Chapter 128: Anger In My Blood

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The suffocating silence was overwhelmed with the sound of Moulin's breathing. He clenched his hand around the sword and tried to calm himself. This voice always spoke to him during unexpected situations leaving Moulin to think about what has he done to be able to hear it. Why was it desperate for Moulin to find him? To find something...

"What exactly did I find?" Moulin whispered to himself with confusion. He lifted his gaze to stare at the sinister darkness before him. Was it this hall? 

...

Or... something that lies deep within the shadows...

...

Moulin silently stared unmovingly. He felt as if he had to see what was at the end of the dark hall. The glowing blue crystal floating above him had ceased its movements, halting with its owner. He turned his head to glance at the exhausted elven princess. She sat quietly on the mirror-like floor. Glorious hair curling as it lay on the floor. Quietly sitting on her lap was Snow. 

Moulin slightly narrowed his silver eyes.

He deeply wondered about why Snow had urged him to stray from Alsander back at the lakeshore. The little beast was quite persistent that Moulin had to chase him. He didn't know if he was just thinking too much about it but he thought it was a bit... suspicious...

Moulin shakes his head. No matter what it was, he was going to uncover it.

He sheathed his sword back in its scabbard and turned towards Eilhara who was busy trying to pet the little snow-white fox. 

"Your Highness..." He called as he drew near her.

"Hm?" Princess Eilhara lifted her head. 

"Please stay and rest. I will be contacting the other sentinels. I believe we will be staying here for a short while..."

She nodded as she lowered her gaze. "We seem to stray far from the west side of the fortress... I hope the other prisoners are safe... "

Moulin comforted her briefly before he created glowing crystal ice for her and Snow so that both would feel at ease with the comfort brought by the light. The darkness was indeed suffocating. Strangely it was like being engulfed by fear and malevolence. Or perhaps he was just imagining things.

After making sure Eilhara and Snow were alright, he faced the dark hallways in front of him and took a step forward. His footsteps seemed to become louder, echoing into the dark. He felt vague anticipation and the creeping fingers of curiosity appear to pull him forward, deeper into the dark along with the light of the floating crystal. He could see his reflection as he looked down. Silver eyes staring straight at him unknowingly.

He kept going. Walking forward, unsure of what he would find in the end.

What will he find in the end?

...

After some time, Moulin stopped. He shakes his head of his absurdity. "This is ridiculous..."

What was he doing? He should be working on contacting the other sentinels not walking into some creepy hallway. It didn't matter what... he would find...

Dismissing his thoughts, he lifted his wrist. The gemstone of the conveyer approached his mouth. He pressed his thumb on the conveyer and waited to hear something. Waiting to hear someone...

When he thought the silence would crush all of his hope, he heard a click and a disordered mix of voices and sound. It was loud. 

A voice then spoke, instantly showering Moulin with hope.

'Hello?'

It was Rowan's voice. There was a blend of loud noises and the distinct sound of metal clashing. 

"Sir Rowan, It is Moulin..."

Moulin hurriedly replied.

There was a brief silence...

'What is the matter? Why are you contacting me? I will transfer the call...'

Moulin's eyes constricted. "Wait, No! Don't do it-"

'Moulin...'

At the sound of the familiar voice, Moulin stiffened. The tone was too grim and fierce. Like a sword ready to slash or a spear ready to pierce through flesh. The lord's voice was too frightful as if he already knows about every single detail of Moulin's situation. Moulin couldn't help but feel slightly intimidated and nervous.

'You are not where you are supposed to be... Are you?'

The glaring gleam in his silver eyes flicker. Moulin hesitated. 

...

"I'm not..." Moulin finally replied.

'...'

Moulin closed his eyes. Feeling a wave of guilt wash over his calm countenance.

'... Stay. I will find you.'

"..." Moulin sighed. "I have the princess with me. However, I could not reach the others. They're in the dungeons of the west wing-"

'We have found them'

Moulin's brows lifted in surprise. "Then the others-"

'Stay with the princess. Do not move, that's an order...'

Moulin paused. The light in his eyes slowly dimmed. The glowing light of the blue gem was reflected n his glossy eyes. "Alright..."

Snap!

The crystal light abruptly vanishes it was followed by the sudden darkness and a loud shatter. 

Moulin suddenly lifted his gaze. The pitch-black darkness and the cold breeze caressing his damp figure made him narrow his eyes in suspiciousness. He unconsciously touched the blunt end of his sword. 

'Moulin?'

This time there was faint concern over Hadrian's voice. Moulin lowered his gaze, about to respond, however, the gem dimmed, and finally, it lost its glow. It was no longer functional. Moulin pressed on it again, however, it was meaningless.

Once again, he tried to summon his mana. Only the chilling coldness brushed his palm and the quiet flow of his mana inside him. It refused to reveal and expel. Suddenly, the princess entered his mind.

He turned around and cautiously looked for any sign of light. The light from the blue ice crystal Moulin left for Snow and the princess. Dread filled his chest. 

As he was about to sprint, light suddenly illuminated from the torches of each pillar. 

It was bright. Luminous. Almost haunting. It sent chills down his spine as he stared as if hypnotized by the blue glow. Two became four, and six, and eight... Until all twenty-four torches of twenty-four pillars illuminated the dark halls. 

It was intimidating. The ferocious sculptures of serpents coiling around the black pillars. Their appalling gazes stared downwards as if it to trigger the fright within anyone walking down the halls.

Where Moulin was...

When Moulin spotted Eilhara carrying Snow in her arms, he sighed in relief. They were hurriedly heading towards him. Eilhara looked spooked by the sudden situation.

Woosh!

Moulin shuddered. When his gaze landed beneath him, he saw his silhouette, overwhelmed by the blue light that came from behind him. He turned. He suppressed a gasp.

An altar. A massive one. 

A humongous serpent statue had its jaw opened, massive stone fangs were bared and its slithering tongue made Eilhara step back out of fright. Red crimson eyes looked as if they could cut out every bit of courage inside oneself. There were two curved horns at either side of its's head. What made it even more terrifying was its other two snake heads at either side of the middle serpent. Unlike the horrid crimson eyes, the middle serpent possessed, the other two had sapphire-like eyes, glowing along with the blue hue of the dim surroundings. Three head, one body. 

What kind of creature is this?

Before the statue was a long horizontal stone table. A row of candles was arranged. Eight of them, All bearing tongues of blue flames. Illuminating ominously.

Like a devil's altar...

'What did I find?'

Perhaps, Moulin had finally found the answer. An altar at the end of the dark hall. Blue flames. A three-headed serpent statue...Blue eyes, Red eyes.

Moulin didn't understand... 

"What is this place?" The Princess's voice entered his ears. They were filled with curiosity and fear.

It seems both of them found this place frightening.

Moulin swallowed down his apprehension and began to activate the conveyer. Unfortunately, it still would not turn on as if the mana infused inside was dead. No, it wasn't dead. He could feel it. It was not dead, it was stagnant. Unmoving...

Moulin furrowed his brows in anxiety...

Deep inside he knew they should leave this place as soon as possible, however, Hadrian strictly told him to hold his place and wait. "Ugh..."

...

No, they have to leave...

"Your Highness..." 

Eilhara drew her br6ows together. Her silver eyes shifted to Moulin. "W-We should leave, is that right?"

"Yes..."

"Then let's hurry" She rasped. Both of them turned their heels. Their footsteps turned into a series of clicks as they headed towards the door.

However, before they could even make it halfway. Dark tendrils materialized several meters before them. Darkness coiled and curled. Growing larger and larger by the seconds. 

Moulin halted his steps. He stretched a hand to make Eilhara step behind him. He felt it. Devious intent and malevolence. The blend of red and black tendril coiling into a big round ball. A horrific ambiance was exuded making Moulin step back.

He felt his heart thunder as he anticipated. 

Finally, the black-red ball cracked. It shattered, shards flying swiftly through the air and then disintegrating.

It revealed two people. 

One larger and taller. His skin was a darker grey. Ominous red eyes. A long black-furred cloak draped down from his shoulder and back. It barely reached the floor. His other arm was exposed, revealing explosive-looking muscles. A single horn curved upwards from the center of his forehead and looked horrid as if it was burnt. Behind his back was a giant blade, supported by a rope to let it rest on his back. The dark rope was fastened from his shoulder across its stomach to his waist. His hair was as black as night. Long and braided. He looked like a savage.

When Moulin shifted his gaze to the other man that was being held, he stopped.

An elven man with silver eyes. Moulin recognized him...

It was Phuna's father...

He was shivering, looking so fragile and weak. The was ruthlessly held by the hair. Silver eyes appeared guilty and sorrowful.

Moulin narrowed his eyes. He was exhausted, yes, but he will never leave Phuna's father. He drew his sword and swung it. With dangerous eyes, he muttered to the princess to step behind him.

Snow immediately transformed into his Opallian form and bared his teeth. It shocked Eilhara but it did not overwhelm her. Her silver gaze was concentrated on the horned man standing ahead of them.

"That's him... The man who takes the other prisoners that never returned..."

Moulin glanced at her. His eyes narrowed even more. For some reason, he could not use his powers inside this hall. How come others we able to teleport inside?

The horned man gazed at Moulin and Eilhara. His impassive expression frowned making his face look even more horrifying. He shifted his gaze to the elf in his grasp.

"Is that the one?" The man tightened his grip. Phuna's father gritted his teeth. Hesitantly, he nodded.

Narrowing his eyes, the horned man didn't even twitch as he loosened his grip and choked the elven man. His large hand tightened and tightened around the fragile neck. Red eyes glowed.

Suddenly, Moulin saw Phuna's father jerk. His limbs convulsed. As he tried to pry the man's grip off his neck. He choked. 

Moulin could not bear to watch any longer. Anger filled his veins as gnashed his teeth.

"Release him!" He shouted.

Snow growled beside him. Their silver eyes dazzled with brightness.

The man only lifted his chin. Starting emotionlessly at the little man and his pet. He felt a tinge of absurdity. He didn't even try to loosen his grip on the elf.

With an unfeeling tone, he suggested, "I will release him... If you come to me willingly..."

Moulin snorted, "You think I'm a fool to believe you?"

"Don't act smart with me child..." The horned man responded. With a helpless look in his eyes, he started at the silver-eyed elf in his grip. "Well... Since you have decided..."

A dagger materialized in his large hand and he plunged the blade deep into the elf's gut. Twisting, piercing through the back. Blood splattered. Spilling and dripping on the mirror-like floor.

Moulin watched as the light in the elf's eyes began to fade away. 

He felt his breath stop...

...