The oppressive silence thickened, broken only by the ragged sound of their own breathing. Hidden in the shadows of the twisted trees, Lucaâs knuckles whitened around his sabers. His eyes flicked toward Aurelia, whose violet gaze shimmered with fury, but beneath that fire a rare uncertainty lingered.
"Did... he discover us? And what do they mean by sacrifice?" she whispered, her grip tightening around her spear.
Lucaâs jaw clenched, his expression grave. His eyes stayed locked on the cloaked figure. "I donât know... but it seems that... weâve been baited to come here." His voice was low, steady, but a cold weight pressed into his chest.
The screeching, ugly voice cut through the still afternoon again.
"If you donât come out..."
Luca and Aurelia exchanged one sharp nod. No more hesitation. In a blur of movement, they burst out of hidingâsabers flashing with a golden glint in the sunlight, Aureliaâs spear humming with sharp intent.
The nearest cultist didnât even have time to scream before Lucaâs twin blades crossed at his neck, sending him sprawling to the dirt. Aurelia spun gracefully, her spear thrusting into anotherâs gut and flinging him back into his companions.
"JIiiieeehh!" another cultist shrieked as Lucaâs boot slammed into his chest, knocking him unconscious.
The two of them fought like a storm, swift and merciless, cutting down the first wave of foes before the cultists could even rally. For a moment, the battlefield was theirsâtwo against many, yet the cultists fell like straw before sharpened steel.
But thenâ
Boom.
A crushing pressure descended. It wasnât physicalâyet it was heavier than iron. Luca staggered, his sabers trembling in his grip. Aureliaâs eyes widened, her body instinctively freezing mid-motion, as if invisible chains wrapped around her limbs.
The cloaked figure hadnât moved an inch, and yet his mere presence bent the air. His aura seeped like black smoke, crawling over the ground, coiling around Luca and Aurelia like a serpent.
"Tchâ" Luca gritted his teeth, forcing his knees not to buckle.
Aurelia bit her lip until it bled, anger flashing in her eyes, but even she could feel the helplessness clawing at her bones.
All around them, shadows stirredâone after another, cultists emerged from the darkness. Not just a handful. Twenty... thirty... their twisted grins and gleaming eyes surrounding them from every angle.
Lucaâs breath came heavy, his gaze darting between the enemies closing in. They had been outnumbered beforeâbut this was different. Now, the noose was tightening, and at its center loomed the cloaked figure, still standing tall, still faceless, a black phantom of malice.
The oppressive voice hissed once more, reverberating inside their skulls:
"Welcome... brave fools. Tonight, you join the sacrifice."
Grinding his teeth, Luca forced his voice out. "How did you find us?" His eyes darted between them, searching for an opening, even as his thoughts echoed in his skull. Calm down. Calm down.
But it wasnât the cloaked figure who answered. From the left, one of the very cultists they had tracked burst into that hideous laughter.
"Ji-ji-ji-ji-ji-jiee! We already knew from the moment you entered this gorge, jiee-je-je! Not only you, but many othersâfools like you who came seeking what we are diggingâended up as sacrifices for our Lord! Ji-jii-jieeei!"
At once, the other cultists raised their hands, voices merging in a grotesque chant that rattled the gorge:
"Blood for the Emperor, flesh for the Emperor, soul for the Emperor!
Blood for the Emperor, flesh for the Emperor, soul for the Emperor!"
The words pounded against Lucaâs skull like war drums. He exchanged a grim glance with Aurelia, both of them stiffening under the revelation.
Fuck. Many others were baited already. What actually is going on here then? What is it they want... sacrificing people?
Lucaâs voice cut out again, edged with steel. "Why the need to bait? You could have just abducted some innocent commoners instead of going through all this hassle."
The same cultist let out another jagged laugh, saliva glistening at the corner of his mouth.
"Ji-jiejiejie! How could commoners suffice? Their blood is weak, their souls worthless! We need strong blood force to dig thatâ"
"Enough."
The screeching voice of the cloaked figure silenced the entire gorge in an instant. The chanting ceased like a flame snuffed out.
"Tie them up," the figure commanded coldly. "We will sacrifice them tonight."
The cultists roared again, restarting their unholy chant as ropes were drawn out. The afternoon sun bled faint light over the gorge walls, but the shadows crawling closer around Luca and Aurelia felt more like midnight.
Lucaâs whisper cut through the suffocating chant like a blade.
"Can you handle all of them alone... except for that cloaked figure?"
Aureliaâs brows furrowed, her spear trembling faintly in her grip. "What are you planning?"
"Can you?" His tone sharpened, eyes still locked on the cloaked figure whose oppressive aura weighed down on them.
She inhaled sharply, chest rising and falling. "It wonât be easy, but... sure, I can." Then her eyes widened as the realization struck. "Youâre notâLuca, youâre not planning to take him on alone, are you? He is in the spatial expansion stage!!"
Lucaâs jaw tightened, teeth gritted, yet his expression never wavered. "Itâs not like I havenât slain one before. Just trust me."
And before she could protest, he was already goneâdashing forward with lethal intent, twin sabers flashing like moonlight.
Aureliaâs heart twisted, but her body moved before her hesitation could root her. She pivoted, crimson hair whipping like fire in the wind as she charged into the swarm of cultists. Her spear lunged forward, skewering the first robed man who dared step into her path.
The chanting broke into chaotic shrieks.
With a sharp pull, she wrenched her spear free and spun, the polished steel tracing a vicious arc that carved two more cultists down in a spray of blood.
Her crimson eyes burned. Each thrust was precise, each sweep merciless. Yet the overwhelming numbers pressed against her like a rising tide.
"Kill her!"
They came from all directionsâdaggers flashing, curses spilling from their lips. Aurelia ducked beneath a wild slash, driving her spear upward through a chest, only for another cultist to slam into her side. The impact rattled her ribs, sending pain shooting across her body.
She staggered but did not fall. Gritting her teeth, Aurelia twisted, ripping her weapon through flesh before spinning with a flourish, the spearâs shaft cracking across another enemyâs jaw.
Blood sprayed her cheek. Sweat trickled down her temple.
Still, she movedârelentless, a whirlwind of scarlet hair and spear strikes. But for every cultist that fell, more closed in, blades nicking her arms, tearing fabric, drawing crimson lines across her pale skin.
Her breaths grew heavy, her movements slightly sluggish. The push and pull of the fight forced her into a deadly rhythmâadvance, strike, bleed, endure.
She could hear Lucaâs sabers clashing in the distance, his own battle with the cloaked figure raging like a storm.
But Aurelia refused to falter. With one last spin, her spear cleaved through three cultists at once, her body dripping with both sweat and blood.
Her crimson hair, disheveled and wild, caught the sunlightâlike a banner of war, fierce and unyielding.
Still surrounded. Still bleeding. But her eyes gleamed with that same unshakable fire.
Aureliaâs battle cries echoing against the gorge walls. Each strike of her spear tore through flesh and cloth, but each slash she received in return carved deeper exhaustion into her movements. Her crimson hair, matted with sweat and streaked with blood, lashed in the air.
Lucaâs gaze flickered toward her for the briefest heartbeat, then hardened again as he turned to the cloaked figure standing before him. His hands tightened around the hilts of his white and black sabers, their edges trembling faintly with restrained mana. His breaths came rough and heavy, sweat trailing down his jawline.
He is strong.
The cloaked figure tilted his head, voice shrill and rasping, like metal scraping on stone.
"Why waste the effort?"
A smirk tugged at the corner of Lucaâs lips, sharp and defiant.
"Canât you see? Your comrades are getting slaughtered."
The figure gave a dry, hollow laugh. "Hmph. Who cares about this trash? Ten die, and we can raise a hundred more."
Luca lunged forward, sabers flashing, the strike carrying both speed and fury. The figure didnât even bother drawing a weaponâhe deflected it with a simple swing of his arm, a shockwave bursting out that forced Luca back ten meters.
Boots skidding against the stone floor, Luca steadied himself, chest rising and falling heavily. His crimson eyes narrowed, thought racing.
Hmph, as expected. They donât even care about their own....I just have to catch him off guard. One strike. A single strike to end it.
The figure straightened, cloak rippling as if alive. His voice sliced through the air, cold and final.
"Enough with the chit-chat."