Bab 63: CHAPTER 62: Cursed Grounds.
Horrified Sirin stepped away from the creature.
It seemed happy, in a melancholic way at least. Like a single flower in a rotten wasteland. But that wasn't the problem.
Even if Sirin tried to read its mind, it was of no use. The things thoughts were all a scrambled mass of deliria.
Then it hit him. This thing used to be human. Not only that, but it also remembered being human.
However now it was trapped in this gigantic and bloated form.
Sirin couldn't help but wonder if the red god was responsible for this. Was he really trying to contact something that would punish a creature in such a way?
He started to feel sick and dived back into the water.
Once he swam up to where the water and air met, he found that he was in the middle of the storm that had been approaching for the last couple of hours.
He could barely gasp for air before a wave pushed him under again.
He was a little disoriented by the force of the water yet managed to swim up again. The wind howled in his ears and waves as large as whales were rapidly approaching, preventing him from flying up this far from shore.
Now that he could, he took a deep breath and dove under. Here he changed into his Naga form.
When he encountered this species, they were often found near or in rivers so it would only be natural if he would have a slight advantage against the water like this.
And as he suspected it did help, at the verry least he could hold his beath for much longer meaning that he wouldn't drown any time soon.
Now that he didn't have to come up for air as often, he could safely swim too shore even if the currents of the water sent him astray from time to time.
The moment that he finally felt solid ground under his tail he threw up. The horrid leviathan still lingered in his mind and the constant coming and going of the waves didn't help.
He swiped the wet strands of hair out of his face and crawled further. Not long after he found a reasonably large rock, which he used for shelter against the wind while he tried to catch his breath.
As his breathing and heartbeat returned to normal again so did, he change back to his original form. He spread his wings, took off, and was immediately slammed back into the earth.
With a deep frown he crawled up again. He could probably use either the system, or just straight up magic to find a way around the storm. But he was already tired and using his magic wouldn't help with that.
He sighed and hid his wings again. He was in no rush and trusted that Fyseryra could keep the fortress and its current inhabitants safe.
He decided that for now it would be in his best interest to return to his Naga form so he wouldn't be as bothered by the wind.
Whilst avoiding the threes, and rubbish that was sent flying by the storm, he eventually stumbled upon a tower. It was in ruins, yet it stood proudly upon a hill to steep to be climbed by humans.
He turned back to his original form so he could sink his claws into the stone. Like this he climbed up, driven by curiosity of what the tower might hold.
There were multiple things engraved into the stone above the entrance.
The first thing was what Sirin assumed to be the original name or title of the tower, Unconquerable Might. But someone had tried and failed to scratch it away.
The second thing was probably what the person who tried to remove the original text thought of the tower, Cursed Grounds.
The third thing was what he assumed to be a warning. It was written in a different handwriting, with long elegant letters. Those who do not wish to gaze upon divinity, draw your last breath and step away from this traitorous domain
Sirin ignored this supposed warning and pushed the door open.
The creaking and the inevitable thud from the heavy, steel door landing on the old, stone floor was drowned out by the sound of wind and rain.
The inside of the tower was less dark than the young demon had foreseen.
The stairs leading up to the next floor had been burned down with scorched planks lying on the ground. The small windows were either shattered or cloudy. The weaponry was old and rusted and the bookshelf along with its interior wasn't in any better condition.
But the most noticeable thing of all was the magic formation burned into the ground.
Despite it probably being decades since this tower fell, the burn marks glowed in a soft vermilion as if the fire had just calmed down before he stepped into the room.
The formation itself consisted of two circles with one inside the other. Thin lines spread out like branches as if the magic formation tried to reach out to the outside world. However, the weirdest thing of all was that demonic runes were used all around the formation. Yet they were deformed and lengthened leaving Sirin unable to read what was engraved.
He ventured further into the tower whilst being careful not to disturb the magic formation in any way.
In the end he found nothing. It was as if everyone disappeared from this tower a few decades ago without taking anything with them. There were no signs of battle apart from the magic formation, and there was even some dried food to be fond in some of the chests.
As there was nothing here, Sirin decided to rest a little inside the tower. He found it verry unlikely that something would randomly crawl out of the formation on the lower floor. So, there was no actual harm in staying here for a moment.
When he opened his eyes again the storm had already calmed down a little though the howling wind could probably still knock a dragon out of the sky.
Since he was less tired now, he used his magic as a shield against the wind and flew back to the fortress, ready to leave this short trip behind him.
Status Power Mingguan
-- Peringkat
Power 
-- Power
stone