Danmachi Familia from Hell

16

It was hard to say whether the Field of Doom inspired more dread by day, when every corpse had the chance to display the full extent of its rot in the sunlight, or by night, when in the darkness a traveler's face could suddenly be met by a skull, through whose sockets various insects happened to be passing at the time.
Hades had seen worse things in his life, just as Belakher who had witnessed the death of his closest companions, the fall of his homeland, and who wielded the power to breathe life into still corpses. And so, though the scale of cruelty and slaughter on the fortress's approaches still left its mark on them, no fear could be found in their hearts.
In silence they passed Rakians, Motulians, local peasants, and wandering travelers from all four corners of the world, slowly ascending the hill on which stood the fortress-ancient in its very presence. Seven centuries ago, there must have been a carefully beaten road leading to it, but long ago it had been overgrown with grass and lined with stakes fashioned from blood, topped with the impaled bodies of unwanted guests.
After a climb of about twenty minutes, they stood before the open gates of the castle and the lowered portcullis, eaten through entirely by rust. One Ghostcrowd would be enough to smash it to pieces-though also enough to provoke the host into attack.

- Void - said the elf.

A dark pool spread beneath the Landgrave's feet. From it, he drew the bident given to him years ago by the god of death, after which the black liquid vanished, as if it had soaked into the earth. Neither the violet-eyed elf nor his lord intended to strike first, but that did not mean they would allow themselves to be caught unarmed.
Moments later, the elf and his master climbed a mound of ivy-covered bricks, partially concealing a gap in the wall several meters wide. In the darkness of night, an ordinary man would have had a good chance of slipping and breaking his neck. Fortunately, the god of death had much in common with darkness. It was not his direct attribute-he could not, by means of the Arcanum, command shadows or dim the sun-but he had enough affinity with it to see well in the dark, even without divine power. Landgrave, meanwhile, had eyesight and other senses enhanced by his level three status, and several centuries spent living in an earthen hut had taught him to adapt to meager light.
After overcoming the obstacle, they found themselves in the inner courtyard. Neither of them commented on the fact that there were even more impaled bodies here than on the fortress's approaches. The corpses were so old that not only had every trace of flesh vanished from the skeletons, but their limbs and skulls often lay scattered on the ground, having fallen off with age. The torsos themselves were overgrown with various plants, vines, and weeds. To Hades, a dandelion sprouting from a skull's empty socket seemed as though some mad god, bored, had decided to merge the harmonious calm of Elysium with the hellish darkness of Tartarus.
Belakher, meanwhile, kept a careful watch on everything around them, especially the watchtower. It was from there, three days ago, that he had been struck by the paralyzing gaze of the castle's master. Now, however, he felt neither that cold nor anything else. The fortress seemed deserted. He could sense no life save for worms and spiders, whose webs were thicker than harp strings. Thanks to Leila, however, he knew better than to be fooled by such an illusion. The host might be invisible, his presence undetectable-but that did not mean he was absent from his home.
With that thought repeating in their minds like a mantra, the King of the Underworld and his follower made their way between corpses set only a few paces apart, until they reached a pair of vine-covered doors leading into the fortress. Though, "doors" was perhaps an understatement. Despite the wear of centuries, the two massive wooden wings were worthy of being called gates. Landgrave would have wagered any sum that steel beams waited on the other side to bar them in case of attack. Belakher slashed away the greenery with a few strokes of his weapon, and with Hades's help, they managed to open the entrance-its hinges ready to fall apart at any moment-revealing that his guess had been correct.
As they crossed the threshold, the stench of stale air struck them, and the farther they went down the five-meter-wide corridor. Its rotting carpet squelching underfoot-the heavier the suffocating atmosphere became. Clearly, no one had bothered to air the place for centuries, perhaps a sign that the current owner had no need for oxygen.
Empty, metallic torch holders-long since devoured by rust-hung from the walls, where once they would have illuminated the darkness surrounding Belakher and Hades.
Moving forward, they reached the main hall, which also served as a crossroads. They could take the corridor to the right, the one to the left, or climb the stairs to the upper floor, which split in two directions as well.
The elf thought that, once, this place must have been truly beautiful. At their feet lay shattered crystal-the remains of a chandelier whose rusted chain could no longer bear its weight. The walls had once been adorned with triangular shields painted with the coats of arms of the family that ruled the castle and the province. Time had erased the paint, leaving only brown-orange corrosion. The hooks that had held them were similarly rusted, and the shields now lay scattered along the walls instead of hanging upon them. The stairs leading up had precisely carved railings, and each step matched the others to the millimeter in every respect-but long ago they had lost their lacquer's shine. Like nearly everything else, they had become supports for climbing plants, and the ever-watchful Hades noticed a massive hole in one step. It could have been a coincidence, but it matched the story told by the innkeeper's daughter. Earlier, he had also taken note of the vine-covered fountain in the courtyard-another detail proven true. Most importantly, despite having ventured deep inside the fortress, neither had yet been attacked in any way.