Chapter 22: And the game Begins
The sky boomed with thunderous sounds that seemed to shake the earth, sending turbulent waves across the land. The Oramon room fell into chaos as fear spread like wildfire.
Many screamed, others instinctively pulled out their blades—including the high-ranked exorcists.
Asher, however, tore through the crowd in search of Fey. The sheer panic made navigating the space difficult, bodies pushing and shoving in desperate attempts to find safety. It took time, but eventually, he reached him.
Leaning forward, Asher grabbed Fey's shirt and pulled him closer, yelling over the noise, his voice barely cutting through the uproar.
"Whatever happens, stay close to me!"
He wanted to explain further but held back, knowing too much information might only deepen Fey's panic.
His eyes flickered across the room, searching for Nimora. But the crowd was too dense—there was no finding her.
And then—
Ding!
A large red notification sprang before Asher's eyes.
It was different from the usual system messages. Wider. More ominous.
Ding! Ding! Ding!
The consecutive sounds rang through the air.
"What the hell?!"
A scream erupted from within the crowd, quickly followed by dozens of distressed voices.
"What is this red thing?"
"It's hell!"
"Hell has come to claim us! Strike 'em down!"
Fear and disbelief towered over them all.
Everyone but Asher reacted with sheer panic. Even Fey trembled beside him.
And why wouldn't they?
For all they knew, this was real life. Unlike Asher, they hadn't lived another existence before.
Swords flashed in the dim light as men swung at the red notifications, their minds struggling to process the situation. Even the high-ranked exorcist, Redrics, was not an exception.
But after several futile moments, a voice broke through the madness.
"Wait! Do not react to this sorcery—?"
Someone shouted from the crowd, desperation cutting through their fear.
"Sir Redrics, read the red banner!"
A sudden pause swept over them.
Every eye turned toward their notifications, hesitantly reading the ominous text displayed before them.
Redrics, an exorcist of great stature but not particularly fond of reading, took his time, pronouncing each word carefully.
"Wel—come to—the Deity Game! Survive... The prologue?"
A lump formed in his throat, his eyes widening in sheer disbelief.
Something inside him screamed.
Run!
Asher clenched his jaw. He had a rough idea of what was coming. As a gamer, he had once sat by his table, watching the prologue unfold through the cold glow of his laptop screen.
But now—this wasn't a game.
This was real.
And whatever was happening here was happening everywhere.
Nowhere was safe.
"Run... Everyone run to the Oramon and get the hell out of here!"
Asher's voice roared over the crowd. Without waiting for approval, he grabbed Fey's wrist and yanked him forward, dragging him toward the Oramon.
But just as they took a few steps, a violent gust of wind whooshed past them.
It wasn't from the storm.
It was from Redrics.
In mere seconds, he appeared before Asher, his sword stretched out, its tip resting dangerously close to Asher's throat.
"Young Lord, how dare you mock the royal throne?!"
His voice was rigid, laced with disgust, yet unwavering in its chivalrous authority.
Asher's gaze darkened.
"Don't lecture me about mockery and get the hell out of my way, NPC."
He attempted to move past, but the sharp steel pressed further against his skin.
New n𝙤vel chapters are published on freewebnovel.cσ๓.
A warning.
This was no longer child's play.
"No one will run using the Oramon," Redrics declared, his voice resolute. "We will all return to the kingdom, and Asher will receive his punishment for soiling the name of the Exorcists over a simple storm."
The crowd murmured in agreement.
To them, Asher's panic was nothing but fear made public.
But he wasn't willing to give up.
"Storm?" His voice was filled with raw irritation. "You call this fuck a storm?"
He jabbed a finger at the sky.
"When the bloodlust comes out, we will all—"
Ding! Ding! Ding!
[First Level: Let there be Bloodlust]
[Mission: Try to survive if you can]
A new set of notifications materialized before them.
And then—
The air shifted.
An aura—dense, suffocating, and violent—flooded the entire kingdom.
Everyone felt it.
The sheer weight of bloodlust.
"Fuck! What the hell is this?!"
"Ahhh! Is this a curse?!"
Their complaints rose once more but were swiftly swallowed by what came next.
The sky darkened further.
And then it rained.
But these weren't raindrops.
They were massive balls of fire.
Scorching. Merciless.
Meteorites plummeted from the heavens, coating the sky in a furious crimson.
Redrics' jaw slackened.
This was beyond his comprehension.
This was something else entirely.
For the first time, even the high-ranked exorcist felt true fear.
Screams erupted once more.
"RUNNNNNN!"
Asher screamed, tightening his grip on Fey's wrist as they sprinted toward the building's walls.
But it was too late.
The first fireball struck.
A deafening explosion followed, tearing the ground apart.
Flames surged outward, consuming everything in their wake.
A second. A third.
Each impact sent bodies flying. Some were crushed instantly, reduced to nothing but puddles of blood. Others, caught in the raging inferno, let out shrieks of agony as fire consumed their flesh.
The Oramon monastery had turned into hell.
Towering flames.
Ash in the air.
Chaos.
The nightmare had begun.
"Arrrgh! Fuck! It's starting!"
Asher coughed up blood as he struggled to his feet.
His body was battered. Burn marks and deep cuts littered his skin, his clothes singed and torn. But compared to those crushed beneath the meteors, he was still standing.
Beyond the walls, more screams echoed.
The kingdom was on its knees from this single attack.
Fey stumbled beside him, clutching his gut in pain.
"Is that it? This great attack—"
But before he could finish, Asher's eyes silenced him.
There was something in them—something Fey had never seen before.
And then, Asher muttered under his breath.
"We should have run while we had the chance."
His voice trembled slightly.
For the first time—
Fey heard something in Asher's tone that had never been there before.
Fear.
***Author's note***
Please if you are liking the story, gift me, and send some golden tickets, it's for WSA I'm gonna need all the support I can get. Thank you for reading.