The darkness beyond the threshold swallowed Lothras's torchlight like a hungry void.

  We stepped through together, weapons ready, senses straining for any hint of movement. The air here was much colder and denser than before; this chamber has been sealed for more than a century.

  Then the door slammed shut behind us.

  I spun, bow raised, but there was nothing to shoot. The massive stone slab had simply closed on its own, ancient mechanisms grinding it back into place, the door almost mocking us, hinting at there being no escape.

  "Well," Kara said, her voice tight, "that's not ominous at all."

  Lothras raised his torch higher, and the chamber slowly revealed itself.

  It was vast. Far larger than any room we'd encountered so far, easily a hundred meters across.

  These chambers keep getting bigger, I thought. There’s no way we’re still under Twinfire.

  The ceiling vaulted upward into shadows that even the torchlight couldn't penetrate.

  But it was what waited at the far end that drew our attention.

  A throne.

  It sat upon a raised platform, carved from the same dark stone as the rest of the tomb. The seat was ornate, decorated with anchors and sabers, the crest of House Trynd repeated in intricate detail along its back and arms.

  The throne was empty.

  Flanking it, however, were two figures that resembled the stone guardians we had just defeated moments ago, except these were not statues.

  Skeletal giants, each standing nearly three meters tall. Their bones were thick, reinforced with bands of corroded iron, and they wore the remnants of plate armor that must have been magnificent in life.

  One carried a massive war hammer, its head larger than my torso. The other wielded an ornate, sleek greatsword.

  They stood motionless. Watching. Waiting.

  "They're not attacking," Athos observed quietly.

  "Yet," Lothras added.

  I scanned the rest of the chamber, looking for threats, exits, anything useful. My eyes stopped on something in the center of the room.

  A pedestal.

  It was simple compared to everything else: a waist-high column of polished stone, unadorned except for the object resting on its surface; a key was lying on it, as if it was just put there in haste.

  Not a key key, exactly. It was a fragment of something larger, half the piece of a puzzle we had to solve.

  It was made of metal that seemed to shift between silver and gold at different angles, shaped like the head of a trident with two of its three prongs broken off. Ancient runes were etched along its surface, pulsing with faint blue light.

  "That's it," Kara breathed. "The first piece."

  "Don't touch it yet," I said quickly. "We need to understand what we're dealing with first."

  We spread out, examining the chamber methodically. The walls were covered with carvings depicting naval battles, sieges, and what appeared to be coronation ceremonies. House Trynd's history, preserved in stone.

  Athos noticed something on the walls. "Orion, look at this."

  I moved to his position and followed his gaze. Four large pipes were set into the walls at cardinal points around the chamber, each about a meter in diameter. They disappeared into darkness, leading somewhere deeper into the structure.

  "Drainage?" Kara suggested, though she was not convinced.

  "Or the opposite." Athos ran his hand along the pipe's rim. "These could fill the chamber with water. Just like before."

  "Great," I said grimly. "Almost drowning once was not enough fun for a day."

  "And now there's no exit," Lothras pointed out from across the room. "The door is sealed behind us, and there’s no puzzle to open it."

  "So if those pipes activate, we either complete the encounter or we drown." Kara's expression was troubled. "Lovely."

  We moved toward the throne, giving the skeletal giants a look.

  They remained motionless, their empty eye sockets kept staring straight ahead, but I could feel their attention.

  They knew we were here.

  The throne itself was empty, as we'd noted before. There were no hidden markers, no obvious triggers on it. Just an ornate seat designed for someone who would never sit in it again.

  Lothras studied it for a long moment, then, to our collective surprise, turned and sat down.

  "What are you doing?" Kara hissed.

  "Testing a theory," he replied, settling into the seat with an air of casual arrogance. "In stories like these, the throne is always significant. Perhaps it requires someone to claim it."

  Nothing happened.

  The giants didn't move. No traps triggered. The pipes remained silent.

  Lothras shrugged and stood. "Worth a try."

  "The key," Athos said, turning back to the pedestal. "It's the only thing we haven't interacted with yet."

  We gathered around the middle, staring at the Trident fragment. Up close, the runes were even more intricate, their light pulsing in a slow rhythm that reminded me of a heartbeat.

  "This is definitely going to trigger something," I said.

  "Obviously," Lothras agreed. "But we need the key to complete the quest. Standing here won't change that."

  He was right.

  "Everyone ready?" I asked.

  Weapons were drawn. Positions were taken. Kara's fingers hovered over her lute strings.

  I reached out and lifted the key from the pedestal.

  For a heartbeat, nothing happened.

  Then the temperature plummeted.

  Frost crept across the stone floor, spreading outward from the throne in patterns.

  This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  The torches along the walls flickered, their flames turning from white to an otherworldly green.

  And on the empty throne, something began to form.

  It started as mist: a swirling vortex of emerald energy that whirled into a shape. First, the outline of a body, then features, then details. Robes of tattered silkand skeletal hands adorned with rings of gold and silver. A crown of corroded metal was sitting atop a skull that still had some flesh on it.

  Finally, the creature formed its eyes, burning with malice and hatred.

  The figure solidified, sitting upon the throne as if it had been there all along.

  Then it spoke.

  "WHO DARES DISTURB THE SANCTUM OF HOUSE TRYND?"

  A name appeared above its head.

  The lich rose from the throne, hovering several inches above the platform. Its gaze swept across us, and I felt a chill that had nothing to do with temperature. This one’s powerful.

  "Adventurers," it hissed, clearly knowing the meaning of the word. "I have waited a century for this moment. A century of darkness. A century of planning. A century of promises."

  "Lord Aldmar Trynd," Kara said, her voice steady despite the unease I could see in her eyes. "Head of House Trynd. You died in the Coastal Wars."

  "Died?" The lich's laugh was like breaking glass. "No, child. Death was merely... a transition. House Vizgrad thought they had defeated me. Thought they had buried my legacy along with my body. But I found a way back."

  Its skeletal hand gestured to the chamber around us.

  "This tomb is just my prison, not my resting place, child. It blurs my powers to the point I’m barely more than a shadow of my old self. But it was still enough to corrupt the dead who were buried here. Turned my own retinue into weapons for my vengeance."

  The lich's eyes blazed brighter.

  “If I break free of this tomb, my power will grow tenfold, and I will erase House Vizgrad from the earth!” He hissed. “All I needed were some adventurers to break the seal!”

  He looked at us with contempt.

  "And now you come to me, bearing the insignia of my enemies, seeking the key to the Trident that should have been mine!"

  It raised both hands, and necrotic energy surged through the chamber.

  The skeletal giants stirred.

  Green fire erupted in their eye sockets as they stepped down from the platform, their massive weapons rising. Above their heads, names appeared.

  "Scatter!" I shouted.

  We broke formation as the giants charged.

  The warhammer came down where Athos had been standing, cratering the stone floor.

  The greatsword swept in a horizontal arc that would have bisected all four of us if we'd stayed together.

  "I'll take the lich!" Lothras roared, charging toward the dais. "Handle the guardians!"

  "Athos, with me!" I called, drawing the attention of both giants with a Fan of Arrows. The projectiles burrowed into their armor.

  -70!

  -70!

  …

  Athos appeared at my side, blade ready. "Same as before. We burn them down fast."

  "Kara, keep Lothras alive!"

  "On it!" Her lute hummed as Healing Notes wrapped around the paladin.

  The warhammer giant swung again, and I Quick Stepped clear, retaliating with a Burning Arrow to its knee joint. Flames licked at the exposed bone, and the skeleton stumbled.

  -311!

  -56!

  -56!

  …

  “Weakness to fire!” I called. “And that lich is definitely weak to holy damage!”

  “Radiant Edge!” Lothras shouted as he engaged the Lord. The celestial blade cut through, piercing the pale green body of the boss.

  -1,142!

  The lich shrieked.

  Athos engaged the greatsword skeleton, his blade meeting the massive weapon with a clash that echoed through the chamber.

  -77!

  He was outmatched in raw power, but Rising Tide was already building, his movements growing faster and more fluid with each exchange.

  From across the room, I heard Lothras attack Lord Aldmar once again.

  "Smite!"

  -286!

  His blade connected with the lich's torso, holy fire erupting on impact. Its form rippled like water disturbed by a stone, then reformed.

  "Pathetic," Lord Aldmar sneered. "Your holy tricks mean nothing to me, paladin. I have transcended such limitations."

  The lich raised one hand, and a bolt of concentrated necrotic energy streaked toward Lothras.

  He raised his shield, but the magical attack punched through his defenses like they weren't there.

  -234!

  Lothras staggered, his health dropping by nearly a third from a single hit.

  "Holy—" Kara's Healing Notes intensified, pulling him back from the brink. "His magic resistance isn't enough! The lich's attacks are pure magical damage!"

  I filed that information away while dodging another sweep from the war hammer. Lothras was our best tank, but against a magic-focused boss, his heavy armor was not great.

  "Focus the guardians!" I shouted. "We need to help him fast!"

  Athos and I fell into the rhythm we'd established against Ser Doriath before.

  He kept the greatsword guardian occupied while I systematically dismantled the war hammer wielder, targeting joints and gaps in its armor.

  Piercing Shot to the elbow. Burning Arrow to the hip. Quick Step to dodge its retaliatory swing. Silk Shot to create distance when it pressed too close.

  The guardian's health dropped steadily.

  Across the chamber, Lothras was struggling.

  Lord Aldmar had abandoned straightforward attacks in favor of something far more insidious. Spectral chains erupted from the floor, wrapping around the paladin's legs and rooting him in place.

  “Soul Shackles!”

  "Lothras, break free!" Kara called, her healing barely keeping pace with the damage.

  "You cannot escape," the lich taunted. "You are in my domain now. Every stone, every shadow, answers to me."

  It raised both hands, and the green fire in its eye sockets blazed brighter.

  "DROWN IN DESPAIR!"

  A wave of necrotic energy exploded outward from the lich, washing over the entire chamber. I felt it hit me like a physical force, cold and crushing, and a debuff icon appeared on top of my health bar.

  Despair. All healing received reduced by 50% for 180 seconds.

  "The healing debuff!" Kara's voice was strained. "I can't keep him up like this!"

  Lothras broke free of the chains just in time to raise his shield against another direct attack. The impact drove him back several meters, his boots scraping furrows in the stone.

  -178!

  "I can hold!" he shouted, but I could hear the strain in his voice. "Kill those guardians!"

  He then chugged down a health potion.

  The warhammer giant was at fifty percent now. I dropped a Web Trap in its path and fired a point-blank Piercing Shot as it stumbled into the silk. The arrow punched through its ribcage, and chunks of bone exploded out the other side.

  Forty percent.

  "Athos, switch!" I called.

  We swapped targets seamlessly. He engaged the weakened warhammer guardian while I turned my attention to the greatsword wielder.

  The greatsword came down in a vertical strike that would have split me in half. I sidestepped, drew, and fired in one motion.

  The arrow caught the skeleton in the eye socket, snapping its head back.

  Lord Aldmar wasn't idle. The lich had begun casting something new, its hands weaving intricate patterns in the air.

  Green runes materialized around its form, spinning faster and faster.

  "The sea claims all in the end," he laughed. "Let me show you what awaits those who oppose House Trynd."

  Something began to pour from the pipes.