Chapitre 46: The Breakout
Mordred
The endless screaming and destruction finally died away into silence. I laid on my cot, sharing up towards the dank, dark, ceiling. For a moment, I felt hollow without Dracoth whispering murder in my ears. I had gotten used to him, he was a part of everyday life. But now, I felt… unsettled. Off-kilter.
Still, the peace was a welcome surprise and I settled in for what I thought would be the most peaceful night in a long time. As I drifted off, a thought crossed my mind. Maybe I beat him? Maybe he gave up? Hope blossomed in my chest and I could no longer sleep, thoughts racing in my mind of how to escape.
I would make it out. I had to warn them. I wanted to see my friends again. I just wanted to be Mordred again, the magical extraordinaire with a penchant for art.
I sat up and crept towards the door. Locked. "I will find a chance to break free," I swore silently.
I turned around and returned to my cot. Laying down, I began to drift off. As I thought, the night was peaceful.
I woke up the next morning, well rested. I called upon the actor within me, giving a few throat-clearing coughs. I could do this. I knew how Dracoth behaved. Bringing my voice as low and gravelly as possible, I began to shout in the loudest and most authoritative tone I could manage.
"YOU WORTHLESS PEONS, GET ME OUT OF HERE!"
I banged on the doors, drawing on the unnatural strength that Dracoth gifted me. Three solid dents were made in the door, joining the countless other dents Dracoth has made before. I was in my fourth swing when the door swung open. The cultist who opened it immediately bowed before me. I let my swing continue, slugging the cultist on the top of the head. He fell to the floor, unconscious.
"Took you long enough."
I could see the two other cultists tremble with fear. Seeing me gaze at them, they bowed as well, unable to look me in the eye. I stared at them, trying to be as detached as possible, before striding confidently down the route towards the exit. I cleared the first hurdle.
Halfway through, a cultist steps in front of me, blocking my way. I growled at her, causing her to leap back in fright.
In a voice higher than normal, she squeaked out, "Lord Astaroth wants to see you, Lord Dracoth."
"Tell him I am busy." I panicked. I doubted that I could trick another demon.
"He insists." I could see her shrink away. Composing myself, I decided to follow her. Slowly, but surely, I was led away from the exit and into the bowels of the compound.
Entering the main room, Astaroth sat on a massive chair, covered by pure white bone armour.
"Dracoth, I thought you decided to let him have some hope. Why the sudden change in mind?"
"I got bored." I could feel cold sweat running down my back.
"But isn't crushing hope the enjoyable thing for you?" Astaroth got up, walking slowly towards me, each step creating a resounding boom. He got close, staring directly into my eyes.
"What do you want?" I couldn't back away. I had to stand my ground, or else it be a dead give away.
"What is wrong? Feeling a little nervous?" Shit.
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone