Chapter 162: Chapter 162: Who Is The Undead Master?

“Adonis, now that we are here, what is our next plan?” Millia, who was in the disguise of Mira, whispered to Adonis (Lukas).

​Adonis looked around the city, noticing only undead and skeletons roaming the streets. It looked like any other human city, but the number of undead far outweighed the living beings. Humans like them were rarely seen.

​”Our next task is to find an inn for our stay, then investigate the Undead Master. If my guess is correct, he lives in that golden cube,” he whispered back, careful of prying ears.

​”That is good. I need to see some humans to keep my sanity over here,” she said.

​Adonis replied while walking, “I have heard that humans are rare here. Only those who have lost their reason to live, or those seeking eternal life, come to this place.”

​”Eternal life? Is it real?” she asked curiously.

​”I am not certain about that. But we have to be careful; we are not here to turn into the undead.”

​”Hehe, I just imagined your undead form. Even in skeletal form, you would look very charming and handsome,” she muttered, laughing.

​Adonis smiled naughtily. “You would also remain a seductress, I am sure.”

​Suddenly, his senses went on high alert. He sensed someone had been following them for a while now. He held Millia’s hand and paused. While she was still confused, he swiftly turned around, only to see the skeleton of a young girl standing there, looking up at them with frightened eyes.

​”What do you want, little girl?” he asked sharply, making the little skeleton flinch.

​”M-my name is Kelly, Mister. I—I was not following you with any ill intentions. I would like to invite you to our inn for your stay.”

Adonis looked down at the small skeleton, noting how her tiny ribcage rattled with every movement. Even in this city of the dead, she maintained a strange, childlike posture that felt out of place amidst the gloom.

Millia squeezed his hand, her eyes softening as she looked at the young girl.

​”An inn sounds like exactly what we need, Kelly,” Millia said, her voice warm and melodic to maintain her Mira persona. “Lead the way. We are quite exhausted from our journey across the black sands.”

​Kelly gave a jerky, skeletal nod and began to hop forward, her bare toe bones clicking rhythmically against the obsidian cobblestones. As they walked, Adonis kept his eyes moving, taking in the macabre architecture of the City of Death. The buildings were tall and narrow, constructed from dark basalt and reinforced with what looked like fossilized bone.

​”Tell me, Kelly,” Adonis said, keeping his tone conversational. “How many humans actually live in this sector? We haven’t seen many since we passed the gates.”

​”Not many, Mister,” Kelly chirped, though her voice had a hollow, echoing quality. “Most people who come here are already half-gone. They hide in the shadows because the sunlight from the Golden Cube hurts their eyes. My Papa says humans are like candles in a cellar. They burn bright for a little bit and then they go out.”

​”And your Papa?” Adonis asked. “Is he like you?”

​”Papa is a Great Wight,” she said with a hint of pride. “He runs the Bone and Barrel Inn. He doesn’t eat people unless they can’t pay their tab, so you don’t have to worry.”

​Millia laughed nervously, leaning closer to Adonis. “That is a very comforting thought, Kelly. Truly.”

​Adonis glanced toward the center of the city, where the massive octagonal cube pulsed with a steady, rhythmic radiance. “The city seems very organized for a place of the dead. Who keeps the order here? Is it the one who lives in the Golden Cube?”

​The moment the words left his mouth, Kelly stopped in her tracks. Her small frame stiffened, and the ghostly green light in her eye sockets flickered violently before dimming to a dull, terrified spark. She began to shake so hard that her shoulder blades clattered against her spine.

​”We don’t talk about the Master,” she whispered, her voice trembling with such intensity that it sounded like dry leaves scraping together. “Please, Mister. Don’t say his name. Don’t even think about the Cube.”

​”Why not?” Adonis pressed, stepping closer. “He is the ruler of this realm, isn’t he? Surely he welcomes visitors of our caliber.”

​”The Master sees everything. He hears the heartbeat of every living thing that enters the walls. If you talk about him, he might look at you. And if he looks at you, you belong to him forever. Please, just come to the inn. It is safe there. The walls are thick.”

​Adonis exchanged a look with Millia. The level of fear exhibited by an undead resident toward their own ruler was staggering. If the “Master” inspired this much terror in a simple innkeeper’s daughter, his power over the souls in this city was absolute.

​”I apologize, Kelly,” Adonis said, his voice softening to put the girl at ease. “I am new here and did not mean to cause alarm. Let’s get to that inn. I think we’ve had enough excitement for one day.”

​The little skeleton seemed to relax slightly, though she continued to cast furtive, panicked glances toward the golden structure in the distance. She led them down a narrow alleyway where the smell of old parchment and cold stone was thick in the air.

At the end of the path sat a lopsided building with a sign swinging from a rusted chain. It depicted a cracked skull resting inside a wooden barrel.

​”We are here, Mister.” Kelly said cheerfully. “This is the Bone and Barrel inn. Papa! We have guests! Real, breathing ones!”

​The heavy oak door groaned open, and a massive figure draped in tattered gray robes stood in the doorway.

This was the Great Wight, Kelly’s father.

His skin was the color of bruised plums and stretched tight over a massive frame. He looked at Adonis and Millia with a gaze that weighed their very life force.

​”Living guests,” the Wight rumbled heartily. “It has been a long time since the air in my lobby tasted of flesh. Come in, travelers. If you have the tokens, we have the rooms. But remember the rule of the house: No prayers, no light spells, and no questions about the Master.”

​Adonis stepped over the threshold, his hand resting casually on the flute at his waist.

“The tokens are not a problem. And as for the rules, I think we can manage to keep our voices down.”

​As they entered the dim, dusty interior of the inn, once again Adonis felt the suffocating death energy.

They were deep in the lion’s den now, and the Master of the Golden Cube was undoubtedly watching.

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