Relictombs

|Arthur|

"Silence!" I hissed, my voice slicing through the air with a commanding edge. Seris's mouth snapped shut, her pout quickly replaced by a grave expression as she understood the gravity of the situation. Within me, Regis rumbled, his presence resonating with heightened awareness. The gnawing ache in my stomach served as a constant reminder of the perilous trap I had unwittingly triggered. Seris and I moved with utmost stealth, our footsteps muffled by the cloak of my sound magic, as I focused my attention on channeling the power of the Destruction Godrune through Regis.

"Gauntlet Form," I communicated telepathically, and Regis responded by encasing my arm, imbuing it with the pulsating motes of vivum.

From the corner of my eye, I spotted one of the formidable beasts that had caused us so much trouble. It resembled a werewolf, an aetheric creature caught in a grotesque fusion of wolf and human features.

Despite its hunched posture, it towered over eight feet tall. Long, sinewy arms swung in a pendulum-like motion as it hungrily scanned its surroundings for prey.

Its matte grey skin pulsated with the rhythmic flow of aether, its nimble feet propelling it forward with deceptive swiftness. Despite its seemingly sluggish appearance, I knew better than to underestimate its power.

Far too powerful.

When Seris had volunteered to join us, replacing Caera despite the risks of Agrona discovering her involvement, I had anticipated her assistance would be beneficial. She had grown significantly stronger, that much was undeniable. However, in this fast-paced battle, her presence proved to be more of a hindrance.

It wasn't solely a matter of strength, but rather the abnormal speed at which the beast moved. Its reflexes bordered on the realm of the absolute, matched only by its blinding agility.

Its footwork mirrored that of Godstep, rendering it extremely challenging to land a decisive blow, even when employing both Godstep and the formidable Gauntlet Form granted by Regis.

With limited options at hand, I inched closer, my every movement meticulously calculated, akin to a predator closing in on its prey. Sensing the impending clash, my body dropped to the ground, limbs coiling like a tightly wound spring, muscles primed and pulsating with the harmonious convergence of mana and aether.

Once in position, I unleashed a flicker of aether, allowing it to expand and beckon the attention of the unsuspecting beast. It was drawn to the spot, its focus ensnared by the allure of the radiant aether, unaware of the imminent danger that lurked within.

I patiently awaited the opportune moment, poised like an expert archer, stringing the bow of fate, ready to release the arrow with precision timing.

"Now!" I bellowed through our telepathic connection, activating Godstep in a swift surge of power. Acceleration reached its apex as my form blurred into a mere streak, hurtling toward the aetheric werewolf.

Distracted and disoriented by the mesmerizing pull of the aether, the creature failed to perceive my lightning-fast advance. It whipped its head around, its snarl echoing through the air, but its reaction was too sluggish. In the fraction of a second, my clenched fist, enshrouded in the destructive energy of the Gauntlet Form, connected with its face, delivering a devastating blow that sent it hurtling away from its own body.

However, victory did not come without a price. The creature's razor-sharp claws managed to slice through my aetheric protective sheen, rending my flesh and leaving behind crimson trails of pain. Yet, thanks to my draconic self-regenerating body, the injury, though agonising, was inconsequential, little more than a fleeting discomfort amidst the heat of battle.

I clenched my teeth, enduring the searing pain as the regenerative capabilities of my new draconic body sprang into action, diligently reconstructing the ravaged tissue and swiftly healing my wounds. The surge of relief washed over me as the pain gradually subsided, replaced by a renewed sense of vitality.

"Arthur!" Seris called out, her voice laced with genuine concern, hastening towards me with swift, graceful strides. Her slender form was adorned with cascading strands of crystalline hair, reminiscent of delicate ivory threads that fell gracefully past her shoulders. Her complexion, pale as ivory itself, formed a striking contrast against her dark, enigmatic eyes. Despite her mature aura, her youthful countenance and petite stature belied her true age.

"I am fine, Seris," I reassured her, a faint smile playing on my lips. Though her worry was unwarranted, I appreciated her genuine concern.

Her delicate features softened, betraying a hint of guilt. "I'm sorry," she murmured, her voice tinged with remorse. "I thought I would be of more assistance, but instead, I find myself constantly in your way."

I regarded her with earnest eyes, my voice filled with sincerity. "Seris," I began, emphasizing each word, "Your presence alone is invaluable. Even in the depths of Relictombs, where your unique talents may not find immediate utility, your companionship provides solace. Besides, enduring Regis's company alone for extended periods of time would surely drive anyone to the brink of madness."

A gentle chuckle escaped her lips, a melody of mirth amid the lingering tension. "You have always possessed a sharp wit, Arthur," she remarked, her amusement evident. "And for that, I am grateful."

Extending her delicate hand towards me, she offered her assistance. I gratefully accepted her gesture, intertwining my fingers with hers, and with her aid, I effortlessly rose to my feet. Despite her petite frame, her grip was surprisingly firm, testament to the strength that lay within her.

A Scythe through and through, Seris possessed a unique prowess that flourished within the treacherous confines of the Relictombs. Her growth had been remarkable, and she had truly come into her own.

As I reflected upon my own progress, I couldn't help but recall the unorthodox training methods I had employed, including plunging into scorching lava. Though Regis may have dismissed them as foolhardy and masochist, they had yielded remarkable results, allowing me to harness the full power of the integration stage even within my draconic form.

Regardless of Regis's comments, I owed my achievements to these unconventional methods, and I remained steadfast in my determination to forge my own path.

I had succeeded in suppressing the insidious influence of Grey within my own being. Sylvie's selfless sacrifice had paved the way for my liberation, allowing me to regain control over my own actions and thoughts. This newfound clarity filled me with an overwhelming sense of contentment. While it was undeniable that Grey had played a significant role in my growth and increased power, I had come to understand that his path would lead me down a solitary road devoid of true happiness.

True happiness, I realized, resided within the vibrant tapestry of emotions that painted one's existence. Even in the darkest recesses of the Relictombs, where the Djinns had crafted traps with minds teetering on the edge of madness, I was resolved to embrace and experience these emotions fully.

Nevertheless, I acknowledged the necessity of balance. Unrestrained indulgence in one's emotions would be reckless in a world fraught with peril. There were moments when emotions needed to be reined in, their intensity subdued. I had gleaned valuable lessons from observing Grey's emotionless and icy demeanor, skillfully incorporating elements of his stoicism into my own personality when the situation called for it.

Seris and I pressed forward, navigating the labyrinthine Relictomb with unwavering determination. Every step we took was a careful dance, a delicate balance between agility and caution. The treacherous corridors were littered with cunningly devised traps, their mechanisms designed to ensnare unsuspecting intruders. It fell upon me to rely on the powers of the Realmheart, a pulsating artifact that granted me heightened senses and the ability to detect these hidden dangers. However, the constant strain of utilizing the Realmheart for prolonged periods exacted a toll on my stamina, necessitating frequent respites to replenish my energy.

Our journey was an arduous one, fraught with tension and uncertainty. The Relictombs themselves seemed to possess a malevolent sentience, an eerie aura hanging heavy in the air. The dim illumination cast by ethereal crystals created eerie shadows that danced and flickered, heightening the sense of unease that permeated the surroundings. Yet, with each passing obstacle, our bond grew stronger, our synchrony evident as we navigated the intricate maze of peril.

As we found brief moments of respite, we sought solace in the hidden alcoves and secluded chambers. There, within the confines of the Relictombs, we would allow our weary bodies to rest, basking in the temporary calm before resuming our relentless pursuit. It was during these stolen moments of tranquility that I would recharge, my body and mind revitalized, preparing for the next challenge that awaited us.

As we reached a temporary sanctuary within the Relictombs, Seris carefully placed the small, yet potent, magic device on the ground. This unassuming artifact held within it a trifecta of invaluable functions. A thin veil of shimmering mana formed at the entrance, serving as a vigilant guardian, ready to alert us of any potential intruders that dared encroach upon our haven. Its ability to regulate the ambient temperature provided respite from the oppressive and unpredictable conditions of the Relictombs, ensuring a modicum of comfort within the otherwise inhospitable labyrinth. Lastly, the device emitted a soft, gentle glow, casting warm illumination upon our surroundings, banishing the encroaching darkness that threatened to consume us.

I marveled at the sheer utility and ingenuity encapsulated within this unassuming contraption. It was a testament to the craftsmanship and artistry of the Djinns, their mastery over the intricate interplay of mana and technology.

"You need to sleep now, Arthur," Seris spoke with a hint of concern lacing her voice, as she retrieved two bedrolls from her belongings. Her angelic hair cascaded down her shoulders, glinting under the soft glow of the artifact. Seris possessed an uncanny ability to appear both fragile and resolute simultaneously, a contradiction that made her all the more captivating.

"Do I now?" I retorted playfully, a faint smile tugging at the corners of my lips. The draconic essence coursing through my veins had considerably diminished my need for sleep, requiring only a few hours of rest on a weekly basis.

She nodded, her eyes filled with genuine care. "True, your draconic body may require minimal sleep, but your mind remains human. It is essential to afford yourself moments of mental reprieve."

I considered her words, the weight of her concern resonating within me. Seris possessed a keen insight into the complexities of my being, a testament to our shared experiences and the bond we had forged amidst the trials of the Relictombs.

"Hmm," I murmured contemplatively, my gaze fixated on the artifact before us, its orange glow casting dancing shadows upon the uneven stone walls.

"I believe we can afford a more extended respite," Seris suggested nonchalantly, her voice laced with a note of optimism. "We still have an ample supply of rations, and if my calculations are correct, we are nearing the exit of this labyrinthine maze. Let us rest for two days, replenishing our strength before the final push."

My brows furrowed as I weighed the pros and cons of her proposition. My innate impatience urged me to press forward, to hasten our escape from the clutches of the Relictombs. However, a voice of reason echoed within me, reminding me of the perils of rushing headlong into the unknown.

"Fine," I acquiesced, my tone softened. "A more extended respite is warranted. It will indeed be beneficial to allow ourselves the luxury of rest."

A genuine smile graced Seris's lips, her eyes alight with gratitude. "Thank you, Arthur," she murmured, her voice infused with warmth and sincerity.

As if to further cement the notion of respite, Seris retrieved a collection of intricately crafted bottles from the recesses of her spatial ring. The distinct aroma of Alacaryan alcohol wafted through the air, adding a touch of mirth and camaraderie to our humble sanctuary within the Relictombs. The delicate glass vessels glimmered under the gentle illumination, each holding stories of their own, ready to be shared amidst the bonds of friendship and the solace of fleeting moments of respite.

"Care for a sip?" Seris's voice carried a mischievous lilt as she extended a slender hand, offering me a bottle of the exquisite Alacaryan alcohol. Its glass sparkled with hints of amber and gold, a testament to the craftsmanship that went into its creation. Despite the technological disparity between this world and my previous realm, the simple pleasure of alcohol remained a cherished indulgence, transcending time and cultural boundaries.

Accepting the bottle with gratitude, I settled onto the ground, propping myself up with my left arm. The weight of the glass felt cool and comforting against my palm as I deftly removed the cap, employing the strength granted to me by my Asuran lineage. With a flick of my right thumb, the cap was effortlessly dislodged, revealing the tantalizing liquid within.

Bringing the bottle to my lips, I tilted it, allowing the contents to cascade into my waiting mouth. The liquid danced across my taste buds, its flavours mingling and intertwining. Bitterness commingled with a subtle sweetness, the harmonious symphony of tastes awakening my senses. In a single swig, I consumed a third of the bottle, relishing the rich warmth that spread through my being.

"Haa~" I exhaled, a contented sigh escaping my lips. With a gentle swipe, I wiped the lingering traces of the liquid from my mouth, appreciating the lingering aftertaste that lingered upon my tongue. Placing the glass bottle gently upon the ground, I marvelled at the duality of alcohol—the bitter elixir that held the power to intoxicate both body and soul.