It was an agonizing decision, one that weighed heavily on the little girl’s fragile heart.
On one hand, she yearned for freedom, even if it meant sacrificing her own brother. On the other, the thought of taking his life filled her with unbearable sorrow. She wanted nothing more than for both of them to escape this nightmare—they had been imprisoned here for months, enduring torment beyond imagination.
The Satanists had done unspeakable things to them, especially to her. The horrors she had faced had scarred her deeply, leaving her soul tainted and her innocence shattered.
A desperate thought crossed her mind—maybe she should end her own life. If she died, perhaps her brother would be spared. But doubt lingered. Satan had given her the knife with a purpose; he wanted her to live. She feared that even if she took her own life, it wouldn’t save her brother, rendering her sacrifice meaningless.
She stared at the knife, its sharp edge glinting in the dim light. Her grip tightened as the weight of her decision settled within her. There was no easy way out, but she knew what she had to do.
"I’m sorry, brother... but I want to live," the little girl whispered.
She was about to commit an unspeakable act—to kill her beloved brother with her own small hands. It was a burden too heavy for her heart to bear. At just ten years old, she understood the gravity of what she was about to do. It was wrong, selfish, and yet she felt she had no choice.
"Sister... please don’t... please, put down the knife," her brother pleaded, his voice trembling as he slowly backed away, tears streaming down his face. He didn’t want to die; he wanted to live.
"Forgive me..." the girl said, her voice filled with sorrow.
"No! No! No! I don’t want to die!" the boy cried out, his voice rising in desperation as he backed into the corner of the cage.
With a heavy heart, the little girl ignored her brother’s pleas. She plunged the knife into him, watching as he choked on his own blood. Pulling the knife out, she sliced his neck, watching as the blood spilled from the wound. Her brother’s body went limp, his life slipping away.
The girl collapsed to her knees, tears streaming down her face. She threw the knife aside and cradled her brother’s lifeless body in her arms.
"I’m sorry... I’m sorry... I’m sorry," she repeated, her voice choked with sobs. She was truly heartbroken over what she had done.
"He... he... he... Marvelous!" Satan let out a hideous laugh, his eyes gleaming with twisted satisfaction as he watched the scene unfold. He had made someone kill their own beloved, reveling in the power of exploiting the desperate. This was the essence of true manipulation, and he could feel it enhancing his reputation—an act befitting the Devil himself, leaving no doubt in the minds of others who he truly was.
"Indeed, you do have a talent for this sort of thing," his consciousness chimed in with approval. "If you manage to pull something like this off again, perhaps I’ll consider making your life a little less miserable."
The other consciousness in his head was delighted by this act—cruel, manipulative, corrupting—everything that defined a demon. Exploiting others, pushing them to sin, this was the kind of behavior that could elevate him.
"You know, you’re a truly vile man," Tamamo-no-Mae said, her voice dripping with disdain. "You may have a handsome face, but inside, you’re utterly repulsive. You really do act like a demon—or whatever you claim to be!" She pointed at the cage, her anger barely contained. "At least Malina and I would’ve given these children a simple death, just a quick heart attack. But you... you’re fucking twisted! You’re one of the worst men I’ve ever met!"
Malina stood in shock, her expression hidden behind her veil, but her surprise was palpable. Tamamo-no-Mae rarely cursed; she detested using such language, considering it a sign of uncivilized and rowdy behavior. Normally, she would have chosen from a vast vocabulary to express her disdain, but this situation had pushed her to her limit.
"Calm down, Tamamo-no-Mae," Malina said, trying to soothe her friend. "They’re just children; humans can always make more. We can still give the remaining ones a quick death, sparing them from further cruelty."
"How noble of you," Satan replied with a sneer. "But don’t attempt to play the moral guardian here, not in front of me." He approached the cage, his grip tearing the bars away effortlessly. As he stepped inside, he walked towards the little girl, placing a hand on her shoulder. His voice softened, taking on a fatherly tone, "Come, child, you have succeeded. You are now free from the chains that bound you."
The girl stood up, her eyes filled with sorrow as she gazed at Satan. "But where will I go? I just remembered... my mother and father are dead. They were killed by the Satanists..."
"Well, that's a problem we'll address later," Satan replied, his tone dismissive. "For now, I have two questions for you."
"What are they?" the girl asked, her voice trembling.
"First, what is your name?" Satan inquired.
"My name is Madona Roosevelt," she introduced herself, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Madona," Satan continued, "have you seen anything or anyone strange around here? We found Satanists slaughtered and disemboweled in the second room."
"I-I don't know," Madona stammered, her fear evident. "I only heard the Satanists screaming that a Saint had somehow come to kill them all... So they all gathered in the summoning hall—or so they said..."
Satan's eyes widened at the mention of a Saint. The word alone sent a shiver down his spine. Saints were among the most formidable classes in *Dark Descent.* Though not necessarily powerful in raw might, they possessed an arsenal of buffs capable of turning the tide of any battle.
A thought began to race through his mind. Was this Saint the same as the one in *Dark Descent*? Or was it something else entirely, merely sharing the same name? If this Saint was indeed a player, then he had no choice but to kill everyone nearby. He couldn't afford to leave anyone alive who might discover his secret.
"A Saint... This is bad," Tamamo-no-Mae said, her voice tinged with concern. "It seems the Vatican has become involved in this matter as well. Though, we should have anticipated this."
Saints were humans blessed with the power of the Biblical God, capable of hosting an Archangel within their bodies. As a result, most demons avoided fighting them unless necessary. Even the weakest Saint could take on ten super-elite monsters and emerge victorious. Tamamo-no-Mae herself had witnessed the power of a Saint just a few months ago, barely escaping with her life by sheer luck.
"But that doesn't explain why the Saint didn’t free or heal the children here," Malina interjected, her voice laced with suspicion and confusion. "Saints have the power to nullify curses, given that they carry the will of the heavens and can summon an angel. There's no way the Saint wouldn't notice or know about the children."
Saints were known as the beacons of humanity, protectors of the innocent who stood against any threat to mankind. Their primary goal, along with the church, was to save any human they encountered, unless that human was truly vile, beyond redemption, or a Satanist.
"We don’t have much time. Let’s go," Satan ordered, his urgency clear. If they waited any longer, there was a chance that the potential player might escape, and that was something he could not allow.
He considered teleporting directly to the main summoning room, where the leader of the Satanists might still be alive by some miracle—or more likely, already dead. But if the Saint turned out to be a player or something equally dangerous, teleporting would be akin to suicide.
The Saints he knew possessed a passive ability that nullified an opponent’s teleportation skills or spells within a 20-meter radius for a full minute. While one minute might not seem like much, in a battle of life and death, every second was crucial.
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Satan then grabbed Madona, lifting her effortlessly and holding her tightly with one arm. “You are staying close to me until we are done here.”
“So, what’s your plan for the girl?” His consciousness inquired. From their shared memories, it was clear that Satan had never been one to show true compassion. He was a self-absorbed, delusional man, prone to fleeting moments of remorse quickly dismissed by justifications.
“I plan to use her as cannon fodder,” Satan replied casually. “She might prove useful as bait when the time comes, or perhaps I’ll make her a servant—or even target practice. The possibilities are endless."
“Let’s hope you stick to that,” his consciousness advised. “You’re known for being unpredictable and having sudden changes of plans. I don’t want you to show any compassion toward the girl. Demons like us find compassion repulsive; we’d be sickened by it.”
Malina and Tamamo-no-Mae approached the cage, raising their hands. A soft white light began to emanate from them. What they were about to do wouldn’t be painful, but it was a merciful act. They would cast a spell to stop the hearts of the barely alive children, sparing them further suffering.
It was indeed a cruel solution, but there was little else they could do.
“I have to admit,” Malina said as the white light filled the room, “you truly live up to the name of Satan, don’t you?”
----
"This must be the final door, right?" Satan said, gently setting Madona down as he turned his gaze toward the door.
"Yes, but there's another long hallway beyond it," Malina replied.
Satan looked at Malina with a contemplative expression. "You know," he began, "when Tamamo-no-Mae told me about your ability, I was genuinely surprised. You have no idea how many people I know who would kill for something like that."
In Dark Descent, no such ability existed. If it had, it would have completely altered the game’s dynamics. An ability to see through all kinds of defenses without alerting the caster? It was far more potent than any item like 'Truth and Seek' or the thief class ability 'All Sense.'
As Satan reached out to push the door, he suddenly stopped as it emitted a green light.
"What's happening...?" Malina asked, her eyes fixed on the door.
The door began to transform.
What was once a simple black surface started to shimmer and shift, taking on a shiny silver hue. The metal seemed to ripple like liquid before solidifying into a sleek, polished finish. At the center, a fierce face emerged, its features sharp and regal, with a wide, open mouth revealing rows of jagged teeth. The eyes, two glowing emeralds, gleaming with an intense, almost predatory light.
"Wait a minute, how can this door be here?!" Satan exclaimed, his composure faltering.
"You recognize it?" Tamamo-no-Mae inquired.
"Yes, but I thought all doors like this were destroyed. How is it possible for one to exist here...?" Satan responded, a note of unease in his voice.
"So what's so special about this door that has even you, Satan, losing your composure?" Malina asked, skeptical.
"This... is a riddle door," Satan said, his voice heavy with dread.
"A riddle door... that's it?" Malina scoffed. "So what, it's going to attack us with riddles? Don't tell me the so-called Satan is afraid of answering riddles?"
"It's not the riddles themselves that worry me," Satan said with a sigh, "but what they summon."
Both Tamamo-no-Mae and Malina exchanged uneasy glances, wondering what could possibly spawn from the door that even Satan feared.
"Let me clarify," Satan continued. "This door will present you with three riddles. For every riddle you answer incorrectly, it will summon waves of white Demi-Gorghes—creatures nearly as powerful as seventy percent of the strongest member of our group."
"That's impossible," Malina protested, her voice laced with disbelief. The very idea seemed absurd, almost laughable.
Tamamo-no-Mae shared her disbelief, her expression mirroring Malina's.
"It makes me wonder how the Satanists managed to get their hands on such a thing when it was supposed to be destroyed for good," Satan mused.
In the early days of Dark Descent, these doors were common in dungeons, making the game incredibly challenging. After defeating every mob on a floor, players had to answer riddles to pass to the next level. But the riddles were so impossibly difficult that even simple-minded players like Satan found them nearly unsolvable. After three months of overwhelming complaints, the developers had finally removed them, fearing a massive loss of players.
This world, it seemed, held far more mysteries than Satan had ever imagined.
"What if we just blow the door apart?" Malina suggested.
"Don’t even think about it," Satan warned. "Any attack on the door will be reflected back at you with ten times the damage."
"So, we have to answer the riddles if we want to get through. That's our only option, right?" Tamamo-no-Mae asked.
"Yes," Satan confirmed. "Though you only need to answer one riddle correctly for the door to open."
"And what if we answer all three wrong?" Malina inquired.
"Then an endless horde of white Demi-Gorghes will descend upon us," Satan said, his tone shifting to one of command. "I want each of you to answer a riddle and make sure you get it right."
"Even me?" Madona, who had remained silent until now, asked hesitantly.
"Yes, even you. Now, everyone, step back a little," Satan instructed, giving three light knocks on the door.
The door’s eyes gleamed as it spoke, "Welcome, all. My name is Erobos, and here is your first riddle. Are you ready?"
"Bring it," Satan replied, his voice steady and resolute.
“I have both a start and an end, facilitating journeys from heights to depths. Each step upon my surface propels you higher or lowers you down, yet my silent presence remains unseen and unspoken. What am I?” the door asked.
Everyone stood in tense silence, trying to solve the riddle.
What has both a start and an end, facilitates journeys from heights to depths, and stepping on its surface propels one higher or lower, yet remains unseen and unspoken?
“Remember, you have a time limit of one minute,” the door warned.
“A time limit?!” Malina exclaimed, glaring at Satan. “You didn’t mention there was a time limit.”
“It slipped my mind,” Satan said, his frustration evident. “Now, can you figure out the answer?”
“Hey, other consciousness of mine, do you know the answer?” Satan asked mentally.
“No, I’m as bad at riddles as you are,” his consciousness replied.
Satan cursed silently. As he and the others struggled to find an answer, their minds raced through possible solutions, but Satan’s thoughts only brought him a headache.
“Time’s up,” the door announced. “The answer to the riddle is ‘a staircase.’ Time for a penalty!”
“Dammit!” Satan shouted, his voice echoing in the hallway.
Suddenly, dozens of roars filled the air. The group turned to see a horde of Demi-Gorghes charging toward them.
Malina and Tamamo-no-Mae quickly raised their defenses, while Madona cowered behind Satan.
Satan raised his palm, and crimson fire began to gather and swirl into a sphere.
“Tenth tier magic: Crimson Fire Barrage!”
He hurled the fireball at the approaching Demi-Gorghes. The fireball split into six blazing fragments as it flew, each fragment striking and incinerating the monsters instantly, burning them from existence.
More Demi-Gorghes surged forward, but Satan stopped them mid-charge with his telekinesis, then forcefully pushed them back. His eyes glowed darkly as he unleashed a barrage of spiral beams, each one disintegrating the beasts with precise, devastating force.
“You three focus on solving the next riddle while I handle these beasts!” Satan commanded. He raised his hand, and dark energy began to swirl and gather in his palm, condensing into a large, razor-sharp saucer pulsing with dark matter. With a swift motion, he hurled the saucer toward the oncoming Demi-Gorghes. As it sped through the air, the saucer split into several smaller discs. When these dark matter discs made contact with the creatures, they sliced through them with precision, causing their bodies to disintegrate instantly as the dark matter interacted with their physical form, tearing apart their molecular structure.
“Hey door, speak the second riddle,” Satan shouted at the door.
“Beware of the spells you use; your current MP has been reduced to 223. Try spells with higher power but low area of effect, and that can hit multiple targets,” his consciousness said.
“I know; don’t teach me that!” Satan snapped.
The door’s eyes gleamed as it spoke the second riddle: “Among the finite, I dwell in stillness and dark. My existence fades when touched by light. What am I?”
“Damn beast!” Satan cursed, glaring at the creatures. He focused and summoned a sword made of pure darkness. Dark energy swirled in his hand, forming a black blade that absorbed light around it. With a firm grip, he charged at the Demi-Gorgheses, slicing through them one by one. The sword cut cleanly, but the creatures began to regenerate almost instantly.
Not giving them a chance to recover, Satan quickly raised his palm and unleashed a fierce jet of flames, reaching temperatures of over 5,500 degrees Celsius. The intense heat scorched and incinerated the cut pieces, reducing them to ash before the beasts could fully regenerate.
“MP reduced to 206...”
“Answer the riddle!” Satan demanded, fending off another wave of monsters with a barrage of spiral beams from his eyes.
“MP reduced to 106... This is bad; you’re below 50 percent of your MP. If only that damned door wasn’t here, you could use a tier 12 or 13 spell to wipe them all out,” his consciousness commented with a tone of pity. “You can still use them if you manage to reduce their area of effect, but using even one would take practice, and you haven’t mastered that yet.”
While Satan fought off the hordes of Demi-Gorghes, the trio strained to solve the riddle.
"'Among the finite, I dwell in stillness and dark. My existence fades when touched by light. What am I?'" Malina repeated, her mind racing.
"What could it be? Something finite, that stays still in the dark, and fades when light touches it... does something like that even exist?" Tamamo-no-Mae pondered aloud.
"I-I’m sorry, but could the answer be a s-s-star?" Madona stammered, her voice trembling.
"A star?!" Both Tamamo-no-Mae and Malina echoed in surprise.
"Correct, the answer is a star," the door responded, its eyes gleaming before vanishing entirely.
"You’ve pleased me, Madona. For this, I will reward you handsomely," Satan said, briefly turning to her. He then turned his back on the trio and faced the remaining Demi-Gorghes. With deep focus, nine dark lances began to form behind him, each made of pure darkness, swirling and pulsating with energy. The tips of the lances glowed ominously, and the air around them seemed to grow colder as they hovered, ready to strike.
With a sharp motion of his hand, Satan sent the lances hurtling toward the Demi-Gorghes. As each lance struck, a powerful effect activated at the tip, creating a small but intense black hole. The gravity from these black holes was immense, sucking the Demi-Gorghes inside. The creatures were helpless against the pull, drawn into the blackness where they vanished completely, as if swallowed by the void.
With that, the wave of the Demi-Gorghes came to an end.
Satan exhaled deeply, turning back to the trio. "Now, let’s move before the door quickly materializes again."
---
The summoning room was a horrifying scene, drenched in blood and scattered with the remains of the Satanists. Severed limbs and torn bodies were strewn across the floor, some charred beyond recognition, while others lay in pieces. There was another thing on the ground—a statue with the features of a goat: a head with twisted horns, a muscular torso, and goat-like legs. Its wings and tail were cracked and scattered across the floor.
"Now, where is our Saint?" Satan wondered aloud, slightly surprised. He could sense the presence of another entity in the room, but all he saw were the blood-soaked remains and the broken statue of the biblical Satan. He stepped closer to the statue and studied it.
'Soon, there will be statues of mine as well...' Satan muttered before addressing his other self. "Hey, explain this. I can definitely sense someone here, but I can't see them."
"I believe it’s due to dimensional phasing," his consciousness replied. "And don’t ask what that is—it’s complicated, and we don’t have time. Just stay on guard and drink a mana potion."
"She should be here. I can feel her presence," Tamamo-no-Mae said, her tension growing as she scanned the room.
"But where is the Saint?" Malina asked, unease in her voice.
"I believe the Saint is hiding using dimensional phasing," Satan responded.
"Dimensional phasing? What’s that?" Tamamo-no-Mae asked, confused.
Malina looked just as puzzled.
"I’ll explain later," Satan said, his tone serious. "Just stay on guard. A surprise attack could happen at any moment."
"You're using my lines! I should file a copyright strike!" his consciousness retorted.
Satan was about to reply when suddenly, a voice echoed through the room.
"I didn’t expect a monster to know about dimensional phasing..."
A swirl of yellow, glowing lights filled the space, radiating a divine brightness that momentarily blinded them.
As their vision cleared, they saw a woman—a strikingly beautiful figure with long, flowing blonde hair that shimmered like gold, and eyes as blue as the sky. Her skin glowed with an ethereal light. She wore white nun's clothing with golden linings, and a silver rosary hung around her neck.
She hovered above the blood-stained floor, which seemed to cleanse itself as she descended
"Hello, everyone," she said, her voice calm and confident. "My name is Elizabeth Moriarty, and as you all probably know, I am a Saint of the Vatican."
As she finished speaking, a halo appeared above her head, and golden wings unfolded from her back.