As the days bled into one another, Kane relentlessly repeated his strategy. He would deliberately awaken the Wind Crawl Spiders, ensuring their attacks were directed not only at the Storm Nightmare Creature but also at the unsuspecting squad of soldiers. He, in turn, would put on a convincing act of struggle, feigning desperate attempts to fight off the creatures while subtly observing the unfolding chaos.
The constant attacks and the mounting casualties began to wear on the soldiers, both physically and mentally. The Captain and the Guard, their faces etched with exhaustion and fear, grew increasingly uneasy. Galliard, his patience stretched to its breaking point, finally voiced his frustration. "Shall we execute him here and now?" he demanded, his voice rough with fatigue. "Why should we continue to carry this... this burden? I initially believed he might prove useful in battling some of the creatures, but he's only dragging us down, attracting more danger than we can handle."
The Leader, however, remained resolute, his gaze fixed on some distant point in the icy landscape. "If we travel just a little further," he said, his voice firm despite his weariness, "we will reach the War Goddess's temple. We shall carry out the execution there, as per the proper ceremony."
Immediately, as if to defy their plans, Kane made a show of attempting to break free from the squad. He feigned a desperate lunge, a clumsy and pathetic attempt to escape into the treacherous mountains. His efforts, however, were predictably futile. He was quickly subdued, his arms roughly restrained, and dragged back before the Leader.
The Leader, his expression a mixture of scorn and pity, addressed Kane with a chilling finality. "Oh, you weakling," he sneered, his voice laced with contempt. "Still clinging to the pathetic hope of survival? You cannot escape your fate. And I assure you, you will not."
Kane, his face a mask of carefully crafted despair, remained silent, his eyes downcast. He knew his performance had to be convincing, that any hint of his true intentions would be his undoing.
After traversing several more miles of the unforgiving terrain, the group finally reached their destination: the War Goddess's temple. It was a sight of awe-inspiring grandeur, a testament to the power and influence of the War God's followers. Newly constructed, the temple stood in stark contrast to the harsh, untamed wilderness that surrounded it.
The temple was a sprawling complex, its walls crafted from massive blocks of polished stone. Intricate carvings adorned every surface, depicting scenes of glorious battles, mythical heroes, and the wrathful power of the War Goddess. The interior was even more breathtaking. The main hall was a vast, echoing space, its high ceilings supported by towering pillars. Countless weapons, each one a masterpiece of craftsmanship, were displayed on the walls, a silent testament to the temple's martial purpose. And at the far end of the hall stood a colossal statue of the War Goddess herself, a majestic figure of a woman clad in full battle armor, her face a mask of stern determination and unwavering strength.
In the center of the hall, an altar had been erected, surrounded by a throng of solemn-faced devotees. One of them, a high-ranking priest with a stern gaze, stepped forward, his voice booming through the hall. "Is this the only follower of the Dreadful One you have brought before us?" he asked, his eyes fixed on Kane with a mixture of disgust and righteous fury.
Galliard, eager to be rid of their burden, replied quickly, "Yes, this is him. We were planning to execute him along the way, but he proved... mildly useful in dealing with some of the lesser creatures."
The priest nodded, his expression hardening. "Good. We must cleanse this land of the taint of the Daemons and appease the Goddess. That is why we must perform the execution here, within the sacred confines of her temple. The altar is prepared, and the ritual implements are ready. Let us prepare for the ceremony."
The priests and devotees moved with practiced efficiency, their movements swift and purposeful. They gathered the ritual items: ornate daggers, gleaming chalices, and scrolls filled with ancient incantations. They bound Kane to the altar, his limbs secured with thick ropes, his body positioned for the sacrifice.
As soon as he was bound, the people in the temple, their faces illuminated by the flickering torchlight, formed a circle around the altar. They began to chant, their voices rising in a rhythmic chorus, invoking the power of the War Goddess and condemning the followers of the Dreadful One.
Kane, his heart pounding with a mixture of anticipation and grim satisfaction, thought to himself, 'Good. The stage is set. It should be here any moment now.'
And he was right.
At the next moment, a sudden gust of grey wind, cold and malevolent, barged into the temple. The wind howled and swirled, extinguishing the torches and plunging the hall into near darkness. It snaked around the pillars, danced across the altar, and encircled the terrified worshippers, effectively blocking all the exits.
The temple erupted in chaos. The devotees screamed and scattered, their chants dissolving into cries of fear and confusion. The soldiers, their hands gripping their weapons, stared in disbelief at the swirling vortex of energy. Galliard and the other surviving soldier exchanged a look of horrified realization. 'It was still following us,' they thought in unison, their faces pale with dread. 'But how? How did it manage to remain undetected? And how is it so cunning, so intelligent?'
The Leader, his face a mask of shock and fury, raised his sword, preparing to attack the creature. But before he could even take a step, a blade pierced his neck from behind.
The Leader gasped, his eyes widening in disbelief. He tried to turn his head, to see his attacker, but his movements were sluggish and uncoordinated. To his utter astonishment, he saw Kane, his face twisted into a smug grin, standing behind him, the Aracne Sword dripping with his blood.
Kane, his voice a low, mocking hiss, spoke to the dying man. "Hey, you arrogant bastard," he said, his eyes glittering with triumph. "Who's weak now? You're about to die by the hand of this 'weakling.' How does it feel? You fucking hypocrite!"
Before the Leader could utter a word, Kane twisted the sword, severing his head from his body in a shower of blood and gore.
The ancient voice of the Nightmare Spell echoed in his mind, confirming his kill.
[You have slain an Awakened Human, Azarax, the Plague of Steel.]
[You have received a Memory: The Ultimate Defiance]
Kane was momentarily overjoyed, his heart soaring with the thrill of victory and the promise of a new Memory. But his moment of triumph was short-lived. A sword came flying at him, hurled with deadly force.
It was Galliard, his face contorted with rage, his eyes burning with a murderous intent. "How dare you do that?" he roared, his voice filled with fury. "You treacherous dog!"
Without replying, Kane summoned the Aracne Sword, the weapon materializing in his hand with a familiar weight. He met Galliard's charge, their blades clashing in a shower of sparks.
They parried and thrust, their movements a blur of steel and shadow. Galliard, a seasoned warrior, was clearly superior in swordsmanship. He pressed his attack, his blade finding its mark, leaving Kane with several brutal cuts across his legs and stomach.
But just as Galliard was about to deliver the killing blow, the swirling wind coalesced into a physical form, a monstrous creature of swirling grey energy, and attacked him from behind.
Kane, his plan unfolding before his eyes, thought with grim satisfaction, 'It's working. My plan is working perfectly. Now, for the final act.'
From the moment he had learned about the Storm Creature's nature, its ability to transform and weaken with each attack, Kane had formulated a daring and dangerous plan. He knew he couldn't defeat it in a straight fight. It was too powerful, too elusive. But he could outsmart it.
His strategy was to draw the creature out of the War Goddess's temple, to lure it into attacking the temple's followers, using them as bait. He knew that each assault would drain the creature's energy, forcing it to expend its power and revert to its weakened, original form. And while the creature was distracted, he would use the chaos to his advantage.
To even the odds and further weaken the creature, he had also orchestrated the attack by the Wind Crawl Spiders, forcing both the soldiers and the Storm Creature to fight on two fronts, expending their energy and resources. He had deliberately provoked the creature, pushing it to its limits, making it lash out in anger and desperation.
And to ensure his own escape and freedom of movement, he had feigned his earlier attempt to break free, using the opportunity to subtly swipe the keys to his restraints and pick the lock.
Now, every member of the temple was engaged in a desperate battle for survival. The soldiers were fighting the Wind Crawl Spiders, the priests were battling the Storm Creature, and Kane was locked in a duel with Galliard. The temple, once a sanctuary of order and devotion, had become a chaotic battleground.
Kane, his eyes scanning the swirling chaos, knew that the time was drawing near. 'Now for the last part,' he thought, his grip tightening on the Aracne Sword. 'I need to find it, to confront it, and to kill it, before it finishes us all.'