Novels2Search

Chapter Nineteen: A Devilish Game

Chapter Nineteen

Ambrose had no idea how long he hung from that branch. In his mind it could have been forty years to mere seconds. Memories played through his mind like old records on repeat. Some were his, other weren't.

He saw how Arthur's curse affected Mordred, but Arthur had not accounted for one thing. How willing Mordred was to embrace it.

Ambrose couldn't say how it was done. Skills were something He activated with a thought and the System did the rest. This was something else. Something either beyond the System, or something withinit Ambrose merely did not understand.

Whatever it was, Ambrose could only watch the memory as it unfolded. Watch as Mordred used his mind still alive within his dead, statue flesh, to seize the power of the curse upon him and shape it to his will.

He was still cursed, but Mordred was able to weaponize it, like a plague that he spread from himself. It flowed into Vivienne, influencing her to Mordred's whims. She tried to fight it, but Ambrose realized something then as she did.

Vivienne was the spirit of the island. She was the island at the same time she wasn't. Mordred knew this too, and he used it against her. He infected the island, tugging at the veins of light that had pulsed into the ground from Arthur, and spreading it, making its toxicness affect everything, not merely him.

Vivienne broke down, but she fought it She split herself, one half of her infected by Mordred, and the other free from his influence. That split was still apart of the whole, however, and the part of her with Mordred's influence sought power.

In the form of mana. It opened rifts into other realms, other universes, bringing lifeforms there and sending out the Root Knights to collect them, imprisoning them in crystals and draining their mana to keep Mordred's strength up.

It was an insidious, horrible thing, using living creatures like batteries. Mordred could never get enough, with the curse constantly draining his strength, or took more and more to maintain himself.

Neither could he be stopped.

Vivienne lacked a Knight.

Even as the pain of his spirit was woven anew, Ambrose got the answer in the form of memories. A man in robes seemingly woven from storm clouds and starlight stood before Arthur. He was binding him to the tree, the tree of Avalon.

It was a process that looked a lot less painful than what Ambrose was currently experiencing, hanging from the tree. Then Ambrose understood.

He's a better man than I am. That was why Arthur wasn't experiencing the pain. He was good.

His armor isn't tarnished. Ambrose thought with a mental smile. He knew then that the Knight was the guardian of the island, Avalon, its protector, its warden.

Ambrose’s soul was on fire because it was the only way to give him access to the island. He was being given the keys, keys so complicated, so real that it required him to be remade in order for them to fit.

It was a test, too. A test of will, of whether or not he could bear the weight of his past misdeeds.

I will bear it. I did it, I know I'm not perfect. But I take responsibility for it. I own who I am.

Ambrose cast the face of his wife against the tide of it all.

I am a devoted husband.

The tide grew larger, but the image of his wife's face gave Ambrose the strength he needed to withstand the pain. He cast forward his wife's pregnant belly.

This novel's true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.

I am a father to be.

The pain began to recede, as if it had a mind of its own and it was uncertain. Ambrose cast forward the memory of his dead wife bleeding out on his bed.

I am a failed guardian.

Ambrose cast the image of his resolve, his defiance against Eric at the tide. He sent forth his plans, his wrath made manifest. The tide could not break him.

It broke around him and his soul surged forth anew, and with it came a notification from the System.

[[Reforged-Legendary]: Your soul and spirit have been reforged in the fires of pain and bound to the spirit of Avalon. You receive +50 to all stats and use your mana more efficiently.]

Ambrose felt himself come back, opening his eyes he felt weightless as he dangled like an ornament from the rope. The rope lowered him to the ground with the same invisible force that had yanked him up and loosened around his neck before setting him down. Ambrose flung the noose away from him like it was hot iron and gripped at his throat.

The tightness is gone. He moved his hand around the skin, feeling its smooth healthiness. He reached up to his left eye to confirm the dawning horror.

“The bonding always has a price to pay.”

Ambrose whirled around, his right hand across his face, feeling the black burnt husk that was now his left eye. Vivienne stood before him, her eyes searching, a sad smile on her lips. Ambrose knew so much now, knew what she was. More importantly, he knew how to lift the curse. He put his hand down, pushing the loss of his eye out of his mind.

“Take me to Mordred, if I defeat him, the Curse is lifted, you go back to normal and we can activate the Relocation Protocol.”

Vivienne coked her head, her lips pursing, before she shook her head from side to side.

“No, dear Knight. I will not do that.”

Ambrose crossed his arms, narrowing his eyes at the spirit known as the Lady of the Lake.

“Why not?”

Vivienne shrugged,

“You are not strong enough. Mordred would destroy you.”

Ambrose wracked his memory before he came up with a solution,

“The grimoire, I want it.”

Vivienne raised an eyebrow.

“You know what you must do to collect it.”

Ambrose produced his axe,

“Yeah, well, I don’t have much of a choice if I want to grow more powerful, do I?”

Vivienne inclined her head and the lake swirled and parted, revealing a familiar pathway that led deep below.

“Good luck, dear Knight.”

The warm presence in Ambro’s cloak sent him feelings of reassurance and Ambrose responded in kind.

“Very well then, time to face a devil.”

_________

The pathway did not lead to the heart of Avalon, the cavern he had seen in while hanging from the tree. This pathway led ever downward until he came to an arcade room. Ambrose knew the island now, knew it as surely as he knew his own body. He had an awareness of it, an awareness that told him everything about the island at a given moment.

That awareness told him of a unique prisoner, a devil not unlike Misaq, that resided beneath the island. No one knew why he was there or who had put him there, but Vivienne, and thus Ambrose, did know what he guarded. The devil guarded the grimoire, a unique item that would grant whomever bound to it a unique power. No one knew what that power was because no one had retrieved the grimoire. The devil had killed all of them.

Ambrose stepped into a gym. The devil had put his own pocket dimension into the cavern, the path leading you through to the portal entrance to it. The devil controlled the dimension and could shift it to whatever he liked.

A boy who looked no older than ten lazily made shot after shot with a basketball. When Ambrose entered, he turned. The little boy was olive skinned with curly blonde hair falling just past his ears. He wore a red jersey with a number two in white lettering emblazoned on the front and back. He had on red and black sneakers and wore black shorts.

He looked like an unassuming young boy. Except for the eyes. Unlike Misaq, this devil's eyes were blacker than the void, with two red pupils the precise shade of fresh blood. The devil grinned and without looking, made another shot with a basketball. His childlike voice echoed around the gym,

“Hello new friend! My name is Todd, what’s your name?”

Ambrose crossed his arms,

“You’re choosing to look like a child, really?”

Todd, if that was its name, frowned, red eyes glittering,

“Hey! That’s not nice! I asked your name! Mean people don’t get to be my friend, you know.”

Ambrose sighed, shaking his head,

“Fine, I’m Ambrose. You know what I’m here for.”

Todd smiled,

“You’re here for my special book! Only friends who beat me in a game get to have my special book!”

Ambrose fought the urge to sigh again,

“What game do you want to play, Todd?”

Todd pumped the air, whooping.

“Yay! We get to play! You have to play me in two games, friendo! Win both and I’ll give you my special book!”

Ambrose turned his lips downward,

“Okay, what games do you want to play then?”

Todd ticked off each finger as he spoke,

“Rock, paper, scissors is the first one! Tic Tac To is the second!”

Ambrose narrowed his eyes,

“What happens if I lose?”

Todd grinned and said in a voice that was not child like at all,

“I get to eat you.”