“Not again!” said one of the cloaked figures in an annoyed voice. “We’ve been living in these bodies for years, resisting the urge to go mad, yet they give in the moment we switch with them. It just shows how useless these people are. I don’t even want to dirty my hands with their blood.”

With swift movements of his wand, he managed to confuse the enraged human, causing him to fall to the ground. The sentinels who were standing at the entrance of the circular room rushed forward and thrust their swords into the man’s back, piercing his heart and ending his misery.

“Nooo… Th—is is n—ot what we we—re pro—mi—sed” were the man’s last words. He died with regret, the light fading from his eyes.

“Dispose of those insignificant humans; their blood will sully this place!” commanded another cloaked figure. Just as the words left their lips, a new figure entered the room, draped in a cloak as black as the deepest abyss, a stark contrast to the others’ gray attire.

“I see you’ve successfully completed the ritual once more,” the new arrival stated, his voice carrying an air of authority that made everyone in the room bow and reply in unison, “Yes, my lord!” The sentinels, who had been overseeing the ritual, were now trembling in fear, sinking to their knees.

The lord in the black cloak nodded in approval, his gaze sweeping over his subordinates. “Mhm, indeed,” he acknowledged, “but I find myself slightly disappointed. There has been a spy lurking amidst us, observing our every move. It is disheartening that none of you noticed, despite being far superior to those mere humans.”

The room remained in tense silence as the cloaked figures exchanged uneasy glances beneath their hoods. The atmosphere was thick with anticipation, awaiting their lord’s next decree.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

As the figure in the black cloak continued, his voice held an eerie sense of authority that sent shivers down the spines of those present. “This is the second time such an intrusion has occurred. We must improve our security. Our sanctuary’s secrets must not be exposed to the likes of outsiders.”

The travelers, who had remained hidden and unnoticed throughout the ritual, felt a cold sweat forming on his brow. He had witnessed a bizarre and dark ceremony, learned that the city’s memory loss was intentional, and now, he was faced with these enigmatic figures who wielded power beyond his comprehension.

The cloaked lord turned his attention to the sentinels who had escorted the traveler into the sanctuary. “You two, explain how this traveler managed to infiltrate our ranks.”

The sentinels, still trembling in the presence of their lord, hastily explained, “My lord, we did not see anyone else present besides the drugged man and the cloaked figures. We swear by our duty that there was no intruder.”

The lord’s black eyes bore into them. “Incompetence is not tolerated here. You shall pay for your negligence.” With a wave of his hand, the sentinels were enveloped in darkness, and they let out agonized screams as their forms twisted and contorted. In moments, their bodies liquefied, transforming into a grotesque mixture of blood and flesh, a horrifying testament to the consequences of failure in this mysterious and ruthless world.

The traveler’s heart pounded as he realized that escape was no longer an option. He was now entangled in a web of secrecy, power, and ancient rituals that went beyond his wildest imagination. His journey had taken an unexpected and perilous turn, and he tried to rack his brain for a solution. Escape? Seeing their power, it was impossible. Lie to them? Tell them he got lost? He would die for sure. The guards were killed in an instant for a mistake, and he had witnessed everything. They would never let him get out of here alive.

Before he could finish his frantic thoughts, the apparent leader turned his piercing gaze toward the spot where he was hiding.

“As for the intruder,” the leader commanded, “someone capture him. Don’t kill him; I need him alive.”

One of the figures burst into action, wielding his wand with precision. With a wave of the wand, he rendered the traveler immobile. The traveler’s body refused to respond to his commands, and he found himself floating helplessly out of his hiding spot. Meanwhile, another figure moved swiftly, closing the distance between them in a blur. With a swift, well-placed strike, he knocked the traveler out cold.

As darkness closed in around him, the traveler’s consciousness faded away. Was this the end of his journey?