Perished City

When he was finished, he killed her and turned back again, his eyes now a bottomless pit of hunger, seeking out the next soul to devour. Lady Eilif lay lifeless on the cold marble floor, a macabre doll in the moonlit room. The Baron's transformation had left no room for mercy, no semblance of humanity in his gaze. The Hollow's form hovered over her, a creature of shadow and decay.

„That's enough! Leave again." A voice echoed in Hollow's head, it was the baron wanting his body back.

The Hollow looked down at Lady Eilif with a sneer, but as the voice grew stronger, he retreated back into the depths of the Baron's mind, allowing the human to regain control. Virgil Solis looked at the destruction in the room, at the shredded corpse of Lady Eilif, and felt a strange mix of satisfaction and disgust. He wiped the blood from his mouth with the back of his hand, his eyes returning to their crimson color.

"I will gladly say it again... Your fetish is disgusting!" He said with a hint of contempt.

....

Emerging from the sewers, Aldwyn was met with a sight that sent a shiver down his spine. The crimson moon, once a beacon of power and dread, now hung in the sky as if weeping, its light casting a river of tears that painted the city streets in an eerie glow.

He scanned the rooftops for the highest vantage point, his silver eyes piercing the gloom as he scaled a nearby building with the grace of a cat. Each step was silent, his boots kissing the damp stone without a sound.

The once bustling city of Helgarde now lay eerily still, a tomb of shadows and whispers. The cobblestone streets were empty, save for the occasional flicker of movement in the alleyways. The stench of fear and decay lingered in the air, a testament to the horrors that had been unleashed upon the city. The buildings stood tall and proud, their ivy-covered facades now stained with the crimson moon's tears. The silence was so profound that even the caws of distant crows were muffled by the heaviness of dread.

Some creatures still roamed the desolate streets, but they were few and far between. The once-terrifying hordes had been thinned, their numbers depleted by the relentless battles. The surviving demons and twisted humans were like lost children.

„I wonder how the others are doing? Have they survived this chaos?" He thought about it as he jumped over the rooftops.

Aldwyn's journey to the church was a silent one, his steps echoing in the emptiness like a funeral procession. The grand edifice of the cathedral loomed before him, its spires reaching up to the weeping moon as if begging for salvation. The stained-glass windows were shattered, their colorful shards littering the ground like discarded jewels. The grandeur of the place was marred by the carnage that had occurred within its walls, a stark contrast to the peace it was meant to embody.

When he reached the courtyard, the scene was grisly. Dead creatures lay scattered everywhere, their twisted forms a grotesque tapestry. Some were mere husks, drained of life and left to decay under the moon's crimson gaze. Others were more recognizable, their once-human features now distorted into a macabre dance of madness and pain.

„Did Master Sewell do that?"

As Aldwyn pushed the heavy cathedral doors open, the hinges creaked like a mournful dirge. The sanctity of the space had been defiled, the holy symbols and artifacts desecrated. The air was thick with the scent of incense and the coppery tang of fresh blood.

In the center of the transept, he found Master Sewell. The warrior lay slumped against the wall, his armor torn and his body bruised. His eyes, once vibrant with life and wisdom, were now sunken with exhaustion, but they flickered with the last embers of his fiery spirit. The crimson moon's light filtered through the shattered windows, casting an otherworldly hue over his weary form.

"Aldwyn," he rasped, his voice barely a whisper. "You've arrived."

Aldwyn rushed to his side, "Master Sewell, are you alright?"

Sewell coughed, his chest heaving with the effort. "I will live," he grunted, "but time is of the essence."

Aldwyn's gaze searched the room, looking for any sign of the High Confessor. The cathedral was a maze of shadows and flickering candlelight. "Where is Elian?" he demanded.

At that moment a scream pierced the silence of the night, a wail so piercing it seemed to shake the very foundations of the cathedral. It was a sound that spoke of pain and despair, a cry that could only belong to a creature of unparalleled torment. The echoes of the scream reverberated through the empty streets, setting the remaining demons into a frenzy.

Master Sewell's eyes snapped open with a fierce determination. He leaned up with the last of his strength, his gaze locking onto Aldwyn's. "That was the honored High Confessor," he managed to whisper through clenched teeth. His eyes searched Aldwyn's face for understanding. "We must stop him," he urged, his voice barely audible above the cacophony outside.

Without a word, Aldwyn nodded in grim acknowledgment. The weight of the situation settled heavily upon him as he helped Sewell to his feet. The air in the cathedral grew thick with anticipation, as if the very stones were holding their breath in anticipation of the confrontation to come. The two of them moved swiftly through the desecrated halls, their footsteps echoing in the emptiness.

When they arrived outside, they saw a creature clinging to one of the academy's towers in the distance.

It was a large, humanoid creature with a height of about 3 meters. Its body was covered in a thick layer of black, shaggy fur and it had long, contorted limbs ending in sharp claws. The creature's face was deformed and had a split snout with a dark, shadowy substance oozing from it.

The creature's eyes locked onto them with an eerie focus. It let out a guttural roar, the ground beneath them trembled slightly with the force of it. The creature was clearly a powerful and malevolent being.

In a flash, it launched itself from the tower, the wind whipping its fur into a frenzied maelstrom as it descended.

The earth trembled as the creature's massive form crashed down, the impact creating a crater that swallowed the cobblestones whole. The air was thick with dust and debris, obscuring the monstrous outline as it landed mere feet from Aldwyn and Sewell. The ground vibrated beneath their boots, the very air itself seemed to shudder with the creature's rage.

Master Sewell, with a snarl of defiance, drew his sword. The steel blade sang as it cleaved the air, a beacon of hope in the crimson moon's light. His eyes were alight with the fiery determination.

Aldwyn mirrored his action, his twin blades glinting like silver serpents in the crimson glow. His emotionless face was a mask of concentration, his mind calculating the creature's next move.

....