Groaning, Draven shook his head to clear the disorientation and blood in his eyes.
He staggered to his feet. Looking back, he narrowed his eyes, following the sound of footsteps; he could barely make out the figure of a short humanoid being trudging toward him.
Draven guessed who that was.
'I can't defeat her if it becomes a frontal confrontation. Screw it! Let's hope it doesn't come to that.'
"Where's the legacy?" her raspy voice jolted him.
Of course, it was Sera.
"I don't have it," Draven replied.
He heard a chuckle in reply.
His brain was working overtime as he felt a frontal confrontation might be unavoidable.
"If you tell me, I will let you go, and even give you the money for your treatment," she persuaded.
"I don't have it. If I had it, why would I lie? I can't use the legacy after all!"
She halted in her tracks. "So, you led us here to kill us?"
"No," Draven replied, locking onto her barely clear figure, still obscured by the darkness. "The plan was to lead you to this place, but 'Reece' happened. However, it seems like the doctor lied, or she didn't get the clear information because I found nothing. Only more illusions. Just like how it seems there's a sun—thought to be the legacy—behind the mountain, I thought the legacy was in the hole. But it was all an illusion!"
A tense silence ensued.
"So, no legacy?" she questioned calmly.
"No legacy."
And another nerve-racking silence followed.
Draven clutched his weapon and vial, waiting for her response.
"Then… you should die!!!" She lunged at him with blurring speed.
Draven tossed the bottle of Berserker Z2 into his mouth a moment before a hand clawed his neck and slammed him into the wall.
A muffled groan escaped his lips. Finally, he saw her clearly, and she was barely recognizable. Her face was a grotesque canvas of crimson, streaked with blood from countless wounds and bruises. Her armor was marred with cracks and broken in various places.
"You see me now? This is your judgement!"
He shivered at the maddened ferocity in her eyes.
'She wouldn't let me go,' he concluded, and made his decision.
Draven bit hard on the vial and shattered it. He gulped the slimy, bitter fluid, along with some glass shards.
Immediately, a sharp, searing heat flared in his chest. His heart hammered against his ribs. Draven could feel the molten blood surging wildly, as his muscles tensed. Something was building up in him.
A sharp pain from his nape snapped Draven out of the intoxicating rush of his spiking strength.
He raised his dagger, but her hand clamped down on his wrist and pinned it against the tunnel wall.
Draven twisted violently, but she slammed his hand harder into the wall.
Her grip around his neck tightened.
"Now, where is the map?" she asked in a whisper. "Don't let me ask you again. If you don't tell me, there's a—"
Draven spat the remaining glass shard into her face, making her recoil. With a flick of his wrist, he lobbed his dagger, snatched it with his free left hand, and plunged it into her exposed neck. With a tug, he drew it across her throat.
She reeled back with widened eyes, her hands pressing against her neck, trying to stop the bleeding, but it was a futile effort. Draven scrambled away from her in the little space he created.
She suddenly smiled at him, which was eerie with her bloody visage and bleeding throat, before collapsing.
He waited for ten seconds to confirm her death. When nothing happened, he exhaled, his tensed muscles relaxing. He turned and made his way for the exit.
"What a rollercoaster ride…" he mumbled.
He had just walked a few steps when his vision became woozy.
Draven shook his head, but instead of clearing, it worsened. He wobbled.
Feeling an uncomfortable trickle on his nape, he stretched his hand, wiped it, and brought it to his face.
His pupils constricted at the sight of green liquid on his fingers.
'Poison?'
Now he understood her smile, because he was joining her soon.
Draven quickened his steps to get treatment, but he could barely maintain his balance. His eyes were becoming heavier with each passing moment.
He battled the dizziness and encroaching darkness. Every step was a battle as he made his way toward the entrance, but despite his will to survive, his body couldn't keep up.
After ten more steps, he collapsed on the floor. Darkness slowly consumed his vision.
'Irony. Nobody received it in the end, but I was so close… I bet nobody would miss me. Well, it's not like I'll miss anybody…'
A panel flickered at that moment.
[SYNCHRONIZATION AND AWAKENING COMPLETE!]
It was like fate was mocking his effort to survive, displaying how he almost survived the sickness only to be killed by another thing.
Draven felt the urge to laugh but was too weak to utter any sound.
'I guess my death… was already a set stone… before today…'
Only his fragmented thoughts accompanied him through his final moments in the world.
The two bodies lay not too far from each other.
***
Draven's eyes snapped open, and he gasped for breath. He quickly sat up, coughing while breathing laboriously.
After a few minutes, his breathing regulated. He looked around, and his jaw dropped in shock.
He was still in the tunnel, not far from the dead body of Sera.
"I was dead…" His murmur trailed off as he found the situation confusing.
Unbeknownst to him, his eyes flickered with a sinister red glow, but it faded as quickly.
Dazed, Draven wiped the dust from his face, his mind racing to piece together what had happened.
'How did I come back? Was it the Soul Mystic legacy? Was it really a poison? No! It must be a poison; Sera wouldn't make that mistake of giving me a sleeping pill—'
His thoughts were abruptly cut off as a burning pain erupted from his right chest, forcing a sharp cry from his lips.
Acting on instinct, Draven raised his shirt. On his right chest were multiple tiny symbols shining brightly. He endured the agony, his body trembling as the light grew brighter and brighter.
Finally, the glow dimmed, and Draven exhaled sharply. He panted, trying to steady himself.
His gaze fell to the newly formed mark: etched into his flesh was a chaotic cluster of unreadable black symbols up close, but from a distance, they arranged to form a black star.
Before he could process what he was seeing, a panel flashed before his eyes:
–––
[Curse of Voidhell: You have cheated death by drinking the Wine of Resurrection. The underworld has branded your soul, for you shall know no rest in death—only eternal damnation.
One Final Life; One Final Death. No Grave For The Cursed!]
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