CHAPTER 14

THE TEMPLE

Mark and Koman finally arrived at the ancient temple of Gaweroa after days of traveling. The old stone building stood in ruins, a mere echo of its former grandeur. Where once vibrant flowers bloomed in the courtyard, now only wild grasses grew. Disheartened, Mark and Koman dismounted and stepped into the overgrown courtyard. The monk shook his head, mourning the temple's lost beauty. "This place was once a marvel," he sighed. "I glimpsed its former glory in my visions."

"Theodore mentioned your visions warned of danger here," Mark recalled. "But I see nothing, no one. It's unsettlingly quiet..."

"It's the way of the world," Koman replied solemnly. "Once bustling with life, now reclaimed by nature's grasp, left to decay in silence."

"Don't jump to conclusions," a ghostly voice echoed through the temple ruins. Mark scanned the surroundings, but no one was in sight. Suddenly, a chilling laughter filled the air.

"Show yourself!" Mark demanded.

A translucent figure materialized before them, an elderly man in flowing robes, his face marked by wrinkles and scars. "I am Jacobus, the former bishop of this temple," the ghost declared.

Mark gripped his spirit sword, its green glow illuminating the scene. But instead of fear, the ghost laughed mockingly. "You think you can banish me?" he sneered.

Koman stepped forward, interposing himself between Mark and the apparition. "There's no need for violence," he urged. "I am Koman, a monk of the Holy Church. We are of the same faith. Let us find common ground."

The ghost's laughter subsided, replaced by a grim resolve. "But there is," he responded. "Do you know what happened here? Two hundred years ago, while Archon Anthemios' forces were busy dealing with Duke Harrier's revolt, heathen bandits ran amok in the countryside. They pillaged this temple, leaving no one alive. Our cries to the High God went unanswered. We were forsaken. That's when I renounced our faith and vowed vengeance against the false God and all who worship Him."

"Tough luck," Mark said, "because I'm about to send you packing to the underworld, vile spirit!"

The ghost's laughter echoed, sending shivers down Mark's spine.

Suddenly, the ground shook violently. From the crumbling temple emerged a massive gray monstrous creature with five heads, three arms – two on the left and one on the right – and five legs, each muscle bulging with strength. It wielded three stone columns as weapons.

"Fuck!" Mark exclaimed, bracing himself for the impending battle.

"That's my loyal servant," the ghost declared. "He's here to purge this temple of followers of the false god." With a sinister command, the ghost ordered the monster, "Attack!"

The monster slammed one of the columns onto the ground, making the earth tremble. Mark narrowly dodged the attack, which could have easily been fatal. With all three arms, the monster struck again, pounding the ground with the columns. Mark lunged forward, narrowly avoiding the columns and feeling the rush of wind against his face. He plunged his sword deep into one of the monster's five legs. The creature howled in agony, thrashing its legs and causing the ground to quake. It kicked Mark, sending him tumbling and losing grip of his sword.

If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

As the monster struck again with its three arms and the columns crashed down, Mark barely escaped and retrieved his sword. Swiftly, he darted between the creature's legs and emerged on the other side. Before the monster could react, Mark slashed at its legs with all his might. The beast cried out in pain. As it turned around and brought down its columns, Mark stepped back just in time to narrowly avoid them.

The beast slammed its columns onto the ground once more. As one of the columns hit the earth, Mark leaped onto it. Balancing carefully, he sprinted along the column and scrambled up one of the monster's three arms. Reaching its shoulder, he propelled himself into the air and landed on one of its five heads, driving his blade deep into its skull. The beast let out a deafening roar and stomped the ground in fury. "Damn it," Mark cursed. "Looks like I'll have to pierce all its heads."

As the beast stamped the ground, Mark struggled to keep his balance, nearly tumbling to the earth. Desperately, he thrust his sword into the creature's flesh, using it as a makeshift anchor. Springing back onto the first head, he then jumped onto the second head and swiftly stabbed at the skull before leaping to the third head. With the beast shaking its heads furiously, Mark fought to stay upright. Managing to maintain his balance, he buried his blade into the skull of the third head. "Three down, two more to go," he muttered.

Attempting to reach the fourth head, Mark found himself thwarted by the monster's violent stomping and shaking. With a loud thud, he tumbled to the ground, rolling across the courtyard grass. Thankfully, he hadn't suffered any broken bones, but his back was throbbing with pain, and he couldn't help but let out a sharp cry.

The beast looked rattled by the wounds Mark had given it. As it brought the columns down again, Mark dodged just in time and drove his blade into one of its three arms. With determination, he sliced downward through the tough flesh of the creature, severing the giant limb. It crashed to the ground with a loud thud, still clutching the stone column tightly.

The beast angrily slammed the stone columns onto the ground with even more force and speed, forcing Mark to dart back and forth to avoid the attacks. His back still ached, and exhaustion weighed heavily on him. Despite panting and feeling his muscles straining, he pressed on, driven by sheer instinct to survive. Observing the monster's attack pattern, Mark dashed forward, dodging the columns, and plunged his blade deep into one of its five legs. With a circular motion, he sliced through the flesh, severing the massive limb. Already weakened by Mark's previous strikes, the beast lost its balance and crashed to the ground, causing the earth to tremble as if in the grip of a mighty earthquake.

Seizing the opportunity, Mark leaped onto the fallen creature's chest before it could rise again, repeatedly driving his blade deep into its body. The monster howled in agony until finally succumbing to its wounds. Stepping back from the massive corpse, Mark took a moment to catch his breath. "That was one tough fight."

"Impossible!" cried the ghost of Jacobus. "You've slain my servant."

"And now I'm sending you back to the underworld where you belong," Mark declared as he thrust his spirit sword into the apparition. The ghost screamed and vanished.

"I told you, you've been touched by the divine," Koman said. "The High God knew only you could defeat this monster. He sent you to my path to help me finish my pilgrimage."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Go do your praying or whatever you want to do."

Ignoring Mark's dismissal, Koman walked past the massive corpse of the beast and into the ruins of the temple, heading for the remains of the stone altar. Finding it, he fell to his knees and began chanting words of prayer. For nearly half an hour, he chanted, ending his prayer with the words, "Glory to our maker, the High God!" He then turned to Mark. "We can start our journey back," he said.

"Back to Diplovasia, right? If you want me to escort you to Archon Zva’s realm, that will cost extra."

"Diplovasia is fine," Koman smiled. "Our paths diverge anyway. I'll find another mercenary to take me from Diplovasia to my homeland."

Mark and Koman hopped onto their horses and started their journey home. After all, that's the way of the wanderer - always on the go.