Chapter 142

No Rest For the Wicked (II)

The journey through the portal was long -- exhaustingly long. The sensation of the passage of time would swell to its peak and then vanish, and nobody was quite certain just how many hours or even days or weeks had passed since they entered the swirling vortex back in the City of Mirrors. However, by the time they emerged on the other end of the winding tunnel, everyone flattened, all sixteen of them, spilling their innards out freely.

A good half an hour would pass before they started to regain some of the cognitive capabilities, and yet another half until they had recovered enough to look around and see where they landed.

A ghastly mist permeated their surroundings, white visages and apparitions floating about aimlessly, though appearing harmless as they looked to have not even noticed the arrival of the new group. Dead trees sprung all around the slightly hilly area, the ground covered in ashen pebbles and dirt, tendrils of dark-green smoke lifting from the tiny crevices lying about in eerie patterns.

They landed on top of a hilly plateau overlooking a circular canyon of gray rocks and stone, nary a sign of life anywhere to be seen. Wailing echoes could be heard every once in a while, though they sounded distant and hollow, as though coming from a vault in the ground.

The strangest part of the whole place, however, had to be what was above them -- not the sky, but the realm below it. There, a 'river' could be seen streaming across from one end of the horizon to another -- a river of white visages and ghosts. Countless arms stretched over the river's edge, appearing to hope to escape, with a few dislodging themselves and flying away. The number of souls there was innumerable, crammed together in what appeared to be a fairly narrow 'river'.

"So, when they named this place," Kramer commented after taking a deep breath. "They were quite literal, huh?"

"According to the map," Emma said. "We're roughly two hundred miles from where Moru'gh resides. It's not as far as I thought it would be."

"Yeah, but traversing this place will be a nightmare," Senna frowned. "Not to mention meeting up with ghosts that aren't as dumb as these."

"I thought that creepy guy told us a lot," Amelia sighed. "But, turns out, he said basically nothing. What the hell is this place, anyway?"

"No point to speculating," Emma said. "We rest for half an hour and depart southward."

"They~~seeee~~", a low, raspy sound traveled into their ears right after, sending shivers down their spine as everyone drew out their weapons, readying for a fight. Nobody was attacking, however, they realized just as quickly and noted that the voice came from one of the apparitions floating around them. "They~~seeee~~" the apparition repeated the same phrase at frequent intervals until it slowly floated away. Then, however, a set of new ones appeared.

"Myeel, what are you doing?!"

"My ring... where is my ring? I need my ring..."

"Momma? Momma? Where are you?"

"Shadows lurk... everywhere..."

"The skies... the skies are burning!"

"He... comes..."

Though the group tried, it was, for some reason, physically impossible to tune the voices out and they had to listen to all of them. And, inadvertently, they'd shiver and shake, as though tiny specks of ice were injected into their veins for a moment.

"Do not be alarmed," a familiar voice startled them in the strange land as they nearly screamed out in frustration over the surprises. The Shopkeeper appeared seemingly out of nowhere right by their side, standing there, cloaked and hidden, arms crossed behind his back. "These souls... are harmless."

"Geez dude, you nearly gave me a heart attack! A little heads-up next time, please!!" Jamal cried out in frustration, sighing after.

"Apologies," the Shopkeeper said. "Old habits. I have followed you here for I have forgotten to explain to you this world."

"--wait a second," Anton picked up something as he frowned. "This... world? What do you mean?"

"Precisely that," the Shopkeeper replied. "Only the entrance to Underworld resides within the confines of the Second Crucible. As for where this forsaken realm truly is... perhaps only the Divine know. There are eight portals in total that lead to this place, and only the Conquerors -- or those who have escaped the chains of death -- can inhabit them as the living. This realm is infinite, in as much as any land is; no matter how far west or east or south or north you may go... you shall never reach the edge. I shall also implore you to not stray from the path; many slumbering monsters of the eons past reside here, within the shadows. Though they remain confined within their own tiny lands, they will strike you down if you trespass.

"Though Moru'gh may be an ancient desolation, he is not the ruler of this realm; rather, he's a soldier in an army, more like. The Living here do not belong, Conquerors -- not for long, anyway. My aura shall protect you and ward you from the Nightmares, though not forever. This is a realm where the good and evil, the legends and the myths, the kings and the queens, and even the Divine come to die and rest for all eternity. Even Light, the Eighth Herald, and the one who felled a Crucible resides here.

"Those who appear living that you encounter here are merely Undead, those cursed to a life of death for all eternity. Tread carefully, and do not disturb the sleepers, for they slumber for a good reason."

"... what about the river?" Emma quickly quizzed, afraid that the Shopkeeper might vanish any second just as he showed up. "Up above."

"Ah, Soulform," the Shopkeeper said as he glanced up. "It's not a river -- it's a bridge."

"A bridge?"

"Yes. A bridge between the Realms of the Living and the Realms of the Dead. It is still early for you, I'm afraid. Only Champions may take upon the mantle of a Realmwarper and challenge the bridge. There, the strongest battle the past heroes and villains alike in the ultimate trial of strength.

"History of this place begins long before my time, and time of those before me, and stretches to the timeless vacuum that birthed the First Divine, the Holy Rotecra. The myth goes that Soulform was made of stars and that in their midst a moon appeared, alight with an energy unlike any other -- Mana. The moon, then, conquered the stars and made of their ashes Soulform, connecting two realms together and ushering in the era before the Early New Age -- Nameless Time.

"Myths and legends reign this realm, human Conquerors," the Shopkeeper added, looking at them. "And just as many may be truthful, twice as many are lies. Souls here recount their dying moments for all eternity, inept, destitute, forgotten by everything and everyone. Shall you encounter one that does not... run. Once you have defeated Moru'gh, you shall find a portal beneath his quarters back into the land of the living, where you belong. Ignore the whispers, Conquerors; death is not sweet nor freeing. It is a burning agony that never ends. See..." he pointed his finger sideways, guiding everyone's eyes to a completely transparent apparition that Emma and others immediately recognized.

"I don't want to die... I don't want to die... I don't want to die..." Larua's voice was meek, hollow, and childlike.

"Larua?!" Daniel exclaimed as he stood up, ready to leap over only to find himself tangled by an invisible force. "Let me go!! Let me go!"

"Hush, child," the Shopkeeper said. "She is not the one you knew, but the last echo of her living breath. I want you to be prepared. The dead... weep, Conquerors, and to all kind hearts, there is nothing worse than those wails that pierce into your soul. You will wish to help them anyway you can -- I shall tell you right now... you can't. Nobody can help them. Do not get dragged into the web and get trapped within the dreams you wish were real. For once there... you will never return. I bid you farewell, now, and pray your journey is quick and smooth. Good luck, Conquerors. And I hope to see you soon again."

The Shopkeeper vanished as quickly as he appeared, leaving others sitting, confused. They knew so little of this place that any information would be monumental, yet, for some reason, they believed that the information they just got was well beyond that. Sucking in a cold breath, Emma slightly regretted rushing into this and not waiting for Cain to return. He'd likely have more answers and perhaps could even explain this place better than the Shopkeeper.

Alas, they had to unwind the riddles and vague implications on their own. As far as she understood it, this was 'afterlife', at least in a sense. Wait, something dawned on her. We're fighting this Mor-whatever guy because he's supposedly trying to escape... if he's dead... how can he do that? The cloaked bastard said that only the Conquerors and those above death could come here as a living. I doubt he'd send us to fight someone literally above death... so...

"Moru'gh is a Conqueror... isn't he?" she mumbled aloud, drawing attention to herself.

"Yes," Kramer nodded, having seemingly reached the same conclusion. "If you remember the quest description, it also says that he was 'banished to the bottom'. I thought it just meant the second floor, but..."

"Yeah," Emma nodded. "It meant this place. When we fought the King," she added. "There was a mention of some 'other force', so to say, that is anti-Tower or something. I didn't hear much, but it's possible that's what happened. That he was like us but chose that other side or whatever."

"Welp, once again, speculating won't get us anywhere," Kramer said, sighing. "We'll walk safe, even if it means arriving there an extra day or two late. Don't talk with anyone, don't listen to the ghosts as much as possible, and stick together at all times. Who knows what the fuck we may run into in this place, so we need to be extra careful."

"Yeah," Emma nodded. "Don't stray. I have a feeling this won't just be an easy jog to a boss room..."