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17.79% Masks Of False Immortality / Chapter 17: A task from Corgi’s son pt.2

Capítulo 17: A task from Corgi’s son pt.2

Cragar's son simply nodded without showing the slightest reaction.

Dalia, after being silent for almost the entire speech, immediately seized the opportunity. "Chris... Can I make a request too?"

"Shoot," the brown-haired man replied, before raising his hands and adding, "Not at me, possibly."

"Can you make me a weapon?"

"Do you see how we negotiate?" Corgi's son said to Shirei, "Now that we're here, what project are you talking about?"

Dalia tapped her hand on her cheek, "Nothing complex, I was thinking of a simple sword."

"Details, material, length, handle. Give me information, little girl."

"Whatever suits you," she smiled, "I know you'll do a great job."

"Mh, thank you for your totally unmotivated trust. It'll take me a few weeks," Chris replied.

"Yes, okay, perfect!"

Chris raised his thumb before pointing to Shirei: "And you bring me my flames, emo type!"

Turning to his half-sister, Cragar's son said, "Then I'll take this opportunity to go. If Lyceum comes looking for me, tell him I'm in the garden," he then walked towards the trap door in the center of the room.

"Go ahead, I'm a born actress," his stepsister reassured him.

Shirei opened the trapdoor before Chris's confused eyes.

"I mean, wait, there's a garden down there?"

The purple-eyed boy nodded and, with a slight hop forward, dropped into the darkness.

"You are strange, more than normal," the demigod concluded to himself, "Anyway, returning to the blade, I think I'll need some measuring to do it."

"Really? I'll give you whatever you want in exchange... even my motorbike."

"You." He pointed to her, "You have a motorbike."

"Yes," Dalia smiled.

"You are what? Fourteen? And then-..." Chris stopped probably due to shock, "Okay, never mind, I'll do it for free."

"I. Can. Not. Believe. It. You are the best, truly. Thank you!"

"Yes, I nothing new. Of course I'm the best" he replied with a pleased smile, "Now I really have to go and look for the representative of Didreus' children and figure out how to convince him to give me the keys to the laboratory."

The boy began to walk towards the exit of the house, in the hope of being able to leave that place as quickly as possible and never have to deal with Cragar's children again in his life: "See you. I'll have your weapon delivered to you as soon as I finish it. I'll leave a letter here tomorrow with everything I need, so be sure to send my every measurement."

"Obvious! Don't worry, thanks!"

Chris went out directly to the forge of the sons of Corgi, Dalia dived onto the bed in the throes of euphoria. She would finally have a weapon, one more step towards her candidacy for the elite group. It was a wish that had been in her head over the last year; she wished she could be part of the team that traveled throughout Italy and escorted new demigods to the Lilies Park. Even more than the desire to help others, Cragar's daughter craved the adventure and thrill of fighting for her life like a true hero.

After about ten minutes spent in the dungeons, Shirei finally reached Kore's garden and, without even looking around, performed a spectral travel straight down. Shadows enveloped the boy until he found himself free-falling into the void. The earth traveled rapidly before his focused eyes. He was aware that if he lost control, he would be pulverized by the rocky matter of the Otherworld. A small smile formed on Cragar's son's face at the thought of returning to the Underworld; being there made him feel strangely at home.

Finally, the earth gave way to a greenish light that swirled, mixing with white and black. Looking down, the demigod saw a colossal bright five-pointed star, or the five rivers of the Underworld. The boy was shrouded in shadows again and emerged standing out of nowhere, like a mole crawling out of its grave.

Cragar's son quickly scanned the area and recalled the first time he had awakened there.

He remembered how his vision was immediately struck by the eternal penumbra, a dense and palpable darkness that seemed to absorb the scarlet-hued light itself. The air was filled with an acrid, putrid smell, a mixture of sulphur, burnt flesh and putrefaction that crept into the nostrils and clung to the roof of the mouth. Shirei had pondered several times the idea of what would happen if any demigod entered that world while alive; probably the sense of asphyxiation would have made him so weak as to make lasting survival impossible. The atmosphere was freezing, but a different cold, not that of the wind or snow, a coldness that passed through the skin and caressed the bones until it penetrated the soul. In the distance, he heard dark and sinister noises, an echo of moans, anguished whispers and desperate cries, a chorus of suffering voices that seemed to come from every direction. Raising his eyes upward, he made out the ceiling illusory and slimy, almost alive, while the ground was uneven, as if it were the imperfect skin of a giant being. A bitter, metallic aftertaste pervaded the air, as if even breathing was a taste of pain. The landscape was desolate and frightening, where perception itself seemed to be subject to distortion. It was no place for faint hearts or indecisive souls; Shirei had learned that the hard way.

The demigod entered the heart of the Underworld, walking through the little light, until he reached the great infernal lake, where the five rivers of the underworld converged. The atmosphere was oppressive, filled with a mysterious and dense energy that he only felt during his travels through the Underworld. The lake was a place of extraordinary scope; its waters flowed restlessly and noisily, pushed by currents that represented the very essence of torment. In the center, Cragar's castle stood imposingly, a palace that seemed to emerge from the very bowels of the underground. With a determined step, Shirei headed towards the mouth of the flame river: the Vaverli. The fiery stream teemed with fire, sparkling eerily. Cragar's son glimpsed some armored goblins waiting for him, a sign that his presence had not gone unnoticed. He guessed that this must represent the welcome home committee his father had chosen to test him.

The violet-eyed demigod stretched out his hand into thin air as the small group began to rush towards him. A black blade with acid green textures materialized from the Underworld into the palm of his hand, so he could wield it; after which, Shirei dashed towards the enemies. 

If it was a fight that his father wanted to observe, then he would gladly oblige.


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