Lucian POV
The chamber was a sanctuary of shadows, lit only by the faint, pulsing glow of the
three relic fragments I had painstakingly gathered. They rested on the cold,
unyielding stone table, their jagged edges catching the dim light in fractured
glimmers. The air around them was dense with energy—alive, almost sentient—as if
the relics were aware of what was to come.
I traced a finger along the edge of the largest shard, feeling the faint vibration
beneath my touch. This was no ordinary object. It was power condensed into form,
and it had cost me more than blood to bring it here. My chest burned faintly where
the mark of the Demon King lay, as though reminding me of the debt I owed.
Still, I couldn't shake the silence that pressed down on me. It wasn't the kind of
peace that comes from accomplishment. No, this was heavier—pregnant with the
weight of what was yet to unfold.
"You're late," I muttered, pressing a hand to the mark on my chest. It flared under
my palm, the heat sharp and biting. Shadows in the room seemed to ripple, drawn
toward me as if summoned by some unseen current.
From the darkness, he came—less a figure and more a force that materialized into
shape. The Demon King's form solidified like smoke drawn together, his glowing
crimson eyes meeting mine with a mixture of amusement and menace.
"You summoned me," he said, his voice low and smooth, like a blade drawn from its
sheath. "I trust your efforts have borne fruit?"
I gestured to the relics. "All three pieces. As promised."
The Demon King stepped closer, his gaze sweeping over the fragments. The air grew
colder with his presence, the glow of the relics flickering as if reacting to him. His
lips curved into a smirk, sharp and knowing.
"What now?" I asked, my voice clipped. "How do I unlock the door?"
"Patience, Lucian," he said, his tone a mockery of calm. "The relics are not yet whole.
You must mold them into one."
I frowned, crossing my arms. "Mold them? Explain."
He chuckled, the sound low and guttural, echoing in the chamber like a predator's
growl. "These relics are not mere objects, Lucian. They are fragments of divine will.
To transform them into the key, you must forge them. Not with fire and tools, but
with intention."
I arched a brow, unimpressed. "Spare me the cryptic nonsense."
The Demon King's smirk widened, his eyes glinting like embers. "It means, Lucian,
that the fire required is not one that burns metal, but one that burns within. You
must imbue them with your resolve, your ambition, your hatred. Only then will they
bend to your will and become whole."
The relics seemed to flicker in response to his words, their glow pulsing faintly in
rhythm with my heartbeat. I felt a pull toward them, as if they were testing my
resolve even now.
"And once it's done?" I asked, my voice steady.
The Demon King lifted a hand, gesturing toward the relics. "Once the key is forged,
you must wait. The next solar eclipse will mark the moment of alignment. Only under
the veil of absolute darkness will the key reveal its full power. Only then will it open
the door to your destiny."
A flicker of doubt tugged at the edge of my mind. "And what's the price?"
His smirk faltered for the briefest moment, replaced by something darker, heavier.
"There is always a price, Lucian. The power you seek will demand more from you than
you can imagine."
His words hung in the air like a challenge, daring me to reconsider. I met his gaze,
unflinching. "The price doesn't matter," I said quietly, the conviction in my voice as
unyielding as stone. "The world will bleed before I stop now."
The Demon King's smirk returned, full of satisfaction. "Good," he said, his form
beginning to dissolve into the shadows. "Let us see how far your resolve carries you."
As he faded, the weight of his presence lifted, leaving me alone in the chamber once
more. The relics sat silently on the table, their glow steady now, as though awaiting
my next move.
I reached out, taking the largest shard into my hand. Its surface was cold, almost
biting, but it warmed under my touch. The other pieces seemed to hum faintly, their
energies calling out to one another. They would bend to my will. I would make sure of
it.
The chill of the night air hit me as I stepped out of the chamber, my cloak billowing
around me. Above, the sky stretched vast and infinite, stars scattered like shards
of glass. The moon hung low, its pale light casting long shadows across the ground.
I tilted my head back, eyes fixed on it. Soon, that light would be extinguished,
swallowed by the shadow of the sun. The eclipse was coming.
I glanced down at the relics concealed beneath my cloak. Their weight felt heavier
than it should, as if they carried more than just the promise of power. But no matter
the burden, I would carry it.
The world had already bled for less. It would bleed again before I stopped.
The door will open. And whatever waits on the other side, I will claim it.