image [https://i.imgur.com/eY2gF5l.png]
Four towering obelisks loomed in the corners of the chamber, their stone surfaces covered in a mossy overgrowth, with intricate runic-like inscriptions etched upon them.
Mila and Graybeard cautiously surveyed their surroundings as they advanced towards the center of the room.
Mila's finger pointed towards the towering obelisks, barely visible amidst the radiant glow of the wisps above. "What are those structures?"
"They are the Obelisks of Darkness, the very keys we must use to move forward." Ifrit replied.
Graybeard interrupted, a somber expression etched upon his face, as he gestured for Mila to halt. "Hold on, lass. I have a foreboding sense about all of this. Something feels awry."
Perplexed, Mila inquired, "What's troubling you?"
"The runic inscriptions, the undead we encountered earlier... It seems as though they were intended to keep us out of this place."
Mila responded, a tinge of frustration in her voice, "You may be right, but remember, this whole thing was your idea."
Graybeard's attention turned to the inscriptions, as he approached one of the weathered stones, placing his hand upon its surface. His voice grew in concern as he asked, "What do these inscriptions say?"
Ifrit's voice emanated from within his jar, his tone filled with ancient wisdom. "It is a form of runic language beyond your comprehension. What you know as runic is a modified version of the true language, even I do not possess a complete understanding of it."
Graybeard narrowed his eyes, shifting his gaze towards the duo. Mila extended her hand, holding the jar before her. "So, how do we unlock this gate?"
"This task falls upon you, Mila," Ifrit responded. "You must tap into the powers residing within the obelisks. I will contribute what remains of my magic to aid you."
Mila appeared both astonished and uncertain. "You want to lend me your magic?"
"Yes, your powers alone will not suffice to establish a connection with the ancient wisdom held within these stones. It will require our combined strength to overcome their defenses," Ifrit explained.
Graybeard joined the conversation, standing beside Mila. "And how do we initiate this ritual? Where do we begin?"
"In front of us lies a circle of power, the starting point for our ritual. Mila, step into the circle and lift me into the air," Ifrit explained. "Once that is done, Mila, you must stand perfectly still within the circle, clearing your mind of any positive emotions. You may choose to feel nothing, but to fully access the powers I will channel, you may experience surges of anger and fury. Embrace them."
Graybeard interjected, his tone filled with concern. "No, no, no... This doesn't feel right. Something seems off about this plan."
"NO! I will do this, Graybeard! Stop treating me like a child," Mila retorted, her determination unwavering.
Graybeard persisted, attempting to dissuade her. "None of this feels right. Trust me, Mila."
"No, we are going through with this, one way or another. I will not allow such a powerful weapon to fall into their hands," Mila declared, her resolve unyielding.
"Forget about this, let's go home. Let's return to your uncle. That bow... it may very well be cursed. What good are we if we use their powers to fight against them?" Graybeard pleaded.
"Mila, you know what needs to be done," Ifrit suggested, his dark voice resonating within her mind.
Without hesitation, Mila stepped into the circle of power, surprising Graybeard with her unwavering determination.
"What have you done?!" Graybeard exclaimed, a mix of worry and fear in his voice.
Mila raised her hand, holding the jar as instructed by Ifrit.
"If you want to save her, you must protect her," Ifrit's voice whispered into Graybeard's ear.
"Protect her?" Graybeard muttered, contemplating his next move.
As if responding to the energy in the room, the obelisks began to emit a radiant light, their power intensifying. A tremendous force of energy surged from the obelisks, converging at the apex to form a powerful beam that shone down upon the jar and Mila standing beneath it.
Mila clenched her teeth, feeling the immense pressure of the power coursing through her. A faint cry of anguish escaped her lips, her legs trembling under the weight of the overwhelming force.
From all corners of the room, an army of undead beings emerged, their eyes radiating with necromantic energy. Dwarves, humans, and even elves among their ranks, their existence now reduced to hollowed cries of eternal torment that echoed throughout the chamber.
Hovering above, the wisps continued to laugh, their ethereal bodies floating in the air, seemingly amused by the unfolding scene.
"Shit..." grumbled Graybeard, his determination unyielding as he stood firm in his sturdy boots, his mighty axe poised before him.
The undead charged towards the center from all directions, converging upon the gathering magical energies that flowed towards the apex of the room.
With a mighty swing of his axe, Graybeard unleashed a flurry of strikes, cutting down the undead ranks with furious determination.
The undead adversaries were swiftly dispatched, leaving Graybeard perspiring as he wiped his forehead.
Above them, the wisps continued their laughter, their voices carrying a childlike quality that echoed through the cavern.
The wisps began to move in a mesmerizing circular pattern above, their rhythmic laughter and graceful motion capturing Graybeard's attention.
"Don't fixate on them for too long," Ifrit whispered, his voice a subtle warning.
Breaking his gaze from the wisps, Graybeard redirected his focus, only to be confronted by a fresh wave of undead emerging before him.
A guttural scream erupted from Mila's lips as she was overcome by intense pain coursing through her body.
"Do not falter!" Ifrit's voice commanded, resolute and unyielding. "Keep going!"
Gritting her teeth, Mila summoned every ounce of strength within her, pushing through the torment and refusing to let the pain deter her from the task at hand. She focused her resolve, determined to endure the hardships in order to fulfill the ritual.
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image [https://i.imgur.com/lhqCDcB.png]
"Move faster!" Alpos bellowed, his voice filled with urgency and frustration.
The colossal cannon, tasked with cutting through the imposing runic door, was only halfway complete. The fortification proved to be more formidable than Alpos had anticipated.
Suddenly, the cavern trembled violently as stalagmite-like quartz formations hanging from the ceiling plummeted to the ground, causing chaos and panic among the demons. Desperately seeking shelter, they huddled underneath the very cannon they had been employing to breach the door.
Baffled by the unexpected turn of events, Alpos scanned the disarrayed scene, his mind racing to comprehend what had just occurred. The tremors were unlike any ordinary earthquake he had experienced before.
"No... it can't be... IFRIT!" Alpos exclaimed, his realization dawning upon him.
Approaching his elite guard, who stood unwavering atop the cannon, Alpos issued swift commands. "You ten, come with me! The rest of you, continue cutting through the gate!"
With his chosen escort, Alpos swiftly made his way out of the chamber, his elite guard trailing closely behind him.
"What was that earthquake?" one of the elite guards questioned, his voice filled with concern.
"Ifrit... he is attempting to free himself,"
"But how? Wasn't he sealed within a jar?"
"Some fool is aiding him, though I have no idea who could be foolish enough to do so. They are currently on the 11th floor, where Ifrit can free himself from his restraints," Alpos explained, his voice laced with frustration.
"How did they manage to bypass our notice?" another guard asked, his concern palpable.
"There must be a hidden passage within this cave, and I failed to recognize it. There was one place that seemed out of the ordinary—the pedestal. That's where the secret passage lies..." Alpos realized, his expression a mix of realization and regret.
In a rush, the group hurried back to the first floor, their urgency guiding their steps. Alpos approached the pedestal, reading the runic inscriptions engraved upon it. Frustrated, he struck the pedestal with his fist.
"DAMN IT!" Alpos exclaimed, his voice filled with anger and disappointment.
"What's the issue?" one of the guards questioned, his concern mirrored by the others.
"This secret passage will not open a second time. It is a one-time-use magical passage," Alpos explained, his tone tinged with frustration.
"Then our only path forward is..." another guard trailed off, the realization sinking in.
"That's right," Alpos confirmed, determination hardening in his voice, "we must face that damn gate head-on."
Alpos and his minions hastily returned to the imposing gate that had been impeding their progress. The demons serving under him still trembled in fear, their fear evident in their eyes.
"Out of my way!" Alpos commanded, forcefully shoving aside a demon that dared to approach him.
"I am a Doom Guard, and I refuse to be defeated by a measly door! Demons, take your positions! We are going to smash down this door here and now!"
"But the door is only halfway cut," one of his guards pointed out, voicing their concern.
"We will direct our magic straight at the seal itself. No more cutting along the edges," Alpos declared confidently.
"Yes, my lord," the guard acknowledged, conveying his understanding of the new plan.
The cannon roared to life, its magical energies surging forth, now directed at the central seal of the door. The concentrated power aimed to shatter the lock and bypass the remaining obstacle.
"I didn't come this far to go back empty-handed... Damn it, why did we lock Ifrit here of all places..."
Alpos watched intently, impatience evident in his stance as he awaited the removal of the seal. He was determined to overcome this barrier and proceed forward, no matter the cost.
image [https://i.imgur.com/7fgH3qs.png]
"We're almost there... Just a little longer," Ifrit's voice echoed in their ears, urging them to press on.
The seal on the jar containing Ifrit's spirit had weakened a great deal, the magical energies surging forth from the obelisks allowing him to free himself and in doing so poison Mila's mind.
Graybeard, gasping for air and leaning on his axe, expressed his exhaustion. "I can't... I can't fight anymore," he admitted, his strength depleted.
Another wave of undead emerged from the depths, slowly advancing towards the center where Graybeard and Mila stood.
"Ifrit spoke, offering a solution, "We'll buy you some time to rest, Graybeard."
Whispering to Mila, Ifrit imparted his guidance, "Channel my powers, tap into your rage and anger, and unleash the flames I bestow upon you upon the approaching undead."
Under the influence of the negative energies, Mila's expression twisted into a devilish grin as she brought down her arm, summoning demonic-like magical circles. Graybeard's eyes widened in surprise as Mila allowed the dark energies to influence her mind and soul, unleashing a torrent of flames that engulfed the undead charging towards her, reducing them to ashes in an instant.
"What power..." Graybeard murmured, awe-struck by the display.
Shifting her focus to the undead advancing from the other sides, Mila unleashed wave after wave of scorching flames, each strike devastating the enemy forces and leaving the damned in charred trails.
Graybeard, concerned for Mila, reminded her, "Don't give into his powers, Mila. Remember who you are. You are not a demon."
Undeterred, Mila chanted, "Summon, Fire Elemental."
In response to her invocation, two fiery beings materialized before her, their bodies composed of pure fire—Fire Elementals.
"Go forth, my children," Ifrit commanded, his voice resonating with authority. "Aid this dwarf in the annihilation of the undead before us."
With Graybeard unable to fight, the Fire Elementals took up the mantle, blazing through the ranks of the undead, reducing them to smoldering ashes as they fulfilled their mission with relentless determination. With the aid of the fire elementals now under Mila's command, she could continue with the ritual.
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After what felt like an eternity, the door finally gave way, the lock destroyed by the relentless barrage of hellfire launchers. The demons and undead forces were left utterly exhausted from their arduous labor. With his elite guard by his side, Alpos dismissed the demons, sending them back to the depths of the underworld.
"Quickly... We must stop this ritual at all costs," Alpos urged, his voice filled with urgency and determination. Time was of the essence, and they needed to intervene before the ritual could reach its climax.
As they descended deeper into the caverns, the ground trembled beneath their feet, the very air pulsating with heightened magical energies. Each step they took only intensified the aura surrounding them until they finally reached the 11th floor.
In the center of the 11th floor stood a tall young woman, an elf, clutching a jar tightly in her hands—the vessel containing Ifrit. Standing beside her was a resolute dwarf, and flanking them were the two formidable fire elementals, undoubtedly conjured by Ifrit's power.
Alpos wasted no time in issuing his command, his voice filled with authority and urgency. "Stop the ritual now!"
image [https://i.imgur.com/lhqCDcB.png]
"We're almost there," Ifrit whispered to Mila, his voice filled with a sense of urgency. "But we cannot allow all this effort to go to waste. We must continue the ritual. Do not stop."
Mila's soul, drained and wearied from the countless hours of the ritual, found itself too exhausted to resist. The relentless assault of negative energies had taken its toll, chipping away at her mind and resolve.
Despite her weariness, Mila hesitated for a moment, her eyes flickering with inner conflict. She recognized the dangerous path she was treading, the toll it was taking on her very being. Yet, the weight of the task at hand and the desperate desire to complete the ritual pressed upon her.
In a moment of surrender, Mila nodded, her determination mixed with a tinge of resignation. With a heavy heart, she allowed herself to be consumed by the dark energies once more, recommencing the ritual that threatened to exact a heavy cost on her soul.
image [https://i.imgur.com/7fgH3qs.png]
The young woman, her eyes gleaming with determination, regarded Alpos with a mix of defiance and resolution. She tightened her grip on the jar but remained silent, a testament to her commitment to the task at hand.
The dwarf raised his weapon in a defensive stance, prepared to protect the elf and Ifrit at all costs.
The fire elementals, their fiery presence crackling with anticipation, exuded an air of fierce loyalty, ready to unleash their elemental might upon any who dared to threaten their summoner.
image [https://i.imgur.com/Qj0qq7o.png]