Lord Aldric of Sanctus Keep

Beyond the Decaying Forest and the accursed Corridor of the Damned, where the World of Darkness began, lay the Domain of Light, the first floor of the Dungeon of Azarick.

Returning to the Corridor of the Damned, learning more about the Holy Knights and the existence of humans, Clinton learned more about this world.

Or more precisely, this dungeon.

The Dungeon of Azarick was divided into 2 parts, the world of darkness whose first floor was the Decaying Forest and the world of light where the Holy Knights and the humans came from.

Unlike the nightmarish abyss that lurked beneath, the Domain of Light was vast, radiant, and sacred.

The skies above were not open, yet they glowed with golden light, as if an eternal dawn had been captured and preserved within the dungeon’s walls.

Marble spires and glorious-white stone cities stretched across the horizon, their foundations carved into the floating cliffs and suspended walkways that made up this realm.

Rivers of pure mana flowed freely, shimmering with the essence of divinity, sustaining both the land and its inhabitants.

Here, Holy Knights, Clerics, and Lightbringers patrolled the streets, their silver and gold armor gleaming as they upheld the sacred laws of this world.

Among them were humans, elves, and divine-blooded beings, their very presence a stark contrast to the horrors that dwelled below.

At the heart of this celestial domain stood Sanctus Keep, a grand fortress that served as both a temple and a command center for those who governed the first floor of the Dungeon of Azarick.

It was here that Seraphim and her warriors arrived, their faces grim.

They entered.

Within the hallowed halls of Sanctus Keep, surrounded by towering stained glass windows depicting ancient victories over darkness stood Lord Aldric, the Chieftain of the First Floor.

A middle-aged human with silver-streaked hair and sharp golden eyes, he carried himself with the air of a seasoned commander, a man who had seen countless battles yet remained unyielding as steel.

Draped in a flowing white cloak, the sigil of Solara, the Goddess of Light embroidered across his chest, he exuded a presence that demanded respect.

His gauntleted hands rested on the pommel of his sheathed sword as he listened to the returning knights.

Seraphim knelt before him.

“Lord Aldric, we bring a most… disturbing report”.

Aldric studied her, his expression unreadable. “Rise and speak”.

Seraphim stood; her voice steady but laced with unease. “A skeleton has escaped the Corridor of the Damned”.

A wave of murmurs immediately spread through the gathered commanders and warriors in the chamber. The idea of an undead fleeing into the abyss rather than being purged by holy fire was absurd, unnatural.

Aldric’s gaze darkened. “Explain”.

Seraphim continued, detailing the bizarre series of events.

She hid nothing, from the skeleton’s intelligence and unnatural will to survive, to how it reassembled itself after being struck down.

Its ability to move with cunning as if it still retained human intelligence. Its refusal to die, even when faced with certain annihilation.

She took a breath before concluding. “This skeleton… fought. It fought like a warrior with everything to lose”.

Aldric’s expression remained impassive, but those closest to him could see the flicker of concern in his golden eyes.

“A low-tier undead displaying such behavior is unheard of”. He turned to the gathered warriors. “And you are certain it survived?”

Seraphim nodded. “Yes, my lord. It defeated the Gate Guardian and descended into the World of Darkness”.

“We do not know its fate beyond that”.

Aldric exhaled slowly, his fingers tightening around the pommel of his sword. “Send word to the elders. This… anomaly must be monitored”.

His gaze shifted to the golden horizon beyond the windows. “If the darkness below has birthed something unnatural, we must be prepared”.

With that, Seraphim’s warriors finally left.

The Domain of Light remained untouched, as beautiful and radiant as ever.

But for the first time in centuries, a shadow of uncertainty crept into its halls.

…

After the official report had been delivered, the council dispersed, though their murmurs of disbelief and concern still echoed through the marbled halls of Santus Keep.

Saraphim, however, was not dismissed. Only her warriors left.

As the others departed, Lord Aldric remained seated, his golden eyes sharp with unspoken thoughts.

When the chamber doors finally shut, sealing them away from prying ears, he leaned forward.

“You withheld something”. His voice was calm, yet edged with certainty.

Seraphim stiffened but did not feign ignorance. She had served under Aldric for years, there weas no fooling him.

“Yes, my lord”. She admitted.

Aldric gestured toward the side door leading to his personal chambers, a private study where only the highest-ranking commanders were ever permitted. “Come”. He led the way.

Unlike the grandiose halls of Sanctus Keep, Aldric’s personal chambers were modest, lined with war charts, holy scriptures, and relics from past battles.

A single brazier burned softly, casting flickering light across the ornate weapons mounted on the walls, each one a testament to a war fought in defense of light.

Aldric removed his cloak, placing it over the chair before he turned to face Seraphim. “Speak freely”.

Seraphim hesitated for only a moment before she exhaled. “The skeleton…, is not just an anomaly of the undead. It is a craftsman”.

Aldric’s eyes narrowed immediately. “A craftsman?”

Seraphim nodded. “I saw it with my own eyes. It created weapons- wooden weapons at first, nothing extraordinary. But later…, it crafted something else”.

She swallowed. “A mythical weapon”.

Aldric’s expression did not change, but Seraphim could feel the shift in the air. The heavy silence, the way his fingers curled slightly against the armrest of his chair.

“…Describe it”.

Seraphim clenched her fists. “With my Inspect magic, I saw its stats. It called the weapon Magedon, Light Slayer. A weapon forged from the bone of a Doom Knight. And my Lord…”

She met his gaze, her expression betraying her unease. “…It held the power to kill”.

Aldric remained silent, waiting for her to continue.

Seraphim pressed on. “The weapon possesses terrifying abilities. It wields Corrosion and Paralysis passively, but its true strength lies in its active abilities”.

“I witnessed it teleport into the skeleton’s grasp, allowing it to fight with unpredictable mobility. Worse…, I saw it mark its target with death itself”.

She inhaled sharply before saying the last part. “And then there is the final skill. A gamble, a curse”. She muttered uncertainly. “By sacrificing most of its own life, the skeleton an activate a chance at instant death”.

Aldric slowly rose from his seat, stepping toward the brazier, his features cast in golden firelight.

“A skeleton, forging a mythical weapon,” he murmured. “An undead, crafting the tools of war…,” his voice was unreadable. “And it killed the Gate Guardian?”

Seraphim nodded. “Yes, my lord. It was outmatched. By all logic, it should have perished”.

“And yet, it outwitted the Guardian through sheer strategy… and that weapon”.

Aldric turned to face her and for the first time, she saw something flicker behind his golden eyes, concern.

Not fear. Not anger, but concern.

He clasped his hands behind his back. “If the council had known this, they would have ordered an immediate purge without any regard for losses”.

Seraphim bowed her head. “That is why I did not speak of it before them”.

Aldric studied her for a long time.

Finally, he sighed. “You made the right decision”.

Seraphim lifted her gaze, surprised.

“The council would have panicked. The thought of an undead wielding a weapon of that caliber…,” Aldric shook his head. “They would have sent a crusade into the depths of the dungeon. But we do not even know what we’re dealing with”.

He walked toward his study table, tracing a gloved hand over an ancient tome. “We will not act in ignorance”.

Seraphim straightened. “Then…, what do we do?”

Aldric exhaled. “For now, we watch. If this skeleton is truly a craftsman of death, we cannot afford to move recklessly”.

His golden eyes burned. “An undead with the ability to create…, such a thing has never existed before”.

He turned back toward Seraphim.

“And I intend to know why”.