Chapter 61 : Turning Point (2)
โAley, youโre glowing?โ exclaims Valentin, his eyes wide open.
โIโm glowing.โ
โYouโre glowing,โ adds Elvie, completely in parrot mode.
โMy eyes hurt...โ Alfira grumbles, turning her head away, half-blinded.
Thatโs when I realize itโs not stopping. The light keeps intensifying, and honestly, Iโm starting to freak out a little. Then, thankfully, it finally subsides.
Valentin doesnโt miss a beat. โSo, what was that, an ad for Christmas lights?โ
โWeโre going in. Now.โ I cut him off, clearly not in the mood for more jokes.
We move forward cautiously, heading toward the dungeonโs center. The air grows heavier, humid. The rock feels cold, almost oppressive. And this damn darkness... we can barely see.
We decide to advance into the dungeonโs central chamber. The air grows thicker, damper, almost sticky. The stone beneath our feet is icy, and the echo of our steps resounds. No embellishments here: just a raw, natural chamber where the darkness is so dense itโs almost tangible. Itโs sinister.
โGreat vibes,โ mutters Valentin. โYou think they considered adding chandeliers to warm up the atmosphere, or was that too much to ask?โ
I ignore him. Honestly, Iโm too focused. At the center of the room, where a gigantic and terrifying dragon is supposed to be, I only see a figure... and not at all the one we were expecting. A human. Frail. Small. No sign of a dragon anywhere.
โMen are born free, yet everywhere they are in chains,โ murmurs a deep and terrifying voice. It comes from this figure.
I frown. โYeah, so what? Who are you, Jean-Jacques Rousseau? Drop the dramatic intro and get to the point.โ
โDeath is nothing to us, who are born mortal, destined to die from birth. My mistress aims to repair humanityโs greatest weakness: to create a world of peace where we will no longer be the political animals we have always been,โ the voice continues, utterly impassive.
I say nothing, but honestly, this whole speech is already getting on my nerves.
We move closer, and finally, we can make out the figure better. The person is entirely shrouded in a long gray cloak, visibly in poor condition. The fabric is torn everywhere, trailing on the ground like an old rag. Not exactly impressive.
Then, without warning, the figure suddenly raises its right hand in a sharp, almost theatrical gesture. The cloak falls.
โAh!โ Valentin jumps. โWhat was that? A magicianโs entrance?โ
โLumos...โ he murmurs immediately, as if trying to conjure something.
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An immense light bursts to the ceiling of the cave, illuminating the entire room in an instant. This time, we can clearly see whoโs in the center.
A young girl. Blonde.
Not a kid, though. A woman, but with that youthful air that makes you hesitate between finding her adorable or creepy. Sheโs wearing a black military uniform, perfectly tailored. The skirt, a deep black, stops at her thighs, paired with dark boots trimmed with fur at the top.
โOh wow, itโs a fashion show now,โ mutters Valentin, half-amused, half-wary.
Her uniform is adorned with medalsโat least tenโthat glint in the light. Not trinkets, but war decorations. Unlike this worldโs medieval vibe, her outfit stands out completely. She looks like she stepped straight out of our time, like a corporal ready for battle.
Her jacket, white and fur-lined, rests casually on her shoulders. Sheโs not even wearing it properly. The kind of arrogant class that makes a statement.
Her face, though, is of icy beauty. Her piercing blue eyes are like blades, and her blonde hair falls in immaculate locks. In short, she looks more like a weapon of mass destruction than a human.
โI... I havenโt trembled this much since Elvaristria,โ I mutter under my breath, almost to myself.
Her weapon completes the picture. A lance. But not a regular lance. This one is entirely mechanical, a complex assembly of raw metal. It looks hastily cobbled together, with nails driven into it here and there, like someone fused a crossbow and a siege weapon into a single deadly tool.
โAnd here I thought my magic bat was stylish,โ sighs Valentin.
On her head, a corporalโs cap with a military insignia sits proudly. Diamond earrings complete this almost divine look.
She takes a step forward, and her voice rises, cold and calculating:
โSolfรจge Di Carnaris, member of the Ten Knights of Voltruite, in the direct service of Her Majesty Altruista Si Voltruite, second princess of the kingdom.โ
โOkay... so your nameโs Solfรจge,โ I say, clearly unimpressed despite the growing tension in the room. โAnd what do you want, Solfรจge?โ
โHer royal majesty desires an equal world, and for this, she requires the magical power of the gods. Yours.โ
I frown. โAnd what does she plan to do with this magical power, huh?โ
โShe will become the emissary of the stars, the one shining brighter than any star in the sky.โ
I let out a loud sigh. โYeah, great. We have no reason to agree, so scram with your stars.โ
โThis nonsense will not work on me.โ Solfรจgeโs voice is sharp, almost mechanical. โFor days, we have been watching you. You stray further from your goal, while the world is about to die at the hands of the Supreme Will of the World.โ
I frown, struck by her words. โThe world is about to perishโโ But before I can finish, in a flash, she disappears. A split second later, sheโs there. Right there. Her lance, cold and lethal, is pointed at my throat.
I step back a millimeter. No more. โYou... Youโre serious?!โ
Her gaze is fixed on me, devoid of emotion yet full of unwavering determination. Her piercing blue eyes cut through my soul as if I were already dead.
โI-Iโm a god. How did you move so fast without meโโ My brain races. What is this speed? Itโs not normal.
โGods,โ she begins calmly, โare prideful of their strength. They lounge. Make up stories. They live in an illusion... One where they believe they have nothing left to conquer, having already obtained everything. And in this illusion, they sink into endless despair.โ She presses the lance slightly, just enough to remind me sheโs in control. โBut we mortals... We become stronger than anyone in no time at all. Because such is our ultimate will: to survive.โ
Her voice is as icy as her gaze.
I grit my teeth. โI was mortal once, in case you forgot. You seem to know me well in Voltruite, by the way.โ
โYou are but a shadow of what you once were.โ She doesnโt back down an inch, her biting tone leaving no room for escape. โVoltruite, the land of forging and weapon craftsmanship... By whom do you think it was founded, you fool?โ
I swallow hard. Her lance doesnโt move a millimeter. โWhat do you mean?โ
โIt was founded by the disciples of Veron, the dwarven god. The god of the forge.โ She pauses, her gaze darkening even more. โIt is said he was savagely murdered by the god of hatred.โ