-42-
Contrary to what he opened his eyes to about a day ago, Stormy Knight, or rather, Storm, realized that the lair he was kept captive in was no longer a complete blackness. This time, a dim, wavering light barely illuminated his sight up to a certain radius. Yet, the same band of guardians continued keeping a close surveillance on him, though he was practically helpless. His head had a large swelling on it, and his head sustained a serious injury due to the blow by Baphomet. It felt as if a part of his skull was ripped apart by inhuman hands.
Thick iron chains wrapped around his limps, and it was magically enchanted by the great Baphomet to resist whatever ploys the blue knight had in mind. Not even his communication with Abyss through telepathy. Storm had submitted his fate to the massive goat superior, but his death just kept dragging on to god-knows-when.
Half the ruler of Glast Heim, Baphomet was bent on digging out whatever information he could out of Storm. When the knight remained silent defiantly, the goat superior would merely chuckle to himself and gesture for the band of guardians to attack at will. Storm, totally incapacitated, could only reveal fragments of it since he was in no condition to even talk.
The fragment that was told by Storm did little to satisfy Baphomet's expectations. Therefore, he decided to let Storm stay alive. Only to have the merciless band tormenting him beyond recognition. He was now more of a "brown knight", since little parts of his body was not marred with dried blood. The once proud knight had literally become a walking dead; he was now in a state that was equivalent to one of a chained up zombie, moaning out of pure suffering.
Storm guessed that Baphomet was within the lair, for the dim light would only indicate his presence. As if to make his presence further felt, the great goat superior thumped his scythe against the ground loudly, then made a gurgling noise. In his hand grasped a pulsing heart in a soup of blood, that of a human. When Storm's head turned his way, Baphomet licked at the bloody organ, then chomped on it in a gruesome manner. The heart made a soft squishing noise as his teeth sank into it, sending blood squirting out of his mouth. Storm made a snort as he rattled his chains.
"Delicious… that fool of a human," Baphomet said with his mouth full of chewed up heart.
Standing up, the goat superior strode purposefully over to the knight, planting his hooves on his spiky mane, but more on the swelling.
"Next reward for you, Knight of Windstorm, would be muting you. Shouldn't you be talking?"
Storm spat out a glob of blood that was causing discomfort in his throat, before rasping in a voice that did not sound anything like his own.
"K… K… Kill me. K… Kill m… me! Let me die!"
"Blame it on your carelessness, knight," Baphomet commented, increasing the pressure on the knight's head wound. Storm only screamed the louder, even forcing the band of guardians to take a step back involuntarily.
"Argh! Let me die!" Storm screamed again as blood began pouring down freely from the opened wound.
"In time to come, yes, but not until you tell me whatever you know," Baphomet responded with a sly grin that was hardly visible.
A Baphomet Junior stepped forth and jabbed its mini-scythe into the back of Storm. The knight grunted from the stab, but Baphomet cut it short with a kick across the face. Storm fell unconscious once again, the cries of agony and the rattling of chains stopped. But the only thing that did not stop, was the flowing of blood from macabre wounds.
"My patience wears thin," Baphomet boomed, causing his minions to cower. "Make sure that I do not receive such response the next round, otherwise the lot of you shall share his burden of hell."
The band of guardians made a soft noise out of fear, their minds racing to find means to make the knight talk before they ended up in his stomach. Baphomet took his scythe and left in a huff, and the lair plunged into an impenetrable darkness with the dousing of the flame.
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"Foolish… totally foolish beyond estimation. That's a grave mistake, mister knight," a lone figure muttered to himself in the middle of the graveyard.
Glast Heim's second half ruler, Dark Lord, stood near a cluster of large tombstones. His bemusement was further exacerbated when the aura underneath his floating form suddenly flared a myriad of gloomy colours, and the hole where mud had been dug up earlier was filled mysteriously. That can only mean one thing. The Dark Illusion had failed to apprehend the Abyss Knight. All the better, the lord himself would not have to destroy his most trusted right-hand man personally, since he was in no mood to even do anything.
"Damn you Abyss Knight! Well now, the hunt had proven unsuccessful, it seems," the skeletal lord mumbled again in an angrier manner, then kicked apart the tombstones. "I'll take over, then."
The other fiends loitering the graveyard of Glast Heim wisely hid themselves in a corner, knowing that their lord was not exactly in a delightful mood today. They remained unseen, until Dark Lord floated off the graveyard premises. They too, hoped that the Abyss Knight would brace himself, for he was likely to face the unexpected.
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The death of the Dark Illusion brought both bad and good news to Abyss. As for the latter, the mist of his plans was clearing, giving him a fine sight of success. As for the bad news, that would trigger a pursue by the Dark Lord himself, which he highly doubted he would emerge victorious if the two were to clash. The Dark Illusion was already a tough enough opponent, let alone the master. Moreover, he had sustained major burns from the skeletal subordinate of the graveyard lord.
Always making sure that the black flask was secured to him all the time, Abyss left the St Abbey church for Baphomet's grounds, the Glast Heim castle. At the same time, he would have a rendezvous with Storm, then they would return to the pit after seizing hold of the two halves of Intelligence Trait. When the four of them had their powers enhanced, defeating the strongest fortress in Rune-Midgard, Prontera, would be equivalent to bursting a poring apart.
He might be thinking too far ahead, but Abyss felt confident that everything was going to come to fruition very soon. The ebony knight had already realized that Storm had been missing from his thoughts. He only assumed that he was either busy sampling Glast Heim "cuisines", or too engrossed in his own task to contact him through telepathy.
Abyss had to move quickly, for it was almost effortless for the Dark Lord to catch up with his pace. He tried his best to travel through routes that were less obvious to demons, while it was a rather slow process. Still, a slow pace was than a risk of being seen. Abyss adjusted his sword belt to a more comfortable position so as to facilitate his climbs and descends.
A towering, dull grey castle loomed before him. Abyss's chest raced with excitement as this would be over soon. In fact, as soon as he entered the castle. The knight drew his black sword as he stepped up the stairs leading to the large opening, deciding that any demons who barred his way must be slain. No one had better stop him…
The castle interior was dark as always. Abyss knew that there would always be darkness when it comes to Glast Heim. He edged his way in the slightly opened double doors, his senses attuning to his new surroundings for any signs of demons. Surprisingly, the ebony knight did not fear the possibility of Baphomet's presence. Even if he was discovered, it would take a while for the massive goat to reach him from the depths of the castle. That would give him enough time to flee the scene, though the goat demons would definitely detect his presence in Glast Heim. Now, he was being pursued by Dark Lord. He certainly did not want another superior make Dark Lord's hunt easier.
Assuming that the coast was clear, Abyss unbuckled the black flask that was pulsing mildly from the contents within. The souls were eager to escape the flask where they were kept captive. Holding it up high before him, Abyss let it slip from his grip. Though he could see nothing in the dark, the knight could feel the shattering of the flask, and the restless, angry souls began pouring forth from the broken flask, a heavy purple mist even overwhelming the darkness of the castle.
There was a loud hissing noise, as more souls struggled out. The air was tainted with the odour of a corpse, while the purple mist clouded what appeared to be the entire foyer. When the last of the souls flew, a roar sounded, then it was all silent again. This was when the ritual would begin…
Abyss traced his finger in the thick purple smoke, drawing some intricate arcane symbols that looked foreign to anyone else. A wind suddenly picked up, the cape of the knight fluttering madly. Abyss chanted furiously repeatedly, drawing more complicated symbols after each.
Finally, it seemed that it had come to a conclusion, for Abyss withdrew his black sword upright, as if honouring the symbols before him. Then, muttering another short chant, he slashed his sword in a downward arc. The souls began to hiss once again, but they were no longer scattered over the castle. Instead, they began to gather at a particular spot, and assembled.
The insubstantial apparitions ranged from Evil Druids and Whispers, to Zombie Prisoners and Nightmares. Abyss raised his black sword, and cut through the air horizontally. Slowly, the souls became solid as one by one following the knight's spell of animation. But the most distinct resuscitated soul had to be the Dark Illusion. The only thing different about the skeletal mage was that, he now served no one except for Abyss Knight, the one who brought him back to existence. Dark Lord was no longer an influence over him.
Satisfied at his work, he uttered a sharp command that sent the animated beings captured from the graveyard rampaging the castle. Abyss could not see the damages caused by the demons due to the darkness, but judging from the deafening crashes and booms, the carnage was inconsiderable. More wreckage followed as the demons ventured deeper into the castle, the din becoming more distant.
The task done, Abyss tried to send a telepathic message to Storm, asking him to come out of the castle. However, no response came. It was not exactly strange that Storm did not respond, but somehow he felt a blockage in Storm's thoughts to everybody else. And, the talkative knight was always initiating a conversation. Come to think about it, there had been a silence the past couple of days. Storm was way too quiet…
Abyss began to realize the worst. The only logical explanation could only be the capturing of Storm by Baphomet, and that would too explain his silence. Nobody on the face of Rune-Midgard was able to lay down such a spell except for a superior. Turning back to the castle again, Abyss tightened his grip on his black sword as he ran through the darkness of the foyer.