CHAPTER XVI: CRYPT OF IMMORTAL HATE
He was there – looking at me with immense hatred, and at the same time, with pride about what I had just achieved.
The marine stopped for a moment before the entrance of the crypt. The visions that he had in the previous days had just started to make sense – the Gatekeeper was trying to warn him about these enemies. That would mean that the demon knew what was going to happen. Or he was masterfully manipulating him, leading him to something that served the demon's concealed intentions. Kyle remembered the other two visions – one of them showed him the Ice Revenant he already knew about, and the other was about some kind of barbaric warlord. The marine had the feeling he had already met the so-called Ice Weasel – the mysterious frost attack in the first crypt suggested that it was that creature that captured the Major. Only one question remained – would the Gatekeeper help them with the matter of Dr. Stalker after the revenant was down. Kyle could still not figure out why the Gatekeeper would wish to eliminate those beings. He hoped the answers would come later, just as the tale he had heard clarified many other mysteries that bothered him.
The small corridor beyond the crypt's entrance led to a circular chamber, where a statue of dark warrior in ancient armor stood in the center. The colossal man held an enormous sword, covered with various mysterious symbols. The helmet was massive and horned, with only two small slits for the eyes. The marine had always considered that pretty funny and pointless, as the armor severely limited the combatant's ability to move with ease and avoid enemy fire. No wonder ancient knights had gone extinct.
The corridor led into a huge hall, where Kyle saw an enormous wooden table and wooden benches around it – they all appeared pretty crude, as if hand-made by savages. Countless weapons and shields hung from the walls, and right under them were long tables covered with many precious objects – golden chalices, chests filled with sparkling coins, items made with precious stones, and many other... trophies. Trophies in a room made for feasting after battle. Kyle had only heard of these, when the marines exchanged tales about things they had seen in movies, or read in the archives. Novels and ancient epics of legendary battles and the celebrations after victory – glorious feasts among the carnage and the spoils of battle. And in this hall, there were many such items, a grim collection of the symbols of past slaughter and destruction. Kyle had no idea of the purpose of this celebration hall in the demonic crypts. Or perhaps there was something he missed...
The only object on one of the tables was a lonely forgotten goblet – empty and covered with dust. On the other narrow side, the marine saw an ornamented chair, instead of a bench – whoever led the warriors that ever feasted in the hall, sat there. This reminded Harlan of the warlord from the vision – it was prudent to assume that he could be found somewhere within the crypt. Two larger chests near one wall caught the marine's attention. They were solid, ornamented with small images of distorted demonic faces. Inside it, Kyle found an impressive collection of crowns – in various shapes and sizes. Undoubtedly stolen from long forgotten ancient rulers. Wondering what had happened with those rulers, Kyle opened the second chest where the answer to that question was kept. It was full of human skulls – probably the ones that wore the crowns in life. The marine felt sick and backed away after shutting the lids of the chests. In that moment he was perfectly sure he wanted to leave the hall and carry on with his search.
The next room was an armory – following the previous feasting hall, it was filled with crude suits of ancient body armor, and melee weapons that Kyle had only seen on pictures – swords, axes, clubs, and warhammers. The small flashlight revealed that some of the blades still had rust-brown bloodstains on them. There were also devices that Kyle recognized as siege tools – his memories from the Military Academy courses were still quite strong. There were ladders, hooks tied to stout chains, battering rams... and metal spheres filled with a grey substance that looked like crudely produced and unrefined gunpowder. Primitive explosive devices? The marine started to feel nervous when he tried to imagine the kind of army that would be using these instruments of death and destruction. The barbaric warriors he had seen in movies, which filled most of the wasted time in Mars City One, looked quite dangerous and utterly mindless. From what he had seen, Harlan knew that only the strongest and most ruthless one among these savages could be their leader. And it seemed likely he was about to fight with one such person soon...
The next hall was darker – a few lonely torches among the numerous rectangular boxes threw a dim glow and dancing shadows around the chamber. The wooden boxes were locked, yet without looking into them, Kyle had the grim feeling that they were coffins. Inside them could be the people who used the weaponry stashed in the previous room. Hopefully, the chests were all locked tight, and the marine did not notice any concealed black containers in the dark corners of the room. It was strange that he had so far only encountered one demon on each of the floors. If there was a demon in this crypt, it could be hiding right there, in the gloomy hall of coffins...
Just as he thought about that, Kyle heard a silent step from behind. Without delay, he turned around and aimed the shotgun at that direction. There was no one else in the room. The Corporal felt silly – the events from the previous days had their effect, and he was starting to hallucinate... But no, he heard a noise again – a few careful steps, as if something tried to stealthily sneak under the protection of the darkness. Kyle tried to calm down and think, relying on his previous memories. Who were they that dwelled in dark places and attacked by surprise? The marine concentrated and looked around the room, searching for clues. Right in front of him was one of the coffins and there was something that was not quite right about it. He stared carefully at it – the upper right angle appeared distorted, as if an irregular lens was positioned in front of it. The thing felt that it had been spotted and charged towards the marine who emptied the shotgun into it. The noise that followed indicated that the demon was lying dead on the floor. Kyle touched it carefully with the gun's barrel – there was flesh and it was partially invisible. Well, well, a specter!
The marine was sure that, for reasons unknown, there was only one, or probably just a couple of demons on each floor. This was something he could not understand. He had two possible explanations in mind – it was either that the denizens of the crypts had gone somewhere else, or that they were very few in the first place, and their numbers were diminished even more after the desperate assault of the Hell Knights. The Corporal was starting to think that the system of crypts had a specific purpose, beyond merely serving as a dwelling place and an outpost. The Heresiarch and the souls that were stashed in the "library", as well as the mysterious coffins – they were brought to the crypts for a purpose, as well as the Ice Revenant, who was the one in charge. And, finally, the Gatekeeper somehow fit into the entire complicated scheme of events, pursuing goals the human could not yet comprehend. For the moment, Kyle considered the demon to be on his side, even though he seemed to be trying to manipulate the marine.
Finally, it seemed that the journey through the crypt was over – the corridor ended in a chamber where a statue and an altar were the only objects of interest. The statue of a warrior held a sword on its two outstretched arms – it looked as if it was offering Kyle to take the weapon. On the altar rested a finely cut human skull, yellow in color. Alone in the room, Kyle could vaguely feel someone else's presence.
"Time is running out, human... Accept the challenge... Pick up the weapon."
The Gatekeeper's voice was very low and sounded like it came from very far away. Accept the challenge... he had to pick up the crude and terribly unbalanced sword in order to meet his enemy. This was not a problem as he could easily throw the useless piece of iron away and teach the barbarian some modern shotgun manners. Kyle moved to the statue and grabbed the sword firmly in his arm. Cold wind blew through the chamber, as cracks started to appear on the surface of the skull. Corporal Harlan, feeling more confident after defeating the Heresiarch, smiled and tried to throw away the sword.
It was stuck to his hand! The initial surprise was replaced with annoyance – apparently some kind of demonic curse kept the blunt piece of metal in his grasp. Accepting the fact that he would have to shoot with the left hand, Kyle was utterly shocked to discover that all of his other weapons had vanished. He had nothing but the damaged blade for the coming battle.
Just as Kyle fully realized what had happened, a tall figure materialized in the room. Long black beard, long black hair. Blue eyes and yellow teeth. Full suit of black body armor and a sword, at least three times bigger than the one the marine had. The warlord looked at Harlan, a mocking smile glowing on his face.
"How sweet. Awakened by a pathetic wimp, barely able to hold his own sword! The time has come for me, and my warriors, to finally repay our debt to Lord Baphomet! As for you, whelp..."
"Who the Hell are you, handsome, and what is it that makes you so arrogant?" Kyle murmured, trying not to laugh at the sight of the medieval imitation of a soldier.
"You are so calm as you dare speak like that to Arcaron, son of Olaric, cousin of Heinrich I? Killing you should entertain me."
As the last word faded away, an incredibly powerful swing of the sword followed, so sudden that Kyle hardly managed to duck and avoid the blade, which shattered the statue that used to hold Kyle's blade. With a loud roar of fury, the barbarian charged towards the marine, clearly intending to impale him. Kyle could do nothing but quickly jump to one side and roll over, desperately thinking of a way to defeat such an adversary, without any weapons, and with that rusted thing stuck to his hand. He did not have much time to think as his opponent was already preparing to cut him in half with another mighty swing. The warlord's sword left deep marks on the walls, as it hit the rocks among hundreds of sparks. The foam at the barbarian's mouth was not quite calming, as the marine realized that the tight chamber had turned into a deadly trap. His only choice was to retreat to the armory and hope to find something more useful there.
Despite the heavy sword and all the armor, the warlord ran quite fast, and the marine was forced to avoid the blade a few more times in the hall with the coffins. The enemy was, without any doubt, very experienced, very fast, and unnaturally strong. The warlord could predict Harlan's moves fairly well, and move to block and attack him relentlessly. Kyle managed to evade death for a few minutes, but he started to get tired. He tried to hit his opponent several times, but the barbarian was always faster and blocked the marine's hits with ease, always followed by mocking laughter. One surprising strike broke Kyle's sword, leaving only a few centimeters of rusted metal, still stuck to the marine's hand. When there was no way to defeat the warlord using common ways, Kyle decided that he had to resort to something more cunning.
Avoiding yet another deadly swing, the marine fell to a position where one of the coffins stood between him and the raging enemy. Utilizing the convenient opportunity, Kyle kicked the coffin with full force, launching it straight into the warlord's chest. He fell down under the weight of the coffin, earning Kyle a few valuable seconds to run into the armory and think of a plan of action. Back in the hall of weapons, the marine looked around, frantically searching for something, anything... his eyes accidentally passed over the ceiling, where something was affixed with enormous chains. A giant battering ram, made of stone and steel – very heavy and positioned to be swung at full speed towards the door to the coffin chamber. There was no time to lose – Kyle quickly climbed on one chain that hung from the ceiling and sat on the battering ram. He could already hear the heavy steps of the warlord, coming closer to the door, and his rambling, among which he could only distinguish the word "coward." Praying that he had calculated the moment correctly, Kyle cut two of the chains using the last piece of his broken sword. Riding the siege device, flying at an enormous speed towards the door, and hoping he would not crash into the floor, the marine swung the largest weapon he had ever seen.
The synchrony was amazing. The last thing the warlord saw in his life was a giant steel-clad stone mass that flew right into his face. Kyle frowned when he heard the disgusting sound that accompanied the shattering of the man's skull and ribcage. A tremor shook the whole crypt, then it was all silent again...
The battle was over, and the pathetic remains of the sword fell from Kyle's shaking hands. He looked at it with a smile – it actually did help in defeating the warlord. The marine slowly walked back to the altar room, panting heavily. Just as the previous time, he had nearly avoided certain death. If Destiny itself protected him, like the Gatekeeper claimed, then it did a pretty good job. Feeling somewhat relieved, Kyle was also quite terrified at the perspective of a possible future battle with an Ice Revenant. If he could...
"Leave these useless worries aside, human. For now, you will not need to meet the Ice Weasel in battle. Waste no time... Return to the altar chamber and collect your prize. Then return to the main cavern, and use the black scroll to enter the lowest crypt of all – the Crypt of Eternal Night, the deepest and most secret of these unhallowed halls. You will not need your weapons in that place. There... Destiny shall unfold."
The marine would certainly like it more if he could have his shotgun back, yet it was nowhere to be found. Reluctantly, he had to trust the Gatekeeper once more... When he got back to the final chamber, Kyle was surprised to see that the altar had disappeared. Underneath it, in a depression of the stone floor, rested a strange-looking dagger, its wave-shaped blade covered with mysterious runes and arcane symbols. The Corporal picked it up carefully and put it in the backpack, where the book from the Heresiarch's crypt was.
Just as he left the altar chamber, Kyle heard the voice of the barbarian warlord once again. It was very low and ghostly, yet clearly distinctive:
"Your victory does not change anything, little human. I fell and cannot complete my task... but the creatures that dwell in the crypt below will force you to do it. There is nothing you can do... Your only chance to change destiny will only appear on the holy mountain's summit..."
The voice faded away, leaving Kyle confused. What he heard did not bode well, and he had no idea what holy mountain his former enemy talked about. The marine let out a deep sigh. For the thousandth time in the past few months, he was in a situation where nothing was clear. He wished he could meet the Gatekeeper once again and let the demon tell him some more so that he could understand just what was going on. There was no time to waste as the Major was still missing, and Dr. Stalker was undoubtedly working on something nasty above the surface. The ominous black scroll gave the elevator life, and it lowered to the last stop of its stone shaft. An arch of black marble, without any ornamentation on it, led into a dark crypt, faintly lit by green crystals, which emanated an eerie glow.
Eternal night, eternal pain, or eternal damnation – whatever awaited Kyle Harlan, he was prepared to face it once again, just as in the day he boldly descended into the gaping maw of Hell itself.