Diablo Chronicles Episode 19: Blood Trail in the Blizzard

This is a fan narrative rewritten based on the events of the original game. Character emotions, dialogue, and scene atmospheres have been reconstructed, and it contains major spoilers for the ending.

The Bitter Cold of Nevesk and a Strange Hospitality

The biting blizzard of the Fractured Peaks raged as if to tear the Wanderer's tattered cloak to shreds. Amidst the white despair, the Wanderer forced frozen footsteps forward. Just as their strength was depleted and consciousness began to fade, a faintly flickering torch miraculously appeared in their field of vision beyond the fierce snowstorm.

That light was the sole beacon of salvation leaking from an isolated village called Nevesk. Squeezing out the last of their strength, the Wanderer knocked violently on the tavern's worn wooden door and collapsed. The warm air pouring out as the door opened, along with the murmurs of strangers, caressed their frozen cheeks.

Vani, the village leader, directed the people in an urgent voice and helped the Wanderer to the hearth. The warmth of the blazing log fire slowly thawed the Wanderer's stiffened veins. With a benevolent smile, Vani placed a steaming bowl of stew into their cold hands.

Such generous hospitality shown to a stranger was a rare sight in these barren highlands. To fill their starving stomach, the Wanderer took a large spoonful of the stew, letting their guard down. However, the warmth of the stew filling their belly soon turned into an unsettling chill that spread throughout their entire body.

The Wanderer was seized with panic as numbness began to creep in from the tips of the fingers holding the spoon. Their vision distorted strangely, and the flames of the hearth flared with a crimson light like a demonic dance. The Wanderer tried to stand, but their legs gave out, and they collapsed onto the cold wooden floor.

Through the Wanderer's blurred vision as they lay collapsed, Vani's once-benevolent face could be seen hardening coldly. An inexplicable madness and an alien desire gleamed eerily in her eyes. The villagers who had surrounded them were now looking down at the Wanderer with expressionless faces.

In their hands, they held sharp weapons instead of farming tools, and a thick stench of blood permeated the air. Vani's strange whisper, claiming that the Mother had promised salvation, cut through the heavy air. With even the tip of their tongue paralyzed, the Wanderer could not even scream as they realized the horrific truth.

What had been mixed into the stew was not mere poison, but a medium of dark sorcery that eroded human reason and amplified darkness. The rough hands of the villagers bound the Wanderer's limbs and dragged them toward a dark barn. At the moment the shadow of death loomed, a survival instinct stirred deep within the Wanderer.

Crimson Visions and Awakened Violence

Thrown onto the floor of the barn, which reeked of musty mold and rotting blood, the Wanderer struggled desperately to hold onto consciousness. Suddenly, a bizarre phenomenon occurred as blood-red petals fluttered like a vision, filling their sight. It was the moment Lilith's blood, which had entered their body through the stew, forcibly resonated with their soul.

In the vision, a horrific scene flashed by of Lilith, the demon with pale skin and massive horns, feeding her blood to the people. Her blood stimulated their suppressed greed and violence, corrupting them into brutal cultists. Through the connection, the Wanderer felt acutely where their madness originated.

The moment the vision cleared and reality returned, an unnatural strength surged through their paralyzed muscles, and they thrashed as if to snap the binding ropes. Just before Vani's dagger could pierce their chest, the Wanderer managed to twist their body, avoiding a fatal wound, and launched a counterattack. Drawing a hidden weapon, the Wanderer's eyes gleamed with murderous intent.

The maddened villagers, forgetting even pain, let out beastly shrieks and lunged fiercely at the Wanderer. Barely dodging a swinging blunt weapon, the Wanderer kicked the knee of the first man to rush them, throwing him off balance. A ruthless, bloody struggle for survival unfolded inside the reeking barn.

Screaming in madness that the Mother's blood would set them free, Vani swung her dagger once more. Deflecting the attack and striking back, the Wanderer grit their teeth at the reality of having to cut down the very people who had handed them warm stew. The clashing of weapons filled the barn.

Those intoxicated by Lilith's blood struggled desperately to stay on their feet even after sustaining fatal wounds, but they were no match for the Wanderer's seasoned combat skills. As the breath of the last remaining cultist was cut short, a heavy silence and the thick stench of blood were all that remained in the barn. Gasping for air, the Wanderer let their weapon drop to the floor.

Covered in wounds, the Wanderer stumbled out of the barn that had become a scene of slaughter. The cold blizzard whipped their cheeks once more, but the unpleasant heat left by Lilith's blood flowing in their veins did not easily cool. The Wanderer instinctively knew they were now inextricably entangled in this grand conspiracy.

Standing in the middle of the snow-covered clearing, the Wanderer looked up at the dark sky, trying to shake off the lingering afterimages of the crimson vision. Nevesk's hospitality had been a cruel trap laid by the Mother of Sanctuary, and the Wanderer had become the survivor who broke free from it. Now, the trace of Lilith was etched into their blood like an indelible brand.

The Hermit and the Shadow of Kyovashad

As they gasped for breath upon the blood-stained snow, the silhouette of an old man leaning on a staff emerged from the darkness. Clad in a tattered robe and showing clear signs of exhaustion, the old man looked around the scene of slaughter and clicked his tongue heavily. He introduced himself as Lorath Nahr, one of the last Horadrim.

Examining the state of the corpses strewn on the ground, Lorath immediately recognized that this horrific madness was Lilith's handiwork. He expressed astonishment that the Wanderer had survived after drinking Lilith's blood and fell into deep thought. Lamenting the current state of the Horadrim, who had lost their former glory, Lorath proposed they travel together.

The two made their way through the harsh blizzard toward Kyovashad, the central city of the Fractured Peaks, in pursuit of Lilith's trail. Even while catching his breath, Lorath quietly explained the threat of the great evil that had returned to the world. The Wanderer felt that the connection in their blood had become a beacon of hope for this old scholar.

After days of travel, the oppressive majesty of Kyovashad, a fortress city enclosed by massive stone walls, appeared before them. At the entrance, guards belonging to the Cathedral of Light stood with stern expressions, thoroughly monitoring everyone entering and leaving. Lorath clicked his tongue, showing his displeasure at the guards' overbearing attitude.

A guard handed the Wanderer a small wooden tablet, forcing them to perform a ritual of purification by writing down their greatest sin and burning it in the flames. Receiving the tablet, the Wanderer hesitated for a moment before carving words that recalled the deepest fears and anger in their heart. Once the tablet was tossed into the brazier, the guard reluctantly stepped aside.

Though the interior of Kyovashad looked fortified, the faces of the people were clouded with deep fatigue and unmistakable fear. Inquisitors patrolled the streets, and starving paupers shivered on the cold pavement, begging for alms. Lorath bitterly pointed out the harsh control exerted in the name of the Light.

The Wanderer realized that a different form of oppression, distinct from the madness brought by Lilith's blood, ruled this city. The Cathedral of Light, which had taken the place of the forgotten wisdom of the Horadrim, was paralyzing reason using blind faith as a weapon. Guiding them to a worn-down inn, Lorath said they must search for Lilith's whereabouts from here.

Outside the window, the spire of the great cathedral rose as if to pierce Kyovashad's night sky, boasting its cold majesty amidst the blizzard. Sitting by the hearth to warm their stiff hands, the Wanderer felt the crimson visions they had experienced in Nevesk lingering once more. Caught between Heaven and Hell, the Wanderer was being sucked into a massive vortex.

The Cathedral of Light and Blind Faith

The next morning, the Wanderer made their way to the plaza of the Cathedral of Light, situated at the heart of Kyovashad. Hundreds of faithful and armored knights had gathered in the plaza, cheering enthusiastically at someone's speech. Reverend Mother Prava stood upon the dais, urging them to wage a holy crusade against the encroaching darkness.

Though her voice was filled with conviction, the Wanderer could clearly see the blind madness hidden behind that certainty. Despite the cold and hunger, the people were losing their minds, clinging to the belief that the angel Inarius would save them. Prava cried out that they must execute heretics in accordance with Inarius's will.

Listening to the crowd's enthusiastic cheers, Lorath furrowed his brow, remaining skeptical of Inarius's true intentions. Inarius, the creator of Sanctuary and a faceless being of light, was obsessed only with his own selfish salvation—returning to the High Heavens. He was merely using the Cathedral as pawns to win his war against Hell.

The Wanderer stepped inside the cathedral, bathed in the dazzling light filtering through the massive stained-glass windows. Yet, that light was nothing more than a cold, empty illusion that could not even warm the frozen bodies of the people. Before the altar, armored knights were shouting oaths to face death without fear in the name of Inarius.

At that moment, the essence of Lilith dwelling within the Wanderer's blood clashed violently with the holy light of the cathedral, triggering a subtle headache. The forces of light and darkness, Heaven and Hell, tangled within a single human body, throwing the Wanderer into confusion. The Wanderer stumbled, clutching their forehead, and Lorath quickly led them to a corner out of sight.

"The light here does not protect us; it only blinds us," Lorath whispered in a low, bitter voice. Catching their breath, the Wanderer nodded, instinctively sensing that this massive religious madness could be just as dangerous as Lilith. Blind faith covered the eyes and ears of the people, preventing them from discerning the true enemy.

After leaving the cathedral, the two gathered rumors about a mine in the Yelesna region, where Lilith was suspected to have gone. Ominous information reached their ears that a scholar named Vhenard had succumbed to Lilith's temptation and was digging up ancient knowledge there. Lorath urged that they must hurry to the mine to stop Vhenard and follow the trail.

Firmly gripping their weapon, the Wanderer stepped out of Kyovashad's gates, turning their back on the hymns of the zealots echoing from behind. The cold blizzard still raged fiercely, but the Wanderer's steps were far more resolute than before. On the grand chessboard of angels and demons, the Wanderer had to forge a path solely by their own will.

The Black Lake and the Search for a Lost Mother

Arriving at the mine's entrance, the Wanderer encountered Neyrelle, a young girl desperately searching for her mother, Vhenard. Though Neyrelle's face was filled with fear and despair, she gripped her staff tightly with the sole determination to save her mother. She pleaded for help, saying her mother had been possessed by an unknown voice and had gone down to the Black Lake.

When the Wanderer accepted Neyrelle's request, Vigo, a knight of the Cathedral, approached with his heavy armor clanking. Vigo had been ordered to investigate heretical movements in the mine, but he was utterly terrified by the sinister energy emanating from the underground. After confirming the Wanderer's capabilities, he reluctantly volunteered to act as their guide.

Relying on a single torch, the three descended along a passage that stretched endlessly into the damp, dark depths of the mine. On the walls, instead of marks left by miners, bizarre bloodstains of unknown origin and demonic runes were ominously carved. Every time Neyrelle saw the bloodstains, she trembled, fearing her mother had crossed an irreversible line.

Vigo reacted nervously to the auditory hallucinations echoing in the darkness, muttering prayers to Inarius in an attempt to shake off his anxiety. However, the light of the Cathedral did not reach this deep, damp underground, and his prayers became nothing but hollow echoes. The Wanderer walked ahead, navigating the passages using the energy resonating in their blood as a compass.

The blood-red petals scattered on the ground kindly guided the way toward the Black Lake, as if luring them in. Every time the Wanderer stepped on a petal, the horrific vision they had experienced in Nevesk flashed through their mind, sending a chill down their spine. Lesser demons and monsters crawling out of the darkness blocked their path, but they fell before the Wanderer's weapon.

As the battles repeated, Vigo's mental fortitude reached its limit, and he gasped for breath, pleading to leave this place immediately. However, Neyrelle cut Vigo off with a resolute gaze, declaring that she would never turn back until she found her mother. Watching the tension in silence, the Wanderer shook off their weapon and moved forward once more.

Along with a faint, shimmering blue light from the other side of the cavern, the voice of a woman chanting a bizarre incantation echoed through the cave. Neyrelle's eyes widened in shock, and leaving the Wanderer behind, she ran frantically toward the source of the voice. Seized by an ominous premonition, the Wanderer pursued her and finally reached the shores of the Black Lake.

The surface of the Black Lake was black and still like stagnant blood, and in its center, the ruins of a massive structure loomed in a grotesque shape. On the shore, Neyrelle's mother, Vhenard, with a bloodless face, was incessantly whispering incantations into the empty air. Sensing the dense demonic energy surrounding Vhenard, the Wanderer gripped their weapon, preparing for the worst.

Rathma's End and the Angel's Arrogance

Just as they were about to approach Vhenard, the Wanderer's vision was dyed red, and the essence of Lilith in their blood began to resonate explosively. The real Black Lake vanished, and a bleak vision resembling an ancient temple unfolded vividly before the Wanderer's eyes. There, Inarius, the faceless being of light with wings of light unfurled behind his back, stood confronting Rathma, the first Necromancer. This was not a scene occurring in real-time, but a moment where a tragic event that had already transpired in the past was recalled through the connection of blood.

In an arrogant voice, Inarius was harshly demanding that his son, Rathma, hand over the key to Hell. He was blinded by his selfish goal of conquering Hell to receive the Heavens' forgiveness and return home. Rathma firmly refused his father's demand, warning him that the prophecy would never unfold according to an angel's desires.

Unable to contain his rage, Inarius raised his spear of light and, without hesitation, ruthlessly pierced the chest of his own flesh and blood, Rathma. Watching Rathma collapse while coughing up blood amidst the past echoes carried by the blood petals, the Wanderer gasped at the angel's cruelty. This was not a real-time battle happening before their eyes, but merely witnessing a past tragedy that had already concluded through a spiritual connection. Inarius looked down coldly at his dying son, then turned away irritably and vanished.

In the vision, Lilith appeared at the site and discovered Rathma's cold, lifeless corpse on the floor. She knelt before the death of her beloved son, caressing his pale cheek and letting out a heartbreaking wail. Lilith's grief soon transformed into uncontrollable hatred toward Inarius and a rage to burn the world to ashes.

Finding the key to Hell that Rathma had hidden, Lilith grasped it in her hand and vanished into the darkness, swearing bloody vengeance. The moment the vision ended, the Wanderer stumbled, feeling intense dizziness, and returned to the real Black Lake, gasping for air. This horrific family tragedy engraved in their blood was the beginning of a disaster that would drag all of Sanctuary into ruin.

Having witnessed the horrific filicide committed by the creators, the Wanderer was certain that Inarius could never be humanity's savior. The light of Heaven was arrogant and cruel, while the darkness of Hell seethed with rage and vengeance, ready to create a sea of blood. Wiping away cold sweat, the Wanderer shuddered once more at the power of Lilith's blood that had shown them this vision.

As the Wanderer stared into empty space and stumbled, Neyrelle approached with a worried look, grabbing their arm and asking if they were alright. Shaking their head, the Wanderer forced themselves to focus and glared at Vhenard, who was still chanting her mad incantations on the shore. Though the lingering image of Lilith's rage from the vision weighed heavily on their heart, they had to stop the tragedy before them right now.

"The Mother has opened the way!" Vhenard suddenly turned and screamed, her eyes already dyed pitch black. Completely consumed by Lilith's temptation, Vhenard did not even recognize her daughter's calls, attempting to open the gates of Hell by offering blood. Gripping their weapon anew, the Wanderer leaped in front of the demonic horde to protect Neyrelle.

Crimson Corruption and Neyrelle's Grief

As the dark demonic energy emanating from Vhenard's fingertips struck the Black Lake, the waters swirled, and demons of horrific shapes rose. Shocked by the sight of her mother turning into a monster before her eyes, Neyrelle screamed and collapsed to the ground. Vigo took steps back in terror, but the Wanderer calmly swung their weapon, decapitating the demons.

"Only this knowledge will make you strong, my child," Vhenard chanted with a mad smile, even as she wept tears of blood. She was possessed by the belief that the power promised by Lilith would save her daughter, burning away her very life force. The Wanderer tried to break through the encirclement to reach her, but was held back by the pouring monsters.

In the midst of the fierce battle, the moment the Wanderer's blade pierced the heart of a massive demon, the barrier of magical power surrounding Vhenard shattered. From the backlash, Vhenard screamed and was thrown into the air, before falling helplessly onto the cold ground, coughing up blood. The demons dissolved into ash-colored smoke and dispersed, and a heavy silence settled around the Black Lake.

Dragging her trembling legs, Neyrelle approached her fallen mother, embracing Vhenard's blood-soaked body and weeping bitterly. As the dark demonic energy cleared from Vhenard's eyes, it seemed as though the warm, rational light of her original mother returned for a brief moment. She raised a blood-stained hand to caress Neyrelle's cheek, but it fell limply to the ground.

With a failing voice, she left her final words, "I am sorry... I was wrong," and Vhenard never opened her eyes again. Clinging to her mother's corpse, Neyrelle let out a heartbreaking, sorrowful cry that echoed miserably off the cavern walls. The Wanderer realized that only death remained in the wake of Lilith's passing.

Approaching late to confirm Vhenard's death, Vigo hung his head in guilt, lamenting that even Inarius's mercy could not prevent this tragedy. He seemed to feel disillusionment, realizing how powerless the Cathedral's blind faith was in the face of real-world suffering. Sheathing their weapon, the Wanderer approached Neyrelle and placed a hand on her shoulder to offer a small comfort.

However, Neyrelle pushed the Wanderer's hand away, lifting her tear-stained face to stare resolutely beyond the Black Lake. In a reality where she was not even allowed time to grieve, a cold anger toward Lilith had taken root in the girl's heart. Clutching the book of ancient knowledge to her chest, she vowed to pursue the source of this tragedy to the very end.

Acknowledging Neyrelle's firm resolve, the Wanderer nodded, and the two laid Vhenard's body down on the cold cavern floor. The image of Lilith weeping over Rathma's corpse in the vision and Neyrelle grieving her lost mother overlapped strangely. The Wanderer felt deeply that Lilith's curse was cruelly binding both their fate and Neyrelle's.

The Beginning of the Hunt and the Looming Shadow

After the tragedy of the Black Lake had concluded, Lorath, who had descended deep into the mine after hearing the news late, joined the group with heavy steps. Looking alternately at Vhenard's corpse and the grieving Neyrelle, he sighed in regret for failing to prevent the corruption in time. Approaching Neyrelle, Lorath offered his sincere condolences and vowed that her mother's sacrifice would not be in vain.

The Wanderer detailed to Lorath the contents of the crimson vision regarding Rathma, Inarius, and Lilith that they had experienced at the Black Lake. Lorath's face turned pale the moment he heard the words "prophecy" and "key to Hell," instinctively sensing that the situation was taking a grave turn. If Inarius's arrogance and Lilith's rage clashed, Sanctuary would undoubtedly turn into a horrific hell.

Declaring that he no longer wanted to be involved in this mad fight, Vigo backed away with a terrified face and fled the cavern. Lorath did not blame the fleeing Vigo, bitterly murmuring that running away was a natural instinct in the face of such immense despair. However, the Wanderer and Neyrelle were bound by a fate from which they could never retreat.

"The end of Hell has not yet come; rather, the true disaster has only just begun," Lorath said, staring at the Black Lake. Lilith held the key to Hell, and it was certain that bloody slaughter would spread wherever her footsteps fell. With the Horadrim declined and the Cathedral consumed by madness, the Wanderer was the only one left to stop them.

Wiping away her tears and firmly packing her mother's keepsake spellbook into her bag, Neyrelle stood beside Lorath and the Wanderer, steeling her resolve. Though she was a young and fragile girl, her eyes burned more intensely than those of any warrior. Gripping their blood-stained weapon tightly once more, the Wanderer suppressed the essence of Lilith pulsing in their blood.

Leaving the bleak energy of the Black Lake behind, the three began to retrace their steps up the dark, damp mine passages, pursuing the crimson trail left by Lilith. The path to the surface was arduous, but their steps were filled with a firm sense of purpose rather than hesitation. Leading the way, the Wanderer felt a responsibility to protect Sanctuary between these two colossal entities.

As they emerged from the mine entrance, the blizzard of the Fractured Peaks whipped their cheeks fiercely once more, but the group silently stepped into the storm. Thus began the strange companionship of the Wanderer who drank Lilith's blood, the old Horadrim, and the girl sworn to vengeance. Their next destination lay toward another dark abyss where Lilith's corruption had spread.

Though the vision of blood-red petals flickered once more through the swirling snow, the Wanderer was no longer shaken, their eyes flashing with determination. The seeds of blood sown in Sanctuary by the Mother of Hell were already growing out of control, but the Wanderer's blade was ready to sever their roots. The blood trail continued in the blizzard, advancing toward an endless despair.

Sources Consulted

Official Blizzard Lore: Akarat and the Spirit Realm

Official Blizzard Material: From Vessel of Hatred to Lord of Hatred

Official Blizzard Material: Vessel of Hatred Campaign

Polygon Lore Explanation: Vessel of Hatred Ending

Official Diablo IV Store: Battle.net