The impact of his statement fractured something profound inside her, inundating her thoughts with tormenting shards of the dungeon's suffocating gloom. She saw the sorcerer's twisted grin, the unforgiving ground biting into her knees, and the ice-cold shadow of her own helplessness. The phantom grip of the curse constricted around her torso again, stealing the air from her lungs. And here, at this moment, that same darkness stared back at her through Ryker’s cold, mocking gaze.
"You abandoned me," she murmured, her voice trembling with a mix of disbelief and anguish. The weight of his betrayal hung heavy in the air, a betrayal that had left her alone to face her darkest fate. The truth tasted like ash on her tongue. Ryker’s betrayal wasn’t a distant memory or a terrible nightmare she could shake off; it was here, breathing down her neck, a curse of its own. How often had she tried to tell herself he was just misguided, that there was still some trace of the man she once knew, once loved? But as he stood over her now, gloating, she felt that last shred of hope wither and die.
A sudden rupture transpired within her, awakening a profound force. The once-dormant warmth of her magic pulsated feebly through her veins, catching her off guard.
The atmosphere around them began to throb, emitting a barely perceptible hum that gradually amplified. This vibration intensified, causing the ground beneath them to quiver as a delicate, shimmering luminescence enveloped Celestia. A gentle warmth expanded within her chest, erupting outward like an uncontainable torrent. The Dome flickered into existence, casting a tender radiance that resembled a wavering candle flame. Although feeble, the Dome manifested itself as a faint, translucent barrier, its edges flickering intermittently. Instinctively, it emerged in response to her desperate plight. Its safeguarding embrace shimmered softly, pulsating in harmony with her shallow breaths.
Ryker stumbled back, his eyes widening in surprise as the Dome enveloped her, its light glowing faintly in the darkness. Celestia’s chest heaved with laboured breaths, her heart racing as she realized what she had done.
"How dare you?" Ryker snarled, his eyes narrowed to slits as he seethed at the sight of the Dome. "Do you truly believe this feeble barrier can hold me back? After all, I've done, you still have the audacity to resist?"
A delicate quiver coursed through Celestia's fingers, a burgeoning heat flickering just beneath the surface of her skin. The magic that had long lain dormant within her now stirred, awakening with a ferocity that matched the crescendo of her feelings. It throbbed with a raw, untamed rhythm, akin to the heartbeat of the earth resonating through her very being. As she drew in a deep, measured breath, her power seemed to envelop her in its embrace, a testament to her enduring spirit despite the toll it had taken on her.
Celestia’s vision blurred with tears, her pulse a thunderous drumbeat in her ears. Every muscle in her body screamed in protest, but she forced herself to meet Ryker’s gaze. The malice in his eyes was a stark reminder of how far he had fallen—or perhaps how far she had been blind to his true nature. She had to endure to find a way out of this nightmare for herself and for those she cared about.
Celestia's pulse quickened, her heart thrumming with a sense of impending doom as she watched Ryker's countenance morph from fury into something far more sinister. This malevolent assertion suggested he still considered her his possession. She was too drained to retreat, her body locked in place as his fingers reached out, brushing her chin with a familiar intimacy that made her stomach churn. A twisted smile spread across his face as he crouched down, stepping into her sanctuary with a disturbingly gentle resolve. Why does the Dome let him through? Why? Celestia knew the answer; this man before her was a huge part of her past life.
“Tia,” he murmured with a sickly sweetness that twisted her insides, the nickname clawing its way into her heart with painful familiarity. A reflex born from years of misplaced trust flared, and for just a heartbeat, her old self responded to it—then recoiled as his lips brushed hers in a possessive kiss. Her mind screamed, but her body remained frozen, caught between past and present. There was a time when she’d accepted this so willingly, trusted him completely. Now, there was only revulsion—and shame at the part of her that hadn’t resisted.
Then, a shadow fell over them, and Ryker’s grip faltered. A deep, commanding voice broke through the tension like a blade slicing through the air.
“Enough!”
The crowd parted, revealing Caleb, his eye burning with a fierce golden light. His sword was already drawn, its edge gleaming ominously under the dim light. His presence was like a storm, a force of nature that demanded attention and respect. The adventurers around them stilled, their breaths caught in their throats as the scene unfolded.
“Let her go, Lord Vexmoor,” Caleb’s voice was low and steady, but there was no mistaking the lethal promise behind his words. His hand tightened around the hilt of his sword, ready to strike at a moment’s notice. “Or I will make you. Remember where you are.”
Ryker’s sneer faltered for the first time, a flicker of doubt crossing his features. But it was gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced by a mocking grin. “And what are you going to do, Nightglen? What can an unsightly woman like her give you? Our LEGEND of the Dungeon, the steamed young Lord Nightglen.!”
Caleb’s eyes narrowed, his calm exterior barely containing the rage simmering beneath. Caleb's voice sliced through the tension, his words steeped in a chilling resolve. "Vexmoor, you would have been wiser to remain hidden in the darkness. Your decision to emerge has sealed your fate—a fate you will come to rue." Caleb's uncharacteristic display of coldness hung heavy in the air, a stark departure from his usual demeanour.
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The two men stared each other down, the tension so thick it seemed to suffocate the very air around them. Celestia, still trembling, felt a surge of hope stir within her. She wasn’t alone. Not anymore.
Ryker merely sneered, the twisted satisfaction in his expression deepening as he turned his attention back to Celestia, ignoring Caleb entirely. Ryker had a twisted satisfaction in his smile as he saw the fury blazing in Caleb’s eyes. He rose slowly, brushing his fingers across Celestia’s shoulder as he moved away as if she were his to touch. And only his.
The Dome had pushed him back after the touch, and now he pounded his fist against the Dome with a mocking laugh, his voice dripping with derision. “Pathetic! Even now, you can’t fully control it.” Celestia’s Dome flickered, reflecting her fractured state, as her already low Mana depleted even faster. But it held, shielding her from his immediate reach, though the strain was evident in her weary posture.
Before Ryker could strike again, a powerful hand yanked him back with brutal force. He stumbled, his fist still clenched in frustration, glaring at the shimmering Dome that defied him. He stepped back, breathing heavily, then looked past the barrier to Celestia, who lay exhausted and helpless within its fragile glow.
“Get. Away. From. Her.”
The sharp command sliced through the haze, and the Safe Zone was dim, the air buzzing with the flickering energy of Celestia’s waning Dome, which faltered slightly as Ryker’s words began to poison the atmosphere again. Ryker chuckled, his gaze cold and unfeeling as he turned his focus back to Caleb. Caleb stepped forward, his stance like a wall between Ryker and Celestia.
"Oh, Nightglen, really? You want to play the hero? Don't make me laugh," he sneered, his voice mocking. Ryker's sneer deepened as he spoke, his eyes glinting with a twisted satisfaction. "Tell me, Nightglen, do you even know her? The real Celestia? The woman she was?" He paused, letting the weight of his words sink in. "You have no idea what she's capable of, what she's done. And you think you can just swoop in and save her?" Ryker let out a cruel laugh, shaking his head in disdain.
Caleb's jaw tightened, but Ryker was undeterred, enjoying the torment he was inflicting. He revelled in the power he held over the situation, a twisted satisfaction gleaming in his eyes as he continued to taunt Caleb. "You think you can save her, but you don't know the first thing about what she's been through. What she's shown me." Ryker's voice dripped with disdain as if he possessed some secret knowledge about Celestia that Caleb could never hope to understand.
"Do you even know what she looks like when she's vulnerable?" Ryker's lips curled into a cruel smirk as he recalled memories that only he held. "Ah, how pathetic she looked when she begged for my help on the tenth Level, lying in her own blood. Thinking I would help her!" He laughed mockingly, relishing the anguish he was inflicting upon Celestia through his words.
Ryker's callous disregard for Celestia's suffering only served to deepen the rage simmering within Caleb. The young lord's eye narrowed, his calm exterior barely concealing the fury that threatened to consume him at the sight of Celestia's tormentor.
Celestia's face drained of colour, her Dome wavering dangerously as the strain of maintaining the protective barrier began to take its toll. Caleb's worried gaze flickered to her, concern etched in his features, but Ryker seized on the moment, leaning in with a twisted smile beside Caleb's ear. His words were laced with derision, intended to further unsettle Celestia and undermine Caleb's resolve to protect her.
"Did she tell you about the night we spent above the cliffs?" he murmured, his voice thick with darkly intimate overtones. "The way she had peeled off her clothes, her hair dancing around her in the cool breeze. She trusted me, looked at me with vulnerable eyes, and wanted me so badly that I was barely able to stop her from surrendering completely. She shared her deepest secrets, baring her soul. She wanted to be seen, Nightglen. She chose me that night, and she will choose me again!"
His words dripped with a possessive hunger, a twisted satisfaction at the memory of her willingness to give herself over to him. The way he spoke of her as if she were an object to be claimed rather than a person with her own desires revealed the disturbing nature of their relationship. There was an intensity to his recollection, a consuming need that bordered on obsession, hinting at the dark power he held over her.
Caleb's grip tightened on his sword, his knuckles whitening with the force of his grip. A searing jealousy burned through his anger as he fought to mask his reaction. The vision of Celestia, pale and drained, flared in his mind, igniting a primal fury that threatened to silence Ryker's taunting smirk.
Caleb clenched his jaw, grinding his teeth together as he wrestled with the surge of emotions coursing through him. The mere sight of Ryker's smug expression only deepened the resentment that had taken root in his heart. He knew Ryker took pleasure in wielding this power over him, in dangling Celestia's suffering like a cruel taunt.
Yet, beneath the anger, Caleb's concern for Celestia's well-being eclipsed all else. The memory of her fragile state, the way her Dome had wavered under the strain, filled him with an overwhelming need to protect her—to shield her from the darkness that threatened to consume her. Ryker's words were like barbs, pricking at the very core of Caleb's resolve and daring him to lose control.
Caleb's mind swirled with confusion as he found himself acting against his usual nature. He was a man of logic and reason, not one to engage in fights on a whim. Yet, the sight of Ryker's mocking smirk and the memories of his time with Celestia—her strength, her vulnerability, and the bond they had forged—pushed him beyond the brink of rational thought. The anger surging within him was unlike anything he had ever experienced, and he couldn't help but feel a strange sense of protectiveness towards her. It was as if an unseen force had taken control, compelling him to stand up for her and confront the man who sought to harm her. The intensity of his emotions left him bewildered, but he couldn't deny the fierce determination that now coursed through his veins.
"You're right, Vexmoor," he hissed, his voice taut with restrained wrath. The intensity of his emotions was palpable, a whirlwind of anger and determination swirling just beneath the surface. "I may not fully know her yet. But I don't need to!" He clenched his fists, the knuckles turning white with the force of his grip. "I know what you deserve." His words were laced with a conviction that bordered on vengeance, a promise of retribution for the sins he believed Vexmoor had committed.
