Rocky awoke to darkness. The air was damp and heavy, filled with the faint scent of sulfur and iron. His wrists and ankles burned—cold, tight chains dug into his skin, binding him to a stone wall. The echoes of the Dark Castle seemed to hum with malicious life, shadows crawling along the walls as if watching him.
He groaned, trying to sit up. His body ached from Lucifer's devastating strike, every muscle screaming in protest. His summons were gone—shattered or dispersed in the throne room—but the remnants of their bond still tingled faintly in his mind, a reminder of the power he had wielded… and lost.
"Ahhh… awake at last," came a voice, sultry and sharp, echoing through the dungeon. Rocky's head snapped toward the sound.
A figure stepped from the shadows. Risha, the demoness. Her eyes glowed a deep crimson, and horns curved from her forehead like obsidian blades. Wings of dark energy stretched behind her, brushing the stone walls with an ominous whisper.
"You survived Lucifer's little display," she said, voice teasing, almost musical. "Most summoners would have… expired. You, however, seem persistent."
Rocky struggled against the chains, testing their strength. "What… do you want from me?" he asked, voice hoarse but steady.
Risha circled him like a predator. Her claws traced the air, leaving faint streaks of fire. "Your power, of course. And perhaps… your spirit. I've heard much about the Legendary Summoner who commands dragons and quadrillions of slimes. Such potential is far too valuable to waste in the throne room."
Rocky's mind raced. Summon Boosts… slimes… dragons… he had to find a way out. But the chains were infused with dark magic, suppressing both his physical strength and his magical resonance. Even reaching out to his summons was impossible.
"Clever boy," Risha purred, stepping close. "I can feel it. Even chained, even weakened, your bond with your summons… it burns. That is what makes you… special. But here, my magic reigns supreme. Your little tricks will do nothing."
Rocky's heart pounded. He could hear Sylvia somewhere in the castle—he didn't know if she was still bound, or if Lucifer had moved her deeper into his fortress—but one thing was certain: he could not fail.
"Listen to me," Rocky said through gritted teeth, "I will get out of here. I will find Sylvia. And you… won't stop me."
Risha laughed, a low, echoing sound that made the chains rattle. "Bold. Brave. Stubborn. I like that. But for now… rest. Savor the darkness. It will be your companion longer than you think."
As she retreated, her wings brushing the dungeon walls, Rocky's eyes glimmered with determination. The chains were strong, the dungeon oppressive, and Risha's power immense—but he was Rocky, Legendary Summoner. And no demoness, no dark knight, no empire could extinguish what burned within him.
He took a deep breath, testing the limits of the magical chains. His mind reached outward, probing the faint resonance of his shattered summons. A spark of possibility ignited in his chest.
The dungeon was dark. The chains were cruel. But Rocky's heart… was alive.
And the storm was only beginning.