Chapter 30

It was as if he were transported back in time.

Aachen was in ruins, the destruction wholesale and complete. Nothing was spared. A haze of smoke, ash and dust hung in the air, the glow of the fires visible for miles. Misshaped figures wandered the city, undead raised from the thick negative energy, while Fiends and Demons circled overhead, pouncing on the few survivors that still remained.

Wil choked on the smell, sulfur, and soot, rotting bodies of the dead and the thick blood scent of the massacre that had occurred.

He had been here less than a week ago, visiting Mara. The city was thriving then, filled with people and families, the wealthy, and the poor, all seeking to rebuild what had been lost.

They entered the city under the cover of darkness and invisibility spells. To conserve mana, Astrid had handed Kathryn and Markus talismans that would cloak them, while Wil made do with his Elven Armor. It blended with the shadows of the outdoors better than any invisibility spell could, hiding him from sight.

Wil traveled from shadow to shadow, the city filled with pools of darkness from the fires that burned.

Serena was being held under the city in a series of tunnels, but Moloch hadn’t provided any clues as to where the entrance was. These were the same tunnels the first group of Cultists had used, decades ago. The only indication Wil had of where to find it was the knowledge that they had been connected to one of the noble houses when Aachen first fell.

The mansions had been built on a small rise, near the center of the city. During the rebuild, the rise had been flattened to provide material to fill holes and cracks in the ground from the battle with the Lich. Hopefully, the entrance was still somewhere accessible and easy to find.

Wil needn’t have worried, it was a simple matter to find the entrance, since it was guarded by a host of undead. Thousands of zombies and walking undead surrounded a large hole in the ground. Lit by torches and braziers, he may have hesitated to enter if it hadn’t been for the small group of cultists entering while he watched, dragging carts filled with captured prisoners.

“There it is.” Wil whispered to the others as they watched from a toppled building. It had once been an estate, from the few features that remained untouched. Its opulent façade was covered in black soot from a fire that had ripped through it.

“We won’t be able to sneak in, even with invisibility spells. The undead will sense us if we’re too close.” Kathryn advised. The cleric had donned armor for this adventure, dark blue leathers with the symbol of Secundus prominent on the front.

“We need a distraction.” Markus stated, looking around at the area. “Echo can make a disturbance, drawing them away from the entrance. He won’t last long, not against those numbers.”

“He’ll have help.” Wil stated, pulling out the Elemental Emerald.

“You won’t be able to retrieve it again, Wil.” Astrid said, looking at the emerald with regret. The elemental had accompanied Wil for years, but everything came to an end.

“I know.” Wil whispered, placing the emerald on the ground. A small creature rose from the ground, humanoid and made of rock and stone.

“You heard?” Wil asked, waiting for the small elemental to nod. “Good. We’re counting on you and Echo, it’s the only chance we have of rescuing Serena.”

“Distraction.” It spoke, its voice surprisingly deep for its small stature.

“Exactly. I’ll try to retrieve you after all of this is over, but…no guarantees.” Wil said.

“Worth doing. Save Serena.” It said, before sinking into the ground. There was enough ambient mana and negative energy in the ground and air to sustain it for a short period of time, enough for them to sneak in without draining Wil.

From behind Markus, Echo appeared, a translucent duplicate of Markus. It a moment, his body seemed to solidify, becoming as real as any one of them. With a nod, it vanished, disappearing to follow the elemental.

“Get ready.” Markus said, taking the lead. They would only have a short time to make it to the entrance of the tunnel.

An intense rumbling shook the ground as the Elemental erupted from the earth, its body reaching forty feet in height. Roaring in anger, it slammed its massive arms against the gathered Fiends, sending bodies flying.

The slow moving undead, their limited awareness recognizing a threat, slowly marched towards the Elemental. Thousands of bodies pressed against each other, pushing forward, only to be struck by stone limbs.

As a distraction, it worked marvelously, the elemental smashed through their lines, drawing their attention. For a moment, it almost seemed as if it could conquer everything in its path, until a line of fire streaked across the sky. It pierced the elemental’s chest, striking the emerald in the center of its body.

With a rush of mana, the gemstone fractured. An explosion of magic sent a shockwave through the area, destroying any undead nearby and flattening the few ruins still standing. The elemental’s stone body slowly toppled, crashing onto the ground, before lying still.

Wil, witnessing the death of a friend, squeezed his eyes shut, mourning its loss, before opening them, his gaze focused on the opening before him.

“Wait, there are still guards. It’s Echo’s turn.” Markus said, gripping Wil’s forearm tightly.

On either side of the passageway, Red skinned Fiends watched the chaos of the Elemental’s attack. It had drawn away the thousands of undead, but nearly a dozen fiends remained. From the side, a flash of magic shot across the ground. Crimson red, it steaked forward before smashing into a pair of guards.

Echo materialized, a blood red sword gripped in his hands. In response, the Fiends took to the air, their leathery wings carrying them forward. Leaping away, Echo danced across the scattered ruins left by the Elemental’s fall. His movements were followed by slashes of his sword, each taking limbs and spraying blood from his pursuers.

He was holding his own, until a similar streak of fire to the one that destroyed the elemental shot across the sky. Echo lifted his sword in response, slashing at the beam. The two forces collided above the ruins, a shockwave ripping the ground apart, streaks of fire and crimson mana fell around them, burning through the few remaining undead.

Out of the explosion, Echo shot ahead, an arm missing, his body translucent as his mana faded. From behind him, a large, Red-skinned Devil pursued him, a whip of flame in its hands. Their battle took them into the distance, out of sight of Wil and the others.

“Now!” Markus hissed, dashing forward. The now unguarded entrance loomed ahead, a hole in the ground with a path worn by Cultist feet and carts.

Scrambling down the path, Wil took one last look at the blasted surface, before ducking into the passage.

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

The chanting echoed off the roughly hewn passage walls. Monotone and indistinct, Wil couldn’t understand the words being spoken. Each time they faded to silence, the negative energy would rise sharply.

The passage was dry, the ground hard packed and well worn. Abandoned articles of clothing littered the path, ripped and torn, some covered with dried blood. Only a few meters into the path, they found the first body.

A prisoner, it had been a young man, his body white with blood loss from a gaping wound on his chest. They had thrown him aside, likely from one of the carts, and left him lying there. The negative energy was corrupting his flesh, the wounds blackening, and tar had begun to form under his eyes.

Astrid slowed her steps, staring at the body, before Wil stepped beside her, drawing her away from the sight.

“There’s nothing you can do.” Wil whispered quietly, urging her to walk on. With a last regretful look at the dead man, she hurried her pace after the others.

They came to an enormous chamber, the carts used to deliver the prisoners lined one of the far walls. Empty, the prisoners themselves were in large cages, huddled together in fear.

In the center, a colossal stone pyramid had been erected, with a large altar at the top. Hanging from the ceiling above the pyramid, a symbol of ‘The Dark that Waits’ hung, a single, lidless eyes with black tentacles.

Standing in front of the altar was a robed Cultist, a prisoner strapped to a slab. The chanting, which had been steady for a minute or more, ended. With a thrust of his knife, the leader stabbed the prisoner, removing the heart.

Tossing the heart onto a pile beneath the altar, the Cultist gestured for the body to be removed, before another prisoner was dragged from the cage to be hauled in front of him.

Staring at the room, Wil could see the wards powering the demonic portal etched into the walls, floor and ceiling of the chamber. Lines of power burned through them, all leading directly into the pyramid.

If Serena was anywhere, she was inside the structure before them.