Fourth Gate of Hell – Gate of Eternal Wailing
A small glowing portal flickered open. Wind howled from its center as Aria stepped out, her long hair fluttering wildly. Behind her, Hulk emerged, towering and silent.
Before them stood a massive stone gate — cracked, ancient, and carved with a serpent coiled tightly around a pole. The moment they arrived, distant cries echoed through the air, a chorus of endless torment.
Aria flinched. "W-What is that sound?"
Hulk stared at the gate. "Welcome to the Fourth Gate of Hell — the Gate of Eternal Wailing."
Her face paled. "You mean... all that screaming... it’s from tortured souls?"
He nodded. "That’s just how it is here."
"Nope!" Aria spun on her heels. "Let’s skip this one. Come on, Hulk. Next gate!"
But Hulk had already stepped back into the portal. "See you later."
"Wait—!" She reached out too late. The gate shimmered... then vanished.
Alone now, Aria stared at the massive gate in front of her. She turned slowly, heart pounding. Just as she moved forward, the gate creaked open with a low, dreadful groan.
Two guards, shirtless with burning whips, stood tall. Their eyes were blank.
"Uhh... hello?" Aria forced a smile. "I was sent by Lord Azreal?"
They looked at each other, then one growled, "."
She swallowed and stepped inside. The gates slammed shut behind her.
Royal Palace – Throne Room
Azreal sat on his obsidian throne, one leg crossed over the other. Hulk knelt before him.
"My Lord, Lady Aria has entered the Fourth Gate."
Azreal gave a small nod. "Good."
Hulk stepped forward, hands behind his back. "About what she found in the Fifth Gate... Xaldric was trying to create artificial Infernals."
Azreal’s expression darkened. "Yes, but I doubt it has anything to do with Y’tharion’s mark. So far, all Infernals have only evolved naturally. Creating them artificially... it doesn’t fit."
"Then maybe Xaldric’s working with someone else?" Hulk asked.
"Possibly," Azreal replied. "Stay cautious. Check in with Orvath. See if he’s found anything new."
"Yes, my Lord." Hulk vanished into black smoke.
Chamber of Scarlet Flames
Laisa lay sprawled across silk sheets, fanning herself, visibly annoyed.
"Tch... Dragos. Who knew he’d grow a soft spot for Aria? Seduced, huh? Hah, way to go, little temptress." She smirked. "Well, she’s heading to the Fourth Gate now. But Selmora... she’s a woman. That trick won’t work on her."
She let out a cruel laugh. "This time, she’s done for."
The cries were louder now. Aria winced, covering her ears.
"You’ll get used to it," one of the guards said.
"I hope so," she muttered, forcing a smile. Nᴇw novel chapters are publɪshed on 𝗻𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗹·𝗳𝗶𝗿𝗲·𝗻𝗲𝘁
As they walked through the eerie terrain, green flames burned quietly along the sides. The air was thick with heat but not unbearable. Aria looked up at a towering black pole. Around it coiled a giant snake engulfed in glowing green fire.
"No lava, huh?" she said to herself. "Just flames and screams. Could be worse."
Eventually, they reached a huge door. It creaked open by itself.
"What now...?" Aria stepped in.
Her breath caught in her throat.
Souls—half-naked and upside down—were tied to poles. Their skin charred, their mouths open in silent agony.
In front of them stood Selmora.
She wore a black robe that revealed one leg, her long emerald hair flowing like fire. In her hand, a whip of green flames cracked through the air. She struck a soul, hard.
"Scream for me..." she whispered with a serpent’s tongue, licking the soul’s face slowly, her forked tongue trailing up to its ear.
Selmora paused, turning her gaze toward her.
Blood splattered across Aria’s face. She gasped.
One of the guards dropped—headless. His body collapsed with a heavy thud.
The severed head rolled to Aria’s feet.
She screamed again—and collapsed.
Somewhere Inside the Gate
"Aria! Aria! Wake up!"
Her eyes fluttered open. Arian hovered above her, glowing faintly.
"W-What... what happened?" she groaned.
"You passed out," Arian replied calmly.
Aria shot up. "She killed him. She really killed him—just like that."
"That’s just how Selmora is. You’ll have to get used to it... or get stronger. Either way, we have to keep moving."
Aria stood, dizzy. Her eyes scanned the walls—everywhere were paintings of the coiled snake.
"This place gives me the creeps," she muttered.
"It does look like the Fifth Gate," Arian said.
A new guard entered and knelt. "Lady Aria. You’re awake."
"Uhh, yeah. No need to kneel... really."
He stood. "Lady Selmora has requested your presence."
Aria followed nervously, whispering to herself, "What if she beheads me next? What if she mounts my head on one of those poles...?"
"Seriously?" Arian’s voice echoed in her head. "You’re in hell."
"My faith doesn’t waver!" she declared dramatically. "Someday, my Gate of Paradise will open!"
Arian sighed. "Why does Azreal indulge this fantasy of yours..."
They stopped at a large door. Etched on it: a massive flaming snake.
The guard bowed. "Welcome to the Hall of the Verdant Inferno."
Aria blinked. "Please tell me that snake can’t talk."
The guard pushed the door open.
Fifth Gate of Hell – Gate of the Unholy Pyre
Dragos sat coldly on his throne.
Drakos spoke gently, "My Lord... you’ve been quiet. Do you miss Lady Aria?"
"Absurd," Dragos snapped. "Why would I miss her?"
"But... you gave her the Dragon Medal."
Dragos narrowed his eyes. "She was my student. She passed my trials. She earned it."
"I see. So the sinful girl was your first student."
Before Dragos could respond, a guard entered. "My Lord, the Women’s Committee has arrived."
"Let them in," Dragos said.
Five women entered, dressed elegantly, their presence commanding. They bowed.
"Good day, Lord Dragos," Saryndra greeted.
He nodded. "What brings you here?"
"We only came to ask of Aria," Elovienne said. "You know... our hero."
Dragos twitched. He leaned in. "Since when is she their hero?"
Drakos whispered, "She did catch Xaldric. She’s become a symbol of hope... especially for the women and children."
Dragos scowled. "And no one thought to inform me?"
"My Lord, please. Listen."
He sighed, then straightened. "Aria... is currently in the Fourth Gate. Continuing her training."
"Oh, how noble!" Elovienne exclaimed. "She’s saving even more people!"
"Yes, yes," Nyxelle added. "She should be remembered!"
Vaelira and Zephyra nodded in agreement. "Isn’t that right, Lord Dragos?"
Veins bulged on Dragos’ temple. His heat surged.
Zephyra leaned in. "My Lord... you’re not jealous, are you?"
"Me? Jealous?" Dragos cracked the floor beneath his foot.
Drakos whispered, "My Lord... calm down. You’re literally steaming."
Dragos inhaled deeply. The heat vanished.
"You may hold a memorial in her honor," he said smoothly.
The women beamed. "Thank you, Lord Dragos!"
They exited gracefully.
Drakos turned to leave.
"Where are you going?" Dragos asked.
"To help with the memorial, of course."
"You serve me, not her."
"Always, Lord Dragos. Always."
Back in the Fourth Gate
Aria entered the hall.
Guards were sprawled on the ground, face-down, silent. Lined up like rugs.
"What in the hell... is wrong with this gate?"