Chapter 395: Secret of the Enforcement Elder (2)
Third Person’s POV
Every step he took landed without sound despite his colossal frame, like an experienced predator moving through its den.
The faint bloody moonlight bled across the stone walls and cast grotesque shadows that writhed as he passed.
His sharp black eyes darted with habitual caution and scanned each corridor and junction as though unseen eyes might be watching.
At last, he reached the top floor of one of the unremarkable, nondescript wings of the fortress.
Before him stood a small, plain-looking old door, ordinary enough to be overlooked by anyone who didn’t know about it beforehand.
He paused and swept the bloody-lit hallway with one last glance, and only when he was sure that no one was in sight did he stoop low, open the door with deliberate care, and slip inside.
The door shut behind him with a faint, final click that didn’t sound at all in the silent dark of the night.
The chamber beyond was cramped and suffocating, lit only by the faint red glow of runes carved into a tall, square altar of pale bone.
The altar loomed with an unnatural presence, with every line of its surface crawling with dark red inscriptions that seemed to pulse like veins feeding on unseen lifeblood.
And upon that altar rested a grotesque relic.
It was a twisted, misshapen red skull.
Not only is its size a lot bigger than an average human’s, but its contours were also malformed, its jaw askew, as though it had once belonged to something humanoid but had long since warped into something far more sinister.
The moment Solomon’s eyes fell upon it, his body went rigid.
His immense frame, which was usually so immovable no matter the situation, tightened with instinctive wariness.
He lowered his head and bowed slightly as he spoke with deliberate restraint.
"Your Excellency, I have done as you commanded."
For a heartbeat, there was only silence.
But then, with a low hum, the skull’s eye sockets flickered to life and were filled with a faint, baleful crimson glow.
Its teeth clattered together, and the sound it made was sharp and uneven, similar to age old bones rattling in a grave.
From that horrible set of conical teeth that stretched from its ear to ear, a voice sounded.
It was thin, fractured, and grating to the ears, yet carrying a solemn weight that pressed upon the air itself.
"Nicely... done... Solomon. Since I keep my word, you will get your reward.
I grant you leave... to use the castle’s hidden passage into the Dark Abyss with the protection of my secret charm.
You may tread it... But only for seven days, and heed me well, you must return within a week.
If you linger beyond, you shall never find your way back... no matter how strong the people of this world consider you, and it won’t matter then even if you struggle with every fibre of your being."
Hearing such an ominous warning, the hulking demon elder, Solomon, did not tremble, but his great chest swelled as he tried to contain the surge of excitement coursing through him.
His fists clenched, and only by willpower did he keep his booming voice steady.
"Yes, Your Excellency. You need not worry. I swear upon my very life that I will abide by your words."
The skull tilted slightly, and from it issued a sound disturbingly close to a sigh, though it carried no humanity and only malice worn thin by time.
"Do not take my words lightly, Solomon.
Many before you, in fact, too many, entered that abyss with the same fervour in their eyes.
But almost all of them perished there, swallowed whole by the void and the evil beings that dwell there.
Remember, excitement... is poison there. You must be calm foremost."
Hearing this, Solomon seemed to be confused, as for a second, he suspected that he gleaned a bit of concern in the sinister skull’s voice.
But in the next second, he scoffed at his own thinking and squashed that thought forever, as how could that be possible?
This being was infamous for its ancient malevolence and evil that radiated from every fibre of its being.
Ignoring the nonsensical thought that rose in him, he focused on the content of the skull’s words and his pulse spiked with cold dread as he instantly quenched the fire that had been building in his heart.
His throat worked once before he nodded deeply, though his voice was now more subdued and solemn than before.
"I understand. I will not repeat their mistakes."
He turned as though to leave, but hesitation gripped him.
For several moments, he stood, torn between obedience and curiosity, before finally asking in a low, difficult voice:
"Does... she know of this, Your Excellency?"
As soon as the words left his mouth, the air in the small dark room changed instantly.
Without warning, the red skull lifted from the altar and floated toward him.
In less than a blink, it hovered before his face, with its glowing scarlet balls in its empty sockets burned into his own.
Even Solomon, whose might dwarfed most beings in the Sanctum, instinctively recoiled with beads of cold sweat dripping across his granite-hard features.
The malformation of the skull protruded mouth seemed to twist in the flickering red light, and its deformed mouth widened into a scary grin that seemed to freeze his blood into ice.
"No," the voice rasped, colder now.
"She does not know. And even if she were to discover it... what of it?
I granted you this chance. It is my will, and my choice alone. Remember that well, Solomon."
The Elder bowed low, nearly shaking.
His earlier boldness curdled into shame, and he cursed himself inwardly for daring to question.
He knew this being’s hatred for that "old hag," and still he had asked.
His action could only be described as being foolish to the extreme.
"Forgive my ignorance, Your Excellency," he murmured quickly, voice thick with self-reproach.