**The Scarlet Cavern – Part 4**
The moment Felix and I stepped inside and the door closed behind us, complete darkness enveloped the chamber. Light from my rod soon revealed a floor littered with the grotesque corpses of monsters.
"What in the world...?"
The wet sounds underfoot weren’t water—they were pools of monster blood. Even after countless battles in my past life, the sight chilled me.
Felix steadied me as I recoiled.
"...Sorry. I didn’t expect this."
"A natural reaction. Likely, monsters born here were trapped by the barrier and turned on each other."
Monsters spawned from dense miasma. While the miasma leaked past the door, the creatures themselves couldn’t escape, creating a nightmarish ecosystem of cannibalism.
"That means this place is—"
A dragging, slithering sound cut me off.
"Tiana!"
Felix yanked me aside just as the ground where I’d stood exploded upward. Had I remained, I’d have been torn apart.
"That appears to be the sole survivor."
"......!"
In the direction Felix glared stood a grotesque abomination—a fused mass of multiple monsters, their mangled forms melded into one.
While I stood frozen in horror, Felix remained eerily calm.
*(It’s absorbing the corpses of the monsters it killed...)*
"Stay back. I’ll handle this."
"...Alright. Be careful."
His sword flashed silver as he lunged, each strike precise. Yet the monstrosity countered with surprising agility for its size.
*(Its regeneration is terrifying...)*
Even as Felix carved into it, the wounds sealed instantly.
Felix accelerated, magic circles flaring underfoot. His attacks became a blur—sword and spells intertwining—outpacing the creature’s healing. It was the epitome of a mage’s combat prowess.
Envy prickled my mage’s heart.
Felix needed no help, and my watching would change nothing.
*"...I have to do what I can."*
Edging along the wall, I pressed deeper into the chamber. The stench of rot and miasma made my head spin, but I pushed forward.
At the room’s heart stood an altar.
*(This is the curse’s source.)*
A small box sat at its center. The anguish and hatred radiating from it twisted my stomach.
This cursed artifact—crafted from countless human sacrifices—had anchored the curse to this land.
*(I’m starting to understand... the nature of this curse.)*
Its man-made origin was undeniable. And lifting it would confirm my suspicions.
Felix still fought behind me, though the monster was weakening. Victory was inevitable.
"Okay."
After steadying my breath, I began preparing the purification ritual. Thanks to Felix and Rufino, my mana reserves were nearly untouched.
Breaking a curse required mana and a medium—something holy like blessed water or relics. Against this magnitude, water would be laughably ineffective.
And the empire, having exhausted its relics in futile defenses, had none left.
*(So I’ll use mine.)*
Magic dwelled in blood, and a saintess’s blood was exceptionally potent. In the past, my blood alone had been traded as a curse antidote, sparking scandals.
Though my mana was now a shadow of its former self, my blood’s sanctity remained.
*(With my current limits, all I can offer is flawless spellwork... and every drop of my blood.)*
I drew a knife across my left palm and began painting a magic circle beneath the altar with my blood.
Once complete, I gripped my rod, knelt, and pressed my bleeding hand to the circle.
—If I failed, the curse would flood my veins, killing me instantly.
*(I’m... a little scared.)*
Facing this curse in my weakened state terrified me. Knowing my past power only highlighted my inadequacy.
But hesitation wasn’t an option.
*"...I can do this. I* will *do this."*
Whispering the incantation, I poured my blood—and all my mana—into the circle.