Death Heir’s Devouring System

Azrael disregarded the recent thought of how effortlessly Seraphina had brutalized Logan so thoroughly and focused on the present. Why the Chosen didn't look disturbed in the slightest wasn't a mystery worth solving at the moment.

After confirming that no abominations were nearby, he leaned over the edge of the well and asked, "So we just jump down?"

"Yes," Seraphina replied, walking toward Isolde. Without a word, she lifted the girl into a princess carry and leapt straight in.

'Well, at least I'm not the first to jump,' Azrael mused, watching their figures vanish into the void.

As he'd been told, the moment they disappeared from sight, so did their presence. He should've still been able to sense them a little longer, but there was nothing.

There was definitely some kind of barrier inside the well.

"Here goes nothing." With a sigh, he jumped in after them.

His snow-white hair was swept upward by the force of the fall, until he landed at the bottom. It turned out the well wasn't bottomless at all.

He quickly looked up and saw the small hole he had jumped through. A thin veil of darkness obscured any view of the world above.

"Are all here?" Seraphina, being the first one to get her bearings, let go of Isolde and began walking north… or at least what Azrael presumed to be north.

His eyes surveyed the place. The underground tunnel was wide enough for two vehicles to pass side by side. The pitch-black soil was supported by wooden beams, and along the right side, were evenly spaced torches burning with an eerily green flame.

'Their fuel is probably endless,' Azrael figured, debating if he should touch the fire.

In the end, he concluded that it wasn't worth the risk.

His gaze shifted toward the angelic duo. Seraphina was gently leading Isolde beside her—an action she hadn't performed when they had been in the open a few moments ago.

'So she expects trouble even here.'

To be on the safe side, he called forth his scythe, resting it on his right shoulder.

The startled expressions of the Chosen around him quickly turned to understanding as they followed his example.

Silently, the exploration team moved further north, taking caution to minimize the sound. Everybody took care where they stepped to avoid even the faintest echo.

When they reached a fork and began turning right into a narrower passage, Isolde halted, raising her right hand.

'The scent of iron,' Azrael noted. Something was coming.

The Chosen held their breaths, the stronger members of the exploration team moving to the front, Azrael being one of them.

James, barely illuminated by the torches on the wall, placed a finger on his lips.

'Even the softest sound could mean death,' he was clearly trying to say.

A heartbeat later, two figures appeared in their field of view.

Taller than any man, with shattered golden armor and black flowers blooming from their skulls—Unworthy Knights.

Before the abominations could sense them, the Chosen moved. Azrael severed the flower from the one on the left, while James moved behind the same creature and snapped its neck.

Seraphina cut the flower to the right, while the Chosen around her moved to restrain the momentum of her foe.

A second passed. Two monsters' bodies lay limp on the ground.

Taking Isolde's palm, Seraphina moved to the front once more; the others silently followed.

*****

Azrael's feet began to hurt, sweat drenching his forehead. Moving silently like death was harder than jogging, that was certain.

"We are here," Seraphina whispered, easing the heavy tension among the Chosen.

"How do you know?" Azrael looked up at another well shaft. Sure, it looked like a well, but how could she be certain it led to the kingdom?

Wordlessly, Seraphina put her finger over his lips.

Taking the cue, he listened. A faint echo of pleading men and women resonated from above.

"This is the first way," she spoke, finger pointing to Isolde.

"She is the second way. Only she can sense souls, after all."

Azrael frowned slightly; reaching out, he took Isolde's palm and traced his question.

"How many?"

A second later, an answer came.

[Too many to count.]

Cursing inwardly, the group began climbing the well.

When his turn came, Azrael surveyed the new area.

An involuntary gasp left his mouth, his eyes wide in awe.

The view couldn't have been more different from the scattered villages at the south. Despite the thick mist that covered the area, it was clear that the kingdom itself looked majestic. Neatly laid stone bricks spread into countless paths. Towering homes loomed in all directions, crafted from stone, wood, and gold.

However, the sight didn't remain magical for long, the countless bodies clustered across the streets spoiled his mood.

"We'll rest here," Seraphina said softly, heading toward the nearest house.

"So soon?" Azrael questioned.

She spared him a glance. "The tunnels dull the senses. We've been walking for two days straight."

Had it not been for the exhaustion in his limbs, he would have found her words hard to believe.

With weapons in hands, the Chosen entered the closest building.

The house itself reminded Azrael of the one where he found the diary not too long ago, just this one was more elegant and not so trashed.

'Wait, why does it look in such perfect condition?' he wondered. It looked like somebody had cleaned it yesterday. There was not even a particle of dust on the stone floor.

"Quickly," Seraphina urged, climbing the stairs.

They ascended to the third floor, the highest, where she approached a window and broke it without hesitation.

"What are you doing?!" Azrael hissed. "What was the point of being quiet until now?"

Without answering, she climbed onto the roof.

"It's too dangerous to sleep inside. The roofs are safer."

Following the more experienced, he climbed up after her. The vantage point gave him a clear view of the vast area, as well as the large cathedral at the center of the kingdom.

"Should one sleep in the ruined houses, they would never wake up," Seraphina explained.

"How sure are you?"

She remained unfazed.

"As certain as one could be. And I'm not sending a Chosen to death just to prove my theory."

Suppressing the urge to bring up how she treated Logan, Azrael sighed.

"Fine. Since you all are more tired than me, I'll take the first watch."

At his declaration, no one batted an eye. The Chosen simply nodded, spreading out across the rooftop as their bodies gradually relaxed.

'The Death Knight… has to be somewhere here, huh?' Azrael mused, seeing the way the scene began to change.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, it cast a faint golden hue over the area before fading into darkness.

Instantly, the torches scattered around the area lit up, their flames similar to the ones they'd seen in the tunnels.

Ironically enough, the torchlight made it easier to see through the mist. The Ruined Kingdom proved easier to explore under darkness than in daylight.

Slowly, the minutes turned into hours, causing Azrael to yawn.

He was about to wake someone to take his place when his eyes caught movement in the far distance.

His fingers clenched into fists, expression darkening.

This was a really twisted space.