Within the Abyssal Halls

In the gigantic chamber, lit only by remnants of fire smoldering on the ground, the roars of enormous, monstrous creatures echoed.

All of them were deformed mutations of what they had once been in a distant past, with little or nothing left of their original form.

Graaaagh!

Another roar. But like the ones that had come before in that chamber, it was not meant to intimidate. It was a cry of pain, for the monstrous creature had just lost an arm.

That severed limb was held a few meters away by a muscular man clad in dragon-scale armor.

Neither his shoulder-length black hair nor his pointed beard and mustache seemed the least bit disheveled, and his immaculate appearance contrasted sharply with the massive, bloody arm he held in his claws.

The limb was nearly the size of his own body, yet Rafal lifted it as if it weighed no more than a feather.

Soon, however, the ancient dragon in human form hurled the monster’s arm. It slammed into the wall with a thunderous crash, sinking deep into the stone and nearly piercing through to the other side, thus proving its true mass.

Now Rafal’s claws were free, and the gigantic creatures surrounding him stepped back several paces. For though little or nothing remained of their reasoning, fear was still an animal instinct they had not lost.

Rafal glanced at the gauntlets he had summoned over his arms and nodded in satisfaction.

They were made of his own scales, just like his armor, and bore sharp, terrifying claws instead of fingers.

Few things in Ameritia could boast of being sharper than a dragon’s claws, let alone those of an ancient dragon.

"Do not worry, I take no pleasure in bullying lesser creatures. Once I have trained enough to grow accustomed to this human form, I will end all of your suffering."

No one could say whether the monsters understood Rafal’s words, but it was clear they stepped back several more paces.

Or perhaps it was because of the wings that unfurled from his back.

***

Not far from the part of the dungeon where Rafal was fighting, another battle was taking place, or rather, a massacre.

One side was practically an army. Whether by some ancient magic, their weapons and armor still kept their shape, though they were horribly rusted and missing many pieces.

Their bearers had also endured through time, but either because they had perished in battle thousands of years ago or for reasons unknown, they had not become grotesque mutations like the creatures in the nearby chamber or like the Abyssal Spawn. Instead, their flesh had rotted and decayed, leaving behind only cursed bones.

The skeletons had once belonged to both ancient enemies and allies. Now that no longer mattered, and all wandered in search of any visitor to hurl themselves upon, whether due to a lingering defensive spell of the dungeon or simply out of spite toward those still alive.

The army, remnants of millennia-old soldiers, attacked with a frozen fury that could be felt deep within their very bones.

But their attacks were in vain. How could it be otherwise? The most they could manage was to swing their weapons through the air. Even that was difficult, for the winds of the hurricane around them were about to tear apart each bone that made them whole.

What sent the undead army whirling through the dungeon’s skies was the magic of the opposing side in that battle: a beautiful young woman and an old man with a long white beard.

"How many humans are here? You are truly incompetent. To think that you would swell the Demon King’s forces even after his death…"

"Ho, ho, ho. Those are painful words to hear, Lady Lirilien," replied Meldior, stroking his beard. "But do not be so harsh with them. They all perished trying to protect their loved ones."

"I believe riches and promises of glory played a large part in their recruitment… but you are right, it is not proper to speak ill of the fallen. I apologize."

Lirilien opened her hand, and from a green glow in her palm emerged a white flower, pure and immaculate. She raised it, and the wind she had conjured with magic scattered its petals among the fallen who were still cursed to wander Ameritia. It was her way of honoring them.

"For that very reason, I believe this spectacle has gone on long enough, Meldior," Lirilien declared. "I will leave the honors to you."

"As you wish, Lady."

"Asdoreos."

The old mage raised his staff, and in front of it a magic circle took form. Soon after, radiant flashes began to appear within Lirilien’s hurricane, as though parts of the wind itself had been dyed with luminous silver.

These flashes evaporated any skeleton they touched, and the dungeon’s army quickly began, at last, to find eternal peace.

***

They were nothing like the majestic halls of the palace of the Citadel of Dawn in Endalor, but the Demon King’s dungeon was certainly a gigantic structure.

The light from the magical spheres I had created to illuminate the way did not reach the ceiling, and it seemed as though only darkness stretched above my head.

In width it was no less impressive, and more than a couple of trucks could have driven side by side through what looked like the main corridor.

Well, that’s what I say, but truckers would have a hard time advancing along a road littered with the corpses of Abyssal Spawn scattered all over it.

At least I no longer sensed any presence other than that of Rafal, Meldior, Lirilien, and their respective enemies. But the enemies’ presence was vanishing quickly, which meant my party members would soon finish their part of the exploration.

It was an improvised party, since according to Meldior the minimum in a normal party was five members for safety reasons… Yet I still felt as though we had entered a beginner’s dungeon with a party ready for the last boss…

Although generally the Demon King is the final boss. But in this case he was already defeated, and just one among many…

I would have liked to bring Coletto and Merite. But all the high and great spirits were finishing the last touches on the enchantments in the new city of Myrthalas, and I preferred that they help with that despite their complaints.

Lirilien slipped away to accompany me, but the princess’s efficiency is terrifying. She had no trouble arranging everything so she would only need to check the final results once she returned to Orb.

…

Anyway, I’ve been lost in my thoughts for quite a while… But the shadowed figure that appeared in the distance a few moments ago shows no sign of reacting…

And I still can’t sense its presence, even though I can see it right in front of me…