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VALRAVN: Crimson Wings [A Dark Fantasy LitRPG]
Chapter 33.0 - A Meeting Centuries in the Making

Chapter 33.0 - A Meeting Centuries in the Making

I couldn’t defend against the spear. With all my remaining mana I launched myself up with a slanted stone pillar. Nearing the earth, I created an earth platform on which I landed to reduce the fall.

But as I was about to get up, an ice spear stabbed me in the stomach. I looked up. The silver-haired woman stood slumped, holding her shoulder with a hand, the other hand extended and aimed at me. Blood flowed down her arm.

I pulled out the ice spear and did my best to heal the wound. I was…

“Anastasia, how could you let yourself be hit?” The voice came from above. An older woman descended. Around her eyes, black eye shadow drew attention away from large purple eyebags. I remembered her– she was from the dungeon. I didn’t remember her name. Behind her, five humans covered in red cloaks followed.

“I’m alright,” answered Anastasia. She got on her knee.

The older woman gestured to me, and two cloaked figures approached me with light and synchronous steps. I swung my sword. My flames were about to reach the figures when the cloaks warped around the flames and snuffed them out. There was nothing under these silk cloaks.

The cloaks hardened and turned as flat as a sheet of parchment. They flew to me, spinning at incredible speeds.

I jumped to the side, but they followed and wrapped tight around me. I couldn’t move. The three other cloaks rushed my way and wrapped tight my arms, legs, and my mouth. I tried to scream, but nothing came out.

“And you,” said the woman from the dungeon. “Aren’t you rather an opportunistic one? Rosalia wouldn’t be very proud of you.” She approached me. “Where did you put the sceptre?”

The red cloak which wrapped around my mouth flew away, leaving the skin around my lips burning and bruised.

I looked around; I’d dropped it underground. My mind had gone hazy underground, the lack of fresh air. “I don’t have it.”

From a distance, Anastasia spoke, “he had it when I left the treasury. I’d never lie to you.” Her eyes didn’t waver. They emanated strength and firmness. Absolute devotion.

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“Then where did you store it? Rosalia’s rolling in her grave knowing her descendent used such underhanded methods.”

The cloak came back to me, pulled my head back, and forced my eyes to stare into hers. Her white and black eyes sucked me in. The space around her twisted and blurred until I could only see her, then only her face, and finally, she became nothing but eyes and a mouth.

I tried to shake myself back into sobriety, but the red cloak kept me staring into her. I tried to close my eyes, but red silk kept them open.

I had to resort to my Mental Dam skill. My sight returned and the world returned to what it had been.

“Where did you put the sceptre,” repeated the woman.

I decided to act as tame and docile as possible to keep up the act. “I don’t know?”

The woman’s smile contorted. “When did you last have it?”

“In the treasury.” I hoped they weren’t going to search the earth too thoroughly and I could come back and find it. The surrounding was a mess. What used to be flat grounds were now hills, crevices, and scares.

“How could you lose it? Fuck!”

To keep up appearances I answered her previous statement-question, “I don’t know.”

“Shut up—”

A pale white hand popped out of the earth. Everyone turned around. Several grey, ghoul hands emerged out of the earth and pulled at the cloaks imprisoning me. Their hands were cold.

We all looked up. Above us, Derick floated in the air. Did all beasts in ancient times invest points in flight magic, or did siding with the lich grant them such power?

“It’s been a few centuries, Janal. Where have you been hiding? I see that you’ve collected quite a few crystals.”

It was the bald lady I’d seen in the dream or vision of the Dungeon.

A flame lance formed in Janal’s hand. As soon as it stabilized, she threw it. Derick flew up. The lance followed him up. He pulled a knife out of his garments, cut his palm, and flung his blood onto the flames. These turned crimson and shot back to Janal. The spear spun faster and faster as it approached her. When it came within a few seconds of her she jumped up, letting her spear skewer the ground.

The ghouls continued to struggle at my red cloak bindings. But I still couldn’t move.

Derick brought his knife up to his mouth and cut a line on his top palate. He mixed his spit with blood and spat in the air. The concoction formed multiple balls of blood which expanded into large balloons. “Instead of spending my time building up an army of ants, I’ve worked on my magic and knowledge.” The blood spheres separated into hundreds of little pearls and turned to needles so thin sunlight turned them near invisible.

The cloaks released me and flew above Janal and the silver-haired woman.

The ghoul’s hands grabbed me, held me tight on the ground.

The red needles rained down.