Chapter 1027 Doorman of Hell

Chapter 1027 Doorman of Hell

There was no mistaking it; the once majestic Runera had been transformed into a nightmarish wasteland. Its grandeur, with the towering tree at its center and harmonious floating buildings, had been marred by infernal fires and the occasional haunting screams of terrified humans. It had become a desolate hellscape for those unfortunate enough to remain within its forsaken boundaries.

Arthur struggled to maintain his composure, but the sight of his beloved city, Rega, consumed by flames shattered his efforts. This place had held the promise of reuniting with Diana and uncovering the mysteries of their past, but now it lay in ruins.

"This must be some kind of illusion," Joey suggested optimistically, though doubt lingered in his voice.

Arthur couldn't help but feel an unease gnawing at him, wondering what might have transpired in Runera while he had spent half a day within the Red Tower. It occurred to him that the Red Tower, though it had descended into the real world, might not exist as he believed.

"It could be a mirrored version of my city," Arthur pondered with a deep frown. "But why would the dark mage create such a place? What's the purpose?"

"It's likely nothing more than a mind game," Koby offered, offering a reassuring pat on Arthur's back. "This isn't your city, Sir Alexie. We'll step inside, and you'll see."

Resolute, Arthur nodded, and the group pressed on toward the central tower. The pounding in their heads was nearly unbearable, but they encountered no monsters until they approached the walls of Runera. There, perched atop the walls, they found a cloaked figure.

"Who goes there?" the figure muttered, concealing their face beneath the hood of their cloak. Their voice trembled with age, as if they were a leaf about to be carried away by the wind.

"Are you the dark mage?" Koby inquired, a frown creasing his brow. The man simply responded with a hollow laugh before shaking his head.

"If you mean the master of this dungeon, I dare not claim that title," the elderly figure explained, reaching for a cane and using it to rise. "I am the guardian of this hellish place. The dungeon's master spared me in exchange for serving as the guide to the ninth trial."

"Just an old man?" Joey quipped with a smirk. "Killing you wouldn't be much of a trial."

"Even if you were to slay me, you won't reach the final trial of this dungeon," the man countered, his voice weary. "I'm nothing more than a gatekeeper. Call me Uncle John."

Silence fell over the group as they regarded Uncle John with suspicion. Their collective thoughts were unanimous: this man's friendly demeanor in such dire circumstances made him appear deranged. Even if he had resorted to servitude under the devil's command to save himself, he remained a harbinger of the devil's darkness.

"Tell us about this trial," Arthur demanded, his patience waning.

"You're a quick and astute one, young man," Uncle John acknowledged with a nod, settling back down and clutching his frail, bony cane. "This trial is symbolic. Runera has been laid to ruin by the selfish desires of its ruler. Each of you will confront your inner demons in the form of a demon, and you must overcome them. Those who fail will perish, while the survivors will proceed to the final trial."

"Selfish desires of the ruler?" Arthur seethed with growing anger. "What kind of twisted game is this, old man? I would never bring disaster to my city!"

"Your city?" Uncle John muttered; his confusion apparent as he tilted his head. "Ah, I understand now. This entire floor was constructed to punish you. You are... the one who will suffer the most in this floor."

Arthur's chest felt like it was on the brink of explosion. The accusation that he was responsible for his city's downfall tore at him, shattering his composure. In response, tendrils of black lightning crackled violently around him, causing the rest of the group to retreat, their fear palpable. The old man couldn't help but chuckle at the spectacle, raising a trembling finger toward Arthur.

"Look at that, the selfish man loses control of his anger once again," Uncle John remarked, pointing at Arthur. "Those around you cower in fear, aware that they are mere pawns, destined to be sacrificed when the time comes."

"Bullshit!" Arthur retorted vehemently, his arm gesturing wildly, causing the lightning to roar in response. "I have never once sacrificed anyone for my own gain!"

The old guardian's grin widened as he opened his palm. Simultaneously, the gates of Runera parted before the six challengers.

"Each of you must choose a path," Uncle John explained, his voice taking on a sinister tone. "At the end, you'll confront your own villainous selves."

Arthur didn't need to look at the others to sense the fear in their eyes. His rage, which had been an asset until now, was now casting him as a monster in the eyes of his companions. Fueled by anger and determination, he stormed off, entering the central path of the city.

If the old man's words were true, he would encounter a version of himself responsible for Runera's fall. Arthur was determined to see if he truly bore the guilt for this destruction. If he did, he would eliminate this dark reflection of himself.

The path was engulfed in emerald flames, littered with the remains of corpses reduced to bones. Arthur's gaze fell upon them, further stoking his anger. He cut a path through the city's ruins until he reached a once-grand mansion, now charred and dilapidated.

With a creak, the mansion's door swung open, allowing him inside. It was a desolate, ashen shell of its former opulence. In the center of the mansion, a figure sat on a chair, head bowed low.

"Are you me?" Arthur asked the figure, prompting it to raise its head. When he saw the face, a wave of revulsion washed over him. The black and golden robes, the golden flowers sprouting from the chest, and the unsettling mask that obscured his features—all were his own.

"Is this... the final reckoning?" a voice emerged from behind the mask, identical to Arthur's own. "Am I... to be slain by myself?"

"You're nothing but an illusion," Arthur declared, drawing his Nightmare dagger. "A test I must pass to navigate this dungeon, nothing more."

The masked figure burst into laughter, its haunting mirth echoing throughout the mansion. "Hahahahahaha!"

"...What's so amusing?" Arthur inquired.

"That you view me as a counterfeit Arthur," the masked figure replied, rising from the chair, its body trembling. "You should understand... we share the same existence."

Arthur frowned, reluctant to accept it. However, there was nothing about the figure that suggested it was a mere illusion. "What are you?"

"I am Arthur Silvera," the masked man proclaimed, spreading his arms wide. "I bear many titles: Outsider, Creator, Seika, and even the Demon King. Yet, there's one title I truly deserve."

"And what is that?" Arthur inquired, his heart quaking as he sensed the anguish in his own voice.

"The man who lost everything."

Fear surged through Arthur as he heard the pain in his own words. The eyes behind the mask were hollow, devoid of purpose. This man had lost his way, unsure of his identity.

"How did..." Arthur began, lowering his dagger, "Runera fall?"

"Runera did not fall," the masked figure confessed, turning to face Arthur. Its eyes were filled with grief and rage, surrounded by crackling black lightning. "I destroyed it."

"Impossible," Arthur protested, shaking his head. "I could never commit such an act."

"We wouldn't indeed," the masked figure laughed bitterly. "But... we both know this body is shared."

Thud!

Arthur watched as the figure pounded its chest, a crazed look in its eyes. Arthur couldn't bear to face the truth, but if this was his future, he needed to confront it.

"Tell me how to save Runera," Arthur implored.

"Why should I?" the masked figure asked, shaking its head. "You're here to replace me, just as we replaced the previous Arthur Silvera. We merged timelines, stole his body, and you're here to save your timeline while I perish."

Arthur suddenly realized the truth about this place. The words and knowledge he carried couldn't be illusions. This portal hadn't taken them to the demonic realm; it had transported them to a parallel timeline where Arthur Silvera had lost everything.

"You've already lost everything!" Arthur retorted with determination, taking a step forward. "Tell me how to save Runera, so I can prevent the same mistakes you made!"

"We both know there's another option for me, Arthur Silvera," the masked figure declared, its black lightning forming a long sword. "By killing you here, I can return to your timeline. I have nothing here—no home, no family, not even the one person I love."

Arthur froze, recognizing that the masked figure wasn't jesting. This version of himself had lost everything, including those he cherished. Instead of assisting another version of himself in finding happiness, he wanted to seize that happiness for himself.

"I understand now what led to Runera's fall," Arthur admitted, summoning Nightmare with a cry of defiance. "It may indeed have been... my own selfishness."