Summoning Ritual (3)
“Many sacrifices were made, but in return, the grand plan has been fulfilled.”
The Guardians of the Seven Crowns. Among them, the faction loyal to the third prince.
Kaprenna Zidkov, an elder of the faction and a dark sorcerer who had carved out a small domain, thought this.
At least, until five minutes ago, when those meddlesome intruders appeared deep within the cavern.
“Everything was going perfectly.”
They had deceived the moderates by using a decoy and infiltrated the party disguised as ordinary members.
Even when they entered the labyrinth through Falcion, nothing seemed amiss.
What they hadn’t anticipated was that the Tsar’s special forces had hired an exceptionally skilled guide.
Because of this, three out of ten parties were wiped out early on, but such sacrifices had been expected.
However.
”…That barbarian warrior with the holy sword started to ruin everything.”
Kaprenna gritted his teeth.
Even when he learned that the warrior had led the special forces into the labyrinth, he hadn’t considered it a grave issue.
The first floor of the labyrinth had random teleportation points, so they might have descended quickly by sheer luck.
But closing the distance in the scorching desert of the second floor was practically impossible.
Yet somehow, the warrior crossed the desert in an instant, annihilating the forces that were ambushing the vanguard.
“Thanks to Lord Kalkas’s guidance, we managed to delay the pursuit a bit.”
With the time they bought, they barely secured the core of the vengeful spirits, eliminated the moderates’ spies, and performed the ritual just in time.
A complex ritual to summon a high-ranking demon, executed flawlessly without a single mistake.
“Now there’s no turning back. The grand plan is a success…”
The 369 hearts they had brought in a subspace bag, believed by the moderates to be mere sacrifices, were the catalyst for the ritual.
The potent and malevolent will contained within the core of the vengeful spirits used the magic flowing from the hearts as a tool to hunt the living.
It would take only half a day for thousands of Tsar’s citizens to fall under the curse of the vengeful spirits.
Offering the souls that died in agony as a tribute for the demon summoning would take just two hours.
The ritual was nearing its end.
Canceling a fully activated demon summoning ritual was impossible.
There were ways to slightly alter the outcome, but only a highly skilled dark sorcerer could do so, so he wasn’t worried.
Even knowing the rumored warrior had entered the cave, he was confident the grand plan was complete.
Or so he thought.
”…How can the wielder of the holy sword dabble in such vile dark magic?”
“What, are you spitting in your own face?”
The warrior before him, smirking as he drew the holy sword, was both its master and a dark sorcerer.
A true dark sorcerer capable of opening the gates of hell.
Moreover, he possessed the ‘Blood Ritual Dagger,’ a treasure every dark sorcerer coveted.
Sssss…
A massive amount of resentment and souls flowed from the dagger, overlaying the hell gate summoning spell on the magic circle.
Creeeeak—
Through the torn rift in space, the ominous shadow of hell flickered.
Wooooom…
The resonance began.
The magic circle and the gate of hell started to align their vibrations.
The massive magic circle installed in the cavern.
Its role was to pay the price of summoning and transfer the summoned entity through the gate of hell.
By now, dark sorcerers at the Tsar’s borders would be waiting with the gates of hell open.
According to the plan, Kalkas was to be summoned to the surface through that gate.
If not for the gate of hell resonating with the summoning ritual, open right above the magic circle.
Clink, clink…
The sound of chains echoed throughout the cavern. A biting chill instantly formed icicles on the walls and ceiling.
Soon, from the massive rift nearly five meters in diameter, thousands of chains poured out like a wave.
“Run, get out of the way! Gah!”
“Please, spare me!”
The wave of chains flooded over the dark sorcerers standing on the magic circle, leaving them no time to escape.
The elder, who barely managed to create a protective barrier to save his life, looked up with a trembling jaw.
[…]
A hill of massive chains loomed over him.
Tens of thousands of chains exuding a white chill. Between them, two blue eyes glinted.
The overwhelming presence pressed down on his neck and shoulders. The cold that pierced his throat made it sting.
From the icy aura that stabbed his lungs, the demon’s displeasure was palpable.
[Speak.]
“Y-yes, yes.”
[Why am I in the labyrinth?]
“Th-that is…”
It was because of the unplanned gate of hell. More precisely, the dagger that opened the gate, or rather, the warrior who threw it.
The elder opened his mouth to say so. But the chain wrapped around his neck was faster.
[I can guess without you saying. You didn’t even prepare for such a shallow trick. A disloyal subordinate.]
“N-no, it’s not…”
[Then you were unprepared, you incompetent fool.]
The chain coiled around his neck. His torso, arms, and legs were bound by thick chains.
Like a giant snake constricting its prey, the chains slowly tightened around the dark sorcerer’s throat.
His frozen skin began to crack and fall away. The high resistance of his artifact robe was useless against the hellish cold.
[No answer. You must know you’ll be punished either way.]
The minion, pale with fear, nodded.
[This time, you got it right.]
The demon laughed cruelly. The dark sorcerer struggled briefly, but that was all.
Clink—
The chain wrapped around his head, encircling his entire body in two or three layers.
Crunch!
In the next moment, the dark sorcerer’s body was reduced to a splash of blood.
”…We need to run.”
Sasha said, having witnessed the dark sorcerer crushed like rotten ham. Dalen shrugged.
“Where to?”
“That doesn’t matter. If we stay here, we’ll all die.”
“And if we run, we live?”
Sasha fell silent. Dalen chuckled. He retrieved his axe from the elder’s crushed head and held it in his left hand.
Clink, clink…
The gate of hell continued to spew chains relentlessly.
It already filled one corner of the massive cavern, but considering Kalkas’s true form, twice as many chains would still pour out.
Dalen trudged toward the mountain of chains.
Sasha called out from behind him.
”…Aren’t you afraid?”
Well.
Dalen didn’t answer.
It would be a lie to say he wasn’t scared.
This world wasn’t a game made of graphics.
The blood splattered had a vividness that couldn’t be replicated by a physics engine beyond a monitor.
The breath exhaled with death carried a sense of futility and eeriness he had never encountered as a modern man.
Though he had improved significantly after establishing his domain, he still occasionally had nightmares.
Dreams of being helplessly stabbed to death by a goblin’s dagger. Dreams of being crushed in a demon’s grasp.
Dreams of perishing in the flames of battle. Dreams of being crushed by an evil god at the brink of the labyrinth’s end.
“A scream.”
It was a scream from a corner of his heart, the cry of a thirty-something man.
A powerless wail of a man who could do nothing but be consumed by fear in a world steeped in blood and slaughter.
Even after becoming economically independent in society, he was still a child at heart, despite being over thirty.
Falling into a world he had only seen beyond a monitor, even after gaining a superhuman body, that hadn’t changed.
“But.”
Now, after several years, he could feel it, even if just a little.
That he was no longer an ordinary, chubby office worker from Earth.
Once, he fought merely to survive, with no other choice.
Now, there were many more reasons.
He grew stronger through battle, and at the end of that strength, he found victory. Sometimes, he even enjoyed the fight, looking forward to a day he might return.
In a life where he couldn’t predict tomorrow, where did this attitude of envisioning his own future come from?
Was it because he had adapted to his changed body and power? Or was it an unconscious shift in identity?
“Pointless thoughts.”
He didn’t know. He didn’t even want to dig into it.
What mattered was that this change in mindset applied to all his decisions.
This time was no different.
Stopping Kalkas’s summoning was impossible. So he sought the next best option.
A demon summoned to the surface would devour thousands of lives, calling forth more armies to its throne.
Facing such a fully prepared foe was the worst scenario. It was better to fight one-on-one in this cramped cave.
He repeatedly designed for the best outcome. If that wasn’t possible, he chose the path with the highest chance of success.
Hundreds of indirect experiences and a boldness from an unknown source made it possible.
The fears of his old self were something to consider later.
[Oh?]
As Dalen drew his holy sword and approached, the massive hill of chains began to move slowly.
Deep within the thousands of chains, two blue eyes glinted with a strange light.
A sensation, much like the one he felt when facing Jinryong, surged through his body, leaving him rigid from head to toe.
“The Curse of Binding Chains.”
In an instant, his limbs felt as heavy as lead. It wasn’t just his body; even his soul seemed weighed down by an overwhelming lethargy.
[Mmph! Mmmph!]
As the demon began its forced feast in the pocket dimension, the oppressive weight lifted, becoming as light as a feather.
[Ah, so it’s true you made Enaxagous’s experiment your subordinate. How could this be…]
The pile of chains muttered. Dalen didn’t stop moving.
Unlike him, who was practically immune to the curse, his companions would find it deadly.
“The master of the Chain Throne, the demon Kalkas, has three phases.”
In the game, the key to defeating him was how quickly you could get through the first phase, dominated by curses and spells.
Clang—clang!
A thin chain aimed for his heart, but an axe, as if guided by will, easily deflected it.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
Waves of chains trying to encircle him were all cut down by his holy sword, imbued with sacred fire.
Hundreds of chains flew at him from every direction—front, back, above, below.
The scene was reminiscent of the time he faced the grand priest possessed by a demon’s avatar.
But the difference was clear.
Kalkas’s chains were far sturdier than any fleshy tentacle, and the cold emanating from them was enough to harm even Dalen’s skin.
However, Dalen had grown stronger too.
Any wounds he sustained healed in the blink of an eye, and the lightning strikes he once struggled to unleash now poured endlessly from his holy sword.
Boom—boom!
Chain fragments scattered in all directions. He charged forward without hesitation.
His target was the center of the chain mass, between the gleaming blue eyes.
There were two ways to get past the first phase.
Either endure until all the thousands of chains covering Kalkas’s body were used and broken, or destroy the staff that allowed him to control all those chains from his throne.
Dalen’s choice was obvious—the latter.
Swish!
Amidst the onslaught of chains, he caught sight of the staff’s gleaming crystal orb.
In an instant, his holy sword, gripped with both hands, intertwined with flashes of light and swirling winds.
Boom!
Beyond the tip of his swung sword, the light led the way.
Whoosh!
The energy of sacred fire and destruction mixed together, expanding the space as he rode the lightning’s wake.
[What the…!]
In that fleeting moment, the staff was fully exposed. Dalen flicked his fingers, summoning his axe.
Swish—
He swung the axe toward the closing curtain of chains.
The axe veered off course, striking the crystal orb at the staff’s end with precision.
Crack! Crack—crack!
The sound of shattering was vivid. The crystal orb shattered into countless fragments.
[My staff…!]
Whoosh!
From within those fragments, an ominous light burst forth, as if the gates of hell had opened.
When the blinding light finally subsided, what lay before him was not a void, but a jungle of metal.
Phase two had begun.