Now, a new decision awaited me: did I press on and brave possibly more traps, or double back and try another route? The prudent and logical course would have been to retrace my steps and choose a different course, but a part of me wanted to find out who had been responsible for the trap. To bring them to justice for their crime against me.

So, with my sword in hand and a stern resolve in my heart, I continued. My Holy Aura illuminated the path, parting the darkness with ease, yet I moved slowly at first, my recent encounter urging me to caution. I tapped each new tile with my sword, ears tuned for the telltale sound of clicking gears. However, as no new danger emerged, my caution began to fade. After taking another fifty steps, the monotony of my exploration was interrupted by the unveiling of another trap.

This time, there was no stone-carved message, just a wire stretched across the passageway at shin height. I chuckled at the simplicity of its design and, in my arrogance, I merely stepped over it. But this time, there was no audible click. Instead, I felt a brief shift in the air before something hit me from behind with the force of a stampeding bull, knocking the wind out of my lungs.

I coughed blood as I lay on the cool stone floor, feasting on a rare banquet of pain. Something vital inside of me had broken, and I wanted to do nothing more than curl up into a ball. The voices within, ever my companions, whispered encouragement and urged me to live. Shock threatened to overwhelm me, but somehow I found it within me to cast my basic Heal spell, giving shape to the incantation. The magic of the spell raced against the damage that threatened to undo me. For a moment it was a close thing, but Heal, bolstered by Holy Aura, won the day.

Regenerating flesh strained against impacted steel. The groan of metal was followed by a popping sound. Though my cuirass still felt very tight, at least now I could breathe. The crushing pressure about my chest was now relieved.

I drank deeply of the stale musty air, the heady substance of life filling my lungs. Of the thing that had struck me, there was no sign. Struggling to my feet, a hysterical sob came over me. I had faced yet another close call with my fragile mortality.

Incongruously, tears of embarrassment, of all things, tracked down my face. I felt only glad that here, alone in this bleak place, there had been no one to witness my misfortune. This was the price for letting my guard down, and in turn, the vicissitudes of fate had not been kind.

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There were two new notifications that I had completely failed to register. One of which was a gain to Constitution, followed by another that grated and set a fire to my belly, dispelling my self-pity.

You have learned Trap Detection (lvl.1)

Heedless and uncaring of other things that may lay in wait in the darkness, I screamed in frustration with the full force of newly-healed lungs. I had thrown caution to the wind. Let them come. Let all of them come.

Yet, none were drawn to my challenge. Not beast nor revenant, and the silence swallowed up my pathetic battle cry. With my face growing hot at my momentary lapse of control, I decided it best to put some distance between here and whatever might be coming for me.

I could not discern what my new Trap skill was doing exactly. Was it a passive skill, or something I had to directly invoke? At level one, it was not something I could rely on to shield me. So, I proceeded with caution, worry hounding each of my steps. Luck must have been with me, for I encountered no new traps.

Finally, after an eternity of slow plodding progress, I arrived at what I could only assume to be a large hall. Light did not diffuse naturally in this place. The golden light of my Holy Aura provided only a small sphere of illumination, stopping at a certain point and leaving the rest of the room submerged in a murky gray. Despite these conditions, I could still see that this place was lined with finely-crafted and highly-detailed statues on raised plinths. Carved from fine marble, they were of a monstrous aspect. Amalgamations of man and exotic beast, meticulously crafted with lifelike precision. Trapped, frozen forever in their own existence and horrific in their exquisite art.

In stark contrast to the statues, at the end of the hall was a large crude altar. A monolith to the profane. I moved closer to the simple stone construction as if drawn by some other force. A presence that was alien, yet tantalizingly familiar, filled this foreboding place. Then all there was, all that existed, was a shouted command, demanding obedience, that reverberated through my soul.

“KNEEL!” cried a female voice filled with divine authority.

My knees almost buckled at the force of the command. The dark voices rallied behind me, propping up my flagging will with their own.

“KNEEL! Bow down before the presence of Iasis, Mother of Monsters, Mistress of the Twisted Helix,” the voice intoned again, though this time I could feel its influence over me weaken. Almost imperceptibly weaken, but still, weaken nonetheless.

“No…” I cried hoarsely, the long-smoldering coals of rebellion turning into a hot flame. I was in the presence of a godling, and I would not accept their authority over me.