Novel Full Chapter 1212 Mark of death
1212 Mark of death
As Shar died, her power-up, the blue scaled dragon, dissipated into thin air, leaving a stunned silence on the battlefield. The adventurers, some still caught in the grip of greed and adrenaline, began to process the gravity of what had just happened.
“Holy shit, we just killed Shar!” one adventurer exclaimed, his voice trembling with a mix of shock and realization.
“Damn, she was a follower of Morbus, the god of plagues. Are we screwed now?” another voiced out, fear creeping into his tone.
Yet another, trying to regain focus, said, “What’s done is done. We need that key now. Move!”
Cautiously, many adventurers moved towards Elrion, who stood solemnly near Shar’s body. The golden layer signifying his power-up slowly faded from his body as he bent down and picked up the key.
“Shit, Elrion’s got the key!” one of the adventurers panicked, realizing the implications.
“But it’s Elrion, the hero of Aurumvale, and a legend in the realm of gods. Do we really want to cross him?” another hesitated, voicing the dilemma they all faced.
Finally, Elrion examined the golden key in his palm, his eyes narrowing as he read the same words Shar had seen before her death. “Got you, old bones.” He read and frowned, noticing that the key was hastily made, lacking the elegance of the real key he had seen in the possession of the young woman who had defeated the ape statue. He didn’t know her name, but the image of her was clear in his mind.
“This… this is a fake,” Elrion realized aloud, his voice tinged with both surprise and understanding. “We’ve been duped into killing Shar… not that I regret her demise.”
It dawned on him that the orchestration of Shar’s death was likely the work of the black-robed young man and the woman. He turned his head towards the direction where he had last seen them, only to find they had vanished.
“We’ve been played,” Elrion said with a heavy sigh. Then, he casually tossed the fake key to the approaching dwarves.
On the other hand, Lysandra gracefully landed beside the dwarves before gazing at the key.
“It’s a fake.” she calmly stated,
“What do you mean it’s a fake?” one of the dwarves asked incredulously.
“They’re just trying to fuck with us!” another chimed in angrily.
Ignoring the growing commotion, Lysandra continued, “We’ve all been manipulated into taking out Shar while those two escaped with the real key.”
As the reality of their situation sank in, panic spread among the adventurers. The fact that they had been manipulated into killing Shar for a fake key caused a wave of anger and confusion.
“Damn it, we’ve been tricked!”
“We killed Shar for nothing but a fake? This is bullshit!”
“Those cunning bastards, they played us like fools!”
The adventurers’ frustration was palpable, their voices rising in a cacophony of anger and disbelief. They cursed Michael and Gaya, using a variety of swear words to refer to them.
“That black-robed son of a bitch and his partner got us good!”
“I swear, if I get my hands on those two…”
As the adventurers prayed, a tangible mix of hope and desperation filled the air, each clinging to the belief that their gods would save them from the curse of Morbus. However, not everyone shared this sentiment.
A group of dwarves, who didn’t align with any gods, expressed their skepticism. “When’s the last time a damn god gave a crap about us, eh?” one of them grumbled, his voice tinged with bitterness.
“Yeah, right,” another dwarf chimed in, “like the gods have ever lifted a finger to help us before. Bloody useless, the lot of them!”
His friends nodded in agreement, joining in with their own curses. “Those high and mighty gods are probably laughing at us right now!”
Amidst the growing discontent, others began to join the dwarves’ sentiments. “If we’re going down, we’re taking those two conniving bastards with us,” a hardened adventurer declared.
“Yeah, to hell with praying! Let’s hunt down those two and make them pay!” another added, his words fueling a new resolve among the group.
This shift in mood marked a turn from helpless despair to a vengeful determination. United in their anger, the adventurers began to rally, ready to take matters into their own hands.
Meanwhile, Gaya and Michael were observing the unfolding drama from afar, using a mirror in Michael’s hand which relayed live feed from drones hovering above the scene.
“They are pissed as fuck,” Gaya chuckled, watching the adventurers’ growing agitation.
“Do you see now why I didn’t kill Shar myself?” Michael said, his eyes not leaving the mirror.
“Yeah, the last thing we need is the god of plagues as our enemy,” Gaya agreed, understanding the bigger picture of their strategy.
“Let’s head over there and see what’s going to happen next,” he suggested as he looked towards the golden house in the distance.
After a few moments, Michael and Gaya walked towards the golden house. In Gaya’s hand was the real key, its presence a constant reminder of the chaos they had left behind.
As they passed the nearby buildings, Gaya couldn’t help but find them creepy, their shadows casting eerie shapes in the fading light. She glanced back, wondering about the fate of the adventurers they had outmaneuvered. “What do you think will happen to those adventurers?” she asked, a hint of concern in her voice.
“If their gods don’t save them, they’re as good as dead. Gods like Morbus don’t take kindly to losing worshippers,” Michael replied with a certain grimness,
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