The cave trembled.
It was faint at first.
A low, grating hum like the sound of teeth grinding. But it grew rapidly, the sound bouncing on the stone walls like the groan of a world on the brink of collapse.
Umbra's blood staff pulsed in her hand, the skull at its apex now fully aglow, casting pale red light across the chamber.
The crimson aura twisted and shifted the world unnaturally, casting reflections in angles that should not exist.
From the altar, the severed heads shrieked.
Their cried, their tongues twisted as the spoke in the profane tongue.
A wailing chorus of torment, their mouths gaping in agony, yet their voices rang clear in the minds of all present.
It was mad cacophony.
It was the very incepyof chaos and insanity.
It clawed at the edges of their thoughts, whispering in the ancient tongues.
Gregory collapsed to his knees, clutching his head as he groaned.
Richard grimaced but said nothing.
He merely narrowed his eyes, watching as the air above the altar warped like rippling water.
This was it.
A Devil was pushing its way through the veil beyond realities, summoned by human souls to cause chaos and despair.
The heads up on the altar continued the unholy chants, guiding the evil being closer and closer.
"Do not listen to the voices," Vagabond called out calmly, stepping back toward them. His body steamed with leftover energy from his last invocation, small trails of smoke rising from his shoulders.
"They will try to break your mind before your body."
Celine tightened her grip on her blade, sweat dripping down her chin despite the cold air. Her breath was uneven. She glanced at Richard, who hadn't moved an inch.
"What do we do now?" she asked sharply.
Richard didn't look at her. His gaze was fixed forward, his voice low.
"We watch."
"Watch what?" Celine brows shot up.
Richard grinned,
"The arrival of a Devil, od course. What? Don't look at me like that. You don't get to see this every day."
And then...
The veil tore.
The world twisted violently. Space itself folded inward. The shadows on the walls stretched into a grotesque mural of horrific proportions, screaming silently in horrid delight.
From within the tear, a form began to emerge.
At first it was a shape, featureless, writhing, and far too large for the space it inhabited. Then came its limbs.
Dozens, perhaps hundreds, each dripping with golden ichor, ending in claws and hooves.
Eyes. Hundreds of them, each with a profane rune inscribed in its depths, blinking, moving eyes, slid open across the surface of its flesh.
Gregory screamed. Never had he seen something so horrendous and maleficent.
Umbra's voice rose in incantation, her staff trembling as she forced her will against the thing's presence.
"In nome dei vetus, revocare! In nomen dei—"
But it was futile.
The creature's massive bulk finally forced its way fully into the world with a wet, flesh-ripping sound. Its body was wrong—its shape ever-shifting, as if its own existence rebelled against the laws of reality.
Richard's eyes lit up. Sure enough, floating at the center of this stygian nightmare were three Origin Essence Cores.
They pulsated with arcane might, each one completely filled with dark mana.
Richard's brows furrowed.
He hadn't expected it to retain that much of its original essence.
"Orders?" Vagabond asked, calmly wiping blood from his knuckles.
Cain glanced at the big guy with a frown.
Then he clicked his tongue,
"Umbra, keep suppressing its aura. Celine, don't let its limbs get too close. Gregory—"
"I—I can't—"
Richard's voice cut like steel. "Gregory."
The boy flinched.
"Focus, or you'll get us all killed."
Gregory swallowed, eyes still wide in terror, but he nodded.
Richard didn't wait.
He moved.
His body fizzled out of existence. Then he reappeared above the creature, blade drawn.
The air around it was viscous. Even time seemed to bend near this Devil.
'Razor, you are up.'
The dull steel of his blade suddenly gleamed with a terrible light.
Time seemed to slow down.
Twisting his wrist, Richard drew the blade across one of the limbs, slicing through it cleanly.
The Devil let out a guttural screech of pain.
And then it moved.
A limb lashed out, far too fast for a normal human to react to.
Vagabond stood in front of this abyssal creature, arms stretched, holding it on place as his muscles bulged.
"I'll hold it down."
Richard couldn't help but be impressed.
"Good." Richard muttered as he dashed forward.
His blade remained unstained as he hacked away at the devilish apparition, gold and black ichor splattering all over his body.
The Devil shifted. Its limbs spiraling outward in madness, reaching for anyone, anything.
Gregory lifted a trembling hand and formed a hand seal,
"Lux Tremenda!"
A golden lance of light burst from his palm, striking the Devil in the chest. The lance vanished into its body.
Nothing happened for a moment.
Then it began bubbling up before exploding into a mess of smoldering flesh and blood that splattered all over the walls and ceiling of the dark cave.
Umbra twirled her blood staff in her hands as she began chanting once again.
Spears of blood manifested from the Devils splattered ichor, stabbing at the creature from all directions.
Vagabond didn't hesitate as he began his invocation, groaning as he tugged on the limb in his grip, tearing it off the Devil.
Ancient runes circling his arms as his body burst into light again.
The Devil reacted instantly. Limbs curled and twisted, slashing through air, summoning phantom shrieks.
Vagabond ducked, leapt, twisted—one limb grazed his side, but he didn't stop.
He slammed his glowing fists into the Devil's chest.
A burst of energy.
The creature howled.
Umbra raised her staff, crimson symbols blazing.
Blood spiraled upward, forming a massive sigil above the creature.
The Devil screamed once more, this time in fury and desperation.
Stabbing his blade into the ground, Richard began casting a spell as well.
He could sense throttle changes in the air that the Devil was about to make a run for it.
'We can't have that happen now, can we?'
It was an anchoring spell to keep the Devil attached to their reality while Umbra cleansed it.
The Devil continued to wail and screech.
Finally, its limbs began to shrink.
Its body recoiled as it folded in on itself.
And then...
With a loud pop sound, the Devil collapsed in on itself, sending forth rivers of muddled viscera and blood.
Richard raised a brow,
'That's it?'
He looked around.
"Everyone alive?"
Gregory collapsed again, breathing heavily.
Umbra twirled her staff once before letting it dissipate into dust.
"That was fun."
Richard looked at the now-silent altar.
The hands has ceased their chanting.
He sighed.
"I really need a drink."
Richard exhaled slowly, rolling his shoulder with a wince. Sheathing his blade, he threw it to the side.
Then he crouched near the altar's edge, brushing aside the gunk until he found it; three shard of glowing stone, sharp-edged and pulsing faintly.
Embedded inside was a sliver of red light, flickering like a trapped soul.
"Core remnants," he muttered.
He licked his lips,
"The quality of a horror is certainly top notch."
Celine approached, a grim look on her face,
"What are you doing?"
Richard shrugged,
"Collecting the spoil of battle."
He glanced at Celine who had a disgusted expression on her face as she walked across the river of organs and bloody mush.
He chuckled,
"This should count as payment for our troubles."
Gregory still sat in the ground, his eyes glassy. The boy looked like a hollow husk. He was murmuring to himself,
"I should've stayed back. I should've stayed back…"
Umbra passed him, offering only a brief glance. Her wrist was still bleeding, though she didn't seem to care. She drew a folded scroll from her side satchel and began to inscribe something onto it in long, fluid characters with her own blood.
Once she wa done, she turned to Richard,
"The ritual anchor has been broken. This whole cavern is already collapsing."
Richard nodded. "Then let's get out of here."
A faint rumble trembled through the stone beneath their feet.
Vagabond approached,
"I'll take point," he said.
Richard gave him a brief nod. "Celine, rear guard. Umbra, middle. Gregory—"
"I can walk," the boy muttered, standing shakily.
Richard didn't comment. They formed a loose diamond formation and began the retreat.
Although there weren't any more threats left, it was common practice of magic practitioners to remain cautious to the very end.
They quickly arrived before the elevator's entrance.
Cain looked around. The cavernous walls were already cracks, piece of rubble falling with loud bangs as the world trembled.
That was only to be expected as this world was not part of the physical world.
Instead, it was a corridor.
A link between the abyss and the world.
The entire ordeal was very suspicious.
'That guy has a lot of questions to answer to then.'