A Tale of Forgotten Gods

Chapter 107: The Monocle

Looking at the mask, Murphy stepped back slowly. How was that possible... His gaze locked on the mask resting on the pillow, and his hand dropped low.

He slowly walked out of the bedroom and jumped out through the window.

He landed silently on the damp grass below, his breathing steady despite what he had just seen. That mask still existed; did that mean the thing he had killed wasn’t the true demonic being?

He slowly moved toward the endless stairs and stopped near it.

’My feelings are telling me to not walk there.’ Mo Fei thought in his mind, but the act of Murphy pulled him forward, his muscles screaming to move toward it to understand it.

With a deep breath, he finally walked toward it.

Stepping on the first staircase, he tilted his head at the sky. They were truly endless, only hidden by the clouds, which only seemed to worsen their length.

He pressed his hat and walked ahead.

As he kept moving, he saw the green lines moving upward and vines curled around the edge of the stairs. The wind passed by him, dropping the oxygen level significantly, but he didn’t stop climbing. He inhaled a long breath, feeling nauseated, and clenched his stomach. The wound by the entity in the train was still fresh, aching when he pressed his hand.

Step after step, the quiet sound of his boots hitting the stone echoed into the void. Twenty minutes had passed, and he was only halfway through.

​Murphy glanced down over the edge of the railing. The ground below, Emerald Town, and even the surrounding hills had completely disappeared into a thick, swirling blanket of fog. There was no going back the normal way; looking behind him, the lower steps seemed to dissolve into the mist as soon as his feet left them.

​”Distortion...” Murphy muttered, his grey eyes narrowing under the brim of his fedora.

​As he climbed higher, the texture beneath his boots changed. The cold, solid granite of the staircase gave way to something strangely soft and fibrous. The green vines lining the banisters extended upward.

​Suddenly, his foot struck a small object lying on the corner of a step.

​Murphy paused and knelt down, ignoring the sharp twinge in his stomach. He picked up a small, frayed blue hair ribbon covered in fresh dirt. ”Someone has been forcefully pulled away from here.”

Time passed further as he finally reached the chamber. The air surrounding him thickened even further; without anything to give him oxygen, his breathing turned extremely slow and difficult to breathe. ”Divine Serpent, can you do something about it... I’m currently approximately 2.5 miles (ca. 4 km) high from land.”

A long pause followed, then the Serpent’s voice slithered through his mind. ”The air is thin here, Great Master, but I can put up a spiritual barrier of the spirit world. It won’t last long since you don’t have complete control over it.”

With that, a thin, invisible veil curled around him. The burning in his lungs eased as he exhaled slowly and finally took the next step forward.

An estate ahead of him loomed over the vast field, and a large gate closed on the entrance. Just as he took a step forward on that hard stone surface, the door opened slowly, but there was no one inside waiting for him.

Inside, chandeliers of emerald crystal hung from the ceiling, brightening up the place and casting a shadow across the long pathway ahead. As he moved inside, he saw many pots decorated near the walls, and then he finally reached another large gateway, alongside the both sides, two large statues, holding vast weapons stood completely still.

Murphy’s eyes swept over the statues. They were carved from the dark brown stones, like mud, their faces were frozen in expressions of serene judgment and while keeping their hardened expressions. Each held a weapon; one of them had a massive halberd, and the other had a broadsword that touched the ground.

The moment Murphy took a step forward, both of the giants stirred, and the sound of stones grinding against each other echoed in the chamber. The statues turned their heads in unison, their vacant eyes locking onto him.

”Of course.” Murphy muttered, reaching for his revolver and instantly pulling it out, the shape-shifting back to his long, double-edged Glaive as he gripped the haft. ”Nothing is ever simple; things without struggle typically give a massive cost.”

He struck the first blade of his Glaive on the ground as a high-pitched screeching came. ”Better this way, I suppose.”

The halberd-wielding statue lunged, its weapon cleaving through the air with a speed that should be impossible for something that vast. Murphy dove sideways, rolling across the polished floor as the halberd shattered the stone where he had stood.

Just then, the second statue swung its broadsword in a wide arc. Murphy ducked under it, feeling the wind of the blade pass inches above his head as he slid between its legs and slammed his Glaive on its feet. That time, the statue’s knee joint buckled and lost the balance, and the giant with the broadsword stumbled.

”Stone guardians...” Murphy thought, his mind racing behind his cold expression.

The halberd swept low, forcing him to jump. He twisted mid-air and spun his Glaive directly into the statue’s face, pushing it backward, then landed on its head, and with another jump, he smashed his boots onto its head. The stone head cracked slightly, dirt falling on the ground.

The second statue swung the broadsword; Murphy swiftly jumped and landed on the blade before surging forward, then drove his Glaive through its chest and landed a heavy kick.

The giant went crashing into the wall behind it. He quickly turned toward the halberd-holding statue, which ran toward him, shaking the entire palace from its weight. Murphy rolled away swiftly, avoiding the hit easily and murmured under his breath. ”All of this is illogical, how is a palace this large is standing still when it should have turned into debris.”

He opened his Apprentice’s Eyes, and looked at the spirit threads; even nonliving things had them, but they didn’t have any internal functions. Even if he’d sever their threads, it’d do nothing to stop them. Hell, would they even feel pain?

Within a few seconds, Murphy analyzed their movements. The halberd statue was fast, but it wasn’t stable enough; on the other hand, the broadsword statue was slower, but it hit harder, meaning it’d have more strength to resist.

As the halberd statue lunged again, Murphy pivoted and lured it toward the broadsword welder as the halberd swept low. Using his Glaive, he jumped high and launched himself toward the broadsword statue’s face and drove his Glaive into its its eyes socket, twisting the blade and then the construct faltered, stumbling backward.

Then quickly Murphy turned toward the halberd statue and landed on the ground; before it could lift its hand, he slammed the Glaive on its hand, then using its momentum, he called out. ”Divine Serpent, lift it.” The speed increased, and he slammed the statue into its companion.

He stepped back slowly, breathing heavily as his muscles screamed after lifting the weight that he couldn’t have without the Serpent’s help.

The two giants crashed together and shook the ground as their massive weight hit the floor.

Both of the giants couldn’t move as their stones crumbled and fell on the floor.

Murphy straightened, brushing stone dust from his coat. ”Useless craft of dirt.”

The Glaive in his hand shifted back to revolver as he tucked it into his belt and opened the main door. He slowly entered inside and reached another hallway that led to different rooms.

He entered a dining room, and at the far end of the hall, a long table stretched across the floor. Seated around it were two people in dark green clothing; both of their faces were perfect, not a single imperfection, and on the table was food served as they ate it quietly. The man spoke first. ”Now it feels dull to eat the same food everyday.”

After saying that, he lifted his hand and put it on his cheek, circling the spoon on the cooked meat on the table.

As the cloth moved down, Murphy noticed the ribbon in his hand. He was an Ascended, but the color of the ribbon was pitch black.

Mo Fei closed his Apprentice’s Eyes and stared at the both people while hiding behind the pillar. ’They are Ascended, but how do they have those different-colored ribbons? Their presence doesn’t seem human-like either. What are they?’

Suddenly both of them stood, leaving behind the half-eaten food, and walked toward a door. Mo Fei quietly followed them; he knew the scent of that food; he had smelled it in the undergrounds of the Clockwork. Those humans were just food to them, and in return they gave the chief an enormous amount of wealth, so that was it.

They entered in the second chamber, and stopped near a triangle drawn on a wall. Beneath that triangle, a monocle rested. One of them grabbed it and put it on his right eye; the light reflected through the glass.

The man with the monocle, who had green hair, blinked once, then put the monocle back in its place and whispered. ”This artifact is still useless; my one eye is still unworthy.”

The man beside him with blue hair, spoke next. ”It’s because the tower of light has no God; this artifact only works when your eyes are not infected by the parasites of ’His’ will.”

”He is not the problem; the bigger issue is the one watching us... They are always watching.”

[Please ignore it since I have to fix my mistake I’m sorry again. I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I]