Chapter 16: Twilight’s Aftermath

Dull throbbing and the scent of medicinal salves gradually pulled Reziel from the void of unconsciousness. His eyes fluttered open, taking in the soft glow of a mage's healing orb drifting overhead. Aria Highwind's silhouette hovered nearby, her features blurred at first, then sharpening as he blinked away the haze.

They were still in the Hall of Unholy Rites, though the chaos had quieted. Most cultists lay bound or unconscious around the crumbling pillars. Violet braziers sputtered weakly, their once-malevolent light reduced to flickers. Through the gaps in the cavernous walls, Reziel glimpsed other knights moving around, tending the wounded and examining rubble. The oppressive tension that had choked the air before now felt subdued, as if the failed ritual's energy had finally dissipated.

Aria knelt beside Reziel, relief etched across her dirt-smudged face. "You're awake." Her voice was hushed, carrying a trace of lingering worry.

"Awake," he echoed, croaking the word as if he hadn't spoken in days. A strangled cough rattled his lungs. His body still felt like he'd been run through a gauntlet—limbs heavy, head spinning. Overlimit… I really pushed it. But at least he was alive.

His gaze dropped to his own torso. Someone had removed the shredded remains of his shirt, exposing a fresh bandage where his side wound had been. More distressing were the dark, bruise-like marks branching faintly across his ribcage, as if corrupted veins had surfaced under his skin.

Aria followed his eyes. "We're not entirely sure what happened," she murmured, brushing hair from her face. Soot and dried blood streaked her cheeks. "Sir Galland mentioned you unleashed a massive Dark Rupture, but it was different… more violent."

A chill coursed through Reziel. "It was the System," he managed, voice hoarse. "I was out of mana. I guess it forced me into some Overlimit state." He swallowed against a bitter taste in his mouth. That might be how the System grows stronger… or how I burn myself out.

Aria reached for a small pot of herbal ointment on the floor. "We had Anora and one of the other clerics do what they could. Your mana channels took a beating. It's… stable for now, but they advised rest. Serious rest."

He exhaled shakily. "Not sure we'll get that luxury yet."

Knight-Lieutenant Anora approached from across the hall, her healing orb drifting alongside her. She looked pale, her eyes ringed with exhaustion. "Reziel." She inclined her head in greeting. "I've stabilized your condition as best I can, but this Overlimit phenomenon is beyond standard healing. It'll take time for your body—and soul—to recover."

He nodded his thanks, though worry gnawed at him. "How's the rest of the squad?"

Anora's gaze flicked over her shoulder. "We lost two knights in that final clash—one from Galland's group, one from Aria's. The cult fought to the death. We've got half a dozen wounded. But the chamber is secure now." Her tired eyes hardened. "The ritual was disrupted, at least. If you hadn't shattered that shield, they might have completed whatever they were doing."

Reziel's throat tightened. At what cost, though? Aloud, he only managed a weary "I'm sorry about the knights we lost."

Aria rested a hand on his shoulder. "They knew the risks. We'll honor their memory by finishing what we started."

Sir Galland soon joined them, his armor dented and a makeshift bandage wrapped around his bicep. He wiped sweat and grime from his forehead, surveying Reziel with relief. "Good to see you awake. You gave us a scare."

Reziel mustered a weak smile. "Likewise, Captain."

Galland's gaze swept the ruined dais, its runes burned out and the vortex gone. "We've questioned a few conscious cultists. They confirmed there's a deeper catacomb below—likely where their true 'sealed sanctum' lies. Whatever half-baked ritual they were doing here was meant to strengthen wards deeper down."

Anora frowned. "In other words, we only broke the first or second line of their defenses."

Galland nodded. "Yes. And the cult's most devout or powerful members are likely below, preparing for a final stand. We'll need every advantage we can muster."

His eyes flitted to Reziel's bandaged torso. "You, however, are in no condition to keep fighting on the front line. Your Overlimit attack may have saved us here, but it nearly killed you."

Reziel swallowed, tasting an odd mix of guilt and defiance. "I don't want to abandon you. Not when we're so close."

Aria chimed in, her tone firm yet gentle. "Reziel, you can barely stand. Galland's right—you need recovery time."

He clenched his jaw, frustration simmering. "Then how will we handle the deeper wards if I'm not there to counter them? We all know the System's power is key to dealing with these forbidden spells."

Silence hung between them. Galland exchanged a look with Aria, then exhaled. "We'll figure something out. Maybe once you've rested a bit more, you can accompany us as support. But pushing another Overlimit could be fatal."

Anora and a few knights set about reinforcing the hall—moving rubble to secure an exit path, and extinguishing leftover dark flames around the dais. Sir Galland organized a temporary campsite at one end of the cavern, where the wounded could rest and a defensive perimeter could be maintained.

Aria helped Reziel to his feet. He leaned on her shoulder, legs wobbling. They made their way to a corner of the chamber less scattered with debris. A squire had laid out bedrolls, and Aria carefully lowered Reziel onto one. Fatigue crushed him like a physical weight.

Knight Ronan approached, handing Aria a waterskin. "We'll give the Captain a status report soon," he said quietly. "Anora wants to examine the path below. I can escort her if needed. You should rest too, Highwind."

Aria waved off his concern. "I'm fine." But her posture spoke of exhaustion. Her spear's tip dragged against the stone when she set it down.

For a brief stretch, the hall fell into a tense lull. Some knights gathered the bodies of fallen comrades and cultists alike, setting them aside for burial or burning. Others patrolled the perimeter, wary of stragglers. The ambient violet glow had faded to a dull luminescence, leaving normal torchlight to illuminate the grim scene.

Reziel dozed fitfully, half-conscious, haunted by flickers of Overlimit—the crushing surge of negative energy coursing through him. In the fragments of his restless mind, he saw again the swirling script of the Forbidden System, heard whispers urging him to claim greater power. Dangerous, seductive power…

He awoke to find Aria watching him, arms folded, concern etched in her gaze. "You looked troubled," she said. "Bad dreams?"

He gave a half-shrug. "Bad something," he muttered, rubbing his eyes. "Where are we?"

"Still in the hall. Galland won't push on until we secure our wounded. A small team went scouting below." She lowered her voice. "They haven't returned yet."

Almost on cue, a distant clatter of boots echoed from the corridor leading downward. Knight Delwyn emerged, looking pale and tense. Aria rose, crossing the chamber to meet him. Reziel forced himself upright, ignoring the protest of aching muscles.

Delwyn approached Sir Galland and Aria. "We made it roughly a hundred yards down. There's another large chamber with a sealed gate—similar runes as before. Feels… heavier. We heard chanting echoing from deeper inside."

Aria's hand went unconsciously to her spear. "No hostiles in sight?"

Delwyn shook his head. "No immediate guards. But the wards around that gate are unlike anything we've seen. Anora said it'd take significant magic to break them—and given how drained she is, she's not sure she can manage it alone."

Reziel listened intently, heart pounding. The sealed gate must be the entrance to the cult's true sanctum. The rumored place that might hold the Ritual of Severance—and a final confrontation with whoever led the Circle of Twilight.

Galland set his jaw. "Then we regroup here, fortify the wounded, and plan our next move." He turned to Aria. "I'll need you and Reziel in the next assault if we're to handle those wards. But only if Reziel can stand—and only if he promises to avoid suicidal Overlimit stunts."

Reziel bristled a bit but masked it behind a nod. "Understood. I won't do it again—unless absolutely necessary."

Galland's expression softened. "Very well. Rest for a bit longer. We'll move in a couple of hours. If the cult still has a high priest or leader, they might be preparing a last defense behind that gate."

Once Delwyn left to deliver details to others, Aria knelt next to Reziel's bedroll again. She brushed a strand of hair from her forehead, taking a measured breath. "I know you want to push on—and that you feel responsible. But you nearly died upstairs."

He opened his mouth to protest, then sighed. "If we don't stop them, more people will die anyway. And…" He hesitated, swallowing the knot in his throat. "That ritual might be my only shot at severing the System. Or understanding it enough to free myself."

Aria's expression reflected a conflict of sympathy and apprehension. "I get it. Just… promise me you won't rush into Overlimit again without backup." She gently clasped his hand. "You're not alone in this fight."

Warmth flickered through his chest at her words. Not alone. "I promise," he said, voice hushed, though doubt still gnawed at him. If faced with a do-or-die scenario, can I really hold back?

After another hour of fitful rest and hurried preparations, the knights readied themselves for the next descent. Aria drank a revitalizing potion Anora had concocted, her face contorting at the bitter taste. Reziel forced down some nutrient-rich broth, ignoring the knots in his stomach. The hall's temporary camp buzzed with subdued tension.

Sir Galland addressed the knights in a low but firm tone: "This next gate likely guards the core of the cult's stronghold. We either break through and finish them or risk them regrouping and striking back." He surveyed the tired faces. "We move in squads. Defend the injured. Stay vigilant for illusions or traps."

Aria straightened, gripping her spear. Reziel stood beside her, leaning on a staff he'd found for balance. Weakness still tugged at his limbs, but determination burned in his eyes. Other knights around them—Ronan, Kiana, Delwyn, and a half-dozen more—steeled themselves.

This is it, Reziel thought. One last push to the heart of darkness.

Their footsteps echoed down the same path Delwyn had scouted. Torches and lanterns bobbed, illuminating walls etched with more twisted reliefs—scenes of hooded figures bowing before shapeless masses, runes depicting spirals and serpentine loops. The deeper they went, the more oppressive the air became. Even breathing felt like inhaling fine dust laced with arcane residue.

Eventually, they reached a vast antechamber. At its far end loomed a colossal stone gate carved with layers of runic patterns and archaic symbols. A quiet pulse of violet energy throbbed across the surface, suggesting a living barrier. The chanting from beyond the gate drifted like a whisper, haunting but unfocused.

Anora moved forward with measured caution. "This ward is stronger than any above," she murmured, pressing her hand to the stone. Her features pinched in concentration. "Definitely anchored in deeper catacombs—unraveling it might require simultaneous disruptions from multiple points."

Sir Galland's mouth set into a grim line. "Explain."

Anora swept the corridor with her gaze. "Look at these smaller passages branching off on each side." She pointed to two narrow tunnels, each marked with a smaller rune. "It's likely the cult embedded control runes in those side chambers. If we can sabotage or dispel them simultaneously, the main gate's ward will weaken."

Aria studied the tunnels. "Then we split again. Two teams go in, break the runes, and regroup here. You, Galland, and Reziel coordinate the final dispel."

Galland nodded slowly. "Yes, but we must be swift. The cult could launch a counterattack the moment they sense the wards weakening. Half measures will not do."

Reziel's stomach flipped. More splitting up, more risks. But time was short, and the cult's wards were methodical. "If we fail, they'll finish whatever they're doing inside," he murmured. "And this gate will never open—or it'll open on their terms."

The knights exchanged knowing looks, each steeling themselves for the upcoming challenge. Anora pulled a small crystal from her pouch, handing it to Reziel. "It's for support," she explained gently. "If you feel your Overlimit nearing, focus on this. It might help keep your mana flow stable."

He clutched it with trembling fingers, grateful but uncertain. "Thank you."

Aria motioned to Reziel, Ronan, and Kiana. "We'll take the left tunnel. Galland, you take the right with the rest. Once we've dealt with the runes, we meet back here to force the gate."

"Agreed," said Sir Galland. His gaze lingered on Reziel. "Stay alive, all of you."

With that, the knights shared a final nod. Torches were redistributed, blades drawn, minds racing with both fear and conviction. The next few steps would determine whether they ended this twisted cult once and for all—or if the darkness lurking below would consume them.

Reziel gripped his staff, inhaling a shaky breath. Aria offered him a small, resolute smile. Not alone, he repeated in his head, taking comfort in her presence. Then, with careful, purposeful strides, they followed her into the left tunnel—ready to confront the runic wards, the lurking cult, and the unknown sanctum that promised either salvation or doom.