CHAPTER 106: CHAPTER 106: KALAMUS HOUSE (4)

The battle dragged on. Arrows, spells, steel, and daggers struck again and again, slowly weakening the beasts. Finally, after a deafening roar, the last basilisk fell, its massive body crashing against the frozen ground, raising a cloud of poisonous frost.

Silence once more reigned in the cavern. Only the ragged breaths of the eleven women remained, their bodies drenched in sweat and blood, but their eyes still burning with fire. They had survived. They had won.

A new notification echoed in the air:

[You have cleared the Third Phase]

The walls of ice trembled, and a dark portal opened before them, exhaling an even colder, more biting breath.

Jax stepped forward, raising his sword.

"Well done. Now... let’s see what monster awaits us in the next chamber."

The group advanced down the frozen corridor, each step lifting small clouds of mist. The cold seeped into their bones, and stalactites hung like blades above their heads. Every warrior stood ready, weapons in hand, magic charged. Jax led them, eyes sharp, missing no detail.

"Stay alert," he whispered. "This won’t be easy."

[Environment Alert: Library detected. Possible enemies: unknown]

The entrance was vast, a hall of smooth stone, covered in dust and silence. No doors, no enemies, no visible traps. Only a table at the center with a small book atop it, open as if waiting for them.

"Is this it?" Zela asked, lowering her shield slightly.

"Seems... way too quiet," added Zyra.

"I don’t trust this," Riven intervened, tightening the grip on her axe. "Stay sharp."

Jax nodded and moved first, sword in hand. The warriors spread across the hall, covering every angle, while Manaia and the other healers kept protective spells active. Jayde vanished in a feline leap, patrolling the shadows with her assassin instincts.

Reaching the table, Jax picked up the book. The cover was worn, but the title was still legible:

"Memories of Kalamus"

They all gathered around. The air in the room seemed to grow heavier as they read the first lines.

"I am Kalamus, heir of the arcane lineage. I was born in a world where my race ruled with an iron fist and unbreakable wisdom. We, the Arcanists, were masters of mana, the pinnacle of creation, while the lesser races bent as vassals before our power. Nothing escaped our dominion: neither war, nor knowledge, nor magic."

"From childhood, I knew I was unlike the others. At eight years old, I had already reached level 50, a feat others only dreamed of their entire lives. At twelve, I crossed the mark of 75, and by eighteen, I was a titan among mortals, reaching level 90. At thirty-eight I reached my peak, level 95, hailed as the most gifted mage in the entire history of the Arcanists."

"I felt invincible. I had never lost a battle, neither against other Arcanists, nor beasts, nor the eternal enemies of our empire. All called me the future Emperor, the natural successor to the throne. But I never had the intention of seizing the crown from my father. He, the Wise Emperor, was more than a king: he was a just, strong, and beloved ruler. In my heart there was no desire to dethrone him, only to keep perfecting my art, because even with all my power... I knew the true summit of knowledge still awaited me."

"My hunger for power could not be sated with simple studies in the crystal towers. So, with the blessing of my father, the Wise Emperor, I set out to travel the world. I did not go alone, by my side marched my most loyal friend and vassal: Elkid, the Black Knight. His lance was shadow and steel, his will an eternal flame of loyalty. Together we rode over empires, kingdoms, and fortresses."

"There was no negotiation, no truce. Those who dared oppose the Arcane Empire were reduced to ashes by my hand. The obstinate fell in seas of fire, their walls shattered by burning lakes I myself invoked, and when their cries of resistance rose to the sky, I answered with my supreme gift: the Crimson Meteors. Mountains of fire fell from the firmament, opening craters where once stood cities. Those who survived never rebelled again; they fell to their knees and proclaimed my name as that of the future Emperor who unleashed the fury of the heavens."

"My crusade lasted decades. In the end, every crown of the Empire’s enemies rested at my feet, along with their severed heads. It was a ceremony unlike any other: thirty days and thirty nights of celebration, banquets overflowing with meat and wine, dances that never ceased, and orgies that consumed every street of the capital. It was the Arcanist tradition, for thus we celebrated victory: the city itself drowned in sweat, sex, and fluids, a carnal feast burning in every corner as a living tribute to power."

"The people chanted my name, and the vassals hailed me as a living god. In those days, I believed I had reached the pinnacle, that nothing and no one could ever stop me. Yet in the silence of my nights... the question remained: was this truly all that power could give me?"

"The answer to my question did not take long to arrive. My father, the Wise Emperor, fell ill. No one dared say it aloud, but I saw it in his eyes: the fire that had made him rule for centuries was fading away. His body, once mighty, weakened with each passing day, and in his final breaths he called me to his side."

"’My son,’ he said, his voice as frail as a dying ember. ’The Empire must not know the void of power. If you survive me without the weight of the crown, chaos will consume our lands. You swear respect to me, but that respect must become duty. Accept the throne... before my life ends.’"

"I did not wish to see him abdicate, but I understood his will. I could not refuse. And so, when his end approached, I was led to the Grand Imperial Plaza, where the coronation awaited. It was a day of unmeasured joy: red and blue banners—the colors of my bloodline—waved on every tower. Wine flowed like rivers of silver water. The women marched naked, proudly showing their curves, and the men, drunk with glory, paraded with their manhoods swaying free, eager to throw themselves into the celebration that honored the arcane bloodline."

"The roar of the crowd was deafening, an entire world surrendered at my feet. The Emperor, my father, rose one last time. With trembling hands, he removed the crown he had borne for ages, and as he placed it upon my head, the fate of the world changed forever."