aamon paxley X o.c. • the duke and the runaway

39.

"So this is it..." Said Valentina.

The trio passed by the orcs and the demons who were roaming the area of the Abyss. There were smoldering fires and glowing lava that provide light within the dark crevasse of this inferno. With every step, the three humans felt a heavy dark energy that settled around them like a thick rain cloud.

Aamon's throat felt hoarse and dry as he struggled to breathe in oxygen, however, the residual ashes flying about in the atmosphere made his lungs hurt. He also scrunched his face, furrowing his brows as he sensed the rusty scent of blood and disgusting fluids everywhere. He could imagine this place being a massive furnace where evil cooks its victims' corpses.

Natan incoherently swore beneath his ragged breath as his skin accidentally brushed against a steaming black stone which was hissing like a raw meat upon a frying pan.

Meanwhile, Valentina uncomfortably shifted in her spot, her dainty fingers curling and her hands clenching into fists. Her orifices scanned the surroundings, her palms beginning to glow some magic.

"We are going to head forward," the ash grey-haired man said while he glanced repetitively at the half-formed Agate in his hand. It glowed and flickered like a burning star.

"Perhaps the Celestial Guardian is nearby," the Eruditian stated.

"Hopefully," Valentina responded, "If she is able to escape. We may not know what Kalon might be doing to her right now."

Her Paxley descendant hitched a breath, somehow agitated at her statement, "I know her more than you do, Valentina. I know that she'll escape."

"I am just merely stating inevitable possibilities that we might face," she said while Natan shook his head at the both of them.

His left spectacle flashed due to the lighting of the flames. "Whatever the possibilities may be, let us look at the bright side of things. We are here to get rid of that demon from Gusion's body then rescue him and the guardian out of here."

Aamon opened his mouth to speak but was cut off by a loud, shrieking orc from a distance.

"Seize her!"

.

"Ack," she grunted upon stumbling once more, "I have to get out of here."

Seraphima carelessly pressed her swollen ankle on the smooth stone, hissing and biting her lower lip to refrain herself from screaming in the process. She was trying to ascend the cresting hill before her that slowed her run,  experiencing a difficult ordeal on climbing up with an annoying injury.

Giving her perpetrators a backward glance, the female saw the same reddish orc that was holding an axe followed by the others. They all glared at her with a murderous hunger that was evident in their pupil-less eyes.

The Crisiant woman wished that she would be able to cultivate her light crystal darts, however, the enchanted cuffs that bound her hands refrained her from doing so. She was defenseless and unarmed but she believed— well, hoped that things would turn out in her favor.

Out of the corner of her eye, she found a nearby bridge that hovered over a rushing river of hot orange lava. She huffed as she began to sprint towards it, not stopping for her sprained ankle that affect her badly. Blood trickled from her lower lip, realizing that she must have bit down too hard. Nevertheless, she didn't pay attention to it.

That bridge must be a path way out and she has to get to it.

The leading orc followed her gaze and screamed at the top of his lungs whilst swinging his axe wildly, "Seize her!"