Chains of Vengeance

Chapter 47: The Eye of Chaos: The Conquest of Narinder

The journey through Darkwood proved to be as fruitful as Narinder had anticipated. Every step he took provided him with valuable resources: wood, stones, and bones that enemies—either fallen or fleeing—left behind. His presence, marked by an aura of death and destruction, was enough to make creatures scatter at the sight of him. The dark forest, with its thick underbrush and twisted trees corrupted by evil, seemed to bow before Narinder, as if the very place recognized his power.

The sound of his footsteps echoed in the empty clearings where monsters once reigned. Sometimes he would stop briefly, raising his scythe to cut away some vegetation that blocked his path or collecting a bone fragment that shimmered faintly in the light filtering through the dense foliage. His stride was relentless, as if each second gained or resource accumulated was another step toward his ultimate goal: Leshy's relic.

Finally, Narinder arrived at the entrance of the temple where he could take the 120 steps to find the hidden treasure, but what awaited him was not a simple encounter with his prize. Floating above the entrance, in all its corrupt glory, was Agares, the witness who had once been loyal to Leshy, now deformed by dark ichor. His purple fur glowed in the dimness of the forest, marked with symbols of power and corruption, and his three red eyes pierced Narinder as if they could see into his soul. The four horns of Agares, two of them tangled in wire, gave him an even more sinister appearance, further evidence of how divine power had transformed him into something grotesque.

Narinder clicked his tongue in frustration and smiled disdainfully, gripping the scythe in his hand. "Of course, this wasn't going to be easy, was it?" he murmured in a sardonic tone. His body took a combat-ready stance as his eyes fixed on each of Agares's erratic movements.

The flying creature wasted no time and charged at Narinder with fury, striking him like a purple bullet. Narinder blocked the impact with his scythe, deflecting Agares to the side, but the shockwaves from the attack kicked up dust and leaves around them. Before he could recover, Agares summoned several lesser minions: small, corrupted frogs and demons that emerged from the ground like mere shadows. Narinder, unfazed, raised his hand and unleashed his aura of death, dissipating most of the summons as they appeared. The lesser demons disintegrated under his presence before they could even get close.

Agares charged again, this time with greater speed, his three eyes blazing with an almost divine fury. Narinder moved skillfully, dodging the attack and delivering a sweeping blow with his scythe that cut through the air, striking the corrupted flesh of Agares. The creature let out an inhuman shriek and flapped its wings, retreating wounded but not defeated.

The cycle continued: Agares would charge, summon more minions, and Narinder, with his relentless control over magic and death, would nullify each of his attempts. The corrupted witness began to weaken, and each charge was more desperate than the last. Finally, Narinder gathered all his power into a single strike, charging his scythe with dark energy, and when Agares lunged once more, Narinder countered with a swift and lethal motion, cleaving the creature's body in midair.

Agares's body halted abruptly, floating for a moment before crashing heavily to the ground. A cloud of dark ichor and corrupt energy rose upon impact but soon began to dissolve, leaving only a purple stain on the earth.

Narinder exhaled slowly, watching as Agares disintegrated into dust before his eyes. With a slight gesture of satisfaction, he collected the next god tear that Agares left behind upon his defeat alongside the eye of the witness. His gaze turned towards the entrance of the temple, knowing that now the true prize awaited him beyond the door.

Narinder positioned himself at the temple entrance, his gaze fixed on the horizon as the crown he wore slowly changed shape, transforming into a dark compass with a needle that seemed to move to the rhythm of his will. "One hundred twenty steps..." he murmured to himself, beginning to walk with military precision. Each step resonated in the ground like a deep echo as he ventured into the vast expanse surrounding the ancient temple of Leshy. The dark forest of Darkwood seemed to watch him silently, as if nature itself recognized the dark power emanating from him.

As Narinder progressed, the scent in the air began to change. The acrid odor of the rotting forest gave way to a softer, sweeter fragrance, something he hadn't smelled in a long time. Camellia flowers in their purest state. Finally, after the one hundred twentieth step, a massive cave rose before him, completely hidden by hundreds of those flowers that seemed to glow in the dim light of the area. The camellias were large, with delicate petals and an intoxicating aroma. At first glance, it could have been a sacred place, a refuge. But Narinder knew that inside awaited something much more powerful.

Without hesitation, he entered the cave. The dimness enveloped him immediately, but as his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he saw it. Floating in the center of the cavern was a gigantic red eye, surrounded by a halo of energy that made it glow in the dark. Narinder paused for a second, his lips twisting into a malevolent smile, and then he let out a laugh that echoed off the rocky walls of the cave.

"I did it..." he whispered between laughs, with a madness that only he could understand. He had obtained the first of the four relics he had long desired, another power in his growing arsenal. With determination, Narinder approached the floating eye and, without further ado, took it into his hands. A surge of energy coursed through his body instantly. In his mind, the crown projected the description of the relic: "Do not see evil - Orbital eyes that harm enemies on contact."

With satisfaction, Narinder stored the relic in his infinite pocket, savoring the success. But he was not finished. "I still have one more thing to do..." he murmured to himself, turning on his heels and heading back the way he came.

Upon exiting the cave, his steps led him back to the entrance of the temple of chaos, the place where he had defeated Leshy some time ago. The gigantic hall where he had fought an epic battle was now empty, but it still retained the atmosphere of chaos. Memories of that fight swirled in his mind, but Narinder was not there to reminisce about the past.

With a grim smile, he extended his hands and channeled his power. Around him, dark magic began to concentrate, forming a dense miasma of corrupt ichor. Slowly but surely, Narinder began to splatter that magical ichor all over the hall. The temple walls, the floor, even the ceiling began to be coated with that viscous, dark liquid. The drops of ichor glimmered momentarily before saturating the structure. But it was not enough. Narinder was still not satisfied.

With a snap of his fingers, the power he had concentrated ignited. Flames began to consume everything, slowly at first, but then with ferocity. The ichor acted as fuel, spreading the fire quickly and devastatingly. Narinder watched in silence as the temple crumbled, the ancient stones falling and breaking, while the fire engulfed everything in its path. He would not allow the place to remain standing; he would reduce it to mere ruins so that no one else could use it.

When he was sure there would be nothing left, Narinder raised his hand once more and, with a dark flash, teleported back to the cult. Exhausted but victorious.