The room was heavy with tension as the shaking of the cursed artifact subsided, leaving only the sound of Azick’s ragged breathing. He sat back on his bed, running a gloved hand through his now-disheveled dirty blond hair. His eyes, though weary, held a sharp intensity as he finally looked up at Belial. For a moment, neither spoke, but the air between them crackled with unspoken questions.

Belial’s gaze flicked to the black box, now still on the floor. He didn’t trust it—cursed artifacts were bad news. But Azick’s current state only heightened his suspicions. It wasn’t just about the artifact; it was about the man himself.

Azick, seeming to gather his thoughts, broke the silence. "What you're holding—what I’ve been carrying—is called a cursed artifact," he said, his voice hoarse but steady. "I received it through a trade at the Black Gate. And now, I’m delivering it to someone who paid a hefty price for it. I couldn’t exactly turn it down."

Belial folded his arms, studying Azick closely. The man's posture, his choice of words—it all suggested there was more he wasn’t saying. "Do you even know who you're delivering this to?" Belial asked, his tone sharp and probing.

Azick hesitated, his eyes flickering toward the window where his luminescent bird had flown earlier. "No," he admitted, shaking his head. "We communicate through birds. They send me messages, and I follow their instructions. No names, no direct contact.Thiswas also given these gloves to hold it while it’s in the box."

Belial's mind raced as he considered the situation. The Black Gate? The name didn’t sit well with him. He had heard rumors—whispers of a place where dangerous artifacts, illegal trades, and shadowy dealings took place, far from the eyes of any governing force. If Azick had connections there, it meant this man was far deeper into trouble than he let on.

And now we’re involved, Belial thought, his mood darkening.

He eyed the black box again, considering the weight of the situation. The quest board had listed this as a simple D-rank mission, but now, with the cursed artifact and Azick’s vague explanations, it felt more like a C-rank, or even higher. There was no telling what dangers lay ahead.

The corners of Belial’s lips twitched as an idea began to form in his mind. If Azick was withholding information, then it was only fair they adjust their agreement. After all, they were the ones risking their lives.

"Alright, fine," Belial said, his voice casual but firm. "We’ll continue the mission. But because you didn’t mention the full extent of the danger in your request, we're going to need compensation. And depending on what kind of danger we run into along the way, that price will go up."

Azick brows furrows, narrowing his eyes. "That’s… not fair," he said, though there was a hint of uncertainty in his voice.

Belial’s expression hardened. He took a step forward, letting his presence loom over Azick. "What’s not fair is you putting yourself—and us—into more danger than we were expecting," Belial said, his voice low and dangerous. "If you disagree, we’ll cancel the quest right here and report you for possessing an illegal artifact."

Azick flinched at the word illegal, his fingers tightening around the edge of his bed. "You… you wouldn’t."

Belial shrugged nonchalantly, though his sharp eyes never left Azick’s. "Try me. Cursed artifacts are dangerous, and if this thing acts up, it won’t just be you who gets hurt. It’ll be everyone around you. The guild doesn’t take kindly to people who endanger others without full disclosure."

Azick opened his mouth to argue, but closed it quickly. Belial was right. The Phoenix Guild held a strong reputation, and any complaint against him would jeopardize future dealings—not to mention draw unwanted attention to his trade. Azick’s eyes darted to the black box, then back to Belial. He exhaled sharply, clearly weighing his options.

After what felt like a long silence, Azick finally gave in. He let out a defeated sigh, running a hand through his messy hair again. "Alright… alright, fine. I’ll compensate you more. But I can’t pay too much extra upfront. I’ll add a bonus once we deliver the artifact."

Belial nodded, satisfied. He could push for more, but for now, securing an additional reward was enough to keep them on track. "Deal," he said, taking a step back. "But if anything else happens—anything you haven’t told us yet—you’ll be paying even more."

Azick’s eyes flickered with frustration, but he nodded. "Fine. Just… let’s get this over with."

Belial turned toward the door, his mind still working through the layers of the situation. As he reached for the handle, he paused, glancing back at Azick. "One more thing—what exactly does this artifact do? I don’t want any more surprises."

The room was had only one candlelight, the tension hung thick in the air as Belial stood over the cursed artifact. His eyes narrowed, focusing his Hax to maintain a solid barrier of darkness around the black box. He was about to lift the dome when the door creaked open, and Xin walked in, his expression a mix of caution and alarm.

“Don’t touch it directly,” Xin warned, his voice low but firm. “If just a little light caused Azick to go mad, who knows what it could do to you if you come into direct contact with it.”

Belial’s hand hovered just above the dark dome. He gave a short nod, acknowledging Xin’s words. He conjured shadowy hands inside the barrier instead, dark constructs that extended from the swirling void, carefully lifting the box within the dome.

A bead of sweat formed on Belial’s forehead. Creating dark constructs wasn’t new to him, but forming moving, organic-like shapes—hands, fingers—required immense concentration. It was one thing to create a sword or a shield, static objects that held their shape easily. But to mimic the precise movements of hands gripping and holding something so delicate tested his control over his Hax.

Belial slowly unlatched the box with deliberate movements of his shadowy hands. Upon opening the lid, the room was filled with a heavy, suffocating energy. They were engulfed by a feeling of heavy despair, accompanied by soft, eerie murmurs emanating from all directions at once. The temperature fell, causing the air to become heavy and more difficult to inhale.

"What on oasis is that?" Xin whispered to himself while moving back instinctively.

Belial's eyes grew larger in size as he peered into the box. Contained within was a dark skull, with a dull and sleek exterior, but exuding a malevolent force that caused the surrounding air to quiver. Belial experienced a brief moment where his vision became blurry and twisted images of eerie, nightmarish landscapes flashed through his thoughts. His senses were overwhelmed by twisted figures, endless pits of fire, and screams of the damned.

He clenched his jaw, shaking his head to dispel the visions, struggling to remain focused.He couldn’t afford to lose focus, not with something this dangerous in front of him.

Xin glanced at the skull, his face contorting in discomfort. “A black skull?” he asked, struggling to keep his voice steady. The oppressive weight of the artifact’s aura seemed to press down on him, making it hard to breathe. “What is it? What are we dealing with here?”

Belial’s hands trembled, his concentration faltering as the skull seemed to push against his will, almost as if it was trying to escape the darkness he had wrapped it in. “I… I don’t know exactly what it is,” Belial admitted, his voice strained as he fought to keep control over the skull’s eerie power. “But it’s powerful… and dangerous. It’s pushing me… harder than anything I’ve ever felt.”

The whispers grew louder and more consistent. They were unintelligible, but their tone was clear—threatening, malicious. It felt like hundreds of voices, murmuring curses from the depths of some forgotten, malevolent place. Belial’s dark hands shook, their form flickering as he struggled to keep the skull contained.

His vision blurred again, more flashes—this time of battles fought long ago. Demons, swords clashing in infernal realms, rivers of blood, and the shrieking of lost souls. Belial’s heart raced, his pulse pounding in his ears. He felt as if something inside the skull was clawing his mind, trying to break through the barriers of his consciousness.

“Bel!” Xin a voice cut though the ravings,. “Don’t lose focus!”

With a grunt of effort, Belial refocused, the dark hands closing the box and swiftly covering it with a thick, heavy cloth. As soon as the box was sealed again, the oppressive atmosphere lessened, and the whispers faded to a dull murmur. The room still felt tense, but the suffocating weight lifted slightly.

Belial fell back onto the floor, breathing heavily. His entire body ached from the strain of maintaining control over the cursed artifact. He wiped sweat from his brow, his hands still trembling. “There’s no doubt,” he muttered between breaths. “That’s a demon’s skull. A powerful one.”

Xin, who had been standing by the door, took a deep breath, trying to shake off the lingering effects of the artifact’s presence. “A demon’s skull?” he repeated, frowning. “Why would someone have something like that? And more importantly, why would someone *want* it?”

Belial sat up, leaning against the wall as he tried to catch his breath. “I don’t know, but this isn’t something you just find lying around. Whoever Azick is dealing with, they’re playing with forces beyond their control.” He looked at the box warily. “That skull… it has power, ancient power. It was trying to connect with me. I could feel it. It wants to be free..”

Xin crossed his arms, his expression grim. “That’s bad news. If that thing gets loose, we could be looking at a full-blown disaster. And if Azick has no idea what he’s dealing with, he’s just making it worse.”

Belial shook his head. “I think Azick knows more than he’s letting on. He knew enough to keep it in the dark, and he knew the danger of traveling during the day. But he’s holding back.”

“We need to get to the bottom of this,” Xin said, glancing toward the door. “We can’t keep going blind. If we’re walking into more danger than we signed up for, we need to know now.”

Belial nodded, still catching his breath. “Agreed. But for now, we need to make sure that thing stays contained. Whatever we do, we can’t let it see the light of day.”

The two of them sat in silence for a few moments, the weight of the situation settling in. The skull’s malevolent presence had shaken them both, and the danger of what they were transporting had become all too clear.

After a while, Xin spoke again, his voice more resolute. “I’ll keep an eye on Azick. We should stay close to him, make sure he doesn’t do anything reckless.”

Belial stood up, dusting himself off. “Yeah. And if things start going south, we’ll deal with it our way.”

As the two of them prepared to leave the room, the whispers began again, faint and far away, like a distant storm on the horizon. Belial cast one last glance at the box, his jaw clenched as thoughts went through his head.