2025-08-08 23:08:48
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Chapter 156. The Phantom God.
The Crawl Beneath didn’t just get darker the deeper you went, it got… quieter. The kind of quiet that didn’t mean safety. It was the quiet of something listening.Rhok felt it in the shadows before he saw it, an odd warping ahead, like his own magic was bending toward a fixed point. He didn’t tell Sayo what he sensed, the boy had enough on his mind. He just kept walking, boots brushing the damp stone, weaving through narrowing tunnels until they widened again into a vast chamber.That’s when he noticed it.The light in the cavern didn’t behave like light should. It didn’t fade into darkness, it fractured, multiplying in strange ways. Every glint was sharper than it had a right to be, bouncing from one place to another.And then Rhok saw why.The cavern’s walls, the ceiling, even the floor, every inch was covered in mirrors. Not smooth, polished mirrors like a noble’s dressing room. These were warped, mismatched, and cracked in places. Some were perfect sheets of reflection, others lit
Chapter 155. The Severed Shrine.
The tunnels narrowed as Rhok followed behind Sayo. The stale air clung to his throat, tasting faintly of rust and something older, something that had been rotting long before either of them had been born. The Crawl Beneath was no ordinary prison passage, it was a graveyard that had been hidden long from the world.Their steps echoed in strange ways. Sometimes a sound would travel far ahead of them, bending around corners and coming back distorted, like someone whispering their own words back in mockery. Other times the air swallowed noise completely, leaving only the scrape of their boots and the faint drip of unseen water.Sayo walked with his head down, not because he feared getting lost, but because looking around too much down here could mess with your mind. You might see something you shouldn’t, things that weren’t fully human anymore.They passed one such figure. A man crouched, hidden in the shadows, skin stretched tight over bone, a pale arm fused with what looked like a jagge
Chapter 154. The Crawl Beneath.
The prison had gone quiet. That deep, heavy kind of quiet where even the air felt like it was holding its breath. The guards had done their last patrol for the hour, their boots fading into the distance until only the faint crackle of torches was left.Rhok leaned against the wall of his cell, his eyes half shut, letting the silence stretch. He could still feel the faint presence of Sayo, the boy with the too thin frame and eyes that looked older than his face should allow was sitting a few cells down to his right."You still there?" Rhok asked, his voice low.A moment passed. Then the boy replied, "Yeah."That still caught Rhok off guard. For someone who hadn’t spoken in years, Sayo didn’t stumble over his words or sound unsure. He spoke like the words had been waiting all that time, lined up neatly in his mind, ready to go."So," Rhok started, "tell me what else you know about this place. You’ve been here a while, right?"Sayo shifted, the sound of metal scraping stone as he moved.
Chapter 153. A Boy with No Name.
Rhok was already regretting eavesdropping on the guards.Sure, at first it had been interesting, hearing about the Triarchy and their flashy titles. Zoryel, Master of Frost. Emek, the Embercaller. Tuwan, Lord of Storms. Big scary names, lots of elemental chest thumping. But then, like all men with too much time on their hands, the guards’ conversation had taken a hard left into the most boring topic possible, how bad their wives were in bed.By the third complaint, Rhok had decided the only thing more dangerous than the Triarchy was marriage in Seroth.He sat there in his cell, back against the cold wall, staring at the shadows dancing along the floor. He had been left alone since morning with no food, no questions, no beatings. The guards didn’t even seem to care he was here. It felt less like imprisonment and more like someone had told them, "Don’t touch him, he'll bite you."Boredom hit him like a slow poison. He started letting his mind wander, not into thoughts, but into the fain
Chapter 152. The Three That Rule.
Rhok woke with a stretch so exaggerated you'd think he was trying to dislocate every joint in his body on purpose. He cracked his neck, rolled his shoulders, and sat up with a groggy sigh that sounded like someone who’d just woken up in a spring fountain and not, in fact, on the hard, stone slab of a prison cell in a foreign, magic-drenched city.He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and looked around.Still in the same cell.Still no chains.Still no interrogations.And most importantly, he had somehow not ended up dead.“Wow,” he muttered, reclining back with his hands behind his head. “Five stars. Would get arrested here again.”He had slept surprisingly well. The floor was somehow heated. The air was oddly crisp. And he wasn’t sure if it was the lingering divine residue in his veins or just the city’s weird architecture, but even the silence felt... comforting.Some guards passed by at one point, peeked in through the small barred slit in the door and then, weirdly, just walked away
Chapter 151. The Ink Judge.
The prison smelled like wet limestone and regret, a really sharp contrast to how the city looked and felt. The kind that soaked into your skin and stayed there. Rhok sat on the cold stone floor with his back against a wall slick from dripping moss. He could still taste the crust of that stolen bread. Dry, hard, but warm, worth the arrest, barely.Footsteps echoed down the corridor. Two guards with twisted metal spears walked with a robed figure gliding down the hallway like she didn’t touch the ground. Her robes were ink black, soaked in moving script that crawled across the fabric like living calligraphy. A mask covered her face, porcelain white, inked with a single black dot on the forehead and lines trailing down the cheeks like tears, her mask bore no eyes and no mouth.She didn’t speak or rather, she didn’t have to.The guards pulled Rhok to his feet and shoved him forward.They led him through a narrow passage carved into the stone, glowing faintly with blue moss. The hallway op
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