Cursed System-Chapter 135: Hall

A moment later, my body was unceremoniously hurled onto something solid and unforgiving, and the impact sent a violent shockwave straight through my skull. The thick helmet slammed against the hard ground with a deafening clang, and a sharp, blinding pain exploded inside my head as if my brain itself had cracked against stone. My legs buckled immediately, my knees forced down into an awkward kneeling position, while the helmet encasing my head began to vibrate and shift, as though unseen mechanisms were awakening within it.

For several agonizing seconds, the sound of metal grinding against metal echoed endlessly inside my head, overlapping and reverberating until it felt as if the noise itself was drilling into my thoughts. A suffocating pressure bore down on my skull, growing heavier and heavier, until—slowly, almost deliberately—I felt the thick helmet being lifted off my head inch by inch.

Then, all at once, darkness vanished.

A merciless, blinding light flooded my vision, so overwhelmingly bright that it burned through my eyes and made my vision erupt in white and crimson. I could actually see the red branching structures of my own eye vessels blazing against the light, as if my eyes themselves were being peeled open and exposed. I wanted to scream, or at least shut my eyes, but my body lagged behind my thoughts, responding far too slowly.

Gradually—painfully—my vision began to adapt. I instinctively activated my demon meditation technique alongside its sub-technique, forcing my regenerative ability to kick into motion, desperately trying to stabilize my battered senses and adjust to whatever hellish environment I had been thrown into.

[Regeneration has been Activated]

[Host in a state of healing] 𝙛𝓻𝒆𝓮𝒘𝙚𝙗𝒏𝙤𝙫𝓮𝒍.𝓬𝒐𝙢

[Host stats have successfully returned to normal]

Almost immediately, I felt it—the invisible shackles that had weighed my body down for so long were gone. With the chains and helmet removed, the suffocating restrictions binding my flesh and mana seemed to dissolve into nothingness. Strength seeped back into my limbs, slow but undeniable, and for the first time in what felt like an eternity, my body felt… lighter. As though a mountain had been lifted off my chest.

A weak sense of relief washed over me, fleeting but real.

Within a few seconds, my eyes managed to focus enough to make out vague shapes and outlines.

Where am I?

The thought barely formed before a vicious headache flared again, sharp pain stabbing through my temples as if my skull was being punished for daring to think.

As my vision cleared further, I realized the scenery before me was nothing like before—this place was entirely different.

Suddenly, icy-cold water splashed over my head without warning. I gasped reflexively, my parched throat burning as I instinctively swallowed some of it, drinking greedily despite myself. The soreness in my throat made even that simple act feel painful.

When my eyes finally adjusted fully, the first thing that greeted me was an eerie crimson glow saturating everything around me. The red light stretched endlessly, illuminating what appeared to be a massive, boundless hall—so vast that my mind struggled to grasp its full scale.

As I forced myself to look closer, I realized the red light wasn't the only thing dominating the hall.

Standing directly in front of me were seven enormous black pillars.

They weren't ordinary pillars—each one was a colossal stone statue, sculpted directly into black armor. They towered over everything, impossibly huge, each standing roughly six hundred feet tall, their sheer presence pressing down on my chest and making me feel laughably small. Their faces were nonexistent—no features, no expressions—only thick black helmets. Where their eyes should have been, there was nothing but a curved, horizontal slit of glowing crimson light.

Three of these titanic statues stood along the left side of the hall, and three mirrored them on the right, arranged like silent giants standing guard. But the most terrifying one stood at the center.

Coiled tightly around the central pillar was a massive black-scaled dragon, nearly a hundred feet tall, its slender body wrapped around the armored statue as if protecting—or restraining—it. Even carved from stone, the dragon radiated an oppressive, suffocating presence.

I swallowed hard and forced myself to look away.

Only then did I notice what lay around me.

Scattered across the floor, near the bases of the pillars, were bodies. Demon children. Some of them I vaguely recognized—those who must have been taken long before me. Their forms were shriveled and withered, as though every last drop of blood, life force, and flesh had been drained from them.

The sight made my stomach twist violently.

It reminded me—far too vividly—of what I had done to Noah.

But there was something wrong. Unlike Noah, there were no bite marks. No torn flesh. No visible wounds on their necks. Some of them weren't even bodies anymore—just skeletal remains collapsed onto the cold floor, long dead and forgotten.

And then I saw him.

Not too far from me, a small child was still alive—barely. He was hyperventilating, his thin chest rising and falling rapidly, his tiny hands clutching onto a black book. No… not clutching. The book looked as though it had fused itself to his hands like a parasite. His shriveled fingers were bleeding, droplets of blood sliding down his skin, only to be absorbed the moment they touched the book.

The blood twisted unnaturally, forming thin, web-like strands that crawled across the air before connecting back into the black book.

My breath hitched.

Every time I stared at that book, something deep inside me recoiled. A primal, instinctive fear surged through my body, and cold sweat broke out across my skin. I sucked in a sharp breath, my hair standing on end as chills raced down my spine and sweat pooled beneath my arms and down my back.

The other children reacted even worse.

Some trembled uncontrollably. Others broke down completely, sobbing and losing control of their bodies in pure terror. The black book could only be described as a blood-sucking demon—something that devoured its owner the moment they touched it.

After witnessing such a horrifying scene, many of the children who had already lost hope seemed to mentally collapse. They could already see their own future reflected in that child—drained dry the instant they came into contact with that demonic book.

As I scanned the hall further, I realized how empty it truly was. Aside from the towering black statues, the scattered skeletons, and a few black-robed figures standing silently behind the pillars like guards, there was nothing else. No decorations. No warmth. Just void, death, and that oppressive red light barely illuminating the vast space.

Then, at the far end of the hall, something else came into view.

A throne.

A massive black throne stood vertically opposite us, looming ominously even from a distance. Its shape was grotesque, jagged, and unsettling. As my eyes adjusted further, I realized it was made of bones and skulls—countless of them. Whether they belonged to demon children or something else disturbingly similar, I couldn't tell, and I wasn't sure I wanted to.

Seated upon the throne was a skeletal silhouette.

White, disheveled hair cascaded down its head, contrasting sharply against the dark red robe draped loosely over its body. Its skin was pale—deathly pale—creating a horrifying contrast against the massive black throne it occupied.

The figure sat completely still.

At first glance, it looked dead.

Yet something about it made my instincts scream otherwise. There was no visible breath. No mana fluctuation. No sign of life whatsoever.

And yet…

Is that thing… alive?