The Warden of Forgotten Oaths—a once-human knight now fused with a demonic parasite, its chest torn open revealing a pulsing black heart bound by chains. Its weapon was a blade of writhing flesh, its armour breathing in and out as though still alive.
Warden of Forgotten Oaths
Level: 163
Status: Cursed Elite
Passive Skill: Soul Rend
Warning: All death within this floor is permanent.
My breath hitched. "Fuck! Be careful, everyone!"
Permanent? No revive token. No Guardian Store salvation. I turned to the others. "We kill it fast. No mercy. Kael, shields. Karl, anti-curse barrier. Sylphy and Igor keep firing—don't stop, no matter what. Felix, you're with me." They nodded. No words. Just focus.
The monster screamed. A banshee-like, bloodcurdling cry that shattered bone with sound. Blood rained from the ceiling—real blood, pouring from the corpses embedded in the walls. The fight began. Felix slammed into it first, sword igniting with his earthy magic, chipping at its shoulder. Sylphy's arrows pierced glowing weak spots, but the Warden retaliated—fast. It vanished and reappeared behind her like a shadow breaking free of light.
"Sylphy, MOVE—!"
Too late.
The sword plunged through her chest, lifting her off the ground. NO! Time slowed. Her bow dropped from her hands. Her mouth parted, blood spilling past her lips in disbelief.
"D-Dirk..." She exploded into a silver mist of mana as the Warden absorbed her soul with a low, guttural growl.
Sylphy was gone. My vision went red.
I screamed, purple magic erupting from my body in wild arcs. The floor cracked beneath my feet as I lunged, blinking behind the Warden, driving my glowing sword deep into its exposed black heart.
It shrieked.
Karl chanted a burning seal and cast it over the creature's legs, binding them with arcane chains. Kael rushed to Felix's side, then screamed as a blade tore across his leg. Blood sprayed. Felix and Igor took a blow to the side of his face—a piece of their helmet was torn clean off.
We were being ripped apart.
I didn't care.
I slashed again, again, again, purple lightning cracking with every strike. My rage was elemental, burning, a tide that refused to break. I was desperate too. I was angry.
The Warden reached out—its cursed hand aimed at Karl this time, preparing to drain his soul.
I screamed, "NOT AGAIN!" And with a final surge, I rammed the sword hilt-deep into its heart. The monster froze. Its eyes turned to me, glowing with a strange... sadness. And then it crumbled into ash.
BOSS DEFEATED.
Bloodroot Nectar Obtained. Location: Backpack
Quest Progress: 100%
Party Status: 2 critical, 1 fatal.
I dropped to my knees. Sylphy was there, her body disregarded and beaten to a pulp, but I swore I saw her body explode. Ignoring what I've seen earlier, I came running towards her. "Sylphy? Shit! Come on. Open your eyes."
Not a word or a small grunt. She was silent and cold. Just a lingering wind.
Karl collapsed next to her last arrow. Kael, pale and gasping, gripped my hand. "We need... to get out of here, boss..."
"Igor, old man, please carry her while we watch your back."
"Yes, my lord." Igor murmured and chanted something that I couldn't hear. "Don't worry; Divina can heal her."
"I hope so," I said hoarsely. I'll get them home. I promised myself as I gave them a flower from the divine garden to heal their wounds.
Meanwhile, outside the dungeon, in the main gate of the town.
The sun had not yet risen when the scout came stumbling through the gates—bloodied, eyes wide with horror.
"We found them..." one of Felix's rasped. "By the lake... the guards... They're all... gone."
I rode hard with Kael, Karl, and two of our swiftest on horseback, the hooves kicking up cold mist and dew as we reached the lakeside clearing. The moment we broke the treeline, the stench hit us—copper, char, rot. The smell of death soaked into the soil like a curse.
Kael dismounted first. He dropped to his knees in silence. They were all there. Fifteen men. Warriors Felix and I had trained myself. Men who had laughed over firelight and shared bread from the first bakery batch. Now, butchered like livestock.
Some were sprawled across the blackened grass, throats slit, eyes wide in terror.
Others were tied to stakes, their bodies burnt—interrogated. Their fingernails had been torn off. Their tongues cut. One had his chest flayed open with ancient runes scorched into the flesh—a dark spell meant to trap the soul.
"They tortured them..." the warrior whispered hoarsely. "They wanted a way past the gate. They refused to give it."
My vision darkened.
Felix knelt beside one of the corpses, a young lad named Renn. His arms were still raised in a broken defensive posture. Felix's voice cracked. "He was barely nineteen..."
Kael cursed under his breath. "I knew some of them. I trained two of these boys last spring. They were proud to be here..."
Karl picked up a bloodstained banner—a small, makeshift flag they had planted beside their camp. It was still clutched in one man's lifeless hand. "They died believing this land was worth protecting."
But it wasn't just death. It was a message.
On the largest boulder near the lakeshore, blood had been painted in jagged runes, written in a language long lost to most... but not me.
I read it aloud, my voice low.
"Surrender the Divine Tree, Or more will follow. Your gate protects no one. We hold the blood of your man. We hold the lives of Karl's kin."
Beneath it was a symbol scorched deep with shadow magic—a twisted serpent entwined with a broken crown.
Duke Vaelreth. YOU BASTARD! I clenched my fists. "They want me to fear them. They want me to kneel."
Kael placed a trembling hand on his brother's shoulder. "You're not to blame, Karl. They were after all of us. They were trying to force your hand."
"But they still died because of me," Karl whispered. "My family are alive, and they're being used to send messages like this."
The wind picked up, and with it, the rain began to fall—soft at first, then heavy. It matted the blood, washing it into the soil, into the lake where their souls would never sleep soundly.
I stepped forward, pulled my blade free, and drove it into the muddy ground before their remains. "I swear to you," I said to the fallen, to the trees, to the lake itself, "your deaths will not be in vain. The Duke will bleed. And your souls will be avenged."
Kael bowed his head. Felix removed his coat and covered the nearest body. "We'll bury them all here. With honour."
Karl didn't speak. He only stared at the message burnt in blood... and the smouldering ruin of what once was a loyal guard post. How could they do this to my territory? I stared at the bloody message carved into stone—my stone. Soil that had once been blessed by the Divine Tree was now tainted with the crimson of my men. My gut churned with fury. This wasn't just an attack. It was a declaration.
The skies above darkened like an omen, thick storm clouds rolling over the mountains. But it wasn't rain that soaked the ground outside the gate—it was blood, seeping into the earth, still warm, still fresh.
A sharp gust blew across the field, carrying with it the iron scent of death and something fouler—dark magic, still lingering in the air like the breath of a predator waiting to strike again.
I turned on my heel, my voice low and cold. "Alert everyone."
Kael straightened beside me, nodding grimly.
"Close all shops. Bar the inner gates. Evacuate the market. Now." I didn't shout. I didn't need to. The fire in my voice made the orders clear.
Footsteps scattered like raindrops on stone as messengers ran. I grabbed Karl by the shoulder, my grip tightening. His face was pale and haunted but steady. "Gather every child, every elder, every woman who can't fight. Take them to the unfinished stone building by the manor."
Karl blinked. "But—"
"Guard them with your life, Karl." My tone made him freeze. "They're the future. If we fall, they must not."
His jaw tightened. "Understood."
"And feed them," I added. "From my wares. The food we've grown, the rations from Earth, the bread and bakeshop goods—make sure everyone eats. No one fights on an empty stomach."
"The mana-infused ones?" Karl asked.
"Yes," I nodded. "Every bite of it. I want the entire town brimming with energy if another wave comes."
He turned, already calling to nearby guards and runners. Then I ask Felix to patrol the outside gate to the lake and leave no stone unturned.
Then I looked toward the marketplace as merchants hurried to gather their carts, parents lifted children in their arms, and shopkeepers pulled down their stall curtains. Some people cried; some simply stood still, dazed. A little girl dropped a piece of warm bread from her hands. A boy, no older than ten, picked it up and handed it back gently.
Despite the fear in their eyes, no one ran away. They trusted me. They believed in me.
The heavens cracked open, thunder rolling across the valley. But I barely heard it. My thoughts were already turning to the forge, to the weapon room, to the armoury of Earth-forged guns and enchanted arrows I'd purchased last week.
Because if Duke Vaelreth wanted war—
Then war was coming.
"Felix, send another spy." He wiped the tears from his eyes, "Yes, my lord."
Again, I looked at the sky, then at the ground. I closed my eyes for a moment, maybe hoping this was just a nightmare, but when I opened them again, the dirk was still bathed with blood and human flesh.
Fifteen of my men—loyal warriors who'd trained, bled, and built this place with me—lay dead. Heads removed. Their bodies nailed to posts just outside the mana-reinforced gate.