The midday sun hung lazily in the sky, casting a warm, golden glow over the village. Magnus sat on a rough wooden bench, turning the small, circular object over in his fingers once again. The metallic surface shimmered faintly, as it always did under sunlight, and the strange engravings glowed with an almost imperceptible hum. He couldn't shake the feeling that it was watching him. It had been a week since they’d discovered the relic in the depths of that old tomb, but no matter how much he studied it, the artifact’s purpose eluded him. And yet… it pulled at him. He had even dreamed of it.
The village was a typical one, not too big or too small. Its cobblestone streets were flanked by simple homes with thatched roofs, and market stalls dotted the village square, selling everything from fresh produce to handmade trinkets. The scent of baked bread mixed with the earthy smell of the nearby fields, and the distant sound of villagers chatting and going about their day filled the air, but Magnus barely noticed. His attention kept drifting back to the object, as if it held secrets just waiting to be uncovered.
In front of Magnus, the caravan they had arrived in sat idly, its wooden wheels creaking slightly as it settled into the dirt road. The horses tethered nearby occasionally snorted and shook their heads, clearly eager to be on the move again. The rest of the group loitered around the caravan, chatting amongst themselves or checking their gear.
Semus approached, carrying a leather pouch. “Hey, here’s water,” he said, tossing the pouch to Magnus.
Magnus caught it, uncapping the pouch and taking a long drink. The cool water was refreshing, but it did little to calm the growing impatience gnawing at him. "What’s taking Floyd and Garrick so long to find a contract?" Magnus grumbled as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "It's been almost 30 minutes."
Semus chuckled lightly, taking a seat beside him. "Calm down, Magnus. They’re probably just sorting through all the jobs. Could be a lot of people in the guild today."
Magnus frowned, glancing toward the direction of the guild hall, a small two-story building at the far end of the square. The place didn’t look all that busy from the outside. "I doubt it’s that crowded," he muttered, glancing back at Semus. "They better not be getting distracted."
Magnus took another swig from the water pouch, his gaze narrowing as he stared at the guild hall in the distance. “What do you think of those two, anyway?” he asked, his tone thoughtful but laced with frustration. “Personally, I don’t like them very much. They’re too reckless, always cutting corners. Feels like they don’t put any real effort into their jobs. I’ve lost count of how many times people in the clan got hurt because of their careless decisions.”
He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, a troubled expression crossing his face. “I’ve tried to treat everyone like family, you know? But I can’t keep watching them get hurt because those two are rushing through jobs or not thinking things through.”
Semus sat down beside him, taking a moment before responding. “I get it, Magnus. They’re not always in the best shape when it comes to planning things out, but you have to remember, we’ve all been through a lot together. Garrick and Floyd have their flaws, sure, but they’ve also been by our side through some pretty tough spots. Let’s have a little more faith in them.”
Magnus let out a heavy sigh. "The last raid was way too close. Who would've thought goblins would settle near a basilisk's territory? We should have seen the signs sooner."
His face tightening at the memory. "I thought we were dead the second I saw that petrified deer, its eyes still wide. We got lucky—damn lucky. If we'd gone another few more steps into that thicket, we'd all be statues now."
Semus nodded. “Yeah, that was a close call. But we made it out, didn’t we? Everyone’s still here, bruised but alive.” He paused, glancing over at Magnus. “Look, I get why you’re worried, but maybe this job will go smoother. Who knows, maybe they’ve learned something since the last time.”
Floyd and Garrick emerged from the guild building, looking rather pleased with themselves. Garrick waved a rolled-up piece of parchment in the air, a smug grin on his face. “We’ve got a contract!” he announced as he swaggered over to where Magnus and Semus sat.
Magnus took the paper from Garrick’s hand, unrolling it and scanning the details. “Spider?” Magnus muttered, reading over the contract. “Is this all they had?”
Floyd shook his head. “Nothing else worth taking. That’s the best one available.”
Magnus let out a sigh, folding the paper back up. “Seven gold and fifty silvers for a spider clearing contract. Not the worst we’ve done, but it’s not going to keep us going for long.”
Semus mounted his horse, casting a glance at Magnus. “At least it’s an easy one. Could be worse.”
Magnus shrugged, his mind clearly not at ease. He handed the contract back to Garrick, and soon enough, the rest of the group started preparing for the journey ahead. The mercenaries gathered their gear, mounted their horses, and with the contract secured, they rode out of the village.
The road ahead stretched through the dense, sun-dappled forest, tall trees arching overhead, their branches casting long shadows on the dirt path. The occasional rustle of leaves or distant bird call broke the silence of the late afternoon, the mercenary group’s horses trotting steadily as they made their way deeper into the wilderness.
The forest was thick, with vines twisting around the trunks of old oaks, their leaves forming a canopy above, filtering the sunlight into patches of gold on the forest floor. Moss clung to the stones by the roadside, and the earthy scent of damp soil filled the air as they rode further from the village, the quiet growing more profound the deeper they ventured.
After several hours of travel, they came to a halt at the edge of a clearing. Ahead of them, the ground opened up into a dark hole—a jagged entrance to the nest of the giant spiders. The mouth of the cave was large and ominous, with webbing visible just inside, clinging to the rocky walls like a warning sign.
“This is it,” Magnus said, pulling the reins to stop his horse. He glanced at Semus, who had already dismounted, and then at the rest of the crew as they began to gather around the entrance. The nest was eerily quiet, the only sound being the occasional hiss of the wind through the trees.
Magnus took charge as always, organizing the team into their usual formation. “Floyd, you’re upfront with me. We’ll take the brunt,” he ordered, his voice steady and sure as he inspected his gear. Floyd gave a nod, adjusting the grip on his shield. Magnus then turned to Garrick, who stood slightly behind them, ready to dish out damage where it was needed. “Garrick, keep your eyes sharp and stay right behind us. When we push forward, you follow up with the heavy strikes.”
Garrick gave a lazy grin, twirling a dagger between his fingers before nodding. “Got it, boss. Let’s squash some bugs.”
The rest of the team followed closely behind Garrick, their eyes scanning the tunnel as they moved. Semus and the flanking team prepared the torches, the flickering flames casting eerie shadows on the walls as they descended into the nest. The smell of damp earth and old webs filled their nostrils, but no one complained. They were used to this.
As they ventured into the tunnel, the webbing became thicker, clinging to the walls and floor in tangled masses. Magnus hacked at the webs with his axe, clearing a path as they moved deeper into the nest. Occasionally, the soft rustling of tiny legs could be heard skittering along the tunnel walls, but the team remained calm and focused. Every now and then, small eggs would burst open, unleashing a wave of tiny spiders that swarmed the ground. With quick motions, the men burned the webbing and the small creatures, ensuring they didn’t get overwhelmed by the hatchlings.
The deeper they went, the slower their progress became. The number of spiders grew, some crawling from hidden nooks in the tunnel walls, dropping from above onto their shields and armor. Floyd grunted as he bashed a particularly large one off his shoulder. “This better pay off,” he muttered as he crushed another beneath his boot.
“Stay focused,” Magnus called back, his voice echoing off the tight, web-lined walls. “We’re almost there.”
The tunnel opened into a larger chamber, the webbing so thick it looked like a curtain of silk draped over the walls. And in the center of the chamber, there it was—the massive, hulking form of a giant spider, its legs twitching as it sensed the intruders. Its body was covered in thick, spiny hair, its eyes gleaming like black orbs in the dim light. The creature let out a low, guttural hiss, its mandibles clicking menacingly.
“Positions!” Magnus shouted, his voice calm but firm. The team fanned out, just as they had practiced countless times before. Magnus and Floyd raised their shields and moved in first, drawing the spider’s attention. Garrick circled behind them, ready to strike once the opening presented itself.
The spider lunged forward, its massive legs slamming down onto Magnus’ shield, the force nearly pushing him back. He held firm, gritting his teeth as he absorbed the impact. “Now, Garrick!” Magnus shouted.
Garrick darted in from the side, his sword slicing through one of the spider’s legs. The creature screeched in pain, lashing out with its remaining limbs, but Floyd was there to block the next attack. “Keep it busy!” Floyd shouted as he deflected a leg that came crashing down near him.
Semus and the flankers moved in, their torches burning through the webs around the chamber. The light flickered off the creature’s black eyes, disorienting it for a moment. Garrick took the opportunity to slash at another leg, the blade sinking deep into the spider’s flesh. The beast recoiled, skittering back into the shadows.
“Push it back! Don’t let it recover!” Magnus barked, stepping forward and slamming his shield into the spider’s body. The team closed in, surrounding the creature as it lashed out wildly. With a coordinated effort, they struck its weak points, cutting through its defenses.
Finally, with a furious swing, Magnus drove his axe into the spider’s abdomen. The creature let out one last, ear-piercing shriek before collapsing to the ground, its legs curling inward as it died.
The team stood there for a moment, catching their breath as the massive corpse lay before them. Magnus wiped the sweat from his brow, glancing around the chamber. “Good work, everyone,” he said, his voice steady. “Let’s finish up and get out of here before more of them show up.”
After the giant spider lay defeated, the team wasted no time scavenging the remains of the nest. Torches flickered as the mercenaries carefully cut through the webbing, extracting valuable silk strands and harvesting venom sacs from the dead spiders. Magnus oversaw the process, wiping the remnants of the fight from his blade as he kept an eye on his crew.
“Get what you can,” he called out. “We’ll be able to sell the silk and poison for a decent price back in town.”
As the men worked, one of them shouted from the far side of the chamber. “Hey! Over here! We found something!”
Magnus, Semus, and Floyd hurried over, curious about the discovery. There, nestled against the far wall of the cave, was something that made all of them pause. It was a structure—a door—that seemed completely out of place in the web-ridden, natural cavern. The door was made of old, weathered stone, covered in strange, intricate carvings. Despite the age and grime, it looked like no part of the cave. Its edges were clean and precise, a sharp contrast to the uneven rock around it.
Floyd scratched his head. “This certainly doesn't look like it is a part of the cave”
Semus knelt down beside it, running his fingers over the stonework. “This doesn’t belong here… It looks ancient, like Floyd said, it’s not part of the cave. Someone—something—built this.”
Magnus approached slowly, his brow furrowed in thought. “Why would anyone build something like this in a cave?”
As they inspected the door, Semus noticed something near its center—a small, round socket carved into the stone. “Look at this,” he pointed. “It’s a socket of some kind… almost like it’s waiting for something to fit in here.”
Floyd and Magnus leaned in closer. It was clearly designed to hold something specific. Semus’ eyes lit up as a realization dawned on him. “Wait… remember that artifact we found a week ago? The strange piece we couldn’t identify? It’s the right shape. It might fit.”
Magnus reached into his pouch and pulled out the artifact—a small, circular object made of some unknown metal, engraved with faint markings. He handed it to Semus, who carefully placed it into the socket.
For a brief moment, nothing happened. Then, with a sudden grinding noise, the artifact clicked into place, and the door began to stir.
The stonework around the doorframe started shifting, the carvings lighting up with a faint glow. The ancient mechanisms inside the door whirred to life, gears that hadn’t moved in centuries grinding and rotating. Slowly, the door started to part, stone slabs retracting into the walls with a deep rumble. Dust fell from the ceiling as the ancient doorway revealed its secrets, opening to reveal a dark passageway beyond.
Magnus, Semus, and Floyd watched in awe as the door fully opened, the passage before them shrouded in mystery. The sound of the ancient machinery echoed through the cave, the air thick with the weight of discovery.
“Well,” Magnus muttered, “I think we’ve found something a lot bigger than some spiders, let's be careful”
As soon as the ancient door fully opened with a final, deep rumble, Garrick didn’t wait for an invitation. He darted inside without hesitation, his curiosity and greed getting the better of him. Floyd, never one to be left behind, followed close at his heels.
“Hey! Be careful, you idiots!” Magnus shouted after them, his voice echoing off the stone walls. His heart pounded as he watched the two disappear into the darkness. “We don’t know what’s in there!”
Without waiting for a response, Magnus gestured for the rest of the group to follow. Semus and the others, still in shock from the discovery, exchanged uncertain glances before cautiously stepping through the doorway. They had no idea what awaited them on the other side.
As the group entered the passage, their torchlight revealed an awe-inspiring sight that made them stop in their tracks. What lay before them was a grand, ancient palace carved entirely from stone, hidden deep beneath the earth. Time had worn the palace down, the once-smooth stone now rough and weathered, covered in a thick layer of dust and cobwebs. But even through the grime of centuries, the grandeur of the structure was undeniable.
Massive stone pillars stretched toward the vaulted ceiling, their intricate carvings almost obscured by dust and decay. Each pillar was adorned with faded reliefs depicting long-forgotten battles and rituals, figures locked in combat or frozen in moments of reverence. The architecture was unlike anything they had seen before—majestic and ominous, as if it had been constructed by a civilization lost to time.
The walls of the palace were lined with long-forgotten banners, their vibrant colors now muted and torn, hanging limply in the stagnant air. Stone arches loomed overhead, framing what must have been a vast central hall. Even though the palace was long abandoned, the sense of power and grandeur it once held lingered, a heavy presence in the air.
Dust coated every surface, creating a thick layer underfoot that muffled their footsteps as they walked further in. Webs hung from every corner, their silken threads glinting in the flickering torchlight. It was clear that no living soul had set foot in this place for centuries, maybe even longer.
This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
Despite the palace’s decay, it was immense in scale. The grand hall stretched far into the darkness, disappearing into shadow. Above them, a cracked stone dome rose high, large enough to house an entire army. Broken statues, once grand depictions of warriors and kings, lined the walls, their features eroded by time but still imposing.
“This… this is incredible,” Semus whispered, his voice filled with awe. “How is this even possible?”
Magnus stared up at the dome in disbelief. “This place... it’s been buried for who knows how long.” He couldn’t shake the feeling that they had stumbled onto something far more dangerous than they’d bargained for.
Garrick and Floyd stood at the center of the grand hall, gazing around at the ancient palace, clearly unfazed by the potential dangers. Garrick’s eyes gleamed with excitement as he spun around, taking in the grandeur of the place.
As they ventured deeper into the grand palace, the air grew colder, the silence more oppressive. Each step they took seemed to echo loudly in the vast emptiness, their torchlight flickering off the ancient stone walls. The grandeur of the palace was undeniable, but so was the sense of danger that lingered beneath its beauty. The tension in the group was palpable, and every creak or shift of the stones made them flinch, nerves on edge.
Suddenly, Floyd’s foot pressed down on a tile that sank slightly with a faint click. Before anyone could react, arrows shot out from hidden slots in the walls, whistling across the room with deadly speed. Magnus, ever quick on his feet, raised his iron shield just in time. The arrows struck with a loud thunk, some of them shattering on impact due to their age, while others embedded themselves in the wooden part of his shield.
"Watch it!" Magnus hissed, waving his hand to signal the group to halt. The rest of the team froze in place, eyes wide with alarm. He glanced down at the slightly sunken tile beneath Floyd's foot. "This place is riddled with traps."
Semus crouched beside the triggered tile, inspecting the mechanism. "It’s old, but still functional. Everyone be careful where you step."
They moved forward cautiously, stepping lightly and keeping a close eye on the ground for any further signs of traps. The palace seemed to be a maze of hidden dangers, each corridor and room presenting a new challenge.
In one corridor, they came across what looked like an ordinary hallway, but Magnus’ sharp eyes caught the telltale signs of a loose ceiling panel. As they cautiously moved forward, the panel suddenly gave way, and large chunks of stone came crashing down. The group barely managed to dodge to the sides, narrowly avoiding being crushed by the falling debris. Dust and rubble filled the air, choking their vision and making it difficult to breathe.
“Keep moving!” Magnus urged, pulling one of the men to his feet. "This place is falling apart.”
Further on, they came across a large chamber where the floor was riddled with crumbling tiles. Some of the tiles had already fallen through, revealing a deep pit beneath. As Magnus gingerly tested the ground, he could hear the faint sound of trickling water. Peering down into the pit, he saw long, sharp spikes jutting out of the ground. Water flowed through the gaps between the spikes, gathering in shallow pools below. It looked like an old defense mechanism, a trap designed to ensure that anyone who fell would be impaled by the spikes and washed away by the water.
“We’ll have to jump across,” Magnus muttered, eyeing the gaps in the floor. The distance wasn’t impossible, but with the uneven footing and the crumbling tiles, it was risky.
One by one, they leaped over the gaps, carefully balancing themselves on the sturdier tiles. Each jump sent small pieces of stone crumbling away, and the faint splash of water echoed below as the debris fell into the pit. Magnus went last, his heavier armor making the leap more difficult, but he managed to land with a grunt of effort.
The deeper they went, the more treacherous the palace became. In one room, they encountered a thin layer of water covering the floor, fed by small streams trickling from cracks in the walls. It seemed innocent enough until one of the men slipped on the slick stone and narrowly avoided falling into a submerged pit that had been hidden beneath the water’s surface.
“Watch your step,” Magnus warned, his voice low. He used his shield to test the ground ahead, prodding the waterlogged floor before moving forward. The water was only ankle-deep, but it masked several deadly drops and jagged stones beneath the surface.
Another corridor presented a new challenge. The floor was lined with intricately carved tiles, but many of them were cracked and uneven. As they stepped forward, a few of the tiles sank into the ground, triggering jets of water to shoot out from the walls with surprising force. The water wasn’t strong enough to be lethal, but it was enough to knock someone off balance and send them careening into the nearby pits or traps.
Magnus gritted his teeth, pushing forward with determination. "This isn't just a palace—it's a fortress," he said, his voice strained as he avoided another pressure plate. "These aren’t just random traps. They’re designed to protect something... or someone."
They carefully maneuvered through a room where stone blocks hung from the ceiling, suspended by chains. The blocks were precariously balanced, and any sudden movement could send them swinging down with deadly force. Magnus led the way, moving with precision and caution. The chains creaked ominously as they passed, but they managed to avoid triggering any further disasters.
As they finally approached the end of the corridor, a grand set of doors loomed ahead—massive and intricately carved, much like the entrance to the palace. But before they could reach it, the ground beneath them trembled, and a section of the floor began to shift. A hidden panel slid away, revealing a fast-flowing river of water beneath their feet. The water was dark and turbulent, fed by an underground stream that flowed through the palace.
Magnus stepped forward, eyeing the water with caution. "We need to be careful," he warned. "This whole place is designed to keep people out—or keep something in."
They carefully crossed a narrow stone bridge, watching as the water raged below. The roar of the water filled the chamber, drowning out any other sound. Magnus kept his eyes focused on the grand doors ahead, wondering what awaited them beyond.
The heavy doors creaked as they swung open, revealing the vast expanse of the throne room. Dusty light filtered in from the cracks in the stone walls, illuminating piles of forgotten riches. Gold coins, gemstones, and priceless artifacts were heaped together in grand disarray. Though the room had been abandoned for centuries, its treasures still gleamed faintly in the dim torchlight, as though waiting to be discovered.
The carpet that stretched across the room was barely recognizable, the vibrant red it once held now faded and threadbare. A thick layer of dust clung to its surface, leading the way to the grand throne itself. At the far end of the room, sitting motionless on the throne, was a skeletal figure—a king long dead, still clutching the remnants of his royal reign.
Magnus and Semus approached cautiously, their eyes drawn to the skeletal form that sat slumped on the throne. The remains were draped in what must have once been regal garments, though now they were little more than tattered cloth hanging off brittle bones. The sight of it sent a chill through the room, and Magnus couldn’t shake the eerie feeling that clung to the air.
The rest of the mercenaries, however, paid no mind to the ominous skeleton. Their eyes were only on the treasure. The team rushed forward, greed evident in their eyes as they began sifting through the piles of gold and jewels.
“We’ve hit the motherlode!” Garrick shouted with glee, greedily scooping up handfuls of gold coins and tossing them into a bag. His excitement was infectious, and the rest of the team soon followed, grabbing whatever they could get their hands on.
Floyd whistled as he held up a jeweled necklace. “This’ll fetch a fortune back in the capital.”
As Magnus and Semus continued inspecting the skeleton on the throne, Semus' eyes narrowed as he noticed something peculiar. A faint glow began to emanate from the bracelet, pendant, and ring still clinging to the skeletal remains. It wasn’t the usual gleam of old gold or tarnished silver—this was something else entirely.
"Magnus," Semus said in a hushed voice, leaning in closer, "these aren’t just regular trinkets. Look at them… they’re glowing."
Magnus glanced at the items again and realized what Semus was saying. The faint light wasn’t the product of torch light reflecting off metal. These items were artifacts—powerful ones, no doubt. The king hadn't simply sat on his throne for all eternity with relics of his former glory. He’d been guarding his own relic.
As Magnus and Semus approached the throne, they carefully inspected the skeleton seated upon it. Its once-grand form now reduced to bone, with tattered remnants of royal attire clinging to the lifeless frame. Among the decay, however, there were three items that immediately stood out: a loose ring hanging precariously from a bony finger, a pendant draped around its neck, and a bracelet wrapped around its wrist. Faint, almost imperceptible glows pulsed from each of the items, marking them as artifacts.
Magnus and Semus exchanged a knowing glance.
“These are artifacts,” Semus murmured, his voice filled with a mix of awe and caution. "This king must have been powerful, and he took these treasures to his grave."
Magnus nodded in agreement, “We should be careful—these things don’t seem like they should be tampered with.”
Before they could make any further observations, Garrick rushed forward, greed flashing in his eyes. Without a moment of hesitation, he yanked the ring off the skeleton’s finger. “Look at this beauty!” he exclaimed, admiring the artifact. As soon as the ring slid onto his finger, a shimmering sword materialized in his hand, formed from pure energy. Garrick’s grin widened.
“Garrick, wait!” Magnus shouted, but it was too late.
Floyd, not wanting to be left behind, quickly reached for the pendant. The moment it was around his neck, a spectral armor materialized around his body, shimmering with the same strange light. The two of them were consumed by their newfound power, their excitement blinding them to the consequences.
“Idiots!” Magnus muttered under his breath.
In their eagerness, Floyd's reckless tug on the pendant had caused the skeleton to fall forward, crumbling off the throne. As its bones clattered onto the stone floor, the throne itself shifted slightly, and the entire room began to rumble.
The palace trembled violently as ancient mechanisms deep within the structure groaned to life. Water started pouring through cracks in the walls, and the grand door behind them began to close, grinding slowly but steadily.
Before anyone could react further, a flood of water began rushing in from cracks in the walls, quickly filling the room. The air filled with the skittering, horrifying sound of giant spiders—grotesque beasts with glistening legs and bloated bodies—pouring into the chamber, drawn by the disturbance. Their eyes gleamed in the dim light as they flooded in from the broken walls, scaling the piles of treasure and weaving quickly toward the mercenaries.
The once grand throne room had become a death trap, and panic spread through the group like wildfire. A few of the mercenaries tried to fend off the spiders, swinging their weapons with desperate energy. Blades slashed through the air, cutting down one or two, but the numbers quickly added up, and more spiders scuttled into the room. Their hairy legs swarmed over the fallen bodies of their kin, and soon, the mercenaries found themselves overwhelmed.
“What have you done?!” Magnus shouted, his voice echoing over the sound of the shifting stone and rushing water.
Garrick and Floyd, without any concern for the others, bolted for the door, abandoning the rest of the mercenaries in their rush to escape. Magnus cursed under his breath as he watched them flee, but his attention snapped back to the crumbling room.
Semus, acting quickly, grabbed the bracelet from the fallen skeleton. "We don’t have a choice now!" he yelled, fastening it onto his own wrist. Instantly, a shimmering shield formed around his arm, just like Garrick's sword and Floyd’s armor.
“Semus, what are you doing?” Magnus shouted over the chaos as the water level rose higher, and spiders began flooding back into the room.
As Semus approached the throne, he noticed the intricate gears and levers beneath the dais. “Magnus, look at this. The entire room is wired to the throne,” he said, pointing to the mechanism half-buried in the stone. “It’s some kind of control system. The moment the skeleton was disturbed, it triggered everything—water, traps, the door. It’s all connected.”
Magnus stared at the ancient levers. “Then we just need to reverse it.”
Semus shook his head, already seeing the problem. “No time. The water’s rising too fast, and it’s jammed. The only way to stop it is if someone holds the mechanism in place manually.”
Magnus’s face paled. “No.”
Semus looked at him, calm despite the chaos. “If I don’t do this, we all drown, Magnus. You know that.”
Magnus’s eyes widened in realization. “No! There has to be another way!”
“There isn’t,” Semus said, his voice calm despite the surrounding chaos. “Go on, friend.”
Before Magnus could protest, Semus shoved the bracelet into his hand and turned back toward the throne. He took his seat on the ancient chair, and immediately, the door behind them stopped closing, the water stopped flooding in. But the spiders, now enraged by the disturbance of their lair, were swarming into the room.
Magnus, desperate to help, tried to pull Semus from the throne, but his friend was resolute. "Go!" Semus barked, "Get out of here! I’ll hold them off!"
The mercenaries grabbed Magnus, struggling to pull him away. He fought against them, his heart heavy with the weight of leaving Semus behind. But they had no choice—the room was crawling with monsters, and the door wouldn’t stay open forever.
“Semus!” Magnus shouted one last time, but Semus only gave him a sad, determined smile as the mercenaries dragged Magnus out of the collapsing palace, sealing his fate.
The last thing Magnus saw as they were pulled from the room was Semus, sitting on the throne, surrounded by spiders and monsters, holding off the inevitable collapse as the palace crumbled around him.
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The damp night air clung to the stone walls of the port city's narrow street, illuminated only by the flickering flames around them. The heavy sound of Magnus’ boots echoed as he stepped forward, his eyes locked on Garrick.
Cedric stood a few paces away, barely catching his breath after escaping the flood. His head throbbed slightly, a dull ache pulsing behind his eyes, but he brushed it off as the result of the fight and being soaked to the bone. Faylinn was perched on his shoulder, alert, her bright eyes darting between the two men.
Garrick stood at the center of the street, weapon in hand, a wicked grin spreading across his bloodied face. His weapon shifted in his grip, the artifact ring on his finger glowing faintly as it morphed from a blade to a deadly whip, its edge shimmering with dark energy.
"You've come a long way, Magnus" Garrick sneered, his voice dripping with mockery. "But you're still the same fool who lost everything. Still clinging to old grudges, still trying to be a hero."
Magnus tightened his grip on his axe, the weight of his armor settling heavily on his broad shoulders. His shield shimmered with the power of the bracelet on his wrist, and the pendant around his neck pulsed with a low, steady glow, wrapping him in a protective aura. The tension in the air crackled as their relics responded to each other, as if the ancient artifacts remembered a battle that had taken place long ago.
"You abandoned us," Magnus growled, his voice low and dangerous. "You left Samus to die. You ran away when we needed you most."
Garrick’s eyes glinted in the firelight, his smile never faltering. "Samus was dead the moment he entered that cave, and you know it. I made the smart choice, Magnus. You just couldn’t see it then—and you can’t see it now."
Without warning, Garrick lashed out with his whip, the blade-like tendrils cutting through the air with a sharp crack. Magnus brought his shield up just in time, the whip recoiling off the ethereal barrier that flared to life. A pulse of energy exploded from the impact, sending sparks flying and shaking the ground beneath them.
The artifacts screamed in protest, their magic colliding with violent force. Magnus felt the resistance in his arm as the bracelet and pendant worked in tandem, deflecting Garrick’s attack, but also pushing back as if they wanted nothing to do with the opposing relic.
Garrick grinned, his whip morphing into a jagged sword in the blink of an eye. "It seems our little trinkets don’t like each other," he said with a smirk, charging forward.
Their weapons clashed with a deafening crash, the magic within the relics flaring up in a blaze of light. Garrick’s sword rippled with dark energy, while Magnus’ axe glowed with a pale blue light, infused with the strength of his shield. The air around them vibrated, and for a moment, it felt as though time itself had stopped, the artifacts refusing to yield to one another.
Magnus grunted under the pressure, his muscles straining as he pushed Garrick back. He could feel the magic coursing through his veins, the relics feeding on his will to fight. But with every blow, the tension between their artifacts grew stronger, the air thick with the energy of their ancient, unseen conflict.
"They know," Magnus said, his voice strained but steady. "These artifacts were never meant to be used like this. They’re resisting."
Garrick snarled, his eyes flashing with rage. "I don’t care about the past! All I care about is finishing you!" With a furious cry, he swung his sword again, the blade aimed directly at Magnus’ chest.
But the pendant around Magnus’ neck flared with power, the armor he wore hardening just before the strike hit. The blade glanced off harmlessly, but the force of the blow sent Magnus stumbling back. Garrick pressed his advantage, lunging forward with wild, reckless strikes, each one more ferocious than the last.
Magnus parried and blocked, his shield absorbing the relentless attacks. The magic of the artifacts continued to clash with each strike, sending ripples of power through the air. Sparks flew as their weapons met, and the ground beneath their feet cracked under the strain.
But Magnus wasn’t about to let Garrick overwhelm him. With a roar of defiance, he slammed his shield into Garrick, knocking him off balance. In one swift motion, he brought his axe down in a devastating arc, aiming for Garrick’s exposed side.
At the last second, Garrick’s sword morphed again, turning into a whip that coiled around Magnus’ axe. The weapon jerked to the side, the two men locked in a deadly struggle as the artifacts screeched in protest, their energy clashing violently between them.
"You still don’t get it, do you, Magnus?" Garrick hissed through clenched teeth. "I don’t need to win this fight. I just need to outlast you. These relics will tear each other apart, and we’ll be left with nothing."
Magnus growled, yanking his axe free from the whip’s grasp. "Maybe you don’t care, but I do." He swung his shield with all his might, the energy within it flaring to life as it collided with Garrick’s chest. The force of the blow sent Garrick crashing into the cobblestones, the air driven from his lungs.
Garrick gasped for breath, but even as he struggled to rise, his ring flared with energy, pulling his weapon back to his hand. His eyes burned with fury as he forced himself to his feet, blood trickling down his face.
"You won’t win," Garrick growled, his voice shaking with rage. "You can’t."
Magnus, breathing heavily but unyielding, stepped forward, his axe raised high. "I already have."
With a roar, he brought the axe down in a powerful swing, but just before it connected, the bracelet on Magnus’ wrist flared to life, its protective energy reacting to the presence of Garrick’s ring. For a split second, the air around them froze, the relics locking in a final, desperate struggle.
And then, with a deafening crack, the magic exploded.
Both men were thrown back by the force of the blast, their weapons clattering to the ground. Magnus rose to his feet, breathing heavily, his axe still in hand.
Garrick lay on the ground, his weapon shattered beside him, the energy of the ring flickering weakly. Bloodied and broken, he struggled to move, but his body refused to obey.
Magnus stood over him, his expression hard and unforgiving. "It’s over, Garrick. You’ve lost."
Before Garrick could respond, a rush of wind swept through the street, and without warning, a massive shadow crashed into Magnus. The force of the impact sent Magnus staggering backward, his shield barely raised in time to absorb the blow. The creature, dark and bat-like, shrieked as it collided with him, its wings flapping wildly as it tried to overpower him.
Magnus gritted his teeth, bracing against the full weight of the creature. His shield flared with energy, holding the beast at bay, but the sheer strength of the impact made his arms tremble.
The creature snarled, its claws raking across Magnus’ shield, but it couldn't break through. With a grunt, Magnus shoved it back, the beast stumbling a few paces before settling on the ground in front of him, growling low in its throat.
From the shadows behind the creature, a figure emerged—Caelumbras. The dark sorcerer stepped into the dim light, his cold eyes scanning the scene, and a sigh of disappointment escaped his lips as he looked down at Garrick’s broken form.
"I expected better from you, Garrick," Caelumbras said with a tone of boredom, his gaze drifting lazily over the man lying on the ground. "To think you once had potential."
Magnus' eyes narrowed, his focus shifting to Caelumbras. "What do you want?" he growled, still holding his shield up as the creature snarled at him.
But before Caelumbras could answer, Tristan’s voice rang out from across the street. "Caelumbras!" Flames ignited in Tristan's hands, his fury evident as he hurled a ball of fire straight at the sorcerer.
Caelumbras barely moved. Instead, with a calm motion, he stepped to the side, revealing what he held in his arm. The fireball evaporated mid-air as Tristan froze in place, his eyes widening in horror.
Cradled in Caelumbras' arm was Liora, sound asleep, wrapped in a dark cloak. The little girl’s chest rose and fell softly as she remained oblivious to the chaos around her.
"You wouldn’t hurt a child, would you, Your Highness?" Caelumbras asked, his voice smooth and mocking as he shifted Liora slightly, holding her higher as if to show her off. "Especially one as special as this."
Tristan’s flames flickered out instantly, his heart pounding in his chest. His voice trembled as he took a step forward, his eyes locked on Liora. "Let her go, Caelumbras," he demanded, though the desperation in his voice was unmistakable.
Magnus lowered his shield slightly, sensing the danger. "What do you mean by ‘special’?" he asked, his voice tense.
Caelumbras smiled, glancing down at Liora with an almost admiring expression. "I can feel it," he said softly. "There’s something about her, something powerful—much like what I felt from the high priest Morgan" His gaze shifted back to Tristan, amusement dancing in his eyes. "She’ll be a good component in the revival of Morgath."
Tristan’s fists clenched, his entire body shaking with barely contained rage. "Let her go!" His words were a growl, but the fear in his eyes betrayed him.
Caelumbras tilted his head, his gaze filled with amusement. "Oh, Tristan, you should know by now that I’m not one for negotiations. I already have what I want." He shifted Liora in his arms again, cradling her as though she were a prized possession. "And unless you want her to suffer, you’ll stay exactly where you are."
Magnus took a step forward, his shield still raised as he glanced at Tristan. "We can't let him have her."
"But we can't risk her life," Tristan whispered back, the conflict tearing at him. His mind raced, desperately searching for a solution, but every path led to the same, agonizing conclusion—Liora’s life was in Caelumbras’ hands.
"You see," Caelumbras continued, his voice silky smooth, "there’s nothing you can do. You’ve lost, Your highness."