Torches swung in circles off the ceiling and their lights formed outlines of everything in the room.

Black and white tiles made up the floors while stacks of ragged rocks stood as the walls.

Hunter pointed at Jack who raised an eyebrow. Then the old man shook his head and waved to the side. Jack turned around and faced an ebony bench. There were dozens of identical others around it and they formed long rows throughout the chamber.

Please, don’t be what I think you are...

A stage occupied the far side of the room. Pieces of stained glass and a golden cross hung above it. A pair of massive torches burned near the stage and made it the only thing constantly in light.

“Oh, powers that be…”

The old man gestured for Jack to stay put and observe. He walked through the aisles and his footsteps echoed off the walls.

Jack sat on the bench and set the heavy urn by his side. At least for a short while, a huge weight came off his shoulders. He put his head in his hands. These dungeons had set off a bad gut feeling. He knew almost nothing about them or what was going on around him. The second he stepped in this church, the gut feeling turned into nauseating sense of wrong.

He could trust Hunter to get them through this.

The old man climbed up the stage. He turned and looked in all directions. A frown formed on his face.

What are you confused about? Jack thought.

In front of Hunter--out of thin air--a large cube appeared. Jack’s eyes narrowed. There wasn’t a whooshing sound or dust that levitated together to form the thing. It just came to be.

Hunter hurried his trench coat off. It revealed a red vest and a white, blood stained shirt. He put his hands atop the cube and then rubbed his face with a liquid.

That thing’s a basin?

Interesting.

Hunter backed off and fell to his knees. He extended his arms to form a T shape and turned his head towards the ceiling.

“Oh father, oh son, oh unholy one,” he chanted. “I am the Hunter… I have returned and I have come to bargain!”

Jack’s ears perked up and his curiosity almost burst out of his veins. He sat straight and turned his ear towards the old man.

Hunter started humming a melody. After a while, he added lyrics to his song.

“Coraimon corava coraxaron, y coraven!”

It’s that tongue!

Those words are like the ones we spoke to the keeper.

Cora… that prefix… what does it mean?

The wall behind the stage shifted and a doorway opened. Jack hopped to his feet. A figure stepped out of the secret exit. He stumbled back to his haunches.

The silhouette revealed itself to be a priest. He dressed no differently than ones in any city of the continent. He wore a black suit, a fancy hat and walked like a king. If not for his greenish skin, Jack couldn’t have told him apart from a person.

The priest approached Hunter, stared at him with cold eyes then nodded.

“Coraceptus, Hunter. Corasimfonus.”

Hunter took a pair of deep breaths and struggled to his feet. He gestured something at the priest then dunked his head in the cube-basin.

It’s a ritual, Jack thought. That dead--if it’s even a dead and not something worse--isn’t attacking him. Like the keeper.

Quietness dragged on as Hunter held his head submerged. Jack’s feet tapped on their own. Then Hunter emerged. As he gasped for air and wiped the liquid off his eyes, music started to play.

A melodic symphony came over the entire church. Jack put his hands on his forehead and scanned for the source, but couldn’t find it: the music came from everywhere.

Hunter started singing a tune along to the symphony. The priest stopped his cold stare and... joined in as well. Together, their voices became louder and louder while Jack’s feet started tapping faster and faster.

As the music reached a crescendo, the priest produced a knife and raised it to head level. In one fell swoop, he sliced his own face off. The piece of meat fell into the basin.

Jack’s jaw dropped and his hand sprung to cover his mouth.

Wisps of white smoke started rising from the basin. Hunter nodded, took an empty glass bottle from his pocket and filled it with the basin’s liquid.

He bargained for some bloody water?! Jack thought, equally confused and terrified.

Small pieces of the priest’s head turned to crimson dust and drifted away revealing the front of his skull. That skull started shifting and turning into white smoke. That smoke engulfed the priest’s head and formed circles around his arms.

Hunter stumbled backwards and his eyes narrowed. “Jack… Jack, give me a hand!” he ordered. “Right damn now!”

Jack’s ready legs jumped and darted towards the stage. He knew it. He knew there was something wrong. Though he couldn’t have guessed it would be this.

“Get… up… here,” Hunter stuttered.

Jack landed beside the old man and wielded his dagger.

“Apparently, I can’t control this necessary evil.”

***

As the priest stepped forth, the music stopped. Jack’s heartbeat filled the sudden silence. Then, massive laughter overshadowed it.

The laughter turned to a voice.

“You left for such a long time, you fool. We thought you understood your idiocy and… the gravity of the situation.” The voice was a whisper with an odd accent. Like the music, it came from everywhere at once. “But you’ve returned. It is sad to know you’re still naive and foolhardy. Or do you think you can outsmart us? You and that errand boy?”

“I’ll do what I’ll do.”

“Not a man of sharing anymore? We see. It would’ve been nice knowing what drove you to this foolish decision again…”

Hunter grunted and stiffened.

“Well… like you said… you’ll do what you do and we… we’ll do that too,” the whispering voice said.

The priest attacked.

Tentacles of white smoke soared out from the priest’s head. Jack and Hunter dodged, jumping in separate directions. The tentacles crashed into the ground where they’d stood. Rubble flew up and rained down.

“Urassen imu cora!” Hunter screamed.

Jack got his balance back, still clueless about what to do. Attack? Run? Hunter probably wouldn’t have asked him up if he wanted him to run.

The old man growled, jerked his head towards the priest and gestured a stabbing motion.

Jack jumped to life and lunged at the priest. His blade stabbed through the deadman’s chest. A bit of crimson dust appeared and floated to the ground.

A tentacle of white smoke hurled towards Jack. His eyes widened and he tripped backwards. The smoke soared above his face.

Wasn’t that a bit too damn close?

Jack strided towards the priest again, grabbed the dagger out of his chest and took a shot at the smoke engulfing his head. The knife went straight through the vapors.

What the hell is that?!

How?!

It flies towards us like a damn arrow of fire, but when I hit it, it’s nothing more than smoke!!

Ah!

In an instant, rage began boiling inside him.

Hunter shouted from behind. “Keep going! Urahore vavn cora!”

Jack’s face turned red. Keep going?! I’m doing nothing! he thought. Nonetheless, he focused all his strength and all his rage, growled and jabbed at the priest again. The dagger made one long slice through the deadman’s chest and legs, leaving a trail of red dust.

The priest attacked back, firing a web of smoke tentacles at Jack. Most of them whooshed by and evaporated, but a narrow pair hit his legs and tangled around them. Jack screamed and fell to the ground. He girated and beat his head on the tiles. The smoke made his legs feel like they burned in a furnace and the veins inside throb with pain.

The priest turned to Hunter and fired a dozen white arrows. They crashed into old man’s chest before he could react and flung him to the wall.

An opportunity opened up. Fighting through the pain, Jack stood up and stabbed where the priest’s heart was meant to be.

Destroying the head isn’t an option, but what about the heart? he thought.

The priest stepped to the left. Jack narrowly missed him and stumbled to the ground.

Things weren’t turning for the best even though they were two and the priest was one. He wasn’t just a mere dead that turned to crimson dust once hit. Jack doubted he was even the same creature as the other deads. He was something different.

The priest ignored most of Jack’s attacks, but once he fought back, no one could dodge him. The priest’s attacks weren’t vicious in the way of the gatekeeper or any other dead they’d met, but in their efficiency. He fired out a blow of smoke and it did more damage than Jack’s dozens of stabs.

There isn’t even a damn way to beat you! Jack thought, landing another pair of slices that produced only more red dust.

“Cora koramo coppo!!!” Hunter roared from behind and his grand voice echoed off the walls of the church. In a flash, everything went still and quiet. The white smoke disappeared from around the priest and deadman started shrinking.

Once he’d shrunk to the size of a doll, he stopped morphing, turned towards Jack and towards Hunter then hopped away into the hidden door behind the stage which shut after he disappeared.

Jack put his hands over his head.

That… that…

Oh, powers that be, I have seen everything.

“Sure, sure…” Hunter said. “Let’s--where’s the urn? Where’s my damn urn?!”

Jack got out of his awe and pointed. “There! I left it on the bench!”

“You left it?!”

Jack cursed under his breath.

Commanders always get angry, don’t they? How did I make them cool off?

Yeah, first I’ve gotta be patient...

Jack took a deep breath. Fighting fire with fire was the last thing he needed to do. “It’s alright. Everything’s like I planned it. It’s still there,” he said and hurried towards the bench. He grabbed the heavy urn and returned to Hunter.

The old man gave Jack a judgmental look and pointed at a wall covered in darkness. “Go there and wait. I’ve gotta finish this ritual.” He landed on his knees.

Wisps of white smoke started to rise from the cube-basin. More of it appeared and started to swirl in circles.

Hunter stood back up and pointed at Jack. “Get that hidden exit open!”

Jack scrambled and glided his hand across the wall. Rock, rock, sharp rock, rock. He didn’t find a secret exit, a button or lever to pull.

“I can’t!” he said.

Hunter jumped off the stage and pushed Jack aside. “Finish the ritual then!”

“How?!”

“You say ‘yrucusos va v’coramaa’ and dip your hand in the water.” The old man waved dismissively.

The ground rumbled and the ever increasing cloud of smoke disappeared. Hunter stopped fumbling with the wall and looked at the basin.

“Huh… Guess you don’t need to finish--”

A massive wave of smoke shout out of the black cube and filled half the chamber in an instant. Hunter’s eyes widened and he returned trying to find the secret exit faster than ever. He tugged and he pushed. The rocks made a low pitched sound, but nothing opened.

The stream of smoke continued, filling more of the room. Jack grew worried and his hands trembled. “When are you gonna open that exit?!”

“When it opens!” Hunter snapped and pulled harder.

Finally, the rocks squealed. The wall shifted and opened and a narrow tunnel into the darkness. Hunter hopped in, waving after himself. Jack followed without hesitating for a moment.

“Close the damn door!” Hunter ordered.

Jack struggled in the darkness, but managed to slam the door shut. Everything was back to still and quiet.

“I have so--”

The smoke shattered the door and tentacles creeped inside.

***

Sweat glued his black hair to his forehead and his lungs were starting to run out of air. He didn’t know for how long he ran after Hunter, but he knew the smoke hadn’t given up.

“When are we gonna stop?!”

“I don’t know!” the old man snapped. “We run and we either survive or we don’t!”

Hunter froze. Jack bumped into his back. “You just said--”

“Oh, I know what this is,” the old man spoke. “There’s a chance to survive!”

“What?”

“Big ass jump that…that thing can’t pass,” Hunter pushed Jack. “Back off.”

The old man made himself a long runway and broke in to a run. He soared over the gap almost invisible in the darkness and landed on the other side. The rocks crunched under his feet.

Jack tightened his grip of Hunter’s urn, inhaled a deep breath and stepped forward, but then burning stung his shoulder. He shrieked. The smoke had reached him. Jack backed away then jumped the gap. For a moment, utter fear consumed him. Then his feet landed, making a large chunk of the ground crumble away into the darkness.

He stood for a while, facing the smoke. It reached the gap and… didn’t go an inch past it. Jack let out a sigh of relief within himself and hurried to catch up with Hunter.

They slowed their pace and caught their breaths. Jack spent a long moment comprehending all that had happened.

First of all, what the hell was that church?! he thought.

In the world above, many faiths held centers of sorcery as holy sites. That’s why most holymen and nuns were sorcerers in secret.

What if that church is a nexus of power? Jack theorized. What if that priest made some sort of mistake and unleashed all that evil upon this land?

Jack didn’t know a lot about sorcery and he could only guess, but nonetheless, things didn’t make sense. His curiosity needed to understand what the hell was going on.

“Ah, this is good,” Hunter said. “We can stop here.”

He lit a match which lit a smoke which lit his lantern. The dim light showed that they were in an opening in the tunnel. It was a wide room with coffins by its walls and spikes hanging off the ceiling.

“We can rest here,” Hunter said, placing his lantern on a steel coffin.

Then, little by little, the ground started to tremble. Jack rolled his eyes instead of getting terrified.

What’s going on now? he thought.

Hunter hugged a wall and gestured for Jack to follow him.

The ground under one of the coffins disappeared, the coffin fell into the darkness and the ground came back. Jack stumbled from the shaking, but grabbed on to Hunter’s trench coat.

“What was all that?!”

“I don’t think you need to know.”

The words twisted Jack’s organs inside out and boiled his blood into steam.

“And I think I do! I’ve already gone too deep. Into whatever this is! This is all insane and I need to know more!!”

“This is my matter,” Hunter said firmly. “Your part isn’t to understand what’s going on. Your part is to help when I say so.”

“I don’t care that this is ‘your matter’! I need to understand or I’ll go batshit insane!”

“I don’t care about your sanity!” Hunter raised his voice.

“You won’t care when the contract is over and I slice your head off or spill this to Company’s Heart?!”

Jack grabbed his mouth. Oh, he thought. Saying that was a grave mistake!

“You say to me another word like that and… you don’t wanna know.”

“Damn you like a bascalle!” Jack cursed. “You won’t even say what you’re gonna do to me?!”

“I’m not even thinking about it. First, change your damn tone!”

Jack sighed and closed his eyes. The anger had taken him again. He counted to ten and spoke.

“I trust you and I will follow our deal. I need that purple rose. Otherwise, I now realize, I’m definitely dead,” he said. “I think that should be enough for you to trust me.”

Hunter grinned for a moment.

“You know… this place, the dungeon and the cemetery above, was all the Hall of Ceremony.” Hunter sighed. “Sure, sure… I shouldn’t be telling you this, but if doing so means you’ll shut up, I’ll cheerfully spill a hundred year secret. You don’t know about it, but the Hall of Ceremony was... an underground castle where the greatest sorcerers of my time would draw their power.”

Jack’s face glowed then goosebumps covered his skin. Finally.

Though he lied, didn’t he? This story is different.

I trust it’s the truth now...

“An underground castle?”

“Well, explorers discovered an immense amount of power here and, soon after, powerful men built a castle on that power. Nobody cared that it was in the middle of nowhere. Or deep underground. Everyone was blinded by its abilities.”

“As we started using the castle, we found out about its... side effects. But no one even thought of abandoning the place. No, we saw gain in those side effects and used the deadman as servants.”

“You’re... saying we, but also said you’re not a sorcerer.”

“I’m not and never was one. Though I was a part of them: I worked for the same cause and I helped them…” The old man went quiet. He tossed his cigarette roach on the ground and continued. “Those days were great and incomprehensible to someone like you. Then one deadman appeared. Sure, sure… you could say deadwoman. I just call them deads and don’t give them dignity of a gender.”

“Anyway, the deadwoman was different. She didn’t follow the sorcerer’s commands. She thought and she spoke like a living person. Also, she controlled an aura of white smoke.”

The same white smoke as the priest?

Also, was that voice her voice?

“I know what you’re thinking,” Hunter said. “In a matter of days, that deadwoman gained control of--more or less--all our servants and ravaged the Hall of Ceremony. Obviously, we had to flee. I wanted to fight, but the sorcerers didn’t. So, instead, we had an agreement. I would stay on the ground above as a cemetery keeper and make sure she, her servants and all the other things didn’t get out. After a while, the sorcerers would gather strength and numbers, and would return to reclaim the Hall of Ceremony. As you guessed, they’re foolhardy liars.”

“And this urn?”

“That urn… it… it contains something that was a crucial part of the Hall of Ceremony. Like a vein in your heart. Without returning it, I cannot leave the cemetery. Sure, sure… The sorcerers were actually meant to come back and put it where it was supposed to be…”

More goosebumps covered Jack’s skin. He almost shook from the words. His vicious curiosity feasted.

“But there are a few deads that help us? Kinda like the gatekeeper?”

The old man chuckled. “Few’s not the word to use when you can count the number on the hand of a mutilated war veteran.”

I thought this whole thing would go deeper, but this far?

Incredible…

“So where do we go after we rest? Where’s the urn supposed to be?”

“We go past trials and terrors. We go deeper than you’ve ever been. Eventually, we go even deeper than I have ever been. We face that deadwoman--Everia she’s called--and bring the urn to the very core of the Hall of Ceremony.”

Jack felt a bit of terror which his newfound excitement and curiosity overshadowed in an instant.