Sparks from burning torches crackled from all sides, lined neatly along the cracked, ancient stone walls. A figure clad in a black robe walked at the front, carrying a staff, leading the way for Merry and Aleeora.
The atmosphere was deathly silent, so silent that the sound of footsteps became the loudest thing in the space. Merry held Aleeora tightly in her arms, walking slowly as she followed the robed figure while cautiously glancing around.
There were not just one, but two more robed figures ahead, positioned on the second floor. They sat there motionless, watching.
Merry's eyes widened in disbelief when one of the robed figures turned to face her. It was not a human face, but a skull—one without a neck. Flames roared around it, forming a terrifying visage.
"It seems Duriel has been defeated," said the robed figure above. He stared intently at the crystal ball before him, which displayed the image of a massive creature lying completely still.
Beside the creature stood two figures—Harres and Leah—who had successfully brought Duriel down.
"That beast was unreliable from the start," said the robed figure on the left.
The robed figure on the right immediately turned his head.
"Watch your words, Gronian!" he snapped, returning his gaze to the crystal ball. "That was my pet. You have no right to speak of it that way."
Gronian merely snorted, unconcerned, resting his flaming skull against his hand.
"This wouldn't have happened if you hadn't kept feeding it things it shouldn't consume, Fellnian," Gronian said lazily.
"At least it was still more useful than you," Fellnian shot back.
"Just chatter away whatever you want."
"Enough, both of you!"
The voice came from the robed figure who had been guiding Merry and Aleeora from the beginning.
"We have just received a guest," his heavy voice boomed, forcing the two to fall silent at once. "Is this how you welcome a guest?" he continued.
Gronian showed no interest, remaining in the same position as before. Fellnian returned his attention to the crystal ball, observing quietly.
"M-Ma'am…" Aleeora whispered.
From that single word alone, Merry knew—the little girl was terrified.
"It's alright, little one. Everything will be fine," Merry said softly, gently stroking Aleeora's hair to calm her.
"What kind of trash did you bring this time, Fyodor?" Gronian asked, letting out a heavy sigh.
"I found something interesting," the robed figure—Fyodor—turned around, revealing them to the others.
Fellnian suddenly realized something. The old woman looked familiar to him. Moments later, he chuckled.
"Isn't she that person from before?"
"What do you mean?" Gronian asked, confused.
"You don't know?" Fellnian laughed quietly while looking at Gronian. "She's the corpse I resurrected back then."
"I didn't expect that brat to still keep his promise to my pet," Fellnian continued.
"I stopped paying attention after a while, but it seems Duriel kept being fed by that child." He laughed loudly. "That brat believed the old woman's soul would return. I only made up that story because I was busy and didn't have time to take care of Duriel."
"You did something that reckless just to feed your pet?" Gronian sighed heavily, glancing at Fellnian. "Good thing that beast is dead now. Otherwise, who knows what would've happened if the chains restraining it were ever broken."
Fellnian's expression darkened as he glared sharply at Gronian.
"Didn't I tell you to watch your words?" With a snap of his fingers, the crystal ball transformed into a sharp blade. "Shall I shatter that ugly skull of yours?"
Gronian scoffed. "Try it, if you can."
"You bastard—"
"I said that's enough, both of you!"
A violent gust of wind swept through the hall, silencing them instantly.
Fyodor turned toward Merry and Aleeora, placing his right hand on his chest and bowing slightly.
"My apologies for their behavior, madam," he said with a faint smile—barely visible.
"So, what do you intend to do with your 'cargo'?" Gronian asked again, still probing Fyodor's motives.
"There is something very familiar about this," Fyodor said as he walked slowly, stopping beside Merry, who held Aleeora protectively and eyed him warily. "Don't you feel something from this little girl?"
Fellnian and Gronian fell silent, examining the situation. A few seconds later, their eyes widened in realization.
"That's impossible, right?"
"Hey, don't tell me—"
They spoke at the same time, prompting Fyodor to chuckle.
"That's right. This little girl is Zhypon—something deeply familiar to us from two thousand years ago."
Upon hearing that, Merry's eyes widened as she looked at Aleeora in disbelief. If what they said about Zhypon was true, then there was no doubt—this was a crucial part of the ancient prophecy.
Merry brushed aside Aleeora's bangs, gently caressing her cheek with a warm smile, as if reassuring her that everything was fine.
Fellnian snorted and chuckled. "Interesting. Where did you find her?"
"I found them when Duriel was rampaging at the dimensional gate," Fyodor replied, snapping his fingers. "Now I'm truly curious."
The snap caused the ground to tremble violently. Something massive began to emerge from beneath the earth—rising higher and higher.
Fyodor raised both hands, smiling widely as the flames around his skull burned even brighter. He began to laugh loudly.
A giant hand appeared, followed by the rest of its body—dirty and scarred with ancient marks.
It was a statue.
A colossal statue of a woman, both hands raised as if in prayer. Her eyes were covered by a carved blindfold.
"That madman is at it again," Gronian muttered, resting his face on his hand.
"This might be an interesting spectacle," Fellnian said as he rose from his seat, hopping lightly.
"There's no harm in peeking into the past, is there?" Fyodor smiled faintly as he turned and walked toward Merry and Aleeora.
"Don't come any closer!" Merry stepped back, shielding Aleeora as Fyodor reached out.
Fyodor let out a heavy sigh and snapped his fingers again. Iron chains burst from the ground, binding Merry's arms and forcing Aleeora to fall from her embrace.
"Miss!" Merry struggled violently. "Please, don't hurt the child!"
Fyodor raised his hand. A red, glowing force formed around Aleeora's neck, lifting her into the air by an invisible grip.
"It… hurts…" Aleeora whispered, her voice choked as her neck was constricted.
Merry refused to give up, thrashing against the chains.
"I beg you—release the child. If you need a sacrifice, then take me instead!"
Fyodor ignored her pleas and continued his actions. At the same time, the statue began to glow, strange and abstract symbols appearing across its surface.
Merry stared in disbelief. No matter how hard she struggled, it was useless—she simply did not have the strength.
Fyodor began to float—and so did Aleeora moving closer to the statue. The strange symbols spread across the statue's body, eventually covering even the blindfold over its eyes.
Fyodor guided Aleeora toward the statue's raised hands and placed her there.
Though Aleeora struggled, the pain around her neck overwhelmed her, leaving her weak and helpless.
A brilliant light erupted from the ground, enveloping the entire statue. The abstract symbols spun rapidly, circling it.
Fyodor's eyes widened in shock as blood began to flow from the statue—from behind its blindfold.
Merry's whole body trembled instantly, she witnessed something that left her speechless, and seeing a little girl who was about to be used as a ritual material, made her more and more I want to break free from these chains.
"This is fascinating… It seems you're seeing something truly interesting, aren't you, Ellenian?" Fyodor grinned wickedly. Staring straight at the statue.
Fellnian and Gronian were equally stunned. They had not expected the statue to reveal something so rare.
The longer Aleeora remained in the statue's palms, the stranger the phenomenon became.
The statue's mouth opened wide, followed by a deafening, piercing scream that filled the entire space.
Merry, hearing the shrill cry, tried desperately to block the sound. Her eardrums felt as though they were about to burst.
"Old man…" Tears streamed down the girl's face.
"Please… help me."