The hooded man spoke, his voice cold and filled with authority, "Who gave the courage to a mere mortal to even step foot in this place?" His words reverberated like a distant echo in the suffocating silence, carrying with them a pressure that seemed to press against my chest. I was confused—my body stiff, rooted to the spot. I couldn't speak, the weight of his gaze and the energy around him paralyzing me.
He continued, his tone almost mocking. "You don't belong here. This place... it's not meant for the likes of you."
His words cut through me like a sharp blade, but I held my ground, though my palms were slick with sweat. My heart thudded loudly in my chest, the sound echoing in my ears. The cold sweat trickling down my spine only made my anxiety worse. He didn't move—just stood there, staring, as if waiting for me to react. Something wasn't right. I could feel it in my gut, like a heavy presence pressing down on me from all directions.
The silence stretched, each second feeling like an eternity. The air around him was dense, unnatural. Then, a small flicker of hesitation in his eyes caught my attention. His fingers twitched ever so slightly, and for the first time, he seemed... uncertain. His posture was rigid, but there was a subtle shift. As if he knew something I didn't. A strange twinge of doubt flickered within me. What was he hiding?
My mind raced. The air grew colder. I felt the energy in the space shift—the very atmosphere seemed charged with something sinister, and I knew he wasn't alone. Something was coming.
"Who... are you?" I finally managed to whisper, my voice trembling despite myself.
The hooded man sneered, his lips curling upward. "I am a member of the Void Cult," he hissed, the words like poison dripping from his tongue. "And if you dare try anything... the shadows of my cult will consume you. Don't even think of killing me. I'm not so easily dealt with."
His words rang in the air, almost as if he were trying to convince himself as much as me. I watched his every movement, trying to see through his words, to understand his intentions. There was a sickening sense of inevitability in his voice, but something about his demeanor gave me pause. His confidence wavered just beneath the surface.
"But you're just a mortal," he added with disdain, his eyes narrowing. "You can't even step into the realm of cultivators. What do you think you can do?"
The insult stung, but it only fueled my determination. The villagers—those innocent people—had suffered because of him and his cult. The anger rose in me like a tidal wave, and with it, a surge of power coursed through me.
I couldn't let him walk away. I had to stop him, no matter the cost.
I reached for the amulet around my neck, the one that had granted me powers I barely understood. My fingers trembled as I activated its invisibility function, disappearing from sight. I moved silently, stepping closer to him, my breath shallow as I moved within range of his protective formation.
Would it work? Would the amulet even protect me? A part of me doubted, but I couldn't back down. This was my only chance.
The amulet flickered to life, and I could feel its energy wrap around me like an invisible shield. I stepped through the formation, sensing the barrier push back at me, but I held my ground. My heartbeat quickened. I was in.
Without hesitation, I kicked him hard, aiming for his chest, but his body felt like solid rock. My foot barely moved him from his place. His posture remained unyielding. This man—this cultist—was as stubborn as he was dangerous.
Frustration surged through me, but I quickly recovered. I activated another function of the amulet, a protective barrier. It flared to life around me in a shimmering, translucent dome that extended outwards in a three-foot radius. As the barrier expanded, I could feel the energy radiating from it, pushing the hooded man backward.
The look in his eyes turned from arrogance to panic. "What—what is this?" he stammered, stepping back. His gaze shifted to the barrier surrounding me, then to the ground beneath him. "I can't... I can't leave," he muttered, voice barely a whisper. It was then that I understood.
His formation acted as both a cage and a protection—keeping him in place, preventing him from running, yet keeping him safe from outside threats. He was trapped, and so was I.
But he wasn't entirely without options.
With a surge of energy, the hooded man reached up, his hand glowing with dark power. He sent a burst of energy toward a small talisman paper hidden beneath his cloak. The air crackled with malevolent energy as a flash of gold light erupted from the paper.
Something shot out from his hood—a dark, formless shape—and it darted off into the shadows, vanishing without a trace. A secret signal. A call for help.
He'd sent word to his cult, but it was too late.
The barrier pressed forward, expelling him from his protected position. As his body was thrust out of the formation, something twisted in the air, an oppressive darkness filling the space. From the depths of the formation, dark entities began to emerge. They were grotesque, with shifting shadows for bodies and glowing red eyes. Their forms were made of writhing tendrils of darkness, and they moved with a predatory hunger.
I could feel the bile rise in my throat as the dark entities lunged toward him. The air grew thick with the stench of decay, and I could hear the sickening sound of the creatures feeding on his energy, devouring him piece by piece. His screams echoed, but they were quickly drowned out by the gurgling of the shadowy creatures. His body began to disintegrate as they consumed him, his soul torn apart by their ravenous hunger.
I stepped back, unwilling to witness more of the grotesque scene. My stomach churned, and I could feel the weight of what had just happened pressing down on me. This man had been part of something far bigger and more dangerous than I'd realized.
But as the last remnants of the hooded man were consumed, I turned away, my heart pounding in my chest. I had no time to mourn. The village needed me.
I ran toward the village, my feet pounding the earth as I pushed myself faster. I could see the lights of the village in the distance, shining bright under the dark sky. The lights were not the flickering glow of lamps or torches—they were the souls of the villagers, their spirits glowing with an ethereal light. Some souls were already beginning to disperse, unable to hold their form any longer, but as I drew closer, they seemed to sense my presence and slowed their departure.
The villagers, even in their spiritual form, were waiting for me. I could feel their eyes on me, their hopes rising as I approached. My chest tightened with emotion. I wasn't just fighting for survival anymore; I was fighting to restore them, to give them a chance to live beyond the shadows of this curse.