Ch. 130: Chains Of Betrayal: The Serpent’s Confession
Anok’s severed arm had been patched up and he was bound with shackles and chains, as though he were some demon anchored to the ground. His bruised face bore the marks of brutal beatings, and his body trembled from the pain of being thrown into this dark, suffocating prison room. His breaths were shallow, every inhale a struggle against the bitter cold air that clung to the walls.
As the gate creaked open, a flicker of recognition passed over his face, though he barely raised his eyes. His voice came out, a low rasp filled with venom and melancholy. “Arman, boy. Come to see this old, dirty thing rot away? Or is that… the blood of a god I smell? Hah, since when did the gods care about the snakes in the mud?”
Arman’s jaw clenched, and his hands balled into fists, his bandaged body barely concealed beneath thin robes. His breath came out slow, measured, but there was no hiding the rage beneath his composure.
Anok’s lips curled into a sneer as he continued without ever lifting his gaze. “Could it be… Lord Hades himself? The only big shot here with an aura like death. But what’s he doing here? Figured out about the mole, have you?”
I stepped forward, my shadow looming over him as his broken form lay slumped against the stone floor. “It seems like you’ve got stories to tell, Anok. Now, talk.”
The room darkened as I let my dominator’s aura seep through, a chilling wave that made the very air crackle with tension. Anok’s body jerked, trembling violently as if every nerve was aflame. His back arched, the raw wounds from his lashings threatening to split open. He wasn’t strong enough to withstand my full force, not anymore.
I crouched down beside him, my voice dropping to a low, dangerous rumble. “I’m listening.”
For the first time, he raised his head, locking his eyes with mine. They were twisted, broken, like shards of a shattered mirror reflecting something dark and malevolent. “Fine,” he whispered, his breath ragged. “Your eyes do reek of death. But I thought you’d come in black.”
The corners of his mouth twisted into a weak, sardonic smile. He snickered under his breath, but it was the laughter of a man with nothing left to lose.
“I’ll dance to your tune, Lord Hades. Why not? What’s left for me but to sing my swan song?”
I straightened, towering over him, the weight of my presence heavy in the room. Arman stayed silent, his anger simmering, but his trust in me unwavering. He had left it all in my hands.
Anok shifted, his voice a hoarse whisper. “During my exile, I received a visitor— one of your own. A higher-up, someone with power. He promised me my freedom if I could make black amber for him. It was an offer too sweet to refuse.”
He let out a bitter laugh, his voice cracking. “Freedom. What a lie.”
The room seemed to grow darker, the weight of his words filling the air with a suffocating tension. My fists tightened as I loomed over him. “And after your escape?”
His smile faded, and his eyes turned cold. “I synthesized the poison. As much as I could. Sold it to the buyer. A handsome price, for sure. He had his test subjects, though he never said it outright. But I knew. I knew what he was doing with it. To think the last batch was used on you.”
My gaze narrowed. “How did you know it was for me?”
For a moment, Anok’s face went blank, then a malicious grin spread across his lips. “He ordered me to make it twice as deadly. For you. It was supposed to kill you, but here you stand. It makes me look very… mediocre.”
Without a word, I drove a sharp kick into his face, sending him sprawling onto the ground. His body convulsed, and he coughed violently, blood dribbling from his nose as it splattered onto the stone.
“Keep talking,” I commanded, my voice a cold growl.
Between coughs, Anok managed a weak laugh. “I was talking.”
I struck again, this time my boot pressing against his chest. “Not the words I want to hear.”
He hissed something in the serpent tongue, cursing under his breath before continuing. “I was working on a more stable version of the poison. Something that could grow. Black amber is volatile when synthesized, but when combined with natural ingredients…”
I stiffened, my mind racing. The apple. So he was the cause.
“I was on my way to deliver the next shipment when my dear nephew here appeared.” He spat a curse, glaring at the memory of his capture.
Arman finally spoke, his voice low but filled with barely restrained anger. “So you never planned to return here for revenge? Isn’t that what men like you do?”
Anok’s gaze flickered towards him, his expression one of disdain. “And stay in this hellhole? Nonsense. That was my plan once, but now… now I have grander schemes.”
I stared down at him, my voice cutting through the tension like a blade. “Can you create an antidote to the black amber?”
The question made him freeze, his twisted smile returning. “Jumping ahead, are we? Already looking for a cure?” He laughed again, dark and hollow. “Black amber is a masterpiece. There’s no undoing perfection.”
“We’ll find it in due time,” I said with quiet confidence. “We have enough of your poison to work on.”
I turned, preparing to leave, but not before one last question. “Who’s the traitor on my end?”
“Doma the Dark Beast,” he said, his voice dripping with malice. “And he’s not very fond of you either.”
A chill ran down my spine at the name. Doma. The Director of Soul Collection and Analytics in the underworld. The first of my subjects I had disciplined.
The rat.
I stood to my full height, my gaze cold and calculating. “I’ll take custody of the black amber. Until I find a cure.”
Arman looked at me, his expression uncertain. “You haven’t gotten much from him yet.”
I shook my head, my mind already racing with plans. “I’ve gotten plenty.”
Without another word, we left Anok to wallow in his own misery, bound to his self-inflicted exile. But as I walked out of that dark, suffocating prison, I couldn’t shake the feeling that the game was only just beginning. And i was a key player in it.
If I revive a magic castle I will mass release 10 chapters
