Transmigrated into the Sanctuary!?

Chapter 2. Ritual

[Bood... blood is the... key... Blood... Blood is the key!](Monk)

He yelled with every bit of strength he had left, even turning around to alert his fighting companions. However, they did seem a bit too preoccupied to hear him properly, through the sounds of steel hitting flesh and roars of these small demonlings attacking them.

[What!?](Rogue)

[I need two of you, NOW!](Monk)

Every slight distraction could prove fatal when besieged by such fierce creatures. Yet, the minor lapse in attention, which was almost punished by one of these beasts, was fortunately met by the sword of the Warrior, giving it only steel to impale itself into.

[Go! I'll hold them. GO!](Warrior)

Grabbing the Rogue's torch on his left and the sword on his right, the Warrior was a veritable whirlwind of death on the small corridor, blocking any monster's attempt at rushing forth and chasing after his companions.

Even with that being the case, the situation didn't look very promising in Michael's eyes. There seemed to be an unlimited supply of these fuckers, which, while weak, didn't appear to fear death and kept throwing themselves at this formidable fighter while hoping to drown him with numbers.

In the meantime, the Rogue and the Tank reached the Monk, who breathlessly tried to explain what they needed to do.

[So... it says 'the blood of the willing goes'...](Monk)

Yet that seemed to draw a disdainful look and a grunt from the Tank, who just slammed his right hand into the obviously hand-shaped carving on the floor.

[You've gotta be kidding me!](Rogue)

While complaining, the Rogue did precisely as the Tank did, prompting the Monk to follow in their footsteps. Or rather... handprints? By now, Michael had taken the approach of viewing a movie, albeit a fantasy/horror flick, judging by what seemed to be liters of blood flowing out of these three people's hands during their sacrifice.

While muttering 'unscientific,' he watched three small rivers of blood flowing from the three people down into the groves and into these carved aqueducts that led towards the middle of the diagram.

There stood a symbol of a fork... well, rather than a fork, it looked like three tributaries uniting into a big river... though it didn't seem appropriately aligned with the three aqueducts filled with blood.

'What the fuck!?'

Michael almost peed his invisible pants when the blood reached the symbol, as it suddenly reacted to the blood and turned to match the three canals in a practically supernatural manner, furthering the sanguine tribute into the blocked door.

A strong gust of wind followed, almost pushing down the weak Monk and forcing the other two to shield their faces.

[Haha! It worked!](Rogue)

The Rogue was all but jumping in delight as the door sealing the passage was rising, obviously making the Monk's deductions correct.

All three bolted for the opening, yet the Monk stopped when inside, alerted by the loud screech of one of those creatures. He was instantly reminded by the still-fighting Warrior outside.

[We have to help him!](Monk)

Yet he couldn't say much as the Rogue put a hand around his shoulder and pulled him back, restraining his attempt at rushing outside.

[He's dead already!](Rogue)

Then, as the Monk's eye widened, the Warrior fought hard to open a way out of the encircling monsters and rush to the unsealed door.

Yet, a subtle nod from the Tank towards the Rogue was all it took, as an axe found its way into the chains, lifting the door and making it fall back down in its original position.

To his dismay, the Monk struggled out of the Rogue's arms, yet it was too late. He could see the Warrior diving towards the rapidly falling door...

[Nooooooooooooooo!](Monk)

...without any success. Breathless, he almost fell to his knees, but a pat on his shoulder from the Rogue stabilized him before it happened. The disingenuous gesture didn't feel very comforting, as the Monk just watched these two kill the Warrior through their inhuman act.

The Rogue's hand clasped harder on his shoulder in a threatening manner as a whispering voice that seemed even more terrifying than the screeches of the monsters outside the door reached his ears.

[It's a shame he didn't make it... Oh, well! Cheer up! Gold splits up better three ways instead of four.](Rogue)

He pushed the Monk forward, making him grunt in pain. Using their remaining torch to light up the darkness, their eyes were fervently searching for hidden treasures.

[It must be hiding in here somewhere. Read THIS!](Rogue)@@@@

Michael watched as the 'light push' made the weak Monk fly through the air and slam into a pillar, all but painting it red with his blood.

Grunting in pain and curling up like a pretzel, the poor man did his best to stand back up while whimpering. His eyes lurched around the room, glancing at the carvings depicting strange words...

As told, the Monk opened his eyes only to close them back in fear a few seconds later. The Monk was hovering almost a meter above the ground, yet he barely reached the same height as this 'person.'

[Eternal Light protects me! Eternal Light protects me! Eternal Light protects me! Eternal Light protects me! Eternal light...](Monk)

[There is no light here... You came to the darkness for knowledge...](?)

There was a short struggle in the Monk's eyes, but the words spoken by this creepy stranger seemed to burrow into his mind and slowly germinate.

[*deep breath* Yes.](Monk)

Michael was in awe at the masterclass in psychology this tall dude was dishing out. He hasn't yelled, threatened, or hurt them since he appeared.

Well, maybe he hurt them in the beginning. Yet, his calm and soothing voice was almost hypnotic, as the poor Monk seemed entranced with just a few words.

An even gaze that seemed to penetrate the Monk's soul as he opened his lips again.

[And all the knowledge you seek is here... Surrender... Speak the words... Call her home...](?)

The man's soothing voice completely broke whatever mental defenses the poor Monk had left. The conviction in his eyes brought about by faith faltered, and even fear disappeared entirely in seconds.

All that seemed left was a deep thirst for knowledge bordering on madness as he looked at the blood covering his hands.

Taking a deep breath, he threw aside all burdens of morality, even though knowing his act will damn countless innocents. After all, he did come here seeking answers...

[By three, they come.](Monk)

The Monk started levitating towards the empty third pillar and turned upside-down in the process.

[By three, thy way opens. By the blood of the willing, we call thee... home...](Monk)

With an expansive gesture as if embracing the inevitable, the Monk opened his arms, and blood sprouted similarly as with the other two, headed towards the already built tapestry mid-air.

Tendrils of blood flowing from the Monk met with the tendrils of blood from the Rogue and the Tank on the edges, creating long intertwined ropes.

For a moment, looking at them, Michael saw a flashing image pass through his mind, showing a pair of beautiful red eyes and a face smiling back at him.

Shaking his imaginary head, he was brought back to reality just in time to notice how the three pillars were connected through the blood of the three 'willing' sacrifices.

The previous 'tapestry' now formed a quilt that appeared to be made out of the finest silk instead of blood, all converging above the head of the tall man underneath.

[...Hail, Daughter of Hatred!](Monk)

Michael was sure that he already peed and shat his underwear as a head seemed to push through the silken tapestry.

As the Monk said, it was a summoning ritual, and the blood acted as a gate between this world and whatever plane or hell this 'Daughter of Hatred' was being brought out of.

In the meantime, visions of a person locked in thousands of chains flashed in his mind again, followed by a visage that could only be simultaneously described as beautiful and terrifying. The unspoken hatred in her eyes seemed enough to drown this entire world in the flames of the Abyss a hundred times over.

[...Creator of Sanctuary!](monk)

At this point, Michael's soul almost dissipated in fear when he saw a woman's face pushing through the blood veil, but even more so when he heard the Monk's words.

Sanctuary!? Wasn't that the world of Diablo, the game he preordered before being dragged here? As for the creator of the said world, he remembered two names from the game's lore. One was Inarius, a fallen angel of sorts, while the second was...

[...Hail... Lilith!](monk)

At this point, the tall man had already kneeled on the ground, extending his hand in a gentlemanly way, only for a fairer but blood-red hand to take his, as the creator of the Sanctuary herself was descending mid-air.

Scenes of a blood-red hell where she stood imprisoned flashed continuously in Michael's eyes, no doubt the location where she was previously imprisoned. Taking a deep, calming breath, Michael saw the eyes of the Monk glaze over as death claimed him.

There was no fear or pain in his eyes — only awe.

The world seemed to welcome its creator, as rose petals were continuously falling in the chamber as if wishing to prepare a carpet for her to step on.

Watching the demon gain a more human-like form was mind-boggling. By the time her feet touched the ground, she already seemed no different than an average person... though much taller, with a head full of reversed sheep horns, and the blood tapestry above still connected to her.

Yet... impossibly beautiful.

[Blessed Mother... Save us.](?)

Her eyes turned to the kneeling man for a moment but immediately locked onto a part of the ceiling. Whatever instincts Michael still had were screaming the word 'danger' at him.

Somehow, this demon locked onto him, even though he was invisible to the other four people. Her gaze seemed to have burrowed into his very core, shaking it and tearing apart the very fabric of his being.

He blacked out a second later while watching a smile form on the demon's face.

Remembering the Monk's sigh when giving in to temptation, he couldn't help but wonder: what happens next?