The blue torches that had illuminated our path throughout the catacombs were sparse here, mounted at irregular intervals along walls that grew rougher and less refined with each step.
And it was cold.
In fact, cold might not have been the best way to describe it. It felt like the warmth was sucked out of the air, sending chills down my spine. It’s the first time I feel something like this.
The first torch we passed flickered a couple of times before going out.
"The cold is extinguishing them," Lothras observed, his voice tight.
As if responding to his words, the next torch died, followed by all the others in our path in quick succession. A wave of darkness crept up from below, swallowing the light one flame at a time.
"We need another light source," Kara said, an edge of panic in her voice. "I can't see anything."
"Lune," I said, "Foxfire."
My companion looked at me with calm eyes.
Then those same eyes lit up, and soon after, ethereal flames kindled up above her, growing brighter until it blazed like the warm flames of a torch. Orange light spilled across the corridor, pushing back the darkness.
"That works," Athos said, relief evident in his tone.
We continued our descent, Lune padding ahead of us with her Foxfire lighting the way. The cold intensified with each step, that oppressive pressure growing stronger despite the warmth of the skill.
The absence of the temperature somehow felt intentional. As if it had a presence of its own
. Something was there, at the end of this path, and its mere existence challenged the thermodynamics of the place.
The corridor opened into a vast natural cavern, and for a moment, we all stopped.
A staircase stretched before us, not carved, but formed from the earth and the rock itself. It descended at a steep angle, hundreds of steps disappearing into the darkness below. The cavern walls were visible for the first few meters on either side, rough stone glistening with moisture, but a couple steps after, they completely disappeared.
Beyond them was nothing. An abyss so deep and dark that even Lune's Foxfire couldn't penetrate it. The staircase continued downward, like a path suspended over an infinite void.
"Stay close," Lothras said quietly. "And avoid sudden movement. A fall here probably means instant death."
We began the descent.
The stairs were wide enough for one person to walk comfortably, but the lack of railings, or rather the lack of anything between us and the endless drop, made every step feel precarious. I kept my eyes fixed on the stone beneath my feet, fighting the primal urge to look over the edge.
Kara was less successful. I heard her sharp intake of breath as she glanced into the void.
"Don't look," Athos advised from behind her. "Just focus on the stairs."
"Easy for you to say," she muttered, but she fixed her gaze forward.
“Acrophobia?” I asked.
“More or less. Bad memories, mostly.”
I didn’t pry, but I put my hand on her shoulder. I could feel her easing up. She didn’t say anything, but I knew she was grateful for the support.
The descent felt endless. Minutes stretched into what seemed like hours, the only constants being the steady glow of Lune's flames and the sound of our footsteps on the stone floor.
We adjusted to the cold, the game’s system clearly stepping in to make it bearable. But we could still feel its presence.
And that presence grew stronger with every step.
Finally, the stairs began to level out. The void on either was once again framed by walls, rough stone pressing close as the passage narrowed. Ahead, I could faintly see the outline of an archway, another door waiting at the end of our descent.
We stopped a few meters from the entrance to gather ourselves a bit.
Then the notification appeared.
Intimidated. There's something in your vicinity that has an overwhelming presence! Be cautious!
Don’t tell me.
I recalled the last and only time something similar had happened to me. It was right in the first couple hours of playing, when I wandered too far into one of the caves of Fang Forest. The feeling of unspeakable danger, the sensation of fear, is nearly perfectly replicated by the system.
But it wasn’t the same this time.
The Intimidated debuff still appeared, but it felt like I could push against it. This time, the prompt warned me to be cautious.
It didn’t tell me to run.
Kara made a small sound beside me. "What... what is that?"
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"A warning," Lothras said grimly. "I've heard of these. High-level content sometimes triggers them when you're approaching something significantly more powerful than you."
"I've never seen one before," Athos admitted. His hand was on his sword, knuckles white.
"Neither have I," Kara whispered.
“I have.”
They all looked at me.
I scratched my head. “The good news is, from the way the prompt is worded, we have a chance. The last time something like this happened to me, I was basically told to flee the scene.”
“Good. Subtle changes in system behaviour are important. If we’re not told to give up, we’re killing whatever it is.”
Athos and Kara looked at each other. “I mean, we can’t just not try. We fail the quest either way,” the Bard said.
Both she and Lothras were right. This was a much subtler warning, not the same as before.
And I wasn't the same player I’d been back then, either.
“We have faced a lot of challenges together. I can’t imagine that there is something on our level that this party can’t clear.”
“Yeah, but maybe we should try bringing those plus two players,” Kara smiled. “You know, in case we have to split up and someone without a pet finds themselves facing a two-player puzzle.”
I shrugged. “Good idea.”
Lothras straightened, squaring his shoulders. "The ranger's right. As unbelievable as it is, you all are capable players." He drew his sword, the blade gleaming in Foxfire’s light. "Whatever's behind that door, we face it together."
Athos rolled his eyes at the snarky comment, but he still drew his own weapon. "Together."
Kara took a deep breath. “You should try oratory, tin can.” There was no edge in her words. “But yeah, what you said.”
I nocked an arrow in advance, the veins on my Longbow pulsing with the light of crimson cinders. Lune pressed against my leg. I was debating on desummoning her, but I had a feeling we needed every ounce of help we could get.
Foxfire ended, and I decided not to reuse it. When the time comes, that regen might come in handy.
"Let's finish this."
We walked through the archway.
The chamber beyond was circular, sixty meters in diameter, with a domed ceiling that reminded me of medieval churches across Europe.
The decor was familiar, but it felt like the creators had cranked the creepiness factor up by a lot. The walls were lined with alcoves, each one containing bones arranged in those same ritualistic patterns we'd seen throughout the catacombs.
But these bones were moving.
Subtle shifts, tiny adjustments; the skeletal remains in each alcove seemed to breathe, their empty eye sockets tracking our entrance with horrible awareness. They didn't attack, didn't emerge from their niches. They simply watched.
The door ground shut behind us.
Then the torches ignited.
It started at the entrance, twin flames bursting to life on either side of the sealed door. Purple fire, cold and unnatural, casting stark shadows across the chamber. The ignition spread in both directions, racing along the curved walls, each torch flaring to life in rapid succession.
The light chased itself around the room, illuminating more and more of the chamber with each passing second: the bone formations, the ritual circles carved into the floor, the channels that radiated outward from the center, stained dark with ancient blood.
And then the final torches ignited, and we saw what waited for us at the heart of the room.
I'd seen The Sacrificer and thought nothing could be more grotesque.
I was wrong.
The thing that stood in the center of the chamber might have been human once, centuries ago. It had two arms, two legs, a torso, a head. That checked out.
However, everything else had been twisted beyond recognition, most likely transformed by dark rituals and even darker ambitions.
Its body was elongated, stretched to nearly four meters in height, limbs too long, and joints bending in directions that made my eyes water to follow.
The skin was translucent and grey, revealing not muscle and bone beneath but a constantly shifting mass of dark energy that pulsed like a diseased heart.
Its torso was split open from throat to navel, the cavity filled with the most unsettling pairs of eyes I had ever seen. Dozens of them, different sizes, different colors, all of them blinking independently, all of them fixed on us with different emotions.
Its arms ended in hands with too many fingers, each one tipped with a claw that gleamed like polished obsidian.
Symbols had been carved into every inch of its flesh, the same ritualistic patterns from the walls, glowing with faint purple light.
And its face...
It had no face. Where features should have been, there was only a smooth expanse of the same grey, translucent skin, except for a single vertical slit that ran from forehead to chin.
As we watched, the slit peeled open, revealing a mouth filled with concentric rings of teeth that spiraled down into a throat of infinite darkness.
When it spoke, the voice boomed, as if from speakers, resonating in our skulls rather than our ears.
"Children."
The word was welcoming and friendly, but it could have fooled nobody.
"You've come so far. You even met my most devoted servant, and you destroyed him. The guardians I left behind—swept aside like dust."
It took a step toward us, its grotesque body moving with fluid grace.
"How long have I been here? I cannot tell you. But I knew I was waiting for something—someone—to come. Is it you, children?"
The eyes in its chest all blinked in unison.
"Yes. It is you! Why, thank you for visiting me in my humble chamber! You are gifts to my sore eyes. All of them, haha!"
Another step. The torches flickered as it passed.
"You've opened the way. You've broken the seal. And now..."
The mouth-slit curved upward in what might have been a smile.
"Now I can complete what I began."
The system notification appeared, confirming what we already knew.
The High Priest spread his arms wide, dark energy crackling between its fingers.
"Come, children. Add your lives to my congregation. Help me achieve what I was always meant to become."
I looked at the others. Obviously, they were all creeped out, but their resolve was solid as steel.
I raised my bow.
"Not a chance."