It took the party around fifteen minutes to reach the top of what seemed like a never-ending large spiral staircase. The surrounding darkness, only lightly pushed back by the two flickering balls of fire floating above them, did a number on their nerves, as the shadows seemed to move on the walls and floors.
Halfway up the staircase, the group had fallen nervously silent, their minds playing tricks on them as they walked up toward god knew what.
Astaroth had kept mum about the voice he had heard, still unsure if he could trust it or not.
Ever since they had started climbing the stairs, he had heard it another two times, the messages always the same. The voice seemed to get weaker, even though he knew he was getting closer to the source of them.
He could have rushed ahead, leaving the rest of the group to catch up, but something inside him tugged at his mind, telling him not to go alone. Whether it was instinct, reacting to a looming threat, or paranoia, keeping him from reacting quickly, he couldn't tell.
When they finally scaled the last step, they arrived in a wide open room, very similar to what Nemus had made domicile in, in the Ash Elf mage tower. But the decor was vastly different.
Instead of the barren room, with only a raised dais at the end, this one looked more like a study.
Although vastly larger, and with much larger libraries at the sides, as well as desks here and there, with various tools or open books laid overtop them, the room resembled Aberon's little abode, in the village he had started his adventure in.
But in the center, Astaroth saw something he would remember for a long time.
A slender elf, wearing purple robes, his silver hair flowing uncontrollably under some kind of mystical wind, his skin as white as the moon, with both arms raised in opposite directions.
On one side, to his left, he was channelling an immense amount of mana into a large golden shield over the room's open ceiling, on which six dragons were occasionally scraping their claws and spitting gouts of elemental magic.
On his other side, to the right, he was sending whatever mana he could spare into a large red portal, across which Astaroth could see thousands of demons pushing against the film of mana, blocking their exit.
Beads of sweat were rolling off the sunken cheeks of the Elf, who looked at his wit's end.
Astaroth burst into action, his brain finally connecting the dots.
He rushed to the portal first, trying to glimpse at the levels of the demons on the other side. Thanking the gods, Astaroth scanned a few demons and got the same stats all around.
*Imp Infantry*
Level: 30
Grade: Special
Health: 24,700
Mana: 1,000
**
Everywhere he looked, all the imps had the same stats. This made them much less of a threat, given their small health pool than larger demons.
But still, twenty-four thousand HP was no joke. Given the numbers in which they came, he understood why the mage was trying to hold the portal sealed.
But something was still seeping out of the thin film, covering the entrance and sinking into the tree below the portal. Miasma.
Astaroth now understood how the citizens below were affected, and what to do.
The Elf finally realized he wasn't alone in the room, an Ash Elf suddenly staring inside the portal.
"Get away from there!" he weakly shouted.
Astaroth looked at him.
"We are here to help. Let us help. What can we do for you?"
The man would have laughed at the proposal if he had the strength to do so.
An Ash Elf? Proposing to save Elven lives?
"Don't mock me, Ash Elf. I was there when your leaders rebelled against our people. I know your kind would love to see us fall to the demons."
Astaroth walked up to the man, slapping his face lightly.
*Slap*
"Get your head out of your ass, you pointy-eared prick! I'm not here to watch people die. I'm here to help save them. Let us help you!"
Astaroth waved his hand at the party following him, who were looking at the portal in dread, and then the dome of golden energy keeping six fucking dragons at bay.
The situation was dire.
The Elf looked at them and noticed an Elf and a Fey in the party, two races which he never expected the Ash Elves to ally with. He wanted to believe the Ash Elf before him.
But he knew of the bad blood between their races.
"Fine. You don't want to believe me? That's on you. I'll do my thing, then."
Astaroth felt the mana streams weakening on the mage and knew he had no time to dawdle. Actions needed to be taken, and they needed to be taken now.
He walked back to the portal before pulling out the Ad Astra.
The Elven mage saw the weapon and his eyes widened.
'What is the chosen of their goddess doing here, so far in our territory?'
But Astaroth did something that caught the man off guard.
Transforming the weapon into two small daggers, he stabbed them into the barrier, coating the portal.
"Stop! You will break the barrier and let them run rampant!" he shouted.
But Astaroth was no longer interested in his words.
"Phoenix! Once I'm in there, guard the portal with whatever means you can! Let not a single demon out!" he shouted out, over the buzzing of his daggers severing the mana links of the barrier.
And with a strong yank in opposite directions, Astaroth pulled the daggers apart, ripping the spell in half. The barrier fizzled out, disappearing immediately.
The noise from across it suddenly entered the room. The high-pitched screech of thousands of Imps, ready to unleash chaos onto the material realm, washed into the room.
Some of Astaroth's allies covered their ears, the noise hurting their heads.
But Astaroth was already gone.
The moment the barrier disappeared, he dashed through the open hole between dimensions and got to work. Already, some of the screeching was switching from victorious chitter to painful wailing.
In hell, all hell broke loose.
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