Novels2Search
Penance: Prison Of The Gods [Check out my new story!]
Chapter One-Hundred-And-seventy-six: Rod: The Tomb Of Chanchydia, Part 5

Chapter One-Hundred-And-seventy-six: Rod: The Tomb Of Chanchydia, Part 5

I whistled low under my breath, gripping the mace tighter. It was heavier than it looked, but not in a bad way. As I swung it experimentally, the air seemed to hum, a soft vibration that tingled in my palm. I felt the weight of the moment settle in. This wasn’t just any weapon—it was an edge, a heartbeat ahead of the enemy’s next move.

Yeah, this will definitely come in handy.

“Pretty sweet,” I muttered, watching the faint glow pulse from the head of the mace. Each pulse felt like a warning, a quiet whisper of power just waiting to be unleashed.

Maris, meanwhile, had snagged himself a dagger. Sleek, sharp, and—judging by his smirk—probably laced with more than just a bit of enchantment. He also pocketed a pile of coins, though he didn’t bother sharing how much. Typical. I watched his fingers close around the gold, quick and practiced, like a snake snatching its prey.

Probably thinks I didn’t notice. But I did.

“So, one ruin down,” I said, giving the mace another swing. “You said there’s a couple more?”

“Yeah,” Maris replied, his tone casual, but his eyes scanning the horizon. “Let’s head for the next one.”

----------------------------------------

An hour later, my breath was coming in ragged gasps, the world spinning slightly as I braced myself on my knees. Sweat slicked my skin, mixing with the dust of the road, and I stared up at the next ruin—a giant well, easily a hundred feet deep, its walls lined with jagged spikes that seemed to glisten menacingly in the dim light.

This looks like a death trap if I’ve ever seen one.

The well yawned before us, a dark, hungry pit that seemed to whisper promises of broken bones and regret. The spikes jutted out like fangs, sharp and unforgiving. Something about the air around it felt wrong—too still, too quiet, as if the world was holding its breath. My stomach twisted.

As we approached, I spotted a glint at the foot of the well. Something metallic, half-buried in the dirt. But before I could get a closer look, Maris had already swooped down, his hand flashing out like a hawk diving for a mouse. Whatever it was—coin, relic, who knows—was gone by the time I reached him.

“Find something?” I asked, though I already knew the answer.

Maris just shrugged, tucking his hand into his pocket with that same smug grin. “Nothing important,” he said, too casually. His eyes flicked up to meet mine for a second, too quick for comfort. I stared at him for a beat longer, my mind racing.

Yeah, sure. Nothing important, my ass.

I let it slide—for now. There were bigger things to worry about, like the spiked pit of doom in front of us. But the familiar itch of distrust settled in my gut. Maris always had a knack for hiding things, and I always had a knack for noticing.

I leaned over the edge of the well, peering down into the abyss. The spikes seemed to grow sharper the longer I stared, as if the well itself were daring me to take the plunge. A soft breeze stirred the air, carrying the faint scent of rust and earth, and for a moment, I imagined the wind whispering my name, calling me down into the darkness.

Nope. Nope, nope, nope.

I straightened up, gripping the mace tighter. It glowed. I laughed.

“So… any bright ideas on how we’re supposed to get through this death trap?”

“I don’t have any rope,” I stated matter-of-factly, eyeing the spiked well that seemed to stretch endlessly below us.

“But you’ve got that awesome shield spell,” Maris replied, as though it was the obvious solution to everything.

This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

“Sure,” I shrugged, “but how are we supposed to get back up?”

He paused, scratching his head, his eyes narrowing in thought. “Rope would definitely help, yeah. But I guess we’ll just have to climb up the hard way. Unless... Can you make the shield smaller?”

I hadn’t even thought of that before. I always just cast the shield the way I knew how. Could I manipulate it?

Guess we’re about to find out.

“I guess we’ll figure it out on the way back,” I said, trying to sound more confident than I felt.

Without further hesitation, I cast the shield spell on myself as I normally did, the familiar hum of magic rippling around me, wrapping me in its protective shell. It tingled against my skin, like static electricity waiting to discharge. Then, I focused on Maris, trying to shape it differently around him, making it tighter, more compact. But as I cast it, there wasn’t any noticeable difference. His shield looked just like mine—maybe a bit shinier, but that was probably just my nerves.

No use worrying about it now. Time to dive in.

I glanced at Maris, who was giving me one of his trademark smirks, clearly amused by the situation. “Well, if we’re doing this…” I muttered to myself.

I took a deep breath and jumped.

The moment my feet left the ground, the rush of air stole my breath. The world around me became a blur of stone and steel as I plummeted down the well. For a split second, all I could hear was the rapid thud of my heart, each beat pounding in my ears like a drum. Then, the impact—hard and sudden.

My shield flared, absorbing the blow as I crashed against the jagged wall, the spikes scraping harmlessly along the barrier. My body jolted sideways, and before I could even process it, I was ricocheting like a loose boulder caught in an avalanche. I slammed into the opposite side of the well, the stone scraping past my cheek, though the shield softened the hit. It was like the well itself was alive, tossing me back and forth as if I were nothing more than a toy in a giant’s hands.

This was a terrible idea.

Each time I hit the wall, the force jarred my bones, but the shield held firm, absorbing the brunt of the damage. I could feel the magic buzzing against my skin, flickering with each collision. My muscles burned from the strain, every nerve screaming as I ricocheted again and again, the walls a chaotic blur of stone and steel.

Finally, with one last bone-rattling crash, I hit the bottom. Dust and debris kicked up around me as I landed, the shield popped with an ear shattering crack! I took a moment to catch my breath, my hands shaking as I pushed myself up.

Above, Maris was already grinning like a maniac, clearly enjoying this more than he should. “Smooth ride?” he called down, his voice echoing off the walls.

“Yeah, like a bed of nails,” I shot back, rolling my shoulders to shake off the ache. The shield had done its job, but my body still felt like it had been through a grinder. Never doing that again.

Maris leapt down after me, shield glowing around him. He hit the wall just like I had, bouncing off with a series of dull thuds. Unlike me, he laughed on the way down, as if the well was a giant amusement ride.

When he finally landed beside me, he stood up and dusted himself off with a flourish. “Well, that was invigorating,” he said, flexing his arms within the shield. “But this thing feels like wearing armor made of soup. You sure it’s working?”

I shot him a look. “You’re still standing, aren’t you?”

“Fair point,” he conceded, still grinning as he patted the side of his shield. “Feels weird though. Maybe next time you can add a little less jello and a little more steel.”

I shook my head, a small smile tugging at my lips despite myself. "I’ll work on that.”

The light from Crystal, along with the faint glow of my shield spells, barely cut through the suffocating darkness, like a matchstick flickering in a void. The silence was oppressive, almost too thick to break, but I pulled a torch out of my inventory, the flame sputtering to life with a hiss. The sudden brightness cast twisted shadows across the slick walls. If Maris found it odd that I had pulled a torch from thin air, he didn’t say a thing. His silence gnawed at me.

The well wasn’t much—a cramped, musty chamber where the air clung to my skin like damp cloth. In the middle, a pool of stagnant water sat, its surface murky, barely kissing the lip of the lake’s edge. It was the ghost of something that once mattered, maybe a lifeline, but now it was as dry as my hope for answers in this forsaken place. Off in the distance, a wooden door beckoned, its rusty handle drowned in green, the algae creeping over the bricks like nature's unspoken reclamation. How long had this place been abandoned? And how had the water drained out, leaving only decay?

I pushed the thought aside, eyes locked on the door, the sensation of every footstep heavier than the last. The closer we got, the more the air tasted of mold, and a strange, metallic bitterness lingered on my tongue.

As soon as I swung open the door, agony exploded from my neck. It was like fire racing through my veins—sudden, sharp, and all-consuming. A scream tried to claw its way out of my throat, but all I could manage was a guttural choke as my knees buckled.