Chapter 1191 Morbus, The God of Plagues
Chapter 1191 Morbus, The God of Plagues
The sudden appearance of the dragon, now mere feet away from them, left the onlookers in a state of stunned silence, their shock and confusion palpable in the air.
“Is that… a real dragon?” one person whispered, disbelief coloring their voice.
“Never thought I’d see one this close… it’s terrifying,” another muttered, their eyes wide as they took a cautious step back.
As the dragon moved closer to Gaya, gentle plumes of smoke escaped its nostrils, adding to the dramatic scene. Despite the fear and apprehension in the crowd, Gaya remained calm. “It’s okay,” she said softly, slowly raising her hand towards the dragon in a gesture of peace.
At that moment, guards clad in golden armor, the guards of Luxor, rushed to the scene. Their movements were swift and coordinated, a clear indication of their readiness to intervene if necessary.
Michael, noticing the soldiers becoming increasingly agitated and inching forward, called out in a steady, calming voice, “Don’t make any sudden moves now.” His words were directed at the soldiers, intended to prevent any escalation of the situation.
Still reeling from the shock of the dragon’s sudden descent, the onlookers began to murmur among themselves, curiosity piqued by the interaction unfolding before them.
“Who is that woman? Why is the dragon so close to her?” one of them whispered, trying to make sense of the scene.
Undeterred by the dragon’s intimidating size and the apprehensive crowd around her, Gaya reached out and gently touched the dragon’s face. She could feel the warmth of its scales under her fingers, the texture both smooth and powerful.
For a brief moment, the dragon’s vertically slit pupils dilated, becoming round, as if expressing surprise or recognition. It then let out a low growl, a sound that seemed like an attempt at communication with Gaya.
Gaya focused intently, trying to understand, but she couldn’t hear any words from the dragon, unlike her experience with the griffin. It was as if their connection was different, less direct, but still meaningful in its own way.
However, after a few moments, the dragon’s pupils shifted back to vertical slits, and it suddenly pushed Gaya away with a headbutt, almost throwing her off balance. Michael immediately sprang into action, faster than the guards, and struck the dragon’s face, retracting his black shield. Meanwhile, the dragon opened its mouth, its throat beginning to glow, signaling an impending dragon’s breath.
The onlookers and citizens of the city panicked and began to run away, expecting a battle. But when the dragon recovered from Michael’s blow, a calm yet dominant voice echoed through the streets.
“Stand down, Emry,” said the voice.
Upon hearing the voice, the dragon immediately closed its mouth and bowed its head. Michael turned to see Lysandra walking toward them.
“I apologize for my dragon’s behavior, despite how curious it’s actions may seem,” Lysandra said to Michael and Gaya.
Soon, the city guard, a tall elf with smooth skin, removed his helmet and greeted Lysandra. Despite their racial differences, the elf remained respectful toward Lysandra, unlike the elves in the streets.
“You don’t have to apologize for this creature’s behavior, Young Miss. No harm’s done,” the elf said to Lysandra, as if the dragon had tried to attack her and not Gaya. Michael remained calm and did not intervene. The dragon’s actions had already drawn unwanted attention to them, and the last thing Michael and Gaya needed was more attention.
“Thank you for being so lenient, Captain. I will make sure this doesn’t happen again. You have my word,” Lysandra calmly said.
Then, the elf turned his gaze to Gaya and Michael.
“Next time, don’t try to talk to or attack a dragon,” he said, his smile fading, replaced by a cold look.
Before Michael could respond, the elf walked away.
“Stupid humans,” the elf’s parting words reached Gaya’s ears, almost provoking her to leap at him and retaliate. However, she restrained herself, knowing that this was not the time to make enemies.
Once the elf led the guards away, Lysandra turned her attention to the dragon, Emry, which lowered its head, allowing her to climb atop it. Then, she directed her gaze towards Michael and Gaya.
“There must be something about you two that made Emry act in such a way… I have a feeling we might meet again,” Lysandra remarked before patting the dragon.
As Michael and Gaya stood there, the dragon flapped its wings and took off into the sky, carrying Lysandra with it.
“Great. Now we have her attention. Just what we needed,” Michael said sarcastically, followed by a sigh.
Meanwhile, Gaya seemed lost in her thoughts.
“Hey,” Michael said, shaking her shoulder gently.
His action snapped Gaya back to reality.
“Let’s walk and talk,” Michael suggested, taking her hand and leading her away from the temple grounds.
After they had put a safe distance between themselves and the temple, Michael turned to look at her.
“What were you thinking about?” he asked, concern evident in his voice.
Gaya, deep in thought, finally spoke up. “I couldn’t hear the dragon’s thoughts, not like I did with the griffin,” she confessed, her voice tinged with confusion.
“But there was something… a feeling,” Gaya continued, her expression thoughtful. She furrowed her brow, trying to put her emotions into words.
“It felt like the dragon was trying to communicate something to me,” she said, her gaze distant. “And its gaze… it felt disappointed in me, almost angry.” The realization seemed to weigh heavily on her. With a sigh, Gaya let out an exhausted chuckle. “Seems like the Goddess of Monsters has a long way to go before regaining the trust and faith of her worshippers,” she admitted, acknowledging the complexities of her newfound role as the Goddess of Monsters.
Michael pondered for a moment before offering his perspective. “The reason you couldn’t hear the dragon might be because you haven’t fully entered your godhood,” he suggested thoughtfully.
“There’s a chance you might only be able to communicate with beasts like dragons once you climb higher in the ranks of godhood,” Michael continued, trying to piece together the puzzle of Gaya’s abilities and limitations.
Hearing him, Gaya frowned at the realization. “So, I have to fly blind until then?” she asked, the frustration evident in her voice.
Michael responded with a comforting pat on her back. “We’ll figure this out together like we always do,” he reassured her, his tone full of conviction and support. **************************
In a dimly lit room, away from the prying eyes of Aurumvale, Shar stood alone, her figure shrouded in darkness. The room was austere and somber, with stone walls that seemed to absorb the light from the few flickering torches mounted on them. An air of solemnity and secrecy pervaded the space, a fitting setting for the dark rituals Shar was known to perform.
With a small, sharp blade, Shar sliced the palm of her hand, letting drops of her blood fall into an ancient bowl placed before her. The room’s air was heavy with the scent of burning incense, adding to the ritual’s mystique.
As her blood touched the surface of the liquid in the bowl, it began to ripple, and the flames of the torches slowly changed, casting a sickly green light over the room. The atmosphere grew heavier, charged with an unseen power.
Suddenly, an ethereal form manifested before her. It was Morbus, the God of Plagues, clothed in dark robes that covered his head and obscured his features, leaving only a sense of ominous power visible.
Shar immediately knelt before the spectral manifestation of Morbus, her head bowed in reverence and submission. Her devotion to the god was unwavering, her actions reflecting the depth of her faith.
“Is everything ready?” Morbus’s voice echoed through the room, a sound that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once.
Shar, her expression grave, informed Morbus of a potential complication. “Our plan might be hindered by Elrion,” she said, concern evident in her voice.
“It is to be expected from a worshipper and a lapdog of Valorius,” Morbus responded with a dark chuckle.
“But now, once you’re inside the dungeon, you can deal with Elrion. The Pantheon and Valorius will be too busy chasing the God of Darkness to notice our plan.”
Shar’s eyes widened in shock upon hearing the name ‘God of Darkness’. “God of Darkness?” she repeated, seeking clarification.
“Apparently, Andohr, the caged god of space and time, believes the God of Darkness killed Rainar. He’s given the Pantheon his piece of mind, so now their focus is on finding this God of Darkness.” Morbus continued, his voice laced with a cunning edge.
“The Pantheon is fighting two battles at the same time, spread thin. On one hand, they’re battling Dagon, and now they’re after the elusive God of Darkness. This is the perfect time for our plan,” Morbus elaborated, his ethereal form almost shimmering with malice.
“Do you think it’s the God of Darkness who killed Rainar?” Shar asked, her voice tinged with curiosity.
Morbus let out a dark, knowing chuckle. “I believe the God of Darkness now is far more dangerous than he was five thousand years ago,” he stated confidently, suggesting his encounter with the previous Dark Lord.
Then, Morbus’s presence in the room seemed to grow more commanding as he laid out the next step of their plan. “Reach the center of the dungeon and retrieve the artifact that Silvaris has stolen and hidden within the remains of Vedora,” he instructed Shar, his voice echoing with authority.
“I will not fail you, my god,” Shar said with cold determination. The task was clear, and she understood the importance of the artifact to their larger scheme. As the meeting neared its end, Morbus’s form began to fade, but not before he issued a final, chilling warning. “Do not fail me, Shar,” he said coldly, his words hanging in the air even as his ethereal presence dissolved into nothingness.