Chapter 70: Chapter 70: Calling of Monster

Far beneath the ground, deeper than sunlight could ever dream to touch, there was a cave forgotten even by time. The air was thick, ancient, heavy with the weight of old spells and the scent of decay. Crystals jutted from the walls like frozen lightning, casting dim reflections over carvings that whispered of forbidden rituals long erased from history.

There, in that hollow silence, an old man sat before a dying fire. His name was Akumo Riol, once known across realms as the Destroyer of Weakness — a title earned through centuries of battle and blood. But now his hair was white as ash, his hands trembling like leaves in wind, and his strength — once the kind that could bend mountains — had faded into the frailty of age.

He muttered to himself, staring into the dying light of the fire.

“Years… decades… centuries… yet still this world crawls with weakness.”

His voice was rough, like gravel grinding under steel: “The Lords have fallen. The dragons sleep. The magicians rot in their temples, and the warriors hide behind thrones. Where is strength now? Where is power?”

He coughed, the sound echoing through the stone like thunder in a tomb. Slowly, he forced himself to his feet, his back bent yet his eyes ablaze with a dark resolve. The old man moved to a black altar carved from obsidian, where strange runes glowed faintly across its surface-ancient words which even gods had feared to speak.

From within his robe, he drew a piece of tattered and burnt fabric-a fragment of an old magical cloak. The edges glimmered faintly, pulsating with an energy not from the world of the living.

Akumo smiled-the grin of a man staring at both madness and triumph.

“At last… I have you.”

The ritual he began was one forbidden even among the darkest of magicians: the Reanimation of the Fallen. To tear a soul from the realm of death and bind it once more to the living was to defy creation itself.

Blood dripped from Akumo’s palm as he drew symbols upon the stone. The markings blazed crimson, spreading across the floor like living veins. He whispered the final verse:

“From the ashes of ruin, from the silence of graves,

Rise once more, bearer of the mask —

Arise, Richard of the Black Flame.

In a burst of black fire, the fragment of his cloak burned away. For the beat of a heart, the cave was silent — and then the altar cracked open.

A puff of wind howled from inside and then a shadow rose tall and fierce. The form of a man took shape, broad-shouldered, cloaked with smoke and fire, his face hidden behind a black mask marked with crimson sigils. His very presence made the air bow.

Then the shadow took shape, flesh and form.

The man opened his eyes. They smoldered like molten gold behind the mask.

He breathed in heavily, as if feeling the world anew after centuries of death.

“Where… am I?” His voice was low, resonant, cold.

Akumo took a step forward, clutching his staff to steady himself. “You stand beneath the earth, Richard… in the place where the world forgot its gods.”

Richard turned slowly, his gaze sweeping the ancient chamber. “You brought me back…” His tone was both full of wonder and threatening. “Why?”

Akumo smiled faintly, his voice trembling between pride and exhaustion.

“I am like you once were-a seeker of strength. But time is cruel. My body betrays me now, yet my will remains unbroken. I brought you back because your dream and mine are the same. You sought to rule this world through power. I… sought to cleanse it.”

Richard narrowed his eyes. “You speak of power, old man,” he said, “but you are weak. I can feel it in your bones.”

Akumo chuckled low in his throat. “Weak? Perhaps. But it is weakness which compels men like me to create monsters like you.

Richard stepped closer, his cloak trailing shadows that coiled across stone. “Tell me, how did you summon me? The last thing I remember was… the fire. My body turned to ash in battle.”

Akumo raised a shaking hand and pointed to the altar. “A piece of your cloak remained-buried in the battlefield. I found it years ago, hidden beneath the bones of your enemies. With it, I called your spirit back and gave it flesh again-a vessel strong enough to hold your essence.”

Richard’s eyes dropped to his hands, curling them into fists. His strength was whole again-alive. He could feel his pulse roaring with old magic. “So… you reanimated me, old one. You brought me back from the abyss. But for what purpose?

Akumo’s smile grew thin. “To finish what neither of us could do alone — to destroy this rotten world and rebuild it under one name. Power shall rule, not bloodlines or gods. The strong will inherit the earth.”

Richard tilted his head, his voice darkly amused. “You speak like a philosopher trapped in a dying body. What makes you think I’d join you instead of killing you where you stand?”

Akumo’s laughter echoed into the cave — hollow, confident.

“Because, Richard the Great, even in death you could not fulfill your destiny. You were betrayed, were you not? By those you called allies? The world feared your strength — so they erased you from existence. I… have given you back your chance to finish what was stolen from you.”

Richard fell silent, his gaze going distant, the flicker of old memories flashing behind his eyes: betrayal, fire, the blade striking from behind-he still heard the screams.

He spoke slowly, “You know much, Akumo. Perhaps too much.”

“I have lived too long not to know,” Akumo replied. “I have seen kings rise and fall, dragons burn, magicians devour their own souls. I have watched the weak breed and call themselves rulers. And all the while, the true ones-the chosen of power-vanished. But you, Richard… you were born for more. Your power was said to rival even the dragons themselves.”

At that, Richard’s eyes sparkled. “Dragons…,” he whispered. “Their flame was my flame. Their rage, my command. Yes… I remember.”

Akumo nodded. “Then remember this — you were never meant to serve anyone. You were meant to rule. But alone, your reign ended. Together, it could begin anew.”

Richard’s gaze snapped back to him. “Together?”

Akumo spread his hands toward the darkness, and his voice took on a cold fervency.

“I offer you alliance, not servitude. I will teach you the forbidden rites the gods buried beneath the earth. And you — with your strength and youth restored — will carry them into the world above. Together, we will awaken the sleeping legions. The dead will march, and the living will kneel.”

The chamber was silent except for the drip of water on the ceiling. Richard did not blink as he stared at Akumo.

“And what do you gain from this alliance, old man?” he finally asked.

Akumo’s lips curled into a grin that was almost painful to look at. “Legacy. When the world burns, they will remember the name Akumo Riol as the one who lit the final dawn.”

Richard leant his head to one side, firelight dancing across his mask.

“Legacy is for mortals, who fear to be forgotten. I am beyond that.”

“Then prove it,” Akumo whispered. “Help me reshape the world.” Neither of them spoke for a long moment. The cave seemed to hold its breath. Then Richard slowly extended his hand — not in agreement, but to conjure flame. A dark, violet fire flared in his palm, lighting the runes upon the walls. His voice rolled like thunder. “If I accept, Akumo… know this: I serve no one. I don’t share thrones. I build them.” Akumo stared into the fire, unflinching. “Then let us build one — and watch the world burn beneath it.” The two men locked eyes, the old and the reborn, decaying and immortal. The flames between them twisted upward, mixing red and violet as if the very earth shook at their union. Then suddenly, Richard’s fist closed, and the flame was gone. The cave was in darkness once more. One line now cut through the hush, cold, uncertain, with the weight of destiny upon it. A soft, whispering voice came from Richard: “…Tell me your plan,Akumo.

Akumo laughed. “Hahaha, you are such a child. You want to rule, and I want powers to get back to my prime.”

Richard feels about him; he is also like a beast type, same as him. Something is more about being unique. Akumo used such powerful forbidden rituals that anyone even knows about it.

Now Richard really impressed him; he is also interested to learn these things.

Akumo shouts, “Remember, boy, you are in the age just like a boy in front of me. This is the present time, which is a new era for us. You and I, we are in back days, people. This is not our time.”

Richard in calm “I understand, but I can’t understand you and fully put my faith in you.”

Akumo “Remember the pain you suffered. Don’t you give back to them to realize who you are!

Richard: “Okay, explain to me your thoughts. Let me decide… if this world deserves to burn.

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