CHAPTER 65: CHAPTER 65: WEAKNESS IS A SIN [2]

Chapter 65 – Weakness is a sin [2]

Darklore —

Inside the territory of the Snakes, Medusa sat in complete silence upon a throne crafted from the peeled skin of serpents—snakes of every color and kind, all flayed and woven together into something both grotesque and regal.

She had green hair and green eyes.

Features eerily similar to a little snake girl we’ve already met.

"What’s the news?" Medusa asked, her voice smooth, calm, as she slowly crossed her legs atop each other, addressing the kneeling snakeman before her.

"Matriarch," the snakeman answered, his head still low, "the Cerveaus are doing exactly as you predicted. They’re trying to kidnap our talking snakemen—likely to extract information about our current condition."

Medusa smiled, soft and venomous.

"Brain Cerveau loves to act smart... but he’s easy to bait," she muttered with pure disdain, shaking her head.

"Give them our criminals. Pack them with timed bombs. Let them think they’ve won something useful."

Her slitted green eyes glowed faintly—dark, eerie, delighted.

"Let them have a taste of the gift we’ve been preparing all this time."

"By your orders, Matriarch," the snakeman bowed.

But he didn’t leave.

Still kneeling. But now he was trembling slightly.

And that didn’t go unnoticed.

Medusa’s eyes narrowed like blades.

"What’s wrong?" she asked coldly, voice sharpening with impatience.

He flinched. Trembled harder. But he knew—hesitating now would cost him more than pain.

"M-Matriarch... Princess Inara... she’s gone to Fokay."

Silence.

Thick, suffocating silence fell across the green chamber—etched in ancient serpent marking all around the wall.

The silence stretched.

To the snakeman, it felt like eternity.

Then finally—

"Say that again," Medusa whispered.

Her voice was cold and poisonous. Just hearing it made the snakeman twitch violently as green, murky blood began leaking from his nose and eyes. His body spasmed, twisting on the floor as pain overtook him.

Medusa took a step forward. The pressure around her grew darker, heavier. Green, toxic mist curled from her skin, slowly shaping into the form of a woman—one with snakes for hair, glowing eyes filled with madness and fury.

"You failed once, letting her into that cursed forest where she nearly died.

And now—you’ve failed again."

Her voice echoed, more rage creeping in with every word.

"You couldn’t even monitor her. Couldn’t stop her from going to Fokay?"

The green fog hissed.

Then she vanished—and reappeared in front of the writhing snakeman.

"One time I let you all off. This time, you’ll all die."

There was no mercy.

But even this wrath...

Even this terror was just a mask—

—because the truth beneath it?

Medusa was falling apart.

Her daughter has gone to Fokay. She was too weak for that place.

And that thought alone pushed her closer to the edge as her pale hand grasped the snakeman’s throat. Her sharp green nails shimmered with death.

"Tell me everything that led to this moment," she whispered.

"And if you dare lie..."

She leaned in, voice dripping with venom.

"I’ll erase your bloodline. Your entire pathetic lineage. Gone."

The snakeman nodded desperately, his face still bleeding, eyes wide with terror.

"Who was responsible?" she asked.

And so—

The interrogation began.

...

Meanwhile, in that strange, lightless realm where all newcomers first arrive in Fokay...

Inara stood quietly with her eyes narrowed and breath steady. Determination and curiosity clashing inside her chest.

{Welcome to Fokay, Inara Serpentine.}

{Your spawn point has been selected.}

{Spawn Point: Graveyard of Monsters.}

The moment the system’s message faded, her vision twisted, her consciousness curled in on itself and she blacked out.

When she awoke, she was no longer floating.

She was standing.

On solid ground.

The sky above her was pitch-black, void of light, not a single star or sliver of moon.

The land beneath her feet was soaked—tainted—in dark, discolored mud, as if centuries of blood had seeped deep into the earth.

The air stank of rot. Of corpses. Of...death.

Around her, there were only tombstones.

Hundreds. No...

Thousands.

Some stretched high into the sky like monuments. Others were small and crude. No two were alike. Each was shaped differently. Colored differently. Felt differently.

And every single one gave off a different... presence.

Inara frowned, her breathing shaky.

"Where... where am I?" she whispered, her voice barely audible.

But suddenly, she slapped her cheeks.

"Weakness is a sin," she muttered.

Again.

"Weakness is a sin."

Each time she repeated it, an image flashed in her mind—a young man with black hair and cold red eyes.

Her heartbeat steadied. Her panic dulled.

She inhaled deeply, then began to walk.

Where to?

She didn’t know.

But one thing was clear.

"I’ll either die here... or leave this place with my weakness burned out of me."

Her green eyes flickered, glowing with eerie determination.

"And once I’m no longer weak..."

She smiled. A soft, almost shy smile.

’I’ll come for you...’

Red-eyed young man.

...

Meanwhile, a young man with red eyes and black hair just arrived at the massive gates of Asterion.

"Why is it always you?" Kaden muttered, voice tired already and eyes half-lidded in exasperation.

He already knew.

This guy wouldn’t shut up.

Sure enough—

"Little Warborn! You’re actually alive? What a surprise!" the guard, Ray, called out, arms raised like he’d just spotted a long-lost brother. His tone was pure sarcasm. Over-the-top. Grinning like a fool.

Kaden’s lips twitched. "Actually I died...more than once even."

"Of course you did. You Warborns talk about death and war like they’re your cousins," Ray replied with a snort, not believing a single word.

Kaden didn’t bother answering anymore. No need to entertain him.

He passed the checkpoint, completed the verification, and entered Asterion.

But as he walked...

A tingle.

A sensation.

His instincts stirred—

He was being followed.

His eyes narrowed. But he didn’t turn. Didn’t break pace.

He simply kept walking. Slower. Calculated.

And then he turned into a narrow alley—dark, quiet, perfect.

The moment he entered—

A black-robed man appeared, glancing around hurriedly, clearly looking for something—

—or someone.

"Looking for me?" Kaden’s voice echoed like ice as Reditha rested against the man’s throat, just a hair from slicing deep.

The man froze.

"Move," Kaden said coldly, "and you’ll die."

—End of Chapter 65—

A/N:

65 Chapters and barely any gifts, golden tickets, power stones...

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