My body hung suspended and immobile as the Deathweaver dragged me along the cavern tunnel. The walls were adorned with shimmering crystals, emitting a dim but beautiful light that danced in the shadows. The creature’s abrupt jolts caused my head to bump against the rocks now and then, intensifying the pain and confusion clouding my mind.

The tunnel finally opened into a vast cavernous space, and the sight that greeted me left me breathless—not in the way a scenic landscape would, but in horror. An underground lake stretched before me, fed by a waterfall cascading from the cavern’s heights. The water glowed with an eerie, almost supernatural hue, and in the lake’s center stood an ancient altar. It looked like a Japanese Shinto temple, yet with a dark, gothic twist, as if despair itself were woven into its architecture.

My thoughts were a chaotic swirl. How had I ended up like this? I felt pathetic, weak, as though everything I’d trained for meant nothing. My body trembled with rage and helplessness. I couldn’t fight my enemies; I couldn’t even protect myself. I was trapped, at the mercy of a madman and his monster.

The Deathweaver reached the lake’s edge and hurled me onto the ground with a brutality that sent waves of pain throughout my body. I couldn’t hold back any longer; the venom, fear, and despair churned within me, and I vomited all that was in my stomach. While trying to catch my breath, I began to study my surroundings, hoping to understand where I was.

That’s when I noticed something. The waterfall… this place felt familiar. Memories of training with my mother surfaced—a time when I learned to control my spells in a secret spot known only to our family, one that resembled this cavern. But then my attention was drawn to something else. In the center of the altar, shrouded in an aura of mystery and power, was a small urn, wrapped in black chains pulsing with dark energy.

A shiver ran down my spine as I stared at that urn. What could it possibly contain to warrant such careful sealing? As I leaned forward to observe it more closely, Vesper’s voice rang out, echoing in the cavern and pulling me from my thoughts.

image [https://i.postimg.cc/qBPk6THJ/Whats-App-Image-2024-08-25-at-20-55-32-2.jpg]

“You have no idea what lies before you, do you?” he sneered, his voice thick with both ridicule and anticipation.

The frustration and anger I’d been holding back overflowed in that moment. I could barely move, but I couldn’t remain silent.

“I don’t know what you’re planning, old man, but I’m not your plaything!” I shot back, my voice laced with as much defiance as my weakened body could muster.

Vesper frowned, visibly irritated by my defiant tone. With a wave of his staff, the Deathweaver seized me once more, lifting me off the ground. The monster squeezed me tightly, wringing a pained gasp from me.

“It appears you still fail to grasp the gravity of your situation,” Vesper growled, slowly advancing as the creature held me in its clutches.

I was thrown back onto the lake’s shore, and despite my increasing weakness, my gaze again fell on the urn. That’s when I saw it: my family’s crest engraved at the center of the urn. An eye and a labyrinth crossed by a sword. My heart skipped a beat, and horror gripped me. What was the Graves family emblem doing here?

“I see you’ve noticed,” Vesper said with a twisted grin. “That’s the crest of your family, Kaion Graves.”

I turned to him, panic clear in my eyes.

“What does this mean?” I asked, barely able to keep the tremor from my voice.

Vesper let out a laugh that reverberated with madness through the cavern.

“What you’re looking at is an Abyssal Treasure, sealed by your ancestor and hidden here in the deep caverns of Draconia,” he explained, stretching his arms out as though to embrace the very darkness surrounding us.

My thoughts clashed with one another, attempting to comprehend the enormity of what he was saying. History had always taught that the first Abyssal King had sealed the treasures and scattered them across the continent. Klavier Graves had never been mentioned in that context.

“That’s impossible,” I said, my voice wavering with disbelief and fear. “No record speaks of Klavier sealing treasures. The first king was the one who sealed the Abyssal Treasures, not my ancestor.”

Vesper laughed again, this time with condescending amusement.

“You foolish boy, did you think the history they told you was the whole truth? History is a blend of truth and lies,” he said, moving closer to me. “Your ancestor, Klavier Graves, was a master of runes and magical seals. Or didn’t your mother teach you how to trace runes? The Graves family has passed down unique rune patterns, generation after generation.”

My mind grew clouded as I tried to absorb what I was hearing. I’d known that my family held secrets, but this… this was larger than anything I’d ever imagined. What else had they hidden from me? What other secrets lurked in the Graves legacy?

Vesper continued, his voice now tinged with sinister reverence for my ancestor.

“Klavier Graves was more powerful than the Abyssal King himself. He personally created the seals for the king’s treasures, branding them with the royal seal. But your ancestor also had his own treasures…” Vesper murmured almost worshipfully.

He leaned down toward me, his eyes blazing with an intensity that made my blood run cold.

“He personally hunted down and sealed the most dangerous beings in this deep continent—beings he deemed a threat to the world. He subdued them and trapped them in urns like this one. But today, you, son of Lysa, will break your ancestor’s seal and give me this treasure.”

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The horror of his words hit me like an icy wave. I knew what he was about to ask, and I was ready to refuse.

“No!” I shouted, desperation evident in my voice. “If I release whatever Klavier sealed in that urn, it’ll unleash unimaginable disaster!”

Vesper wasn’t fazed by my refusal. In fact, his grin widened, transforming into a sinister sneer.

“I won’t take ‘no’ for an answer,” he said with a chilling calm that froze my blood. “I’ve spent years trying to open this urn since I found it, guided by my great master. I’ve used these creatures to kidnap mages of various races skilled in runes, but none could decipher your family’s unique pattern. Only a Graves can destroy this seal. And you, Kaion, are the only one with the same elemental power as your ancestor.”

My mind raced. Everything fit together: his interest in me during the elemental affinity test, his obsession with my family—everything was connected. I knew I was in grave danger, but I couldn’t allow Vesper to release whatever Klavier had sealed.

“Vesper…” I began, my voice breaking from fear and exhaustion. “I don’t understand what you’re planning, but I can’t do what you’re asking. This is bigger than you or me, bigger than any of us. I can’t release that power.”

Vesper looked at me with a mix of pity and rage.

“Then prepare to die here, Kaion Graves, forgotten in the depths of Draconia,” he said, raising his staff with deadly intent.

The Deathweaver, obedient to its master, prepared to attack me, its eyes glinting with a hunger that made me shudder. I was cornered, but I couldn’t yield; I couldn’t let my family’s legacy be twisted by this madman.

I had to find a way out of this situation, to protect that legacy… and if necessary, to die before betraying everything my family had sworn to guard.

The menacing creature advanced, each of its steps echoing like a macabre rhythm in the vast underground cavern. The mana threads it wove glowed with a spectral light, creating a web of energy that seemed to ensnare all hope in its deadly net. I felt cornered, trapped against the cold rock of the wall. Cold sweat ran down my forehead. I knew I didn’t have much time. My mind, trained in logic and strategy, frantically sought a way out.

“Think, Kaion… think,” I repeated to myself, desperate for a solution. Suddenly, I felt a tingling in my eyes, and without realizing it, I activated my Eyes of Infinity purely on instinct. The invisible threads of fate were revealed before me, and then I saw it—a ghostly figure, almost imperceptible, watching from afar. I barely had time to take in its presence before it vanished, passing through one of the cavern walls.

“Ragna…” I murmured, recognizing the essence of the specter. He must be searching for me under orders from Eldric or Aria.

I knew I had to buy time, but I also knew any attempt to deceive Vesper would be risky. Yet I had no other choice.

“Eldric won’t forgive you for this, Vesper,” I said, trying to make my voice sound steady despite the fear gnawing at me. “You betrayed the Ancients, broke the laws you swore to protect. This won’t end well for you.”

Vesper looked at me with a mix of disdain and amusement, his eyes cold as ice.

“Eldric…” he said, savoring the name like a delicacy. “Users of the Edict of Space can only use their powers in places they know, child. This site is a secret Eldric will never uncover in time. You know as well as I do that a search party is out there, but that changes nothing.”

His grin widened as he raised his staff, flooding the cavern with an aura of dark power.

“Now, if you don’t release the Abyssal Treasure, you’ll never see your family or friends again.”

The threat was clear. I knew Vesper wouldn’t hesitate to kill me, and the Deathweaver was ready to execute that order. But I also knew I had to stay calm—any false move could seal my fate.

“I’ll cooperate,” I said, my tone calculated as I feigned submission. “If there’s truly no other option, I’ll do as you ask.”

Vesper relaxed his posture slightly, but his grin retained every ounce of its cruelty.

“That’s the correct decision, considering your position. Bring him to the center of the lake,” he ordered the Deathweaver, which began advancing with a sinister grace, weaving mana threads with its legs and tentacles as it moved.

image [https://i.postimg.cc/W16bPfK2/Whats-App-Image-2024-08-25-at-20-55-32-1-1.jpg]

I felt the creature’s cold tentacle wrap around me, lifting me with an ease that reminded me just how insignificant my resistance was in that moment. The Deathweaver carried me toward the center of the underground lake, where the ancient urn, surrounded by glowing runes, rested on a stone pedestal. The energy emanating from the urn was dense, heavy, as if I stood on the edge of an abyss that had no place in this world.

“I’m not releasing this without a good reason,” I thought as the Deathweaver brought me closer to the altar, encircled by the flickering runes that maintained the seal.

“Do it now, boy!” Vesper ordered from the distance. “Break the seal, or I swear your death will be slow and excruciating!”

I lifted my head, meeting Vesper’s gaze with a look that combined defiance and desperation. “And what guarantee do I have that you won’t kill me anyway once it’s done? Traitors aren’t usually people of their word.”

Vesper laughed, a hollow chuckle that echoed through the cavern like the chime of a broken bell. “Guarantee? There are no guarantees in this world, half-breed. But I give you my word… I don’t intend to kill you if you do as ordered. Not yet, at least. Your life holds value to me, and I can always use you for other purposes.”

The Deathweaver, obeying its master, began to release its tentacles from around me, leaving me standing before the urn. I could feel the weight of the destructive energy surrounding me, like standing on the edge of an endless abyss.

“The energy you feel belongs to the Edict of Destruction,” Vesper explained from a distance, his words laced with a perverse satisfaction. “Break the seal as quickly as possible, or that energy will consume you from within.”

His low, malicious laughter echoed through the cavern, a sound that made my blood run cold.

When the Deathweaver deposited me in front of the urn, I felt the gravity of the decision I was about to make. The runes on the urn’s surface glowed with an unnatural brilliance, and the wand in my pocket began to vibrate, pulsing in response to the Abyssal Treasure’s energy. It was as if the wand recognized the power sealed within the urn, which only heightened the tension I felt.

“I have two options,” I thought as my eyes traced the inscriptions on the urn. “Die here by Vesper’s hand or release whatever’s in this urn and gamble on fate.”

The choice was impossible. If I broke the seal, I could unleash a destructive force that would end everything. But if I didn’t, Vesper would kill me without hesitation. It was a dead end, a dilemma that left me with no options.

I took a deep breath, closing my eyes for a moment to steady my mind. I felt the weight of responsibility, of every life that could be affected by my decision. But I also knew I couldn’t stand still—I had to act if I wanted to survive.

“Fine,” I said, my voice steady, though fear still lingered within me. “I’ll do it.”

I touched the long pocket of my torn pants. The wand my sister had gifted me was vibrating more intensely as I neared the runes. The air around me grew heavier, charged with electricity. All I could do now was trust that the specter would alert Ragna and that the others would arrive in time.

And then, I touched the urn. The world seemed to freeze for an eternal second as the energy of destruction and my fate collided in that decisive moment.