The adventurers were relentless on their assault on Titanius and anything that stood in their way, killing or converting cultists that worshiped the ancient horror as their god. After their successful assault on the all-seeing yet vulnerable gazer, their morale peaked. Yet, they have not known what was awaiting them in the heart of dissonance.
As they fussed over one another, the gargantuan gazer looked at them with glee as the sweet and succulent scent of dissonance wafted the chamber. They were nearly ready… but before the tasting was to begin, one of them had to be taken care of first.
One single tentacle was more than enough. It shot out of the deep darkness above and coiled around the blazing swordsman’s body, pulling him up at blinding speeds towards the ceiling. The gigantic appendage then slammed his body like a mannequin into the flesh ground. @Sean Poteitoku exploded like a bag of blood and flesh, leaving nothing but a large red stain in the bouncy and slippery surface.
KUKUKU…
Inertia governed the creature’s massive body despite the damage it received from so many attacks. Suddenly, the massive gazer’s pupil turned a bright red. Moments later, the countless orifices in the walls and ground of the distorted environment spewed harmless black smoke into all zones, clouding vision. Then, Titanius’ Gaze and the massive organ it was attached to slowly retracted into the deep darkness in the ceiling. As silence filled the chamber, it was now possible to hear the horror’s strangely human heartbeat. The pounding reverberated through the walls and the ground, it was a calm rhythm with a tinge of excitement.
Afterwards, the ground shook and solidified, losing its fleshy elasticity. Screams could be heard all around the chamber as it underwent a metamorphosis. When the black cloud dispersed, it became apparent that the entirety of Titanius’ flesh interior was now a black crystal similar to obsidian. Several adventurers were either impaled to death or had merged with the black walls — the massive room had literally shrunk, taking many lives with it during the violent transformation.
Herald of the false kings
After the drastic alteration of the battlefield, a blinding pillar of light beamed down from the ceiling. When its blinding radiance dissipated, the group could see a woman with snow-white hair and mesmerizing golden eyes kneeling at its center. She appeared to be holding onto the handle of a massive lance with one hand while a shield of comparable stature was affixed onto the other.
Despite the different hair and eye color as well as tiny black veins that latched onto some parts of her exposed skin like overgrown vines, anyone could tell it was the Queen of Falderen, D’vangelline de Falder, who the raid party met up with much earlier in the day. Although she had given her words to help the group, her presence now implied a different role.
Before long, a burst of black fire lit up the entire chamber as a man materialized out of thin air. His most distinguishing features also included white hair, golden eyes, and black tendrils claiming some of his exposed skin like D’vangelline. Despite the slightly different hair style, it was unmistakable that the person standing in front of the raid group and casting his mocking gaze down at them was Astor, the King of Astorea.
No one could tell how or why the Astor, who was responsible for assembling the raid party to go vanquish Titanius in the first place was now their enemy, but the moment he and D’vangelline conversed with the group, it became clear that the only path forward was that of a violent one.
Astor clicked his tongue....Who gave you permission to writhe like vermins, mongrels? Accept your fate, and die already. Burning something as insignificant as you is a shame to a king.
D’vangelline nodded in agreement as she stretched herself. Now, now… If you burn them while feeling shame, they will be nothing but second rate flesh, teehee. I hope you don’t mind if there are some holes in the ingredients, yes?
With his body hovering a few feet in the air, Astor extended his arm forward to cast a spell. The words that were coming from his mouth did not sound anything like how Pyromancy incantations were supposed to sound. Anyone who was well-versed in the arcane arts could tell that Astor was channeling power from an awakened mastery called Fire Possession, though there was not a single presence of the elemental he was supposed to derive power from. Within seconds, a storm of black flames that were shaped like swords began falling from the ceiling, burning everything they came in contact with.
At the same time, D’vangelline positioned herself in front of the floating Astor and assumed a defensive stance by raising her shield and resting her lance atop it. With a faint whisper of a spell, her shield began glowing a bright red. Afterward, several ethereal maidens who looked identical to her materialized in a circle around Astor, their spears were drawn and ready for any insect intending to charge in.
