The Devil's Warrior Queen
Chapter 328: Vessel Of Darkness

Chapter 328: Vessel Of Darkness

"What did you do to her? She feels..." Rama trailed off, trying to find the right terms to fill in the blank.

"There’s something dark around her, is this right?" She added as she shook her head while rising to her feet.

Draco, crossing his arms over his chest, as he tilted his head to Zamiel with a raised eyebrow.

Rama’s eyes squinted at the both of them as she sensed that they were keeping something from her knowledge, the fishy smell in the air was perceivable as they exchanged knowing glances.

"What did you do to her? It doesn’t feel right somehow, tell me the truth." She demanded as she scrutinized them with a fierce gaze.

With fire in her eyes, she stood defiantly before the two menacing demons. The air was thick with an ominous energy as she scrutinized them, sensing that they harbored a dark truth that had been kept from her for far too long.

Rama’s determined gaze cut through the darkness, her sharp eyes gleaming with an unyielding resolve.

The demons, towering over her, felt a tremor of unease as her presence demanded answers. The flickering torchlight danced on the walls, casting eerie shadows that accentuated the tension in the dimly lit chamber.

A defiant wind whispered through the cavernous space, ruffling Rama’s gown as she stepped forward, her shoes echoing against the cold stone floor. With a voice as steady as a blade, she addressed the demons, her words cutting through the silence like a sword slicing through the air.

"Enough games," Rama declared, her tone unwavering. "I sense deception, shadows cloaking the truth. What do you hide from me?"

Draco, his handsome features twisted into malevolent grins, exchanged furtive glances with Zamiel. Their eyes, like pools of darkness, betrayed a silent acknowledgment of their guilt. Rama’s intuition heightened, sensing the deceit that clung to them like a foul odor.

"Speak," she commanded, her voice echoing with authority. "I demand the truth that has been concealed from me. I will not be kept in ignorance any longer."

The demons, however, remained stoic, their lips sealed as if bound by some ancient oath. Rama’s frustration grew, but her defiance burned brighter, a flame within her chest that refused to be extinguished. She circled the demons, her eyes never leaving theirs, searching for any sign, any flicker of vulnerability.

As she moved, the torchlight cast shifting patterns across the cavern walls, creating an ethereal dance of light and shadow. Rama’s silhouette danced with the flames, a silhouette of determination against the backdrop of mystery and deception.

"Why the silence?" Rama pressed, her voice now a low growl. "What do you fear in revealing the truth? Is it the darkness that binds your tongues, or is there a more sinister force at play?"

The both of them, though formidable in stature, faltered under Rama’s relentless gaze. It was as if she held the power to unravel the very fabric of their secrets. Yet, their defiance matched hers, and they remained steadfast in their refusal to divulge the forbidden knowledge.

With a sudden burst of frustration, Rama unsheathed a sword from the pairs hung on the wall, its blade gleaming in the dim light. The metallic sound rang through the chamber, a proclamation of her readiness to confront whatever lay hidden in the shadows.

"Spill the truth," Rama demanded, her sword pointing accusingly at the demons. "Or face the consequences of your silence."

Draco, undeterred, chuckled in a sinister chorus while Zamiel merely gave her a blank look. Shadows danced across their faces, revealing nothing but a wicked amusement at Rama’s defiance.

Yet, she stood undeterred, her sword held high up underneath Zamiel’s chin, a symbol of her unwavering quest for the truth.

As the standoff persisted, the tension in the chamber reached a palpable climax. Rama’s eyes blazed with an unquenchable fire, her spirit unyielding against the demons’ malevolence. The torches flickered, casting long shadows that seemed to whisper ancient secrets.

Jn a final act of defiance, Rama let out a primal scream, the sound reverberating through the cavern.

Both Draco and even Zamiel flinched, momentarily caught off guard by the sheer intensity of her will. It was a declaration of her refusal to be silenced, an assertion of her right to uncover the mysteries

"I’m so sick of this silence! What did you both do to her!" Rama let out a frustrated shrill as she shoved the blade away.

"Well, it was entertaining to watch you in that phase, but Zamiel will gladly now tell you what he did to her, rather than letting her die peacefully." Draco mentioned, his baritone voice echoing softly through the crypt.

Rama’s eyes blazed with fury as she heard Draco speak. Marching up to him, she gave him a hard kick to the knee, but despite using all her energy, he didn’t flinch, rather he chuckled in amusement.

"Why didn’t you speak up earlier?!" She growled as she eyed him viciously before averting her gaze to Zamiel who was rather like a statue with that emotionless facade.

"You may speak now, he’s not holding you back any longer." She remarked, but he was still indifferent to her.

"There’s nothing to say, as I said earlier, I’m using a vessel to try resurrecting her." Zamiel noted with a flat tone.

Her brows twisted in displeasure "What kind of vessel is it? It feels like a vessel of darkness to me." She pointed out her thoughts blatantly.

"It depends on how you wield it, but there’s nothing to worry about, her angelic essence will shield her from it, and she won’t be a threat in any way to anyone." Zamiel said, unfazed by her judging stare.

"Is this even right? It doesn’t feel right." Rama muttered under her breath, torn between the feeling of disarray and hopefulness.

She pondered on the choice Zamiel had made, what if whatever he did to her failed to work or even worse, caused harm to her? What if she woke up to become an entirely different person from before?

An air of quiet desperation as Rama’s worried gaze fixated on the frail form before her.

The unconscious girl, seemingly peaceful in her slumber, was unwittingly serving as a vessel for dark entities seeking to defy the boundaries between life and death. Rama could feel the weight of responsibility pressing down on her shoulders, a heavy burden born of a desperate attempt to resurrect a cherished, significant soul in her life, but was it at the cost of releasing dark entities into the world?

The room was charged with an eerie stillness as Rama contemplated the implications of the daring plan.

Her keen eyes, usually filled with determination, now betrayed a hint of uncertainty. The girl’s chest rose and fell in rhythmic breaths, oblivious to the impending danger that lurked beneath the surface.

Rama’s mind swirled with a storm of thoughts, each one a lightning bolt of concern. She feared the repercussions of meddling with forces beyond mortal comprehension. The candles cast elongated shadows on the walls, mimicking the uncertainty that clouded Rama’s judgment.

As she watched over the unconscious girl, Rama sensed the ominous aura emanating from the girl’s prone form. It was a perceptible darkness, an otherworldly essence that seemed to seep from the very pores of the girl’s skin. The air itself felt heavy with the weight of impending peril.

A furrow etched itself onto Rama’s brow as she struggled to reconcile her desire to bring the girl back to life with the unsettling feeling that gnawed at the edges of her consciousness. She paced the room, the soft rustling of her gown echoing the restlessness within her soul.

"We cannot ignore the darkness that clings to her," Rama muttered to herself more than she was to the demons, her voice a whisper in the somber chamber. "What if this plan goes awry? What if we unleash something far more sinister than we intended?"

The flickering candles cast shadows that danced along the walls, mirroring the uncertainty that loomed over Rama’s every step.

She approached the unconscious girl, her fingers gently tracing the contours of a face frozen in slumber. The vulnerability of the girl, contrasting against the impending danger, tugged at Rama’s heart.

A heavy sigh escaped Rama’s lips as she pondered the possibilities. The room, bathed in the muted glow of candlelight, seemed to hold its breath, as if aware of the precarious nature of the undertaking. Rama’s intuition, a guiding compass in times of peril, whispered warnings that resonated in the stillness.

"What if she wakes up changed, tainted by the very darkness we sought to defy?" Rama voiced her fears aloud, her words echoing in the chamber. The answer, elusive and shrouded in uncertainty, lingered in the air like an unspoken truth.

"If that happens, we’ll have to get rid of her immediately." Draco spoke out aloud, making her head whip back to face him to see his serious face.

Biting her lips, she couldn’t oppose to his rational response, so she sighed despairingly before returning her gaze on the girl.

The unconscious girl, caught in the throes of an otherworldly slumber, remained oblivious to the deliberations taking place in the waking world. Rama, however, could not shake the feeling that the balance between life and death hung on a delicate thread, ready to unravel with the slightest misstep.

"Malika.." She muttered softly to herself as a sense of deja vu masked her appearance. Her name rolling off her lips was vaguely familiar, it pricked her subconsciousness to awaken from the deep slumbers of obliviousness.