Chapter 179: Mythologies are True!
Thud!
Leo blinked in surprise... the door wasn’t locked at all?
He frowned deeply before slowly stepping inside the house with extreme caution. The air inside was heavy, and the rooms were darker than expected.
That could only mean one thing—nobody was here.
But then... what about the flash of light he saw earlier?
There must be someone here...
Right?
He walked carefully, making not a sound, each step measured like a predator on the hunt.
He walked past the living room as he intended to find the source of the light first... He, and slowly moved toward the staircase, where he had seen the flicker of light.
He walked up the stairs... At the top, he found himself facing five rooms lined up in the corridor.
He first reached for the handle of the first room and turned it slowly... but no, it was locked.
He frowned before moving to another door... and that too was locked.
The third one...
Thud!
It opened.
Leo gulped, calming his racing heart before stepping inside.
The room was dark and empty. There was nothing here—no bed, no furniture, not even a single piece of cloth to hint at life.
Leo frowned. He walked toward the window and pushed it slightly open. From there, he could see the outside—the very gate where he had stood earlier before leaping over the wall.
This must have been the window where the flash of light had appeared.
Leo frowned deeper, "I am sure I saw the light... or... was it just my confusion?" he whispered to himself.
Still unsettled, he walked back and checked the other rooms, but each one was locked tight.
Leaving only that single room unlocked... which could only mean one thing—someone really had used this room.
But who could it be?
Leo took his phone and activated the light just to be sure.
Since the room was dark, his flash swung to the window first, as if he wanted to make certain it would be visible from this position.
Yup... the flash definitely came from this room. While he stared at the window, his nerves tight, something stirred behind him, moving with the dark like a ripple in black water.
Instantly, he flashed the light back!
Leo’s breath halted as his beam cut through the shadows... and revealed nothing.
Empty corners, blank walls.
He gulped and forced a shaky smile. "Hah... ha... I guess I am being paranoid about everything now," he muttered with a soft, forced sigh.
His light flickered to the side and caught the switches.
He walked over, boots crunching faintly on the floor, and turned it on. The light filled the room in a single flood, bleaching out the corners, showing everything at once.
Leo sighed, seeing nothing at all. He turned off the switch and walked out of the room, the beam of his phone trembling slightly in his grip.
"Then what was it?" he muttered in confusion. He was sure he had seen the flash of light.
Lost in thought, he walked down the stairs, intending to leave this place. It wasn’t like he was going to steal something here... this was his fucking girlfriend’s house!
The last thing he wanted was to be labelled a thief in his own girlfriend’s house.
He had already suffered enough in the previous place!
Anyway, just as he was getting out of the house, passing the living room, the corner of his eye caught something in the darkness.
Something moving.
Leo flinched, nearly losing grip of his phone. He immediately pointed his light there. The pale beam slashed across the living room... and showed nothing.
A bead of sweat formed on his forehead, trailing down his temple. His chest rose sharply as he forced his voice steady.
"I know someone is there... You better show yourself," he muttered with a cold tone.
His eyes narrowed as he scanned the corners, his stance tightening with the tension of a man ready to fight.
His chest bulged slightly, as if he was ready for any moment. As he closed in on the living room, his light swept from one corner to the other, flashing across the ceiling, the furniture, the walls.
Finally, his eyes landed on the switches, and he turned them on.
Flick.
The light flickered, humming faintly, and Leo saw... nobody.
Leo sighed, shaking his head, but his grip on the phone did not loosen... Just about to turn off the light when his gaze suddenly froze on the table.
Books...?
Leo frowned as they caught his attention. The pages were flipped open, and the images etched onto the parchment were disturbingly familiar, almost identical to what he had seen last night.
"Camazotz, Nergal... Caelindra?" he muttered, his voice low, almost reverent, as his eyes locked onto the figures etched in fading lines of black and white.
Leo frowned deeper as he stared at the books scattered across the table.
"Was Valra doing research on them?" he muttered as he softly sat down on the sofa, picking up the book that held the image of Camazotz.
"Mayan mythology," he murmured, brushing a layer of dust from the cover before his eyes returned to the dark illustration of Camazotz.
He read slowly...
Camazotz was no underworld ruler.
He was the night hunter, the bat god born of shadows—an executioner tied to sudden death, sacrifice, and blood. In the myths, he stood as one of the guardians of Xibalba, the Mayan underworld, waiting for intruders with a stillness more terrifying than any roar. His fangs were sharp enough to tear a head clean off in a single strike.
That single act made him forever linked to beheadings and ritual offerings.
But death was not his only gift. He ruled over darkness and disease. He watched his prey from above, hunting, teasing, playing with it until fear itself did the killing.
His curse was not simply the blade or the claw... it was terror itself, woven into the marrow of those who dared look upon him.
His very presence was primal, bloody, and... FEAR.
Camazotz’s weapon was his body:
Wings, slicing like obsidian blades.
Claws and fangs, shredding flesh with ease.
A shriek from his throat—loud enough to tear a city apart in seconds.
Yet even a god of night had a curse. Camazotz could only thrive in fear and shadow. Against the sun, against holy fire, his strength bled away until nothing remained but a trembling shadow.
That was who he was.... the Bat God of Death, Night, and Sacrifice.
Leo gasped as he stared at the picture of Camazotz. Even though he looked different now, this figure was almost similar to the one he remembered.
Almost the same... dangerous and wicked.
He gulped, the dryness in his throat making the sound loud in the silence. "S-So that’s who he was... wait... a myth was true," he muttered in a pale tone before moving to another book.
"Mesopotamian mythology..." he murmured, turning the page. The name etched across the top felt heavier than the paper itself.
Nergal.
His eyes moved carefully over each line, as if the words themselves carried heat enough to burn.
"Nergal... god of war, plague, and fire. His presence alone scorched fields, withered crops, and spread pestilence across armies. On the battlefield, he was destruction given form."
The description sharpened in his mind’s eye. He almost saw it: a towering figure striding through clouds of smoke, a spiked mace in hand, every swing splintering men and cities alike, as though war itself had been granted flesh.
But the page wasn’t finished.
"Through his union with Ereshkigal, Queen of the Underworld, Nergal became more than a war-god. He became a king of the dead. Not only destroyer of life, but ruler over those taken by it."
His fingers tightened on the book’s edge.
Weapon:
Spiked Mace / Sphere flail on chains.
Flames that were born with him.
Weakness...
Reckless fury...
He was feared not only by his enemies but by his own people. Blind wrath made him unstoppable... but also unbound.
Leo swallowed hard, his throat tight, almost choking on the air. His legs trembled, his palms sweating like bullets as he held the fragile book.
By the looks of it, the book seemed very old... its pages brittle, its leather faded... And yet these things—these terrifying details—were already recorded long ago.
It was horrifying to know these were not myths at all... but instead real, exactly as described.
Leo’s hand slowly set the book down. Then... finally, he reached for his Pride.
"...Arthurian mythology," he murmured, his eyes catching the faded title before drifting downward to the page.
The sketch of a crowned figure holding a blade seemed to shimmer faintly in the dim light, almost alive.
"Arthur Pendragon..." he whispered, frowning as confusion stirred.
The figure drawn was a man instead of a woman.
Leo was sure—his Pride was a woman. And what’s more... the name itself was wrong.
"Arthur? Was it not Caelindra?" Leo’s face twisted with confusion, just as he was about to read the description when—
Thud!
A door opening sound echoed in the living room.
Leo’s face instantly turned pale!!
’Shit!’