Middle-Earth: Kaen, Lord of Light

The tunnel leading to the depths of the dungeon was damp and shrouded in darkness, its stone walls lit only by flickering torches that barely illuminated the way forward.

A thin mist of black smoke lingered in the air. Gandalf muttered an incantation under his breath, and his staff began to glow, forming a shield of light that kept the dark vapors at bay.

Seeing this, Kaen Eowenríel and Brie both drew their swords, ready for any danger that might appear.

Brie whispered, "This dungeon has three levels. It was built by my ancestors to imprison those who defied the laws of the land."

"The first level holds minor offenders. The second, more serious criminals. And the third… is for those sentenced to death."

"I've never been to the third level. Last time, Brie only locked me in the second."

Descending the stone steps, they soon reached the first level.

Here, several rows of cells lined the corridor. From the shadowy depths came an unsettling creak-creak sound, like something chewing on stone.

Kaen grabbed a torch from the wall. The three of them approached with caution.

When they finally saw what was inside the cells, they gasped. A chill swept down their spines.

"By the Valar… what kind of monsters are these?"

Crouched low on the cell floors were several humanoid creatures, groping blindly across the ground. Their skin was pitch black, covered in scales and small horns. They had no eyes or ears.

The creaking noise had come from their scales scraping against the stone floor.

"These creatures… I have never seen nor heard of their like," Gandalf said gravely. "They do not belong in this world."

Without hesitation, Kaen broke the locks and entered the cell, swiftly dispatching each of the abominations with his sword.

EXP+1

EXP+1

EXP+1

Level: 2 (84/300)

After thoroughly checking that there were no more creatures on the first level, the trio moved deeper underground.

Creak… creak…

On the second level, eerie noises echoed through the oppressive darkness. The black mist here was so dense that even the torchlight could not penetrate it.

Seeing this, Gandalf began to chant again and slammed his staff to the ground.

A surge of white light burst out in all directions, dispersing the dark fog instantly.

Bathed in this holy light, the trio now saw the horrors that filled the cells. Their faces twisted in shock.

Dozens of monsters were locked behind the iron bars.

These ones were larger than those above. In addition to a nose and mouth, they now also had ears—though they still lacked eyes.

Drawn by the sounds of the group, the monsters crawled toward the cell doors, their thick saliva dripping as they let out guttural, rasping growls.

Brie's voice trembled. "What... what are these things? They weren't here before…"

"You should ask your dear brother," Gandalf said darkly. "These... were once ordinary men. Twisted by the powers of darkness. The ones on the first level? Just failed experiments."

Kaen narrowed his eyes, then thrust his sword at one of the creatures.

Clang!

To his surprise, the blade bounced off its armored hide.

"These scales... normal weapons can't harm them," he muttered grimly.

"Try this," Gandalf said, stepping forward.

He chanted an ancient spell and tapped Kaen's sword with his staff.

With a clear chime, the blade gleamed with a soft radiance.

Kaen blinked, then realized—Gandalf had just enchanted his weapon.

Without delay, he lunged at another creature.

This time, the blade slipped through the monster's skull like a knife through butter.

 EXP +5

Impressive. These creatures give as much experience as a troll, Kaen thought, heart racing with excitement.

He got to work clearing the cells.

Since the monsters had no eyes, they relied on sound to detect prey. Kaen simply knocked on the cell doors, luring them forward one by one—and striking them down.

EXP +5

EXP +5

It took some time, but he wiped out all the monsters on the second level.

Kaen glanced at his panel:

Level: 2 (178/300)

"Let's go," he said. "I want to see what's hidden in that final level."

Gandalf nodded, eyes fixed on the path leading downward.

….

The passage to the third level was narrower and more oppressive than any before.

After walking nearly thirty meters, they finally reached a heavy iron door.

From behind it came harrowing, agonized screams.

Brie tensed. "That... that sounds like Brill's voice!"

Kaen and Gandalf exchanged a look, then crept to the door, peering through the cracks.

What they saw made their blood run cold.

Behind the door was a vast chamber. Candles lined the stone walls, casting flickering shadows.

In the center stood a circular altar, covered in dense, intricate runes that glowed with a blood-red hue.

Three figures in black robes stood in a triangle around the altar, arms outstretched as they chanted in a tongue too ancient to understand.

Thick black smoke surged from every direction, gathering at the center of the altar.

There, tied to a wooden cross, was Brie.

He groaned in torment as the black smoke poured into his body—through his nose, his mouth, his eyes, and ears.

Kaen and Brie had no idea what they were witnessing, but the sight filled them with dread.

Beside them, Gandalf's eyes widened in horror. "No… they're summoning the power of Melkor!"

Melkor, whose name meant "He who arises in might," had once been the most powerful of the Valar, second only to Eru Ilúvatar, the One.

But he had fallen from grace, turning to evil. In time, he became Morgoth—the Black Tyrant—the greatest source of darkness in Middle-earth's history.

It was he who had created the dragons, trolls, orcs, and all other foul beasts.

Before the War of Wrath at the end of the First Age, Morgoth poured much of his power into Arda, weakening himself.

After he was defeated by the combined might of the Valar, he was banished to the Void.

And Sauron, the Dark Lord of the current age, had once been no more than Morgoth's servant.

That someone would dare to draw on Morgoth's essence—this was a horror Gandalf could not abide.

As Kaen and Brie stared in stunned silence, Gandalf's body erupted in a blaze of holy light.

With a single wave of his hand, the iron door flew off its hinges.

His voice, like thunder on the mountain, echoed across the chamber:

"Servants of darkness—your end has come!"