Rise of The Abandoned Husband

Chapter 400 - 400 - Clara's Fateful Relic

I followed Clara through the oppressive darkness of the Huge Pit, amazed at how confidently she navigated the treacherous terrain. The dark energy that had instantly reduced Glenn to bones seemed to part before her like water around a stone.

"How much further?" I whispered, keeping my voice low. Though Soren and his men couldn't hear us now, something about this place demanded silence.

Clara's small hand gripped mine tightly. "Not far now. It's hidden where the shadows are thickest."

I studied her face in the dim light. This strange child had become increasingly enigmatic to me. Her immunity to dark energy, her previous secret visits to this death trap—what other mysteries did she harbor?

"There!" She pointed excitedly toward what appeared to be solid rock.

As we approached, I realized it was an optical illusion. What looked like a wall from a distance was actually the entrance to a narrow passage. Clara ducked inside without hesitation, and I followed, my shoulders barely squeezing through.

"I found it by accident," she explained, her voice echoing slightly in the confined space. "I was hiding from the shadows when I felt something... calling to me."

The passage widened abruptly, opening into a small chamber. At its center stood a simple stone house, so out of place in this underground hell that I stopped in my tracks.

"What is this?" I murmured, more to myself than to Clara.

She beamed with pride. "My secret! No one else knows about it."

The structure was plain and windowless, with a single stone door bearing strange markings I couldn't decipher. They resembled no language I'd encountered in my studies.

Clara approached the door confidently. "Watch this!"

She placed her small palm against the center of the door. Immediately, the markings began to glow with an eerie blue light. The stone door, which must have weighed several hundred pounds, swung inward without a sound.

"How did you do that?" I asked, genuinely impressed.

She shrugged. "I don't know. It only opens for me. I tried to bring a small animal down once to test it, but the door wouldn't budge."

Something cold settled in my stomach. This was no coincidence. The door recognized Clara specifically, which meant...

"After you," she said cheerfully, gesturing me inside.

I stepped through the doorway, my cultivation energy heightened in anticipation of traps. The interior was sparsely furnished—just bare stone walls and floor, with a single object at the far end: a throne.

And on that throne rested a mask.

My blood ran cold. I recognized it instantly—the ghostly face I'd glimpsed during my previous encounters with dark energy. The same face that had appeared during my battle with Corbin Ashworth, flickering at the edge of my vision.

"Isn't it beautiful?" Clara whispered reverently, moving toward the mask.

I caught her arm. "Wait. Don't touch it."

"Why not? I've touched it before."

This revelation stunned me. "You've worn this mask?"

"No," she admitted. "I was too scared to put it on. But I've held it." She looked up at me, her eyes wide with childlike wonder. "Do you know what it is?"

I approached the throne cautiously. The mask was deceptively simple—white porcelain with minimal detailing, except for thin red lines running from the eyes like tears of blood. It radiated power unlike anything I'd encountered before.

"Let me examine it first," I said.

I reached out slowly, expecting resistance. The moment my fingers came within an inch of the mask, an invisible force slammed into my chest. I flew backward, crashing painfully against the far wall.

"Liam!" Clara rushed to my side. "Are you okay?"

I struggled to my feet, wincing. "It seems the mask doesn't like me."

"Let me try." Before I could stop her, Clara approached the throne and picked up the mask effortlessly. She held it out to me. "See? It's fine."

Skeptical but curious, I reached for it again. This time, Clara was holding it, offering it to me. When my fingers touched the edge of the mask, I was thrown back again, even more violently.

"That's... unexpected," I gasped, pulling myself up from the floor. My ribs ached from the impact.

Clara frowned. "Maybe it only likes me?"

"Maybe." I approached more cautiously this time. "Hold it out again, but I won't touch it directly."

She did as instructed. I brought my hand near the mask without making contact. This time, I wasn't repelled, but I could feel an ancient, terrifying power emanating from it. The power felt disturbingly familiar, reminiscent of the darkest energy I'd encountered in my battles. Need character sheets and glossaries? Visit *.

"Clara," I said slowly, "how did you find this place?"

She clutched the mask to her chest. "I told you, the dark energy called to me. I followed it here."

"And the mask... it called to you too?"

She nodded enthusiastically. "It was like it was singing a song only I could hear."

My concern deepened. This was no ordinary artifact. The connection between Clara's "pure dark energy body" and this mask couldn't be coincidental.

"May I try something?" I asked.

"Of course."

I took a deep breath. "Hold the mask out, facing me."

When she complied, I placed my hands on either side of it without touching the surface. Closing my eyes, I extended my spiritual sense toward the mask.

Instantly, I was assaulted by visions—flashes of destruction, cities burning, people screaming. A lone figure stood amid the chaos, faceless except for the porcelain mask, hands dripping with blood.

I jerked back, severing the connection. Cold sweat beaded on my forehead.

"What did you see?" Clara asked eagerly.

I forced a reassuring smile. "Nothing important. Clara, would you let me try to hold the mask?"

She nodded and extended it toward me. This time, when I took it from her hands, the mask didn't repel me. It felt unnaturally cold against my skin, as though it were drawing heat from my body.

"Now what?" she asked.

I weighed the mask in my hands. Despite its appearance, it felt heavier than it should have. "I want to try something."

Before I could reconsider, I raised the mask to my face. The moment it touched my skin, pain like I'd never known ripped through me. It felt as though my very soul was being torn apart. With a hoarse cry, I hurled the mask away.

It clattered to the stone floor, unharmed.

"Liam!" Clara knelt beside me. "Your face is bleeding!"

I touched my cheek; my fingers came away red. Where the mask had made contact, my skin had been scored with shallow cuts in the pattern of its features.

"I don't think it wants me to wear it," I said grimly.

Clara helped me to my feet. "Maybe it chose me," she suggested, her voice carrying an unsettling note of pride.

I gazed at the mask lying innocently on the floor. Everything about this situation screamed danger, yet I couldn't simply leave the artifact here. If Clara was connected to it somehow, separating them might be impossible anyway.

"Clara," I said carefully, "would you be willing to try wearing it?"

Her eyes widened. "Really? You want me to?"

No, my instincts screamed. But we needed answers. "Only if you want to."

She bit her lip, suddenly hesitant. "What if it hurts me too?"

"If anything happens, I'll help you take it off immediately," I promised, though I wasn't certain I could keep that promise.

Clara retrieved the mask from the floor, studying it intently. "It feels warm to me," she murmured. "Like it's alive."

"You don't have to do this," I said, already regretting my suggestion.

She shook her head firmly. "I want to try. It's been calling to me for so long..."

Before I could object further, Clara raised the mask to her face. Unlike my experience, there was no violent rejection. The mask seemed to mold itself to her features, fitting perfectly.

For a moment, nothing happened. Then a blinding light erupted from the mask, so intense I had to shield my eyes. When I could see again, I gasped in shock.

The mask had fused with Clara's skin. I could no longer see where the porcelain ended and her flesh began. Her small body hovered several feet off the ground, surrounded by a dark glow that pulsed like a heartbeat.

Above her, a massive figure seemed to materialize from the shadows—a woman wearing an identical mask, but terrible in her immensity. Though I couldn't see her face, I sensed her looking directly at me, measuring my worth and finding me wanting.

As quickly as the vision appeared, it vanished. Clara floated gently back to the ground. The mask separated from her face, falling into her waiting hands.

"Clara?" I said tentatively. "Are you alright?"

She blinked rapidly, as if waking from a dream. "That was strange," she murmured. "I saw... someone. A woman. She was telling me something important, but I can't remember what."

I placed a protective hand on her shoulder. "Did it hurt you?"

"No. It felt like..." She searched for words. "Like remembering something I forgot a long time ago."

The mask lay quietly in her hands now, appearing ordinary despite the power it had just displayed. I knew with absolute certainty that we were dealing with something far beyond my understanding—perhaps beyond even the understanding of someone like Jackson Harding.

"Clara," I said firmly, "I think you should keep the mask."

"Really?" Her face lit up with excitement.

I nodded, though dread pooled in my stomach. "It clearly has some connection to you. But promise me you'll be careful with it. Don't wear it unless I'm with you."

"I promise!" She clutched the mask to her chest, beaming. "Can I show everyone when we get back?"

"No," I said quickly. "This is our secret, Clara. If others knew about this mask, they would try to take it from you."

She considered this, then nodded solemnly. "Our secret."

As we prepared to leave the stone house, I cast one last look at the empty throne. Something told me we had unleashed a force beyond our control—something ancient and vengeful that had been waiting patiently for Clara.

I watched her cradling the mask lovingly as we made our way back toward the main cavern. She looked so innocent, so ordinary. Yet I couldn't shake the vision of that towering masked figure looming over her, nor the sensation of malevolent power that had flowed through the mask.

Little did anyone know, this quirky girl would later become a terrifying demon that people feared.