Chapter 7

A malevolent presence, which devoured souls with a ravenous delight, relentlessly pursued Ezio. There was no visible figure, no echoing footsteps to be heard, yet an overwhelming sense of impending doom coursed through his veins, urging him to flee with every ounce of his being. The specter of death loomed, inching closer with each passing moment. Every turn he took seemed to draw the inexplicable sensation nearer, tightening its suffocating grip around his terrified heart. Though Ezio had spent his entire life training in the shadows, finding solace within the comforting embrace of darkness, it now felt alien and hostile. The very essence that once provided sanctuary had transformed into an eerie abyss, pregnant with unimaginable horrors.

Suddenly, Ezio stumbled forward, tripping over an object on the floor. As he looked down, he discovered that he had stumbled upon a decapitated goblin's head. Looking closer he recognizes the head of the goblin warrior he had just killed not that long ago. Dread filled his heart as he realized he had unknowingly circled back to the same wretched spot he had previously fled from. A pallor washed over Ezio's face, and an overwhelming fear gripped his core, causing him to retch violently, expelling the contents of his gut.

Then a laugh pierced the night, reverberating through the darkness in the cave. Ezio surrounded by the chilling echoes of laughter, a symphony of madness filled the air, sending shivers down Ezio's spine. The laughter taunted him, reminding him of his imminent demise. It penetrated his mind, like a haunting melody playing on his deepest fears and insecurities.

"Where do you think you're going, little lamb?" a sinister voice jeered, its words laced with sadistic pleasure. "Are you going to start running again?"

"There is no escape from the insatiable hunger that consumes me. Your cursed soul shall become my feast."

"I have no intention of becoming your meal," Ezio croaks, turning around while his hand reaches for the hidden weapons concealed underneath his cloak, a desperate glimmer in his eyes. His eyes trying to find the monster that had spoken to him. Searching the shadows of the creaks and services in the cave. Squinting his eyes, finally he saw a pair of red eyes staring at him from the ceiling, with a burst of determination, he picks himself up, his heart pounding, and kicks the ground, propelling himself forward in a race against the impending terror.

"Ah, another round of chasing," the entity hisses, its voice dripping with a sinister tone that sends shivers down Ezio's spine. "You underestimate my powers, foolish mortal."

In a daring move, Ezio abruptly spins around, his body trembling with fear and adrenaline, and hurls countless needles in a fan-like manner toward the relentless entity. Each needle finds its mark, sinking deep into the figure's form. A chilling laughter echoes through the air as the demonic voice taunts Ezio.

"Hahaha, what are these?" the voice jeers. "Although your cursed souls smell of immense power, your skills do not do them justice. You simply cannot hope to stop me with such feeble attempts."

To Ezio's horror, the dark entity retaliates, its wrath intensifying. With a swift motion, it lunges forward, taking the needles that had pierced him and throwing them back at Ezio with an amplified force, threatening to pierce through his very being.

The needles struck Ezio with such lightning speed and brutal force that he felt his very flesh had been impaled. Both his arms were torn to pieces and fell to the ground, and a gaping, sinister hole marred his stomach. Though the needles themselves were minuscule, nearly imperceptible, the demon's malevolent strength inflicted grave wounds upon the assassin. Blood spurted from Ezio's mouth as he gasped desperately, his voice laced with terror, "Spare me! I beg of you! I shall be your loyal servant, forever addressing you as my lord!"

The dark figure fixated its gaze upon Ezio, a twisted smile forming on its lips. The air grew heavy with an overwhelming sense of dread and terror. "Continue to cower in fear" it hissed, its voice dripping with venomous malice.

Slowly the figure emerges from the suffocating shadows, Ezio could make out the visage of a hauntingly handsome face, marred only by the fiery crimson eyes that held a malevolent power capable of enslaving anyone who dared to meet their gaze. Swathed in a billowing robe that seemed to possess a life of its own, the figure's silhouette was completed by the presence of a menacing obsidian sword hanging ominously from its waist.

"Do you truly believe that surrendering to me will grant you salvation?" hissed the sinister voice. "Behold, for I am the demon king, risen again from the depths of darkness, reborn from the very ashes of your despair."

The words that escaped the lips of the demon king Astaroth slithered through the air, sending shivers down Ezio's spine. Each syllable dripped with a perverse delight as if the demon relished in the impending horror that awaited. "Your feeble servitude holds no meaning. The cursed power that festers within your very soul shall be mine, whether you offer it willingly or not."

Ezio's cries fell on deaf ears as Astaroth's cold hand descended upon him, a menacing presence hovering above. A sinister grin played on the demon's lips as he chanted an ancient incantation, summoning dark energies. With a sudden surge, Astaroth forcefully extracted Ezio's soul, a radiant blue wisp entangled in a web of maleficent curses. The soul came out of his mouth without any resistance. Thick, obsidian chains ensnared was tied around the soul, ensnaring it completely from head to toe, sealing its fate in eternal torment. These chains were from the curse of the first king of Yosnad.

Ezio collapsed to the floor into his pool of blood, his body limping like a marionette with severed strings, his vacant eyes staring into nothingness, and drool oozing from his mouth. Astaroth drank in the horrifying sight, relishing the terror he had inflicted. He clutched the cursed soul tightly in his hand, recognizing the familiar spell that had been cast upon it—a sinister act he had once performed in his previous life on a pitiful demon. This curse stripped away the freedom of one's will, binding not only the cursed individual but also future generations to servitude.

With only strength from his arms, Astaroth pulls apart the obsidian chain that ensnared the tormented soul. With a loud snap, the chain broke into many pieces, fell, and disappeared into the ground. A malicious grin spread across his face as he prepared to consume the soul, relishing its power with an insatiable hunger. The air grew heavy with an aura of suspense and horror as he opened his mouth wide and consume the essence of the damned soul.

As the shadows deepened around him, the demon king slowly parted his grotesque lips, revealing rows of jagged, razor-sharp teeth. A sinister smile curled on his face as he unleashed a bone-chilling, guttural growl. With unnerving anticipation, he widened his jaws impossibly wide, creating a horrifying void that seemed to defy all reason. And then, in one swift, nightmarish motion, he devoured the soul whole, plunging it into a darkness from which there was no escape.

Soon after, Astaroth felt the soul wriggle around in his stomach as if seeking a specific spot where his demon core lies. He sensed the power of the soul intertwining with his demonic essence. Demonic energy surged, filling up his almost empty mana tank and strengthening his demon core. As the soul gets fully absorbed by him, Astaroth's physical body, also underwent a recovery. The wounds on his body that were healed partially by the sword miasma are now recovering at a faster rate and his magic power began to recover with an intensity. Astaroth was both fascinated and unnerved by the soul's purity, which defied all expectations. It should have been tormented by the curse, yet, after its lifting, its power output had tripled.

The demon king was pleased with the soul he had found; he hadn't expected his recovery to be so quick. However, as he reflected on his swift recovery, he realized that the circumstances were far too convenient as if carefully orchestrated by an unseen force. A surge of anger surged through him, intensifying the sinister aura that enveloped him.

"Well, I don't care right now about who or what is attempting to manipulate me," Astaroth growled, his voice laced with a sinister edge. "But beware, for when I regain my full strength, I shall hunt you down and extract a price for your audacious trespass."

"What unseen puppet master dares to toy with me?" Astaroth growled, his voice dripping with malice. "Your machinations will not go unnoticed or unpunished. I shall unravel your deceit and unleash a torment upon you that will make you beg for mercy."

"But for now, as my magic steadily returns. I sense another source of power, there is another one that is lurking deep within this cave," he whispered, turning away from the corpse on the ground and he walk deeper toward the direction of the goblin king's nest. The assassin, whom the king had trusted, failed to fulfill his mission. In his final moments, he could never have imagined that his long lineage would meet such a gruesome end.