FINAL CORE : [A holy dungeon-core litRPG] by Rhodes D.M. & Razzmatazz

Author:Rhodes, D.M. & Razzmatazz
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-05-18T00:00:00+00:00

~ Musings of an old, socially awkward vampire hunter, who never quite managed to become a morning person

* * *

~ [Isaiah] ~

Frozen.

Isaiah flies there in the midst of the terrible night, listening to the pleas from around the world come to reach it, millions of voices filling its head with prayers that are born for desires of redemption and sanctuary, prayers of fear and loathing towards it, prayers of well wishes and hopes for the future of a better world. The entire spectrum of human emotion flows through its mind, brought into it through its connection to the divine spirituality of man.

Isaiah stares at the man before itself, who is frozen.

He isn’t anybody of particular note, at least as far as it knows. Rather, he is one of the crusaders who had fallen during the incursion’s beginning. The man, having died within the tower, was subjected to its new policy of handling the dead, which is to chronially imprison them.

There he stands, locked in a chrysalis of hardened, magical amber, neither dead nor alive — he is simply stuck in between. Frozen.

Isaiah stares at him, its hands behind its back.

How long has it too been frozen?

It looks around at the other dozens of crusaders who have also come unto unfortunate circumstances.

In spring, it was frozen with its desire to return to its family. In the blazing summer, it was frozen with its desire to build the tower as high and tall as possible. In the autumn, now, it must be troubled with the wretched refuse of the world — the witch.

Winter will be upon them soon enough, and its only wish is that, by then, the world will have returned to normal, as will have life, so that it may enjoy the year’s final season in a calm, peaceful state of bliss with the souls that it has come to cherish the most.

However, this is unlikely, no?

The gods are coming closer and closer by the day, and they are yet to be handled. Humanity is in an uproar that will not subside, even after the slaying of the cruel witch, and will need to be tended with a gentle, nurturing hand.

Winter is going to be very busy, whenever it arrives.

Hmm…

Isaiah lifts a talon, reaching out to touch the crystal, wondering if there is anything to be done for the creature trapped inside of it. The witch’s magic is what controls them, so surely it could be removed somehow?

— Something lashes out inside the crystal, cracking against the interior of the shell in contrast with the man’s frozen body.

A sloshing, inky string whips against the surface, as if to repel Isaiah. The witch’s magic apparently still works even within the confines of the chronal prison.

Troublesome.

It had hoped to be able to help these souls and perhaps even turn them back against their own corrupted tide. However, it would seem that this isn’t available. Perhaps the only way to really rid the world of the witch’s magic is to rid the world of the witch herself.

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