Chapter 35

The arrival of the Eight Goddesses brought forth a whirlwind of change. The once-familiar landscapes were imbued with an otherworldly essence. Radiant flowers blossomed in vibrant hues never before witnessed, and ancient forests whispered secrets only the goddesses could understand. Their every movement was accompanied by an orchestra of power as if nature itself bowed in reverence.

With each passing day, the goddesses' influence expanded. They erected grand temples, adorned with intricate carvings that depicted their triumphs. Pilgrims from far and wide journeyed to witness the divine presence, hoping to catch a glimpse of the enchantresses who reshaped the world.

A religion that was non-exitance before started to be preached across the land, the power of light was twisted to match the stories of the eight goddesses, and the power of dark was rewritten as the source of evil.

"I was born shortly after the devastating war, where the mighty goddesses clashed and extinguished the lives of two immensely powerful beings—one from the radiant realm of light, the other from the murky depths of darkness. As a child of the sinister forces, I became the hunted prey, relentlessly pursued by relentless warriors from the luminous realm, both by the light of day and the shrouded cloak of night."

The warriors of the light, with their gleaming armor and blazing swords, possessed an unwavering determination to eradicate any trace of darkness that lingered within the world. Their fervent pursuit pushed me to the edges of survival, constantly on the run, my every breath filled with fear and desperation.

But destiny had a different plan for me. In the depths of the enchanted forest, I stumbled upon a hidden sanctuary—the sanctuary of the forgotten shadows. There, amidst the gnarled trees and haunting whispers, I found solace and protection from those who sought my demise."

Astaroth finally stop talking, he had never shared this part of his life before, even when he rule the demon world before his demise.

"Astaroth, my master, finally ceased his tales of darkness. The weight of his words hung heavy in the air, revealing a vulnerability he had never shown. As his loyal servant, Lazarus, I had stood by his side through countless battles, but today, I truly understood the depths of his struggles." Lazarus who had been with his master Astaroth for a long time and hearing this today finally make him understand why his master had been fighting.

Lazarus heaved a heavy sigh in the imposing presence of his master, his eyes darting between his subordinates and the hushed servants surrounding them. They had just heard a revelation so astounding that not even in their wildest dreams could they have conceived it. The weight of this valuable information settled upon them, and Lazarus knew he must impress upon them the utmost importance of keeping it a secret. However, right now the most important thing is to address his lord's growing apprehension regarding the possible involvement of the enigmatic goddesses.

Lalitha on the other hand was fully immersed in the story, her imagination running wild trying to imagine how the old world was before the destruction of balance. She looks at her master the demon king Astaroth and asks, "My lord, you mention the old world being the only world but earlier you mentioned that Lazarus and my lord came from Eldoria which is different from this world Arcania."

"Yes, Lalitha," Astaroth began, his voice resonating with a sinister undertone. "This part of the story, I will let Lazarus continue. But Lazarus, go straight to the appearance of the hero, my demise, and your mysterious appearance here. Then, I will take it from there, revealing the dark secrets of the old world." As Astaroth reclined on his grand throne, the maid swiftly placed a cup of tea in his outstretched hand, as if anticipating his every desire. With a subtle nod, Astaroth signaled Lazarus to proceed. The vampire king, his eyes glinting with ancient knowledge, acknowledged his master's command.

With each carefully chosen word, Lazarus wove a mesmerizing tale of Eldoria, the world they once ruled with an iron grip. He spoke of Astaroth, the malevolent legacy that haunted all the living in Eldoria, commanding forty legions of demons to enforce his reign of terror. The atmosphere grew charged with anticipation as he revealed the birth of a valiant hero, destined to rise against the vile Astaroth and restore balance to the shattered realm. But hope turned to despair as Lazarus unraveled the tale of the treacherous elf queen, who betrayed them all, plunging Eldoria into darkness.

And then, with a chilling intensity, Lazarus recounted the climactic moment—the death of Astaroth himself. The battle was fierce, each blow reverberating through the very core of Eldoria. Flames danced and swords clashed in an epic struggle between good and evil, until finally, with a thunderous roar, Astaroth was vanquished.

Pausing for a moment, his eyes shimmering with ancient knowledge, Lazarus shifted the focus back to himself. He spoke of his enigmatic encounter with the gatekeeper after his death, and how he met the keeper of the sacred portal between worlds. The promise from the gatekeeper he would meet his master Astaroth again, thousands of years had passed since that fateful day, and Lazarus had yearned to lay eyes upon the gatekeeper once more, to unravel the mysteries of his existence.

And now, fate had finally granted him the long-awaited reunion with his master. The sheer weight of this moment filled Lazarus with a surge of indescribable joy. As the sun climbed higher into the sky, casting its golden rays upon the land, Lazarus's tale unfolded with an intensity that captivated Astaroth. The master listened intently, his eyes gleaming with excitement, while the hours slipped away unnoticed. By the time Lazarus finished recounting his part of the tale, the morning had faded into the late afternoon, and the room was enveloped in a warm, ethereal glow.

Astaroth raised his hand, the gesture commanding the attention of all. The tea that once filled his cup had been replaced, its steam swirling upwards like whispers of anticipation. "Let us pause here for now," he declared, his voice resonating with a mixture of profound wisdom and boundless energy. "It has been a remarkable day, and our dear Lalitha must find solace in rest, unlike you and me, Lazarus. Even your loyal subordinates seem weary, their eyes flickering with the remnants of a day well spent."

Lazarus nodded his head in agreement, his eyes filled with unwavering loyalty. "Yes, master, you are right," he affirmed. "Though the sorceress possesses extraordinary powers, her body remains human, and she too must succumb to earthly needs." With a sense of urgency, he added, "Allow me to summon the servants immediately and have them prepare a lavish feast for all. Our weary souls will find solace in a bountiful meal."

As the servants scurried to fulfill their tasks, Lazarus gently guided the sorceress to a chamber of respite. Soft, velvety curtains cascaded from the ceiling, creating an ambiance of tranquility and comfort. The air was infused with a delicate fragrance of lavender and jasmine, soothing their senses. The sorceress sank into the embrace of a plush armchair, her eyes closing as the weight of her immense powers temporarily lifted.

Meanwhile, alone in the dimly lit room, the Demon King sat upon his throne, his piercing eyes ablaze with a potent blend of ancient wisdom and unfathomable mystery. With an air of chilling authority, his voice reverberated through the chamber, sending shivers down the spine of any who dared to listen. "The games you dare play, gatekeeper," he declared, his words dripping with venomous resolve, "this time, I shall be prepared. You and your comrades shall face retribution. The eight of you shall pay the ultimate price for your heinous act of obliterating the cherished old world and ruthlessly snuffing out the life of Zephrael."

As he spoke, an ominous aura engulfed the room, its oppressive presence suffocating and tangibly rife with malevolence. Shadows danced menacingly, seemingly alive with dark energy. The Demon King's twisted smile twisted into a sinister grin, revealing sharp fangs that glinted wickedly in the low light.

In the room guided by Lazarus, Lalitha found herself overwhelmed by the weight of the information bestowed upon her. The very concept of multiple worlds, demon kings, and hordes of malevolent creatures sent a shiver down her spine. Her mind raced, attempting to process the unimaginable possibilities that lay before her.

Memories from her youth flooded back, as she recalled her mentor, a mysterious mage who had introduced her to the wonders of magic. He had often spoken of ancient texts and forbidden knowledge, hinting at the existence of interdimensional portals that could merge parallel realms, allowing the living and the dead to traverse between them. Lalitha had dismissed it as mere folklore at the time, believing it to be the fanciful ramblings of an eccentric wizard. Little did she know that those very tales were now becoming her reality.

With a twist of fate, Lalitha's life was now entwined with the fearsome Demon King. Although this fact alone would send shivers down the spine of any mortal, Lalitha couldn't help but feel an unexpected sense of tranquility in Astaroth's presence. Contrary to her expectations, he had shown her nothing but gentleness, his actions attuned to her every need. As she nestled her head into the plush pillow, seeking solace from her racing thoughts, fatigue washed over her, lulling her into a deep slumber.

In her dreams, Lalitha found herself standing in an ethereal realm, bathed in a soft, golden light. Whispers of mystic winds caressed her skin as she embarked on a mesmerizing journey through the labyrinth of her subconscious. Visions danced before her eyes, conjuring images of distant lands and grand adventures yet to unfold.