He looked around the chamber, his initial excitement cooling. He didn't see any door, except for the one he had come through from.
'Where's the exit...'
As he scanned the room, he suddenly paused. He heard a sound, a faint, whimpering noise.
He turned, his enhanced senses pinpointing the source behind a large pillar. 'What the hell?'
It was one of the phantoms, cowering and trying to make itself small. The moment its glowing eyes met his, Iskar could feel a wave of pure dread.
He chuckled darkly, remembering how these same creatures had swarmed him, eager to rip his soul apart. Now, one was hiding from him. The tables had turned completely.
'Good chance to try this.'
He focused, and his hand began to darken. A sphere of absolute blackness, a tiny pocket of void, formed above his palm.
[-10 Energy]
He moved his hand towards it, the Annihilation Orb humming with latent power. Just as he was about to release it, the phantom let out a series of distorted, desperate sounds.
"(Please... no more... don't consume me...)"
He paused, startled. He could understand it. The sounds themselves were weird and warped, but the intent behind them, the plea, the fear, was perfectly clear in his mind.
"You know the exit?" Iskar asked, his voice flat.
The phantom nodded its head so vigorously he thought its ghostly head might tumble from its shoulders. It made more pleading, clicking noises.
"(I can show you... I know the way... just don't consume me!)"
Iskar went silent. "..."
'How can I trust it?' he thought. It was clearly terrified, but that didn't mean it wasn't faking, ready to lead him into an ambush with a stronger monster.
'Seems I can use this as well.'
He looked at his energy.
Energy: 350/410
It was almost full again. He was sure if he hadn't been testing his abilities, it would be. His Limbo body's passive regeneration was a lifesaver.
He looked at the phantom, still trembling behind the pillar. He closed his eyes and focused, forming the terms of a contract in his mind: [You cannot lie. You will lead me towards the exit. You'll serve me from now on.] As an afterthought, he added: [And I promise I won't harm you.]
He added the last clause as a test of the magic itself, and because having a guide who knew the temple could be useful.
A scroll of shadowy parchment materialized in the air, the terms written in glowing purple script. The phantom looked at it.
[-100 Energy]
He felt a large amounts of energy exit his body tp the contract.
"This is a contract to make sure you're not lying. Sign it."
The phantom stared for a long moment, then stretched out a wavering hand. The moment its spectral finger touched the parchment, the contract flared with light, dissolved into smoke, and vanished. Instantly, Iskar felt a new, thin connection form between his spirit and the phantom's.
"So, where's the exit?"
The phantom, now visibly more confident in its survival, floated towards a solid, unadorned section of the wall and stopped.
"That's the exit?" Iskar moved closer and examined the stone. 'Maybe there's a secret button.'
But there was nothing. He saw the phantom imitate a punching motion toward the wall.
'Oh... I have to break it.'
He reared back and threw a powerful punch with all his might. The impact sent a dull shock up his arm, but the wall only shuddered slightly. He tried again, and again. It was working, but painfully slow. He looked back at the heavy hammer.
'Oh yeah, the hammer.'
He moved to grab it. Now, it felt remarkably light in his grasp. He could still feel its substantial weight, but it no longer strained his muscles.
Hefting the weapon, he began swinging it against the wall with all his might. With each thunderous blow, the wall began to crumble
The wall crumbled under the hammer's relentless strikes, revealing a descending staircase. Iskar frowned. 'This isn't leading outside… unless this temple is far larger than I thought.'
But he pushed the thought aside. The phantom couldn't lie to him now, not after the contract.
He followed the spectral guide down the stairs, deeper into the temple's bowels. The phantom led him through winding corridors, choosing paths whenever they split into multiple directions.
Occasionally, they encountered skeletal warriors, larger, more heavily armored than the ones he'd faced before. But with his newfound abilities, they were little more than target practice.
A flick of his wrist sent a [Fireball] roaring into a skeleton's ribcage, blasting it apart, and then stomping its head. Another tried to ambush him from behind, only for [Sand Constructs] to form a jagged spike mid-air, impaling it through the skull.
The phantom watched, its spectral form flickering with unease. Iskar smirked beneath his bandages. 'Good. Let it be afraid.'
By the time they reached a massive stone door, he had leveled up twice.
Level: 10 > 12
Physical Power: 46 > 50 [F]
Magical Power: 46 > 50 [F]
Spirit: 41 > 43
Energy: 410 > 430
Before he was unsure what it would take to reach the next rank or tier, but now, he could feel the difference. His muscles were denser, his bones reinforced, his magical energy coiled tightly within him, ready to burst into something greater.
'One more level,' he realized. 'And I'll break through to the next Tier.'
The phantom hovered near the door, gesturing frantically.
"(Beyond here… the way out… but also… him.)"
Iskar's grip tightened on the hammer. 'him?'
Throughout the journey deeper into the temple, Iskar had noticed the carvings on the walls. He asked the phantom about them, and the spectral being, bound by the contract, recounted the story.
Long ago, two gods ruled this world: the Sun God and the Moon Goddess. They were siblings, but their relationship was fraught with tension.
The Sun God, prideful and authoritarian, sought to dominate all aspects of the world, while the Moon Goddess favored balance and harmony.
This temple had belonged to the Sun God's high priestess, a woman who dared to defy him.
She believed in the Moon Goddess's ideals and sought to challenge the Sun God's tyranny. Enraged, the Sun God sent his army to imprison her here.
The ensuing battle was catastrophic. The priestess and her loyal followers fought valiantly, but they were outnumbered and overwhelmed. In the end, the Sun God's forces trapped them within the temple, sealing them away to perish in darkness.
The "him" the phantom spoke of was the priestess's loyal guard, a man of unwavering devotion who had stayed by her side until the bitter end. When the temple was sealed, he perished along with the others, but his spirit remained, bound to protect her even in death.
The phantom also mentioned something strange: when the spirits within the temple "awakened"—a term Iskar found odd that they woke when he awoke... did he cause them to wake up?—they were incredibly weak, starting at Level 1.
Over time, their strength grew, but the process was slow and erratic. The phantom explained that its memories were fragmented, likely due to the chaos of its awakening and the passage of time.
Iskar mulled over this information. If he had delayed, would the phantoms have grown strong enough to overpower him? The thought was unsettling.
But the guard, the one who protected the priestess, he had likely grown stronger as well. After all, Iskar hadn't moved quickly. The guard had probably been leveling up since the moment Iskar awoke.
He took a deep breath, steeling himself.
And began to push the door open.