I Awakened A Divine Curse

Auren moved slowly through the hall, cloaked in dark armor that seemed to drink in both light and sound. He was nearly imperceptible—an echo that never arrived. From time to time, whenever he needed to slip past wandering eyes, he simply vanished and reappeared elsewhere in the dark.

A few minutes later, he was already atop the Temple tower, staring out across the distance toward the main keep, where the King and his nobles resided.

Charging in blindly would be foolish. He couldn't just barge into the keep without knowing where to go. Precision was necessary. He needed a way to map out the place, down to its last corner.

A full-frontal assault would end in his defeat. That much was clear.

Still, under the façade he carried—the carefully woven lie he intended to use—he had a trump card. If it ever came down to the final moment, when death was certain, he would unleash Devourer.

The very act of rising with such power was sure to make them tremble. They would fear him. They would believe he came from the Dark God. At least… that was the calculation.

And Auren didn't think he was overestimating his ability.

But if he revealed it now, there would be consequences. Asenya would find out. The one thing he had over her would be gone.

Scanning through the dark came easily to him. Though some pockets of shadow ran deep enough to blur even his sight, he could still feel the calmness in them. It wasn't silence. It was awareness—quiet, watchful. As though the darkness itself breathed.

Then something moved.

Auren frowned and shifted his gaze to the left, toward the entrance of the keep. Several towers rose around it—not quite as tall as the Temple's, but close. The shadows there felt denser, almost sentient, like a force with its own will.

And within them, something stirred.

He couldn't see it yet, but the disturbance rippled softly through the air, brushing against his senses. He stayed still and tracked the movement by feel alone—until, at last, a flicker of motion caught his eye.

Figures slipped into view. Dressed in black fabric, they moved along the wall's edge with practiced speed.

It was clear they were here for something, though Auren couldn't say what.

Once they moved far enough ahead, he drew his cloak tighter and vanished—reappearing silently on the ground, in the thick shadows the strangers had passed through moments ago.

He settled there, wrapped in the living dark, following the faint thread of that movement, unwilling to lose it.

Auren silently trailed behind them, careful not to disturb the stillness of the night. He followed their steps with practiced ease until they reached a basement door, opened it without hesitation, and slipped inside.

At first, he'd assumed they were spies from Highrise—or perhaps assassins. But watching them access that particular basement so effortlessly forced him to reconsider. These weren't mere infiltrators. They knew this place.

And that troubled him.

Their familiarity with every hidden corridor and shadowed corner of the keep unsettled him. They moved like they belonged, like the keep had been etched into their memory long ago.

Still, their presence served him well. Thanks to their trail, Auren was able to complete the mapping he'd originally set out to do.

They weaved through the main keep, turning through darkened halls and silent chambers, until they arrived at a semi-large door. Two tall soldiers stood guard—clad in full dark armor, like twin monoliths carved from obsidian.

Auren watched with faint curiosity, narrowing his gaze slightly.

What he saw next made him pause.

The cloaked figures revealed themselves without fear, stepping forward casually and flashing the guards a peculiar sign with their fingers. The soldiers didn't flinch. They didn't ask questions. They responded with complete indifference—as if a gust of wind had passed by and nothing more.

Without resistance, the heavy doors creaked open, granting the strangers entry into the King's chamber.

Auren exhaled slowly.

Something's wrong…

This wasn't infiltration. This was orchestration.

Something beneath the surface was slithering, and it reeked of conspiracy.

He tightened his cloak, vanished into the shadows, and reappeared a short distance away. Bit by bit, he repeated the process, slipping between folds of darkness until he emerged quietly outside the main keep.

Then—a sound. Footsteps approached from behind.

Auren stiffened.

He considered disappearing again, but the approaching figure would spot the flicker from afar. No, that would only raise suspicion. Confidence, not concealment, would serve him better now.

So he turned, casual and composed, just as the figure rounded the corner.

The man stepped into the dim light, and the moment he saw Auren, his eyes lit with recognition and a breath of admiration.

"Divine Cadre! You're here!"

Auren studied him quietly—Knight Armsteir.

He gave a nod, cool and measured.

"Indeed I am."

The knight offered a pale smile.

"Is there by chance… anything you need?"

Auren let out a soft sigh.

"Ah, my divine senses seem to be flaring again. And by divine senses, I mean—"

Knight Armsteir quickly raised a hand and shook his head.

"You need not explain such things to me, Divine Cadre."

His expression hardened a moment later, voice sharpening with concern.

"However, if your divine senses are active… could it be that something is amiss? Should I tighten the security along the walls?"

Auren gave a light shrug.

"I don't mind either way. Such matters don't trouble me. I was merely curious." He let his gaze rest on the knight, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "Just as I'm curious about you, valorous knight…"

"Armsteir."

Auren nodded slowly.

"Armsteir. A rather intriguing name. Last I saw you, you were injured. Are you fully recovered?"

Knight Armsteir chuckled softly, the sound tinged with humility.

"I am honored that you would remember someone as insignificant as me. Yes, Divine Cadre—I've healed. The Kingdom of Heart is blessed with extraordinary healers."

Auren hummed thoughtfully.

"Hmm… quite the contradiction."

"Pardon, sir?"

He waved a hand dismissively, eyes glinting with subtle amusement.

"Never mind it. And your companion? The odd one. A strange composition of a man… though, not so strange when you consider the Divine Realm's gallery of walking anomalies."

Knight Armsteir froze for a moment, unsure how to respond to a Divine Cadre's veiled jest. He managed a stiff smile, caught between reverence and discomfort.

Auren, on the other hand, was simply enjoying the performance—playing the part of the mystic with a touch of mischief, every word a thread in his growing web.

"His name is Tarion. And he was once a normal man…"

Knight Armsteir's voice lowered, and his expression darkened.

"It might seem like a blessing… but for him, it's a curse. He was cursed."

Auren's expression shifted, his gaze sharpening. Something in the knight's tone felt too deliberate—too loaded with meaning.

The silence between them stretched, until Auren finally spoke.

"I see…"

Another pause.

Then, quietly, "And is this curse… breakable?"

Knight Armsteir's jaw tightened. He clenched his fist, as if trying to crush the truth in his palm.

"There's only one way. The Truthsayer. Legend says she alone can break it—but rumor claims she's ascended, returned to the divine realm."

Auren's eyes narrowed. A cold pulse stirred in his chest, threading into his spine like a blade.

'Truthsayer cursed the golden man? But why?'

The question echoed in his mind like a distant toll of a bell.

He folded his arms, the darkness around him thickening. Even the air seemed to tense.

"I want to know everything," he said, voice low and weighted. "Everything you know about this wench called Truthsayer. Why would she curse your friend? What is truly happening in this damned kingdom?"

Knight Armsteir didn't hesitate. He bowed slightly, then straightened, his voice solemn.

"Please… follow me."

Auren exhaled and began to follow—only to freeze mid-step. Something rippled through the darkness, brushing against his senses like a whisper laced with malice.

His grim expression returned, darker than before. He halted.

Knight Armsteir turned, concern shadowing his face.

"Is all well, Divine Cadre?"

But Auren was already paling.

This… presence…

Without a word, he grasped his cloak and vanished.

Barely a heartbeat later, something crashed down from above—a silver lance spearing through the space he'd just stood in, shattering the earth with brutal precision.

Knight Armsteir reacted instantly. He drew a dagger and swept it across his body, striking the lance with a sharp clang that deflected its path. The attacker—a shadowed figure wielding the weapon—was thrown slightly off balance.

Armsteir didn't hesitate.

He stepped forward, delivering a savage, overhead slash—fast and unforgiving, like the strike of a viper. His blade howled through the air, aiming to carve the intruder down.

But the assailant met it head-on. Steel screamed against steel, and the knight staggered back from the force of the block.

They circled briefly, both regaining breath, the silence between them pulsing with the promise of violence.

Auren stared from barely a meter away, a pale, devilish grin splitting his face.

'Oh oh oh… will you look at that… this persistent bastard finally finds his way back to me.'