An Insult of the Highest Order

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Summary: The Legend of the Legendary Legend allegendly dubbed the Legending of Legends. Also, Cross offends a demonic Nightmare.


"Surely, you jest," bellowed an incensed voice, timbre as dark as a moonless night and more profound than the most bottomless chasm.

The cause of such a harrowing roar stood straight, posture the embodiment of authority and lethality, at the center of a dark-stoned shrine surrounded by a thick, shadowy forest. Vicious goo clung to the figure's bones and occasionally dripped on the stone bricks below. Black and purple robes adorned by silvery, intricate swirling patterns covered their form, seemingly unaffected by the foul ooze. They- or more accurately, he was the keeper of this forgotten shrine.

The Inimical Shrine. Better known as the resting place of Nightmare, a fallen god.

Oozing tendrils swayed behind him, signaling his displeasure. One such appendage struck the temple grounds with a mighty thump that echoed along the room's hallowed walls. The monster crouched before Nightmare flinched and shrunk back ever-so-slightly, jostling the offering they held out for him. An offer the god sneered at.

He emitted a low growl and stated, "You are serious, are you not? This is your offering to me. "

Cross - the warrior proclaimed his name prior to Nightmare's summoning - giving a nervous chuckle and slight nod, shifting the white fur pelts lining his leather armor.

Nightmare eyed him, thoroughly appalled and outraged by the pure audacity of the mortal in front of him. A snarl twisted on his face. "You summon me - a greater arche-demon of nature and negativity, the Nightmare who haunts the strongest warriors' dreams - and wish to seal our pact with a rotten, moldy stub of a twig."

"Yes?"

"I have never been so insulted by a mere mortal!" He ended the sentence by stomping his foot on the ground.

Making a deep hiss, the oozing skeleton glowered at the obnoxiously monochrome warrior before conceding. "However, it's not like anyone better has shown up in the past thousand years." Cross' expression brightened at the words. Nightmare couldn't help but feel his rising hope- disgusting positivity. "And, even with your pathetic 'offering,' I will be unbound from my current resting place and able to traverse the lands once more, capable of invoking terror and misery in the foolish souls that dare to cross my path."

Cross beamed at the god, not minding the ominous implications in the slightest. "So, you'll form a pact with me?"

"Indeed." Nightmare then lit a hand with deep cyan magic and reached for the wretched twig. "Fortunately for you, I am that desperate."

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