Chapter 132 2: Dungeon Of The Dead
Vincent stepped forward, his body filled with anticipation as the throbbing pain faded; however, the constant calling and beckoning him didn't.
"What a dark and eerie dungeon." He said, the deep voice echoing along the walls of the narrow passage.
'I hope there are no dangerous monsters, Master. Please use me to your heart's desire!' Raizel chirped.
"This is no church... It is a tomb!"
The walls were decrepit and rotten, filled with weathered carvings and paintings of forgotten gods and beliefs. Thanks to the dungeons, most people began to forsake religion people put their faith in saints, kings, queens and people lifted above others instead of gods.
A black carpet with faded gold patterns squelched under his steps, filled with the remains of blood and moisture that dripped from the ceiling; Vincent looked around and couldn't find the source of his foreboding feeling, so he continued forward.
'Strange, there should be creatures here normally; what's happening?' Raizel spoke to herself, noticing the remains and corpses along the sides and floor around this narrow path.
Vincent felt the constant dripping of water start to interrupt his focus, drip, drop, like a melody to charm the entrant. His eyes slowly looked up, a low ceiling filled with cobwebs and only a little above his head.
Stagnating, a corpse was crushed against the ceiling and began to dribble blood down, causing the noise that allured him. "Hmph, why am I so uneasy? It's just a dead body!"
He strolled carefully with his eyes scanning the room; Vincent tried to understand what the voice wanted and why it called him. 'Could it be related to the daemons?' He thought to himself as he came to an exit from the narrow passage.
It opened into a large round room, stone pews, and large pillars half rotten with stone chunks missing and strewn around it. He could see an altar in the centre of the room rising into the air above several steps covered with what might have been an expensive red carpet, yet now was a dark red tattered mess.
Although in the middle of the dungeon, he began to reflect on the past few hours, that strange vision asking himself questions, 'Who am I? How was I born... What are the Daemons and that woman? Is she a goddess?'
Scanning the room, he noticed this place didn't have any monsters; it was like a lifeless dungeon, and even these corpses couldn't show any information. Usually, the undead couldn't hide and could still be identified with magic, yet his identity spell showed nothing.
- Old Corpse
'Heh, it's just a bunch of old corpses...'
'Master, don't get careless. This could be a ruse or some special dungeon...'
"Ah, don't worry; thanks for the reminder."
Vincent moved to the centre of the room with slow steps; he didn't want to trip or miss something vital because he rushed through the dungeon and got attacked from behind.
A large silver throne remained just a few steps from the altar, seeming to be the place where someone important would sit. 'A dungeon master? Or floor boss... I am not sure.' To begin with, this dungeon didn't indicate how many floors and could quite possibly be a single floor that consists of the grand cathedral that once stood here.
"It's strange..."
'It's bizarre...'
'Why is that corpse still in tact?'
"Ah, maybe this is a bingo?"
Raizel and Vincent conversed together, their words and ideas identical; sitting on the silver throne was a corpse yet to decompose fully, an old face with tattered grey hair and a wand and strange black book in his hands.
An eerie feeling spread through his body and the surrounding area as he focused on this corpse-like something else began to whisper to him. Not the beckoning grudge but something sinister which felt great resentment towards him.
"I don't like this feeling; something's going to happen!" Vincent said, his body lowered and began to fill with flames as he focused on himself. 'Imagine the flames envelop the body, coat the weapon. I shall become fire itself.'
He chose to repeat these words, increasing his image of a robe and cape of flames; slowly, a clothing of blazing purple fire protected his muscular daemon body as two swirling purple flames swirled around his horns.
Vincent almost forgot he entered his wrath form because the draining sensation no longer appeared and allowed him to remain like this forever if needed. 'I think it would be hard to have sex all day in this form, though...'
'Master... Focus, something is coming!'
The dark energy began to increase and spread through the room before a slight torrent formed, whirling around it and filling all the corpses with its dark, evil power.
"You who disturbs our resting grounds!"
"Desecrates our holy place with evil!"
"I shall judge your crimes!"
"For the Goddess!"
A burst of black wind slammed in all directions from the altar as the slow and drawn-out voice sounded from the corpse who sat upon the throne, now with two blue lights glowing from its eye sockets; the cracking of bones said as the corpse began to grasp the throne, pulling itself up into a standing posture, now staring at Vincent.
"Oh, a great sinner! How profane is thy existence? You were born from sin; live by sin. A cursed existence of destruction! Goddess, thy enemy has been found!'
Like a tornado, the black wind spun around the room, destroying the remains of the pillars, pews and various books and things left around.
Countless snapping bones sounded as many of the corpses began to move slowly, their legs cracked into place, old rusted swords, broken bent shields.
Vincent couldn't believe his eyes! He was sure he had checked every one of these bodies, and they were just normal corpses before! 'That energy!? It came from the book!'
"So that's it!"
Instantly, after he realised the source, his body lowered, ready to pounce like a snake, pulling back the spear as the blade gleamed beside his face; most of the corpses were almost recreated; however, the priest on the throne was still not whole as he had no legs yet.
A swirl of flames began to rotate around the tip of the spear while Vincent's legs tensed and began to crack the stone ground and incinerate the carpet from his high temperature, his breath so hot it formed a little steam upon touching the cold air.
Raizel's blade gleamed a bright red from the heat and her desire to fight. Although she could take human form, her greatest pleasure was in the hands of Vincent since that day; whenever he wielded her, she felt a sexual delight during battle, how he swung, tightly gripped and brutally lunged with her.
'Raizel, are you willing to dance with me again, my captivating partner?'
'I would go to the end with you, throwing away my goddess status to remain your weapon!'
"Heh!"
Vincent's body shot forward, his muscles releasing their condensed power. His body was so fast; he travelled several metres in an instant, the fierce wind pressure almost cutting his flesh like sharp blades. His spear wrapped under his arm, steady and filled with force like a lance ready to penetrate the black book, and it glowed with a black light.