Relic [1]

It was Betal. 

The figure on the tree was known as Betal, and he was a unique kind of undead. While he shared some traits with vampires, he was not exactly one of them. Betal had a penchant for blood, much like a vampire. 

Given his vampiric nature, I knew that the key to summoning Betal lay in a simple yet profound act – offering a trace of my own blood. 

Though it was simple, it was a call he couldn't resist, and as I contemplated this ancient and eerie method.

As Betal stood before me, the situation took a perilous turn. I couldn't help but acknowledge the impending danger.

Despite my familiarity with the events from the novel, I knew that the risk of facing him was real, and the stakes were high.

The relic I sought was undoubtedly worth the potential peril that lay ahead.

I understood that even armed with knowledge from the novel, the spectre of death loomed over me.

With a single step, the world around us plunged into darkness, enveloping us in an eerie void. It was as if the world had disappeared, leaving only him and me in isolation.

This was Betal's skill [[Space Isolation]], his skill to wield space itself, isolating himself and his prey from the rest of the world.

He chuckled softly as he approached me, his steps echoing in the stillness of the forest. "After all this time, a meal comes to me willingly," he remarked, amusement dancing in his eyes.

"Speak, human. Why have you sought me out?" His voice held a curious edge, tinged with the hunger of ages past.

And as I stood before him, the weight of his gaze bore down upon me, demanding an answer to the question that hung in the air.

His tone grated on my nerves, but I knew better than to challenge him. He was far too powerful for me to contend with, unlike the protagonist from the novel.

Despite my irritation, I hadn't come here to engage in battle. I had learned a way from the novel how to achieve my goal without resorting to direct confrontation.

" I have come to grant your deepest desire,"

 I declared, my voice steady despite the unease churning within me.

"To release you from this eternal prison, to grant you the peace of eternal sleep."

As I spoke, Betal's laughter ceased, and he covered his face with one hand, his demeanor shifting from amusement to curiosity tinged with disbelief.

"How could someone like you, weaker than those who have come before, possess the strength to end me?" he questioned, his voice a mixture of incredulity and defiance.

"I've offered treasure to others who attempted my demise, yet they all failed," he proclaimed with a sudden burst of anger.

"Every single one of them failed. And for their failure, the only reward I could bestow upon them was death."

Betal's only wish was to find release from his torment, but a curse bound him to the ancient tree, trapping him in solitary confinement for centuries.

Immortal but unable to die, he endured the passage of time, his sanity slipping away with each passing year.

Four hundred long years had passed since he first felt the weight of his immortal curse.

Hunger gnawed at him, and thirst parched his throat, yet he could neither eat nor drink, trapped in a cruel existence.

As the years stretched on, Betal's desperation grew. He longed for death, for an end to his eternal torment.

Despite his desperate longing for death, he found himself unable to end his own life, the curse binding him to the tree with unbreakable chains.

Hoping to find solace in oblivion, he offered treasures beyond imagining to any who stumbled upon him, in exchange for the release of death.

Yet, one by one, they all failed to grant him the mercy he sought, meeting their own demise instead.

Despite the sense of danger looming around me, I found myself surprisingly calm. Fear seemed absent, replaced only by a vague awareness of the impending threat. But I quickly shook off any distraction; dealing with him was my priority.

"There's a big difference between them and me," I stated firmly, my voice steady despite the tension in the air. "I possess the knowledge of how to end your existence."

He scoffed incredulously. "And what does knowledge have to do with this? Do you think you can defeat me in a debate?"

I shook my head. "No, I just need to stab you in a certain place."

As I spoke, an ominous aura emanated from him, sending waves of power rippling through the air even though he stood fifty meters away. His skepticism was palpable.

"So, you're telling me that a simple stab in a specific spot on my body would suffice? I've been torn apart countless times, only to regenerate. And you think you can end me with just one stab?"

Though his doubt hung heavy in the air, I stood my ground, unwavering in my conviction. I knew that my knowledge held the key to victory, even in the face of such overwhelming power.

I looked Betal in the eyes and said, "Betal, do you remember what the last person you killed said?"

***

In the year 2075, the world witnessed a remarkable event as beings from distant realms sought refuge on Earth. Among them were elves, dwarves, and many others, fleeing from their own lands to find safety among humans.

During this time, humans discovered a new method of obtaining relics, objects of great power and significance, not only from interdimensional rifts but also from certain dwarves who possessed the craftsmanship of relic-making.

These dwarves, known as relicsmiths, were a rare and precious few in number.

One such relicsmith found himself in a dire situation when a human named Betal became consumed by greed.

Betal, driven by his insatiable desire for wealth and power, kidnapped a relicsmith dwarf in hopes of obtaining a relic for himself.

Relics were highly sought after, even fetching millions for common rank ones, making them a symbol of immense wealth and influence.

Taking the dwarf deep into the heart of the forest, Betal bound him to a tree, demanding to know the location of his relic.

However, the dwarf's dedication to his craft and his people ran deep, and he steadfastly refused to reveal any information about his creations.

As Betal's frustration grew, he resorted to cruel tactics, resorting to torture in his relentless pursuit of the relic. Despite the agony inflicted upon him, the dwarf remained resolute in his silence, unwilling to betray his people or compromise the sanctity of his work.

After enduring countless hours of torment, the dwarf's silence only fueled Betal's fury. Eventually, his patience wore thin, and in a fit of rage, he discovered the relic hidden upon the dwarf's person

With a twisted sense of triumph, Betal mocked the dwarf, knowing that he had achieved his goal.

"You may not tell me where your other relics are," Betal sneered, "but at least I have one now. Allow me to give you a gift - the gift of death." 

With a wave of his hand, Betal ignited his sword with fire magic, engulfing it in flames. The flames danced ominously as Betal plunged the sword into the dwarf's mouth, the fire consuming him from within.

The dwarf's body writhed in agony as the flames consumed him, his silent screams lost in the crackling of the fire.

As the flames subsided and the charred remains of both the dwarf and the tree fell silent, an eerie stillness settled over the forest.

But amidst the quiet, a strange noise began to echo from all directions, sending shivers down Betal's spine.

It was a voice, faint yet unmistakable, as if someone was speaking from beyond the grave. The words carried a haunting melody, weaving a tale of sorrow and despair:

"In shadows I dwell, a tale to tell,

Bound by your hand, in a cursed spell.

No peace in sight, no joy to find,

In this tree of fate, our fates entwined."

Betal listened in horror as the voice accused him of his crimes, revealing that he had condemned not only the dwarf but himself to a fate of eternal torment. The voice spoke of endless suffering and misery, a punishment for the sins Betal had committed.

"I perished because of thee,

Now trapped, you'll share my misery.

Seeking solace, you'll find none,

In this bleak existence, life undone."

With each word, Betal's fear intensified.

"Two paths lie ahead, fate's decree,

To end your torment, to set you free.

One by a heart pure and true,

Or the same fate as mine, for you to rue."

As the voice faded into the stillness of the forest, Betal found himself bound by invisible chains, tethered to the cursed tree.

The relic he had obtained vanished from his grasp, leaving him alone with his guilt and the weight of his sins.

And so, the tale of Betal and his victim came to a chilling end.