Chapter 45: The Elder's Awakening

The atmosphere inside the chamber was stifling. The energy emanating from the sphere on the altar seemed to vibrate through the walls, making the floor tremble slightly beneath the feet of the old man and the mage. The silence was interrupted only by the pulsing, rhythmic sound of the sphere itself, as if it had a heart beating inside it.

The mage, with his eyes closed and hands raised, muttered incantations in an ancient language, trying to stabilize the unstable energy that threatened to escape. His words echoed throughout the room, mingling with the increasing hum of the sphere. His face was pale, beads of sweat running down his forehead, indicating the immense effort he was making.

The old man watched intently, keeping his guard up. He could sense that something was about to happen. The air was thick with anticipation and a chill ran down his spine. Suddenly, the runes on the walls began to glow brightly, casting a blinding light that flooded the entire space.

The sphere, responding to the wizard's incantations, began to spin faster, its colors changing from pale blue to deep red. The fissures that had once been small now widened, allowing shafts of light to escape, illuminating the chamber as if it were day.

"I can't contain it much longer!" the wizard cried, his voice thick with effort and desperation. "The energy is too strong… it's resisting my spells!"

The old man tightened his grip around his sword, feeling the tension in the air grow. "If we can't stop it from breaking, we must prepare for whatever is inside it," he replied firmly.

With a deafening crack, the sphere exploded, sending out a wave of energy that threw them both backward. The old man slammed into the stone wall, the impact knocking the air from his lungs. The wizard was thrown across the chamber, landing heavily on the floor. Dust and debris scattered through the air, obscuring his vision and making it hard to breathe.

As the dust began to settle, a figure began to form in the center of the altar. At first, it was just a shapeless shadow, but gradually it began to take on a more defined shape. It was a tall, slender entity, wrapped in robes that seemed to be made of darkness itself. Its eyes shone with an intense golden light, and an aura of undeniable power emanated from its presence.

The old man struggled to his feet, his muscles protesting the effort. He fixed his gaze on the figure, trying to assess whether it was an immediate threat. The wizard also rose, though clearly shaken by the impact, his eyes wide with surprise and perhaps a little fear.

The entity spoke, its deep, echoing voice filling every corner of the chamber. "Who dares to free me from my eternal slumber?"

The wizard, regaining some of his composure, took a step forward, though he kept a safe distance. "We have not come to free you, but to prevent your energy from being used against our world," he explained, trying to keep his voice steady.

The figure let out a laugh that echoed through the room, cold and devoid of humor. "Ignorant mortals. You toy with forces you do not understand. I am Azaroth, the Ancient of Twilight, sealed here millennia ago to protect this world from my wrath. And now, thanks to you, I am free again." The old man exchanged a worried look with the mage. This was not the situation they had anticipated. If this being was as powerful as he claimed, his release could pose an even greater threat than the war they were trying to prevent. "We did not intend to free him," the old man said, trying to remain calm. "But now that he is free, what is his intention? To retaliate against a world that does not even know of his existence?" Azaroth turned his piercing gaze to the old man, assessing him. "My intention? I no longer have ties to this world. But I sense that the dark energy that sealed me away is now spreading, corrupting the land and its inhabitants. Perhaps I must reclaim what is rightfully mine." The mage quickly intervened. "If this dark energy is corrupting the world, perhaps we can work together to contain it. You need not be our enemy." The elder seemed to ponder for a moment, his glowing eyes fading in intensity. "An interesting proposition, little mage. But why should I, a being of immeasurable power, ally myself with frail mortals such as yourselves?" The old man sensed a spark of hope in the entity's hesitation. "Because together, we can restore balance. You may find a purpose beyond destruction, perhaps even redemption." Azaroth laughed again, but this time there was less malice in his voice. "Redemption? A curious word. Very well, mortals. I will observe what this world has to offer before deciding your fate. Consider this a temporary truce."

Before they could respond, Azaroth dissolved into a cloud of shadows, vanishing as suddenly as he had appeared.