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To the Roots of Akasha

The Dungeon of Gods, the Tower of Man... The Root of Akasha is just an instance of several existence of the dungeons, yet for some reason, inside lies an important quest that may change the world as a whole. The one who could conquer this dungeon... could conquer the world. To the Roots of Akasha is a comedy dark fantasy about the dungeon, and the adventurers who challenged it

MilkAndSausage · Fantasia
Classificações insuficientes
31 Chs

The Beginning of the End

It was the 23rd day of the Month of Lefiathan. It was nighttime, and the temperature was so cold that I could feel the chill on my arms, even though I was wearing multiple layers of thick clothing. Well, one reason for that is because they are tattered; parts of the silk were hanging down from tears and drenched with my own red blood.

Today, I couldn't help but appreciate the beauty of the moon. I had never seen something so beautiful; it was the most wonderful thing I had seen all day. Part of this was because it was already destroyed. The moon was already broken before I was born. Huge rocks were scattered through the massive expanse surrounding it. These rocks could have fallen and penetrated our world, but they didn't. It was like the moon was paused in time. Some believe it's because there's a huge 'World Eater' inside that is holding the moon in place. But setting that aside, I was mystified by the moon because it was already dead.

And I wished for something like that to happen in this world too. What am I even trying to say?

I picked a cigar from my chest pocket; it wasn't mine, but who cares ?

"Lord of fire, mysterious flame that scours the world to oblivion, light my path to extremities and burn the souls through your never-ending hunger. [Fireball]."

With my index finger, I lit up the end of the cigarette. Then I sucked the life out of it.

"Ack! _Cough_ _Cough_"

My throat burned! I shouldn't have done that! But you couldn't blame me for that; it's my first time ever using one. And I felt disgusted. Why would people even suck smoke? 

"Shit! This shit is crap!" So I threw it out and stepped on it, extinguishing the fire. I can't risk burning the forest accidentally. But why would I even care about that?

I deeply inhaled and slapped my own cheeks. Something like that helped me recover my senses and clear my jumbled thoughts. I knew I was being paranoid. I'm not being my normal self right now. But I can't help it. My time is nearing its end.

Right... My little sister's birthday is today too. I should have stayed at home and treated her to some bread and soup. I should have talked to her more and played with her instead of wasting my time trying to fight the spawn of the dark lord. I really... really regret participating in this fruitless war. And my compensation for my hard work is death? No kidding.

Standing up from my resting spot, I braced myself for another run. Mansted Forest is a difficult forest to navigate. There are a lot of vines, thick trees, uprooted roots, extreme topography, and generally, being lost inside it is a death sentence. It's a home for exotic monsters that are hard to deal with, especially when it's already dark. But I chose this place for my escape for the same reasons. I don't know if I'm lucky or not, but I need to be optimistic, shouldn't I?

I tried to run, though a sharp [Fireball] hit me with incredible speed. Soon, I realized I was being thrown away. It should hurt, but I didn't feel a single thing. I lost all sensation in my body. My vision didn't give me a chance to see what was going on, but am I already dead? No, I'm still breathing. As long as I'm breathing, I won't give up on trying to survive.

Focus, Theo. Focus. Collect your mana in a single spot, gently, carefully. I've made up my mind. I'm going to kill them. I swear to God, I will kill them. I will kill the hero's party. They're not heroes. They're satanists.

I am part of this party myself. I am one, chosen by the hero. But how could they do this to me? I trusted them, treated them like family, and suddenly I find myself being chased to death. How could they?

As the sight cleared, I saw my body tattered. The bones from my arms were poking out of my red-flooded flesh. No wonder I couldn't move a single finger; even my legs were decapitated. That [Fireball] did a lot to my body; it rendered me useless. I'm dying.

From the darkness, I saw its caster: the mage of the hero's party, Niel Sylvia. She's also my master who taught me magic. No wonder, even a basic spell like [Fireball] could have firepower like this. I looked up to her. How disappointed I was to know she's like this. The only thing I can do now is glare. Her large purple witch hat embroidered with gold curls, the purple eyes that pierce the darkness, the staff as tall as she is, the smirk that stretches from ear to ear—I can't forget them.

"What? Gonna cry?" She's really good at hurting people not just with spells, but also with words. She grabbed me by the chin as she taunted me with her childish face. "Pity, Theo. You want to leave the party and have a normal life with Agatha while we're sacrificing ourselves fighting the Dark Lord? No way. If you want to leave, then leave as a corpse."

That's not going to work now, is it? It's my dream to have a normal life away from wars. I'm tired of sniffing the ashes of the dead bodies I've burned. I'm tired of seeing my acquaintances die. I only shared this dream with my fiancée, Agatha. What a mistake. Agatha is also a member of the hero's party and I can only imagine that she told the leader. But what part of my dream is inherently wrong to deserve this?

"Tch... If you just kneeled and prostate yourself in front of us then beg to stay. I would have second thoughts in all of this." she said but her voice was so insincere. 

"So beautiful!" She stared at my broken flesh with deep interest. "I agree, I shouldn't judge people by their outward appearance, but I shall look at what's inside their body. And Theo, yours is beautiful. It's making me hungry..."

"That's enough, Niel."

Shit! It's Albert!

Without a word, he started dragging me with the remaining flesh on my left arm. Occasionally, some parts of my flesh would snag on thick roots, and the supposed-to-be good guy would forcefully yank my body free, creating even more tears in my body. I hoped he would show me a little bit of sympathy, even just basic human decency, but he didn't treat me like a human at all. Despite his very well-defined appearance and overall healthy body, his bloodshot lunatic eyes revealed his insanity.

Some time passed, and I saw a stone podium the size of a human. Candles were lit, casting a flickering flame. The floor displayed a blood-drawn pentagram, with written incantations on the circle's side. I saw Misty, dragging the body of a wolf with a deep cut on its neck. Each edge of the pentagram had what I assumed were the requirements for their dark ritual: a black cat's fur, a wyvern's tear, an elder mage's body hair, and others. I knew what they were doing. They needed no words to explain it; they had chosen me as a sacrifice for some gain of power. Since I am planning to leave, they took the opportunity to convert me into raw power. But I wouldn't let them do it. I would foil their plan.

Currently, I can do nothing. But I've been accumulating my mana to prepare my spell. I've been experimenting dangerous magic lately, and I don't know if it will work, but I can try. The concept is simple: make my mana overload itself and burst until my body explodes with pure mana. I call it [Self-Destruct] magic. Of course, I could never survive after that, and it was my last resort.

They placed me on the podium to start the ritual. The pillars of humanity surrounded me in a circle. All of them were present: March the Assassin, Basylik the Warrior, Misty the Archer, Agatha the Healer, Niel the Wizard, and Albert the Hero. It was painful for me to see that my fiancée was participating in this, and the look on her face—she looked so happy seeing me in despair. It was outrageous.

However, what came next surprised me even more. All of them removed their clothes, exposing their naked bodies. I had a bad feeling about this ritual from the start, but this just amplified those feelings.

The hero spoke, "Calamities of the world, I summon thee, the one who holds the title of God of Happiness, the one who bears the name of Hielfritz!"

A strong feeling weighed on me, something heavy pushing me down. My anxiety peaked, and my hope plummeted. Something big was coming for me. I could feel HIM. I wanted to run, I want to scream. If I had a choice, I would rather die than see what I was about to see.

I shifted my gaze to the pillars, and my fear deepened. Agatha, my fiancée, was kissing Albert. Their tongues intertwined, drool falling from their mouths, mixing their essence into one. Later, Albert pushed Agatha down to her knees and began to breed.

My dream shattered. No, it wasn't just shattered—it was obliterated beyond recovery. The though of dying didn't scare me anymore. I just bit my lip and ignited my spell to end it all. There was nothing more to say; I just did it. That was it.

A bright light consumed me, then everything turned dark. I died.