Chapter 212 – Floor 34: Part 2

Goal: Establish a Kingdom for the Harboured and rule over it as their Sovereign. Note: This will be a Multi-Floor objective, prepare accordingly. You will be given 10,000 Units of Aether and a suit of armour to wear throughout the entirety of this Multi-Floor mission.

Mathew lowered his arm and let out a sigh. 10,000 units were nothing, but it was currently his entire net worth. He hadn’t received much Aether since he had become an Apostle to Unyielding Declaration. If he had to guess the reason, it obviously had something to do with the god.

Was Unyielding Declaration stealing his Aether for its own purpose?

Unfortunately, Mathew didn’t have an answer to that question and was left with no choice but to put it out of his mind. Thankfully, something happened to help him.

Mathew was engulfed in a white light and when it faded, he found that his clothing was gone and a new magical suit of armour replaced it.

The suit of armour was an imposing creation. It was crafted from dark, shimmering metal that seemed to absorb light rather than reflect it. Its design was both ornate and menacing, with sharp angles and intricate patters that mimicked the twisting shapes of some sort of runes and gylphs.

Mathew walked to the wall of the elevator and took a look at himself in the shiny, metallic surface. The helmet of the armour was particularly striking, featuring a crest that rose high from the center. There were spikes along the edge of the element that reminded Mathew of a crown.

The visor, when lowered, was shaped like a malevolent grin and crafted with narrow slits that glowed with a crimson hue, giving Mathew a devilish look that suggested an otherworldly intelligence lurked within.

The back of the armour had a long cloak that billowed out from his body like a living shadow. Even in the still space of the elevator, it flowed and shifted as if it had a mind of its own. He watched it ripple and undulate, creating the illusion that darkness itself was wrapped around him.

To his surprise, the Wrathful Blade was sheathed at his hip. The sword weighed practically nothing and Mathew suspected there was an enchantment at work here to allow him to wield it. The flat point of the weapon rested in a sheathe as dark as his armour, matching it perfectly.

“I guess I’m going to be playing the villain again. At least I have some experience.” Mathew muttered as the elevator slowly came to a halt and the door opened.

Page Break

Hilo hiked up the steep, stony slopes of the Ashen Peak, each step a battle against the burning wind that howled like a wounded beast. Even now, the mountain spewed ash and smoke into the air. The ground had stopped shaking, but the effects of the devastation of the eruption were still evident.

Fire consuming some of the scant patches of grass, and magma cooled along the side of the mountain. It made the climb difficult, but they had no choice but to make the trek.

Hilo was joined by thousands of others, their bodies making a long line up the slope of the mountain toward the peak where the blinding light pulsated, calling to them. Their saviour was up there now, waiting for them to make the climb.

The mountain loomed above him, its surface spotted with dark, charred rock and patches of ashen grey. All were remnants of previous eruptions that had forever altered the landscape. The air was thick with the stink of sulphur and the ragged cloth he held against he nose and mouth did very little to mask the smell.

The ground beneath Hilo’s rag-wrapped feet crumbled to dust as if the mountain itself was reluctant to bear his weight. He could feel the sharp rocks beneath, but his soles had long been hardened by his lack of shoes so they didn’t hurt him at all.

As he ascended, Hilo’s heart raced. It wasn’t just from the physical exertion but from the haunting allure of the pillar of light that had drawn them all to this place. It pulsed like a heartbeat against the dull backdrop of the mountain.

The Harboured took it as a beacon of hope, a sign that their deliverance was at hand. The light danced at the edge of his vision, flickering and shifting as it teased him to moved onwards through the desolate land and up the mountain.

Hilo was a figure of determination; his weathered face was set with grim resolve. His grey hair whipped wildly in the hot wind. His tattered clothing flapped against his thin body, and his back bent with the struggle of climbing. But he pressed forward, each breath burning in his lungs.

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Rugged cliffs jutted out like teeth from the sides of the mountain, casting long shadows that seemed to reach for him. As he climbed higher, the ground grew more unstable. The heat increased, an odd thing as the peak of the mountain was said to be incredibly cold.

Perhaps it was caused by the light above him that burned brightly, illumining the path ahead with an ethereal glow. Or maybe it was the rivers of magma that had cooled enough that their fire was dim, leaving long, black streaks against the ash.

Every so often, Hilo would pause to catch his breath. At these times, he would look at the swirling clouds above where the smoke and soot had formed a vortex around the pillar of light. It seemed to be waiting for Hilo and the others to reach the peak; the arrival of whatever being sent to deliver them was delayed until they completed their trek.

Hilo finally reached the summit of the Ashen Peak, breathless and awestruck as he stood on the rim of a vast crater. The air here was thick and stifling, pressing down on him like an unseen weight.

Before him lay a sprawling expanse of molten rock, a chaotic dance of magma and lava swirling within the depths of the crater. The vibrant reds and oranges throbbed ominously, casting a flickering glow that illuminated the blackened rim of the crater around him.

In the center of this tumultuous sea of fire stood a platform made of polished obsidian, its surface glimmering like a dark mirror. The light Hilo and the others had been seeking erupted from this platform, a pillar of blinding radiance that shot upwards, piercing the heavy clouds above.

It twisted and spiralled, sending shimmering sparks into the air, creating a glow of brilliance that contrasted sharply with the grim surroundings.

The silence enveloped him, a profound stillness that felt almost sacred. It was as if the world had paused to witness the spectacle before him. Hilo could feel his heartbeat in his ears, timed to resonate with the oppressive energy that thrummed through the air.

Everyone and everything in the world felt like they were holding their breath for this moment.

Hilo stepped closer to the rim of the crater; the heat radiation from below washed over him. His skin felt dry, and he tasted blood from his chapped lips. But he couldn’t look away; he was unwilling to miss even a second of what was happening.

Others gathered close around him; tens of thousands of the Harboured had made the ascent. An entire population, all that remained of a people, was here to meet their saviour.

Hilo could have cried from the sheer joy of it, but there was no water to spare for tears. Instead, he clasped his hands together and stared at the platform and its hovering light without blinking.

Suddenly, the pillar of light erupted with a thunderous boom. A blinding flash enveloped the crater. Hilo staggered backwards and shielded his eyes as the brilliance seared through the dim glow of the fires below.

There was an explosion of sound that reverberated throughout the crater, sending shockwaves that rattled the ground beneath his feet. The pillar of light expanded, and the clouds above were driven away to reveal the night sky.

Gradually, the light began to fade, and Hilo lowered his arm from his face to see better. Blinking his eyes rapidly to clear them of dust, he saw a figure emerge from the radiant core of the pillar of light. Contrasted by the white light, the figure was difficult to make out, and Hilo squinted in an attempt to see them.

The light blinked out, leaving the crater with its original red glow and Hilo could finally see the figure in detail.

They were clad in dark armour, tall and imposing. The armour was designed with sharp angles and harsh lines, creating and aura of both elegance and menace. A black cloak billowed behind the figure, stretching far into the distance and swirling around as if it were alive.

In the figure’s hands was a massive sword, strikingly unique in its design. The blade was broad and flat, reminiscent of an executioner’s tool. It lacked a point, yet it exuded a sense of lethal purpose. Its surface was rusty and old as if it had been left out in the elements for ages.

It seemed odd that the blade would be uncared for since the figure’s armour was spotless, but it seemed to fit somehow.

Hilo felt a chill run down his spine as he beheld this dark figure, an embodiment of dread stepping forth from the heart of the light. The air crackled with tension, and an oppressive silence fell over the crater once more.

The figure calmly surveyed those gathered, the black visor of his helmet reflecting the light of the fires around them. It blocked the figure’s face, leaving Hilo and the Harboured to wonder who, or what, this figure was.

Had a demon been sent to the Harboured to devour them for their sins?

After a long moment of silence where the armoured figure looked at the Harboured and the crater around them, it stepped forward and spoke. Its voice boomed out, and Hilo clapped his hands over his ears and the sudden noise.

“I am The Enduring, Apostle to the god of Unyielding Declaration. I have been sent to protect and shelter you. To construct a kingdom in this place for you to live in where I will be your Sovereign. I know of your struggles against the Kelestrians, and I sympathize with your plight.” The man said, and his words were so stirring that Hilo lowered his hands from his ears to listen.

Hilo forgot his discomfort. He forgot the heat and the fact that he was thirsty. He forgot his hunger and his pain. For the first time in his life, Hilow felt hope. The armoured man stepped to the edge of the platform and raised the large, flat-ended sword high into the air.

“I promise all of you this: If you serve me faithfully, you will be provided with everything that has been denied to you. We will forge a kingdom that will last through the ages, and no one, not even the Kelestrians or the gods themselves, will be able to take it from you!”

The Enduring finished his speech, the words echoing across the rim of the crater. But the silence didn’t return. Hilo and tens of thousands of Harboured were yelling. It was a wordless shout of joy, of pent-up anger and despair that had finally found an outlet.

It was a shout of hope.