Chapitre 335: Chapter 336: Nissa Nissa
"Blood Seal: Sanctuary!"
As soon as Samwell uttered the incantation, the light around him dimmed dramatically.
The air was filled with faint echoes. Though he had spoken in Valyrian, the sound in his ears morphed into another language—a tongue he had never heard before.
Samwell felt an inexplicable energy envelop his entire body, like an invisible suit of armor.
Curious, he unsheathed his greatsword, Dawn, to test the protection of this ethereal armor. Yet, the blade passed unimpeded, brushing against his skin without resistance.
Confused, he drew a simple dagger from his belt and pricked his palm.
The sharp sting told him that the blade had penetrated his flesh.
Samwell frowned.
It seemed the energy barrier summoned by the spell offered no protection against physical harm.
Could it be a defense against mental or spiritual attacks instead?
Unable to find an answer, Samwell decided to shelve the question for now.
He looked down at the pile of dust where the ancient book had disintegrated and sighed.
The tome likely contained long-lost Valyrian sorcery, but his recklessness in removing the protective gem had destroyed it.
If not for his impatience, he might have learned more about this spell—or even unlocked further secrets of Valyrian magic.
Samwell scoured the prayer hall for additional clues. Finding nothing of value, he stepped out of the building.
Something about the world outside felt... wrong.
The sky seemed even darker than before, as if a tangible weight pressed down from above.
And the surrounding ruins—previously weathered but distinguishable—had changed.
The black stone of the steps appeared unnaturally dark, absorbing all light and leaving Samwell with a sense of nausea and vertigo.
Frowning, he averted his gaze and moved forward.
"Cleopatra?" he called out, searching for his white dragon.
When no response came, he called again, louder this time.
Still, silence.
A deep unease settled in Samwell's chest. He pressed on, his pace quickening as the thickening fog reduced visibility to mere feet.
Fortunately, dim lanterns lined the streets every ten paces, casting weak but steady light.
Samwell's brows knitted further. There hadn't been any lanterns before.
How could there be lanterns here, in the ruins of the ancient Ghiscari capital, destroyed thousands of years ago?
The eerie glow only deepened the sense of unease.
After walking for some time, Samwell abruptly stopped.
He glanced down at his hands and realized the protective energy from the spell had faded.
The spell must have a time limit—around half an hour, he estimated.
Ahead, the black mist obscured the path, leaving only faint flickers of lantern light stretching into the distance.
Samwell resumed walking cautiously.
Tap... tap...
Even though he tried to soften his steps, the sound of his boots echoed unnervingly in the oppressive silence.
Then, a faint hissing sound drifted toward him from up ahead, like a sinister wind.
Samwell tensed.
At first, he thought it might be Cleopatra and was about to call out.
But something primal stopped him.
His instincts screamed of danger.
He quickly ducked into the nearest ruined building and crouched behind a crumbling wall.
The hissing grew louder, more distinct, and closer.
Peering through a gap in the rubble, Samwell saw a massive shadow emerge from the fog.
It slithered slowly, its towering form at least a hundred feet long.
Though the thick mist obscured its full appearance, the creature's sheer size made it clear this was no dragon.
It looked like an enormous serpent, its scales scraping against the stones with a bone-chilling hiss.
Samwell held his breath, his muscles taut.
The pressure emanating from the creature was overwhelming, far surpassing anything he had felt from the harpy goddess.
Could this be one of the Ghiscari gods, awakened after centuries of slumber?
Or was it another illusion?
The oppressive presence felt far too real to be a mere hallucination.
Either way, Samwell realized staying in these ruins was a gamble he couldn't afford to lose.
The serpent-like creature eventually moved on, its shadow disappearing into the fog.
Just as Samwell began to relax, a voice startled him.
"Don't go any further! That's the domain of the Basilisk!"
Samwell turned sharply toward the source of the voice, spotting a man hiding in the ruins not far away.
The Basilisk? Samwell thought. Was that the name of the monstrous serpent?
The man's warning echoed in his mind as he recalled stories of the Basilisk Isles near Sothoryos, a place crawling with vicious reptiles.
But none of them were as enormous as what he had just seen.
"What are you waiting for? Come on!" the man whispered urgently, beckoning.
Samwell hesitated, then decided to follow. This stranger might hold answers.
"Where are we going?" he asked cautiously.
"To the Sanctuary, of course," the man replied as if the question were absurd. "Night is falling. If you stay out here, you'll end up as monster food."
Nightfall? Samwell glanced at the darkened sky above. It already looked like night to him.
But was it possible this world grew even darker after "sunset"?
Reluctantly, he followed, maintaining a safe distance.
The man led him through the ruins, their path winding until they reached a towering wall of black stone—so dark it seemed to drink in light.
The man knocked on a specific section of the wall, and a low voice from inside responded.
Moments later, a hidden door swung open.
"Hurry up, Azor! What's taking you so long today?"
Samwell froze.
Azor?
The name struck him like a hammer. The stranger had just called him Azor.
Suppressing his shock, Samwell stepped inside.
Four or five guards stood just beyond the door, nodding at him as though they recognized him.
Feigning calm, Samwell followed their lead, walking further into the enclosed area.
The fog remained thick, limiting his visibility to a few feet, but faint lanterns dotted the streets, illuminating a path.
The people he passed moved with urgency, their expressions tense and weary. Living in this perpetual darkness clearly took a toll.
"Well, I'm going home," the man who had led him here said with a quick farewell before disappearing into the haze.
Samwell was left alone, unsure where to go next.
"Azor!" a cheerful voice called out.
Samwell turned to see a woman approaching—a vision of silver hair and violet eyes, her features strikingly familiar.
Not the same woman, he realized. But the resemblance is uncanny.
The woman ran to him and stopped just short, studying his face with a teasing smile.
"What's the matter? Don't recognize your own wife?"
Samwell's thoughts raced, but he managed a smile.
"How could I ever forget you, my love?" he said smoothly.
He stepped closer, brushing a strand of her silver hair aside, his hand grazing her neck.
His touch was gentle, but he was prepared to snap her neck at the slightest hint of danger.
"Then tell me," the woman said, her smile deepening. "Who am I?"
Samwell's eyes narrowed slightly as he replied:
"You are… Nissa Nissa."
(End of Chapter)
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone