“—Miss Flora!” Flora could hear Anais’ voice as she walked down the corridor, heading back to the gate.

“Nn?” Flora looked up and saw that everyone already made it inside.

Anais and Sabrina ran up to Flora.

“What happened!? Your arm, it’s coming off!” Sabrina hurriedly took out a bandage to secure Flora’s arm which was being held up by only a thin piece of her skin. The cells within her bone and flesh were already dead so her arm was rotting.

“I’m gonna be fine. Catch—we can open that gate with this.” Flora threw it at Anais.

Sabrina made Flora sit down against the wall.

Arthur came over with a gentle smile on his face, “Thank you for what you did. We would’ve been delayed a lot had you not fought for our sake. I can tell that you were in quite the tough fight.”

“Whatever… Destroy that thing, alright? I’m too tired to do it.”

“Eh? Destroy it?” Anais looked at her in confusion.

“See those runes up on that gate? The runes on the shield are identical to it. Just destroy it then the gate will open.”

“Ah, now I see! It’s a Tomni Puzzle,” Anais looked between the shield and the gate blocking their way, “Tomni is runic for sound. When one rune breaks, a unique frequency—too low for the human ear to pick up—is emitted by the dissipating energy. You get a different sound for every rune on the Runic Table. That’s why every rune sounds ‘unique’.”

‘I was right. She knows what it is.’

Arthur spoke again, “Let me help, Sabrina. I can’t heal Miss Flora completely but I can help you reattach her arm.”

“Yes, that would be a great help.” Sabrina took out a few potions and gave it to Flora, “Please drink these.”

Flora did as she said. Her body was relieved of all fatigue and her minor injuries were healed soon after.

Arthur and Sabrina began the healing process.

“Where’s Daraia and the other vanguards? We can’t do much with archers and mages.”

“They’re on their way,” said Arthur, “Their energy signatures are approaching the cathedral. They’ve been on the move for a while. I assume they found some artifacts that might prove useful to them.”

“Good. We can kill that thing behind the gate quicker this way.”

“You know what’s behind the gate? How?” Arthur looked skeptical.

“It’s called a warrior’s sense. You should learn it sometime. It will give you a broader perspective of things.”

“What do you mean?” Arthur took out a notebook and a pen.

‘Are you seriously taking notes at a time like this? Haa…’

“You can identify the form of your adversaries, which can help you determine how big they are or what they look like. Each individual has a different energy signature which you can identify easily. For example, if you and Sabrina were to stand behind a wall or door. One of you lifts their right hand and the other their left hand. I’ll be able to tell who’s doing what even if I can’t see you. Your energy signatures aren’t just differentiated by color but by intensity as well.”

Her eyes can go through any object and move freely. There’s no limit to how far she can see but there’s a limit to how far she can control it. If her eyes travels further than the allowed range then she’ll end up going in random directions, with no way to move on her own.

“Your senses are that specific…? I can’t tell signatures apart besides identifying them by strength. Like I could pinpoint Hofir out back when he was fighting the horde because his power is very unstable. His energy signature is like a stone being thrown in a still body of water.”

Arthur then looked at Flora with a determined expression.

“W-Why are you looking at me like that?” Feeling weirded out, Flora cringed.

“I would like Miss Flora to please teach me how to identify energy signatures!”

“What? No.” Flora denied immediately.

“EH!? Rejected just like that!?”

“I already have a student. I can’t take another one.”

“W-What? Who?”

“That kid who recently became heir to the Berkley House, Luke.”

“Ah…”

“Find someone else to teach you. I’m sure there’s someone capable of what I can do.”

“I don’t think you understand how crazy it is to identify a person by their signatures, Miss Flora.” Sabrina muttered with a sigh, “I suppose common sense doesn’t apply to you.”

“I think there might be people capable of that at the Murim Martial Alliance…” said Arthur with a thoughtful expression, “But getting into their school will be very difficult. They despise knights who use weapons to fight and not their own bodies so there’s that as well…”

“I guess you’ll have to wait until I finish Luke’s training then.” Flora shrugged.

“Hahaha…. Is it fine if I come by to watch from time to time?”

“I don’t really care. Do what you want. I don’t know when the kid will be done with his training. It could take years. If you’re willing to wait that long then maybe I can take you as my student.”

Arthur merely nodded with a downcast glance.

“Done,” said Sabrina as she removed the bandage, “With that you should be able to fight now.”

Flora moved her arm and nodded in satisfaction.

At that moment a boom resounded, followed by the sound of gears moving and chains being pulled.

The runestone slab above the gate broke into pieces and fell on the floor.

A magic circle formula appeared on the gate before the gate opened.

The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

Immediately after a light came through the gate, followed by dozens of singing voice that sounded like a chorus.

“Let’s go.” Arthur unsheathed his sword.

***

What’s that sound?

Ah, singing… It sounds like singing…

A choir, thought the creature.

The choir’s majestic and uplifting melodies seem to evoke the feeling of reverence and celebration to a god, who created them.

Just listening to their tone and the volume and which they sing, you can tell that the song comes from the heart.

Then there’s the Father reading from the scripture. His booming voice matched the choir singing in volume alone but it didn’t sound out of place. Rather, their synchronization were perfectly matched.

-"Dear congregation, today we gather in the light of our faith, seeking guidance and solace. Let us reflect on the teachings of love and compassion, for in these uncertain times, they serve as our steadfast anchors. Remember, it is through our actions that we honor our beliefs, extending kindness to all those in need. Let us strengthen our faith, supporting one another on this journey of spiritual growth. We stand in the presence of the divine, in the embrace of our Creator, whose love knows no bounds.

We cannot see him as he is beyond what our feeble minds can comprehend, but he can see us, and that is what’s most important! As we gather in this sacred space, let us lift our voices in praise and adoration for the blessings bestowed upon us. He is the guiding light that illuminates our paths and the source of wisdom that enlightens our souls.

In the face of adversity, His strength empowers us; in times of despair, His comfort consoles us! Do we not have a wonderful god!? Praise be His glorious name! I will continue to praise this wonderful deity who has gifted us life! His love is a boundless ocean that drenches our spirits with its eternal waves, washing away our doubts and fears. I do not fear that I cannot wake up tomorrow! What I fear is not being able to praise Him anymore! His love carries away the burdens we bear, allowing us to rise anew with hope and courage!

That hope that He will return unto our realm and take us to the kingdom of the gods, that courage that we will take his hand as he guides us! Help us be beacons of light, spreading hope to those in darkness, love to those in despair, and peace to those in turmoil! Glory is their kingdom, a realm fearsome and mighty! We shall continue to sing Your praises!”

The booming voice of the Father resounded. His admiration for this “god” of his was evident in the love and praise in his words.

Silence. A heavy silence dawned when the singing and sermon stopped.

It’s the same sermon, word-for-word and the same songs, every single day. It had been that way for centuries.

It will continue to be this way until the curse that was brought upon this world, is vanquished.

Heavy.

“It” could feel something heavy sitting on top of it as it struggled to drag its feet across the well-maintained marbled floor.

Hurts.

“It” could feel a burning pain coming from its abdomen as if something sharp sliced its gut open but “It” could not touch the wound.

Tired.

“It” could not close its eyes to embrace sweet slumber. “It” continues wandering, as it has for centuries.

“It” was a slave to the curse that gives it life.

“…..”

No words came out of its gaping mouth.

Its vocal cords, despite being three times the size of any normal human, could not produce coherent speech, only gurgles.

The wandering creature could not voice its desires, its dreams, its pain nor suffering. It could only endure, for it has no will to resist.

It wanders the darkness hoping for a light to save it from its torment brought onto it by its own doing, even a speck of light will do.

The brilliance of the marbled floor-nave and its exquisite furniture did not bring a shred of light in that darkness the creature found itself in.

“The Father has delivered a wonderful speech and the angels still have their beautiful voices.”

The same line yet again. The creature hears this same phrase every day whenever the father stops giving his sermon.

The entity that says this phrase and occupies the same seat every day was a monster that had layers of fat and flesh covering its body. Its one bulging eye was the first thing one would notice about this grotesque creature if not for its unattractive figure.

The entity was floating in the air since it had no legs to walk.

Everything that had ever happened or will happen has happened before. The creature had seen it all. Its curse gave it this power.

Has it been hundreds of times, thousands, no, maybe millions already? The creature didn’t know. All it knows is that it is cursed to experience today, yesterday and tomorrow forever.

It will never rest unless someone or something destroys the curse deep within its exposed stomach.

“The intruders are here. How are they not dead yet… What a resilient bunch… I, Lungcan, promise that as your caretaker, I will eliminate them. I will send the Blood Cell to take care of them first. If he and his brethren fails to do so then our ultimate weapon will have to step in. Cursama’s power will take too long to vanquish them all.”

The same dialogue, same gestures, same tone, same eye movement… over and over again.

Was reality itself experiencing—what do they call it again in his world—a bug? Or was this truly his punishment for the deeds he committed when he “came” here?

The Blight King. A bug in the system, an unstoppable force that nothing could overpower, nor control. Its tale was drowned out by the beings known as Star Beast, Demon King and Entity X.

It had all the power that no man or god could possess.

Those Elves were just living peacefully inside their city but he decided to end their lives one day—on a whim. Back then, the creature did not regret slaughtering them all to keep all their treasures for itself.

While its desire to protect others was non-existent, its sick and perverse desire to take from others was still prevalent.

It had free will and the power to do whatever it wanted.

Why didn’t the creature kill all the Outsiders or the Star Beast itself, when it had the power to do so?

Why did it not become a hero and save people when it had the power to do so?

It had free will and the power to do whatever it wanted.

All suffering would’ve ended if it just used its power for good.

Now it watches this world end in a loop, with no way to stop it. It cannot leave this world. It will remain inside this room, looking at its ghastly visage in the mirrored walls until the end of time.

Kill me for good.

Reincarnation and transmigration is fun—until you suffer the consequences of your actions. That’s what this creature came to understand after its life as a “King of Curses”.

It traversed the Nine Realms enjoying its new life as one of the strongest beings alive. The king courted goddesses and mortals, fighting in battles which had their tales lost throughout time and the king killed countless divine beasts for sport, effectively erasing most of them from the mortal realm entirely, even the all-powerful Great Moon Wolf that could devour planets.

None who faced the king could withstand his mighty power. The king grew bored of such a life and instead devoted itself to finding Star Grade artifacts, while careful not to involve itself with the protagonist.

Its reign as the King of Curses ended on one of its treasure hunts…

Now it will remain stuck in this loop until a Light can sever the curse completely.

The creature looked up at the glorious painting of a knight standing above the corpses of his enemies. There were dark clouds above and bloody rain falling down on the corpses.

Thousands of roots grew out of the sky, consuming the souls of the corpses on the earth.

Ah, the prophecy of the “Swallowing Tree”, the tree that will take all life from the Nine Realms.

The Blight King wanted to fulfil that prophecy but knew that he would be stopped by the gods, thus he could only depict the Nine Realms’ own “Ragnarok” in his fantasies.

The creature’s eyes were drawn to the knight pointing its sword toward the sky.

The Blight King, once a being of unfathomable power, now an empty vessel, wailed. Its cries could be heard reverberating throughout the cathedral, carrying with it an overwhelming pressure that brought all its creations to their knees out of fear.

“!!!!!”

The screams continued but no tear was shed. The Vessel had no eyeballs to speak of so it could not produce tears. In fact, it has no organs at all. It’s just an empty vessel that’s still alive somehow. The only difference between It and a vase meant for flowers is that It can still move, despite being empty inside.

The creature gripped the fiery red spear in its hand. A spear that looked like the fiery pits of hell itself. It changed its grip on the spear and tried to cut off its neck.

If it cannot escape this church using its legs then why not kill itself? Surely, it should be free to do that?

That’s not the case at all.

Three pairs of hands prevented it from doing the deed. Those hands belonged to the three beings protruding out of its back—the Elf Father and two Elf nuns.

-“The Lord is watching! Do not throw away your life that he righteously gave you!”

Righteously? How could placing such a curse on your body—a mockery to your creator—be righteous?

The creature didn’t know which god created it but surely the god must be smiling in ridicule while looking at it suffer the consequences of its own actions.

-“We do not wish to see you punished for destroying the temple that is your body that the Lord gave you!”

Punishment?

What punishment would be worse than this life?

The creature’s arms fell limply to the side, a weak moan escaping its gaping mouth, with its head lowered.

There is no escape for this accursed undead.

You would be a fool to believe otherwise.