Chapter 29

King Borosik's heart skipped a beat, his pulse quickening at the unexpected intrusion. The mention of Lady Elizabeth, the powerful witch known for her dark enchantments, sent a chill coursing down his spine. What had brought her to his doorstep? The longing he once harbored for her now mingled with growing unease, for something felt deeply amiss amidst the looming war with the goblin horde. His carnal desires, which had consumed him before, were now drowned in a sea of apprehension.

With trembling hands, he motioned for the soldiers to grant Lady Elizabeth entry. The creaking of the chamber doors pierced the heavy silence, like the gates of a sinister realm opening to reveal a mysterious presence. As the witch stepped into the chamber, Borosik could sense the weight of her dark energy. King Borosik's gaze fixed upon her as she entered, his senses tingling with an unnerving blend of fascination and dread. Her hair, a cascade of snow-white strands, flowed like an ethereal river, amplifying her otherworldly beauty and ensnaring the king's attention in an enchanting spell.

The air seemed to thicken as Lady Elizabeth's piercing gaze locked onto the king. Her eyes, like bottomless pools of ancient knowledge, held an unsettling intensity. A faint smile played upon her lips, concealing her true intentions. King Borosik, torn between relief and uneasiness, realized that he should never have craved for her body.

"Your Majesty, it has been far too long since my last audience with you. I beg your forgiveness, as I was consumed by the creation of potent spells to aid our valiant knights. How fares Your Majesty?"

"I am fine but... Elizabeth, have news reached your ears? There are reports that our army has been shattered, decimated by an unknown force, presumably by the goblin king. But the goblin army has mysteriously vanished too. Since the last night, neither the general nor his fearless knights have graced us with their presence. I fear the worst had happened".

King Borosik confided in Elizabeth, the only person he truly trusted. The prime minister was consumed by the relentless demands of the ongoing war, meticulously coordinating resources and logistics for the army. Lalitha, (henceforth referred to as Lalitha) fixed her gaze upon the king, her eyes brimming with curiosity and concern. "My liege I am unaware of any recent developments. I have been secluded in my tower, engrossed in weaving intricate spells."

"I have an idea, your highness, do you want me to cast a divination to see where is the general? I may be a witch but there are some divination spells which I have learned from my master when I was a child."

King Borosik's face contorted into a deep frown as he reluctantly considered the suggestion of divination. Desperation clawed at his heart, leaving him with no other viable options. "I... I suppose I understand," he murmured, his voice laced with uncertainty. "Summon the divination, but remember, this must remain our secret. None shall hear of it beyond the confines of this room."

Lalitha, her eyes gleaming with a sinister glint, responded with a chilling assurance, her laughter echoing through the chamber like a haunting melody. "Rest assured, Your Majesty," she whispered, her voice dripping with eerie confidence. "No soul shall bear witness to the events unfolding today. Kekekeke."

"I require a drop of your blood, Your Highness," whispered Lalitha, her voice laced with an air of mystique. "My divination techniques differ from the ordinary practitioners. I can assure you that its accuracy surpasses all others." King Borosik's curiosity mingled with a hint of apprehension as he commanded, "Proceed, but only a single drop shall you take from me."

Lalitha nodded a wicked glint in her eyes. "Indeed, Your Majesty. Your blood, so precious and royal, deserves no wastage."

With measured precision, she drew a slender silver blade from her cloak, its polished surface reflecting from the candlelight. The room fell into an eerie silence as the blade hovered menacingly before the king's outstretched finger. The moment hung, heavy with anticipation, as Lalitha's hand quivered with restrained excitement.

Then, in one swift motion, the blade descended, piercing the tender flesh of Borosik's finger. A single, crimson droplet emerged, glistening in the gloom. Time seemed to halt as the drop hung precariously, a precious elixir that held secrets untold.

Lalitha's eyes widened with an unsettling fervor as she collected the drop in a tiny vial, carefully sealing it shut. "I shall begin my chanting, Your Highness. If you sense anything, or if you catch a glimpse of anything, do not succumb to fear. I am here, and I will remain in control of all that unfolds."

The room fell into an eerie silence as Lalitha's voice grew louder, resonating with otherworldly power. Shadows danced on the walls, their elongated forms flickering like malicious spirits. The air grew heavy, pregnant with an unknown presence.

Suddenly, a chilling wind swept through the chamber, extinguishing the flickering candles and leaving the room cloaked in darkness. The only sound was Lalitha's haunting chant, echoing off the walls like a siren's call.

As the chant reached its crescendo, a sense of foreboding filled the air. The vial in Lalitha's hand trembled, its contents seemingly restless, as if eager to reveal their secrets. Beads of perspiration formed on her forehead, glistening in the dim light that seeped through the cracks.

A low, guttural growl reverberated through the room, sending shivers down the spines of all present. The atmosphere crackled with malevolent energy, an invisible force that seemed to claw at their sanity. Shadows swirled and contorted, assuming grotesque shapes in the corner of their vision.

Lalitha's voice, now strained with both determination and fear, pierced through the darkness. Her words, laced with an ancient power, hung heavy in the air. Each syllable seemed to unlock hidden doors, unearthing secrets long forgotten.

Just as the tension reached its peak, a blinding flash of light erupted from the vial, casting an ethereal glow that consumed the room. Shapes and figures materialized before them, their distorted forms were both mesmerizing and terrifying.

At that moment, the veil between worlds was torn apart, and the unknown whispered its secrets. Lalitha, her eyes filled with awe, stood witness to the unimaginable. King Borosik, on the other hand, clenched his eyes shut tightly, his instincts warning him of the impending darkness lurking within.

What Lalitha had unleashed was not mere divination, but a sinister invocation of black magic. Her spell, fueled by the sacrificial blood of the king, acted as a malevolent conduit, beckoning forth the ancient wellspring of cursed sorcery that had plagued his lineage for generations.

As the air thickened with an otherworldly presence, shadows danced menacingly across the room. A chilling breeze swept through, carrying with it an ethereal whisper that sent shivers down their spines. Each whispered word dripped with the macabre secrets of forgotten realms and ancient malevolence.

"Wha… What happened… isn't the spell supposed to be a divination to find the general? Why has a portal appeared.?" King Borosik shouted.

Ignoring the king, Lalitha cautiously approached the gateway. Her hands trembled as she extended them towards the shimmering void, her fingers brushing against the intangible barrier that separated their world from the abhorrent unknown. The scent of incense and blood hung heavy in the air, intertwining with the acrid undertones of sinister forces at play.

"Speak, you fool! Why has a portal appeared?" King Borosik's voice dripped with anger and frustration, and his patience shattered. He felt a surge of betrayal coursing through his veins, convinced that the witch had played a treacherous game. In a furious stride, he closed the distance between them, his hand poised to seize Lalitha. But before he could even touch her, the tables turned in a horrifying twist.

Lalitha swiftly spun around, her eyes ablaze with sinister intent. With an unnatural strength that defied her delicate appearance, she lunged at the king, her grip tightening like a vice around his throat. The world seemed to freeze as Borosik's airway constricted, his struggles futile against her formidable power and his limbs thrashing about.

In a harrowing moment, the room quivered with an eerie energy. The portal, an otherworldly gateway, beckoned with its mysterious allure. As if possessed by a malevolent force, Lalitha forced the king's flailing body toward the swirling abyss. His screams echoed a desperate plea for salvation in the face of impending doom.

A wicked, malevolent laughter spilled from Lalitha's lips, echoing through the air like a haunting symphony of madness and triumph. "Kekekeke, you pitiful fool," she taunted, relishing in her sinister victory. Her eyes gleamed with a ravenous hunger for power, a thirst that could only be quenched by the stolen essence of the fallen king. She reveled in the knowledge that any curse, no matter how potent, would be transferred upon its host's demise. However, in the case of King Borosik, the power wasn't merely transferred—it was ruthlessly snatched away by Lalitha's wicked spell and the cold steel of her blade.

As King Borosik hurtled into the unfathomable depths of the portal, the world convulsed with the weight of his vanishing presence. The very fabric of reality quivered in trepidation as if recoiling from the void he left behind. The once grand and regal room now stood tainted, suffocated by an unsettling silence. The remnants of a fallen kingdom whispered with a ghostly breath, foretelling the imminent arrival of encroaching darkness. And there stood Lalitha, her malevolence heightened, now the possessor of the king's formidable power, a harbinger of an ominous reign yet to unfold.

The shadows danced, twisting and contorting in macabre delight, as Lalitha reveled in her newfound dominance. With each passing moment, her corrupted essence intertwined with the stolen power, morphing her into a vessel of unstoppable malevolence. The air grew heavy, pregnant with a foreboding energy that permeated the once-hallowed halls. Lalitha, now consumed by her insatiable thirst for supremacy, prepared to unleash an era of unparalleled darkness upon the world.