The moment Leo activated the spell, a surge of dark light burst out of the orb, hurling him backward. He was flung through Edgarth's door and reappeared where he had been before, but the force didn't stop there. Momentum carried him several meters back until he slammed into Elna, who had been moving to intercept him.
The impact nearly knocked them both off balance, but before they could tumble farther, Briva's massive wings spread behind them, catching their fall and holding them in place.
"Are you okay?" Elna asked, steadying Leo in her arms.
Leo nodded, his chest heaving with ragged breaths.
"Brace yourselves!" Ryan shouted.
The wave of energy was already rushing toward them. But before it could strike, Luciana stepped forward. A thin, almost transparent sphere of blood expanded outward from her body, enveloping them all. The barrier shimmered and shuddered, but it held. The wave slammed into it and dissipated harmlessly.
But the danger wasn't over.
The corrupted Goddess lifted her gaze to the darkness above, her face hollow and expressionless. From the orb in her chest, thin white veins began to spread, crawling across her flesh like cracks in stone. With each pulse of the orb, beating like a grotesque heart, the lines grew wider, spreading until they covered her entire body.
Thoom. Thoom.
The sound shook the ground beneath them.
Thoom.
With the final pulse, a massive explosion of white light erupted from her body, blinding everyone for several seconds. The force roared against Luciana's barrier, but the sphere of blood held fast, shielding them from the full brunt of the blast.
When the blinding light faded they shadows were gone and they found themselves standing inside what looked like a vast church. Its stone pillars stretched upward, supporting a heavy ceiling of carved stone. The chamber was immense, but not endless; from every side, pieces of the walls had collapsed, leaving gaps where broken masonry littered the ground.
At the center of the ruined hall pulsed the white orb of the Goddess, beating with raw, radiant power.
'Bring the orb with you,' Ilandra's voice whispered in Leo's mind. 'Though it is cleansed, this city hides a deeper corruption. My orb must not remain here.'
Leo stepped forward, the others following close behind. The orb's presence weighed on him, its power pressing against his skin. Something like this was far too great to store in a magic bag. After wrestling with himself, he saw only one option. He opened a portal to his domain, sweat gathering on his brow as he forced the orb through. The effort drained more of his mana, but it vanished safely into the rift.
"What did you do with the orb?" Edgarth asked, his tone sharp.
"It's gone to the Creator," Leo said, catching his breath. "It will be safer there. But we need to move quickly. This place is still dangerous."
Ryan pointed toward a chamber at the far end of the hall. "First let's check that room. The magic coming from it is… strong."
Even from a distance, the surge of enchantment was unmistakable. It had to be the city's storage vault, preserved from the great war of the gods.
They entered cautiously. The room was overflowing with riches, ancient gold coins scattered across the floor, relics and artifacts stacked in alcoves and along the walls. The sight made them pause, eyes widening at the sheer scale of what had been left behind.
Before anyone dared touch a thing, Arthur activated his Ring of the Seer's Radiance and whispered a Reveal spell. The magic shimmered faintly across the chamber, but no traps revealed themselves. Only then did they begin to explore.
Arlasan was the only one absent, his concern fixed on Varic. He quickly found him safe, sitting quietly near one of the fallen pillars, untouched by the shift in their surroundings.
With Arthur's help, they began identifying the treasures. Luciana reached for a ring, slipping it onto her pale finger. It was the Ring of Endless Hunger, an artifact that granted immense stamina and healing at the cost of never knowing satiety, driving its wearer to crave flesh and blood. A curse for most, but to her it was a gift. With this ring and her vampiric healing, she would never tire, never weaken. The thought of becoming nearly invincible curved her lips into the faintest smile.
Edgarth's eyes settled on a pair of worn, silver-trimmed boots resting atop a cracked pedestal. Boots of the Wind Walker. When he slipped them on, the magic hummed to life, filling the air with a faint whistle like rushing air. They would grant him speed and agility beyond mortal limits, even allowing short bursts of gliding flight. But the enchantment carried a price, each use shaved away at the wearer's bones, leaving the skeleton fragile and brittle. For most, it was a death sentence. For Edgarth, whose potions could mend even the deepest damage, it was a calculated risk, and a perfect complement to his domain.
Elna's hand hovered over a sapphire amulet glowing faintly with inner light. The Pendant of the Azure Well. Its magic surged like a river, amplifying her reserves and allowing her to draw ambient mana straight from the air. Combined with her other amulet, it made her an unstoppable conduit of power. Yet excess use demanded a toll, consuming the life force of its wearer. For her, vampire and elf both, that cost was negligible. Where another would wither, she would endure.
Ryan claimed a pair of heavy bracers carved from obsidian stone, etched with lines that pulsed faintly like veins. The Bracers of Stoneheart. Their enchantment wrapped around him instantly, reinforcing his flesh and bones until he felt like living granite. With that active, no normal blade could pierce his skin. But the bracers leeched more than just mana, they dulled the heart itself, stripping emotion, flexibility, warmth, until the wearer became as cold and unyielding as stone. Ryan tested their weight, then slipped them off with a grunt. He would wear them only when the moment demanded.
Briva lingered longest, searching for a relic that resonated with her nature-bound magic. Her gaze finally caught a shimmering veil folded over a chest. When she lifted it, the fabric crackled faintly with static, a storm barely contained. The Veil of the Endless Storm. With it, she could summon tempests, wield lightning, and bend the winds themselves. Yet power had its price, the veil made the wearer a conduit for the very elements it commanded. Overuse could burn her, freeze her, or wrack her body with lightning. Briva's expression hardened. To wield nature, one must risk being consumed by it. She accepted the veil without hesitation.
Arthur's eyes fell upon a chalice resting on a fractured altar, its surface glowing faintly with embers that refused to die. The Chalice of Eternal Flame. Even a touch sent warmth crawling up his arm. With it, he could summon fire that no water or darkness could extinguish, a flame that cleansed curses and corruption alike. Combined with his divination and the Seer's Ring, it gave him both sight and purification, the power to root out the festering taint of this place. But the chalice bore a curse as heavy as its gift. Each sip of its eternal fire seared the veins of its wielder, leaving scars within the body, and too much could ignite the blood itself. The risk of bursting into living fire would always linger. Arthur accepted it in silence.
He also found something for Arlasan, a pair of Gauntlets of Crushing Might, their metal blackened as though tempered in battlefields long dead. With them, a single blow could break walls or crush bone, magnifying strength tenfold. Yet each strike tore at the wearer's own joints and muscles, grinding away their body with every use. Arthur held them out without hesitation. When Arlasan came, he accepted with a grim nod; strength came with sacrifice.
Varic, still frail and recovering, was offered nothing. Even the smallest relic here would consume him faster than he could wield it. He remained quietly at Arthur's side, unburdened for now.
Leo's choice was far more personal. His hand closed around a silver ring etched with blood-red sigils that seemed to pulse in rhythm with his heartbeat. The Ring of the Blood Moon. It promised speed, power, and reflexes sharpened to their very peak, its magic strongest beneath moonlight, or in the eternal twilight of the Shadowlands. That alone made it irresistible. But its price was steep. Every use demanded blood, draining the wearer until weakness, anemia, or an uncontrollable thirst for others' blood set in. For anyone else, it would be a dangerous temptation. For Leo, whose blood magic and Thorn already danced on the edge of such hunger, it was a risk he could not ignore. His fingers tightened around the ring, a silent vow etched in his eyes. he had to be careful, or it would consume him.
They gathered a few more items like black crystals, scattered scrolls and some books, before leaving the vault. Halfway through the previous hall, Arthur raised his hand sharply, halting the group.
"Something's coming." His voice was low, steady.
Leo immediately activated his vision spells, but the city's twisting corruption made every image unreliable. The air rippled with false echoes; nothing he saw could be trusted.
Then it began. From the broken walls and gaping holes in the ceiling, shadows poured in, hundreds of them. They weren't simple silhouettes but twisted, half-formed bodies that bent and crawled like spiders. Elongated limbs clutched the stone, their heads featureless voids that twitched unnaturally.
"Run!" Arthur barked.
They sprinted toward the exit. Whatever these things were, they bore no trace of the Goddess they had defeated. Bursting out into the streets, they found no safety; more shadows streamed from the buildings, rushing at them in waves. Their blades passed harmlessly through most of the creatures, though Arthur's searing light burned them to ash and Elna's shadow-forged strikes unraveled their forms. Together, they carved a narrow path through the swarm.
At last they reached the city's edge. Arthur whirled around, lifting the chalice in his hand. He poured mana into it, and golden fire roared to life within. The flames leapt outward, racing along the broken gate and sealing it in a blazing wall. A few shadows, too fast to stop, slammed into the barrier and shrieked as they were consumed utterly. The rest skidded back, clustering just beyond the fire, their formless faces glaring with silent hatred.
Only when the ruined city shrank behind them did they stop to breathe. While the others rested, Luciana, who had yet to spend her full strength, kept guard, her eyes scanning the restless dark of the Shadowlands.
They remained there for hours. Leo used the quiet to withdraw into his domain. He arrived before his throne, the Goddess's orb resting upon its dais, and beside it, the Goddess herself. She no longer looked fragile. Divine power radiated from her, stronger, sharper, as though the orb had awakened something buried.
"I remember more now," she said softly, not looking at him, her eyes fixed on the glowing sphere.
Leo stepped closer. "What did you remember?"
Her gaze finally lifted to meet his. There was no hesitation in her voice, only certainty.
"The ritual Lucius is preparing. I know exactly what it is."
Leo's eyes stayed fixed on her, waiting for more.
The Goddess's gaze locked on the orb. "That artifact… it is the Mad God's Eye. He intends to summon the void itself and use it to evolve into something beyond what he is now."
Leo's breath caught, his eyes widening. "Mad God's Eye…?"
She nodded faintly. "Long ago, the Mad God peered into the void through that eye. It was then that madness claimed him."
As her words fell, the entire domain shuddered. Cracks split across the walls and tore through the ground, the tremors threatening to tear the space apart. The Mad God himself seemed to be listening, and he did not like their conversation. But before Leo could react, the Goddess lifted her hand. A single pulse of power swept outward, and the chaos stilled, the cracks sealing shut as though they had never been.
'She feels… far more like a Goddess now,' Leo thought, momentarily forgetting the weight of the revelation.
"So the Mad God wasn't always mad?" he asked carefully.
This time, she smiled, a sad, almost wistful curve of her lips. "Mad? No. Once, he was the wisest among us. He was the God of Knowledge." Her voice hardened, turning bitter. "But now he schemes to drag Lilith down and place that vampire in her stead."