Hello everyone! How are you doing? I hope you are all doing fine!
Chapter 162 is here and as always, I wish you enjoy it!
Thank you once more for keeping up with the story, by following/ favoring/ simply reading it. You all are the best; truly.
See you all on the 21st with Chapter 163. Until then, be well and have fun!
A mighty red glow forced both faunus to avert their gaze, giving their eyes a few moments to adjust to the sight welcoming them through the massive stone gate.
There was no ash here; only a few wisps of gray dust poured through the opening before they scattered in the nonexistent wind. The floor was made of the same volcanic stone, albeit harsher and less polished.
The interior was massive. A ceiling so high it easily fit Blake's own house in hovered above their heads, supported by thick pillars the size of small towers. Statues of hooded people in various stances of prayer were put on their base and mighty glowing red runes ran across their surface.
In the middle of the room a tall statue was reflected in the shining eerie lights. It represented a tall hooded man kneeling before an empty and bloodied throne, offering it a- Blake sighed- freshly slaughtered corpse.
She moved closer, standing next to the monument. The blood was so realistic she would swear it dripped down the shining rock as the black haired girl knelt before its podium to take a look at the carved words.
"For the blasphemous, the throne is always empty…" her voice trailed off and her ears twitched. She blinked without turning around. It had been a while since she had picked up that sound- and it now was closer.
"Maybe it has religious power" Sun told her, having completely ignored the sound she had been hearing since they had stepped before the first monolith "something along the lines of a believer seeing if occupied."
"That could be possible" Blake kept pretending "or it could mean that only one with special powers could discern what that statue actually represents. Not that I can even imagine what that could be" she added.
"Well…" he shook his shoulders "don't we have more important things to look for?" he turned around and stared at the rest of the rectangular hall, a bit unnerved by the deceptively calm state of their surroundings.
The walls were formed of huge stone slabs forming a mosaic of sorts. Thick lines of scarlet- dyed gems separated the slabs, reaching up to the imposing ceiling. Images were carved on them and he moved in to see.
He noticed that all slabs had a specific mark on them; a bright red star with twisted alien rays was similarly engraved on each stone. It was surrounded by a set of runes weirdly and eerily unique to every slab.
"That seems like way too much effort" the monkey faunus pointed for his fiancée to look with her always superior eyesight. "Why design so many different slabs for your wall decorations?" he asked out as the cat woman carefully moved before the humongous wall to examine them.
All of a sudden, a shocked gasp escaped her lips. Blake's eyes opened wide in a mix of astonishment and mortified fear. Instead of replying to him, she dashed to the far end of the wall and raised a torch towards it.
"Blake?" he asked, but she raised her index finger, asking for him to be patient. The sigils glowed under her light. A mysterious whisper left her lips and she dashed to the other side, repeating the exact same actions.
To his credit, Sun remained calm and waited for her to finish, despite his confusion and worry. He knew her well enough to not interrupt her thoughts when she was trying to piece things together, after all.
"These are not decorations, Sun" she finally spoke after a few moments of searching. Her eyes twitched a couple more times and this time the blonde boy noticed her throwing off a few side glances behind his back.
"These are all tombstones" she ominously concluded her investigation. "Huh?" he blurted. Not losing focus on the sounds coming from behind them, she raised her future husband's gaze to the nearest tablets.
"This sigil is most likely some form of religious mark; just like the Grand Mother's eye we saw in the skeletons. And the surrounding texts are all customized. I don't know the language, but…" she trailed off "they look like names or titles. All those slabs have something sealed inside them."
He licked his lips and scoured the massive room. A knot had formed in his mouth for the first time in a while. If what Blake was implying was correct, the walls were filled to the brim with unknown sealed corpses.
"That place isn't a castle" he commented. "It's a mausoleum- a resting place for The Mad King's followers." He shivered. A cold breeze crept up his spine, despite the lack of any air current. His tail curled up from the cold. Blake shook her head.
"Those slabs" she gulped "are way too big for humans to be buried in, Sun." This time it was the boy's eyes that opened wide. "It truly is a mausoleum but it's also a prison for Charon's creations" she concluded.
"Did Salem make this?" he asked. Blake nodded "she had a part in it, for sure. We know it wasn't Grand Mother. Her army got slaughtered right before the gates. And for someone to actually perform such a feat…"
"Wouldn't the Grimm be easier to kill than seal?" the monkey faunus countered. "I get her locking something as colossal as an Elder away, but even above average Grimm should be cannon fodder for Salem."
"That is true" the yellow-eyed woman pondered for a moment until her ears twitched again. This time, though, even Sun's senses caught the noise. "What do you think about that, Robert?" Blake asked out loudly.
The noise grew heavier and sturdier. Sun turned around and spun his weapon in anticipation for an attack. There was no such need, though. Their enemy's heavy footsteps were menacing, but exceptionally slow.
Robert Ink appeared from the shadow of a massive pillar. His bulky and muscular stature was louder with each heavy stomp his boots made on the harsh rock. Blake's ears twitched once more- even more violently.
The warthog faunus was in a considerably bad state. His body wasn't damaged, possibly due to his skin hardening ability, but neither Blake nor Sun could miss the deep wounds and bleeding scars emanating from the vile black curse marks that spread across his arms and torso.
Power oozed out of the man, but he seemed to not be in control of it. To Blake, it felt more like it was leaking out and tormenting him rather than the opposite. His whole body trembled under the agonizing strain.
"When did you notice me?" his malicious grin was a perfect fit for that charnel mausoleum and its harrowing red light. "I knew something was tailing us since we left the village. I wasn't sure what it was, though."
He narrowed his marred eyes at the girl. "I was made sure the moment I saw this mausoleum. This is why we never met many Grimm in the area. Most of the Mad King's servants were sealed away along with it."
"So if it were a Grimm, it would have attacked us directly. My question now" she gripped her blade "I don't expect you to feel pity towards me or Weiss, but do you even realize what you have done to yourself?"
"It was necessary to be able to fight you" he simply remarked "this is the price of power." "You are shitting me, man" Sun groaned.
The blonde sent a furious gaze at the bulky warrior "cursing your own self for the sake of revenge is stupid; becomes one of the worst things I've ever heard of. This is no power. This is the price of hatred, man."
"I don't expect a privileged brat who grew up without being ostracized or assaulted to understand the lengths one must go to fight, Wukong" he cradled his massive mace and snorted heavily and violently.
"Fighting isn't a proper reason, you dumbass." Blake turned around and stared at her boyfriend. Swearing was rare for the good-natured faunus and she was a bit surprised to hear him say that.
"The reason one's fighting for is what gives your war value" the blonde added. "Even if you were a misguided bunch, the White Fang started as something I could respect and accept to a point" Sun stepped forward.
"But now?" he raised his arms to point around. "Look where we are, man. We are in Gods-know where, surrounded by Grimm tombs while some elder evil tries to wake up and devour us for breakfast.
And you two helped this thing wake up. You pissed on the world, on all the fellow faunus who live out there, just so you could kill Blake and Weiss? This is no battle, man. This is hatred. Pointless and pitiful as eff."
"I know that already" Ink cracked his neck and rubbed the gaping hole on his chest. "But hatred is all I know, lucky bastard. Hatred is, during my times at orphanages and streets, the only thing that kept me going."
"I am sorry to hear that" Sun gripped his staff and got ready for the upcoming assault "but I have met people who grew up in similar places and they never used their misfortune as an excuse to hurt others."
"SILENCE!" a couple bolts soared through the sky, aiming for the boy's head. Already waiting for Stella's assault, Blake ignored the booming voice's overwhelming anger and whirled Nightfall, cutting them down.
"YOU ARE IN NO POSITION TO LECTURE US, YOU FILTHY HUMAN ASS KISSER!" the voice echoed in the mausoleum, stirring the stones and travelling the endless decrepit halls, much to Blake's worry.
"Maybe restrain your partner" Blake raised her sword, as Sun moved next to her "I don't think all of this place's denizens are dead or asleep, Robert." The man smiled at her, raising his mace in primal satisfaction.
"This is exactly what we are hoping for, Belladonna."
-o—
A narrow room with low ceiling and walls so close to each other that she could barely walk undeterred met Ruby's eyes as she reached the end of the corridor.
The heat was intensifying to the point of being a serious problem with every step she took. She rolled up her sleeves and quickly stowed her beloved cloak away in her backpack with rapid, practiced movements.
Despite it being so short, it took her a good ten minutes to pass through the corridor. Dripping in sweat, she stepped out into the open-
Correction, she stepped out into a spacious room. It was circular, with a set of pillars supporting its dome-shaped ceiling. Images of monstrous entities made of colorful stained glass decorated the dome's windows.
The walls were undecorated. Instead, there were human-sized seats in every direction. She stared at the one right next to her. It was filled in numerous thin needles, smeared in splashes of dried-up brown blood.
Why the heck would someone make such a seat? She pondered as her silver pools confirmed all the stone-carved seats had the same patterns of thin needles engraved on them, making it impossible for someone-
Forget I asked, she corrected her question once her gaze fell upon a massive altar in the middle of the room. A circular array of impossibly blasphemous statues surrounded the podium the altar was placed on.
They all represented twisted Grimmified versions of angels. Thin bat wings burst out of their backs, blood sculpted so vividly that it seemed as if it was actually flowing out their freshly-opened wounds.
Their bodies were covered in bindings and tarnished chains. Thin arms and legs protruded out of their sealed forms, reaching out to the altar in a disgustingly mocking attempt of a faithful prayer for salvation.
Their mask-covered faces were hideously marred by large mouths that were sculpted to give the lifelike impression of agony and martyred wailing. They were designed to invoke both worship and religious pain.
The altar was radiating impossible heat. It pulsed like a searing scarlet flame, dying the tormented devils in a glowing malicious hue. Their masks gleamed in the dim light, burning their image in her silver eyes.
This place looks like a church; or a sacrificial ground. A knot formed in her throat. I don't even want to know what sort of monster they used to worship here… she glared at one of the bloody chairs …or how they did.
She moved closer to the screaming angel visages. Their postures were so intense; she felt her blood freeze as her silver orbs met one of the marble faces. There should be a limit at how realistic a statue can be!
"There are no limits to devotion, Ruby Rose."
A sudden movement caught her eyes, the very moment the deep and unnaturally deep voice addressed her name. She jumped away as the altar shook and the runes erupted in fiery magical energy.
As if appearing out of thin air, a figure smeared in fire suddenly stood before her. The horned skull and charcoal black skin pulsed in a vile red glow, as smoke spread around its red-hot hooves.
Ruby carefully eyed the hanging golden ornaments around its mighty neck and the macabre polished human skulls strapped on its waist belt. The creature's red eyes fell upon her and it stood before the forms of the petrified Grimm angels, towering over them as a subject of prayer.
This was one of the times she didn't want her fleeting questions to be so quickly answered. The creature before her was definitely radiating enough power and authority to warrant such a place of devotion.
That being said, though, she had no qualms about its identity. Powerful and mighty it may seemed at the moment, but there wasn't anything as outrageous about it as her previous encounters against the unknown.
All in all, it was an extremely powerful Grimm standing before her. "You are not the Mad King, are you?" she asked. "I am Gnastaur, His High Priest. And you are standing before my chambers, silver-eyed warrior."
"Uh-huh" she gripped Crescent Rose in a tighter form. "You know of the silver-eyed warriors." The creature walked down the dark podium and passed by the statues with the ease of a lord walking into his chambers.
"I assume this was your doing, avatar of light" Gnastaur raised a mask in its clawed hands. It was partially charred and molten in various ways, but she could still recognize the dreadful visage behind the blood clots.
Her eyes narrowed in recognition and the priest snorted "I was sure it must have been a tremendous enemy to force Blekklat to seek refuge in my sanctum in such an unfitting state for a member of our court. Now I see a silver-eyed warrior standing fully armed before my chapel."
I see now… she slightly tilted her left leg to the side. It thinks I killed the masked guy with my silver eyes and is weary of me. Maybe I can use it to take advantage of his moment-
"I was told by the human scholar that the only silver-eyed warrior left alive, Ruby Rose, poses no threat to us now that her ability has been lost. He was clearly acting a fool- or playing me for one." Ok, Rose forget that plan.
"Are you done talking?" Ruby asked and whirled Crescent Rose. The tall Grimm lowered its gaze at her. "Indeed…" its voice stretched low and husky "it is time for the angels to sing their prayers to this Forgotten Land- to their King."
Ruby's eyes opened wide at the mortifying proclamation. Her first and foremost instinct was to ask what it meant by that, but even before she had the chance to, the wind whispered to her in soft, humming voices.
A murmur of the old, mystifying and forgotten by mortals caressed her ears. It began as a childish rhyme; a long-lost song from ages ago, worshipping the stars and the moon reflected on the golden sands.
A rattling sound from the altar interrupted the sweet, nostalgic melody. "What the-" before Ruby's silver eyes, the angelic forms moved in eerie harmony, stretching their hands to their throats as if trying to speak.
And just like that, the tune changed. A guttural melody from the deep melted into the childish voice. The song's pitch drew even lower, as the voices twisted and deformed, slowly losing all traces of their humanity.
Ruby stepped back and Gnastaur did nothing to try stopping her. This song was unbearable and evoked such disgust in her soul.
The demonic choir assaulted her very senses in a way akin to the Piper's song in the Abyssal Temple; the only issue was that the malformed and twisted Grimm's song was so alien and strange that its very presence threatened her sanity.
On the other hand, this melody was familiar. Even as the whispers' dark voices sent goosebumps all over her skin, she could perceive children voices and humming beneath the cursed words and inhuman gurgles.
"Make it stop" she raised Crescent Rose and aimed at the hierophant. A slithering feeling spread on her body, chanting vile and blasphemous practices in her mind. Gnastaur didn't flinch "you are too late, warrior."
The crescendo came suddenly. A loud bang akin to a bass forged in the lowest pits of hell stroke her skull with intense ferocity. The twisted choir chanted in high pitches. She could swear the voice came from the deformed angelic statues that now knelt before the accursed altar.
Her mind was bleeding from the intensity. A legion of Grimm voices in complete unison with the childish song's rhyme chanted its prayer to the Mad King.
They spoke of an eternal kingdom, damned by the Black Witch. They spoke of an eternal sleep, waiting to be broken. They sang of death's defeat and the awakening of the sealed ones at the hands of humans.
They spoke of the End of things. Vacuo's civilization was about to lose to the inevitable storm blowing at their door. They prayed for Charon's return to its rightful seat and its escape from the Netherworld's binds.
"The time has come" in a serious and almost melodic voice, Gnastaur raised its two smaller arms and the ground shook from the intense magical power. The aria rose and carried the vile magic across the wind.
"Death's embrace has wilted; oh King of the Netherworld, awaken from your slumber."
-o—
Riding on the wind, the monstrous Grimm's spell travelled across each and every of the forsaken mausoleum's corridors. It entered the rooms, blowing the dust off the ancient stone seats and feasting tables.
It sprang though the charnel staircases, stirring the ruined chandeliers and rattling the deserted crypts. It danced around the decrepit tombs, blowing a tiny essence of blasphemous life inside the rotten carcasses.
"Gnastaur has begun its chanting" Maize Goldenrod raised his staff and started removing the fake exterior from his enchanted weapon. Pure, shining gold met with his eyes, marred by pulsing red-black runic sigils.
"Will you go, then?" Fergus Celain stirred on his seat, his expression of doubt and worry betraying his conflicted emotions. If Maize noticed, he said nothing.
"It was unexpected that the Mad King would ask Yang Xiao Long to be his sacrifice, but I was prepared to fight her in any case" he stated as if reciting a math textbook "it is just another obstacle I must surpass."
Without expecting any reply, he raised his weapon and stepped out of the workshop, throwing a couple glances towards his daughter's effigy as he did. The time is almost upon us, my child. I will see you again.
Robert, Sun and Blake stared around them in worry as the walls shook. Chains rattled like crazy and the tombs shook violently from the inside. The chanting echoed in the vast room heralding their upcoming demise.
Seated on its podium outside the massive gate, Alastor flapped its huge mighty wings. Its deformed face rose towards the path the mortals had taken, unaware of its presence observing them from high above.
The starry sky over its head gleamed and red dots appeared in the fake cosmos. The chanting rose from the towers, swarmed the massive castle walls and breathed into the fog, oozing its power across the land.
The time had come. Alastor the Chariot opened its wings and its bulky form soared up the skies, flying towards the awakening castle's walls.
Ichor's slithering body was swimming between the solid rock floors and stone-hard walls.
Moving like a nightmare snake, the predator passed by sacrificial chambers and bloodstained chapels. It swam through desolate and unseen crypts, diving towards its prey at impossible speeds.
As the chanting reached it, a surge of primal euphoria overwhelmed the monster. It opened its abhorrent jaws and let out a triumphant screech that harrowed every single entity haunting the deserted passages.
Gaining momentum from its frenzied bloodlust, Ichor tunneled down the castle. Its soulless hunger was eager to be satiated with its King's offerings.
-o—
Deep inside the mausoleum, the chanting reached a sealed tomb. It wasn't the largest chamber in the castle, not even by a long shot, but its thick door and impenetrable walls were reinforced with ancient sealing magic, long forgotten by the denizens of Remnant.
In its middle was a tall throne made of shining black volcanic stone. A thick layer of black sand surrounded it, glowing with the same sealing spells as the rest of the chamber.
Seated on the throne was a medium-sized being. Its body was pierced on the protruding glass shards and embalmed in thick bindings. A third layer of sealing was sewn on both the bindings and the underlying skin.
Its face was covered by a mask of pure white-gold bone. Golden highlights of priceless value formed its eyes and mouth, leaving small openings for washed away scarlet eyes and dried thick lips to be just barely visible.
Its mind was trapped inside this very tomb, its own castle, for ages. Its vessel was paralyzed by the Witch's magic and the toll on its power was so great that only its own madness allowed the Mad King to exist at all.
As the chanting reached the chamber and began eating the protective sigils away, the deformed entity's mind felt a tug at the back of its alien sentience. A familiar presence was calling- reaching out to it.
For the first time in nameless eons, The Mad King's eyes blinked.