Is that really the question in your heart? Are you not curious about this place?"
"Just say what you want to say," Azzel frowned, "I'm not good with riddles."
"The doors to the ancients will open up to those who are worthy," the stranger spoke, their face brimming with a smile, "You... are not one of them. No, not yet. And so, your begins now,"
Their right hand moved gracefully in the air, leaving a golden trail that shimmered from a small card. Black specks scattered across its surface, making it look lifelike and unnatural.
The stranger looked at Azzel, waving the card in front of his eyes. "This... is your key. A path to your understanding and survival, if you are wise enough to use it."
Azzel studied the card, its intricate design drawing his attention despite the eerie feeling in his heart. "What's this supposed to mean?" he asked, doubtful and cautious about the stranger's intentions.
The latter's smile widened, "Consider it a key to a greater world, or a trap leading you to your doom, depending on how well you play your game."
Azzel raised an eyebrow, his suspicion evident, but his composure faltered as the stranger's next words struck like a dagger.
"But there's no need for worry," the stranger continued, their tone laced with knowing confidence. "After all, isn't that your specialty?"
Azzel froze, his words stuck in his throat. The sudden remarks hit a lock on his mind, the memories resurfacing like a tide. Was it a calculated jab? A hint of familiarity? Or just a dumb yet eerily lucky guess? He could not tell, even if he gazed at that enigmatic face.
Then he realized something. Their words were deliberate, almost predatory as if they sought to provoke and unsettle his mind. Azzel twisted his fingers, curling into a fist to dissipate the unease in his chest.
He didn't know if the stranger spoke of it coincidentally or intentionally, but he understood that this person wasn't someone to be underestimated.
The golden card caught his attention again, its surface rippling faintly and enticing him to take it. His jaw tightened as he extended his hand, determination radiating underneath his wary gaze.
"If this is a game," Azzel said, "Then I'll make the rules and play it."
The stranger retracted their now-empty hands and turned around, the long cloak brushing along the ground making faint noises in the silent passage. "If fate allows it," their voice trailed off, "we will meet again."
Abaddon's tensed posture eased up, his eyes fixed on the stranger's figure disappearing into the darkness.
Azzel stood up and heaved a sigh of relief, then momentarily remembered something. "Wait, we're not done here!"
He called out while his attention flicked into the storage ring, intending to inspect the orb they had risked to retrieve. His hands froze as the glow he expected to find was nowhere to be seen.
On its place was a small pile of books rested neatly, their covers a mix of worn and new yet inscribed with unfamiliar symbols.
"What, you-!" he exclaimed as he glanced ahead, trying to seek a glimpse of that figure once again.
Abaddon turned to him, "Master?"
"The orb," Azzel gasped, "It's gone. These..."
He unconsciously took out one of them, finding its title familiar.
Shadows: A Guide to Dark Magic and Its History