The Legend of Kazro

Transcendent

3

Written by D. R. R. Hatch

Copyright © 2025 by D. R. R. Hatch

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

www.drrhatch.com

Table of Contents

Prologue - The Plague Lord

Chapter 1 - Hunting Him Down

Chapter 2 - Been Through Hell

Chapter 3 - A Monster in the Mirror

Chapter 4 - Gods of Life

Chapter 5 - Into the Shadows

Chapter 6 - Unexpected Alliance

Chapter 7 - True Monarch

Chapter 8 - Not a Motorcycle

Chapter 9 - To Let Go

Chapter 10 - Verdant Dominion

Chapter 11 - Fresh Prey

Chapter 12 - Mind Core

Chapter 13 - His Darker Half

Chapter 14 - Finally Home

Chapter 15 - Traitor

Chapter 16 - Crushed

Chapter 17 - Ticking Clock

Chapter 18 - Royalty

Chapter 19 - A Silent Oath

Chapter 20 - Face it Together

Chapter 21 - Bind a Wielder

Chapter 22 - Kneel to Me

Chapter 23 - Two Worlds

Chapter 24 - Cold Blood

Chapter 25 - Profound Dread

Chapter 26 - Puny God

Chapter 27 - Defection

Chapter 28 - Into the Darkness

Chapter 29 - He's Here

Chapter 30 - Cryosa

Chapter 31 - An Old Enemy

Chapter 32 - Broken Oaths

Chapter 33 - Rage Boost

Chapter 34 - Old Times

Chapter 35 - In the Deep

Chapter 36 - Fiery Indignation

Chapter 37 - Shifting Nightmare

Chapter 38 - Void Colossus

Chapter 39 - Don't You Die

Chapter 40 - Bittersweet Ache

Chapter 41 - Web-Shrouded Domain

Chapter 42 - Scarred Souls

Chapter 43 - Father Wants Him

Chapter 44 - Confrontation

Chapter 45 - Clever Little Rats

Chapter 46 - Sparring

Chapter 47 - Last Breath

Chapter 48 - Poethius's Servant

Chapter 49 - Into the Darkness

Chapter 50 - Light for the World

Chapter 51 - Deadly Waltz

Chapter 52 - A Voice in the Deep

Chapter 53 - Vestments of Plague

Chapter 54 - Sunlight Through Ice

Chapter 55 - Betrayal

Chapter 56 - Verdant Rush

Chapter 57 - All Consuming Fire

Chapter 58 - Drained Away

Chapter 59 - Getting Worse

Chapter 60 - More Animal Than Human

Chapter 61 - Wielder of the Night

Chapter 62 - Belly of the Beast

Chapter 63 - Protect This Land

Chapter 64 - Healing Eyes

Chapter 65 - Parasites

Chapter 66 - My People, My Home

Chapter 67 - Down Its Guts

Chapter 68 - Illusions of Reality

Chapter 69 - Achingly Human

Chapter 70 - Released

Chapter 71 - Let Go

Chapter 72 - Finally Free

Chapter 73 - Life Essence

Chapter 74 - Summoning

Chapter 75 - Promise of Doom

Chapter 76 - Guardian of the Divided Kingdoms

Chapter 77 - Death Throes

Chapter 78 - Torment Beyond Imagining

Chapter 79 - Pandora's Box

Prologue - The Plague Lord

As the Plague Lord landed on a tall mound of earth, he brushed frost from his hands, savoring the chill that lingered.

A necklace hung heavy around his neck, a bright green crystal dangling from the chain. He clutched that crystal, trembling, grinning. Power thrummed up his arm, resonating in his chest, expanding through his soul.

Infiltrating the Frostlands himself had been a risky gambit, but the Baroness’s absence had given him the opportunity he needed. She, like most everyone here, feared Vlindakh's liberation. But where the Baroness saw a world-ending threat, he glimpsed opportunity.

And yet, his absence from Gloomswallow came at a cost.

He looked out across the vast bog, with its shallow pools stretching on for miles like a patchwork of murky mirrors. The stagnant water bubbled occasionally, releasing noxious gas that hung in the humid air. And there, in the near distance, was the border they shared with the Blight—and several hundred figures with eyes like deep, dark pits.

Something cold and unsettling crawled up his spine. Not fear, precisely—the Plague Lord feared little—but a gnawing worry that had been festering in the back of his mind for weeks now. The Blight had been creeping on Gloomswallow little by little, inch by inch. It was a silent invasion, persistent as the tide.

Inevitable, like death itself.

Heart pounding, he watched those marching void-eyed souls, noting how the swamp changed in their wake. Wherever they passed, water dried up, leaving cracked, parched earth. The rich, fetid soil blackened and crumbled to dust, all vitality leeched from it in an instant. Plants withered, their stems curling inward like dying fingers. Even the insects—normally abundant and raucous—fled from their presence.

The Plague Lord looked to his far left, where the swamp still thrived in all its putrid glory. Twisted mangroves rose from the muck, their gnarled roots like the legs of massive spiders. Bioluminescent fungi pulsed with sickly light, clustered along rotting logs and hanging from branches like otherworldly fruit. Tendrils of mist curled around everything, carrying the rich scent of decay—the perfume of Gloomswallow. And there, in the distance, a poison green haze shimmered, marking the approach of armored figures—border control, his warriors coming to engage the intruders.

He squeezed his hand reflexively, feeling something hard and warm against his palm. Looking down, he was momentarily startled to see that radiant green crystal clutched in his grip. It pulsed with almost neon glow, casting an eerie light across his gloved fingers.

As he stared at it, a voice whispered directly into his mind, smooth and silky. So anxious?

The Plague Lord's shoulders tensed. Even after all this time, her sudden intrusions caught him off guard.

Why the tense feelings? The goddess's voice continued, sliding through his thoughts like oil on water.

"The Blight," he murmured, not needing to speak aloud but finding comfort in the sound of his own voice. "It advances faster than we can contain."

Ah. A pause, as if she were considering. The reports from your scouts are…concerning.

Images flashed through his mind—shared memories from his goddess. A vast tower rising from the heart of the Blight, a spawning point for the monsters that now threatened his borders. The urge to march on it, to strike at the root, sang in his blood. But he knew the risks all too well.

"In my absence, the Frost Baroness would strike," he said, thinking aloud. "She and her forces would gain an advantage. And the Eldritch King—"

Would creep across your eastern borders, yes, the goddess—Zsithis was her name—finished for him. Besides, you still need to find my final vestment. If you are to be lord of this entire region, if you are to have the power to protect it from the outside threats that will inevitably come…

"I know," he said, a hint of frustration coloring his tone. “But the Blight…”

His gaze drifted out across the swamp, watching as his warriors—shimmering with the same toxic green aura that surrounded him—engaged the pit-eyed creatures at the border. The clash was visible even from this distance—flashes of virescent light against a dull, consuming darkness. His troops fought with commendable ferocity, but for every voidling they fell, two more seemed to materialize from the desiccated earth.

Wind gusted across the bog, tugging at his cloak, ruffling the feathers that lined its hem. His fingerless gloves, adorned with patterns that shifted like living bacteria, glowed faintly, squirming in response to his agitation. His boots, too, radiated with power where they touched earth, sending tiny ripples of energy into the soil.

Three divine vestments, reclaimed from the scattered corners of this realm—the cloak, the gloves, the boots. But he needed the fourth. He needed to be whole.

“What about the boy?” His goddess whispered, her voice tinged with curiosity—something he wasn’t used to.

Either way, his thoughts immediately turned to Kazro—to the reports he'd received, detailing how a Wielder with just two divine vestments had slain Shahar-Sheh-Jab… A feat that should have been impossible.

Hunger bloomed within his gut, an insatiable craving to possess such power, to bend it to his will.

Without conscious thought, he leapt forward, buoyed by the aura surrounding him. He hovered above the swamp, drifting forward on currents of mist, looking past the skirmish and even further toward the Blight. From this vantage, he could see how the landscape transformed—from the teeming life of Gloomswallow to barren wasteland, and then to the stark, forbidding territory of the Blight proper. There, jagged rocks jutted up like the spines of some massive, buried beast. Spires of black stone reached for the sky, their tips disappearing into a haze that shimmered.

That haze was why he no longer sent scouts flying in—none had returned. Whatever lurked within had a taste for anything living that dared cross its threshold. It was a predator in mist form, and even he, with all his power, was not immune to its hunger.

“A boy, a Wielder capable of taking out a titan, will prove a vital asset,” Zsithis whispered, and the Plague Lord nodded, the aura around him shifting, keeping him buoyant as he looked out, an idea taking root.

He already had another captive Wielder—one he'd found not long ago, with incredibly powerful potential…but a mind that was broken. That one he'd leashed. It wouldn't hurt to do the same to Kazro, to put him to use. Two weapons were always better than one, especially when facing threats on multiple fronts.

But something else disturbed him. Something else, niggling at the back of his mind.

Vireth the Herald, and Matron Obaba, had been silent for days—neither had reached out to him, sent word, or contacted him in any way. This was unusual. Worrying, even.

But he’d sent Archlord Tenebris to check things out. Hopefully, he’d get word from that man soon.

Before he could dwell too much on that, his ears perked, catching a familiar hum. He glanced over to see a large dragonfly buzzing on over, carrying a messenger—one of the Spriggans that served him. The short being had brown, wrinkled skin, with orange glowing eyes and foliage puffing out of its head in lieu of hair. Its clothing consisted of overlapping leaves, delicately woven into a semblance of formal attire.

The Spriggan bowed low, its mount’s wings a blur of motion. "Forgive me, my lord," it said in a voice that crackled like dry leaves underfoot, "but I have come to inform you that the Frost Baroness approaches.”

An unnecessary formality. He’d sensed the chill long ago—a sudden drop in temperature that penetrated even the protective aura of his vestments. He turned slowly, calculated, refusing to show haste even in the face of this threat.

Thick, roiling clouds expanded across the horizon, driving toward him like a wall of winter made manifest. Within that pallid mass, a glowing figure, obscured by mist—but he could sense her nonetheless. Her rage was potent, a tangible force that crackled in the air like static before a storm.

The Plague Lord stood his ground, crystal clutched in one hand, power thrumming through his other vestments. She had come in person. Good. He had questions that needed answering, and a score that needed settling.

As the temperature continued to plummet and the first snowflakes began to fall on swamp water that had never known frost, he waited.

Let her come.

This region would soon unite under one lord, and the Baroness would be the first to bow.

Chapter 1 - Hunting Him Down

Vireth peeked from the opening of a cave, looking out across a vast forest of golden trees. Closing his eyes, he tuned in to the surrounding aura, letting his senses expand outward, like ripples in still water. Everything was quiet, almost too quiet, as if the air itself held its breath.

And why wouldn't it? They were a mere mile or two from the Blight, still in the Windwhisper Wilds… Though this stretch of land was so far distant, he wondered if it actually belonged to the Wilds.

He took a deep breath, then huffed out, expanding his aura senses even further, letting them hang suspended in the ether, searching for any disturbances.

The acid-green glow of his skin cast faint shadows on the cave walls. He glanced down, torn clothes revealing glimpses of the chainmail beneath—remnants of the battle that left him in tatters.

Just as he was about to pull back, he picked up on something. A vibration, distant but unmistakable. Like a low hum that resonated not in his ears but in his very bones, making his teeth ache and the hairs on his neck stand rigid. It was the distinctive sensation of another herald's aura—a fellow servant of the Plague Lord.

Not one herald. Two.

The realization hit like a physical blow. Two heralds, their combined presence a dissonant chord that jarred his senses.

He wanted to keep moving—to leave this cave behind. Every instinct screamed at him to press on, to get as far away from here as possible. But with two heralds prowling nearby? He couldn't risk it. Fighting one would be hard enough, but two? Impossible odds, even for him.

And they probably already passed where he'd broken his communication orb, where Obaba had died. They would already be suspicious, already asking questions. They'd accuse him of murdering that old hag—he was certain of it.

His heart slammed against his ribs, each beat a drum signaling impending doom. Cold sweat beaded on his forehead despite the heat his own body generated. Yet, beneath the fear churned a fierce, immovable determination. Let them suspect. Let them hunt him. Let the Plague Lord brand him a criminal.

It changed nothing.

He didn’t serve that filth anymore, and never, in a thousand years, would he serve him again.

Vireth turned away from the cave entrance, moving deeper into the darkness with sure steps. The tunnel narrowed, then widened again, walls glittering with flecks of metal that caught his acidic glow. Like tiny stars embedded in stone, they winked and gleamed—gold to match the forest outside.

As he marched, he breathed in deeply, but seething irritation burned in his gut. The Plague Lord had forbidden the Baroness from joining the fight against Shahar-Sheh-Jab—had actively prevented anyone from intervening. Why? The answer was as obvious as it was infuriating. That idiot of a Wielder only looked out for himself, for his own skin.

If Shahar had succeeded—if he'd released Vlindakh—then everyone in this region would have suffered. Everyone, except those powerful enough to flee, like the Plague Lord himself. The selfishness of it made Vireth’s blood boil.

His thoughts turned to Gaia’s Wielder—or Kazro, as the locals called him. The boy from another world—the one who leapt headfirst into danger, who'd faced down a titan with nothing but borrowed power and raw determination. The hero, who'd had no motive beyond protection, beyond defending those who couldn't defend themselves. A true guardian of his people.

Vireth reached a broader chamber, the ceiling arching overhead. The space was dim, illuminated only by his own glow and small patches of bioluminescent fungi clinging to damp stone. And there, on a makeshift bed of leaves and moss, lay Kazro.

The sight made something tighten in Vireth’s chest, an ache so deep he could scarcely breathe. The boy twitched and flinched in his sleep, caught in some nightmare Vireth couldn't begin to fathom. Golden-green veins pulsed along one side of his face and arms, throbbing. The other side bore red-black veins that spread like cracks through darker, almost bruised-looking skin. Sweat dripped down his face, soaking the improvised bedding beneath.

A strange glow sparked in Vireth’s core as he watched the boy—something like hope, fragile but persistent. Kazro had thrown himself at Shahar, with no other motive but the good of the Wilds.

That selflessness, that willingness to sacrifice for others…that was what Vireth had always wanted in the Plague Lord—what he'd foolishly believed might exist beneath the god's callous exterior.

Kazro groaned, his body twisting as if trying to escape some invisible torment. Vireth’s throat constricted, his fists tightening. Golden-green mist flowed around the boy—Gaia, Kazro’s god. A being who hadn't spoken in days. Vireth knew the deity was helping the boy through whatever hell he was enduring, fighting alongside him in a battle that took place entirely within.

Vireth’s chest grew even tighter, a knot forming that made it even more difficult to breathe, a growing sense of dread rising within, a fear that froze his insides.

What if Kazro didn't make it? What if whatever was happening to him proved too much, even with Gaia's help?

The thought sent an unexpected spike of panic through his soul, making his heart leap. Damnation, when had he come to care so much for this alien? When had Kazro’s fate become so entwined with his own sense of hope?

Perhaps from the moment he'd seen someone finally, finally stand against the tide of selfishness that threatened to drown this realm. Someone who embodied everything Vireth had once believed in.

As Kazro’s feverish thrashing intensified, Vireth found himself moving closer, the glow of his skin casting the boy's tormented features in stark relief. If the heralds found them—when they found them—he would fight. Not just for his own survival now, but for the boy's as well.

And for the future Kazro represented, whether he knew it or not.

Chapter 2 - Been Through Hell

Shahar-Sheh-Jab loomed over me, wrappings peeled back to reveal a skeletal face with burning red eyes. The titan lunged and, screaming, I swung with my scythe, the blade cleaving through its chest in a brilliant explosion of light.

And then, darkness. Absolute darkness.

A voice—ancient and furious—howled through the void, heat prickling through my soul, burning through my veins.

I convulsed, thrashing. Yelling. And then, another voice cut through the darkness—familiar, filled with light and warmth.

“Wake up, kid! Wake UP!”

Gritting my teeth, I tried prying my eyelids open.

“WAKE UP!”

I gasped, eyes shooting open as I sat bolt upright, panting. Sweating. The sweat slid down my face in rivulets, cold against my burning skin. I gulped air, forcing myself to breathe. In and out. In and out.

My heart hammered against my ribs as I quickly scanned my surroundings. A…cave? I was in a cave, walls glittering with golden specks that caught what little light filtered in from somewhere. Food lay nearby on a flat stone—dried meat, shriveled fruit. There was also a waterskin.

Confusion wrapped around my thoughts like fog. My brain felt like it was pulsing inside my skull, pressure building then releasing in rhythm with my heartbeat.

Mind Core Abilities

•Mental Defense: +50% resistance to illusions, mind control, and psychic attacks.

•Thought Speed: Processes information 10x faster, allowing instant battle analysis.

•Memory Fortress: Perfect recall of all experiences, even from altered realities.

•Mental Projection: Can shatter illusions and disrupt enemy thought patterns with force.

[Status: FULL - containing Vlindakh's eminence]

"What the hell?" I muttered, scrunching up my face. It was then that I felt it—that familiar warmth, that tingling across my skin. I looked down at my left arm and gasped.

The skin was tinted gold-green, with bright veins pulsing just beneath the surface. A familiar mist rose from it, curling around my fingers.

But when I glanced at my right arm, I grimaced. The skin there was dark, bruised-looking, with bulging angry red veins. Whispers tickled the back of my mind, growing louder the longer I stared at my corrupted limb.

[Vlindakh's Mark (Curse)]

[Corruption Level: 50%/100%]

A dark blessing infused into Kazro's soul, granting him devastating abilities at the cost of corruption.

Shadow Step (Active – Short-Range Teleport / Mobility)

◦Instantly teleport up to 30 feet through darkness.

◦Becomes intangible for 0.5 seconds while stepping.

◦Next attack deals +50% critical damage if exiting behind an enemy.

◦Cost: 15% Corruption

Blood Lance (Active – Health-Forged Projectiles / Life Sacrifice)

◦Converts Kazro’s HP into crimson spears.

◦Damage: (HP Sacrificed x2) per lance.

◦If a lance kills an enemy, Kazro absorbs the sacrificed HP.

◦Cost: 20% Corruption + 10% Current HP per lance.

Corruption Nova (Active – AoE Cursed Explosion / Debilitation)

◦Damage: (Magic x1.5) cursed damage in a 40-foot radius.

◦Inflicts Weakness (-30% attack & defense) for 8 seconds.

◦Cost: 25% Corruption.

Soul Shackle (Active – Spirit Bind / Disable Enemy Abilities)

◦Prevents movement and ability usage for 5 seconds.

◦Bound target takes +25% increased damage.

◦Cost: 30% Corruption.

Void Strike (Active – Devastating Darkness Slash / True Damage)

◦Damage: (Attack x3) + (Corruption % x10) True Damage.

◦Ignores all armor, barriers, and defensive abilities.

◦Cost: 40% Corruption.

Essence Devourer (Active – Energy Drain / XP Absorption)

◦Drains 5% of the target’s max HP per second.

◦Kazro gains XP equal to 5x the target’s level per second.

◦Cost: 35% Corruption + 20 MP per second.

[New Ability Unlocked]

[Immunity to the Night]

• Dark-type abilities are immune to bindings, paralysis, and mind blocks.

• Passive resistance to corruption (slows Curse Meter progression)

“Kid?"

I jumped and looked up to see a familiar face—more detailed than I'd ever seen it before. Though still composed of gold and green mist, his features were young, putting him in his late thirties. His eyes gleamed gold, his beard threaded with emerald. He hovered there, the size of my hand, his robes flowing, sleeves large and roomy, hands waving in front of my face.

"Yoo-hoo! Kid! You with me?"

I blinked rapidly, my heart warming as I locked eyes with Gaia…

Gaia—the god who'd walked through hell at my side, who'd given me the power to conquer my father, my past, and Shahar.

“I’ve done all that and more!” He pointed at my face. “Don't forget it!”

Tears burned in my eyes and I laughed—a raw, grateful sound that surprised even me. I grabbed the little god and pulled him into a hug. He yelped, then laughed as I embraced him as best I could, given his diminutive size.

I let out a long sigh, relief flooding through me. It was a warm current, washing away the lingering chill of my nightmares. I was alive. We had survived. Against all odds, we'd faced down a titan and a dark god, and we were still here to tell the tale.

"Thank you," I whispered, voice cracking. "For everything. For staying with me. For not giving up."

"Pffft," Gaia scoffed, but I could hear the emotion he tried to hide. "As if I'd let my best Wielder in centuries get himself killed. We're just getting started, kid."

My heart warmed, and for a moment, we just stayed like that—me holding him close, both of us silently acknowledging what we'd been through. What we'd survived, together.

Then Gaia pushed back, his expression growing serious. "Speaking of getting started," he said, pointing toward me.

My interface materialized, stats glowing brightly before my eyes.

Name: Kazro

Class: Transcendent

Subclass: Sower

Level: 165

XP: 7,820 XP

Rank: F

Attributes:

•Health (HP): 1,960/1,960

•Magic (MP): 3,130

•Stamina: 998/998

•Attack: 1,044

•Defense: 834

•Speed: 300

XP & Bond Skills:

•XP Absorption: Gain +50% XP from defeated enemies.

•Resonance: Items and allies within 100 feet gain +25% bonus stats.

•Bond Link: Can merge abilities with bonded allies for unique synergy skills.

I gaped at the numbers, blinking hard to make sure I wasn't hallucinating. "Holy shit," I breathed. "Is this…is this right?"

"What, did you think killing a titan wouldn't come with some perks?" Gaia crossed his arms, looking smug. "You've grown, kid. Power like that doesn't come easy."

I stared at my hands—one glowing with Gaia's power, one pulsing with something darker. The physical manifestation of my dual nature now: a fact I didn’t want to face.

“Vlindakh is trapped inside that head of yours.”

I grimaced, nausea rising in my gut.

“Not all of him, of course. Just a major part of his eminence. In a way, you could be considered one of his divine vestments.”

“Not a comforting thought.”

“Agreed. But that’s not the worst of it,” Gaia continued, his tone sobering. “We've got a problem.” He jabbed a finger at my curse meter. “That thing keeps climbing. If it hits 100%, Vlindakh breaks free from your Mind Core and spreads through your entire system. Right now, you've got him trapped, contained. But if he gets loose…”

A chill crept up my spine. "What happens then? If he breaks out?"

Gaia's light dimmed slightly. "Your body won't be yours anymore, kid. Vlindakh will take over—and trust me, he won't be kind. He'll use your power, your connections, everything you've built…and turn it all toward his own ends."

I swallowed hard, trying to process the enormity of what he was saying. I had a dark god trapped inside my skull, and if I lost control, I wouldn't just die—I'd become a weapon for that same god.

My stomach chose that moment to growl—loud and insistent, reminding me that nightmare or no, dark god or no, my body had basic needs. I shifted to my knees, reaching for the food laid out nearby.

Then, I frowned.

“Wait… Who brought all this?” I asked, tearing into some dried meat. Gods, I was starving. How long had I been out?

Gaia shrugged. "No idea. I've been inside with you the whole time, keeping that curse at bay. Could've been days since the fight. Maybe longer."

Days. The word hit me like a physical blow. Days away from Gaian City, from the Windwhisper Wilds. My heart fluttered with sudden anxiety. What had happened in my absence? Was everyone safe? The queen? Ariana? Archimedes? The latter two got my heart racing.

Yet alongside that worry came a swell of excitement, expanding in my chest like a balloon. We'd done it. We'd actually done it. We'd protected Gaian City and the Wilds from Shahar and Vlindakh. Against all odds, we'd won.

But my heart grew heavy as another thought struck. Could I protect them from the other gods? From the other monarchs who might seek to claim the Wilds for their own, now that Shahar was gone?

[Campaign Quest: Guardian of the Wilds]

[The Plague Lord’s Schemes]

[New threats are here and on the horizon. It is your job to protect the people of this land]

[Objective: Protect the queen from this new threat]

[Reward: +25 Reputation with the Plague Lord and his kingdom]

The title the queen had given me—Guardian of the Wilds—wasn't just an honor. It was a responsibility. A duty. And looking at that quest notification, I realized I didn't just accept it; I embraced it. I was the Guardian of the Wilds now. Their protector. Their shield against whatever came next.

I finished the last of the food, my mind racing. I needed to get back to Gaian City. I needed to make sure my friends were safe. I needed to see Ariana—to know she'd survived whatever battles she faced in my absence. Archimedes, the queen, all of them—I had to know they were okay.

I pushed myself up, attempting to stand, but pain shot through my body like lightning. Every muscle screamed in protest, going stiff as boards. I fell back to my knees, panting, sweat beading on my forehead from just that small effort.

"Take it easy," Gaia cautioned. "Your body's been through hell."

Before I could respond, I heard footsteps. Someone was entering the cave. My Mind Core kicked in, processing at ten times its normal speed, analyzing the sound pattern, the weight distribution, the cadence.

One I immediately recognized.

I spun, still on my knees, to face the entrance.

And there he stood—Vireth, with his acid-green face, silver chainmail gleaming beneath torn clothes, and yellow eyes that seemed to glow in the dim light of the cave

Our eyes locked, and for a heartbeat, neither of us moved.

Chapter 3 - A Monster in the Mirror

Ariana shrieked as a pale-faced man tackled her, sinking fangs into her neck. She screamed, shoving him away even as others emerged from the shadows. Some with multiple eyes, all with those gleaming fangs, their long white hair flowing as they sprinted in her direction.

As she scrambled to her feet, her vision blurred. When she blinked, refocusing, she found herself climbing through a window, a delicious metallic scent filling her nostrils.

Inside, wounded people huddled together—some with brown hair, others with emerald locks or emerald-streaked tresses. Young and old alike, they screamed as she launched herself at them.

She screamed, jolting awake so violently she tumbled from bed, hitting the carpet with a dull thud. She lay there dazed, her body shaking as she took ragged breaths. In, out. In, out. Her mind cleared up, reality snapping into focus.

"Just a dream," she whispered to herself, pushing up onto her hands. “Just a nightmare. It's over. It wasn't real. It was just a…”

Her voice trailed off as she noticed a stain on the carpet. Dark, crimson streaks and spatters leading all the way to an open window with torn emerald curtains. Through the gap, she could see the sky slowly brightening with dawn's approach, but she barely registered it.

Trembling, tingles washed over her. Where did this…this blood come from?

She looked down at herself, horror rising as she saw her clothing spattered with it. With a choked sound, she grabbed the curtains and tore them down, throwing them over the carpet, hiding the blood.

She turned away, ripping off her shirt, feeling the eight spider legs twitch and squirm on her back. She ended up facing a mirror, wearing her undershirt, the sight of her reflection making her freeze.

Long dark hair reached past her shoulders, with a streak or two of white so close together they almost looked like a single band. Her eyes—cat-like slits now—stared back at her from a face that had grown deathly pale. Fangs pressed against her lips, and black claws jutted from her fingertips.

But worst of all were those eight spider legs arcing from her back, surrounding her body like a cage of chitinous horror.

A single, devastating thought crossed her mind as she stared into her own alien eyes: You are a monster. Ugly. Unlovable. Her throat tightened as Kazro came to mind. How could he ever love you like this?

Frowning, she shook her head and tore her gaze away. She breathed deeply, trying to steady herself. She glanced once more at the curtain thrown over the bloodstained carpet, then at the shirt she'd discarded. Moving quickly, she pulled fresh clothing from her drawers, struggling with the spider legs jutting from her back. She had to poke holes through the fabric for them to stick out.

She grabbed a cloak that Archimedes had provided—a Drifter's cloak—and threw it on, pulling up the hood. Immediately, her aching eyes were soothed as dark mist flowed around them, dimming the harsh light. Her heightened senses were overwhelming; every brush of fabric against her skin felt like sandpaper, each distant sound thundered in her sensitive ears.

She even heard whispering outside her door—women's voices, worried, debating whether they should check on her. Ariana ignored them, turning instead to the open window.

From her position in one of the castle's tallest towers, she could see far across Gaian City. Homes of emerald and wood spread out below, many bearing the scars of battle. People moved through the streets, working to rebuild what had been destroyed. Tree golems—humanoid figures with bark-like skin and glowing green eyes—helped clear debris, their massive arms lifting fallen timbers with ease.

What shocked her most were the massive worms sprawled out in the distance, and the Sa'Khari moving among them. The desert people, with their dark skin wrapped like mummies and crystalline ruby eyes, walked alongside Gaians, helping with the cleanup. Yet, she could see the divide—the locals, with their brown or emerald hair, kept their distance from these former enemies. Enemies, who’d killed their king.

The sight made her feel strange, conflicted. And she wasn’t quite sure why. Well, those people had kidnapped you. Of course you’d feel this way.

She shuddered, shaking her head, her thoughts turning to Kazro again. Her heart ached. She looked toward the outer wall, where a large tree-like tower had blown apart, its base splintered as if it’d exploded from within. Days had passed, and still they hadn't found him. She sighed, her expression growing tight. The thought of living in a world without Kazro was unbearable.

If they don’t locate him tonight, Archimedes had said. Meet me on the Western wall at sunrise. We’ll go together—find him together.

Her gaze shifted to the city walls, where hundreds of Drifters stood wearing their shadowy cloaks, their glowing eyes visible even at this distance. Her heart skipped as she thought about the decision she'd made just days ago—to let them through instead of using that astral heart to return home.

Her insides ached for her parents, her eyes burning with unshed tears. But she wiped them away quickly, knowing she'd made the right choice. She could never have lived with herself if she'd left this world—left Kazro behind.

And now, she had to find him.

But first, she needed to find Archimedes. Together, they would hunt for their friend.

Before she could climb out the window, the door to her room opened. She gasped, spinning to face the two women who walked in. They flinched, eyes going wide. Though they had seen her before, though everyone knew of the princess's metamorphosis, they were momentarily stunned, clearly frightened.

You are a monster now. Unlovable.

"Princess!" the women exclaimed in unison, bowing. Their sharp voices made Ariana wince, the sound piercing her ears.

"The queen," one said, "she wants to see you."

Surprise flickered across Ariana's face. The queen was deathly ill; Archimedes and the Sundust Sage had been tending to her—but to no avail. The thought of the ancient Drifter made her heart flutter. Archimedes told her how the Sage had given up, had been ready to abandon this world entirely—but now he was here, the flaming light of hope rekindled.

The monarchs would think twice about attacking the city with a Sage here, Archimedes had said, the memory sending tingles down her spine. The Sundust Sage was an entity almost as old as the world itself—a force powerful enough to give even the rulers of this realm pause.

“Are you ready, Princess?” one of the women asked, still bowing.

Right. The queen. “Lead the way.”

Ariana followed the women through the castle, acutely aware of how tense they were. She tried not to let their discomfort bug her, so she glanced around, distracting herself. The corridors still showed signs of the poisonous toxic insects that’d overrun the place just a week earlier. Carpets were stained, walls gouged by claws and mandibles.

They descended several staircases before reaching a vast chamber. At its center stood a large bed where the queen lay, servants hovering nearby. Ariana's heart ached at the sight of her. Queen Vela had lost so much—her husband, King Terran, and most of her children were dead. Of the three survivors, Ariana was the only one who was sane.

She approached the edge of the bed, taking the woman's hand in her own clawed hand. She was grateful the queen's eyes were closed, unable to see the monster she’d become. The monarch looked terribly pale, her skin nearly translucent, her breathing shallow.

“Ariana…” the queen whispered, her voice barely audible. “I won't be here much longer. I need you to take the throne. I need you to lead… You and Kazro.”

Ariana's heart skipped a beat. That was…unexpected. “Yes, Your Majesty.” She bit her lip. “But, if we're both leading, wouldn't that mean he has to be…”

"He needs to take the throne, Ariana," the queen said firmly. “And you need to marry him.”

The words sent a shock through her system. A sudden spark of excitement fluttered in her chest at the thought of being with Kazro, officially, forever. But deep fear quickly followed. She looked down at her hand—at her pale skin, her dark claws—and remembered what she'd seen in the mirror.

How would Kazro react to her new form? Would he even recognize her, let alone love her?

She pushed the thought away, nodding, her throat tight. "I will," she whispered, just for the woman's sake.

The queen seemed to relax at her words, her breathing evening out slightly. Ariana stayed a moment longer, the weight of the woman's request settling over her like a heavy cloak.

A familiar buzzing interrupted her thoughts. She frowned, recognizing that noise. She looked toward the door just as a red streak blurred through.

"Princess!" Pip's chipper voice echoed, and Ariana perked up, staring at the wisp—a glowing orb tinged blue, translucent insect-like wings buzzing like a hummingbird's.

“Pip! What is it?”

The little wisp bounced around her, Ariana’s mood brightening. "Archimedes is looking for you!" Pip performed a quick loop-de-loop in the air.

Ariana's heart skipped. “Take me to him.”

Pip's wings stretched out, almost like a salute. "Yes, ma'am! Follow me!"

After giving the queen's hand one last squeeze and placing a gentle kiss on her forehead, Ariana hurried after the wisp, running to find Archimedes—and hopefully, together, they would find Kazro.

Chapter 4 - Gods of Life

It had been four days since the attack on Gaian City, and Archimedes was still in shock. Not because of the immense violence or slaughter—he was used to things like that. No, it wasn't the war that had him in disbelief.

It was the Drifter striding just beside him.

The Sundust Sage, father of the Desert Drifters. A man he never thought he'd see again, let alone walk beside.

And yet, there he was, wearing his typical wide-brimmed hat, the peak drooping to one side. Two fiery eyes observed a marble held between gloved fingers, turning it over delicately. The flaming pattern across his amber robe seemed to flicker, dancing with each step he took.

As Archimedes watched the sage, a tangle of emotions knotted in his core. The burning anger he'd once felt toward this man, the hurt that festered for decades after being abandoned—it was fading. Slowly but steadily, like ice before a fire. But something still lingered, deep and cracked at the very center of his being.

A wound not quite healed.

He ignored it, ambling along in silence with the Sundust Sage. The quiet between them felt charged, weighted with unspoken history.

Their silence broke as they passed the tower—a massive structure resembling a great tree that appeared to have exploded from within. “Impossible.” The sage took a deep breath then released it, chuckling darkly as he shook his head.  "And yet the evidence stands before us."

Drifters and Gaian guardians in patchwork capes passed by, their little harvest spirits—glowing entities with sparkling eyes—hovering around their shoulders. But Archimedes barely noticed them, his gaze drawn to the shattered tower radiating with Gaia's energy. Golden light sparkled in the air around the wreckage, motes of power dancing on the breeze.

"The gods of life were supposed to have abandoned this realm," the sage continued, his voice low. “I was so certain… And yet, here is proof not only of their presence, but of their power. A true Wielder, bonded to Gaia himself."

"I told you they hadn't forsaken us," Archimedes said, feeling the royal blue flames of his own form flicker. "The Gods of Life are returning, raising up Wielders who can restore what was lost to this world."

The Sundust Sage nodded slowly, still watching the golden light swirling around the destroyed tower. Then his expression shifted, growing grave.

"The monarchs will not sleep," he said, his tone hardening. “Not now. Not ever.”

That sent a pulse of panic through Archimedes' core, flames flickering from the openings of his sleeves. He clutched his staff, which pulsed with the same blue energy, veins of light running along its length.

"With most of their vestments hidden within the Wilds," the sage continued, "and their gods anxious to rise again, the monarchs will strike."

Archimedes nodded, feeling another pulse of alarm. He was also impressed with how much the sage knew about the locks beneath Gaian City—about the prisons. Four remained now, with Vlindakh's gone. One of the imprisoned gods belonged to the Plague Lord, and another to the Eldritch King. The Frost Baroness's goddess, surprisingly enough, wasn't one of them, which only made Archimedes' view of her a shade brighter.

“Scout reports claim that the Frost Baroness tried to intervene during Kazro’s fight with Shahar,” the Sundust Sage said. “But the Plague Lord moved on her lands, pulling her back and away from the fight.”

Archimedes considered this as they walked, thinking of the powerhouse the Frost Baroness represented. "Should we try to enter into an alliance with her?"

The sage's expression tightened, worry evident in those fiery eyes. “I’m…not fully certain what her motivations are, and although she is the lesser of two evils, I wouldn’t trust her. She's not in it for the good of the Divided Kingdoms.”

The Divided Kingdoms. The name of this region, given the rifts between monarchs.

“She’s not in it for the good of the Kingdoms,” Archimedes repeated. “Unlike Kazro.”

At the mention of the Wielder's name, the sage's aura brightened, tiny sparks jumping from his robes, dancing in the air around him. He straightened, a new buoyancy in his step.

“Which brings up what I wanted to talk with you about,” Archimedes said.

The sage turned, curiosity evident in his posture.

"Scouts have searched far and wide for Kazro with no luck. It's been days since his fight on the tower, and the more time that passes, the more anxious I'm getting." Archimedes' blue fiery form flickered. "I don't want to abandon you to the politics of this place, but I have to leave. I need to find Kazro."

The Sundust Sage nodded slowly, his pace decreasing until he came to a full stop. He turned to face Archimedes, who watched him, feeling a subtle ache resurface—the ache, of abandonment. Except, this time, the sage wasn’t leaving him.

He was leaving the sage.

The Drifter rested a hand on his shoulder and squeezed tight, his fiery gaze intense. “You will not go alone.”

A wave of warmth crashed through Archimedes, more powerful than he'd expected.

"I abandoned you once," the sage said quietly. “And I won't do it again. There are people here who can handle the politics of this—”

"But what if the monarchs show up?" Archimedes interrupted. The sage was the only one who could hold them back, and even then, it would be a close fight.

The sage shook his head slowly. "They don't have all five of their vestments—we know that much. They aren't a threat to this place yet. And we need to find Kazro. We need Gaia's Wielder here, and we need him to be stronger. With him present, I can tune into the astral plane and locate his remaining vestments."

Archimedes brightened. This was true. Though the sage could access the astral plane without Kazro, having him here would make locating Gaia's pieces much easier and more accurate.

Before they could continue, Archimedes spotted someone marching toward them—a woman with brilliant orange eyes and tan skin, a golden harvest spirit coiled around her arm like a luminous rope.

"Irene," he said, recognizing the woman. She’d traveled with Ariana last week, obtaining a heart that’d brought the Drifters through a portal and into the physical plane.

He was about to ask her if she found the princess, but his attention shifted to the man striding just behind her—a good head taller, muscular, wearing an open-vested outer robe that looked distinctly desert-like, with a buckle and loose baggy trousers. His eyes glittered like rubies—eyes that sent Archimedes’ core pounding, heat crackling through his channels.

More Sa'Khari followed him from behind, and Archimedes' essence began to boil at the sight of them. He could still hear the screams of his clan, still taste death in the air. He breathed deeply, trying to calm himself.

Before Irene could say a word, the Sa'Khari man pushed past, his voice demanding. "Take me to the Wielder of Gaia, slayer of the tyrant Kal’marath."

Surprise flickered through Archimedes. "Why do you seek Kazro?" He stepped forward, insides crackling.

The Sa'Khari man lifted his chin, defiant but controlled. "In our culture, the strongest lead," he said, his accent thick but his words clear. "We put our trust in the wrong god."

Archimedes flinched, his core pulsing sharply. Those were his words—the very phrase he’d used during his impassioned speech to the Sa'Khari.

"I never sided with Kalmarath," the man continued. “But he was on top. It was join or die. But I didn't treat the Yja’ba like the others did."

This caught Archimedes off guard. He knew of only one Sa'Khari who’d shown kindness toward the Yja’ba—Zerek, the warrior from the early days of their journey. The one who died fighting alongside Kazro, who’d asked him to tell his family that he fought for them in the end.

The Sa'Khari man's expression shifted, becoming more intense. "My name is Rekhael," he said. "My brother was Zerek."

Archimedes went still, feeling the air change.

"I know he was there," Rekhael continued, his voice lowering. "Kazro was with him in his final moments. My brother was Kal’marath's right hand hound, but I need to know what happened to him. I need to know the truth."

Archimedes knew that truth—that in the end, Zerek had fought for them, had helped Kazro, and had died because of it. But before he could speak, movement at the edge of his vision caught his attention.

A hooded figure approached, people parting to make way, keeping their distance. Cat-like glowing eyes shone from within the shadow of her hood, set in a pale face that Archimedes immediately recognized.

Ariana.

His soul brightened at the sight of her. And there was Pip, dancing around her, seemingly oblivious to the fear Ariana inspired in those around her. Irene was already moving to meet her, engulfing the princess in a huge hug.

Archimedes made his way over when suddenly, he felt a chill on the wind. He slowed, frowning, and turned to look toward the horizon.

Clouds were forming, gathering with unnatural speed, three sky-blue figures radiating within.

Archimedes' core went cold as the air temperature plummeted. Ice crystals formed on his staff, crackling as they spread. He knew that signature—had felt it once before, in the deserts beyond the Frost Baroness's domain.

Those lights shone, a shockwave exploding as they cometed in their direction.

Chapter 5 - Into the Shadows

"What are you doing here?" I shouted, shakily rising to my feet. Pain shot up my legs as I glared at Vireth. The green-skinned man held up both hands, backing away, his yellow eyes going wide.

He…actually looked terrified.

"I'm a friend," he whispered, taking another step back. "I'm not here to hurt you, Kazro."

Gaia shimmered into existence beside me. Though Vireth's words rang with sincerity, I remained wary, fixing him with a steady glare. "What about your lord?"

Pain flashed across Vireth's face. He took another step back and relaxed his hands a little, looking away. His mouth opened, then shut without a word.

I glanced at Gaia, both of us confused.

"There are heralds hunting for us right now," Vireth finally said, still avoiding my gaze. “And I wouldn't be surprised if an archlord was right behind them.”

"Archlord?" I echoed.

Vireth nodded. "One step above a herald and, trust me, you don't want to face one of those."

"Correction," Gaia said, floating out and holding up a finger. "An archlord wouldn't want to face one of these." He jabbed a thumb toward me. "Are you forgetting that this Wielder took out a titan?"

Vireth opened his mouth to respond but said nothing, looking away. I felt suddenly awkward and averted my gaze as well.

This was…really strange. Vireth had helped me, yes, but only because we'd needed to beat Shahar, the bigger threat. I’d always assumed that afterward, the herald would bind me and drag me before the Plague Lord. But as I looked around, glancing at the food, the water, and even the bed I'd been lying on…realization dawned.

Vireth had brought me here. Had provided food, water, shelter. Was…hiding out with me?

I wanted to say something about it, but felt suddenly choked up. After clearing my throat, another question popped out. “How long have I been out for?"

"Three, four days," Vireth replied.

I perked. "And you've been feeding me this whole time?"

Vireth shook his head. "I initially brought this food because I thought I'd need to, but to be perfectly honest, I stayed out of your reach the entire time."

I sensed there was a story behind that, but didn't press.

"You're in the rankings now, kid," Gaia spoke up. "Even an F-ranked is beyond basic mortal restraints."

I frowned at my god's misty floating form. "What do you mean?"

Gaia laughed. "When's the last time you ate something?"

That got me thinking. The last time was…was when Nyvara and Sveric fed me frosteel and everlife. But other than that, I couldn't remember.

Just thinking of those things sent a minty-cool freshness flushing through my bones: a reminder that they were practically unbreakable. My heart skipped. I looked down again at my body—at the dark side and the green side—and my heart pounded.

I glanced at my interface, taking in my level, all my moves, feeling a sense of empowerment wash over me. I felt whole inside. Open and healed.

Like nothing could stop me.

My thoughts turned to Gaian City, to Ariana and Archimedes and my friends—to Scarlet and Kli'Taka. Worry crept in.

"How far away is Gaian City?" I asked Vireth.

The man looked stunned. “You can't go back.”

I straightened, frowning. I was the Guardian of the Wilds. It was my duty to return.

"You need to stay here," Vireth insisted.

"And do what?" I challenged. "Hide while the Wilds suffer?"

"I'm trying to keep you safe," Vireth said, tension threading his voice. "You need to practice, grow stronger, away from prying eyes."

I stepped forward, my movements deliberate. I wasn't trying to threaten, just emphasize my point, but Vireth backed away anyway, hands raised defensively. The fear in the herald's eyes was unmistakable.

"I need stronger foes to get stronger," I said. "I can't just fight alone, away from everyone, while monarchs terrorize the Wilds."

"He's right," Gaia added, floating between us. “He needs to go back. Gaian City is the focal point of the Windwhisper Wilds. With the crown and the scythe at level four, I can tap into the aura there—get a better sense of where my other vestments are."

[Quest: Five Missing Pieces]

[Gaia’s divine armaments are scattered throughout the region. It is your job to find them all]

[Objective: Locate all five of Gaia’s divine armaments and Transcend each one]

[Progress: 2/5 located, 0/5 Transcended]

[Reward: Ultimate Transcendence]

Finding the remaining vestments—or, armaments as this quest referred to them—was part of my goal. I wanted to locate all five, bring them all to transcendence. But I also needed to fight stronger foes, get stronger myself and, above all, I protect the people of the Windwhisper Wilds.

I turned on my heel, marching toward the tunnel that led out of the cave.

"Kazro!" Vireth yelled after me. “I’m warning you—you might be able to take out two or three, maybe even four heralds, but that, plus an archlord, will be too much for you!”

In response, I summoned my Transcendent Cloak, my Shield, even the Slingshot. I turned to face Vireth, who staggered back, shocked.

"With these," I said confidently, "I won't have to fight them all at once."

I activated my cloak's ability, melting into the floor. Everything went dark, but I could sense my surroundings. I shot forward, past Vireth, then reappeared behind him, making the herald jump and spin around.

"We'll sneak around," Gaia said, a hint of mischief in his voice. "Move forward with subtlety. And when we find a lone herald, we'll strike."

As I limped past Vireth, the herald growled, then simply stormed after me. I glanced at him, frowning, watching the man work his jaw and grumble.

"Why are you helping me?" The question just popped out, curiosity getting the better of me.

Vireth seemed stunned. After a moment, his face twisted with barely contained rage. "Because the Plague Lord—my so-called 'lord'—is a tyrant!" he spat.

He looked embarrassed by the outburst, but continued anyway, his voice softer. “I…believe you can be a true monarch, Kazro. A true protector of this region. Someone who can finally unite the Divided Kingdoms and end the threat of the Blight.”

My heart skipped. The Blight. I’d heard of that place before—a spreading corruption on the very edge of our region. I'd also heard there were Wielders far more powerful beyond even that place, and the thought made my heart hammer, my insides sicken. I refused to even talk about, let alone think about, the wider world. I needed to focus on protecting the Wilds, on being their guardian.

I reached out, grabbing Vireth's arm with my emerald-gold hand. He flinched at the contact, but I just offered him a smile.

He glared back, jaw clenched. And yet…

And yet there was a kindness in his eyes. Something I’d failed to see before. But not only that, there was admiration there too. Even a hint of fear.

If this herald wanted me dead, he would have killed me in my sleep—would have brought me to his lord.

Somehow, our journey had changed him. And I couldn’t help but smile at that.

But there was no more time to waste. “Ready to hunt some heralds?"

Before Vireth could answer, I activated my cloak's abilities, and the two of us melted into the shadows.

Chapter 6 - Unexpected Alliance

Three armored figures descended like angels, trailing mist and frost. They wore armor that looked carved from ice itself, their skin frost-white. The woman on the right had sky-blue hair that danced. On the left hovered a man who looked to be her twin, with the same delicate features and sharp, cold eyes. Between them loomed a taller figure in more elaborate armor, crowned with a helmet that obscured their face entirely.

Ariana held up a hand, blocking out the blinding light that seemed to grow as they approached. She stepped back a few paces, feeling their presence push against her like a physical force. Pip buzzed anxiously beside her, wings a blur of motion. Irene stood nearby, her tan skin and patchwork cloak a stark contrast to the pristine warriors descending from above.

Not far away, Archimedes and the Sundust Sage stood watching the approach, their postures tense but controlled. Ariana couldn't help but marvel at how different Archimedes looked now—a being of flickering royal blue flame rather than the shadowy one she'd first met. But her attention quickly returned to the armored visitors as they touched down several feet away.

Frost spread across the stones beneath their feet, crackling as it expanded outward. The air temperature plummeted, causing Ariana's breath to fog.

“So, it is true…” the central armored figure said, her voice resonant and echoing. “The Sage of the Sundust Reaches has returned.” She offered a courteous bow, which the Sundust Sage returned with equal formality. "Pardon us for showing up uninvited," the woman continued, "but we have a common enemy on the move."

"A common enemy?" Irene stepped forward, her orange eyes narrowed. "For all intents and purposes, every single monarch is an enemy to the Wilds." She crossed her arms, defiant despite the obvious power difference. "Not long after Vireth took over Gaian City, your heralds showed up with armies and stationed them here."

Ariana remembered those events all too well. The glowing blue comets that had streaked overhead, freezing everything in their path.

The armored leader inclined her head slightly. "My apologies for what transpired. That was not our intention. We were only moving against the Plague Lord."

Ariana frowned, doubting the sincerity of those words. Her spider legs twitched beneath her cloak. Why were they here now? What did they want? With Kazro missing, they had limited time to waste on diplomatic niceties.

Almost without meaning to, she stepped forward. "What do you want?" she demanded, her voice sharper than intended. "Why are you here?"

All three ice warriors flinched back visibly. The female twin's eyes widened, her gaze fixed on Ariana's pale face, on the spider legs that peeked out and curved around her like a cage.

"What is a servant of the Eldritch King doing here?" the male twin asked, disgust evident in his voice.

Ariana's stomach tightened painfully. She knew how she looked—like a monster, something to be feared and despised.

Irene stepped up beside her, placing a protective hand on her shoulder. Archimedes moved as well, positioning himself slightly in front of them both.

"This is Princess Ariana," he said, his voice hardening with each word. "Without her, this city wouldn't be standing. She was bitten by one of the spider folk and nearly died. She now bears the mark of that encounter, but she is no servant of the Eldritch King."

Sickness welled in Ariana's gut as the warriors continued to stare, eyes wide. Would everyone always look at her like this now? With fear and revulsion? Her thoughts turned to Kazro. How would he react when he saw what she'd become?

"I am Archlord Alyxandria," the central warrior said, removing her helmet to reveal a face of stunning, cold beauty. Her hair was white as snow, her eyes the blue of deep ice. "We've come to speak with the Guardian of the Wilds."

Ariana’s heart skipped.

"Our spies have reported numerous servants of the Plague Lord scouring the Wilds," Alyxandria continued. “He searches for his final vestment, and we cannot allow him to find it.”

Ariana's blood went cold. The Plague Lord's servants were searching the Wilds—they could be hunting for Kazro. He was in more danger than she'd imagined. A look from Archimedes told her he'd reached the same conclusion.

“We propose an alliance,” Alyxandria said. “But we wish to do so in the presence of Gaia’s Wielder.”

The Sundust Sage exchanged a glance with Archimedes. "The Guardian hasn't been seen since the destruction of Vlindakh's prison," the sage said, his voice grave.

The warriors visibly tensed. "What?"

“Scouts have been searching,” Archimedes said. “But with this news about the Plague Lord's people roaming around, we're even more concerned for his safety.”

“Why are we just standing here, then?” The female twin leaned forward, her sky-blue hair catching the light. “We need to go after him—find him! Kazro needs us!”

Something about her tone—the way her eyes lit up—made Ariana's skin itch with irritation, though she didn’t quite know why. She found herself stepping forward, standing taller despite the spider legs weighing her down.

“There is no time to waste,” she said firmly. “We leave immediately.”

Archlord Alyxandria nodded. “We'll help you search.” She raised a gauntleted hand, and clouds of shimmering mist began to form beneath their feet. “Hurry. Time is of the essence.”

The clouds solidified, becoming dense. The Sundust Sage stepped onto one without hesitation. Archimedes followed, gesturing for Ariana to join. She did, with Pip buzzing around her head, though the wisp seemed wary of their misty transport.

As they rose into the air, Ariana noticed more figures emerging from the tree line in the distance—dozens of soldiers wearing light blue armor. They moved toward the city, not to attack, but to join the search, climbing onto their own ice-clouds.

The Drifters below, watching from the city wall, climbed onto their own clouds, joining Ariana.

“Where was he last seen?” Alyxandria asked, and Archimedes pointed off toward the horizon—toward the direction Kazro had launched, all those many days ago.

Archlord Alyxandria raised her hand, and the twins moved to flank her again. With a gesture that sent a loud crack through the air, they shot forward. Archimedes, the Sundust Sage, and Ariana launched after them, wind whipping her hair, clouds streaking like comets.

As the wind whipped past her face, Ariana's determination solidified. They would find Kazro. They had to. And when they did, she would face whatever came next—though, she wasn’t sure she was ready. Fighting monarchs alongside her best friend was one thing, but showing her face? Her fangs? Her creepy eyes?

She shuddered, remembering the nightmare—the screaming children—the blood spattering her shirt. Groaning, she pushed those thoughts away. Just a dream. Just a nightmare.

But deep down, she knew the truth.

Knew that life would never be the same.

Knew that she was now, and would forever be, a monster.

And yet, still, she denied it. Shoved the darkness back. But there was little she could do to silence the screams. Screams that would haunt her for the rest of her life.

Chapter 7 - True Monarch

I surged through the darkness.

I couldn't see a thing in this form—could only sense the world around me as ripples of energy, the outlines of trees and branches and stones. But I could feel Vireth's presence, my grip on him firm even as we raced through the shadows.

My burnout gauge was climbing, but I had a while yet.

[Burnout: 246%/800%]

We'd been traveling in one direction for a while, so I needed to gain my bearings. I found a tree and shot upward, climbing its massive trunk, seeking the safety of its dense canopy. I slipped into solid form on a high branch, my Transcendent Cloak wrapped around me, its power humming against my skin.

"Dismiss it," Vireth hissed, yellow eyes darting nervously toward the horizon. "Heralds can sense auras easily, and your Transcendent items radiate power like beacons."

I nodded, willing the cloak away. It vanished, the burnout gauge in my interface immediately beginning to tick downward. I stepped carefully out onto the branch, looking out over an endless sea of green. Trees stretched to the horizon, swaying gently in the breeze.

Pulling up my map interface, I could see just how far we were from Gaian City. We still had miles to go…

"You took me so far," I said, glancing over at Vireth, who was grumbling as he brushed off the remnants of his tattered clothing. His chainmail armor tinkled softly with each movement.

"I still think you shouldn't go back," he said, not for the first time.

"I have to go back,” I countered. "The Wilds need their guardian."

"The Wilds need you alive," Vireth shot back. "You go back to Gaian City now, you'll have every herald in the region hunting you down."

Gaia materialized beside me, his golden-green form shimmering in the dappled sunlight. "Kazro needs to be at the focal point—at Gaian City," he said. "From there, I can locate the rest of my vestments."

"Even if I trained for days or months alone," I added, "I'd never reach the strength I need without more of Gaia's vestments—without fighting stronger foes."

"We can find stronger foes that aren't backed by a monarch!" Vireth's voice rose, an edge of panic creeping in.

I studied him, a realization sinking in—he was genuinely afraid of being caught by the Plague Lord. He’d truly betrayed his master. The thought still amazed me, that this powerful being would turn against everything he knew to help me.

My gaze drifted to the opposite side of the forest, where the lush green gave way to something else entirely. A gray, lifeless expanse stretched into the distance, punctuated by jagged spires. A sickly haze hung over the land, visible even from this far away. My map interface identified it with a single word: BLIGHT.

Vireth stepped up beside me, following my gaze. "Soulless monsters live out there," he said, voice tight. "They're creeping little by little over this region's borders, killing everything in their wake."

A chill ran down my spine. Hearing of the Blight was one thing, but seeing it—the deadness of it, the wrongness of it—made my heart hammer against my ribs. What would happen to the Wilds if that deadness kept spreading? What would happen to Gaian City? To Ariana? To everyone I'd sworn to protect?

I needed to get stronger. Fast.

Suddenly Vireth tensed beside me, head snapping to the right. "Hide!" he hissed, grabbing my arm just as I sensed it—a presence, powerful and foreign, descending rapidly.

I summoned my Transcendent Cloak again, wrapping myself in its energy as Vireth and I melted back into shadow. We slid down the trunk, pooling at its base as the presence landed on a nearby branch, then dropped to the forest floor.

Even in shadow form, I could sense it was a herald—something about the particular pulse of their energy signature. They moved with predatory grace, head swiveling as if scanning the area.

Then, to my shock, they turned to look directly at where we hid. I tried to launch away, to escape deeper into the shadows—

Take them out! Gaia shouted in my mind.

I burst from my hiding place, summoning my Transcendent Slingshot in one fluid motion. The herald barely had time to register surprise before I launched a bolt straight at their chest. The attack exploded on impact, knocking them back.

Vireth and I sprinted forward. I dismissed the slingshot and called my scythe to hand, its emerald blade gleaming. The herald—a radiant bright green man with snakes for hair—scrambled to their feet, but they were too slow. I swung, Gaia's power surging through me, and cut them down with brutal efficiency.

[+500 XP]

Before I could even process the fight, Vireth stiffened. "More coming," he said, voice low and urgent.

I sensed them too—multiple presences approaching rapidly from different directions. We melted back into shadow, speeding away from the site of the fight. As we moved, I risked peeking up, solidifying just enough to catch a glimpse of several heralds flying overhead, heading toward where we'd been.

But they weren't the only ones.

Far in the distance, high above the trees, floated another figure. Not a herald—something far more powerful. I could feel it even from here, a crushing pressure that made my skin crawl.

"Archlord Tenebris," Vireth whispered, his body actually trembling—whether from anger or fear, I couldn't tell. Probably both.

The archlord had three eyes, the third positioned in the center of his forehead, all glowing with sickly yellow light. Massive, buzzing wings kept him aloft, and he wielded a wicked-looking glaive that seemed to drink in the sunlight.

"It takes ten heralds to take down a single archlord," Vireth said, voice tight. "And that's only if all the heralds are exceptionally strong." He swallowed hard. "We do not want to mess with him."

I nodded, calling the shadows around us once more. We slid away, keeping to the deepest patches of darkness beneath the trees.

The Plague Lord is desperate to find his final vestment. Vireth’s voice echoed in my mind as we moved through darkness. He's convinced it's hidden somewhere in the Windwhisper Wilds.

Why would it be there? I asked.

Because your king hid a lot of things, Gaia chimed in. Including pieces of other gods. The monarchs have been hunting for their missing vestments for decades..

And the one with all five becomes—what? Some kind of super-god?

The true monarch of this region, Vireth answered. Powerful enough to push back the Blight. Powerful enough to—

My interface flashed, interrupting everything. Scarlet's and Kli'Taka's names were pulsing, urgent and bright.

[Bond Alert: Scarlet & Kli'Taka in distress]

I froze, focusing on the bond. They weren't far—maybe a few miles. I could sense their panic, their pain. My heart started racing, cold sweat breaking out across my skin. I thought they were back in Gaian City. What the hell were they doing here?

Without another word, I shot off in their direction.

My friends needed me.

And nothing was going to stop me from reaching them.

Chapter 8 - Not a Motorcycle

I shot through darkness as a living shadow. Every second in this form pushed my burnout gauge higher, but I couldn't slow down—not with Scarlet's and Kli'Taka's distress signals pounding through our bond.

[Burnout: 412%/800%]

You're pushing yourself, kid, Gaia said in my mind. But be careful. You might need it for a fight.

He was right, but I kept pushing faster. The burnout gauge could climb to 750% before causing real problems. My friends needed me now. First them, then straight to Gaian City.

After what felt like forever, I sensed them close by—their familiar energy signatures tinged with fear and pain. I burst from the ground in a column of shadow, summoning my scythe as I materialized.

"Put them away!" Gaia hissed. "The scythe and cloak are beacons!"

Shit, I forgot about that. I dismissed them both, my Mind Core processing the battlefield in crystal clarity, details flooding in faster than I could have imagined before:

A pack of reptilian creatures—scaled and vicious with slitted yellow eyes—had surrounded Scarlet and Kli'Taka.

[Plague Warrior]

[Level: 98]

[Health: 230/230]

[Attack: 205]

[Defense: 330]

Scarlet's lupine form was massive, her multiple tails lashing as she snarled at her attackers. Kli'Taka had grown too, no longer the child I remembered but a teenager with sharp fangs and claws. Her dark skin glistened with sweat, her pearl-like eyes wide with fear as she backed against Scarlet.

When they saw me, their faces lit up with recognition.

Kli'Taka shouted something that might have been my name, relief flooding her voice.

With my transcendent weapons temporarily off-limits, I tapped into my bonds instead. I focused on Scarlet, feeling our connection strengthen as I drew on her abilities.

[Bond: Scarlet - 0%/100% Burnout]

[Ability Accessed: Confusion]

Three of the reptilian creatures howled, sprinting toward me.

I thrust out my hands, a psychic wave rippling from my palms. It slammed into them, their eyes glazing over as they staggered, suddenly whipping out blades and attacking each other.

More appeared around thick trunks, screeching as they darted at me.

I dodged a lunging attack, my fist connecting with a scaled jaw. The creature flew backward, crashing into two of its companions. I spun, leg sweeping out to catch another, sending it sprawling. I then waved out a hand, activating Hoar Frost and freezing dozens.

More emerged from the underbrush, hissing and spitting. My bond percentage with Scarlet was climbing steadily.

[Bond: Scarlet - 48%/100% Burnout]

I reached for Kli'Taka's abilities next, feeling her energy flow into me.

[Bond: Kli'Taka - 0%/100% Burnout]

[Ability Accessed: Stone Skin]

My skin hardened, taking on a rocky texture that deflected claws and fangs. I swung my arms, knocking creatures aside with enhanced strength.

A flash of acid-green caught my eye—Vireth had joined the fray, his chainmail glinting as he moved with surprising speed. His hands glowed with toxic energy as he ripped through five warriors at once.

Then, the tides shifted.

Two figures dropped from the trees—a man and a woman, both clad in dark armor accented with sickly green patterns. Heralds of the Plague Lord, by the energy I sensed. They took in the scene, their eyes widening when they spotted me.

"The Wielder!" the woman hissed.

They immediately turned to flee, knowing full well what I was capable of. I didn’t want to use my transcendent abilities, and my bonds with Scarlet and Kli'Taka wouldn't produce attacks with enough range.

I had no choice.

I reached for the darkness inside me, feeling Vlindakh's essence stir in my Mind Core.

[Vlindakh's Mark (Curse)]

[Corruption Level: 25%/100%]

[Ability Activated: Blood Lance]

Pain shot through my arm as blood welled from my palm, hardening and extending into a crimson spear. I cried out, thrusting my hand forward. The lance shot through the air, piercing the male herald through his back. He crumpled without a sound.

I tried to form another lance aimed at the woman, but she was faster, disappearing into the trees with unnatural speed.

"Dammit!" I cursed, watching my corruption gauge tick upward.

[Corruption Level: 32%/100%]

[+500 XP] (Herald of the Plague Lord)

[+120 XP] (Plague Warriors)

“Wonderful,” Gaia muttered, materializing beside me. "Drawing on a dark god's power. Brilliant strategy."

"I had nothing else," I snapped, running toward Scarlet and Kli'Taka. “Why so sarcastic?”

"If that curse hits 100%," Gaia said, his misty form flickering with agitation, "Vlindakh will flood your system. His essence will eat away your spirit like acid through paper."

"That's delightful," I muttered, helping Kli'Taka onto Scarlet's back. Vireth joined us, looking frustrated.

"Almost had the other one," he growled, climbing behind Kli'Taka.

I mounted Scarlet in front, patting her flank. "Let's move," I urged, giving her sides a gentle kick.

She crouched, powerful muscles bunching before she launched forward and she tore through the underbrush. I wanted to sink into shadow again, to hide our escape, but my burnout percentage was still dangerously high. Instead, I focused inward, beginning to meditate. Immediately, my burnout gauge began ticking downward—not quickly, but steadily.

[Burnout: 411%/800%]

"Can't this thing go any faster?" Vireth shouted over the wind rushing past us.

Gaia snorted. "What do you think she is, a motorcycle?”

"A what?" Vireth looked genuinely confused.

Despite the tension, I smirked. Sometimes, I forgot how much Gaia actually knew about Earth. It was one of many mysteries about my god, a past I hadn't had time to fully unravel.

I sank deeper into meditation, the world around me growing distant as I focused on my breathing, burnout dropping steadily as we raced through the forest.

[Burnout: 411%/800%]

[Burnout: 389%/800%]

[Burnout: 374%/100%]

My mind cleared, senses sharpening. I could feel the forest around us—every tree, every stone, every creature. I could sense something moving through the earth beneath us, something large and purposeful.

“Something coming!” I shouted. “Something—”

The ground erupted around us.

Scarlet skidded to a halt as insects burst from the soil in a perfect circle, surrounding us. These weren't ordinary bugs—they were massive, each the size of a horse, with chitinous armor gleaming acid-green.

Then the earth behind us exploded upward, debris raining down as something—someone—landed with bone-jarring force. I turned Scarlet around slowly, my hand instinctively reaching out to summon my scythe.

The archlord rose to his full height, towering over us. Three eyes—one centered in his forehead—fixed on me with predatory focus. Massive, buzzing wings stretched wide behind him, and his armor seemed to absorb the very light around it.

Archlord Tenebris had found us.

Chapter 9 - To Let Go

Archimedes knelt on a billowing light blue cloud, gripping its cottony mistiness and shoving forward, propelling through the air. He zoomed past towering trees, his eyes following a trench carved in the earth below—a drag mark that led to…nothing. The trail simply ended, with no sign of who or what had left it.

His core pulsed with panic. This was the trench the scouts had mentioned—one that obviously belonged to Kazro. Where was he, then? Had he already been taken? Had the Plague Lord's servants found him first?

Glancing around, Archimedes took in their strange procession—Ariana on her own cloud, her spider legs just visible beneath her cloak; several dozen Drifters with their shadowy faces and glowing eyes spread out across the sky; lesser ice warriors sailing on frost-tinged platforms; and ahead of them all, the heralds and Archlord Alyxandria leading the way.

Pip buzzed up beside him, her tiny form glowing against the sky. "Do you feel that?" she asked, voice tinged with excitement.

Archimedes glanced at her, then drew in a deep breath of aura. Having her nearby helped—she enhanced his senses, especially when it came to detecting energy signatures. She landed on the brim of his hat, extending like an antenna, pointing ahead.

He closed his eyes, concentrating. Yes, there it was—a potent aura, distant but unmistakable.

The divine energy of Gaia himself.

"I sense it too," someone said from nearby.

Archimedes turned to see the Sundust Sage on another cloud, flying beside him. The Drifter's flickering fiery eyes stared off to one side, fixed on that distant energy. But the aura wasn't coming from the direction they were all traveling.

"Archlord Alexandria!" he called out. "Heralds Nyvara and Sveric! We're going the wrong way!"

He slowed his cloud, rising higher to catch their attention. The ice-armored figures turned to face him, their expressions hidden behind gleaming faceplates.

In that moment, a tremendous explosion of aura burst across the sky—a mixture of Gaia's emerald energy and…something else. Something sickly and green, like poisoned moss.

The Plague Lord's essence.

Panic lanced through Archimedes' core. Without waiting, he grabbed his cloud and shoved it forward, launching toward the explosion. His mind narrowed to a single goal: save Kazro.

As he flew, he noticed Rekhael soaring nearby with other Sa'Khari warriors. The sight cracked something inside, releasing a hot flash of suppressed fear and anger.

The more he tried to push it down, the more the pain flared up, roaring through his spiritual channels like wildfire. He'd thought he had it under control—had believed himself above such mortal weaknesses as grudges and hatred.

Pip buzzed beside him, her light pulsing with gentle understanding. She'd known all along, of course. Had sensed his pain from the beginning. But for the first time, she spoke of it directly.

"He helped Kazro," she said softly. "Zerek died fighting for us, not against us." She hesitated, her light dimming slightly as if gathering courage. "Now it's time for your healing, Arca. To let go. To release the pain."

Something tightened in Archimedes' core—a knot of emotion he hadn't allowed himself to acknowledge in decades. Why was he holding back? Why cling to this pain when it served no purpose but to corrode from within?

He wasn't sure. Perhaps because the pain was familiar. Perhaps because without it, he would have to face all that he’d lost, all that could never be recovered.

Before he could sink deeper into these thoughts, a flash of emerald illuminated the distant sky. He felt Gaia's aura radiate again, stronger this time, laced with desperation and power.

His focus snapped back to the present—to helping Kazro. Nothing else mattered now. Not his pain, not his past—only reaching the Wielder before it was too late.

Archimedes poured more essence into his cloud, his form blazing with brilliant blue fire as he launched forward, leaving the others behind in his desperate race to save his friend.

Chapter 10 - Verdant Dominion

Scarlet shuffled beneath me, muscles tense and ready to spring. Her massive wolf-fox form trembled as she bared her teeth, snarling at Archlord Tenebris. The man narrowed his eyes, but said nothing. I glared back, waiting for him to make the first move, to strike.

Kli'Taka and Vireth sat behind me, equally tense—the herald's grip tightening on my shoulder.

I summoned my scythe, the emerald weapon materializing in my hand with a flash of green light. My shield and slingshot followed, their power humming, tingling against my skin. The feel of them was reassuring, familiar.

All around us, the massive insects clicked and chittered, their mandibles working in hungry anticipation. Some had pincers large enough to snap a man in half, others sported stingers that dripped with toxic green venom. Armored beetles with horns like battering rams crawled alongside wasps with multiple rows of glowing eyes. Their exoskeletons shared the same sickly green hue as their master's power—the signature of the Plague Lord.

More heralds landed behind Tenebris, five in total, each uniquely terrifying. One had skin that rippled like liquid, another bore a snarling mask that seemed fused to his face. A female herald with hair like writhing centipedes stepped forward, her gaze burning with hostility as she looked not at me, but at Vireth. The contempt in her eyes was unmistakable—the disgust one reserves for betrayers and oath-breakers.

Vireth tensed even more. I could almost feel the shame and defiance radiating from him in equal measure.

Tenebris cleared his throat, rolling his shoulders. What the hell. Why aren’t you talking? Fighting?

Heart pounding, I squeezed the haft of the scythe, ready to launch out an attack.

Gaia materialized beside me, his golden-green form shimmering. "Steady, Kazro," he murmured. "Steady."

I sat taller, gripping my scythe with a bolstering sense of confidence. The crown materialized on my head, its weight a comfort. After everything I'd been through—after facing down Shahar, after accepting both the light and darkness within me—I felt whole.

Complete.

Ready for whatever came next.

And to my surprise, Archlord Tenebris merely raised his hand, his third eye blinking slowly as he formed a peculiar gesture with his fingers.

"That's a peace sign," Vireth whispered. "He doesn't want to fight."

"Wielder of Gaia!" Tenebris’s voice was smooth and resonant, almost pleasant. He spread his arms wide in a welcoming gesture, sauntering forward with the easy confidence of someone who knew their worth. "We have not come to kill you, but to congratulate you on slaying Shahar-Sheh-Jab, Titan of the Dark God, Vlindakh."

At the mention of Vlindakh's name, something pulsed inside my mind—a distant rage, an irritation that wasn't mine. My interface flashed briefly:

[Vlindakh's Mark (Curse)]

[Corruption Level: 57%/100%]

I pushed the sensation away. The dark god was contained, for now.

"The Plague Lord extends his invitation," Tenebris continued, stopping just short of Scarlet's striking range. "He wishes to meet the Wielder who accomplished the impossible."

"You mean he wants to use me," I replied, keeping my scythe steady. "To control me."

Tenebris smiled, the expression not reaching his eyes. "Control is such an ugly word. The Plague Lord sees your potential. He offers guidance, resources and protection."

"I have all the guidance I need," I said, nodding toward Gaia.

"If you come willingly," Tenebris said, his voice hardening slightly, "there will be no bloodshed. We promise. Not against you, nor against your friends, or in Gaian City."

I tightened my grip on the scythe. "And if you don't step aside, there will be bloodshed."

Using my Mind Core’s and crown's abilities, I quickly scanned the archlord:

[Archlord Tenebris]

[Level: 230]

[Health: 5,600/5,600]

[Attack: 890]

[Defense: 710]

[Special Abilities: ???]

The numbers sent a chill up my spine. He was far beyond my current level, and yet… Yet, I didn’t feel afraid. There was something else bubbling inside. An excitement, an anticipation, deep within my gut. It was like nothing I’d ever experienced before.

"You destroyed a titan," Gaia whispered. "Yes, you nearly died from it, but you still took out a titan."

He was right. Despite being surrounded by enemies, I was calm. There was a sense of wholeness inside—a completeness I'd fought hard to achieve. I was no longer that small powerless boy from Earth. I was Kazro, Wielder of Gaia, Guardian of the Wilds.

There was something else, too. Something I remembered. Gaia had promised me something last week, when we chased down Shahar: that by the end of it, I would be stronger than the heralds helping me on that quest.

And I was.

Tenebris was glaring at me.

“Move aside,” I commanded.

“This is not the time,” Archlord Tenebris said, his patience clearly wearing thin. "Disaster is on the horizon, and this region needs unification—the empowerment of a single monarch. If we are to withstand the threats beyond our lands…”

My mind flashed to the Blight—that dead, gray expanse I'd glimpsed from the tree. I thought of what Vireth had told me, how it was slowly spreading, consuming everything in its path. I even thought, briefly, of the Wielders Vireth had mentioned—those who existed far beyond the Divided Kingdoms.

But I quickly refocused on the present danger. Those things could wait. What I needed to do was knock this jerk aside and reach Gaian City.

“The Plague Lord doesn't want you dead," Gaia whispered. "But what he has planned might be worse. You'll become an indentured servant at best."

I glanced at my burnout percentage, noting with satisfaction that it had dropped significantly, thanks to my meditation and the crown's effects. I was almost back to normal levels.

My mind raced through my options. I could use a powerful attack, something that would at least distract the archlord and possibly take out the lesser heralds.

"Not a bad idea,” Gaia murmured, picking up on my thoughts. "If we time it just right—"

He stopped mid-sentence, his form growing completely still. Then, I sensed it too—a cold aura, frigid and powerful, approaching fast. I knew that signature, had felt it once before, from Nyvara and Sveric, Heralds of the Frost Baroness.

But this was more…

Much more.

My eyes widened as I looked back at Vireth, who’d also noticed the approaching aura. The herald's acid-green face split in a tentative grin, his yellow eyes gleaming.

I turned back to Archlord Tenebris. His previously calm expression had tightened, one eye twitching ever so slightly. The balance of power was shifting.

It was now or never.

I activated one of my crown's abilities:

Verdant Dominion

•Type: Wide AoE | Radius: 25 feet | Burnout: 45%

•Effect: The ground erupts with emerald energy, dealing 150 damage to enemies and healing allies for 100 HP.

•Special: Any enemy struck has a 30% chance to be rooted for 3 seconds.

The power exploded outward in a dazzling array of emerald light, like fireworks erupting in all directions, the earth cracking and exploding. The archlord and his heralds screamed, temporarily blinded by the display. The insects screeched and scattered, their formations breaking.

"Now!" I shouted, and Scarlet launched with a powerful bound that nearly unseated Kli'Taka. The teen clung to my waist, screaming.

As we raced away, I could feel the cold aura growing stronger. Reinforcements were coming—but these weren’t allies. They belonged to a force just as oppressive, and I had every intention to get as far away as possible.

Chapter 11 - Fresh Prey

Ariana's heart pounded as brilliant gold and green lights exploded in the near distance. She clutched the cottony mist of her cloud, shoving forward harder, zooming faster through the air, her hair whipping in the wind.

The forest below was a blur of tall trees with silver bark, their canopies parting to reveal flashes of emerald ahead. She pushed more of her MP into the cloud, willing it to move faster, desperate to reach the source of that flashing light.

Toward Kazro.

Her excitement grew at the thought of seeing him again, but fear quickly followed. What if he was injured? What if they were too late?

Her gaze dropped briefly to her hand gripping the cloud—pale as death, with sharp black claws where her nails should be. Her stomach sank as another fear took hold. What would Kazro think when he saw her like this? Her spider legs twitched on her back beneath her cloak, her body trembling at the thought.

Movement to her left caught her attention. Archimedes flew alongside her on his own cloud, his wide-brimmed hat pulled low. His face was pure flame, glowing eyes fixed ahead, his cloak shimmering with what looked like stars from the night sky.

Beyond him flew other Drifters, their shadowy faces visible beneath their hoods. Frosty soldiers followed as well, their light blue armor glinting in the filtered sunlight. Only the twin heralds and Archlord Alyxandria wore armor that looked as if it had been carved from ice itself.

"Stay out of this fight," Archimedes shouted to her, not turning to look at her.

The command surprised her. “I’m not going to just sit around and do nothing!” Ariana replied, her voice sharper than intended, hands shaking from a mixture of anticipation and fear.

“I…sense something strong ahead,” Archimedes said, his tone grave.

Ariana's heart skipped. "Stronger than you?"

Archimedes narrowed his eyes, the flame of his face flickering more intensely. "I'm not sure."

Ariana swallowed a lump.

Whatever the case, their goal remained clear—locate Kazro, help him escape, get him back to Gaian City. With these clouds, they should be able to pick him up and zoom away before the Plague Lord's forces could react.

“Maintain your distance from the fight,” Archimedes said. “Look for Kazro. I’ll make sure to stay close, just in case anyone attacks.”

Ariana gripped her cloud tighter, gritting her sharp teeth. She suddenly felt like a third wheel—useless, a liability to be protected rather than an asset in the coming fight.

In her peripheral vision, she caught Archimedes watching her.

"Don't assume you're useless," he said softly.

Her heart skipped, and she glanced over at him.

"We're not through with your growth," Archimedes said. “Those powers you have, your new abilities…I hope you know that they're amazing.”

Pip popped up. “I told him all about it!”

Ariana offered a strained smile before looking straight ahead, toward those flashing lights.

"I see how people stare at you," Archimedes continued, his voice carrying clearly despite the wind rushing past. "I see the fear in their eyes.” He paused a moment. “I know exactly how that feels.”

Something in his tone made her throat tighten, her eyes burn. She didn't look at him, didn’t respond, but his words touched something deep within her heart. It was true—she had seen how people looked at Drifters, how they feared their mysterious nature.

Archimedes wasn’t just breathing hot air.

He had experience.

"I am with you, Ariana," Archimedes said, his voice gentling further.

The tears she held back now raced down her cheeks. She was still shaking, but now from emotion rather than fear. Pip nuzzled against her neck, the wisp's warmth a small comfort.

"A metamorphosis such as yours is shocking, I know," Archimedes said. "You're probably still reeling from the transformation. Just know that when the shock fully wears off, I'm here for you. I'm with you. We're a family, and I'll never abandon you."

Ariana nodded, fresh tears streaming down her face as she continued to stare straight ahead. They were closer to those flashing lights now, much closer. Though, she was distracted now. Distracted by the warmth swelling in her chest—for Archimedes, for this strange, unexpected friend who’d become like family, and for Pip, who offered comfort without words when emotions became too much, too tight to express.

They passed the final trees and burst over a clearing that looked as if it had been blown apart. Splintered trunks and fallen trees lay scattered across the ground. Large insects ranging from the size of dogs to horses lay dead in pools of sickly green blood. Soldiers in armor with lizard heads and scaly arms—all radiating that same toxic green—littered the battlefield. Craters pockmarked the earth, and at the far end of the clearing, another brilliant golden flash erupted. She looked just in time to see bugs and soldiers fly through the air, crying out as they were flung aside.

And there, as the center of it all, was Kazro, shining like the sun, scythe extended as he rode atop what looked like a…wolf? Ariana blinked in confusion. The creature was massive, multiple tails streaming behind it as it ran, its eyes a purple-crimson. This couldn't be Scarlet—the small fox she remembered—could it?

She glimpsed two others riding with Kazro—Kli'Taka and a radiant green figure she didn't recognize. Kazro urged his mount toward a figure in spiky armor rising from a crater, his power radiating like a beacon of corruption.

Before she could take in more details, a discordant screech tore through the air. Ariana glanced over to see dozens of insects jutting toward her. They came from seemingly nowhere, buzzing wings carrying them straight for her, mandibles snapping hungrily as they closed in, their eyes fixed on fresh prey.

Chapter 12 - Mind Core

I swung my scythe in three consecutive arcs, activating Crescent Strike each time, hurtling gold-emerald energy toward Tenebris.

The Archlord's toxic-green aura expanded as he watched my attacks approach, his three eyes narrowed with calculation. The sharp spikes jutting from the joints of his armor gleamed in the sunlight, and what I initially thought was hair writhed like living snakes.

With inhuman speed, he twisted his body, executing a perfect flip that carried him over my first two crescents. The third he met with a punching motion, his fist encased in venomous green energy. A thick serpent composed of toxic mist shot from his knuckles, colliding with my attack.

The explosion shook the clearing, but Tenebris wasn't done. The single snake shattered into dozens of smaller ones, all hissing and lunging toward us.

“Group Shield!”

[Group Shield]

[Type: Area Protection | Radius: 10 feet | Burnout: 35%]

[Effect: Divine dome reducing ally damage by 40%]

[Special: Must remain stationary to maintain]

A dome of emerald-gold light erupted around us, encasing Scarlet, Kli'Taka, Vireth, and me in its protective glow. The serpents crashed against it, their poisonous forms dissipating.

I took a deep breath, activating my meditation technique—tapping into my Mind Core. The world slowed around me as my mind cleared, thoughts flowing with crystalline precision. Confidence and calm washed through me, replacing the adrenaline-fueled rush of combat with something steadier, more certain.

[Meditation (10) (Expert) (0/100)]

[Mind Core (Level 10)]

[Mental Defense: +50% resistance to illusions, mind control, and psychic attacks]

[Thought Speed: Processes information 10x faster, allowing instant battle analysis]

[Memory Fortress: Perfect recall of all experiences, even from altered realities]

[Mental Projection: Can shatter illusions and disrupt enemy thought patterns with force]

With my enhanced perception, I watched Tenebris spinning in a tight circle, mist gathering around him as he prepared his next attack. My mind raced through potential counters, analyzing patterns and probabilities at ten times normal speed.

"He's channeling an area effect," Gaia warned. "Hit him before he completes it!"

I nodded, drawing on both Kli'Taka's and Scarlet's abilities simultaneously.

[Bond: Scarlet - 72%/100% Burnout]

[Bond: Kli'Taka - 70%/100% Burnout]

[Combined Ability: Stone Confusion]

I jumped off Scarlet’s back and slammed my fist into the ground, sending a psychic wave rippling through the earth. The soil cracked and split, rocky spires erupting upward beneath Tenebris even as the mental component invaded his mind.

The Archlord staggered, his rhythm broken, but recovered faster than I'd anticipated. He thrust both fists outward, toxic slime erupting from his knuckles just as my attack connected.

The resulting explosion knocked me backward. I flipped through the air, using the momentum to my advantage, landed in a sliding crouch that carved furrows in the earth. Nearby, Scarlet rolled to her feet, shaking her head to clear it. Kli'Taka landed beside her, hissing through sharp teeth. Vireth engaged another herald, thrusting a spear of acidic energy through the herald's chest. Insects and armored lizard people surrounded us on all sides.

A cold wind buffeted my face. I looked up, heart skipping as I spotted hundreds of sky-blue clouds streaking overhead. Drifters wearing crescent-shaped masks and five-pointed star masks rode the clouds, their cloaks fluttering like banners. Warriors in light blue armor flanked them, their weapons gleaming with frost.

Though, my attention was on the hooded folk, eyes widening. So many Drifters—and what were they doing here?

Green insects launched off the ground and swarmed upward, trying to intercept the newcomers. Heralds of the Plague Lord leapt skyward as well, launching attacks at the cloud-riders.

Blinding green light made me flinch, and I found Archlord Tenebris flying straight toward me.

A blur of motion caught my eye—someone shooting down like a comet, crashing into the Archlord. Blue and green light exploded on impact as they blasted away, carving a new furrow.

Two familiar figures circled high above, their frost-white skin and ice-like armor unmistakable. Sveric saluted me with a formal gesture, while Nyvara—her blue eyes shining—actually winked at me. My heart leapt, something tight inside uncoiling. I feared they’d died last week, but here they were, alive!

I started to move, when pain spiked through my body. I staggered, gritting my teeth.

[Burnout: 712%/800%]

The number was dropping steadily thanks to my crown's ability, but I'd pushed myself too far, too fast.

A streak of reddish-blue light suddenly zipped around me. I flinched, spinning to face it—then froze in recognition.

"Pip!" I shouted, joy bursting through despite the pain.

“Kazro!” she buzzed around my head, her voice chipper as always, though tinged with panic. "Archimedes and Ariana are in danger!"

My heart stuttered. "They're here!"

I immediately tuned into my bonds, scanning the battlefield where warriors in light blue armor clashed with insects and lizard-people in acid green. I sensed them now—familiar energy signatures pulsing with power, but also something new, something stronger.

Pip was already zipping away, a streak of light guiding me across the chaotic field. Scarlet approached and I swung onto her back, Kli'Taka leaping up behind me. With a kick to her sides, we were off, racing through the fray.

My Transcendent Slingshot materialized beside me, hovering. It fired continuously, emerald-gold bullets blowing craters in the earth, launching enemies and helping clear a path.

Heart pounding, sweat slicking my skin, I looked around at the raging battle. Drifters with crescent and star masks launched glittering attacks that resembled shards of night sky, bursting bugs into stardust. Others in wide-brimmed hats and amber robes hurled fiery projectiles that reduced enemies to ash.

“Hurry!” Pip shouted up ahead.

That sent a shock of panic through me, so I transferred stamina to Scarlet through my hands, feeling her speed increase. Rising up on her back, I scanned the opposite end of the clearing—and there they were. Archimedes and Ariana, surrounded by insects and heralds.

“Hold on!” I told Kli'Taka, casting a shield around both her and Scarlet. Then I crouched, muscles tensing. With a deep breath, I kicked off with a burst of power, flying toward my friends, wind whipping my hair.

As I drew closer, time seemed to slow.

Archimedes stood back-to-back with Ariana, his face a flickering mass of dark blue flame beneath his wide-brimmed hat. His cloak rippled around him, seeming to have been torn directly from the night sky, stars glittering within its fabric.

And then, my eyes fell on Ariana—and my heart nearly stopped.

Her skin was deathly pale, eyes glowing yellow with cat-like slits for pupils. Sharp fangs pressed against her lips, and eight massive spider legs arced from her back like a cage of chitin. She was still recognizably Ariana, but transformed into something…else.

The shock rippling through me evaporated instantly as I saw one of the heralds lunge toward her, toxic energy gathered in his fist.

"NO!" I screamed, slamming into the ground and sliding forward. I thrust my Transcendent Shield out, deflecting the attack upward where it exploded against a swarm of insects, vaporizing them instantly.

Emerald Tempest

•Type: Wide AoE | Radius: 25 feet | Damage: 100 (per second) | Burnout: 50%

•Effect: Summons a spinning vortex of emerald shards that lasts 5 seconds.

•Special: Targets within the vortex are slowed by 30% and take increased Burnout-based damage.

I spun in place, unleashing a whirlwind of emerald energy that formed a tornado of slicing force around us. The air filled with screaming insects and heralds as my attack tore through them, shredding wings and armor alike.

The effort drained me. My burnout spiked higher, and I staggered, sweat pouring down my face as the tornado dissipated.

“Kazro!” Archimedes said, catching me before I could fall.

Ariana was there too, reaching for my other arm. When our eyes met, she flinched back, wincing as if struck. I saw shame flash across her features.

I stared, panting, feeling nothing but a rising sense of relief. She was alive. Archimedes was alive. And that’s all that mattered in that moment.

“The team reunites at last!” Gaia said beside me, his small form glowing bright.

Before I could speak, an explosion erupted nearby, the shockwave throwing us apart. I hit the ground hard, rolling to absorb the impact, and sprang back to my feet. Gaia materialized beside me again, crackling.

Archlord Tenebris stood at the heart of the destruction, his armor dented and rimmed with frost. Blood trickled down his face, which was no longer calm but contorted with rage. His three eyes locked onto me, burning with hatred.

He launched forward at an angle. I tensed, then dodged aside—only to realize too late he wasn't aiming for me.

Ariana.

He was going for Ariana.

Panic exploded in my chest. My burnout was too high for transcendent techniques, and I needed something powerful, something immediate—something that would stop him cold.

So I reached for a darker power.

[Vlindakh's Mark (Curse)]

[Corruption Level: 57%/100%]

Essence Devourer (Active – Energy Drain / XP Absorption)

◦Drains 5% of the target’s max HP per second.

◦Kazro gains XP equal to 5x the target’s level per second.

◦Cost: 35% Corruption + 20 MP per second.

My right arm blackened, veins of crimson pulsing beneath the skin as I launched toward Tenebris. The Archlord had already slammed into Ariana, one hand gripping her arm, the other clutching her skull.

I slammed my corrupted palm against his back, darkness already spreading into his armor, but not yet beginning to drain.

Tenebris glared down at me over his shoulder. “I’ll crush her skull if you don't back down!”

Cold terror flooded through me. Ariana—my only friend from Earth, the girl who'd been with me from the beginning—screamed in as his grip tightened.

My mind raced through options. I could put a solo shield around her, could share my defense—but would it be enough against an Archlord's strength?

Herald! Gaia shouted in my mind, swirling around me in agitation. You can make her a herald! The realization hit me like lightning. I had that power—the ability to elevate my allies, to transform them into something greater.

Herald’s Awakening (Ally Empowerment – Range: Touch – Burnout: 75%)

◦Bestows an ally with the title of Herald, increasing their stats by 75%.

◦Grants them a unique ability based on their class.

◦Transformation takes 28 hours and consumes vast amounts of energy.

Tenebris began to squeeze. Ariana screamed. I screamed too, activating Solo Shield, transferring my defense, and simultaneously pulling on the power of my crown.

[Herald Transformation Initiated]

Ariana flashed with brilliant gold-green light as I poured my energy into her, even as I fully activated Essence Devourer, beginning to drain Tenebris's very life through my corrupted hand.

Our shrieks mingled as light and darkness erupted around us, the very air seeming to tear apart.

Chapter 13 - His Darker Half

The hand engulfing Ariana’s head began to squeeze, and she screamed. In that moment, three things happened.

First, her defense skyrocketed, flesh tightening as if her skin suddenly turned to steel. Second, a shield materialized around her—not the typical orb-like force field, but a skin-tight barrier that hugged every contour of her body. Third, a glowing warmth blossomed in her gut, expanding like a miniature sun.

Golden-green light radiated from her skin, growing in intensity until it burst from her in a brilliant flash. Heat shot up her spine, her back arching, a scream tearing from her throat—more from shock than pain. The sensation was unlike anything she'd ever experienced, a beautiful warmth flowing through every cell.

As her vision cleared, she found Archlord Tenebris glaring at her with his three eyes, hand gripping her head but unable to crush her skull. The force field around her cracked under the pressure but held firm.

Then, she noticed something else—darkness spreading up the Archlord's neck, flowing from his shoulders. Kazro stood behind the man, pushing a shadowy hand into the Archlord's spine. His arm was completely black, crimson veins pulsing beneath the surface.

Ariana's gaze traveled to Kazro's face, seeing him clearly for the first time. One side glowed golden-emerald, his eye radiating pure light. But the other half of his face had darkened, the skin bruised-looking, the eye burning blood-red. Mist burst from his open mouth as he roared with effort.

She wasn't the only one who had changed.

A flash of brilliant blue light interrupted the moment as a tall figure in icy armor streaked through the air, slamming a frost-covered fist into Archlord Tenebris. Icy mist exploded on impact, the Archlord blasting away like a comet. His attacker—a woman, judging by her build—launched after him.

Ariana staggered, her spider legs instinctively reaching out to steady her. She stood frozen in place, stunned and shocked, eyes wide and mouth hanging open. Slowly, she looked down at herself, seeing the emerald-gold light still radiating from her flesh.

[Herald Transformation: 1/100%]

[Transformation completes in 27:59:42]

Kazro groaned, drawing her attention. He sagged, then suddenly collapsed, hitting the ground with a dull thud.

"Kazro!" she shouted, rushing to his side. Her spider legs arched around him as she dropped to her knees beside him, forming a chitinous cage of protection. She grabbed his shoulders but pulled back sharply. Her palms tingled unpleasantly, as if she'd thrust them into static electricity.

Her heart hammered as she shouted, "Kazro! KAZRO!"

His eyes fluttered, but he didn't respond.

Shouts and explosions made her flinch. All around them, the battle continued. Drifters formed a protective circle, holding back lizard warriors and massive insects with bursts of starlight and fire. Archimedes stood nearby, throwing out blue flames, his cloak flapping in the magical backlash. His attention was fixed on the direction Archlord Tenebris had flown.

"We need to get him out of here!" Ariana shouted at Archimedes, who hurried over, pulling out a cloud from his cloak.

"My thoughts exactly!" a familiar voice boomed.

Ariana flinched, looking up to see Gaia materializing above Kazro, his small form composed of swirling golden-green mist. The god pointed at her, smirking. “Love the new look.”

Her heart skipped. The casual comment about her transformation—her pale face, fangs, and legs—hit a raw nerve. She was about to snap back when Gaia continued: "We need to get to Gaian City immediately."

A burst of heat announced another arrival. Ariana flinched again, her chest clenching up as she wrapped her arms around Kazro, holding him close, glancing toward the newcomer.

A Drifter—taller than the others, with a very wide-brimmed hat and eyes like twin fireballs—stood nearby. The pattern along his golden-amber robes seemed to dance like actual flames. He looked toward Gaia, then slowly sank to one knee, pushing his gloved fists together in a gesture of reverence.

"God of the Harvest," he said in a crackling, resonant voice.

Gaia puffed up, a smug smile spreading across his misty face. "Sage of the Sundust Reaches," the god replied. "Your presence is…unexpected, to say the least. But most appreciated."

The sage bowed even lower, radiating a heat so intense Ariana began to sweat. Though, she could care less, a light expanding in her chest. This powerful being had come through the astral plane with Archimedes. Without her decision to bring the Drifters through, he wouldn’t be here right now—none of the Drifters would.

"We need to get this boy to Gaian City," Gaia said, gesturing toward Kazro.

Ariana noticed Drifters bringing over more clouds. She still held Kazro close, his body limp in her arms. Cradling him close to her chest, she rose to her feet, surprised by her own strength—she lifted him effortlessly. Yet, the part of him touched by darkness buzzed against her skin unpleasantly, like holding a low-voltage wire.

A strange sort of relief washed through her as she studied his transformation. The darkness that had claimed half his body, the subtle changes to his face—they were disturbing, yes, but she wasn't alone anymore. There was an odd sense of comfort knowing she wasn't the only one who’d been changed by this world, twisted into something other than human.

The darkness on his arm seemed to be spreading, however, sticking to her like tar. What is this? Will it hurt me? She carefully set him back down, wincing as the substance clung to her arms.

"The corruption is active," Gaia muttered, floating closer. "We need to contain it."

Ariana nodded, focusing on her newly gained abilities.

[Ariana] Level 30
• Health (HP): 190/190
• Magic (MP): 200/200
• Attack: 42
• Defense: 65

[Herald Transformation: 1.5/100%]

[Transformation completes in 27:57:24]

[Race: Arachnid/Gaian Hybrid]

[Racial Abilities:]

• Web Spinning – Generate and manipulate spider silk for offense, defense, and mobility.

●     Web Barricade: Creates a silk barrier with HP equal to 50% of Ariana’s Defense (32 HP), lasting 5 turns or until destroyed (Cooldown: 3 turns).

●     Silken Bindings: Reduces a target’s movement speed by 50% for 3 turns; strength-based enemies can break free with an attack roll exceeding Ariana’s Attack + 10 (Cooldown: 4 turns).

●     Tether Swing: Allows Ariana to grapple or swing, increasing Evasion by 20% for 1 turn (No cooldown).

●     Venomous Threads: Weaves silk laced with venom, applying Poisoned (5% Max HP damage per turn for 3 turns) on contact (Costs 15 MP, Cooldown: 5 turns).

• Enhanced Senses – Sensory input increased by 50%, allowing Ariana to:

●     Hear whispers up to 30 meters away.

●     Detect vibrations through surfaces up to 10 meters.

●     Smell blood, poisons, and magical auras at double the normal range.

●     Danger Sense: Grants a +10% chance to detect hidden enemies or incoming attacks.

• Night Vision – Perfect sight in darkness up to 100 meters, including magical darkness.

• Web Walking – Immunity to sticky substances, including natural and magical adhesives, terrain hazards like quicksand or tar, and enchanted bindings. Allows her to walk on walls and ceilings effortlessly.

• Poison Immunity – Complete resistance to all poisons and toxins, including:

●     Natural venom (e.g., snakes, scorpions, spiders).

●     Alchemical toxins (e.g., potions, paralytic poisons).

●     Magical poisons (e.g., necrotic or cursed venom).

• Rapid Regeneration – Accelerated healing based on environment.

●     Out of combat: Regenerates 2% Max HP per second while stationary.

●     In combat: Regenerates 5 HP per turn.

●     Cocooned Stasis: If reduced to 0 HP, enters a defensive cocoon, restoring 30% HP over 5 turns if not disturbed (Cooldown: Once per day).

• Spider Agility – Reflexes and speed are twice that of a human, granting +15% Evasion against melee and projectile attacks.

●     Wall Sprint: Allows for short bursts of 3× movement speed for 2 seconds along vertical or inverted surfaces (Cooldown: 2 turns).

●     Web Acceleration: Uses webbing to slingshot herself, tripling her jump distance.

• Shadowmeld – Blends into darkness, gaining stealth-based abilities.

●     Dusk Veil: Grants Invisibility in shadows for 2 turns, ending if Ariana attacks (Costs 10 MP, Cooldown: 5 turns).

●     Void Step: Teleports up to 15 meters through shadows (Costs 20 MP, Cooldown: 4 turns).

●     Creeping Terror: Activates when motionless in darkness for 2 turns, granting +20% Intimidation against unaware enemies.

• Venomous Bite – Fangs deliver toxic venom with various effects.

●     Toxic Embrace: Applies Poisoned status, dealing 5% Max HP damage per turn for 3 turns (Cooldown: 4 turns).

●     Crippling Fang: Causes Confusion for 2 turns if the target is below 50% HP (Costs 10 MP).

●     Neurotoxin Strike: Delivers a stronger venom, causing Paralysis (Target loses 1 turn) (Costs 25 MP, Cooldown: 6 turns).

• Lunar Empowerment – Strengthened by moonlight, increasing Attack, Defense, and HP Regeneration by 30%.

●     Celestial Weave: Infuses silk with lunar energy, increasing web attack damage by 50% and ignoring 20% of the target’s Defense for 3 turns (Costs 25 MP, Cooldown: 6 turns).

●     Moonlit Awakening: During full moons, reduces ability costs by 50%, and Ariana’s strength and speed increase by 50%.

• Solar Vulnerability – Direct sunlight weakens Ariana, causing -10% Attack and Defense.

●     Shaded Resilience: Reduces penalties by 50% when in partial cover (e.g., forests, buildings).

●       Twilight Mantle: Can be activated to negate sunlight penalties at a cost of 10 MP per turn.

She extended her hands, spider silk shooting from her palms. She carefully wrapped Kazro's darkened half in webbing, creating a partial cocoon that contained the spreading corruption. The silk hardened almost instantly, creating a barrier between them.

"We'll need to split up," Archimedes said, and everyone looked at him. "I can shroud Kazro, but if we're all clustered, it'll be hard to hide. We need to all go different ways, eventually converging on Gaian City."

“Excellent idea,” Gaia said, pointing at the Drifter. “And, a distraction is in order.”

He held out a hand, and Kazro's scythe materialized, followed by his crown. "Someone needs to carry these on their cloud. As we separate, any archlords or heralds hunting us will be drawn to these."

Ariana lifted Kazro carefully, carrying him to her cloud. She laid him down gently, then scraped the darkness that had stuck to her arms off onto the cloud's misty surface, where it dissipated harmlessly.

She climbed up beside him, crouching low and resting a hand on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart. Her own pulse quickened at the proximity. Despite everything—his transformation, her own monstrous appearance—the attraction remained. In fact, it had grown stronger in their time apart.

As she watched Kazro, a memory surfaced—the Queen's words, her insistence that Ariana take over Gaian City…that she marry Kazro. At the time, it had seemed so unexpected, so impossible. Now, with her hand on his chest and her heart racing, it didn't seem quite so far-fetched. Her cheeks warmed at the thought.

Gaia directed each person, assigning directions and routes. "We're not heading straight to Gaian City—that would be too obvious. We'll each take a different path, eventually converging there."

Around them, the battlefield was littered with the corpses of insects and warriors, the fighting moving where Archlord Tenebris had been punched away.

Everyone was mounting clouds—Drifters, blue armored warriors, and their allies. Kli'Taka and Scarlet joined another cloud nearby, the fox-wolf's multiple tails swishing anxiously as she kept her eyes on her master.

Archimedes moved his cloud beside Ariana's, his blue face flickering with concern. "Stay low, stay fast," he advised. "I'll be close by, though you won't always see me."

Ariana nodded, tightening her grip on Kazro.

Archimedes touched her forehead, and a path opened to her mind. “Take this route.”

She nodded, a map materializing on her interface, showing her the way to go. Holy crap, that’s a long trail.

Gaia hovered before them all, surveying the assembled groups with a general's eye. "Ready?" the god called, lifting a misty hand. "GO!"

The clouds shot off in different directions, spreading out like seeds in the wind. Ariana's own cloud streaked away, taking the longest, most circuitous route toward Gaian City—and safety.

Chapter 14 - Finally Home

Why was someone hissing? It sounded like a broken sprinkler, constant and irritating. As consciousness crept back, I realized the sound wasn't coming from anywhere outside, but from deep within my skull.

Venomous rage pulsed—an emotion that wasn't mine. It radiated from the depths of my brain, from the god trapped inside. I felt a spike of panic as I sensed a sudden intensity of Vlindakh's hatred, stronger than ever before.

[Vlindakh's Mark (Curse)]

[Corruption Level: 67%/100%]

I began sucking in deep breaths, though I could barely feel my body. I hovered at the edge of consciousness, neither fully awake nor completely gone. Still, I forced myself to breathe deeply, activating my meditation technique. It felt like trying to breathe through fabric, but I persisted.

Very distant whispers reached me, a voice so laced with hate that my soul shuddered.

Do not think you can contain me. The voice, though barely audible, dripped with malice. I continued breathing, feeling warmth slowly return to my tingling fingers and toes, gradually climbing through my hands and feet.

No mortal can contain a god. I will find a way. I will break out.

I focused on my breathing—in and out, in and out—though my heart pounded harder. Warmth flooded up my arms and into my chest. As Vlindakh tried to continue his threats, another voice cut through.

"Shut up!" Gaia shouted, then laughed.

The darkness in my mind evaporated.

"Keep it up, kid!" Gaia encouraged. "That was one hell of a fight back there."

Memory crashed into me—the battle, the Archlord, Ariana with his hand around her skull. I flinched, my meditation hiccuping before I forced myself back into rhythm. Ariana! Archimedes? Are they—

"Safe," Gaia assured me. “They’re close by. We're bringing you to Gaian City.”

I let out a long sigh, my tense muscles relaxing, the curse meter dropping steadily.

[Vlindakh's Mark (Curse)]

[Corruption Level: 67%/100%]

[Corruption Level: 65%/100%]

[Corruption Level: 62%/100%]

[+2,500 XP]

[Total XP: 11,440]

Excitement bubbled up at the notification. That was a substantial haul—enough to feed one of my vestments or significantly boost my allies. I weighed the options, thinking about my friends and how much they'd grown.

As consciousness trickled in some more, I could sense my bonds nearby, all my friends close, and my heart skipped with relief. I tried to move, suddenly aware of something constricting me. As I shifted, gentle hands scratched down my face, pulling back strands of…something.

I blinked, vision clearing to reveal a familiar yet transformed face. Ariana—but different. A subtle green-gold glow emanated from her skull, visible through pale skin. Her eyes were cat-like slits, fangs pressing against her lips. A streak of white ran through her dark hair, and eight spider legs arced from her back like a grotesque halo.

My jaw hung  as I stared, nausea rippling through me. This was Ariana, but also…not.

She cringed at my reaction, looking away. I immediately felt like the world's biggest jerk. I tried to sit up, but couldn’t. “Hold still.” She began peeling away what I now realized were webs wrapped around me.

When the majority was gone, I sat up. Wind blew against my face as I looked around. We were flying through a forest, the trees tall and almost red in the fading light, their leaves glistening. Evening was falling—how long had I been out?

"We're taking the long way to Gaian City,” Ariana explained before I could ask. Her voice was the same, even if everything else had changed.

“The very long way,” Gaia confirmed, materializing beside me. I glanced at the god, then back to Ariana.

I wanted to say something, wanted to talk, but an odd sort of discomfort squirmed in my chest. She looked away, mouth opening but saying nothing. In the distance, I spotted Archimedes on a distant cloud, Scarlet and Kli'Taka on yet another.

"Ariana," I said, pushing through the tightness in my chest, feeling utterly stupid for my initial reaction. "Ariana!"

I pulled her into an embrace, though it was awkward with those spider legs jutting from her back. I was also unsure how to hug with my darkened arm, worried it might harm her. We ended up in a strange half-embrace, familiar yet foreign.

Clearing my throat, I gently pulled back. "What…happened?" I asked, trying my best not to sound disturbed, though I felt deeply unsettled.

She hesitated before explaining—how she'd been bitten while on the border of the Eldritch King's territory, how she'd nearly died, how the transformation had taken hold. I was about to respond, when I noticed something. A glowing notification hovering beside her:

[Herald Transformation: 10/100%]

My heart skipped, excitement burning away most of that unsettled squirming in my guts. I laughed, bursting free from the remaining webs, and fiercely embraced her again. This time she returned it just as fiercely.

Any worries rising within suddenly faded. She was becoming a Herald—ascending to a new level of power. And besides, this was Ariana! Despite the transformation, she was still herself.

Still my best friend—my only friend—from Earth.

Archimedes approached, his cloud drifting alongside ours. "Good to see you conscious," he said, his flaming-face flickering with what I'd learned to recognize as a smile.

“Indeed!” Gaia said, floating between. “Our resident fainting goat returns to the land of the living.”

I laughed, genuinely happy to see the Drifter. One who was far more powerful—and changed! Damn, where did that fire of his come from? Where were the shadowy features I once knew?

I immediately wondered if I could transform him into a herald as well, the way I'd started with Ariana.

[Only one Herald can be transforming at a time]

As I read the notification, a wave of wooziness washed over me. I tried to balance myself, but quickly plopped down onto the cloud, grabbing my forehead as pulsing pain flared behind my eyes.

[While someone is in the process of becoming a herald, your energy is significantly drained]

"That's why you fainted back there," Gaia explained, noticing my confusion. “Transforming someone saps your strength. It'll get easier as you grow stronger, but for now…” He swirled out in front of me, pointing accusingly. "You gotta stop fainting! Yes, push yourself, but stop dropping unconscious. I need you awake, alright?"

Another cloud approached, carrying Kli'Taka and Scarlet. Pip buzzed excitedly around them. "Kazro! You're awake!"

“Pip!” I wanted to embrace them all, but held my darkened arm back, squeezing my hand into a fist. My eyes pricked with unexpected emotion. Because…why? Because we’re all back together… Gosh, I hated how we all separated last week, how I'd lost track of them.

"Promise me," I said suddenly, my voice rougher than intended. "Promise we won't separate ever again. No matter what."

“Unfair!” Gaia shouted, though there was a hint of playfulness in his voice. “You cannot force them to keep a promise they can’t keep.”

“We promise,” Archimedes said, and Pip nodded, as did Ariana, her own eyes growing misty. Kli'Taka grinned, her pearl-like eyes gleaming and Scarlet grunted her agreement, tails swishing behind her.

I nodded, closing my eyes. “Thank you…”

As we continued flying across the forest on our clouds, I took a deep breath, then sat back up, looking around at my gathered friends—my people, my family. The realization struck with surprising force: these weren't just allies anymore.

Somewhere along this journey, they'd become my home.

And after everything we went through, we were together again. Warmth blossomed in my chest. The relief was almost overwhelming.

I wanted to simply sit there, and bask in it. But there was another question on my mind—one I couldn’t hold back. “What happened with Tenebris?” I asked, turning to Archimedes.

"The Frost Baroness's forces were fighting him when we left," he explained. "Alyxandria—the Baroness's Archlord—helped only because she wanted to speak with you."

"She's the lesser of two evils," Gaia added, "but make no mistake—any monarch who gets their hands on you will try to make you a slave.”

"Most likely through a soul contract," Archimedes said grimly.

"A contract?" I asked.

Gaia nodded. "Any Wielder stronger than you can bind your soul in a contract. Once bound, you must obey their commands or your soul will fracture."

I winced at the thought, glancing at my map, grimacing at how far away we were from Gaian City. Knowing there were monarchs on my tail, I wanted to get there as fast as possible. “Is there any way we can take a more direct route to Gaian City?”

“We need to take this route,” Archimedes said. “Trust me, we want to get you there fast, too.”

“I need to find the rest of Gaia’s vestments.”

“And the sage will help you with that. He can tune into the astral plane and locate their exact positions, with you and Gaia present.”

A buzzing excitement surged through my veins, along with a growing sense of urgency. The sooner we reached Gaian City, the sooner we could find those armaments and increase our power.

[Quest: Five Missing Pieces]

[Gaia’s divine armaments are scattered throughout the region. It is your job to find them all]

[Objective: Locate all five of Gaia’s divine armaments and Transcend each one]

[Progress: 2/5 located, 0/5 Transcended]

[Reward: Ultimate Transcendence]

I tried to stand again, eager to speed our journey, but lightheadedness forced me back down.

Ariana rested a hand on my side, steady and reassuring. Her touch sent lightning through me—the same jolt I felt the day we reunited, back in that cafeteria.

But now, it tangled with something else, something I hated myself for feeling. The cat-like eyes, the delicate fangs, the spider limbs—my mind knew this was still Ariana, but some primal part of me recoiled.

No. What the hell is wrong with you? Don’t feel this way.

I looked at her, really looked. Those were still her eyes, despite their altered shape—the same eyes that had rolled at my stupid jokes, that lit up before every battle. The curve of her smile hadn't changed, nor had the way she tucked her hair behind her ear when nervous.

My chest ached, not with uncertainty but with something deeper, more powerful. Every instinct to protect her, every flutter when she’d laughed, every moment we'd shared—they all rushed through me at once.

And I realized with startling clarity that my feelings hadn't just remained; they'd grown stronger.

She smiled at me then, a fragile, hopeful thing, before quickly looking away—her insecurity plain in the hunch of her shoulders, the way her new limbs curled inward as if trying to hide.

"You're still you," I whispered, too quietly for her to hear over the wind. "And I'm still me. Nothing changes that."

The war inside me wasn't between attraction and repulsion, but the love I felt growing and the fear of losing her. But as she leaned incrementally closer, I knew which side was winning.

“Hey,” Gaia said, startling me. “Just wanted to warn you, don’t summon your scythe.” The comment surprised me. "Your crown and scythe are on other clouds," he continued. "They're distracting any archlords or heralds hunting for you."

Only then did I notice the odd dampening around me. I glanced at Archimedes, who seemed to be the source of it, waves of subtle warmth radiating from him.

"I'm concealing your aura," he confirmed. "As long as you don't summon your vestments, we should be able to slip through undetected while they chase the decoys."

I nodded, grateful for their foresight. This was why I needed them—why we were stronger together than apart.

I settled back, arm tentatively wrapped around Ariana. Despite the strangeness of her transformation, despite my own half-corrupted body, there was a rightness to having her close. To having all of them close.

These were people I would fight for, die for if necessary. Something inside expanded in their presence, at the bond we shared. I was excited to return to Gaian City, to fulfill my role as Guardian of the Wilds, to prepare for the challenges ahead.

And I would face those challenges with my family beside me.

I took a deep breath, blew it out slowly, and slipped into meditation. My MP began regenerating, my burnout gauge dropping steadily as we soared through the night, heading home at last.

Chapter 15 - Traitor

Vireth sat up, shoving a dead insect off his chest. Blood drained from open wounds as he coughed, spitting onto the gore-soaked ground. His regeneration was taking longer than normal, his flesh knitting together at a sluggish pace.

He sat surrounded by carnage—dead soldiers with lizard-like features in shredded armor, massive insects with their carapaces split open, even several warriors in light blue armor lying motionless. The air hung heavy with the copper stench of blood and the acrid tang of insect fluids.

None of this would have happened if you’d have listened to me, Kazro… His hands clenched into fists, digging grooves into the soft earth. That Wielder—that stubborn, headstrong boy. If only he’d stayed hidden in that cave, to train and fight in secret.

And yet…

Kazro had faced down Archlord Tenebris, matching him blow for blow, holding his own. But, was it any wonder? Kazro had taken out a titan. Still, archlords were up there in power…

And Kazro had practically destroyed him.

But it wasn’t safe for him to fight out in the open, not with the Plague Lord out to get him.

Another cough racked his frame, more blood spattering the ground. Vireth growled, low and guttural, and turned to one of the massive dragonflies lying nearby. He crawled toward it, each movement sending spasms through his muscles. Reaching the creature, he clutched its still-warm flesh and activated a life-draining technique.

Needles shot from his palms, plunging into the insect's body. He began to suck, drawing blood and essence into himself. Warmth rushed through him, spreading from his palms to his chest, then to his gut. The sensation rippled beneath his skin like a hot bath after a cold night. His wounds began to close, torn flesh sealing itself, the throbbing pain dulling to a manageable ache.

Vireth glanced down at himself. His chainmail armor remained intact, but the rest of his clothing lay in tatters, destroyed in the fight. The armor itself was dented in places, dark with dried blood—both his and others'.

He rose shakily to his feet, shaking out his hands. Energy pulsed through him, stronger than before. His arms felt more solid, his spirit weightier, more substantial. This wasn't just from absorbing the bug's essence—something more profound had changed.

Without any of the Plague Lord's scrying lenses, he couldn't quantify his power growth precisely, but he'd been around long enough to recognize the signs. This fight, this past week, had bumped him up at least a couple dozen levels. Yet, the sobering reality remained—without the Plague Lord's blessing, he'd never become an archlord.

His stomach twisted into a cold knot. His fingers trembled. The magnitude of his choice—his decision to help Kazro—was fully sinking in.

There was no going back. No redemption.

No place for him in the Plague Lord's hierarchy anymore.

He was a traitor.

Vireth let out a shuddered breath as he scanned the battlefield, seeing no movement, no living soul. Just the aftermath of violence, the stillness of death. He drew in a deep breath and blew it out, expanding his aura senses as he strolled toward a collapsed plague warrior. He crouched beside the corpse and began stripping off its armor. The scaled plates were heavier than they looked, but would offer better protection than his tattered remnants.

As he worked, a distant pulse touched his senses—Gaia's steady beating drum. But then he detected another energy signature, this one farther away but moving in a different direction, not toward Gaian City like the first.

Vireth's brow furrowed, his hands pausing on the armor straps. Two signatures? Both Kazro’s? He could try and follow one or the other, but…

After a moment's hesitation, he decided to make for Gaian City. That was where Kazro wanted to go, and that's where Vireth needed to be. He resumed fitting the scavenged armor to his legs, continuing to expand his senses.

Then, he felt it—something else in the far distance to his left. The sensation was subtle at first, but growing, expanding. Vireth straightened, blood growing cold as he turned to look in that direction. His heart lodged in his throat, pupils constricting to pinpoints.

Through the trees, past hundreds of trunks reaching for the sky, he saw it—the horizon, turning toxic green, the color spreading like a disease across the sky.

A sign that the one he’d betrayed was coming.

Chapter 16 - Crushed

"Oh no," Gaia said, and I spun, eyes flashing open.

I sensed it too—a feather's touch, brushing over my spirit and leaving a stinging, sizzling sensation.

When I looked at Gaia, his face was flushing different colors—purple, crimson, sickly yellow. "Impossible!" he exploded, spinning to look eastward. "He shouldn't be here! He shouldn’t be here!”

A chill raced down my spine as realization dawned cold and heavy—Gaia didn't need to name who was coming.

I already knew.

"What's going on?" Ariana pressed close to me, her spider legs twitching anxiously. Archimedes and the Drifter carrying Kli'Taka and Scarlet edged their clouds closer.

Archimedes's flame-face flickered and expanded as his eyes widened to burning orbs.

The urge to summon my scythe and crown burned hot. I stood shakily on my billowing cloud, looking in the direction Gaia was glaring.

In the far distance, past countless trees, a toxic green mist expanded in the sky, spreading like a stain. As it drew closer, trees began to steam, bark cracking and falling away. The forest floor bubbled in places, as if poisonous water were seeping across it.

“The Plague Lord,” Gaia said through gritted teeth. “He’s here.”

My heart hammered against my ribs and I immediately summoned my scythe and crown. My aura radiated in an expansive golden-green dome, pushing back against the poisonous, toxic green light materializing around us.

I growled in frustration. “We stand and fight!”

Everyone nodded, but Gaia was massaging his forehead, muttering to himself, crackling with agitation and cursing under his breath. I could feel his complete and utter despair. And I felt it, too—the sickening realization that there was use fighting back, no use running.

A brilliant light flashed—a ripple through the air that shoved us backward and pushed against my aura. Several trees cracked, steamed, and fell apart as a figure emerged from the toxic mist.

The Plague Lord—a nightmare made flesh, his face concealed behind a long-beaked plague doctor's mask, the curved beak extending nearly a foot from his face. Dark eyeholes revealed nothing but a poisonous green glow where eyes should be, a hood draped over his head, falling in elegant folds to frame the mask.

His chest was bare, revealing a physique carved from centuries of battle—muscle layered upon muscle, not like a human's but something more, something enhanced by whatever power had transformed him. Most disturbing was his skin—a translucent membrane that revealed the outline of his skeleton beneath, bones glowing with that same toxic green energy. I could see his rib cage expanding with each breath, the outline of his spine shifting as he moved.

Fingerless gloves covered his hands to mid-forearm, inscribed with patterns that seemed to writhe and squirm, like parasites trapped beneath the material, his pants made of a material that seemed to absorb light rather than reflect it, cinched at the waist with an elaborate golden buckle shaped like intertwined serpents. His boots matched—black leather rising to his knees, reinforced with golden plates at toe and heel.

The cloak billowing behind him wasn't merely cloth but something alive, the edges constantly reshaping, tendrils occasionally extending before being reabsorbed. Mist coiled around him like a loyal pet, swirling particularly thick around his feet.

His very presence exuded an aura that pushed down on me, crushing against my own—the weight of a mountain, the pressure of an ocean's depths.

I shoved back, yelling as Gaia burst into mist, his voice joining mine in a deafening roar. I could feel my will cracking as I screamed louder and louder, glaring at the man hovering about a hundred feet away.

He chuckled, amused by our struggle. The pressure around me intensified, my defensive dome cracking under the strain.

“I had hoped to avoid a personal appearance.” His resonant voice echoed, layered as if multiple voices spoke as one. "But, then again, why expect anything less from the slayer of Shahar?” He tilted his masked head, the beak catching the light. "It seems I've underestimated you…again."

He spread his arms wide, an almost theatrical gesture. The gloves rippled as their disturbing patterns writhed with increasing agitation. He thrust both palms forward suddenly, and the spiritual pressure around me doubled, then tripled in intensity.

My protective dome shattered like glass. The force slammed me through the cloud's surface, driving the breath from my lungs. My vision sparkled with black dots as I plummeted, spiraling downward until I crashed into the forest floor with bone-shattering impact.

[Health: 986/1,960]

[Magic: 1,245/3,130]

[-50 HP]

[-50 MP]

[-50 HP]

[-50 MP]

[-50 HP]

[-50 MP]

My vitality drained away as though siphoned directly from my soul. The crushing pressure continued, pinning me to the ground, squeezing the consciousness from my mind. Above me, Gaia's rage exploded in a hurricane of golden-green mist, his howls of fury reverberating through the trees like thunder.

Bitter disappointment flooded my mouth. Not again. Not like this. I'd faced a titan and survived, and yet, here I was, fading into darkness at the mere presence of a monarch. As my vision tunneled and the world began to slip away, I heard Gaia's voice—no longer angry but desperate, pleading.

“KAZRO! FIGHT IT!”

I wanted to! I wanted to push against it and rise and slay this bastard!

But the darkness swallowed me whole, and I remembered no more.

Chapter 17 - Ticking Clock

Vireth peeked from around a tree, watching the harsh green light fade from the sky. He frowned, hesitating a moment before opening his spiritual senses.

Immediately, the Plague Lord's aura slammed into him—caustic and overwhelming, knocking him to the ground, burning his spiritual channels. He cried out, pulling back, but not before detecting another, familiar signature.

Gaia's aura—warm as sunlight through a forest canopy, rich as freshly turned soil. But something was wrong. The god's signature was brilliant and strong, yet the Lord enveloped it, smothering it.

Vireth's fingers dug into soil, splintering stones, his stomach twisting into knots.

The Plague Lord had captured Kazro.

The monarch would undoubtedly force him into a contract, binding him as a servant.

“Damnation…” He slammed his spiritual senses shut and shoved to his feet. “DAM-NATION!” He kicked the corpse of an insect, sending it skittering across the blood-soaked ground. The clearing around him remained littered with bodies—massive bugs, lizard warriors, and ice soldiers, remnants of the earlier battle.

“IDIOT!” he snarled, stomping away, fists clenched so tight his knuckles cracked. His entire body trembled with barely contained fire. "I told you to stay hidden. I told you!" Why hadn’t Kazro listened? Yes, he’d beaten a titan, but that didn’t mean he was invincible!

Vireth sucked in a deep breath, then blew it out slowly, forcing his racing thoughts to calm. It took minutes—tens of minutes, but eventually, he could think straight, but just barely.

He needed a plan—he needed to think!

The Frost Baroness had attempted to stop Shahar just last week. Perhaps he could curry favor by sneaking into the Plague Lord's territory to recover her divine vestment?

The mere thought sent shivers down his spine, his soul recoiling. He spat to one side, the acid sizzling as it ate into soil.

No, he wouldn’t go after her. Kazro was the one he’d risked betrayal for—the one he’d chosen to support

He blew out another harsh breath as he marched across the battlefield, surveying the carnage, mind awhirl. He adjusted the stolen armor along his torso, grateful that the residual aura helped mask his own signature—relieved that the Plague Lord seemed focused solely on Kazro, not hunting for his traitorous herald…

Eyes going wide, he stopped dead, a realization blooming in Vireth's mind, sudden and clear. Kazro had been trying to reach Gaian City—to use it as a focal point to locate the rest of Gaia's vestments.

Could Vireth do this for him?

Could he find the vestments while Kazro was captive?

His heartbeat quickened. Was that even possible? Wasn't Gaia the only one who could do that?

But there had to be more than one way. There had to be! Warmth flickered through his heart, his eyes widening. And…there was.

The Sundust Sage.

He’d seen him just moments earlier, blasting enemies apart, holding back hordes of insects. Someone that powerful—that close to the astral plane—was his best bet in finding the vestments. Because if he found them, Kazro would have a fighting chance against the monarchs, a chance to unite the Divided Kingdoms…

A chance to put an end to the Blight.

Senses open, Vireth tapped into the aura let off by Gaian City. Jaw set, he turned in that direction, clenching his hands into fists, heart pounding, body shaking. That damnable master of his would rue the day he turned on his people—the day he showed his true colors, proving he cared for no one else but his own sorry hide.

With a single powerful leap, he launched himself toward Gaian City, purpose burning in his veins.

The Plague Lord had Kazro.

The clock was ticking.

He needed to hurry.

Chapter 18 - Royalty

Archimedes sat cross-legged, meditating in his prison cell…if you could even call it that.

Lush emerald carpets cushioned the floor, their intricate patterns reminiscent squirming bacteria. The walls—painted in alternating shades of bright green and harsh yellow—gleamed with a polished finish. Elegant furniture carved from rare woods dotted the space: a four-poster bed with silken sheets, a writing desk inlaid with mother-of-pearl, and several plush chairs.

Taking a deep breath, he tasted the air—bitter, with a metallic undertone, permeated by the Plague Lord's distinctive aura. Fashionable runes etched along the walls pulsed with subtle energy, their purpose clear to his trained eye.

Containment sigils.

Anti-magic barriers.

Power dampeners.

At full strength, he could shatter them, blow the walls apart, perhaps even fend off several heralds and an archlord. But this was the Plague Lord's territory. Fighting him would be a death wish.

Though, he wondered what the monarch would do if he tried.

In his previous visits to Gloomswallow, the Blightmire, and other domains owned by the Plague Lord, Archimedes had noticed something peculiar. Instead of treating Drifters with discomfort or fear, like most people, they showed incredible respect, bordering on worship.

His current accommodations confirmed this. No chains. No traditional cell. Just a royal guest room with subtle safeguards.

But Archimedes hadn't come to be trapped, pampered, or placated.

He inhaled deeply, aura flowing through his enhanced flame-body in currents of energy. His physical form—composed of flickering blue fire—remained cloaked in his star-woven garment, its cosmic pattern shifting subtly. His trousers and boots remained intact, the small silver wings on the backs of his heels occasionally twitching.

He blew out, a profound calm settling over him as he tapped into his connection with Pip—that thread of awareness stretching across distance.

He sensed her presence, far but focused. A gentle tug on their bond.

Arca! Her voice materialized in his thoughts, chipper despite everything. I'm almost to Gaian City!

Let me know when you arrive, he thought back. I need to talk with the sage.

Will do!

His thoughts immediately turned to the Sundust Sage and the army of Drifters…and the Sa'Khari in the city, not to mention all the Gaians.

If they were fast enough, they could gather as one and march straight for—

His core pulsed, a spike of anxiety shooting through his channels. He shook his head, frowning. Had he really just considered, even for a moment, planning with the sage to march on Gloomswallow?

No…

No, he couldn’t do that. They couldn’t.

There had to be another way to get Kazro out of this mess. He wasn't sure how, but he knew it would involve the Sundust Sage—a being who could rival even monarchs, though to what extent remained uncertain.

He narrowed his eyes, taking in another breath of acrid aura. His royal treatment here was almost certainly due to his connection with such a powerful Drifter.

Royal treatment? Pip thought, startling him out of his contemplations. They give you a castle or something?

Before he could respond, the wall ahead of him liquefied—its solid surface melting to form a doorway. A woman in armor stepped through, her hair writhing centipedes, each strand moving with independent purpose. Mandibles protruded from the sides of her mouth, clicking softly, and her fingers ended in razor-sharp nails that resembled insect claws.

Archimedes maintained his calm, sitting up straighter as he met her gaze directly. To his mild surprise—though not entirely unexpected—the woman bowed.

"Our lord would be honored to have you in the upcoming council," she said, her voice buzzing slightly. "You'll be essential in convincing Kazro to commit to his…request."

Archimedes offered a subtle bow in return, though he remained seated, cross-legged. His eyes narrowed. Request? That seemed an odd word choice for a monarch, especially the Plague Lord. "I'll be honored to attend such a meeting," he said aloud, even as he sent a quick thought to Pip: Reach the sage as fast as you can. Tell him what's happening. Be prepared to stand by.

His curiosity was thoroughly piqued. There was something he didn't know, a missing piece of information, and he was about to discover what it was.

Rising to his feet, his star-woven cloak rippled around him like a slice of the night sky. His flaming form brightened as he summoned his staff, its length inscribed with glowing blue veins.

“Right this way,” the woman said, turning.

He followed the herald through the melted doorway, and into whatever game the Plague Lord was playing.

Chapter 19 - A Silent Oath

Ariana awoke to a brilliant gold-green light.

She squinted instinctively, expecting pain, but radiance bathed her eyes, warming her from the inside out.

A notification flickered at the edge of her vision:

[Herald Transformation: 47/100]

Something stirred in her chest—expanding, opening like a flower to the sun. A herald. She was becoming a herald. Kazro had done this to her, in that desperate moment when the Plague Lord—

She gasped.

The Plague Lord.

His arrival flashed through her mind—his overwhelming aura, her scream cut short. Then…darkness.

The notification faded as she shook. Despite everything, though, her mind felt sharp, her body energized. She touched her temple, marveling at how clear her thoughts were. Even then, her heart pounded.

Calm, Ariana. Be calm… Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath, drawing in the scent of fresh-cut grass. For an instant, she was back on Earth—running barefoot through her backyard, her mother calling from the kitchen window. The memory stung worse than any physical pain.

She pressed her hands against the floor, sitting up, feeling rough wood grain beneath her fingertips…

Fingertips, wrapped in coiling vines.

She blinked, eyebrows rising as she looked down at herself in wonder. Vines wrapped around her arms and fingers, tiny leaves sprouting from them. Her dress—once plain—now shimmered gold, leaves poking through the fabric.

A gentle humming vibrated through her bones, like standing too close to power lines. She flexed her fingers, watching the vines shift with her movement, then froze at the sight of black claws jutting from her fingertips.

She wasn't completely transformed, then.

Just…changing.

Twisting to look over her shoulder, she confirmed what she already knew. Her spider legs remained, twitching. But even they’d begun to change—their dark chitin now glimmering with emerald undertones, golden vines spiraling around their joints. Tiny leaves unfurled along their length, as if they were being claimed by the forest itself.

A fascinated shiver ran through her. How much further would this transformation go? What would she become when it finished? And…

And…

She frowned.

Her own breathing seemed loud in the stillness. Too loud. Wait… Where am I?

She looked up.

Wooden bars surrounded her on all sides.

She gasped, scrambling to her feet, spider legs instinctively flaring wide. The cell wasn't large—perhaps eight feet square—with bars forming walls on three sides. Behind her stood a solid wooden wall.

No window. No bed. Not even a blanket. Just her, alone in a wooden cage.

Beyond her cell stretched a hallway lined with similar enclosures, all empty. Despite the dimness, her enhanced vision picked out every detail—the grain of the wood, subtle glyphs carved into the bars, dust motes hanging suspended in the still air.

“…coming soon…must prepare…”

The muttering was so faint she almost missed it. Ariana went still, straining to hear. The voice came from the shadows at the far end of the hall, where her glow couldn't reach.

Something moved in that darkness. A figure unfolded from where it had crouched, rising with painful slowness. The muttering continued, incomprehensible but persistent.

As the figure shuffled forward, entering the edge of her light, Ariana's spine stiffened. Dark brown skin, wrinkled and weathered like ancient tree bark. Glowing amber eyes that seemed to burn from within. Thick lips moving continuously in silent conversation. Most striking was the foliage that burst from the figure's head, hanging down like living hair, shifting slightly as if blown by a breeze.

The figure wore clothing woven entirely from leaves, and a golden bracelet embedded with red-violet crystal encircled one bony wrist. He rubbed this bracelet obsessively as he approached, never breaking eye contact.

Ariana backed up until she hit the rear wall. There was something about those eyes—not the color or shape, but something deeper, something that reached past sight and scratched at the base of her brain.

She'd felt a similar sensation only once before: when she'd first glimpsed Kazro. But where that connection had drawn her in, this one repelled her. The longer she stared, the more her face prickled, as if invisible needles were being pushed into her skin.

The figure reached her cell and grabbed the bars, fingers wrapping around them and squeezing, wood creaking.

"Why do I hate you?" The whisper carried clearly through the silence. "Why do I hate you!"

Ariana pressed herself against the wall. Sweat trickled down her neck, beneath her collar.

"Answer me." The figure squeezed the wooden bars harder. Runes ignited along their length, glowing faintly blue. Wood creaked in protest, tiny splinters breaking free.

"Answer—" His eyes flickered from amber to red-violet, voice distorting like a damaged recording “—ME!”

The spider legs on Ariana's back arched high, instinctively defensive. Her mind raced through possible responses, possible attacks.

"You WILL answer me!" The figure's voice rose to a roar, echoing through the empty hall.

"I don't know who you are!" Ariana shouted, the words tearing from her throat.

The figure recoiled as if slapped. His eyes flickered rapidly between colors, body crackling with visible electricity. He opened their mouth to speak when distant voices echoed down the corridor.

The stranger's head jerked toward the sound. Without another word, they turned and fled, leaving a trail of electrical energy that made Ariana's hair stand on end. The air tasted metallic, like blood and batteries.

What… What the hell…?

Her legs threatened to give way. Each breath felt like drawing it through cloth. The voices grew louder, accompanied by the unmistakable sound of armored footsteps

Ariana shrank against the back wall of her cell. More…visitors? She shuddered, the eyes of that devil seared in her mind.

Several figures emerged from the shadows. The sight of them sent ice through her veins. The leader—a man with an elaborate cape draped over wide, peaked shoulders—radiated power that felt somehow…familiar.

A herald. He’s a herald.

She'd never consciously identified one before, yet, somehow, she knew that's what he was.

But what made her stomach heave was the creature fused to his head—an insect with segmented legs wrapped around his skull, covering the upper half of his face like a living mask. Its compound eyes glittered, reflecting her glow in dozens of tiny facets.

Is this what happens to heralds here? The thought made bile rise in her throat. Her own transformation was disturbing enough, but this deliberate melding with an insect… Would they try to do this to her? Was this her future?

The herald smiled, mandibles framing a human mouth. The sight was so wrong, so perverse, that Ariana had to fight the urge to vomit. Scaled soldiers flanked him, their armor clicking as they shifted position.

"Our lord has officially invited you," the herald announced, voice cultured and smooth, completely at odds with his grotesque appearance. He spoke as if she should be honored, as if she weren't a prisoner but an esteemed guest.

Invited? Rage flashed hot and sudden. Invited! After what the Plague Lord had done to them? After striking down Kazro? She bit her tongue until she tasted blood.

The herald approached her cell, tracing symbols on the bars with a gloved finger. The wood began to glow.

"Our lord is holding a council and needs you—a budding herald—at the meeting."

Budding herald.

The words struck like a physical blow. Was that how they saw her now? Not Ariana, not even the spider-girl, but just another convert to their twisted cause? Her heart hammered against her ribs, pride and revulsion battling within.

The bars began to melt, losing their solid form, becoming something alive and flowing. She pressed harder against the back wall, spider legs spread wide. The melted wood slithered toward her like sentient snakes, wrapping around her wrists.

The sensation was worse than anything she'd imagined—warm and pulsing with unnatural life, neither solid nor liquid. She nearly retched, the crawling feeling on her skin triggering every instinct to tear free, to run, to escape this horror.

"Your presence is needed," the herald said, extending his hand as if escorting her to a ball. The mockery of his gentlemanliness only heightened her disgust. "You should be able to get Kazro to cooperate."

She stopped struggling, the name cutting through her panic.

They had him.

Of course they did. And now, they planned to use her against him—her transformation, her presence, to manipulate him into…what?

A cold, calculating calm settled over her panic. If Kazro was here, she needed to be with him. Whatever they wanted from her was irrelevant. Whatever they planned for Kazro was irrelevant. What mattered was seeing him, assessing the situation, finding a way out together.

She could play their game. She could act compliant. And when the moment came…

The wooden restraints pulsed gently at her wrists. The herald waited, that unnatural smile still fixed on his face.

Ariana straightened her spine, lifted her chin. She would let them believe she was broken. She would let them think she accepted this fate.

But inside, beneath the fear and revulsion, beneath the uncertainty of her changing body, a single purpose crystallized, hard and sharp as a diamond.

Find Kazro. Save Kazro. Escape. Help Gaian City.

She rose to her feet and stepped forward. Every step, every breath, every beat of her heart was a silent oath.

Whatever it takes. Whatever I become. I will not let them win.

Chapter 20 - Face it Together

I woke with a sudden start, sitting bolt upright, dragging air in quick, shallow gulps before my training kicked in. I forced myself to breathe deliberately—in through the nose, out through the mouth. Two, three, four counts. The skill settled over me like a familiar cloak, steadying my rapid pulse in seconds.

Darkness pressed in from all sides, thick and absolute. The only light came from pulsing ruins etched into the walls—symbols that throbbed with an unsettling, almost living rhythm, like the heartbeat of some vast, sleeping beast. Their sickly glow cast just enough light for me to make out my prison: a cement box, maybe eight feet square. Cold. Unyielding. Perfect.

I tried to stand, only to have metal bite into my wrists and ankles, thick chains running from them to bolts driven deep into the floor. My heart skipped—a spike of panic that I immediately tamped down, forcing myself back into that core of calm.

In. Out.

In… Out…

Golden-green mist unfurled from my skin, tendrils stretching outward to fill the space. It pushed back the darkness, revealing more details of my prison—smooth walls, featureless ceiling, a single metal door with no visible handle. A perfect cell for a dangerous captive.

“Well, at least you're waking up a lot faster now…”

Gaia materialized before me—no bigger than my hand, floating at eye level, crafted entirely of condensed, golden-green mist. His long hair and beard flowed as if caught in some otherworldly breeze, his expression fixed in that perpetual half-smirk, eyes burning like twin suns.

I didn't bother responding. Instead, I yanked against the manacles, muscles straining against unyielding metal. The ruins along the chains flared bright, responding to my effort with mocking brilliance. A growl tore from my throat—half frustration, half annoyance. Being locked up, restrained, helpless…it clawed at something primal inside me.

"It's because they fear you," Gaia said, drifting upwards. He tapped the ceiling with a misty finger, his light reflecting off the gritty surface. “The world locks away what it fears most.”

“And what is that?”

Gaia paused. “Truth.”

I cocked a brow, but before I could ask, he continued.

“No matter how much they try, they can’t get rid of me. Can’t deny the fact that I’m rising again. Me, and the other Gods of Life.”

Gods of Life. “So there are others like you?” I held out a hand, fingers splayed, and tried to summon my scythe. The manacles pulsed brighter, almost triumphantly. I sighed. Nothing. Not even a flicker.

“Not like me, per se. Just children of El.”

I frowned. “Who?”

“El! Father of this world, husband of Endria.”

“Wait… Father of this world? So there are gods above you?”

“Ha!” Gaia laughed, a hint of pain in that tone. “Yes. Now, enough about them. We need to talk about you! About getting out of here.” He paused. “About the Plague Lord.”

I huffed. “What does he want?” I asked, voice rough.

“Not sure, but he’s probably reeling right now, because he and everyone here can't comprehend how a boy went from a smith's apprentice to a titan-slaying Wielder within a matter of weeks."

His smile was radiant, confident, and something inside me responded to it. A skip in my chest, a tingle of excitement coursing through my veins despite our circumstances. It struck me how far I’d come—from those first days when Gaia was just a voice emanating from my scythe to now… Now, he floated before me, more clear and present than ever, a tiny god made manifest.

But as that thought formed, something else stirred within my Mind Core—a cold, pulsating presence. Vlindakh. His words were indistinguishable murmurs at the edge of my consciousness, but his intent was crystal clear, his awareness of my predicament shockingly on point.

I caught it all in a flash of instinct—Vlindakh knew exactly where I was, what trouble I faced. And most disturbing of all, he seemed eager to help. He…could help. Could get me—

Gaia flew right up to my face, snapping his fingers an inch from my nose. Golden-green light flared from both of us simultaneously, centered around my Mind Core. The whispering darkness receded, fading to the barest echo.

A shiver ran through me, prickling across my skin like a thousand tiny needles. Fear—pure and primal—coiled in my gut.

"You might be at level ten with meditation," Gaia said, jabbing a finger at my nose, "but if that curse is high, it doesn't matter. That snake can still pierce through, even if it's just with a whisper.

I nodded, sinking deeper into my meditation, focusing on my breath, on the center of calm within me. The interface shimmered into view:

[Corruption Level: 36%…35.9%…35.8%…]

Relief washed through me as I watched it slowly tick downward. But mingled with that relief was a stinging flicker of guilt—because for a brief, treacherous moment, I'd actually considered accepting Vlindakh's help. The very thought made bile rise in my throat.

Gaia waved a dismissive hand. "Wasn't you, kid. It's that snake's manipulation." His expression hardened, though, all traces of his usual smirk vanishing. "He can't do anything, can't touch you at all. Not unless you let him."

Then he laughed—a bright, genuine sound that pushed back the shadows. I could feel his joy radiating through our bond, his fierce pleasure that Vlindakh was trapped: the god who’d tried to claim me, now imprisoned and helpless. I drank in Gaia's satisfaction like sweet wine, feeling it resonate through our connection even without him saying a word.

My gaze dropped to my right arm, where angry red veins pulsed beneath skin mottled black. I winced, letting out a small sigh.

Gaia's disappointment flickered across our bond—sharp but fleeting. I'd used Vlindakh's techniques in battle, drawn on powers that weren't meant to be mine. That stung, but another realization pushed through the shame.

My XP had skyrocketed. I'd absorbed a massive influx from Archlord Tenebris, plus the standard gains from combat. The numbers had jumped substantially, a well of potential just waiting to be tapped.

[Total XP: 11,440]

But where do I put the points?

I held out my hand again, focusing on summoning my scythe. This time, a vague, misty impression flickered into existence, the outline of the weapon trying to form before the ruins on my manacles flared, disrupting the process.

The answer was obvious. I knew exactly where those points needed to go—not to my companions, not to my own skills, but to my divine vestments. The crown and the scythe. They were the key.

“An excellent idea,” Gaia said, pointing at me. His form expanded slightly, radiating more light, pushing the darkness further back. “And I'll tell you why,” he continued, practically glowing with excitement. "I don't know what level the Plague Lord's divine vestments are, but if you could match that level with even just two of yours, you'd have a fighting chance at beating him…” He paused, his eyes narrowing to golden slits. "And at breaking any oath he swears you under."

I blinked, the shock of his words hitting me. The oath. The contract. The binding of my soul. I'd been so fixated on avoiding it altogether that I never even considered the possibility of breaking such a bond.

I immediately poured all of my XP into the scythe.

[Ceremonial Scythe]

Level 4

XP: 4,000/25,000

Total XP: 11,440 → XP: 4,000/25,000 = 15,440/25,000

[Ceremonial Scythe]

Level 4

XP: 15,440/25,000

"The Plague Lord wants you for something," Gaia said, his voice dropping lower. "For his own twisted ends. Perhaps to find the rest of his vestments. Perhaps for something else entirely. I'm not sure."

He floated closer, his eyes burning with intensity. "But whatever it is, we'll take every advantage we can get. Every moment to grow stronger, to level up the scythe, the crown, and whatever other vestments you find. But for now—" He gestured to the misty impression of the scythe still flickering nearby, and then toward my head where the crown would sit. "—we focus on these two."

Excitement kindled in my chest. This was something tangible, a goal I could work toward, even while chained in this cell. I could feel that one quest humming in the back of my mind, could see it appearing:

[Quest: Five Missing Pieces]

[Gaia’s divine armaments are scattered throughout the region. It is your job to find them all]

[Objective: Locate all five of Gaia’s divine armaments and Transcend each one]

[Progress: 2/5 located, 0/5 Transcended]

[Reward: Ultimate Transcendence]

Frustration bit at me—how was I supposed to find the other three while locked in this box?—but I pushed it aside. One step at a time. Level up what I had before worrying about what I didn't. The scythe and crown first. Then the rest would follow.

Before Gaia could speak again, a brilliant line of light appeared above us. It moved as if drawn by an invisible hand, carving a large square in the ceiling. The outlined section melted away, revealing a blinding shaft of light.

I raised my hand to shield my eyes, blinking furiously as figures came into focus—three silhouettes backlit and ringed with potent, crackling energy. Archlords. I could feel their power radiating in suffocating waves.

As my vision adjusted, I recognized one of them—Tenebris, with his three eyes now surrounded by fresh scars, his once-pristine armor scuffed and dented from our battle. His central eye fixed on me, burning with undisguised hatred.

"Keep him chained," he whispered, voice dripping with venom. "Wrap him with a couple more bonds if you have to. Carry him to the Plague Lord, and hurry. Our master is waiting."

Panic surged through me, a lightning strike of adrenaline that set every nerve ending ablaze. But I forced it down, sinking deeper into my meditation, letting the calm wash over me.

[Status Effect: Super Focus]

[Effect: +60% to all mental resistances, +50% MP regeneration>

[Duration: Until meditation ends]

I breathed in deeply, then out. In, then out. The fear receded, replaced by a strange, serene confidence. Despite the chains, despite being outnumbered and overpowered, something in me refused to be cowed. Gaia's presence blazed beside me, a tiny sun of defiance.

He would never forsake me. And I would never forsake him.

And whatever came next, we would face it together.

Chapter 21 - Bind a Wielder

I walked across a vast bridge, my footsteps sending tremors through the weathered planks. Ahead marched Archlord Tenebris and two others, while scaly-armed soldiers surrounded me, their spears glinting in the dappled light, their eyes never leaving me.

Chains bit into my flesh—heavy iron clasps around my wrists and ankles, more clasping my upper arms and thighs, each embedded with runes pulsing with suppressive magic. Despite this, I kept breathing steadily, each inhale and exhale a deliberate act of meditation, of resistance.

My gaze tracked upward, toward our destination at the far end of the bridge—a colossal tree that stretched skyward, seemingly without end. Its massive trunk was easily the width of a village, the opening veiled by thick, pulsating vines.

I couldn't help the flicker of amazement. Where the Wilds was all golden light and gentle breezes, this realm was heavy, suffocating. The air hung thick and muggy, each breath requiring effort, as if I were drawing in soup rather than air.

My gaze wandered from the tree's impossibly vast canopy—blocking out the sun entirely—to the surrounding forest. Every tree shared similar, swampy characteristics, with wide, fan-like canopies stretching out, creating a layered ceiling of green and brown above the forest floor.

Movement caught my eye. Walkways spiraled around the massive trunks, each tree connected with narrow bridges. People stopped their daily routines to watch our procession, leaning over railings, muttering to one another.

These weren't heralds or archlords—just regular people, though even from this distance, I could see that glowing veins traced patterns across their faces, pulsing in sync with the tree's own vascular network. Their hair was uniformly dark, their eyes varying shades of yellow and green.

But it was what lay below that truly caught me off guard.

Far beneath the bridge, down on the swampy floor, moved another population entirely. These people bore darker skin—rich browns and warm ambers—with eyes that glowed orange like embers. Their hair reminded me of plants, some with leaves growing from their scalps. They navigated the murky waters in carved canoes and flat-bottomed skiffs, some diving into the swamp. Others bent under the weight of heavy loads, while most tended to patches of cultivated land among fetid pools.

Several paused to look up at our procession. The moment they did, a man nearby cracked a whip through the air. The sound split the humid quiet, causing workers to flinch and hurriedly return to their tasks.

My heart clenched, a leaden weight settling in my chest. These people…they were slaves. The realization ached within my chest, stirring a familiar pain.

I…did not know there was slavery here, I whispered internally, the thought directed at Gaia.

I felt his presence stir, a flicker of grief. That, he murmured, and much worse.

He offered nothing more, leaving me with a disturbed, ominous tingle that crept along my spine.

My gaze remained fixed on the swamp below. One worker stumbled, dropping their load, and was immediately shoved to the ground by an overseer, who yelled wildly. Something fierce and hot kindled in my chest—a burning indignation that threatened to consume my calm. I wanted to tear off these chains, to leap from the bridge, to rain justice on those idiots—on people treating people like property.

But then Gaian City flashed in my mind's eye—the emerald spires, the laughing children, the peaceful streets. The Windwhisper Wilds, with their gentle creatures and whispering leaves. I was their guardian, sworn to protect them from precisely this kind of subjugation. If I failed here, if I died in some misguided attempt at heroism, who would stand between my home and this kind of fate?

With a deep breath, I tore my gaze away, forcing myself to look ahead even as the tightness in my chest threatened to suffocate me. Every fiber of my being protested leaving those people to their fate, but I swallowed the bitterness, storing it away. A day would come when I could right these wrongs—but not today. Not yet.

Ahead, the vines guarding the tree's entrance began to retract, sliding away with sinuous grace. As the barrier parted, the sound of rhythmic drumming spilled out, a primal beat that seemed to resonate directly with my heartbeat.

We stepped inside, and my eyes widened.

A long carpet stretched the length of a polished wooden floor, leading to a dais at the far end of the chamber. Along both sides knelt more of those slaves, hands moving in hypnotic patterns across the taut skins of massive drums. Their wrinkled skin—brown, gray, amber—glistened with sweat, glowing orange or yellow eyes fixed firmly downward, not daring to look up. Their leafy hair bounced with each strike of their palms: boom, boom, boom, boom, boom—

Above them, bleachers had been carved directly into the wooden walls, rising in tiers toward the ceiling. The last of a crowd was settling into these seats—all dark-haired, green-veined citizens draped in clothing that appeared to be fashioned from animal skins. They murmured among themselves, shifting to get better views of me, the captive outsider.

My attention snapped to the dais and the massive throne that dominated it. The seat faced away from me, its high back elaborately carved with symbols I couldn't decipher from this distance. But it wasn't the throne that made my breath catch.

To the left stood Archimedes, remarkably unrestrained, with only a single archlord standing nearby. The Drifter's presence sent a wave of relief through me. His flaming face crackled blue, his wide-brimmed hat casting shadows across those glowing, fiery eyes. His cloak sparkled like a fragment of the night sky, stars twinkling against the backdrop of inky fabric.

But it was the woman on the right who truly captured my attention.

Ariana, surrounded by guards, bound in chains like mine.

My heart skipped painfully as our eyes locked, then raced as I took in the changes to her appearance. Golden light seemed to emanate from her skin and clothes, with ivy twining up her arms and leaves sprouting from the fabric of her dress. Most startling were the spider legs that arched from her back, slender and articulated, looking like polished emerald.

Despite these changes, something about her pierced straight through to my core. This was Ariana. This was Jessica. This was the girl who'd been there for me when no one else had—my only connection to Earth, my only true friend from that distant world.

My only anchor to a life that sometimes felt like a fever dream.

I gave her a reassuring nod and smile, trying to project a confidence I didn't entirely feel. Her response was hesitant—a slow, uncertain nod, her eyes wide, her entire body visibly trembling.

Kli'Taka? Scarlet? I thought, suddenly aware of my missing companions.

Safe, Gaia whispered to my mind. They're being held captive, but they're safe.

I let out a soft breath of relief. At least there was that small mercy.

My attention returned to the dais as activity stirred around the throne. Long poles jutted from either side of the massive seat, and several of the wrinkled, slave people stepped up to them. They strained against the weight at first, muscles cording beneath their skin, but then gained momentum, turning the throne around to face us.

The figure seated within made my blood run cold.

A hooded silhouette, massive and imposing, wearing a beaked mask. Eyes like yellow suns burned from within the darkness of the hood, fixed on me with predatory intensity. Muscled arms rested on the throne's sides, chest bare beneath the open robe, revealing translucent skin crisscrossed with the same glowing veins I'd seen on his subjects.

Gaia's presence flared within me, golden-green mist radiating from my skin, his light bolstering me from within. But there was something else there, too—something deep within my Mind Core, a bubbling rage not directed at me, but at the figure on the throne. The fury was so intense, so visceral, my head ached.

With a sudden motion, the Plague Lord raised his hand. The drumming stopped, plunging the entire chamber into silence so complete, I could hear my own heartbeat.

I glanced around. Every person in the bleachers held their breath, tension crackling through the air. Even the guards had gone rigid, their knuckles white around their weapon shafts.

My gaze returned to the Plague Lord, meeting those burning yellow eyes directly, refusing to look away.

"Welcome, Kazro, Wielder of Gaia," he said, his voice unexpectedly smooth, cultured even. "Slayer of Shahar. Killer of King Kal’marath.” A pause, weighted with significance. "Your presence is most welcome."

The cordiality threw me off balance, heart continuing to pound beneath my seemingly calm exterior, meditation techniques barely keeping me centered.

"Your services are most appreciated,” the Plague Lord continued, “your accomplishments, astounding.” He paused. “But…as a Wielder beneath my station, I'm going to need to put you under contract—to keep you in check.”

Gaia's presence crackled with irritation within me. I could even sense Vlindakh's pulsing rage in my Mind Core, a dark counterpoint to Gaia's light. Neither could act directly, limited by my mortal restraints.

Don't fight it, Gaia whispered to my thoughts. He'll threaten Ariana, Archimedes, Gaian City if you do.

Panic spiked through me, a cold sweat breaking out along my back—but then I remembered what Gaia and I’d discussed earlier. If I could bring my divine vestments to a level equal to the Plague Lord's, I might gain the power to break this contract.

Bide my time. Grow stronger. Then shatter the chains.

The Plague Lord leaned forward, those golden eyes intensifying. "Do you, Kazro, promise under oath to serve me, the Plague Lord, and me alone, and obey my voice?”

My throat tightened, words sticking like thorns. “I…do,” I finally managed, the declaration echoing through the chamber.

The crowd flinched collectively. Murmurs rippled through the bleachers, a wave of discomfort that made the guards shift nervously, though I wasn’t sure why.

I felt it then—something wrapping around my soul, enveloping it like a second skin. It tightened, constricting my very spirit, and I grimaced, clenching my teeth against the sudden pressure.

A strange hunger flickered at the edges of my awareness, a memory surfacing of Gaia's warning: if my curse grew too high, Vlindakh would consume my soul. The thought slipped away as quickly as it had come, leaving behind only a vague sense of foreboding.

Movement drew my attention. Robed men with long, dark beards and glowing green veins stepped around me, metal chimes dangling from their fingers, swaying and clinking. I frowned, focusing on them through the discomfort.

The pain had instinctively driven me to summon my crown and scythe, and I realized, with some surprise, that the crown, at least, was responding more readily than before. Its presence settled around my scalp, allowing me to scan these newcomers.

[Priests of Gloomswallow - Level 25

- HP: 180/180

- MP: 340/340

- Skills: Ritual of Binding, Nature's Wrath, Zsithis’s Blessing

While they tapped the wind chimes, beginning their strange ritual, I glanced furtively toward the Plague Lord. The crown's power flowed through me, windows materializing over his divine vestments—the crystal dangling from his neck, the boots, the gloves, the cloak.

Interestingly, his beaked mask showed no such indicator, which made me wonder why he wore it. Some personal affectation, perhaps?

I focused on the vestments themselves:

[Zsithis’s Pendant: Level 1]

[Boots of the Blighted Path: Level 3]

[Gloves of Writhing Roots: Level 2]

[Cloak of Miasma: Level 4]

<Divine Level: 10>

A buzzing excitement surged through my veins, my heart pumping faster. With both my scythe and crown combined, I was already at level eight. If I could raise them to match his ten, and then transcend them…

If you can bring them up to ten, and transcend them, we'll be able to break this oath, Gaia whispered.

Are you sure of that?

A hesitation. I've done it before, he said, though uncertainty colored his tone. I've seen it happen. Then, more firmly: I just know it'll work! Silence stretched for a moment before he added, There's always a chance it might…well, break you. Splinter your soul, really. But that's to be expected.

Alarm spiked my heart rate—soul splintering was definitely not on my list of preferred outcomes—but the priests were already finishing their ritual, stepping away with solemn nods to their master.

Whatever. Either way, I need to bring both the scythe and crown up to level five, then transcend them. I wondered if transcendence would push their power beyond level five, but the technical details mattered less than the end result: freedom from this oath, and the power to defeat the Plague Lord himself.

The binding around my spirit remained, tight but no longer painful, as I stood tall before the throne.

The Plague Lord leaned back, those glowing eyes studying me. "There is a matter requiring your immediate attention. The Blight encroaches on our borders. Despite my best efforts, the voidlings continue to push forward." He gestured, and a servant hurried forward with a map, unfurling it before me. "One of our scouts recently discovered a major spawning point—gave his life delivering the news. We've known of smaller points for years, but this…this appears to be the king of them all."

His glowing eyes narrowed. "I've sent heralds. Most of them died. Archlords too, though most returned, gravely injured…” He was silent a moment. “But I've never sent a Wielder into the Blight, let alone one with two divine vestments, and an excellent track record.”

Emboldened by Gaia's presence, I asked, “If you’re so worried about it, why haven't you gone yourself?”

The Plague Lord's fingers tightened on his throne's armrests. "The Frost Baroness and I have had a…disagreement, recently. Even my brief absence to retrieve you has given her a significant advantage—her armies push deeper into my territory as we speak." A pause. "Besides, I need to level up the necklace I took from her."

The phrase ‘level up’ sent a shock through my system. I'd never heard anyone else use those exact words—only Gaia and I spoke of levels and XP. Was the Plague Lord an offworlder, like me? Or did those at the highest tiers of power simply gain the ability to see what I saw?

I remembered, suddenly, what one of the Ice Twins, Nyvara, had said—she was a Herald of the Frost Baroness, and she too had mentioned ‘levels’ and ‘XP,’ claiming the Baroness spoke of such things. Interesting…

“Taking out that major spawning point in the Blight will do more good for the Divided Kingdoms than you can ever begin to imagine,” the Plague Lord said. "Kingdoms I am committed to unite." His voice dropped, becoming harder. “Enter the Blight. Destroy the major spawning point, and bring back any treasures you find. That is my command."

My lips tightened, the oath constricting around my spirit, squeezing until it hurt to breathe.

Gaia's presence churned, an angry heat coursing through him, but beneath it ran a current of calm calculation. This was an opportunity—a chance to grow stronger on my own terms, to reach the divine power level I needed to break free and defeat the Plague Lord once and for all.

"I agree to do this," I said, the words coming easier than I'd expected.

The oath around my soul loosened, the relief so profound I let out an audible breath.

The Plague Lord watched me for a long moment, those yellow eyes unreadable. "Remove his chains," he finally said. “And prepare him for the journey." He waved a hand. "You are dismissed. I have other matters to attend to."

People rushed forward, keys jangling as they unlocked my manacles. The runes flickered and died as the metal fell away, power surging through my veins, golden-green light radiating from my skin. Others hurried past, talking of supplies and preparations, clearly tasked with readying me for this journey into the Blight.

As I turned to leave, Ariana stepped toward me, breaking away from her guards with surprising ease. I reached for her instinctively, and we came together in a tight embrace, her spider legs hovering awkwardly before gently settling against my back. The warmth of her, the solidity, steadied something inside me that had been tilting dangerously since I’d entered this place.

Too soon, people tugged at us, guiding us toward the exit. I looked back for Archimedes, seeing him striding purposefully in my direction—but then the Plague Lord's voice rang out. "Stay put, Drifter."

My heart skipped as Archimedes halted mid-step. Our eyes met across the distance, and he gave me a single, confident nod before turning back toward the throne.

I was herded out of the chamber, leaving my friend behind with that yellow-eyed monster. But as the vines closed behind me, blocking the throne room from view, I felt a strange sense of calm settling over me.

Calm, and determination.

This journey I didn't want. This mission I hadn't chosen. I would take complete and utter advantage of every step, every fight, every opportunity to grow stronger.

And when I returned, the Plague Lord would learn what it truly meant to bind a Wielder to his will.

Chapter 22 - Kneel to Me

"Scarlet! Kli'Taka!"

There they were at the far end of the bridge—my companions, my friends. Scarlet looking like a majestic fox-wolf, white fur gleaming in the dappled light. Kli'Taka with her dark skin and dreadlocks, those pearl-like eyes glinting in the light.

A stranger with black hair, green-veined skin, and glowing emerald eyes stood behind them, holding their leashes with a bored expression.

But the moment they spotted me, everything changed.

Scarlet let out a joyful bark that echoed across the chasm while Kli'Taka gasped, her fangs flashing in a brilliant smile. They both launched forward, nearly yanking their handler off his feet as he stumbled to keep pace with them.

Scarlet practically headbutted me. I staggered, laughing, burying my face in her thick fur, breathing in her familiar scent of pine and wilderness—something clean and pure in this muggy, rotting place. Kli'Taka hit me next, her wiry arms wrapping around my waist, claws carefully retracted as she squeezed tight enough to make my ribs creak.

My chest tightened as I embraced them both, relief washing through me in dizzying waves. The bridge swayed gently beneath our reunion, creaking with each shift of weight. All around us, the oppressive humidity pressed in, clinging to my skin like a second, unwelcome layer. Tiny creatures buzzed through the air—mosquito-like insects that whined past my ears, forcing me to swat them away with my free hand.

"You have ten minutes, Wielder," a familiar voice called.

I looked up to see Archlord Tenebris standing a few paces away, the scars on his face twisted into an ugly expression. His three eyes—two normal, one central and larger—blinked at different intervals, and his ‘hair’ writhed with independent motion, dozens of tiny snake-like tendrils weaving and uncoiling with apparent sentience.

"You are free to roam, but don't go too far," he said, tone edged and sharp. "We will leave soon." With that, he marched away, back toward the massive tree that housed the Plague Lord's throne.

Other archlords and heralds filtered past, trailing wisps of poison-green aura in their wake. They wore a strange mix of organic armor—chitin plates harvested from who-knew-what creatures, paired with cloaks that seemed to be spun from living moss. Their weapons hummed with malevolent energy, some clearly grown rather than forged.

My gaze drifted to Ariana, standing a short distance away. She fidgeted with the leaves sprouting from her dress, examining them with nervous fingers. The emerald-gold glow that suffused her skin pulsed in gentle waves, and the spider legs protruding from her back shifted with her every movement, as if they had minds of their own.

She must have felt my stare because she looked up suddenly, eyes widening. A brief, fragile smile flashed across her face before she glanced away, shoulders hunching slightly.

She feels insecure? The question jabbed at me, though the answer seemed obvious enough—her transformation, both into this spider-hybrid form and her slow metamorphosis into a herald, were weighing on her. I needed to talk to her, to bridge this strange new distance between us . It had been too long since we had a real conversation, that brief moment on the cloud not nearly enough.

But not here. We needed somewhere a little more…private.

I glanced back toward the throne room entrance, now sealed by interlocking vines and roots. Guards stood rigid on either side, glaring at me. My thoughts turned to Archimedes, still inside with the Plague Lord. What did that monster want from him? My heart skipped before I forced myself to breathe deeply, activating my meditation skill to smooth the jagged edges of worry.

"Probably going to put him under contract too," Gaia said, his golden-green mist swirling around me without fully materializing.

"Why do it in private, though?" I asked, then remembered the packed audience chamber. "Well, not private, but why do it without me present? He didn't seem shy about binding me in front of everyone."

"He put me under contract," Ariana said quietly, stepping closer.

My heart leapt into my throat as I spun to face her. "Seriously?"

"We shouldn't talk here," Gaia cautioned, his presence pulsing with urgency.

I nodded, glancing at the guards who continued to glare in our direction. "Let's find somewhere away from here," I suggested, suddenly desperate to put distance between us and the Plague Lord's tree.

We set off across the bridge, each step making the structure sway slightly, the stench of the bog below an annoyance—rotting vegetation, stagnant water, and something else more putrid that I couldn't identify. I wrinkled my nose, trying to breathe through my mouth instead.

All around us, those impossibly tall trees reached skyward, their trunks encircled by spiraling pathways that climbed higher and higher. Openings dotted their massive girths, hollows where people entered and exited like ants in a colony.

The bridge led to a landing that surrounded another enormous tree, though nothing compared to the central one housing the Plague Lord's throne. Instead of climbing the spiral path winding up its trunk, we skirted around it, seeking a place away from the steady stream of locals passing by.

These people—men and women with black hair, green eyes, and glowing veins—muttered, glancing in our direction. Their clothing, crafted from animal skins and strange fibers, rustled with each step. I caught fragments of their whispers: “outlander,” “Wielder,” “contract-bound.”

Eventually, we reached a wooden railing overlooking the vast swamp below. The view stretched for miles—pools of brackish water interspersed with islands of twisted vegetation and the occasional fallen tree. Those people labored down there—the ones with wrinkled skin, glowing orange-yellow eyes, and leafy hair. They harvested unknown crops, dove into murky ponds, and hauled heavy loads across makeshift walkways.

Taskmasters—the green-veined people like those above—stood watch with whips coiled in their hands, quick to crack them at the slightest sign of rest or rebellion.

My chest tightened again, that same righteous anger burning in my gut. These people were slaves, plain and simple. Oppressed. Suffering. And here I stood, unable to help them, bound by an oath to the very system that kept them chained.

Why is this bugging me so much? This isn't the Wilds. But still, these were people, with feeling, lives, families.

Something caught my eye—a figure perched on a long branch. Their orange-red-violet eyes flickered in my direction, locking with mine. My breath caught, a wave of familiarity washing over me so powerful it made me dizzy. I staggered back, but Ariana caught me. I blinked, maintaining eye contact, goosebumps risings.

I knew this person. I knew him!

But…how? I didn’t even recognize him.

Ariana held me tight, following my gaze, a small gasp escaping her lips. Our eyes met in shared shock, but when we looked back, the figure was gone.

"I saw him back in prison," Ariana whispered. "Back where they were holding me."

"Did you feel that?" I asked, my heart pounding, that strange familiarity still lingering in my mind. I'd only experienced this once before—when I first saw Ariana.

A connection that defied explanation.

"I felt it," she confirmed, her spider legs twitching nervously. "The same feeling I had when I first saw you."

We stared at the empty branch, questions hanging between us. The silence stretched uncomfortably, and I found myself fumbling for something to say. "How, um, are you handling all this?" I finally asked, gesturing vaguely toward her transformed body.

"I'm managing." Her response was clipped, distant.

“It's a lot. The new look, and this herald transformation on top of it…”

"Yeah." She gave a humorless laugh. "Just my luck, right? Come to a new world, get bitten by a magic spider, grow extra limbs."

That sounded more like the Ariana I knew—dry humor in the face of the impossible. I seized on it, hoping to keep her talking. "I thought spiders were supposed to give you super strength and the ability to shoot webs from your wrists. Comic books lied to us."

She almost smiled, but it faded before fully forming. "These do come with…abilities. Just not the fun kind from the movies." One of the spider legs extended slightly, then curled back. "They move on their own sometimes. When I'm stressed or scared. Like they have their own instincts."

"That must be disorienting."

"Disorienting." She repeated the word, testing it. "That's one way to put it. Try terrifying."

I nodded, not pretending to fully understand. "Remember when you—when Jessica—dyed her hair purple that weekend before homecoming? Your mom freaked out so bad she threatened to ground you until graduation."

This time she did smile, just a ghost of one. "She made me wash it out three times. Said I looked like I'd joined a cult."

"You said it was worth it just to see her face."

"I was braver then," Ariana said quietly.

The words hung between us, heavier than they should have been. I hesitated, then asked, "What…happened, last week?” I still didn’t know the full story.

Her spider legs curled inward, defensively. "Nothing I want to relive by talking about it."

“Sorry. I just thought it might help to—”

"It won't." Her voice wasn't sharp, just firm. Final.

I shifted my weight, searching for some way past the wall she'd erected. "Do they hurt? The legs, I mean."

She shook her head. "Not anymore. At first, when they were…growing, it was excruciating. Now they're just…there." She flexed them slightly. "Actually useful for climbing. Stronger than they look."

"Silver lining, I guess."

"I'd trade them in a heartbeat," she said, then sighed. "But that's not an option, so here we are."

Silence settled between us again. I could feel Kli'Taka and Scarlet watching from a respectful distance, concern evident in their postures.

"The herald transformation is different," Ariana said suddenly, surprising me. “It doesn't hurt exactly. It's more like…” She searched for words, brow furrowed. "Like I'm being hollowed out from the inside. Being remade into something…something that isn't entirely me anymore." Her eyes met mine, vulnerability showing through for the first time. "Like I'm becoming someone else's vessel, but still aware enough to feel it happening."

The raw honesty in her voice struck me. Is she mad I’m making her a herald?

“At least it’s giving my skin some color,” she whispered, looking out across the swamp.

My insides ached. “I wish I could fix this for you.”

"You can't," she said simply. "And don't say you understand. You don't."

"Not completely," I conceded. "But Vlindakh's curse…" I rolled up my sleeve, revealing the pulsing black marks with their angry red veins. "I know what it's like when your body starts changing into something you never wanted. When something alien takes up residence inside you."

She looked at the marks for a long moment. "I guess we're both turning into monsters, huh?"

"You're not a monster," I said immediately.

She looked away, toward the swamp below. "You haven't seen me when the instincts take over."

I didn't know what to say to that. I wanted to comfort her, to tell her it would be okay, but hollow reassurances seemed worse than silence.

"I'm not ready to talk about all of it," she said finally, voice trembling. "Just…give me time, okay? I'm still trying to figure out who I am now."

That small admission, that tiny glimpse of vulnerability, gave me hope. Whatever she was becoming, the Ariana I knew was still in there somewhere.

"I'm here," I said simply. "Whenever you're ready. However long it takes."

She nodded once, and though she didn't answer, something in her posture softened slightly. The wall between us remained, but maybe now there was a door—locked for the moment, but a door nonetheless.

I wanted to say more, but I became aware of a growing fatigue pressing down on me. My limbs felt heavy, my thoughts sluggish, a faint dizziness making the world tilt when I moved too quickly.

[Ariana - Herald Transformation: 71/100%]

The notification flickered in my peripheral vision—Ariana's transformation was drawing on my energy, slowly and steadily. I wasn't in danger of collapse, but the constant drain made itself known in a hundred small ways.

And beneath that exhaustion, something else stirred. I could feel Vlindakh writhing in my Mind Core, hungry to speak. His presence pressed against the barriers of my consciousness like a beast testing the strength of its cage. To my surprise, I felt a flash of curiosity—what did he want to say? What insights might he offer?

The thought disgusted me even as it formed. I knew his motives were purely self-serving, knew the evil that lay at his core.

"He's only interested in himself," Gaia said, his warmth flooding my mind, drowning out the dark god's influence. "Don't give him an opening."

Even so, fragments of Vlindakh's voice slipped through: …help…break…contract… The words came broken, disjointed, but their meaning was clear enough.

I pushed them aside and checked my interface, focusing on how much XP my two armaments needed.

[Crown of the Harvest]

Level 4

XP: 2,500/25,000

[Ceremonial Scythe]

Level 4

XP: 15,440/25,000

I had a long way to go—but if I focused solely on the scythe, I could bring it up fast. I would need to do the same with the crown, bringing both to level five and then transcending them, giving me the power to break this oath.

"We need to talk about our next steps," I said, pulling my friends closer to ensure we weren't overheard. “Gaia, we want you in on this.”

“I’m here.” Gaia materialized as his tiny form now, floating between us with his crossed arms and perpetual smirk. “And there’s no time to waste. This stupid oath of yours compels you to go to the Blight, to this mega spawning point the Plague Lord mentioned. You have to do it.”

“But we can use this to bump up the vestments,” I said, determination hardening in my chest. "Every fight, every monster, every challenge is XP. If I can get both vestments to level five and transcend them while we're out there…”

"You'll match the Plague Lord's power," Gaia finished. “And break the contract.”

"It's our best chance," I agreed. "Get strong enough to either defeat him outright or at least escape and protect Gaian City and the Wilds."

My thoughts turned to the Blight itself. What was it exactly? And why did the Plague Lord fear it so much? If a monarch of his power worried about its encroachment, shouldn't we be equally concerned?

"I don't know much about it," Gaia admitted, his tiny shoulders rising in a shrug. "It's not part of the natural cycle I oversee."

"I do," came a voice from above.

We all jumped, spinning to face the source.

Clinging to the side of a nearby tree was the figure we'd spotted earlier—wrinkled amber skin, leafy hair that rustled with each movement, and those haunting red-violet eyes that seemed to look straight through me.

That same inexplicable familiarity washed over me again, paired with a surge of anxiety. My hand rose reflexively, ready to summon my scythe at the first hint of threat. "Who are you?" I demanded, fighting to keep my voice steady.

"Someone like you," he replied, slipping down from the tree with fluid grace. "A Wielder. Contract-bound." He tapped his chest, where a faint glow pulsed beneath his bark-like clothing. "Just one vestment, though. Not as special as you."

There was something in his tone—bitterness? Resignation? I couldn't quite place it.

There was silence for a time, my heart pounding.

Luckily, Ariana jumped in. "What do you know about the Blight?" she asked, her spider legs shifting into a more defensive position.

The stranger's eyes narrowed slightly. "I know it's death. Walking death. The corrupted ones spread through the region like a disease, consuming everything living in their path." He glanced toward the distant horizon, where a faint greenish haze hung over the treetops. “The monarchs hold it back, each guarding their section of the border. If they fall…” He drew a finger across his throat.

"What created it?" I pressed. "Where did it come from?"

A shrug. "No one knows. Or no one's telling. I've been there seven times, and I've never found answers—only nightmares."

"Seven times?" Ariana’s eyes widened. "And you're still alive?"

The stranger's mouth twisted into something resembling a smile. "Barely." Then, abruptly: "I'm going with you this time. Plague Lord's orders."

Before I could respond, a tiny creature appeared beside us—a glowing insect the size of my thumb, with translucent wings and round dots for eyes. "The expedition is ready to depart," it announced in a surprisingly resonant voice. "You're all requested to come immediately."

"I'll guide you," the stranger said, already moving toward a bridge.

I hesitated, something inside twisting. He continued along, not looking back, and I waited, wanting to get some space between us. There was something off about this Wielder—something I did not like.

When he was far enough away, I waved my friends forward, and followed, a heavy certainty settled in my gut. There was no escaping this mission, no avoiding the Plague Lord's bidding. But I could control how I approached it—focusing on gaining XP, leveling my vestments, making heralds of my allies, and ultimately breaking free from this contract.

"There may be more opportunities in the Blight than you assume," Gaia whispered, golden light pulsing.

I nodded, setting my jaw. Into the Blight, then. Into walking death. But I wouldn't be going as a helpless pawn—I would be going as Kazro, Wielder of Gaia, with a plan and a purpose all my own.

The oath might force my steps, but it couldn't dictate my heart.

I was the one in control, and soon, the Plague Lord would kneel to me.

Chapter 23 - Two Worlds

"Is it true?" the Plague Lord asked, leaning forward on his wooden throne. "Has the Sundust Sage returned?"

Archimedes’ core flared, blue flames crackling along his arms as he considered his answer. There was no point in lying, not when truth would serve as well.

"Yes," he said, his voice resonant and steady. "He has returned."

The Plague Lord fell silent, the yellow eyes within his beaked mask unreadable. His muscled chest rose and fell with measured breaths, the patterns along on his gloves squirming like a living thing. He stroked his chin thoughtfully, two guards with scaly arms standing at attention beside the throne, their expressions impassive.

Around them, the audience chamber hummed with quiet energy. Citizens filled the bleacher-like seats carved into the walls, some leaning forward with interest, others whispering urgently to their neighbors. Along the perimeter knelt the Spriggans with their wrinkled skin and glowing eyes, hands poised over ceremonial drums, their leafy hair trembling slightly.

A flicker of pity passed through Archimedes—slaves in all but name, trapped in service to a ruler not of their choosing. But his attention quickly returned to the Plague Lord, who remained deep in thought, clearly disturbed by the news.

And Archimedes understood why. Sages possessed power beyond that of mere archlords, with some rivaling even Wielders in their strength. Which begged the question…could the Sundust Sage match the Plague Lord in raw power? Probably not. But damage him? Disrupt his plans? Absolutely. The threat was real enough to warrant concern.

Finally, the Plague Lord's eyes fixed on Archimedes with renewed intensity. "Do you, Archimedes, hereby swear to obey all that I command?"

The question hung in the air, heavy with significance as the soul oath began to form, a spiritual force wrapping around his core, tightening like an invisible fist. He’d expected this—had known from the moment they'd captured Kazro that this moment would come. The binding was unpleasant but not painful, more a pressure than true discomfort.

But he couldn’t fight back—not now.

Not here.

He nodded once, a crisp movement. "I do."

“Excellent,” the Plague Lord said, and Archimedes felt the binding click into place, settling around his core like a second skin. "Do you promise not to invite or encourage the sage in any way to come here?" the Plague Lord continued, his tone hardening.

Archimedes gripped his staff tighter, the wood warm against his flaming hands. "Yes," he agreed, not bothering to hide his reluctance. There was no evading this, no clever word game that could sidestep the binding. Even with the near-religious reverence these people showed toward Drifters, some boundaries could not be crossed.

"If the Sundust Sage sets foot in my territory," the Plague Lord said, each word precise and careful, "your oath will be considered broken, whether you invited him or not. Do you agree to this stipulation?"

The soul bond constricted further around Archimedes' core, pulsing with expectation. Again, he nodded his agreement, feeling the oath solidify with his consent.

A scribe sat at a nearby table, quill scratching rapidly across parchment. Even from a distance, Archimedes could make out phrases: “…formal notice to the Sundust Sage…” and “…forbidden entry upon penalty of…” and “…oath-bound to be shattered should these terms be violated…”

“You will leave with Kazro, though, I do wish you could stay here," the Plague Lord said, his tone shifting to something almost conversational.

Archimedes frowned, blue flames flickering across his brow. "Why?" he asked, his voice crackling with undimmed confidence.

The Plague Lord straightened in his seat, and Archimedes didn't miss the subtle shift in posture—the automatic response of respect that his presence commanded. For all his power, this monarch still held Drifters with that wide-eyed, reverent awe.

"There are…strange occurrences at an astral sanctum, miles from here," the Plague Lord explained. “More concerning is the possibility that my enemies might find ways to access the astral plane and skulk right into my territory.”

He gestured vaguely toward the east. "I have others watching it, but they aren't Drifters. They can barely handle the things that emerge from there." A pause, weighted with significance. “I would like you to check it out in the future, but for now, you need to head to the Blight, help Kazro take out that spawning point. Your assistance will only increase the odds that he succeeds."

The Plague Lord's expression grew distant, troubled. The concern radiating from him was palpable, genuine fear for his realm. The spreading Blight, the corruption it brought, the voidlings emerging from it—all posed an existential threat to his territory.

And beneath it all lay mysteries that nagged at Archimedes' mind. Questions like: Where did this major spawning point originate from? And where had the Blight itself come from? And what treasures might lie hidden within its corrupted depths?

Answers will come. For now, all I need to worry about is helping Kazro. A wave of relief washed through him, unexpected but powerful. The Plague Lord was sending him with Kazro. The boy would need guidance, protection. The Blight was no place for a novice Wielder, no matter how talented.

Messengers arrived at that moment, hurrying into the chamber with quick, deferential bows. “The expedition is assembled and ready to depart for the Blight!”

The Plague Lord nodded and waved a dismissive hand toward Archimedes. "You may go. Ensure our Wielder returns successful…and alive."

Archimedes bowed his head slightly—not in submission, but acknowledgment. With a swirl of his starry cloak, he turned and followed the messenger, his mind already racing ahead to the challenges that awaited them in the corrupted lands beyond the border.

Whatever the Blight held, whatever dangers lurked within its blackened heart, he would face them. Not for the Plague Lord, not for this oath that now bound him, but for Kazro—the boy with two worlds in his soul, and the weight of both on his shoulders.

Chapter 24 - Cold Blood

The vast emerald walls of Gaian City came into view, just as the sun was setting.

Vireth sprinted toward them, breathing deeply, cycling essence to his legs. His lungs burned slightly, armor clinking with each powerful stride. Even after hours of running, his body showed little sign of fatigue—one benefit of being a herald.

On the walls ahead, figures moved with purpose. Gaians with their harvest spirits—glowing orbs hovering over shoulders—patrolled alongside Drifters in their distinctive garb. The latter spotted him first—masked figures with crescent moons or five-pointed stars adorning their faces, others wearing wide-brimmed hats shadowing eyes that flickered like living flames. Their cloaks radiated amber light, pulsing like embers in the gathering dusk.

"I bring news!" Vireth shouted, his voice carrying across the distance.

The response was immediate…and hostile.

Sparkling meteors launched from the walls, whistling through the air before exploding nearby. Vireth launched himself right, somersaulting then rolling to his feet just as more attacks—these like concentrated balls of fire—detonated behind him.

"Stop!" he shouted, ducking another fireball. "Cease fire!"

But why would they? For all they knew, he was an enemy—a servant of the Plague Lord. He cursed the radiant poison-green aura that marked his status, the signature color of his former master.

With no time to lose, Vireth charged the wall itself. He launched forward and slammed against the smooth emerald surface, kicked upward, armor scraping as he scaled the fortification with inhuman speed.

Landing atop the wall, he found himself facing a line of Gaians, hands glowing emerald as they summoned writhing vines from the very stone beneath his feet. The tendrils whipped toward him, but Vireth was already moving—leaping over one attack, sliding under another.

"I'm not here to fight!" he shouted, spinning to avoid a blast of sparkling energy.

He landed in a crouch, raising his hands in surrender as he found himself surrounded by Drifters, Gaians, and even a massive tree golem that lumbered forward with creaking steps. He gritted his teeth, hot irritation flashed through him. He should have anticipated this reception, should have found a better approach.

The whole situation was ridiculous. He'd come to find the Sundust Sage, to finish what Kazro started—to establish Gaian City as a focal point in the search for the remaining vestments.

"Is he here?" Vireth asked abruptly, causing his would-be attackers to hesitate. "The Sundust Sage—has he arrived?"

The Gaians exchanged glances. One—a woman with a thick green braid and glowing eyes—stepped forward cautiously. "If you truly mean us no harm," she said, "then allow us to bind you."

Vireth huffed, rolling his eyes. "Fine," he conceded, "but only if you take me to see him."

The defenders nodded to one another, and two Drifters approached with glowing bonds, wrapping them around Vireth's wrists. As they secured him, he took the opportunity to survey the city spread below.

Gaian City was far from the peaceful settlement it had once been. Evidence of recent attacks scarred its elegant architecture—collapsed buildings, scorched walls, and at its center, the massive husks of giant worms. The streets teemed with activity, not the quiet bustle of a city preparing for night, but the controlled chaos of rebuilding.

Crimson-eyed Sa’Khari moved through the crowds, helping to clear debris and repair structures. Many Gaians gave them a wide berth despite their obvious efforts to assist. Some even argued with the rubies, gesturing angrily at sections of reconstruction. Not a surprise…

His captors guided him down a flight of stairs that descended from the wall to the city proper. After reaching the bottom, they walked through the streets, Vireth's concern deepening. Flagstone pathways wound between buildings of wood and emerald crystal, many broken walls or splintered roofs. Tree golems helped lift heavy beams while harvest spirits illuminated work areas.

Vireth narrowed his eyes, thoughts turning to Kazro. Gaian City would inevitably be targeted again. The Plague Lord would never allow this bastion of resistance to stand once he consolidated his power. Which meant only one thing: Kazro needed to be ready—not just to defend this single city, but to protect these lands, this entire region, like a true Wielder, a true leader, a true protector…unlike the self-serving tyrant who'd held the title for too long.

Eventually, they reached a central courtyard where a crowd had gathered. Dignitaries in rich emerald clothing, adorned with jewelry and sporting carefully groomed green beards and mustaches, stood among ordinary citizens. All faced a grand staircase leading to the central castle.

And there, on the steps, stood the Sundust Sage, flanked by other Drifters. His wide-brimmed hat shadowed eyes that burned like twin fireballs, his long wispy beard flowing over robes sewn with threads that shimmered like captured flames.

"Where's our Guardian?" someone was shouting from the crowd. “Where is he?

"Who will protect us when they return?" called another.

Gaian officials tried to calm the growing unrest, but tension crackled through the air like static. As Vireth's group entered the courtyard, people turned, flinching away from his herald's aura, faces contorting with anger and suspicion.

The Sundust Sage straightened, those fiery eyes fixing Vireth with sudden interest.

"Kazro, the Guardian of the Wilds, has been taken by the Plague Lord," Vireth announced, his voice carrying across the suddenly hushed gathering.

Gasps rippled through the crowd, followed by angry mutters and fearful whispers.

“But I no longer serve that man.” Vireth's heart pounded in his chest, the words pouring from him with an intensity he hadn't expected. The crowd fell silent again, all eyes locked on him. "I have been with Kazro, experienced his selflessness firsthand, and know he has every right to rule—not just this land, but this entire region. And I intend to help him."

Shock registered on every face, including the sage's.

Vireth swallowed, then let out a shaky breath. He couldn't help but remember how he once believed in the Plague Lord, had trusted in his vision for the Divided Kingdoms. Even as troubling signs appeared—the cruelty, the manipulation, the disregard for those deemed less useful—Vireth had looked away, rationalizing, justifying.

But when Shahar had risen, threatening to destroy everything, the Plague Lord's true nature had been revealed. He'd done nothing, concerned only with his own survival, willing to let Vlindakh rise if it meant preserving his power.

It had broken something in Vireth. His brother had died to voidlings from the Blight—sacrificed himself so others could escape—believing that the monarchs would protect the realm. Instead, the Plague Lord had proven himself a coward when true courage was needed.

Kazro, by contrast, had been everything Vireth had always hoped for—a Wielder who would fight for others, who would sacrifice for the greater good, who saw power as responsibility rather than privilege.

"The only way to help him," Vireth continued, "is to find the remaining vestments of Gaia. And I know that’s something you can—"

The Sundust Sage raised a hand, silencing both Vireth and the murmuring crowd. "I can tap into the astral plane," he said, his voice like crackling flames. "A plane that reveals all, especially to one who knows what they're looking for." He stroked his beard thoughtfully. "Of course, having Gaia here—and Kazro—would make it far easier, but I can pinpoint the general direction of the vestments."

Vireth’s heart skipped as excitement rippled through the crowd. Voices rose, people offering help, volunteering for the search. The Gaian officials struggled to maintain order as the gathering threatened to break into dozens of competing conversations.

The Sundust Sage gestured for Vireth to approach. With a nod from his captors, Vireth climbed the stairs to join the Drifter.

“Follow me,” the Sage said simply, turning to enter the castle.

As Vireth followed him inside, a tiny wisp materialized beside the sage's hat. It twirled in the air, facing Vireth with curious intensity.

Vireth raised an eyebrow at the strange creature.

"Pip could sense your sincerity," the Sundust Sage explained, continuing down a wide hallway.

The wisp—Pip—gave a sharp, enthusiastic nod. "Yep! Not a lie detector, exactly, but I know genuine feeling when I see it!"

Vireth nodded, looking from the wisp to the sage, then took in their surroundings as they walked. The castle bore scars of recent battle—burned furniture, insect carapaces splattered against walls, webs still dangling from the high ceiling.

"I received word from Archimedes," the sage said, his tone darkening. "An update about our Wielder, Kazro." He paused, those fiery eyes dimming slightly. "The Plague Lord is sending him into the Blight."

The words hit Vireth like a physical blow. His mind flashed to his home village, to people with hollow eye sockets advancing through the streets, to his brother pushing him away, screaming for him to run as corrupted hands pulled him down…

He gasped, returning to the present with a jolt. "Why—why in damnation would the Plague Lord send him in there? It doesn't make sense! Unless…” His blood ran cold. "Unless he just wants him dead."

The sage shook his head. "If he wanted Kazro dead, he would simply execute him. The Plague Lord wants to use Kazro—he wouldn't waste such a valuable resource."

“Then he fears the Blight more than I realized."

Suddenly, a chilling wind swept through the corridor, ice crystallizing across the floor and across Vireth's armor. His spine tingled with a primal warning.

The Sundust Sage turned, eyes narrowing as he looked past Vireth toward the front entrance. Vireth spun around, following the sage's gaze out across the city to the darkening sky.

Brilliant blue clouds billowed on the horizon, interspersed with darker masses, rolling toward Gaian City with unnatural speed. Vireth's stomach sank as recognition hit.

Those clouds could mean only one thing. Only one person.

The Frost Baroness was coming.

Chapter 25 - Profound Dread

I leaned against the wooden railing, wind blowing in my face, the air so humid that breathing felt like swallowing water. I coughed, eyes watering at the rancid taste, the smell even worse.

Blinking back tears, I looked out on the seemingly endless stretch of shallow water and twisted trees. Our transportation—a plane-sized centipede with armored shell plates—moved with surprising speed across the swamp, its countless legs creating a hypnotic rhythm beneath us.

We'd been traveling for hours, passing beneath towering trees with canopies so wide they blocked out the sun, their dangling vines reminiscent of weeping willows.

I drew another deep breath, forcing my lungs to adapt to the fetid air.

Archimedes stepped up beside me, his flaming face dancing in the wind, fiery eyes glittering as he surveyed the landscape. Ariana took position on the other side, her golden-green skin glowing softly, cat-like eyes narrowed against the breeze, spider legs shifting restlessly from her back. Behind me, Scarlet nuzzled against my legs while Kli'Taka wrapped her arms around my waist, chin resting on my shoulder.

Glancing back, I took in the full scale of our expedition—soldiers training on the vast wooden platform strapped to the centipede's back, several archlords and dozens of heralds preparing for what lay ahead. Some archlords flew alongside our mount, their translucent wings catching the dappled light that filtered through the canopy.

The sight of those wings reminded me of a question I'd asked earlier: why we couldn't simply fly over the Blight. The answer had been brief and chilling—the poisonous haze that rose from that corrupted land killed anyone who entered its airspace, no matter how high they flew.

A spike of panic fluttered in my chest. I looked to my companions, my gaze lingering on Ariana, still in the process of becoming a herald. I blinked tired eyes, the transformation taking its toll, both on her and on me.

"I promise to make all of you heralds," I said suddenly, the words spilling out before I could consider them fully. They turned to me, surprise evident in their expressions. It was only half-planned, born more from fear for their safety than tactical consideration.

"You can," Gaia said, materializing on my shoulder, his tiny form glowing golden-green. "But be warned—you're only at level four with both vestments, which means four heralds is your maximum capacity." He paused, his glow dimming slightly. “And if any of them die, it will take you out.”

I shot him a sharp look, annoyance flaring at how casually he mentioned the possibility of death. My goal was to keep everyone alive—period.

Gaia felt my surge of emotion and shrugged apologetically. Tight guilt immediately replaced hot irritation—he was only being practical, after all. I blew out a breath and nodded my understanding.

My gaze drifted to Ariana again. She stood with her back straight, staring out across the vast swamplands, hair whipping in the humid breeze, expression distant and unreachable. I wondered if I should try again to breach the wall between us, to say something that might help her open up, even if just a little more.

Before I could decide, I noticed Archimedes pressing two fingers to his forehead, his eyes flickering intensely. I watched him for a moment before he spoke. “Vireth arrived at Gaian City.”

The name jolted me. “What?" I'd completely forgotten about the herald in all the chaos, and even more guilt pricked at me for the oversight.

"He's been talking to the Sundust Sage," Archimedes continued, then paused, those fiery eyes turning to meet mine. "They intend to find Gaia's final vestments."

“Ha!” Gaia straightened, flaring with gold light. “Wait, seriously? That kid used to be a real bastard.”

I, too, could hardly process the news. Vireth—the arrogant, disdainful herald, the man who’d treated me with nothing but contempt—was actively helping me? The transformation was as startling as it was unexpected.

My heart pounded with excitement, a buzzing thrill coursing through my veins. Because if they succeeded, if they found even one of the remaining vestments…

"This changes everything," I breathed.

"Perhaps," Gaia said, his voice unusually subdued. “But let's not count our vestments before they're found.”

"But with the Sundust Sage helping—"

"He's powerful, yes. But the astral plane is vast and often misleading." Despite his cautionary words, I could sense Gaia's own excitement bubbling beneath the surface.

Archimedes pressed his fingers to his forehead again, expression tightening. "The Frost Baroness approaches Gaian City," he announced, voice grim.

Gaia groaned as I straightened, pulse quickening again for entirely different reasons. "What does she want with Gaian City?" I asked, mind racing through possibilities. "What's her angle in all this?"

“That's all Pip knows for now,” Archimedes said, lowering his hand. “Says she’ll keep me updated.”

The mention of his connection with Pip made me wonder about his private conversation with the Plague Lord—a topic he'd been surprisingly reticent about.

"What did the Plague Lord want with you?" I asked directly. "When he kept you behind?"

Archimedes' flame-face flickered. "He put me under contract, like you and Ariana. My oath is to help you succeed and to keep the Sundust Sage from attacking Gloomswallow."

I blinked in surprise. "He's afraid of a sage?"

"Not entirely," Archimedes replied thoughtfully. "But I think he fears the Frost Baroness teaming up with the sage—which might be a very real possibility."

The thought of the Frost Baroness joining up with the sage got my heart racing… But then again, she could be moving to attack Gaian City. That sent a fresh wave of panic through me. As Guardian of the Wilds, I felt responsible for the city's safety—but there was absolutely nothing I could do about it from here. The soul oath bound me to the Plague Lord's mission: enter the Blight, destroy the spawning point, and return with any treasures found.

My path was clear, if unwelcome. Fight. Gain XP. Level up my vestments to five and transcend them. Break free from this contract.

But I wasn't the only one bound…

My gaze shifted to Archimedes, then to Ariana, who had walked away during our discussion and now sat with her back against the railing, knees drawn up to her chest.

I need to break their oaths, too, somehow.

“Focus on yours first,” Gaia said. “We’ll figure out theirs later.”

I nodded, staring at Ariana, an ache welling up in my chest. “I need to talk to her," I said quietly.

Archimedes nodded, understanding without explanation. Kli'Taka and Scarlet moved away, giving us space before I could ask. Their intuition sometimes bordered on mind-reading.

I made my way across the platform, passing soldiers and heralds preparing for the dangers ahead. Some disappeared through trapdoors that presumably led to quarters below deck. But private rooms were a luxury I didn't need for this conversation.

I sat beside Ariana, close but not touching. She didn't look up, didn't acknowledge my presence in any way. The silence stretched between us, thick as the swamp air.

My mind drifted to a conversation I had with Archimedes while Ariana was away—learning how she’d nearly used an astral heart to return home. Archimedes never mentioned it to her directly, but he'd sensed her indecision, her struggle between bringing him through or returning to Earth.

The knowledge still stunned me. She could have left us all behind, could have returned to the world we both came from—yet, she'd chosen to stay.

"Thank you," I said abruptly.

She frowned, finally glancing over. "For what?"

"For not leaving." The words hung between us, heavy with unspoken meaning.

She narrowed her eyes. "What are you talking about?"

I saw no reason to hide what I knew. "You could have gone back to Earth."

Her posture stiffened, eyes growing even wider, a flicker of something—guilt? regret?—crossing her features. "Who told you that?"

"Does it matter?" I held her gaze steadily. "You had the chance to go home. But you decided to stay."

She stared straight ahead.

"Why did you stay?"

Her eyes watered, and she quickly looked away, a tremor running through her body.

I grimaced. Shit, was I pressing to hard? Too fast?

She was trembling now, arms wrapped tightly around herself. I reached out instinctively, then hesitated as I realized I was extending my cursed hand, the one mottled with black splotches and angry red veins. I clenched it into a fist, using my other hand instead to touch her arm lightly.

She shivered at the contact, looking down at my hand, tears racing down her cheeks. Time to change the subject.

I was about to say something superficial, something to lighten the mood, but Gaia pulsed within. Compliment her.

I blinked. What?

Trust me, just do it.

I nodded, taking a deep breath. “I, um…” I said after a moment's hesitation, “I really like it. Your new look, I mean.” The words surprised me with their sincerity and, despite my initial shock at her transformation, there was something striking, even beautiful about her new form.

And, to my delight, she gave a soft laugh, the ghost of a smile touching her lips. A faint blush crept across her cheeks, the golden-green glow beneath her skin intensifying slightly, encouraging me.

"There's nothing you could do," I continued, emboldened, “nothing you could change about how you look that would keep me from—" I faltered, my heart suddenly racing. "—from you." My cheeks burned. What I'd truly wanted to say was "from loving you," but the words caught in my throat. Not now, not here, not when her emotions hung so precariously.

Still, my hand remained on her arm, a silent promise to stay by her side, to make her feel beautiful and heard despite the hell she’d been through. This was Jessica, after all—my friend from Earth, my anchor in this strange world.

"It's not just the spider form," she said finally, her voice barely above a whisper. "Though that’s…difficult enough."

I nodded, encouraging her to continue.

"I have these…impulses now. Thoughts that don't feel like mine. Sometimes I catch myself thinking in ways that scare me."

"Like what?"

Her gaze dropped. "Violent things. Calculating things. Like I'm turning into a weapon."

"You're stronger than that," I said with conviction. "Whatever's happening, you're still you. You'll always be you."

"How can you be so sure?" she asked, a desperate edge to her voice.

"Because I know you. Because I—" I swallowed the rest of that sentence. "Because you're the strongest person I've ever met."

She offered a watery smile, not entirely convinced but perhaps a little comforted.

We continued talking, her words growing slightly less guarded, though as we did, I felt a prickling sensation at the back of my neck. The feeling of being watched.

I narrowed my eyes, glancing over Ariana's shoulder through the crowd of people on the platform. And there, on the opposite side, stood that person with wrinkly skin and leafy hair, his orange-red-violet eyes fixed directly on me.

Ariana's voice faded to background noise as our gazes locked. That sick feeling bubbled in my gut again—the inexplicable sense that I knew him, that we shared some connection I couldn't quite grasp. My heart pounded, a cold sweat breaking out across my skin despite the sweltering humidity.

Something about him made every instinct scream danger, while simultaneously tugging at memories I couldn't quite access. Who was he? What did he want? And why did simply looking at him fill me with such profound dread?

Chapter 26 - Puny God

The Servant glared at that disturbing Wielder, pushing his fingers into the wooden floorboards until they cracked. His heart pounded, blood boiling as he shifted his gaze from the Wielder to the princess with that golden-green glow. Another flash of familiarity coursed through him—a recognition he couldn't quite place—and anger flaring deep within his gut.

The rage consuming him felt personal, visceral, though he couldn't understand why. These strangers shouldn't matter to him, yet his body reacted as if they were ancient enemies. His fingers drove deeper into the wood, splinters piercing wrinkled skin, pain barely registering against the fury.

The bracer on his forearm crackled with energy, its red-violet crystal flaring. I hate them too, said a voice like static electricity.

The Servant's heart skipped at the intrusion—his goddess, speaking directly into his thoughts.

We both hate them. We both want to see them dead.

"Yes," The Servant hissed, his own voice laced with static, squeezing his hands into fists. “Yes!”

Nearby soldiers—men and women with dark hair, green eyes, and glowing veins—flinched and backed away, giving him a wide berth. He barely noticed them, barely noticed anything beyond the overwhelming urge to rise, to confront Kazro, to attack. The animal impulse surged through him, primal and demanding.

But as he crouched to lunge, his soul tightened—an invisible vice constricting his very essence. He gasped, nearly collapsing as he shook violently, breathing in heavy, rasping gulps.

The Plague Lord's words echoed in his mind: You will obey my voice. You will go to the Blight. You will assist my people and Kazro to destroy the ultimate spawning point.

Sweat like sap dripped from The Servant's wrinkly skin as he panted, gritting his teeth against the oath's restriction.

His goddess chuckled, the sound like dry leaves crackling underfoot. There are ways to break an oath, my child. Ways to get around doing what you’ve promised to do. She paused, her static coursing through his veins like lightning through a storm cloud. Ways, that might break your spirit. Ways, that might kill you.

He could almost feel her smiling, could sense her cruel pleasure.

But…you have me.

"When?" The Servant wheezed, pushing himself up onto hands and knees, forcing his gaze away from Kazro. He stared out across the railing, watching the blur of trees and swamp water as their mount raced onward, the wind whipping his leafy hair back from his face.

He gripped the railing, using it to pull himself upright on trembling legs.

The opportunity will present itself soon, his goddess whispered. We don't need these people. Don't need Gaia's Wielder. A pause. Though, his scythe might come in handy—might get us out of this mess.

The Servant's heart skipped, electricity bursting through his veins. A fresh wave of crackling irritation surged through his soul as he squeezed the railing, wood starting to splinter beneath his grip. Violet bolts crackled along his wrinkled flesh.

He shouldn’t even be here right now—shouldn’t be bound by a damn Wielder! He’d been captured—nearly to the Blight, guided by his goddess, when those idiot archlords found him. They'd tied him up, dragged him before the Plague Lord, and now his soul wore this choking leash of an oath.

There's always a way to break an oath, his goddess whispered again. Always.

Despite his irritation, The Servant felt a flutter of excitement in his chest—though, it seemed to originate more from his goddess than himself. Remember the promise… The promise… The treasures, found in a spawning point, would heal him, would clear the fog that shrouded his mind, would bring back lost memories, would end the nightmares that plagued his sleep.

His gaze drifted back to Kazro and the princess. They were still talking, heads bent close together, and he caught the flash of a smile, heard the soft sound of laughter.

That sent a hot tingle up his spine, an irritation so profound it bordered on physical pain. Somehow, slowly, memories were blooming in his mind—still vague, still just beyond reach, but their presence was triggering something deep within, opening doors long sealed shut. Reminding him of a past long since dead.

His goddess hummed irritably, her attention fixed on Gaia, perched on Kazro's shoulder. We will deal with him, she whispered, hatred dripping from every syllable. I will make sure of that.

The Servant felt his pulse quicken, a hunger rising within, one that mirrored his goddess's malice. They wanted to wrap their hands around the Wielder's throat, watch the light fade from those glowing eyes, feel the life drain from him—it was intoxicating, consuming, overwhelming.

And soon, he promised himself, soon, he would do it.

He would kill that laughing, stupid Wielder and his puny god.

Chapter 27 - Defection

Vireth stood on the balcony, staring out at the great, billowing clouds rolling toward the emerald walls of Gaian City. The dark mass swallowed everything in its path—massive trees, distant hills, entire sections of sky—advancing with unnatural purpose.

His heart pounded as he watched, wondering what the Frost Baroness wanted. What could be important enough to risk leaving her territory? What did she hope to gain?

He drew in a deep breath, tasting a cool aura that now permeated the air. It pressed against him, heavy and insistent, the chill already turning his breath to fog. His armor clinked softly as he shifted his weight, scanning the approaching storm.

Luckily, he wasn’t up here alone.

In his peripheral vision, he noted the Drifters standing nearby. To his right, several wore masks shaped like five-pointed stars and crescents, their hooded cloaks glistening as if threaded with captured starlight. To his left stood Drifters with eyes like flickering fireballs, their robes glowing like dying embers.

The Sundust Sage had hurried to the astral chamber below, seeking to tap into the astral plane to locate Gaia's vestments. Vireth's task was to stall the Baroness while the sage worked—to learn of her intentions.

But he harbored no illusions—she could wipe him out with a thought. If she demanded something, he would obey, if only to stay alive. But…what could she possibly want?

Perhaps she knew of the Sundust Sage? If so, she wouldn’t be foolish enough to come seeking battle against such power. So why, then, had she come?

The possibilities were endless, but guessing at her motives seemed futile. Better to wait and see what she wanted, to hear it from her own lips.

Wind whipped harder across the balcony, snow drifting through the air as the sky darkened further. The rolling wall of clouds advanced inexorably, devouring the land beneath it, and Vireth's chest tightened with dread, his mouth going dry.

How he hated these monarchs—their unchecked power, their casual cruelty. He'd heard how the Skyborn were treated by the Baroness, forced deep into treacherous mountains to mine precious minerals for her pleasure. It mirrored the Plague Lord's slavery of the Spriggans—people Vireth had pretended not to see for so long, had forced himself to ignore, even as their suffering tugged at his conscience.

Now, in the wake of his betrayal, that anguish felt sharper, more immediate. As if in rejecting his former master, he'd finally allowed himself to acknowledge the pain he'd witnessed.

But there was no more time for reflection. The Frost Baroness had arrived.

The vast billowing mass of clouds broke against the walls of Gaian City, enveloping the civilization as if it were protected by an invisible dome. Then, something broke through—a sleigh crafted entirely of ice, its elegant design both beautiful and sinister. A covered compartment shielded its occupant from view as a dozen reindeer with snow-white fur and crystalline antlers pulled it through the air.

The reindeer moved with impossible grace, legs swinging through empty space as if galloping across solid ground, drawing the sleigh toward the castle—toward the balcony—toward Vireth.

Others appeared behind it—heralds riding clouds, several archlords trailing streams of ice crystals as they flew. The sleigh executed a graceful turn to the far left, completing a wide loop before gliding in to stop parallel to the balcony.

The sleigh's top dissolved, melting away into swirling mist, concealing the occupant. Vireth felt the pressure of the aura intensify, a vice squeezing his chest, but he stood tall as the Frost Baroness rose from her seat.

Her glowing eyes emerged first from the mist, twin points of icy blue light that made Vireth's breath catch. As the vapor dissipated, her features became clear—flawless crystalline skin like polished ice, hair white as new snow, cascading to her waist. Her robes shimmered with embedded diamonds, and in her hand she gripped a scepter topped with a gem of perfect, impossibly clear ice.

The door of her sleigh melted away, and she flowed forward onto the balcony with such fluid grace it seemed she barely touched the ground. Ice crystals spread from where her feet landed, crackling across the stone in delicate patterns.

Two archlords landed on either side of her, followed by several heralds. Vireth recognized two immediately.

Sveric stood rigid at her left hand, his crystalline armor gleaming, skin frost-white, cropped hair an icy blue. His expression was serious, almost grim as he stared straight ahead.

On the Baroness's other side stood Sveric's twin, Nyvara. Her light blue hair was pulled back in a tight braid, her frosty skin luminescent in the dim light. When she spotted Vireth, her expression brightened, a broad smile breaking across her face. She waved enthusiastically.

Vireth wrinkled his nose and looked away, though an odd, subtle fondness tugged at him. They’d worked together, just last week, in what felt like another lifetime.

"Reports tell me," the Frost Baroness began, her voice echoing as if from all directions at once, "that Vireth, Herald of the Plague Lord, was seen fighting against his own kind." She brushed imaginary dust from her shoulder with one hand, still gripping her scepter with the other, then fixed him with a penetrating gaze that seemed to pierce his very soul.

Vireth's throat tightened, unwilling to discuss his choices. Better to cut to the heart of the matter.

"Why are you here?" he asked bluntly.

Several archlords flinched at his directness, but the Frost Baroness merely smiled, the expression never reaching her glacial eyes. "Reports also say the Sundust Sage is here, fighting on behalf of the Gaian Kingdom." She took a step forward, ice spreading further across the balcony floor. "Such a rare opportunity cannot be overlooked—a chance to precisely locate my final vestments and eliminate the Plague Lord." Her smile sharpened. “The man you betrayed.”

Tension coiled in Vireth's gut. His mind flashed to Kazro, to the Wielder's sacrifice, to everything he represented—a ruler worth following, worth fighting for. The kind of leader Vireth had always hoped to serve.

He could sense the Frost Baroness's curiosity, almost taste her genuine interest in his defection. Perhaps this was a way to stall her, to engage her in conversation while the Sundust Sage worked below.

But before he could speak, she cut through his thoughts with brutal efficiency.

"Time is of the essence," she declared, all pretense of pleasantries vanishing. "Bring me to the sage. I'm ready to find my final vestments—the exact locations—and we must hurry. The Plague Lord undoubtedly knows I'm here."

Vireth stiffened, considering his options. There was no refusing her, no way to hold back this woman's will. She would have what she came for, one way or another.

With a long sigh, he nodded to the Drifters standing guard and turned toward the doorway. No choice but to lead them to the astral chamber, and hope the sage found what they needed before the Baroness interfered.

As they filed through the doorway, leaving the balcony behind, Vireth couldn't shake the feeling that Gaian City had just traded one danger for another—and he had no idea which would prove the greater threat.

Chapter 28 - Into the Darkness

Ariana shifted in her bed, feeling as if she were about to burst apart. She sucked in a deep breath through her nose, clenching her hands into fists, gritting her teeth, squeezing her eyes shut.

The room jostled around her, and if that had been the only discomfort, she would have slept like a baby. Heck, she'd managed to sleep inside a giant freaking worm before—this was nothing compared to that.

The notification popped up again, the progress of her herald status rising, just seconds away from completion:

[Herald Transformation: 99.4%…99.5%…99.6%…]

Ariana watched it behind her closed lids, tracking each incremental rise with growing anticipation. When it hit 100%, energy exploded from her soul.

Golden-green light radiated from her skin, vines extending from her arms, dress, and legs, spreading across the bed and over the wooden floorboards. Flowers bloomed in their wake, their petals unfurling in the darkness.

[Herald Transformation Complete!]

[Level: 30 → 130]

[Rank: F]

[Health: 190 → 520]

[Magic: 200 → 750]

[Attack: 42 → 185]

[Defense: 65 → 210]

[New Abilities Unlocked:]

[Verdant Growth - Create and control plant life]

[Entangling Roots - Immobilize enemies with binding vines]

[Harvest Essence - Drain life force from enemies to heal allies]

[Nature's Shield - Protective barrier of hardened wood and thorns]

Ariana sat up fast, staring at her glowing hands in wonder, turning them over as the light pulsed beneath her skin. "This is new," she whispered, a thrill racing across skin, goosebumps rising.

Progress. Power. Something to show for all the pain.

But something about her stats confused her.

Where’s my stamina? My speed?

[Health: 520]

[Magic: 750]

[Attack: 185]

[Defense: 210]

[Click To See More]

She clicked it.

[Stamina: 300]

[Speed: 450]

There we go…

Moonlight streamed through the small window of her cabin, casting everything in silver-blue contrast to the golden-green glow. Vines continued to creep across the floor, delicate flowers blossoming as they spread.

Her gaze caught her shadow on the wall—the unmistakable silhouette of spider legs jutting from her back. The sight never got old, her heart skipping and fluttering, but not in a good way. A reminder of what she'd become.

Deep red flowers clustered in one corner caught her attention, their color too vivid, too familiar. Just like the blood she'd woken to find on her hands yesterday morning. On her clothes. On the floor.

Her insides went cold. She'd dreamed of people screaming, running from her—of those too injured to flee, those she’d sunk her teeth into…

Ariana squeezed her eyes shut and shivered, looking away. Hating that nightmare…

Nightmare?

She shivered. No… There was no denying it, no pretending. For some reason, while unconscious, she had gone out and…killed.

Her heart pounded against her ribs, sweat slicking her skin. She hadn't heard reports from anyone, but why would she? There was so much chaos in Gaian City, so much disorder. Who would send a messenger about an attack on, what, a hospital? An apothecary?

She breathed in and out, feeling sick. Feeling…evil. Feeling…like a monster, and even more terrified that she'd do it again.

Perhaps that was another reason sleep eluded her. The thought of losing consciousness, of something else taking control, of attacking and killing without her even wanting to—it was paralyzing.

She stared at her shadow again—the spider legs, the strange proportions of her face, the emerald-golden light radiating from her skin, and as she focused on that light, Kazro's face immediately came to mind. Their conversation earlier, the kindness in his eyes, the smile on his ridiculously handsome face.

There's nothing you could do, nothing you could change about how you look that would keep me from you.

She’d felt something then—a warmth in her chest, a burst of emotion she'd wanted to express, wanted to give voice to, but held back because of the cold fear surrounding it—the fear of speaking her deepest feelings. It would have been easier in her old body, with her old face, not this creepy, alien one.

Before she could continue the thought, she caught a whiff of something—something beyond the petrichor permeating her room. Something sweet. Something that made her stomach growl with sudden, intense hunger.

Her legs moved as if of their own accord. She stood, then forced herself to stop, heart hammering. This smell… She sniffed again. Not blood, it couldn't be. It was almost metallic, but not quite.

Her stomach growled, and before she knew what was happening, she was already opening her door, moving down the hallway, the structure shifting beneath her feet as the massive centipede carrying them continued its relentless forward motion. Her spider legs balanced her automatically, compensating for each lurch and sway.

She slowed down, frowning, really questioning herself, hating how easily she was drawn to this scent. But her stomach growled again, a hollow ache that couldn't be ignored. She had to find out what it was. She couldn't starve herself.

Down another hallway, she saw a door cracked open. Her sharp hearing picked up soft slicing sounds. Someone cutting food for breakfast, perhaps? The moons were still out, but maybe the cooks were preparing ahead of time.

But as she peeked into the room, her stomach dropped.

That man with wrinkly skin, glowing eyes, and leafy hair sat cross-legged on the floor, wielding a knife and slicing at his own arm. Sap-like blood spattered across the floorboards, the sweet, metallic scent overpowering in its closeness.

Her skin prickled as his brilliant orange eyes—flickering with hints of red-violet—locked onto hers.

That same sense of familiarity burst through her, and suddenly, a memory attacked her mind:

A person chasing her through the snow, through a vineyard, socking her in the neck, snapping her wind pipe.

Killing her.

She shrieked—not just in the flashback but in reality, the sound tearing from her throat as she staggered backward. The man gasped, backing away, blood dripping down his arm, eyes going wide.

Ariana stumbled again, her heart pounding, then turned and sprinted away, a horrible mix of rage, shock, and terror propelling her forward and into the darkness.

Chapter 29 - He's Here

A notification popped up, interrupting my meditation.

[Herald Transformation Complete: Ariana]

[Level: 130]

[Rank: F]

[HP: 520]

[MP: 750]

[Attack: 185]

[Defense: 210]

[Stamina: 300]

[Speed: 450]

[Your Stats Updated:]

Name: Kazro

Class: Transcendent

Subclass: Sower

Level: 165 → 265

XP: 0 XP

Rank: F

Attributes:

●            Health (HP): 1,960 → 2,290

●            Magic (MP): 3,130 → 3,680

●            Stamina: 998 → 1,100

●            Attack: 1,044 → 1,187

●            Defense: 834 → 979

●            Speed: 300 → 550

Warmth flooded through me. I breathed deeply, then sighed golden-green mist—though I noticed it was tinged black. Sitting cross-legged on the wooden floorboards, hands resting on my knees, I opened my eyes to glance at Archimedes.

He mirrored my position, his cloak concealing most of his body, shimmering as if it had been stripped directly from the night sky. His face flickered with royal blue flames, his glowing eyes narrowed to slits as he maintained his meditative state. His wide-brimmed hat cast shadows across his features, adding to his otherworldly appearance.

One fiery eye peeked open.

"Sorry," I murmured, breathing in again and slowly closing my eyes.

I couldn't help but smile. The moment felt nostalgic, reminding me of when I first met Archimedes—those early days of travel together, meditating side by side, him helping me heal from trauma. There was something profoundly comforting about returning to this practice, especially now, when everything around us was so uncertain.

Gaia floated somewhere inside my spirit, humming contentedly. I could feel his satisfaction, his own appreciation for this moment of calm before the storm that surely awaited us. But mostly, I sensed his excitement about Ariana's transformation.

So much stronger now, he whispered, his voice a gentle ripple through my consciousness.

The knowledge made me feel better, more secure about her safety. I could sense her more clearly now, the connection between us strengthened by her herald status. But my attention remained primarily on Archimedes, sitting before me, though I was aware of Scarlet and Kli'Taka resting somewhere behind me.

"Are you ready?" Archimedes whispered.

Eyes still closed, I held out my arms. His hands clasped my wrists, warm and surprisingly solid despite their flame-like appearance.

“Ready.”

Earlier, Gaia suggested that meditation—and perhaps cycling some of Archimedes' essence into my soul—might loosen the oath binding my soul. Not enough to break the oath, but enough to make it easier to shatter when the time came…

When I reached the same divine power level as the Plague Lord.

We both sucked in a deep breath, then exhaled in perfect synchronization. I felt Archimedes' energy crackling where his hands gripped my wrists. On my next inhale, that energy—minty, fresh, with a pleasant heat—flowed into my spirit, racing up my arms, through my shoulders, spreading throughout my chest and down into my gut.

No matter what happened here, our path forward remained clear: enter the Blight, find the spawning point, raise my XP, level both crown and scythe to five, then transcend them. The chances of breaking the contract here and now were slim, but loosening it might make all the difference when the real opportunity came.

Of course, I would have preferred to return to Gaian City, to train there, to search for Gaia's other vestments—but Vireth was doing exactly that. That thought sent a thrill through me. The herald who had once tried to conquer Gaian City was now on my side…

My heart fluttered with excitement at the possibilities. I would grow stronger in the Blight while Vireth located another divine vestment. Both paths bringing me closer to freedom from the Plague Lord's contract, to returning to Gaian City, to protecting the Windwhisper Wilds from all who would threaten them.

My mind tingled as I felt Archimedes' awareness brush against my thoughts. He’d been listening, watching, following the flow of my consciousness. For a moment, he hesitated, then his voice echoed inside my skull.

Gaian City and the Whisperwind Wilds are not the only places that are going to need you.

Images flashed through my head—the Spriggans with their wrinkled skin and glowing eyes, taskmasters whipping them into submission, the pain I felt watching from above and doing nothing to stop it.

They were oppressed, bullied, lorded over unfairly.

My heart hammered faster, a burning sense of injustice rising in my gut. Part of me wondered if I should stay out of it, focus solely on the Wilds. I was the Guardian of the Wilds, after all. That was my appointed role, my clear purpose.

But another part of me felt conflicted. Would I really turn a blind eye to suffering beyond my designated borders? Weren't there more kingdoms in need of help, protection, justice, liberation?

Then other thoughts flowed in—memories that weren't my own. Archimedes watching his clan slaughtered before his eyes, a searing pain of loss. Another image: Sa’Khari with their ruby eyes, tan skin, and nomadic clothing, trudging through swamplands, soldiers with spears at their backs. With these visions came suppressed rage, hot and potent.

I…didn't realize Sa’Khari were in Gloomswallow. I knew some of the Frost Baroness's soldiers had been taken prisoner by the Plague Lord, but the Sa’Khari were a surprise. “Why are you showing this to me?”

I felt a jolt of alarm from Archimedes, his thoughts pulling back, fading from mine. We fell silent again, the only sensation the warm, minty, crackling fire flowing through my soul.

The pain I'd glimpsed in his memories was raw, unhealed. I wanted to say something, to acknowledge what I'd seen, but Archimedes spoke first.

“I…still have some healing to do,” he admitted quietly. “It's partly why I suggested meditating together.”

“Well, you've come to the right god," Gaia chimed in, still flowing inside my soul, radiating warmth.

“And you've come to the right friend,” I whispered.

Having overcome my own pain, having finally forgiven my father after so so long, I felt a powerful desire to help Archimedes find that same peace. He’d been my guide when I needed one most—perhaps now I could return that favor. "Your guidance helped me face my demons," I told him. "Let me help you with yours."

“I appreciate the offer,” Archimedes replied, his flame-face flickering with what might have been a smile. “But I am not sure—” He twitched suddenly, breaking our connection. I frowned, watching his reaction.

A faint buzzing sound filled the air between us.

"Pip," Gaia explained. "Sending a message."

We slowly broke away from our meditation as Archimedes pressed his fingers to his forehead, his eyes narrowing in concentration. Before he could relay whatever news she'd sent, I sensed someone approaching—fast, frantic, familiar.

Ariana.

I rose quickly to my feet just as she burst through the door. Her body glowed golden and emerald, her cat-like eyes wide with panic, spider legs jutting from her back and quivering with tension. She stumbled forward, grabbing my arms, nearly knocking me backward with the force of her momentum.

"Carson!" she shouted, her voice cracking. "He's here! He's here!"

Chapter 30 - Cryosa

Vireth strode across the hall, spine stiff, the air around him growing increasingly frigid.

The Frost Baroness's entourage surrounded him—heralds and archlords flanking him like an honor guard, though he was anything but an honored guest. He could sense more archlords not far behind, and the Baroness herself hovering near them, speaking softly to her commanders. Their conversation seemed deliberately muted, unable to reach Vireth's ears despite their proximity.

His attention remained fixed on the hallway ahead, where emerald walls and carpets were already beginning to freeze. Even the webs dangling from the ceiling and the bug splatters on the walls frosted over. At the end of the corridor lay the entrance to the king's private chambers—and beyond that, the astral chamber where the Sundust Sage was surely working.

Vireth intentionally slowed his pace, buying as much time as possible. Several minutes ago, the Drifters had vanished, leaving him alone with the Frost Baroness's forces—a calculated move, no doubt, to prepare defenses elsewhere, because the sage needed no warning of their approach; the Baroness's distinctive aura was unmistakable, a chill that preceded her like a herald of its own.

Two familiar figures stepped up beside Vireth, one on either side. He couldn't suppress a soft groan.

"Doing well?" Nyvara asked, her voice light and teasing.

Vireth only snorted in response.

She snorted back, a perfect mimicry of his dismissive sound.

He cocked an eyebrow, glancing sideways at her. Nyvara was staring straight ahead, but a broad smile curved her lips, highlighting her delicate features.

"Typical Vireth," she said, "speaking in snorts and grunts. If only I knew such a primitive language."

Vireth rolled his eyes, hyper-aware of how inappropriate it was for heralds to be conversing casually with their queen so close by. Yet he couldn't help feeling somewhat charmed by Nyvara's irreverence.

He glanced over at Sveric, usually so stern and unyielding. To his surprise, Sveric's expression was soft, almost distant. "How is he?" he asked quietly, the admiration in his tone unmistakable.

No need to ask who "he" was; the admiration Sveric radiated mirrored Vireth's own growing reverence. "Growing stronger by the day," Vireth replied, feeling a subtle pride that surprised him. "He faced Shahar, you know. Stood against a literal titan when the Plague Lord himself would not."

"We heard," Nyvara cut in. “Word travels fast, even in the Frostlands.” She hesitated. “Is it true he bonded with…you know…”

"Just Gaia, officially," Vireth clarified. "Though he bears his mark."

Sveric’s jaw tightened. “Vlindakh…”

Vireth nodded. "The snake has his hooks in him, but Kazro resists."

"Impressive," Sveric murmured.

The conversation lulled, and an unexpected awkwardness settled over Vireth. These two had been comrades once, if only for a week. Now they were…what? Enemies? The designation felt wrong. He no longer served the Plague Lord, but did that automatically align him against the Frost Baroness?

"How are things in the Frostlands?" he asked, breaking the silence.

Nyvara snorted, frustration evident in the sound. "We've had a Wielder causing trouble in the mountains. You know, where the Skyborn work."

Vireth's interest piqued. He knew those mountains well—or, more accurately, knew of them. Treacherous peaks where the Skyborn labored in mines, extracting precious metals and crystals for the Baroness. Nominally, they were paid for their work, but the arrangement was closer to indentured servitude than fair employment. Few had any real choice in the matter. Though, that wasn’t what caught Vireth’s attention.

“A Wielder…” he repeated. "Who?"

"Unknown," Sveric said. "Someone new, with vestments we don't recognize."

This was surprising news. Vireth had heard rumors of a Wielder the Plague Lord had captured skulking across his territory. Could there be more appearing? Was it possible the gods were intentionally seeking Wielders, trying to return to a world that had once shattered them?

"The Baroness isn't overly concerned," Nyvara continued. "She has archlords attending to the matter." She hesitated, glancing at her brother.

"But she may need to intervene personally," Sveric added. "Though it's lower on her priorities for now."

They finally reached the king's study—a grand chamber with books lining the walls, a massive desk of polished emerald dominating the center, and an opening in the back where stairs descended into the earth, lined with glowing emerald crystals.

As they entered, the Sundust Sage was just ascending those stairs, his presence immediately filling the room with hot, palpable power. Vireth was surprised by how strongly it clashed with the Baroness's frigid aura—like fire meeting ice, creating a pressure in the air that made it difficult to breathe.

The Sage's eyes flickered like twin fireballs beneath his wide-brimmed hat, his robed cloak adorned with a fiery design that seemed to dance and shift with a life of its own. Drifters stood around him, some with masks shaped like stars and crescent moons, others wearing robes that glowed like embers.

"The Frost Baroness," Vireth announced formally, stepping aside as the others did the same.

She floated forward, touching down on the carpet with impossible grace. Frost spread from beneath her feet, crystallizing the fibers in intricate patterns. The temperature in the room plummeted further.

Vireth watched the two figures assess each other, neither speaking immediately. The tension was so thick it felt like another presence in the room. He noticed a tiny wisp with translucent insect wings resting on the Sage's shoulder, its reddish glow pulsing slightly.

The Baroness broke the silence first, her voice like the crack of ice on a frozen lake. "I require your services, Sage. You will tap into the astral plane and locate my remaining vestments—their exact positions."

It wasn't a request. It was a command, issued with the absolute certainty of one unaccustomed to refusal.

The Sundust Sage seemed to expand slightly, rising to his full height. "I have no interest in giving you more power than you already possess, Baroness. Your ambitions are clear enough."

The temperature dropped further. Vireth could see his own breath now, crystallizing in the air before him.

"Perhaps you misunderstand," the Baroness said, her tone deceptively gentle. "I'm not requesting. I'm informing you of what will occur."

"And perhaps you forget who you're addressing," the sage countered. "I am no subject of yours. The goddess you serve is not one the Drifters recognize as worthy of our aid."

Vireth's eyebrows rose at this direct challenge. He knew little of the Frost Baroness's goddess beyond whispered rumors—that she was ancient, predating many of the other deities, that her hunger for dominion was insatiable, her methods ruthless.

Light blue mist began radiating from the Baroness, coalescing above her. Vireth wondered if her goddess would materialize fully as Gaia sometimes did, though he'd heard Cryosa was notoriously private, rarely showing herself except to her chosen Wielder.

"This city and most of its inhabitants will perish if you force my hand," the Baroness said coolly. "Surely we can reach a compromise—a contract of mutual benefit."

The sage considered this, stroking his beard thoughtfully. Vireth felt his chest tighten. A battle between these two powers would devastate what remained of Gaian City, likely killing thousands in the process.

"An agreement might be possible," the sage said finally. "If I make an oath to help locate your vestments, you must swear to protect Kazro and aid in breaking his contract with the Plague Lord."

Vireth blinked, surprised by the stipulation. The respect the sage apparently held for Kazro was evident, despite their brief acquaintance. But it made sense—Kazro represented hope for this fractured world.

"Gaia's Wielder is this realm's best chance at survival," the sage continued. "His growth must be protected at all costs."

“What about me?” the Baroness asked, tension rippling through her voice. “I too seek to unite this region, to build a kingdom strong enough to withstand any threat.”

Vireth knew what her version of "unity" meant—an eternal winter blanketing the land, Skyborn forced to mine ever deeper into the mountains. The question that always nagged at him was: what was she truly seeking down there? Resources, yes, but something more specific seemed to drive her relentless expansion of the mines.

"You would freeze this land and call it protection," Vireth said suddenly, unable to contain himself any longer. “Kazro has no motive but to help, to build, to grow. Unlike your goddess, Gaia is a God of Life, a deity of hope and renewal!”

The Frost Baroness's face darkened, the mist above her expanding and taking form—a blue-white face with sharp horns, angled eyes, and fangs like icicles.

Cryosa herself, materializing in response to the insult.

“INSOLENT HERALD!” the goddess boomed, her voice like the crack of a glacier splitting.

Vireth staggered but stood his ground, bolstered by the Sage's presence. “I speak only truth! Your rise brings only suffering to those beneath you. The Skyborn slave away in your mines, hating the life they live!”

"MY ASCENSION WILL PROTECT THIS REALM," Cryosa snarled. "FROM THE BLIGHT, FROM THREATS BEYOND OUR BORDERS, FROM OTHER WIELDERS WHO WOULD CLAIM WHAT IS MINE."

"Enough." The Sundust Sage's voice cut through the confrontation, quieter yet more commanding than the goddess's thunderous tones. "This achieves nothing."

The Baroness and her floating deity turned to face him, the tension in the room almost unbearable. Several archlords and heralds shot venomous looks at Vireth, but he noticed that Sveric and Nyvara were watching him with expressions of calm respect. Nyvara even offered a small, encouraging smile.

"We will make our contract," the sage continued. "You will commit to protecting Kazro, aiding in breaking his oath to the Plague Lord, and placing no contract of your own upon him. In return, I will help locate your remaining vestments through the astral plane."

The Baroness considered this, the goddess above her slowly fading back to mist. "Acceptable," the goddess said finally. "Let it be done." Then, she melted into the Baroness’s crown.

As the Sage led her toward the stairway to the astral chamber, Vireth’s heart pounded, his stomach sinking. He'd hoped to give the sage enough time to locate Gaia's vestments first, to prioritize Kazro's needs above the Baroness's ambitions.

A tiny buzz near his ear broke through his frustration. Something small landed on his shoulder—that red-blue wisp, glowing faintly and trying to remain inconspicuous.

"The Sundust Sage has located the general direction of Gaia's vestments," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Vireth straightened, keeping his expression neutral to avoid drawing attention.

“I know where they are, and I want to help,” she continued. “Follow me.”

Chapter 31 - An Old Enemy

I held Ariana tight as she shook, trying to absorb what she'd just told me.

Carson? Here?

The name triggered a flash of memory—that night in the snow, running through the vineyard, desperate to save Ariana from that red-haired, freckle-faced jerk.

But I'd failed. He'd killed us both.

I frowned, holding her, squeezing tight, feeling her trembling against me. Her spider legs jutted from her back, angling away from our embrace, but I barely noticed them. My thoughts were a storm of confusion, disbelief.

Why was Carson here?

Had he died too?

And if so, how?

A spike of anger flared in my chest before my training kicked in. I breathed deeply, centering myself, finding that calm place within. Weeks of healing had given me tools to weather this emotional tempest.

I felt like an immovable stone in the midst of a churning sea—Ariana's emotions washing over me but unable to erode my foundation. In that moment of clarity, I realized just how deep her pain ran.

Archimedes wasn't the only one who needed healing.

I felt Gaia's agreement radiate within, the god's warmth pulsing in silent confirmation.

"Where is he?" I finally asked, my voice steady.

"I found him in a room," she whispered against my shoulder. "He was cutting his arms, slicing at them with a knife." She pulled back slightly, eyes wide. "It's that wrinkly-skinned guy with the leafy hair and glowing eyes—the one who's been watching us, the one we both recognized but couldn't place."

My eyes widened as things clicked into place. Of course—it made perfect sense. This was similar to how I'd recognized Jessica, despite her new face. Our souls recognized each other across this veil of transformation.

I let out a shaky breath, uncertain what to do with this news. What could I possibly say? This was our killer, our murderer, here in the flesh.

One lesson from my healing journey stood out clearly in this moment: You could forgive people, could heal and let go—but that did not mean what they did was okay. And it did not mean you had to forget how they hurt you, how they wronged you.

How they killed you.

You could forgive but never forget. Remember, not as a way of holding onto anger or grudges, but as a way to protect yourself against further harm.

I felt no desire to approach Carson. Quite the opposite—I wanted distance between us.

A good option, Gaia whispered in my mind. I know the goddess Carson serves. She’s rather…erratic. Unstable. Unhinged, if you know what I mean.

"I think I get the picture," I murmured, hugging Ariana tighter as she pressed against me.

Archimedes stood nearby, his fiery face flickering as he watched us with glowing eyes. The combined light from all of us—my golden-green mist, Ariana's emerald glow, Archimedes' blue flames—cast the plain wooden room in otherworldly luminescence.

Scarlet padded closer, pressing her wet snout against my back while Kli'Taka hovered protectively nearby.

His goddess is not one of the five trapped beneath Gaian City, Gaia continued, but he's dangerous nonetheless. Even with just one vestment, Carson is a threat.

I nodded, but something Gaia said caught my attention—the five gods trapped beneath Gaian City. I remembered how he'd compared the city to a lock, holding the dark gods of destruction in place. The reminder only strengthened my resolve to grow stronger, to transcend my vestments, to break this contract and return to protect Gaian City.

A shadow fell across the doorway. Ariana and I jumped, breaking apart slightly—but it was just Archlord Tenebris, his three eyes gleaming in the dim light, armor spiking at the joints.

"The Blight is in view," he announced, voice flat. "Report to the main deck immediately." His glare lingered, the scars on his face and dents in his armor a stark reminder of our fight.

He turned and walked away without waiting for a response.

I looked to my friends and nodded. We filed out of the room, hurrying through narrow hallways and emerging onto the open deck, my arm wrapped firmly around Ariana's waist. She clung to me, face pressed against my shoulder, and I felt that familiar rush of excitement for her—complicated, unexpected, but unquestionably real.

Wind rushed past us as we strode across the main deck. The massive centipede beneath continued its relentless forward motion, each of its countless legs moving in perfect synchronization. The air felt thinner here, less humid than before, carrying a taste of dust that tickled the back of my throat.

We made our way toward the front, passing heralds and soldiers and the occasional archlord. As we reached the forward railing, I noticed how the landscape had changed. The dense swamp was thinning, giving way to scattered pools of stagnant water amidst increasingly barren ground. Campsites dotted the terrain, tents clustered together with fires burning low.

Soldiers moved between the camps, some of them Spriggans with their wrinkled skin and glowing eyes. Some campsites were close enough that I could see individual faces, while others stretched into the near distance.

And beyond them all lay a vast chasm, cutting through the earth like an open wound.

Archlord Tenebris stepped up beside me, his posture rigid as he stared across the swamp. "This section of the border isn't as active," he explained. "The voidlings don't usually cross this chasm, though they have in the past. Which is why we came here. It represents our best chance at crossing the border without a major skirmish."

The centipede was slowing now, giving me time to observe the soldiers watching from below. I glimpsed wounded fighters being tended to in makeshift infirmaries, haggard faces gazing up at our passing with mixtures of awe and wariness.

A sobering realization hit me then—these people relied on the Plague Lord. There were thousands more, perhaps hundreds of thousands, stationed along the border, holding back fiends pushing into their lands.

Defeating the Plague Lord had been part of the plan, but seeing these defenders gave me pause. If I took out the Plague Lord, what would happen to all these people? Would they follow me instead? How could I possibly lead them if they did?

"You're thinking too far ahead," Gaia murmured, sensing my turmoil. "Focus on getting stronger first."

"And then what?" I whispered back. "Destroy their leader and leave them leaderless against this threat?"

"Perhaps there's a middle path," Archimedes interjected softly, having overheard our exchange. "Strong enough not to kill him, but to put him under contract instead."

The suggestion struck home—a perfect inversion of our current situation. Could I become powerful enough to bind the Plague Lord himself? To compel him to use his power for good rather than controlling others through fear?

As we drew closer to the vast chasm, I strained to see the land beyond. The Blight appeared as a gray expanse dotted with jagged rock outcroppings. A sickly haze hung in the air, and in the far distance, spire-like mountains pierced the horizon.

An unnerving feeling settled in my gut, and it wasn't just the deadness permeating the air. There was something else—something neither Gaia nor I could quite identify.

"Do you feel that?" Ariana whispered, her fingers tightening around my arm.

I nodded, the sensation growing stronger the closer we advanced toward the chasm. Something waited for us in the Blight. Something aware. Something hungry.

And it knew we were coming.

Chapter 32 - Broken Oaths

The Servant staggered through the hall, his shoulder slamming into the wall. The entire corridor seemed to tremble around him—or was that just his vision? He panted, chest constricting as he pushed his palms against the rough-hewn wall for balance. Blood like dried sap caked his sliced-up arm, the skin wrinkled and oddly textured beneath the yellow crust.

Leafy hair hung in his face as his body shook uncontrollably, images of Jessica flashing through his mind—no, not Jessica. Princess Ariana. But they were the same person, weren't they? The girl he'd chased. The girl who'd rejected him. The girl he'd—

His breath caught. He couldn't finish the thought.

She was here. Actually here. The one he'd killed.

The realization slammed into him like a punch to the gut, memories were blooming back, unfurling like poisonous flowers in his consciousness. They'd always been there, lurking beneath the surface, but now they took shape with horrifying clarity. His mind crackled as if lightning danced between his thoughts, short-circuiting his ability to process them

“We were going to travel to the Blight together,” the goddess within whispered, seemingly oblivious to his anguish. “Just you and I, because if we're going to get there, if we're going to get what we want, we can't have so many with us.”

The Servant barely registered her words. His entire being shook, fragments of that night replaying in his mind—the cold biting at his skin, the weight in his hands, the sound of something hard striking the back of his skull. Then, darkness.

His fingernails dug into his scalp, hands squeezing his leafy hair and pulling until pain lanced through his roots. He continued staggering down the corridor, passing soldiers with green armor and glowing veins, each one casting wary glances his way but kept their distance.

There's no promise any of our vestments are in that massive spawning point, the goddess continued, her voice a constant drone in his fractured consciousness. But there are other precious things to be found in the Blight, in those spawning points…those towers…

Red-violet electricity crackled along his limbs, zipping up his spine like a crawling insect. His back straightened involuntarily, muscles seizing. He gasped, dragging air into his lungs in ragged bursts, in and out, in and out.

The pain you feel, the goddess whispered, voice like silk wrapped around a blade, it all can be healed with the Blight. With the treasures that lie within the major spawning tower…

A deep hunger welled up within The Servant, primal and insistent. It clawed at his insides, driving him forward toward some invisible goal. He needed to reach that tower. Needed to do something—anything—to exorcise this feeling of hellfire burning in his chest.

But there was something else too, another hunger that made his mouth water and his heart race. Too many people. Too many eyes. Too many witnesses to what he might do.

He shoved through a nearby door and slammed it shut behind him, finding himself in an empty bedroom. No windows broke the monotony of the walls—this was the lowest floor of the massive structure carried on the back of the giant centipede.

“You know what needs to be done,” the goddess whispered.

The Servant nodded frantically, dropping to his knees. His fingers became claws, ripping at the floorboards, peeling them back with strength he didn't know he possessed. Splinters jabbed under his nails, but he barely felt them. Through the opening he created, he could see the glossy carapace of the centipede below, its surface gleaming with an oily sheen.

“If we're going to get rid of Kazro too, this needs to be done.”

The Servant's heart skipped, his chest suddenly expanding with something close to euphoria. Freedom. Promise. If he annihilated Kazro, this feeling of hell inside him would go away. The goddess was offering salvation.

And, yet, there was something else fueling him—a deep-rooted hatred for Kazro. For Wyatt.

He couldn’t help but find himself in the hallways of their high school, seeing Jessica—Ariana—glance over at Wyatt. Talking with him. Laughing with him. Her eyes lighting up when he walked into the room.

And never, not once, had she looked at him that way. Never had she shown even the slightest hint of interest or affection. The rejection burned in his gut, acid eating away at whatever humanity remained inside him.

But there were other memories too, older and darker. His mother's face, permanently fixed in an expression of disinterest. The dirty apartment. The empty refrigerator. The way she'd step over him as if he were just another piece of furniture in her way.

And his brothers. God, his brothers.

Pulling him into a room. The door locking behind them. The way they'd slap him, their laughter ringing in his ears as they shoved him to the floor.

Let's do another experiment on him, they'd say, voices distorted. See how much he can take this time.

“No!” The Servant screamed.“NO!” He blinked, panting, finding himself back in the room, still tearing at the floorboards. Splinters burst across the room as electricity crackled up and down his arms. “No…” he whimpered.

You know what to do.

Almost without thinking, he reached out to touch the centipede's carapace, but the moment his fingers neared the chitinous surface, the oath binding his spirit clenched like a fist around his heart.

He gritted his teeth, a guttural sound escaping his throat. His oath had been clear—help the Plague Lord by reaching the spawning tower and destroying it, protecting allies, and delivering any treasure they found.

The goddess within seemed to observe his conflict, and The Servant could almost feel her smirk.

“Oaths are all about intent,” she said, her crackling voice like static in his mind. “The contract you made knows exactly what you intend…”

The door burst open.

A herald stood in the threshold, green skin glowing in the dim light, a snake coiled around their neck like a living scarf. Behind them, soldiers with wide eyes took in the destruction. The herald's face transformed from shock to rage in an instant.

With a gesture, they summoned a spear of energy and slammed it into The Servant's shoulder. Instead of piercing flesh, a crackling explosion burst on impact, reducing that part of his shoulder to molten bits, the force hurled him backward. He slammed into the wall with a scream that tore at his throat.

The herald launched forward, crossing the distance in a single bound. Strong fingers clamped around The Servant's neck, pinning him against the wall.

He screamed and scrambled, quick flashes overwhelming his vision—his brothers holding him down, their friends circling around, some with needles, some with other instruments he couldn't identify. The room was always dark, always dank, but their laughter was clear as they stood over him.

Now, you are in danger, the goddess spoke directly into his mind. And you promised to protect the allies of the Plague Lord. A pause, then, You are an ally of the Plague Lord, are you not?

The herald's grip tightened, cutting off his air. Darkness crept in from the edges of his vision, consciousness slowly fading as panic surged through him. He felt his oath and contract loosening, becoming more malleable as his mind slipped toward oblivion.

His vision faded to a red-violet hue, electricity crackling across his entire body. His mind grew numb, thoughts fragmenting as consciousness slipped away.

The goddess's final whisper followed him into darkness: And besides…you're the one who made the oath…not me.

His world went completely red-violet, and then, nothing.

Chapter 33 - Rage Boost

I clutched the railing, wind whipping my hair and stinging my eyes. The air tasted of dust and distant decay, coating my tongue with each breath. Ahead, the chasm loomed, a vast wound in the earth growing larger with each passing moment, thunderous steps resonating through the planks beneath my feet.

And there, beyond the chasm, was the Blight—an endless expanse of grayness, rock spires jutting like broken teeth against the predawn sky. The moons were setting, their pale light fading as the first hints of sunrise threatened the eastern horizon, but even in this half-light, the desolation across the gap was unmistakable.

But it was not only that. Something felt…wrong. Deeply, fundamentally wrong. The sensation had nestled in my chest since waking, and proximity to this unholy divide only intensified it.

Hold on tight, Gaia whispered in my mind. This part gets interesting.

I glanced back and noticed soldiers and heralds driving their weapons into the wooden deck, anchoring themselves. The platform was riddled with similar puncture marks—evidence of countless previous crossings. My stomach tightened.

A shriek split the air—the centipede's cry so loud it vibrated through my ribcage and sent pain lancing through my ears. I gripped the railing until my knuckles whitened.

The centipede launched itself off the edge and my stomach lurched into my throat. What the hell! I'd assumed it would crawl down the vertical face of the chasm, but instead, we were suspended over an abyss so deep I couldn't make out its bottom.

Great, gossamer wings erupted from the centipede's sides, unfurling with a sound like sails catching wind. They began to buzz, vibrating so fast they became translucent blurs, somehow supporting the impossible weight of this massive creature.

The pit in my stomach deepened. A sense of wrongness expanded within me, filling my chest with cold dread. I scanned the faces around me, shocked that no one else seemed to sense it—especially not the heralds or archlords.

The archlords flew alongside us, bug-like wings buzzing on their backs as they glided on either side of our living transport. Their spears glowed with a toxic green aura, ready to defend against whatever might rise from the depths.

Gaia was trying to tell me something, but the lifelessness of the chasm beneath and the dead aura permeating the air made it difficult to perceive his thoughts. The connection between us felt muffled, as if something was interfering with our bond.

"I feel it too," Archimedes murmured beside me, his  flame-face flickering, eyes glowing like stars in the dimness. "Something is not right."

A chorus of high-pitched shrieks drew my attention downward. Dark shapes emerged from the shadows below, rising toward us in an undulating cloud.

As they drew closer, I could make out bat-like creatures composed of dark mist—or perhaps solid monsters simply trailing darkness. I summoned my scythe, the weapon materializing in my hand with comforting weight. The emerald glow of its blade cast a warm light across the deck.

The archlords dove to intercept the swarm, unleashing waves of toxic energy that disintegrated hundreds of the creatures in single blasts. The bats evaporated on contact, dissolving into wisps of shadow before fading entirely.

But even as the aerial battle raged, I felt something else—a familiar static aura radiating from deep beneath us, from somewhere inside the wooden structure on the centipede's back. The sensation crawled up my spine like ice water, raising goosebumps across my skin.

I looked to Archimedes, then to Ariana. Their eyes had gone wide with recognition. We all knew exactly what—who—that aura belonged to.

“Krypkryla,” Gaia practically growled. “I told you that goddess is erratic.”

We all stood frozen, wondering why her power was radiating so potently from below, while around us, heralds and soldiers continued launching attacks at the swarm of shadow bats.

Was Carson fighting creatures below deck? Things that managed to sneak aboard? I let out a shaky breath, trying to ignore it, but it only grew worse, more potent, the hairs on my neck standing on end.

Something wasn’t right.

And I couldn't hold back any longer.

I sprinted across the deck, my allies close behind, and kicked open a trapdoor that led into the bowels of the structure. Archimedes, Scarlet, and Kli'Taka followed immediately. Ariana hesitated, her eyes wide with shock and something darker—fear—before falling in behind us.

"Wyatt," she whispered, using my Earth name as she caught up. Her voice trembled slightly. "It's him, isn't it? Carson."

I nodded grimly. "Stay close to me."

"What if—" she started, then swallowed hard. “What if he's still the same? What if he still wants to…”

I reached out and squeezed her hand, feeling her trembling fingers. "I won't let him hurt you. Not again. Not ever."

The sickness in my stomach intensified. The prospect of confronting Carson—the man who’d killed us both in our previous life, the man now possessed by a chaotic goddess—filled me with dread.

“Don't hold back,” Gaia instructed, his voice grim. “Anyone possessed by this goddess is unhinged. Taking them out would be an incredible mercy.”

I nodded automatically, but doubt crept in. Despite my history with Carson, despite the justified hatred burning in my chest…could I really kill him? Again, my mind flashed back to Earth, to the moment when I'd had no choice but to attack him. The memory made me nauseous.

But why! Why would it? This was our killer, and he deserved to die…

As we descended deeper into the halls, the evidence of Carson's rampage became clear. Bodies of heralds and soldiers lay strewn across the floor, some still twitching, others unmoving. Cries of pain and fear echoed from nearby corridors.

A brilliant red-violet flash erupted at the end of the hallway, followed by a herald flying backward through the air. They slammed into the ground several feet away, a smoking hole punched clean through their chest, eyes frozen wide in death.

And there, at the corridor's end, stood Carson. His leafy hair danced as if caught in an invisible breeze. His wrinkled skin glowed with an internal light, and his eyes—no longer containing even a hint of orange—blazed solid red-violet.

Panic spiked through me, sharp and cold. I felt it echoed in my companions, especially Ariana, who flinched beside me, her breathing fast and shallow as she backed away.

I stepped forward, sickened by the carnage. "What are you doing?" I yelled, my voice cracking. Carson's goddess was erratic, but this level of killing—this was beyond what I'd expected. "You're supposed to be helping!"

My heart pounded as I stared into those red-violet eyes. This was him—truly him. The one who killed Ariana and me in that other life. My fists clenched, emotions warring inside me. I'd wanted to subdue him, to keep him under control, but faced with the bodies of his victims, with the truth of what he was…

I quickly scanned him, an automatic response born of caution, and what I saw made my heart skip. Only one divine vestment, but level five, and his power level was off the charts. This wasn't the Carson I remembered. This was something worse.

[Name: (None)]

[Title: The Servant]

[Stats - (Divinely Enhanced)]

●            Health (HP): 4,320

●            Magic (MP): 8,923

●            Stamina: 6,304

●            Attack: 4,400

●            Defense: 6,200

●            Speed: 5,300

He smiled, teeth gleaming like sharpened thorns.

Without a word, he moved like lightning.

I launched forward, scythe sweeping out, but Carson dodged with impossible speed. He smashed through a wall, debris flying, and began ripping up floorboards, exposing the centipede's carapace beneath.

In that moment, I realized with horror what he was doing.

"He's trying to take out the centipede!" Gaia shouted, the realization hitting us both simultaneously.

I lunged after him, careful not to strike too wildly—destroying the centipede myself would defeat the purpose. Emerald energy crackled along my scythe as I swung, using Phantom Reap to send spectral blades arcing toward him.

Carson twisted aside, the blades slicing through the wall behind him. He ripped up more floorboards, exposing more of the gleaming carapace beneath, then whirled to face me again.

My allies joined the fray—Archimedes hurling blue-white flames, Scarlet darting in with fangs bared, Kli'Taka attacking from a distance. Carson dodged them all, moving with unnatural grace, destroying more of the structure with each evasion.

I summoned my crown, golden light flaring around my head. "Sovereign's Command!" A wave of power exploded outward, catching Carson in its grasp. He staggered, momentarily silenced by my power, his movements slowing.

I pressed the advantage, swinging my scythe in a wide arc. "Emerald Tempest!"

A vortex of glittering green shards erupted around Carson, slowing him further as they sliced into his wrinkled skin. For a moment, I thought we had him.

Then his eyes flared brighter, and electricity crackled across his body. With a roar, he lunged—not at me, but at Ariana.

I threw myself between them, and Carson's fist slammed into my chest. Electricity shot through me, turning my muscles to stone. I crashed to the floor, convulsing as lightning arced across my body. Carson loomed over me, his fist pinning me down, more electricity pulsing from his hands into my chest.

"And now," he hissed, "you die…again."

***

Ariana's heart thundered in her chest, rage flaring hot and bright as she sprinted toward Kazro. The sight of Carson—that monster—on top of him, electricity crackling between them, sent her mind spiraling back to Earth—to trauma still haunting her despite everything.

"Get off him!" she roared, golden-emerald light radiating from her.

Her interface flashed in her vision, stats spiking as her anger fueled her power:

[RAGE BOOST: Attack +75% | Speed +60% | Defense -30%]

She barely registered the defense loss. All that mattered was saving Kazro, stopping Carson. Her spider legs erupted from her back, all eight appendages flashing. She reached for her new herald powers, sensing one that would bring her instantly to Kazro's side.

[Master’s Call]

Focusing her will, she teleported in a burst of gold-emerald light, materializing beside them, swinging her fist. It connected with Carson's jaw, sending him flying backward into the wall.

He recovered inhumanly fast, red-violet eyes locking on her with pure hatred. “You…” He spat out blood, leaves bristling around his head. “YOU!” He launched at her.

Screaming, Ariana lunged as well.

They collided in the middle of the hall, wrestling, Carson's electricity against her enhanced strength. The touch of his static sent fresh waves of pain crackling through her muscles, trauma surging through her mind—memories of pain, of helplessness, of death.

"I hate you!" Carson screamed, his bark face contorted with rage. “I HATE YOU!” Spittle flew from his mouth as he struggled against her grip. "Wyatt was nothing! He was weak, pathetic! And you chose him!"

His words stoked her fury higher, mind clouding. "You killed us!" she screamed back, slamming him against the floor. "You're a monster!"

Electricity crackled over her skin, searing her nerves, but she pushed through the pain. Her spider legs stabbed into Carson's torso, trying to pin him down.

“Ariana!” Distantly, she heard Kazro shouting, trying to warn her. "Ariana, get back!"

But the rage had her now, the stats still climbing as her fury built:

[RAGE BOOST: Attack +90% | Speed +75% | Defense -40%]

Carson's mouth stretched into a terrible smile. He twisted suddenly, using her own momentum against her. Before she could react, he'd swung her around, positioning her directly in the path of Kazro's incoming swinging scythe.

Kazro tried to pull back, horror flashing across his face, but it was too late. The edge of his blade grazed her shoulder, drawing blood. Ariana screamed, Carson shoving her hard.

She stumbled backward, spider legs scrambling for purchase on the broken floorboards. Her foot crashed through, and she fell, her back slamming against the centipede's exposed carapace.

Kazro yelled, purple-red light flashing, but she barely registered it, dipping in and out of consciousness.

Suddenly, Carson loomed above her, hands dancing with concentrated electricity. “Goodnight.” He grinned like a maniac. Then, he thrust out a crackling fist.

The blast hit her full in the face, blinding light searing into her eyes.

Chapter 34 - Old Times

“Gaia's vestments are in these three locations,” the Drifter said, waving a hand with a flourish.

White sparkling mist flowed out across the table, coalescing into a shimmering map. Vireth watched with wide eyes, heart hammering against his ribs. A tingling sensation spread through his veins like lightning, electric and frantic. This was it—the breakthrough he’d been waiting for.

Pip danced above the map, her wings buzzing. "Oooh, look at that!" she chirped. “So pretty! I bet Kazro is so happy we’re doing this for him!” She spun in delighted circles, trailing sparks in her wake.

Vireth watched her a moment before taking in the private study around them. Two other Drifters stood in the corners, hands held at the ready, eyes watchful. Runes carved into the walls pulsed with a faint amber glow—warding sigils, protection against eavesdroppers. Despite the Baroness’s oath, trust remained a fragile commodity, measured and doled out in careful portions.

"These are the three locations the sage sensed," the Drifter continued, gesturing to points of light now pulsing on the misty map. "Without Gaia's presence, he couldn't pinpoint the exact locations, but these general areas should suffice."

Vireth stepped closer to the table, leaning forward to study the glowing map. The Windwhisper Wilds sprawled at the center, its tall trees rendered as miniature spires rising from the mist. His eyes traced the borders outward—to Gloomswallow, to Blightmire, and to the edge of the Blight itself. The map only showed the border of that forsaken place, as if even magical cartography recoiled from depicting its horrors. Vireth shivered, peeling his gaze away.

His attention drifted to the Frostlands—those endless snowy peaks stretching toward the horizon, then to the vast ocean, dotted with the many islands of the Tidesong Isles.

But it was the three glowing points of light that truly commanded his focus.

One pulsed deep in the Plague Lord's territory.

Vireth's breath caught in his throat. Had the Plague Lord been hiding this all along? The shock of it sent a cold tremor down his spine. Yet, somehow, it made perfect sense—the Plague Lord always kept his cards close, played the long game with infinite patience.

The second light, closer than the others, gleamed from within the Eldritch King's domain. Vireth couldn't help but groan. Of course…

The third was the vaguest—not a point but a diffuse glow encompassing a stretch of the Tidesong Isles, imprecise and maddening in its lack of definition.

"Our best chance," Vireth said, tapping a finger near the second light, "is the Eldritch King's domain." His voice sounded steadier than he felt. "Even if we tried to march on the Plague Lord's territory, the Sundust Sage couldn't join us—not without killing Archimedes."

"Because of the oath," one of the Drifters murmured, sounding irritated.

Vireth nodded. Pip had told them about that—about the magical binding that would snuff out Archimedes' life if the Sage set foot in Gloomswallow.

"And we need the sage with us if we're to confront the Eldritch King," Vireth pressed on. "His power would—"

"His aura is too potent," another Drifter cut in, his mask carved in the shape of a crescent moon. "The Eldritch King would sense him immediately, from leagues away. We'd never make it past the border."

"Besides," the first Drifter added, "the sage remains committed to the Frost Baroness. He's still bound to assist her."

A small comfort fluttered in Vireth's chest. The oath between the Baroness and the sage—to help protect Kazro, to break the curse binding him without imposing one of her own—was one of the few certainties in this shifting landscape.

"So, the Eldritch King's territory," Vireth said after a long pause. "Just the six of us—me and you all." He nodded to the Drifters around him—three with masks depicting a five-pointed star and twin crescent moons, two others wrapped in cloaks that glowed like dying embers.

"We'll need to move quickly," said one of the ember-cloaked Drifters. "Before the King senses our approach."

"And avoid his spider patrols," added another.

"It's an excellent plan!" Pip chirped, zooming down to hover at eye level.” We'll get the vestments in no time!"

Vireth looked at the little wisp, studying her eager light. "Are you coming with us?"

She paused mid-flight, her glow dimming slightly. He could sense her hesitation—hadn't she been the one initially pushing to guide him? Now she seemed to be weighing her options, torn between duties. “I…don’t know.”

Vireth watched her thoughtfully. She could communicate with Archimedes, regardless of distance. And Kazro was headed toward the Blight—toward some kind of massive spawning point. Perhaps she would be better off staying with the sage, maintaining that crucial connection between him and Archimedes. He told her as much, and, in response, she replied, “You’re right.” She then swirled around him, trailing sparkles in a graceful arc, before executing a little bow.

“Thank you, Vireth” she said, her voice softer than usual, "for choosing to help Kazro. For believing in him when others didn't."

Something twinged in Vireth's gut—an emotion he wasn't used to acknowledging. The choice to help Kazro had come after so much hesitation, after years of loyalty to the Plague Lord. A loyalty that had frayed thread by thread until last week, when it had finally snapped entirely. When the Plague Lord had failed to come to stop Shahar.

He shook his head, dispelling the memory. "Let's move," he said to the Drifters, and they filed out of the room. He followed, stepping out onto a walkway along a city wall

"I've already sent word ahead," said one of the crescent-masked Drifters. "Transport awaits us at the eastern gate."

Transport. Vireth's thoughts immediately jumped to Zephyr, his dragon mount. But…Zephyr was gone—torn apart by one of the Eldritch King's massive spiders. The memory hit him like a blow to the stomach, squeezing his insides until he could barely breathe.

He'd been pushing that grief away, burying it beneath the avalanche of more urgent concerns. But now it surged back, raw and ragged. His throat tightened, eyes burning. Zephyr had been more than a mount—a companion, a friend, fierce and loyal to the last. And now they were headed straight back into the territory of the monster who'd taken that from him.

As they reached the staging area, Vireth spotted the massive tree golems that would serve as their new mounts—lumbering creatures with bodies of gnarled wood and limbs like ancient branches. Women in patchwork capes bustled around them, making final preparations, securing harnesses shaped from vines and roots.

A cold wind gusted suddenly, sharp enough to make him turn. And there, descending on clouds like pristine cotton, were his two "favorite" people.

Sveric and Nyvara. The Ice Twins. Heralds of the Baroness.

"What are you doing here?" Vireth shouted, not bothering to mask his irritation.

Sveric, his face as impassive as ever, touched down gracefully. "The sage has already revealed the location of our lady's vestment," he said. “It is not in the Wilds as previously suspected…”

Vireth sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Let me guess… It's in the Eldritch King's territory."

Sveric and Nyvara exchanged glances—his cold and calculating, hers alight with that playful smile that never failed to set Vireth's on edge.

"How did you know I was going there?" Vireth demanded.

Nyvara's smirk widened. She snapped her fingers, and something buzzed near Vireth's shoulder. He looked to see a tiny snowflake bounce off and hover toward her. She waved her hand, catching it in her palm

Realization struck. They'd been spying on him, listening to every word spoken in that supposedly warded room. Irritation flared, hot and sharp—though, strangely tempered by a grudging fondness he couldn't quite explain.

"Let's travel together!" Nyvara sang out, her voice lilting as she wrapped an arm around his shoulder. "Another journey, just like old times!"

Vireth sighed, feeling that odd mixture of annoyance and affection solidifying in his chest. "Old times?" he echoed. "That was just last week. And besides, we were enemies then."

"Then what are we now?" Nyvara asked, head tilted, eyes sparkling like frost in sunlight.

The question caught him off guard. He hesitated, suddenly uncertain. He was no longer the Plague Lord's agent—that allegiance had crumbled to dust. He stood with Kazro now.

That thought stirred something in him, the same strange feeling that had risen when Pip thanked him. He had served the Plague Lord for so long, had trusted in him implicitly…until that trust had eroded, bit by bit, until nothing remained but bitter disappointment.

“I’m…not sure,” Vireth finally answered, the words tasting strange on his tongue.

Sveric stepped forward. “Either way, traveling on these clouds will be much faster than…” He gestured dismissively toward the tree golems. "Come. We can assist one another."

Vireth hesitated again. Part of him still viewed the twins as enemies—dangerous, unpredictable. What was their true interest in this? He was reasonably certain they wouldn't try to harm Kazro, relatively confident the Frost Baroness couldn't trap him in a binding contract. But wariness ran deep in his blood.

And yet…he wanted to go with them. Wanted to believe in their good intentions. And those clouds would indeed be faster than the lumbering golems.

He glanced at his Drifters, who nodded their assent one by one. Sveric and Nyvara conjured more clouds, fluffy white platforms that hovered a few feet above the ground. The Drifters climbed aboard, cautious but compliant.

Vireth stepped onto his own, feeling it yield slightly beneath his weight before stabilizing. As they rose into the air, he couldn't help the mixed feelings churning inside him—wariness and relief, suspicion and gratitude—as he joined once more with the twins, heading toward a territory he despised about as much as Gloomswallow.

Chapter 35 - In the Deep

I blinked, my vision blurry, the pounding in my head quickly subsiding. I sucked in a deep breath and activated my meditation skill, and pain ebbed like a receding tide, leaving clarity in its wake. My senses sharpened, tuning to my surroundings with preternatural focus.

But something was wrong.

I couldn't see.

I reached out, finding splintered wood directly in front of my face. Pressure bore down from all sides, compressing my chest, making each breath a struggle. The realization hit me like a fist—I was buried beneath a mountain of debris. Rubble. Flotsam. Whatever you'd call the remnants of our fall.

I extended my aura sensing, feeling the contours of my wooden prison. Carefully, I shifted my weight, trying to create space. Wood splintered around me, the sound echoing with eerie prominence in the surrounding silence—a silence so complete it felt like a physical thing pressing against my eardrums.

Quiet. Gaia's mark blazed emerald on my skin, his voice a hushed whisper in my mind. Something's coming.

I froze, muscles locking in place. The silence down here was like death itself—heavy, oppressive, absolute. Then, I heard it. Heavy footsteps, passing nearby. Something sniffed the air.

I compressed my aura, drawing it tight against my skin—a skill I'd practiced until my bones ached.

The creature paused, so close I could hear its breathing—wet, ragged pulls of air that made my skin crawl. For one terrible moment, I thought it had sensed me. My heart pounded so hard I feared it would give me away, thundering against my ribs like a war drum.

Then, the footsteps resumed, stomping away into the distance until they faded entirely.

I lay beneath the crushing weight of debris, drawing long, controlled breaths through my nose. My mind raced despite the meditation, thoughts tumbling over each other like stones in a flash flood.

First was the worry—What the hell was that?

Then, the memory—the fight—the reason I was under all this crap.

Carson. That bastard had sabotaged us. And Ariana—gods, the rage I'd felt from her. Something had cracked open inside her during that fight, something she'd been holding back, stuffing down, suppressing beneath layers of control. That kind of containment wasn't healthy. I knew that better than most.

Pain welled in me at the thought of her suffering—pain and a fierce, almost desperate desire to help her heal. To offer her the same chance at release I'd found. I committed to it then and there, swearing it to myself in the crushing darkness.

Darkness, I needed to get out of.

And to do so, I needed a plan. First, find Ariana. Find all of them—Kli'Taka, Scarlet, Archimedes. My team. My friends.

Friends who had fallen with me into this chasm, this black unknown abyss. The reality of our situation hit me at that moment, sending a spike of panic through my chest. We were separated. Lost in the dark. Alone.

No. Not alone. Not entirely.

You gonna lie there all day? Gaia's voice cut through my spiraling thoughts. Or are we gonna do something useful?

"I'm thinking," I muttered.

"Thinking?" Gaia scoffed. "Kid, thinking is what got us into this mess. Now's the time for doing."

I grunted. "If by 'thinking' you mean Carson sabotaging us, then sure."

"Semantics. Either way, we're in a hole, and lying around won't get us out of it."

"Fine." I sighed. "Any bright ideas then, O wise one?"

“Indeed!” Gaia's mist swirled around me, " Step one: get up. Step two: find the others. Step three: don't die."

"That's your grand plan? 'Don't die'?"

"You got a better one?"

I didn't. Annoyingly, his oversimplified strategy was exactly what we needed right now.

I braced my palms against the weight above me and pushed, muscles straining. For a second, nothing happened. Then the debris shifted with a groan. I pushed harder, wood splintering beneath my fingers, and suddenly the pressure released. The pile collapsed outward, clattering across stone as I sat up, gulping fresh air.

I brushed splinters from my clothes, wincing as tiny needles of wood caught in my skin. Around me, broken planks and shattered beams formed mounds of destruction, stretching off into the gloom. The wreckage of the platform we'd been on, I realized. All of it tumbled down here with us.

An odd fog hung in the air, dense and slightly luminescent, limiting visibility to maybe thirty feet in any direction. Despite the night vision I shared with Ariana, I couldn't see far. I glanced up.

The sky—if you could call it that—was impossibly distant.

Something skittered nearby. I jerked my head toward the sound, just in time to spot strange insects that looked crafted from living stone. Their eyes were black pits, empty and hungry. They scattered as I stared, disappearing into cracks in the ground with unearthly speed.

I shivered, rising to my feet. I didn’t just have monsters to worry about. Carson was the biggest threat, as far as I was concerned. And that psychopath was down here, too. The realization was still sinking in—that my childhood tormentor had followed me across worlds, across realities. But what struck me hardest was the absence of that white-hot loathing I expected to feel. I didn't trust him, didn't like him…but that soul-deep hatred, that darkness I'd sensed pouring from Ariana, that I once harbored toward my own father…it wasn't there.

“That healing runs deep,” Gaia said, sounding proud. “Forgive one monster and your soul can’t help but flourish.”

I took a deep breath, reveling in it. But I couldn’t just stand there, enjoying my success. Right now, I needed to find my friends.

I closed my eyes, expanding my aura senses outward like ripples in a pond. Distinct energy signatures pulsed in different directions—Archimedes, a steady glow to the north. Ariana, her presence turbulent and shot through with that new darker essence, far to the east. And closer, more vulnerable, the gentle presences of Kli'Taka and Scarlet, huddled together to the west.

Decision made, I started walking west, each step purposeful. The fog swirled around my legs, damp and cloying. Something watched from the shadows—I could feel eyes on my back, cold and calculating.

But I didn't turn around. I couldn't afford distractions. Not now.

Find my friends. Regroup. Then find a way back to the surface.

One step at a time.

Chapter 36 - Fiery Indignation

Archimedes floated downward, his cloak twinkling. His eyes pierced the gloom with ease, cutting through the fog.

Below, a grisly tableau took shape. Part of the massive centipede lay sprawled across shattered rubble, its carapace cracked and bleeding iridescent fluid. Several archlords hovered around it, their forms shimmering with green light. Heralds pressed radiant hands against the wounded creature, channeling healing energies into its broken body.

Bodies littered the ground—some moving, groaning, others terribly still. People with green-glowing veins coursing beneath their skin moved among the injured, administering aid. Women in poison-green robes with flowing dark hair—the official healers—worked with methodical precision, their hands trailing luminous wisps of restorative magic.

Archimedes touched down amid the chaos, his feet settling on debris. Wood fragments crunched beneath his weight, remnants of the platform scattered in every direction. Groans of pain echoed from all sides, but one particular sound made his spiritual senses tingle. A buzzing anxiety crawled across his fiery skin, setting his nerves alight.

His gaze fell on a group of ruby-eyed Sa’Khari, their dark skin glistening with sweat as they frantically peeled splintered planks away from a trapped figure. The man they were uncovering was Zerek's brother, Rekhael.

Archimedes' core tightened. The man had demanded to come along, to speak with Kazro himself. Yet, strangely, he hadn't approached the Transcendent once during their journey. In fact, it was as if the Sa’Khari were deliberately avoiding Kazro. Archimedes had caught Rekhael glancing at the young man several times, muttering to himself, but never making contact.

The crawling anxiety intensified, spreading across Archimedes' fiery skin like oil on water. The sensation dragged him back to that terrible night—the slaughter of his clan, the screams, the bloody essence. He wanted nothing to do with Zerek's brother or his people.

He turned away, striding purposefully toward another section of the wreckage. But as he moved, Kazro's words floated unbidden through his consciousness.

You helped me heal. Now, I want to help you.

A shiver passed through Archimedes' soul. The boy had let go of so much—forgiven an abusive father, released his guilt over failing to protect Ariana. And now, this…

The one who’d sabotaged them housed the spirit of Kazro's killer from Earth, yet Archimedes had sensed no hatred from the young Transcendent. Irritation, yes. Defensiveness, certainly. But his emotions remained stable, whole, unlike Archimedes' own turbulent feelings toward Rekhael.

Archimedes slowed, then stopped entirely. Behind him, Rekhael groaned in pain. Despite himself, Archimedes glanced back. A jagged wooden spike protruded from the man's abdomen, dark blood pooling beneath him. The Sa’Khari knelt around their leader, some running off to seek help from other healers, but returning disappointed as the overworked medics brushed them aside, prioritizing others.

Archimedes' core constricted painfully. Despite his reluctance—despite every instinct screaming at him to walk away—he found himself striding back toward the injured man.

The Sa’Khari looked up in surprise as he approached. Without a word, Archimedes knelt beside Rakhael, grasped the wooden stake with steady hands, and pulled it free in one swift motion. The man's scream cut through the ambient chaos, then subsided to ragged breathing. Archimedes reached into his robes, withdrawing a pouch of glittering powder. He sprinkled it over the wound, waving his hand above it. The particles ignited, sinking into the torn flesh, sealing the injury from within.

Sa’Khari whispered to one another as Rekhael took ragged breaths, watching his wound seal back up. For a moment, all was silent.

Then, "Get me up!" Rekhael barked, his voice harsh. "Now!"

The Sakari scrambled to obey, lifting their leader to his feet. He swayed, glaring down at Archimedes.

"Next time, warn me before you yank out a stake," he snarled, clutching his newly healed wound.

Something snapped inside Archimedes—a tether that had held his emotions in check for too long. “Did it cross your mind to thank me?” he shouted, his voice crackling with barely contained fire. The words surprised even him; normally he would have swallowed those words, buried them beneath layers of carefully constructed calm.

Rekhael stared at him, ruby eyes widening slightly. Then, his face hardened. "My people are still missing," he barked, gesturing to his subordinates. "Spread out! Search the wreckage! Find the others!"

He jabbed a finger at Archimedes. "You—make yourself useful. Help search.

Anger flared like a supernova behind Archimedes' eyes. But instead of suppressing it, he let it burn, felt it flow through him—cleansing, clarifying. For the first time in longer than he could remember, he allowed himself to feel its fullness rather than push it away.

And somehow, that felt like progress.

He turned without acknowledging the command, striding toward a large pile of debris. Not because the Sa’Khari leader had ordered it, but because he genuinely wanted to find survivors—particularly Kazro and his companions.

Archimedes pushed out with his spiritual senses, trying to locate familiar energy signatures. But…something was wrong. It felt like pushing through dead matter, the air itself dense and unresponsive to his probing. Whatever force had created this place—or perhaps the place itself—dampened his abilities and bond with Kazro, forcing him to rely on mundane methods of search.

The flames of his face flickered into a tense expression as he began shifting rubble, one piece at a time. Whatever this place was, whatever forces conspired against them, he would find his friends.

He had to.

And he would.

Chapter 37 - Shifting Nightmare

Ariana squeezed her eyes shut, letting out a quiet, shuddered breath as she balled her hands into fists. Sticky webs clung to her flesh, a sensation both foreign and strangely familiar.

She'd wrapped herself in a cocoon while falling—instinct taking over, spider legs weaving protection so thick she barely felt the impact when she crashed to the ground. The webs hummed against her skin, vibrating with energy, a tangible manifestation of her herald powers. Under different circumstances, she might have marveled at the evolution of her abilities.

But she could barely focus on anything beyond the war raging inside her.

Images of Carson flashed across her mind like lightning strikes—his smug face, his entitled swagger, the casual cruelty in his eyes. Irritation wasn't a strong enough word for what she felt. This was molten hatred bubbling up from depths she hadn't known existed within her.

He had killed her.

He had killed Kazro.

He had taken everything from her.

A deep ache throbbed in her chest, so intense it felt physical. She hadn't realized how much she'd stuffed away, buried beneath layers of control and responsibility. How much anger had been silently boiling, waiting for the pressure to build until the container cracked.

"I hate you, Carson," she whispered, the words hissing between her teeth like steam escaping a valve. "I hate you so much."

Her fists trembled. Her body quaked with the force of emotions too long denied expression. He was the reason she was in this mess. He was why she'd been torn from her world, why she'd suffered, why she now wore this alien form with its chitinous additions and midnight eyes.

Heck, but that fight with Carson—her wild, frenzied attacking, the moment she'd lost control completely. It scared her. She'd never lost herself like that before, never felt her consciousness submerged beneath such primal rage.

Slowly, deliberately, she drew a deep breath. Held it. Released it in a controlled stream. Again. And again. The boiling receded to a simmer, the trembling eased. Not gone—just…manageable. For now.

Reality reasserted itself as her heartbeat steadied. They'd fallen down into the chasm. The thought sent a fresh wave of tremors through her limbs. How far had they fallen? How would they get back?

With her pulse no longer thundering in her ears, other sounds filtered in, her enhanced hearing picking up a symphony of disturbing noises—little clicks skittering through the darkness, whispers that might have been voices or just wind through stone, and worst of all, a deep, resonant moan from somewhere far in the distance.

She shuddered, hugging herself tight. But…she couldn't just sit here forever, cocooned and vulnerable. With slow, careful movements, she began peeling the webs away from her face.

Strange, stone-like creatures scuttled nearby—insectoid bodies with lizard-like movements. Their eyes were perfect black circles, empty and soulless, reflecting no light. She shuddered, glancing ahead. The fog that permeated this place made it difficult to see more than twenty feet in any direction, despite her enhanced vision.

As she continued splitting the silken strands from her face, she realized with a jolt that she was glowing—a faint luminescence emanating from her transformed skin. Crap, I probably look like a freakin’ beacon. Several of the stone-lizard creatures had stopped moving, their black-hole eyes fixed on her with unsettling intensity.

Something boomed through the stone floor, vibrations traveling up through her body. Distant, she thought initially. Nothing to worry about immediately. She tilted her head back, looking upward, trying to gauge how far they'd fallen. The opening was impossibly far away.

The booming grew closer, more insistent. Ariana froze, her attention snapping to one side of the foggy chamber. Crap, that’s closer than I thought! A silhouette materialized through the mist—something moving on all fours, a beast of some kind, heading straight for her.

Her spider legs moved with instinctive urgency, helping her tear away the remaining webs as she rose to her feet. The stone insects scattered in all directions, fleeing whatever approached.

The creature emerged from the fog fully now, its massive jaws opening to reveal rows of black fangs surrounding a throat that looked like a vast, bottomless pit. Ariana staggered backward, chest tight with sudden fear. Before she could attack or flee, the beast lunged toward her.

She screamed—a sound cut short by a brilliant flash of emerald-gold that sliced through the gloom. The energy cut cleanly through the creature's neck, its severed head slamming to the ground as its body collapsed in a twitching heap. Black mist—thick as ink but insubstantial as vapor—poured from the wound, billowing toward Ariana. She coughed, waving her hand to disperse it as she backed away.

Movement caught her eye—a familiar glow. She spun to see Kazro staring directly at her, his gold and red eyes blazing through the darkness. He sat astride Scarlet, the size of a small horse, her multiple tails fanning behind her. Kli'Taka clung to his back, arms wrapped securely around his torso.

"Get on," he said, extending his hand.

Ariana stared into those eyes, feeling something unexpected flow from him—not judgment or fear of what she'd become, but a sense of…peace? Acceptance? Despite the red glow that now tinged on of his irises, despite everything that had happened, he looked at her with the same steady gaze as always. But there was something deeper to it. Something that made her heart flutter.

“Come on!” he said.

She shook herself from her stunned stupor and sprinted toward him, toward safety, toward the one constant in this shifting nightmare of a world.

Chapter 38 - Void Colossus

I clutched Scarlet's pelt, urging her to run faster. We sprinted toward a vast, radiant—yet somehow toxic—aura, knowing the archlords and heralds would gather there. After killing that void-beast, I could feel something else—an irritation vibrating through the fog, a menacing buzz that made my skin crawl.

As much as I preferred traveling with just my closest companions, I wasn't foolish enough to move on without the heralds and the archlords. They would dramatically increase our odds of survival down here. That's why I rode Scarlet at breakneck speed through the shifting fog, racing back toward the crash site, my heart hammering against my ribs.

The fog parted as we ran, revealing glimpses of this strange underworld. Little stone critters scuttled away from our path—some as small as mice, others larger than dogs. Some resembled crabs, clacking massive pincers as they retreated into dark recesses.

A rising sense of urgency tightened my chest, bordering on panic. Not just for my friends' safety, though that was certainly part of it. Whatever was coming radiated an oppressive force that set my teeth on edge. We needed to move—fast.

Kli'Taka sat behind me, arms wrapped tightly around my torso, her body trembling against mine. Ariana pressed against us both, her arms encircling my waist. I placed a hand over hers where they clasped around my belly, feeling the tension in her grip. Beyond that physical contact, I sensed something deeper—a simmering pain within her, raw and familiar.

Even as we raced through the gloom, I couldn't hold back from addressing it. “I sensed your hurt,” I said over my shoulder, keeping my voice gentle. "It's how I found you down here."

She didn't respond, but her arms stiffened slightly around me.

"We lost that fight with Carson because you lost control," I continued carefully. "I'm not blaming you. I understand it better than most."

“Don’t,” she whispered, her voice tight, avoiding eye contact. “Please.”

I opened my mouth, hesitating. Staring. I went through something similar. I wanted to say. The rage, the darkness…it consumed me too. But I found healing, Ariana. You can too. I squeezed her hand. When we get a moment, I want to walk you through what helped me.

Her breath hitched, but before she could respond, the ground ahead of us erupted. Something massive burst from the stone floor—a long, insectoid creature with a stony carapace and clicking mandibles, easily two stories tall, ripping through the fog toward us.

I yelled, steering Scarlet sharply to the right.

I hadn't wanted to summon my scythe, not yet—but my hand moved instinctively, calling the weapon to me. Before I could swing, a blue fireball exploded against the creature's head. The blast tore its carapace apart, sending stony chunks flying in all directions.

"Archimedes!" I shouted, relief flooding through me.

The Drifter landed nearby, his cloak flowing like liquid night, and ran beside us. He kept pace effortlessly, blue flames dancing across his clothes.

As we raced on, I spotted others—Plague Lord soldiers with their telltale green veins glowing beneath translucent skin, women in healer's robes tending to the wounded, ruby-eyed Sa’Khari picking through scattered debris. Ahead, I could sense the massive centipede.

Suddenly, my senses expanded, sharpening with clarity. That negative presence I'd been feeling—it wasn't just close. It was overwhelming, a tsunami of malevolence pressing in from all sides.

Ariana hissed behind me. I glanced back to see her clapping hands over her ears, sharp teeth gritted in pain. Whatever I was sensing, she felt it more intensely.

"Shit," I cursed, urging Scarlet faster.

We reached the crash site where the centipede lay on its side, massive legs twitching weakly. Blood spread from wounds in its carapace, hissing as it hit the stone floor. Archlords and healers swarmed around it, pressing glowing hands against its injuries, shouting instructions to one another.

They were taking too much time. Despite wanting to sprint ahead without the creature, I knew we needed it. The centipede was our best chance of escaping whatever approached.

I kicked Scarlet onward. The fox-wolf leapt onto the creature's closest segment—the tip of its tail—and began racing up along its cracked carapace.

There was no time to waste. Danger was upon us.

"Gaia," I said, "I need your authority."

I could feel the god’s smile. “I was waiting for you to say that.”

My body began to glow, emerald light intensifying until it pulsed from my skin in waves. As Scarlet reached the higher segments of the centipede, I drew breath and called out—my voice suddenly deeper, resonant with power that wasn't entirely my own. "HERALDS! STAND READY! PREPARE TO FIGHT!"

Heads snapped in my direction. Several archlords looked utterly shocked, but I could see the fear in their eyes too. They sensed what was coming.

"WE CANNOT STAND OUR GROUND!" I continued, Gaia's power flowing through my words. "WE MUST KEEP MOVING TOWARD THE OTHER END OF THE CHASM! REACH THE WALL AND CLIMB!"

An idea blossomed in my mind. I felt Gaia's approval, his power surging through our connection. The crown materialized above my head, brilliant and terrible in its beauty.

"VERDANT DOMINION!" I shouted, thrusting my scythe skyward.

Brilliant light erupted from my crown, a beam of pure verdant energy that shot down into the centipede and upward into the fog. The creature flinched and shrieked, but I could feel the healing power flowing through it, mending broken chitin, knitting torn muscles, restoring vitality. The golden-green radiance spread outward, touching everyone around us. People who’d been lying injured on the ground rose to their feet, wounds closing.

[Centipede's Health: 79% and climbing]

All eyes turned toward me—the Plague Lord's soldiers with their glowing veins, the ice soldiers from the Frost Baroness, even the heralds and archlords. Their expressions shifted from shock to awe as the light pushed back the fog, revealing the true extent of our surroundings.

In the retreating darkness, figures became visible. They held up their hands and hissed, backing away from the radiance. Humanoid figures with skin stretched so tight over their bones they looked like walking corpses. Their eyes were empty pits, their hair like black mist. Behind them prowled beasts with four legs and heads like massive Venus flytraps, black fangs glistening.

At first, I saw dozens. Then, as I looked around, my stomach sank. Hundreds approached from all sides, a converging army of nightmare creatures.

The centipede beneath me shrieked, shifting its massive body. As it moved from lying on its side to standing upright, I urged Scarlet to turn and run along the creature's flank. We scrambled onto its back just as it shifted to its feet.

"EVERYONE GET ON!" I commanded, my voice still amplified by Gaia's power.

People raced toward the centipede, climbing onto its back, activating techniques to make their hands and feet sticky enough to cling to its shell. Archlords activated their insect-like wings, buzzing up to hover beside us. Scarlet froze her paws to the carapace, anchoring us in place.

I closed my eyes, extending my senses to find a path forward.

"No need," Gaia materialized beside me, pointing into the distance. "The way to the other side is that way."

"GO!" I shouted to the centipede. "THAT DIRECTION!" I thrust out my scythe, activating Lance Strike. A golden beam launched out, pointing out the direction.

The massive creature shifted, legs finding purchase on the stone floor. It began moving, slowly at first, then faster and faster, crushing the approaching void creatures. I urged Scarlet forward, and she broke free from her ice anchors, racing toward the centipede's head. When we reached it, she froze her paws again, and the massive insect began sprinting forward in earnest.

I swung out my scythe, sending Crescent Strikes slicing through the void humans and beasts that tried to block our path. The glowing energy cut through them like they were made of smoke, clearing a path for our massive mount to run.

A few void humans managed to cling to the centipede's sides, crawling upward with unnatural speed. Archlords swooped in, spewing acid that burned them away. Heralds and soldiers hurled spears and unleashed techniques to keep more from climbing aboard.

The centipede gained momentum, racing through the cavernous space. Wind whipped through my hair as we hurtled forward. Ahead, larger versions of the flytrap-headed beasts emerged from the gloom. I wondered if these were the presence I'd sensed, but even as the thought formed, I knew they weren't. Something far worse lurked in the darkness.

"ARCHLORDS! THREE O'CLOCK!" I shouted, pointing toward a swarm of mist-like bats descending from above. "HERALDS! FORM A PERIMETER ALONG THE CENTIPEDE'S BACK!"

They moved instantly to obey, and I was momentarily shocked that they listened. But there was no time to dwell on it—this was life or death.

As I continued barking orders, Archimedes' words echoed in my mind: It's good you're focused on protecting the Wilds, on Gaian City…but this entire region needs someone like you, Kazro. A guardian. A leader. Not just of one kingdom, but of every kingdom. A person whose only motive is to care and protect and unite.

Something expanded in my chest—a possibility, a future I'd never fully considered. Me, a guardian of not just one place, but of all these lands? The thought terrified me. Being responsible for one kingdom was weighty enough. An entire region full of kingdoms?

Yet, here I was, giving orders to heralds and archlords, coordinating our defense, and they were following without hesitation.

Behind me, Ariana and Kli'Taka clung to my back, yet still managed to launch attacks toward our pursuers. Ariana's new herald powers manifested as golden web-like strands that ensnared void creatures, while Kli'Taka's arms worked in perfect harmony, hurling dart-like projectiles with unerring accuracy.

My heart ached for Ariana. Through our contact, I could feel her pain—the trauma of dying, of leaving Earth behind, of her hatred for Carson. My commitment to help her heal solidified into an unbreakable vow. I would not let her suffer alone. It would take time, I knew, but I was willing to help, to be patient with her.

Nearby, Archimedes launched fireballs that exploded into a million smaller ones, homing in on the mist-bats with deadly precision. I watched him throw out another attack, then another, and even now, I could sense his wounds—not physical, but soul-deep. He, too, needed healing, needed to release the pain he'd carried for so long.

The same went for Kli'Taka and Scarlet. Both had been abandoned, hurt, betrayed. Yet, here they were, fighting alongside me, trusting me despite everything.

How had I been so blind? How did I not see how much they were hurting? How badly they needed me?

I swung my scythe again and again, destroying creatures trying to crawl onto our massive mount as it thundered forward. The wind whipped furiously around us now, the centipede's speed incredible.

[XP: +350]

[XP: +470]

[XP: +580]

Excitement surged through me as the numbers climbed. Every point brought me closer to my goal—pushing my scythe and crown to level five, then to transcendence. The path to power that would let me break my oath and protect them all.

Suddenly, a force pressed hard against my soul—a pressure so intense it nearly knocked me backward. I glanced over my shoulder, searching for its source, and when I did, my blood turned to ice. Far in the distance, piercing through the gloom like lighthouse beams, a pair of massive black eyes stared directly at me.

My crown instantly analyzed the threat, information flooding my consciousness:

[Void Colossus – Level ???]

[HP: Unknown]

[Attack: Immeasurable]

[Defense: Immeasurable]

[Special Ability: Void Consumption – Drains life and essence from all living beings within range]

My stomach plummeted as the towering figure took one earth-shaking step toward us. We were fast, but it was faster.

And it was hungry.

Chapter 39 - Don't You Die

Vireth flew through the air, passing tall black trees with wicked branches. Wind whipped his hair, carrying the scent of decay—a fragrance he should have been accustomed to after years serving the Plague Lord, yet this was different. Sweeter somehow, like a pile of exotic fruit left to rot.

The Drifters surrounded him on their own clouds, their glowing eyes scouring the forest below. One of them seemed distracted, focused entirely on a misty map floating before him. Vireth wanted to ask how close they were to their destination, but something about the surrounding silence kept the words trapped in his throat.

He glanced over at Nyvara and Sveric floating nearby on their own clouds. Their crystalline armor caught what little light penetrated the canopy, sending prismatic colors dancing across black bark. They observed the eerily quiet forest with the same tense vigilance as the Drifters.

Massive webs dangled from branches—some torn and fluttering in the breeze, others perfect and symmetrical but completely abandoned. The spiritual scan they'd conducted earlier had confirmed what his senses were now telling him: this part of the Eldritch King's domain was utterly deserted.

They'd originally taken a higher route, soaring well above the treetops, until someone—Sveric—had worried about aerial scouts spotting them. That concern had brought them lower, into this unsettling emptiness.

Vireth knew enough about the Eldritch King's territory to be disturbed by this. Thinking back to the assault on Gaian City, he recalled thousands—perhaps hundreds of thousands—of the Eldritch King's children swarming the walls, his heralds leading the charge. The King had obviously believed Shahar would win, had sent everything he could to help the titan, to please Vlindakh.

But they had lost. And the King had clearly taken a massive hit.

Vireth's heart skipped a beat, excitement washing through him despite his grim surroundings. This was better than he'd dared hope. With the King's forces depleted, their chances of finding Gaia's vestment improved dramatically.

"I've been wanting to ask you," a female voice said directly beside him.

Vireth jumped, spinning to find Nyvara floating right next to his cloud. His heart pounded against his ribs—not because he hadn't sensed her presence (her cold aura had been prickling his skin for minutes), but because she'd moved so silently, so deliberately close.

"Is it true?" she asked, blue eyes impossibly bright against her pale skin.

Vireth frowned, hand resting on his chest as he tried to recover from the sudden intrusion. "Is what true?" A flash of irritation colored his words, though beneath it lurked something else—a grudging appreciation, perhaps even gratitude for the twins in this desolate place.

He glanced over at Sveric, who held a large snowflake in his palm, using it like a compass. It pointed steadily in a direction slightly different from their current heading. Vireth wondered if they would need to split up—if the Baroness's vestment lay elsewhere from Gaia's.

Nyvara bit her lower lip, seeming to gather her thoughts. Then, as if unable to contain herself any longer: "You hid Kazro!" The words burst from her. "You even killed Obaba, and instead of taking Kazro to your master, you scooped him up and hid him away!"

"Shh!" Vireth hissed, eyes darting to the Drifters, but she pressed on regardless.

"Every herald and archlord wouldn't shut up about you," she continued, her voice dropping only slightly. “I was shocked when I heard. I just had to confirm it, because, well…” She leaned closer, her breath misting between them. "This whole time, I thought you hated that cutie."

Vireth stared at her, stunned by the sudden outpouring of words, thinking back to what he’d done. He didn’t regret his actions—far from it—but hearing them stated so baldly made him acutely aware of his changed status.

He didn't truly belong to any faction anymore. The Plague Lord's inner circle would hunt him down. The Frost Baroness viewed him as a curiosity, at best. And Kazro wasn't a true king like the other Wielders—a guardian, yes, but not a supreme ruler of territory.

And yet, Vireth couldn’t deny the burning in his chest—the fiercely loyal passion expanding through his soul.

"I followed the Plague Lord,” Vireth found himself saying, the words emerging unbidden, “because I saw him as a man who cared, who protected… But these past several years, especially this last week, proved he only really cares for his own skin. He was willing to sacrifice people he swore to protect, just to get one of his vestments. Even at the risk of Vlindakh rising."

Before he could continue, the aura around them shifted, becoming even more dead, more empty. Vireth slowed his cloud, the others matching his pace. He looked ahead and felt his eyes widen at what lay before them.

They were still in the Eldritch King's territory, but the landscape had changed drastically. Vast stretches of forest had collapsed—trees fallen over, gray and lifeless, or reduced entirely to ash. Figures limped through the devastation, humanoid shapes that bent to bite into the remaining tree trunks, sucking something from them. Everywhere they touched, gray lifelessness spread like a stain.

One of them—a woman with hair like swirling black mist, clothes that curled and unfurled like living shadow—looked up at them. Her eyes were perfect black holes, empty and hungering.

A deep, painful shiver ripped through Vireth's body.

Suddenly, he was fifteen again, watching these same creatures attack his home. Watching one sink its teeth into his brother's arm—his only living relative. He'd slashed out with a sword, severing the creature's head, then yanked his brother away, half-carrying him as they fled.

But it had been too late. Gray-black marks had already begun spreading across his brother's skin.

"Stay with me!" Vireth shouted, kneeling beside him in a forest clearing miles from home. "Don't you die!" He held his brother close, watching helplessly as the light faded from his eyes, feeling the body grow cold in his arms.

Don’t you die… A shiver ran up his spine, his eyes going misty. He’d said the same thing to Kazro, several times during their stay in that cave, hidden from the world.

And now, he was in danger once again.

Vireth tore his gaze away from the void-eyed woman, swallowing against the bitter taste of memory. He looked out across the blighted landscape, horror spreading through him like ice in his veins. "Has the Blight always been this far into the Eldritch King's lands?"

Sveric moved his cloud closer. "The King's attention was turned away from his domain for a week," he said, voice flat and cold as winter. "His forces have been scattered, either slain in the battle for Gaian City or retreating to lick their wounds."

"It's given the Voidlings time to spread," Nyvara added. "Like an infection finding an open wound."

The Drifter with the map suddenly gestured, drawing their attention. "We're close," he announced, finger stabbing at a glowing point on the misty display. "Just beyond that ridge."

Sveric glanced down at his snowflake compass, then back at the map. "They're in the same location," he said, surprise evident in his normally expressionless face.

Vireth frowned, a suspicion forming. "The King found them both…and was hiding them together."

They exchanged glances, then wordlessly urged their clouds forward, accelerating toward the indicated ridge. But as they flew, Vireth couldn't shake his unease. The Blight's corruption was spreading deeper into these lands—faster than should have been possible.

And wherever the Blight went, worse things followed.

Chapter 40 - Bittersweet Ache

I lunged off Scarlet's back, slamming onto the centipede's green carapace and sprinting forward. I raced past heralds and soldiers, all launching attacks at the hundreds of bat-like creatures swooping overhead, their wings leaving trails of black mist.

My scythe materialized in my hand, the crown glowing above my head. My Transcendent Shield and Slingshot floated on either side, weapons held aloft by invisible bonds. My cloak flapped violently in the rushing wind as I fixed my eyes on a towering giant.

The monstrosity stood at least six stories tall, each thunderous footstep closing the gap between us. Its eyes were perfect voids—not just black, but actual holes in reality that seemed to pull at my soul. Cracks spread from those eyes across its face like parched earth splitting beneath a merciless sun. A long, dark beard hung from its chin like living shadow, writhing with unnatural movement. Its body was encased in gray stone armor, cracked in countless places with black mist seeping through the fissures.

"Lance Strike!" I shouted, thrusting my scythe forward.

An emerald beam erupted from the blade, ripping through the giant's shoulder. Stone fragments and black mist exploded outward, but the creature barely slowed. It raised one massive arm, forming a fist, and punched forward, launching a distortion in space that warped the air.

I activated Group Shield, the dome absorbing most of the impact, cracking. My burnout gauge ticked upward.

“Use some of your buddies’ moves,” Gaia said, and I immediately pulled up Ariana’s.

I reached for her power through our bond, feeling the herald energy course through me. Black-gold slime coated my hands as I thrust both palms forward, web-like geysers bursting toward the giant. They slammed into its legs, wrapping around them, briefly slowing its pursuit. But the creature roared—a sound like mountains crumbling—and tore through the webs with frightening ease.

The centipede beneath us raced onward, its countless legs churning with desperate speed. I could feel its fear, an animal terror that matched the primal dread building in my own chest.

The giant closed in again, shadows gathering around its fist. It punched downward, sending a shockwave along the ground that rippled the very stone beneath the centipede's feet. The impact sent tremors through our mount, nearly throwing me off balance.

"Aerial Storm!" I cried, pointing. The air around the giant's head filled with swirling emerald shards, slashing at its eyes and face. It reeled back momentarily, arm raised to shield itself, but recovered faster than I'd hoped. My burnout gauge climbed higher—665% now and still rising.

I reached for Kli'Taka's bond next. My skin hardened like chitin, taking on a pearlescent sheen as I channeled her defensive ability. Just in time, as the giant hurled a boulder the size of a house directly at me.

I launched out, crossed my arms, letting the impact crash into my reinforced body. The boulder shattered, fragments raining down around me, the force knocking me back. I landed on the centipede’s back in a crouch, sweat beading on my forehead as I pushed myself back up.

"We can't outrun it much longer!" I heard Archimedes shout from somewhere to my left. "The chasm wall is still too far!"

He was right. We needed to slow it down—permanently.

A desperate plan formed in my mind. Risky, but possible.

"Scarlet!" I called, and the fox-wolf was instantly at my side, crimson eyes gleaming. I leapt onto her back, feeling her muscles bunch beneath me. "Get me close."

She howled, the sound piercing through the chaos of battle, and launched herself toward the edge of the centipede's back. I braced myself, drawing deeply on my reserves.

"Quintuple Light of Heaven," I whispered.

My scythe transformed, blazing with an intensity that made the surrounding fog recoil. Emerald energy wrapped around the blade, infused with the essence of my bonded allies—Scarlet's ice, Kli'Taka's sand, Archimedes' flame, Ariana's herald radiance, and Gaia's verdant power.

The centipede swerved suddenly, avoiding another of the giant's boulders. I held on with my thighs as Scarlet compensated, racing along the creature's spine toward its tail.

"Now!" I shouted.

Scarlet leapt, carrying me into empty air. For one terrible, exhilarating moment, we were suspended between the centipede and the pursuing giant. I raised my scythe, channeling everything I had into the blade.

As we arced toward the giant, I suddenly noticed something in its expression that made my attack falter for a split second.

Fear.

Not just animal panic, but complex, human terror in those void-like eyes. The Voidlings clinging to its shoulders showed the same expression—faces contorted with emotions I hadn't expected them capable of feeling.

These weren't mindless monsters. There was something human in them.

The realization hit me like a punch to the face, but my momentum couldn't be stopped. My scythe completed its arc, the Quintuple Light blazing as it connected with the giant's neck. The blade sheared through stone and shadow alike, cleaving its head from its shoulders in one devastating stroke.

Scarlet kicked off its chest, propelling us back toward the speeding centipede. She slammed onto its carapace, staggering with the impact, my mind reeling from what I'd just seen. Behind us, the giant toppled, its massive form crashing to the ground along with the shrieking Voidlings clinging to its armor.

Those screams…

They sounded just like people.

"Wall upcoming!" an archlord shouted, voice cutting through my thoughts.

The insect-winged men and women surrounding the centipede activated a technique in unison. Green light flashed across our mount's entire body, extending to everyone riding on its back.

[Status Effect: Adhesion – Grants unbreakable grip on any surface]

I felt my feet lock onto the carapace, the effect reinforcing Ariana's spider techniques that had already made movement relatively secure.

Up ahead, a ragged cliff wall loomed—so vast and tall that mist obscured its upper reaches. Our centipede didn't slow. It slammed into the vertical surface and immediately began climbing, its countless legs finding purchase on the sheer rock face.

I crouched instinctively but found I could stand normally despite the vertical orientation. My toned muscles tensed, my core engaging to keep me upright as my feet remained locked to the carapace. Weeks of training had given me strength that wasn't showy, but was deeply functional—perfect for situations like this.

As we ascended, eerie sounds echoed all around—moans, growls, clicking noises that made my skin crawl. I turned to look back the way we'd come and felt my stomach drop.

Three more giants pushed through the fog, stomping toward the cliff, their massive hands already reaching for handholds. Not only that, but swarms of bat-like creatures descended, carrying Voidlings in their claws. Several dropped onto our centipede, some slipping but others finding purchase.

"Archlords! Defensive formation at the rear!" I shouted. "Heralds! Flank the sides! Don't let them surround us!"

Most obeyed instantly, moving to their assigned positions. A few archlords sneered, ignoring my command, holding their position near the centipede's head. Seconds later, a swarm of smaller creatures descended on them.

I ran toward the approaching Voidlings, my scythe ready. But as I closed the distance, I found myself hesitating. Their eyes—those black pits—held something familiar now that I was looking for it. A consciousness.

Without thinking, I raised my right arm, the one marred by Vlindakh's crse marks. The nearest Voidling's eyes widened in recognition. It reared back, body language shifting from aggression to…was that fear? Reverence?

I stood frozen, transfixed by this reaction, unable to bring myself to attack. A herald swooped past, unleashing a blast of energy that tore the Voidling apart. Black mist billowed where it had stood, and something inside me ached.

The wind whipped fiercer as our centipede climbed faster, higher. I glanced back again to see the three giants scaling the cliff with terrifying speed, their massive hands finding holds where no normal creature could.

I needed to protect everyone. Yet now, knowing all these creatures weren't simply monsters but beings with consciousness, possibly former humans…how could I slaughter them without hesitation?

I staggered along the centipede's back, exhaustion weighing on me. My burnout gauge was slowly dropping, the crown replenishing my energy as I breathed deeply, centering myself. My meditation skill helped me maintain focus, my MP gradually restoring.

And I could only hope it would be enough for whatever came.

***

Carson clawed his way up the cliff face, far ahead of that stupid centipede. A crackling, stinging pain racked through him—not the clean pain of exertion, but something deeper, more fundamental. Soul-deep agony that threatened to tear him apart from within.

He wasn't climbing so much as leaping from one ragged handhold to the next, propelling himself upward with inhuman strength. Violet-red electricity danced along his arms, arcing between his fingers and the stone.

His consciousness was only now returning, but with his head pounding something fierce, he wished he were dead.

Images flashed through his mind—fractured memories of the fight with Kazro and Ariana. But they twisted, warped, blending with older, darker memories. Kazro's face melded with his brother's, the past and present bleeding together into a nightmarish collage.

In one fragment, Carson lay on the floor, somehow immobilized, unable to move as his brother—or was it Kazro?—loomed over him.

"This is going to hurt," his brother sneered, then kicked him hard between the legs.

Carson screamed. Boys laughed from the corners of the room.

"Did that hurt?" his brother asked, smiling.

Carson could only whimper in response.

"Inject him again," his brother ordered. "Double the dose this time."

The men approached with needles, stabbing them into his arms, his neck, his thighs. Fire spread through his veins, and he screamed until his throat tore.

So alone. So confused. So much pain.

Carson blinked, trembling, the present reasserting itself. He was still climbing, hands bloody from gripping the sharp rock. The wall began to shake, the clattering of countless feet reverberating through the stone. Shouts echoed up from below, punctuated by explosions.

And through it all, one voice stood out—familiar, hateful, triggering.

Kazro, shouting orders.

A spike of anxiety lanced through Carson's chest, followed by hunger—a driving, primal need to tear that voice apart. To fight back when before he couldn't fight for himself.

He forced himself to stop, clinging to the cliffside as the wall shook more violently. Glancing down, he could see the massive centipede in the distance, ascending through the mist.

What are you doing? His goddess's voice cut through his mind like a blade. Keep climbing! We're almost there!

Carson ignored her, though he could feel her presence swelling, trying to seize control again. He gritted his teeth, trembling with the effort of resisting her.

She shrieked in his mind, a sound like metal tearing, but Carson barely heard it. All he could focus on was that voice from below—the voice that belonged to his tormentor. His jailer.

His brother.

Something in Carson snapped.

With a shriek of his own, he pushed from the cliff, hurling himself downward, toward the emerald-gold light radiating from the fog below—toward Kazro.

***

I slashed through another bat, its body dissolving into mist before it hit the centipede's back. Around me, the battle raged—heralds and archlords fighting off the endless swarm of Voidlings and flying monstrosities. Kli'Taka's arms moved in perfect sync, hurling crystalline darts with deadly precision. Scarlet froze attackers with her breath, shattered them with her tails. Archimedes' blue flames consumed whatever came near him. And Ariana—her new form both terrifying and beautiful—fought with a savagery that was breathtaking to behold.

But for every creature we felled, three more seemed to take its place.

Then, I felt it—a familiar flare of power above us. I spun around, looking up into the mist, and saw it: red-violet electricity crackling through the fog, shooting downward like a comet straight toward me.

Carson.

Irritation flared inside me, then something darker—hate, raw and potent. Without thinking, I launched myself upward in a burst of emerald-gold energy, scythe raised to meet him. To end this.

As I closed the distance, he came into clear view—skin wrinkled and slashed with wounds, blood staining his leafy clothes and hair. His eyes flickered between red and violet—unstable, chaotic.

But when they flashed orange, I saw him—truly saw him. Not the goddess-possessed killer, but Carson himself. The freckled, red-haired, beady-eyed jerk who’d tormented me in another life.

Tears streaked down his face. And somehow, impossibly, I heard echoes—cruel voices, mocking laughter, words meant to cut and wound. I felt a deep, pervasive loneliness radiating from his soul, a pain that went beyond emotional into something deeply, irrevocably broken.

And for the first time, I saw Carson—not as my childhood tormentor, not as a murderer, but as another wounded soul. Someone who, like me, had been shaped by trauma. But, unlike me, he’d never found healing.

And aching pity bloomed in my chest, powerful and unexpected. I couldn't save him—he was too far gone, too dangerous—but I couldn't bring myself to kill him, either.

At the last second, I twisted my wrist, redirecting my attack. Instead of cleaving him with the blade, I swung the butt of my scythe toward him.

He managed to twist away, but his evasion sent him crashing into the centipede's head. The impact cracked its carapace, blood spraying. Violet electricity exploded from Carson's body, arcing across our mount.

Horror flooded me as I realized what was happening. The centipede was losing control, its legs spasming, grip on the cliff weakening.

"Ariana!" I screamed, still soaring upward from my leap.

Below me, Ariana's form blurred into action. Webbing shot out from her hands, wrapping around our allies—Scarlet, Kli'Taka, Archimedes. Then, in a burst of emerald light, she teleported upward, appearing just beneath me.

Her hand clasped mine, Kli'Taka wrapped around her body, Archimedes gripping her other hand while holding onto one of Scarlet's tails. Scarlet, in turn, had fastened her jaws around the arm of Zerek's brother, the ruby-eyed Sa’Khari man who’d insisted on coming with us. A few others clung to the chain of bodies—a herald, two soldiers.

With my free hand, I drove my scythe deep into the cliff face, anchoring us as the centipede lost its grip entirely.

I watched in helpless horror as our mount—and everyone still on it—fell away beneath us. The massive creature slammed into the pursuing giants, tangling with them as they all plummeted into the mist below. The bats followed, diving after them.

Among them, a crackling red-violet light—Carson—falling to his doom.

A strange, bittersweet ache bloomed in my gut. After that glimpse into his past, his pain, I understood him in a way I never had before. He would never find the healing I had found, never get the chance to rebuild himself from the shattered pieces of his life.

I felt an odd sense of loss as I watched that flickering light descend, grow fainter, and finally snuff out in the depths below.

Chapter 41 - Web-Shrouded Domain

Floating up high, Vireth looked down on a vast clearing. The hole gaped like a wound in the earth, its edges completely encased in webbing—thick, intricate strands that descended into darkness. It resembled one of those funnel traps, but scaled to nightmarish proportions.

Vireth's heart pounded against his ribs. Though they hovered at a safe distance, he could still make out movement—spiders crawling along the webbing, ranging from dog-sized to larger than horses. Thankfully, none appeared to have human features—just ordinary arachnids, if grotesquely oversized. He couldn't tell if he’d been spotted yet.

"Yes, this is it," said a voice beside him.

Vireth turned to see the crescent-masked Drifter, his glowing map illuminating his mask. The misty cartography pulsed, a bright point centered directly on the massive opening below. “It’s down there,” he confirmed, tapping a gloved finger against the glowing mark.

Vireth glanced over at Sveric and Nyvara. The twins stood on their own clouds, heads bowed together in quiet conversation, their crystalline compass pointing unwaveringly toward the hole. His suspicions crystallized—this must be some kind of storage chamber where the King kept his collected treasures, including the vestments they sought.

A wave of gratitude toward the Sundust Sage washed through him. They'd passed dozens of smaller openings on their journey. Without the sage's guidance, finding Gaia's vestments would have been nearly impossible in this forest labyrinth.

His gaze drifted past the twins, taking in the dark forest with its twisted black trees, webs clinging to every branch and stretching between trunks like twisted decorations. Beyond that, in the near distance, lay a vast wasteland—a place where trees had once stood but now lay fallen, gray and lifeless.

A shiver rippled through Vireth as he remembered the Voidlings they'd encountered earlier—creatures sucking life from the land itself, leaving only death in their wake. The memory of his brother's final moments flickered across his mind, unbidden and unwelcome. He pushed it away, focusing instead on the challenge ahead.

"Should we just…dive in?" Nyvara asked, maneuvering her cloud closer to his.

"I wouldn't," the Drifter responded, clapping his hands together. The misty map vanished. "Tap into the aura first."

Vireth frowned, reaching out with his spiritual senses. He detected the presence of many souls below, but nothing particularly distinctive. What was the Drifter asking him to sense?

As if reading his thoughts, the masked figure reached out, placing a hand on Vireth's shoulder. The contact sent a jolt through his system, enhancing his perception. Suddenly, he could sense something else—a weighty presence, immensely powerful, residing deep beneath the earth.

"He's down there," Vireth whispered, eyes widening.

Nyvara and Sveric turned toward him, concerned expressions mirrored on their pale faces.

Technically, they could dive down into the hole now—launch an attack, try to grab the vestments and flee. But the Eldritch King was a Wielder. Even with only two vestments, his power was formidable. A direct assault would be suicide.

From the corner of his eye, Vireth noticed Sveric tapping his wrist. A small crystal of ice jutted from his armor, glowing with inner light. Within it, a helmeted face materialized—another herald, answering Sveric's call.

"Request reinforcements at these coordinates," Sveric was saying, voice low and urgent.

Vireth bit his lip, gaze returning to the web-covered hole. Even with reinforcements, an attack seemed foolhardy at best, fatal at worst.

As he pondered their options, movement near the opening caught his attention. His senses detected the presence before his eyes confirmed it—a humanoid figure with two spider legs jutting from its shoulders and four human arms. Webs wrapped around its entire body like bandages, giving it a mummified appearance.

A glowing purplish-white ball of light rose from the figure, ascending toward their position. As it approached, Vireth noticed tiny wings fluttering on either side of the orb. A wisp?

The luminous messenger halted before them, hovering at eye level. A voice emanated from it—not the high, musical tones he associated with wisps like Pip, but something deeper, more resonant.

"A message from the King himself," it announced. "He sensed your approach, despite your dampened aura, and wishes to parley."

Vireth's mind raced. How long had the King known they were here, in his domain? Did he suspect they'd come for the vestments? Or was there some other reason he'd allow potential enemies so close to this hole?

"The Blight's corruption spreads more aggressively than ever before," the wisp continued. "It has become more virulent, more hungry. The King possesses knowledge that could save this land…and knowledge that could save Gaia's Wielder."

Vireth's heart skipped, blood buzzing in his veins.

"Entering the Blight is suicide," the wisp pressed on, its glow pulsing with each word. "The boy is in more danger than any of you know."

The message tugged at Vireth's caution, his skepticism. This could easily be a ruse—a trap to lure them in. And yet…how would the King know about Kazro entering the Blight? How could he have the resources to spy on him with so much of his army decimated?

Vireth exchanged glances with the others. Despite serving different masters, they all had a vested interest in Kazro's survival. Even the twins, loyal to the Frost Baroness as they were, clearly admired the young Transcendent. Their concern was genuine, not merely political.

“Please approach, immediately.” The wisp bobbed in what seemed to be a bow, then streaked back toward the webbed opening, its glow diminishing as it descended.

"What do you think?" Nyvara asked once the messenger was out of earshot.

"I think we need a plan," Vireth replied.

The Drifters huddled close. "We could scout the vestments while you talk with the King," one of them offered. "Our auras can be dampened to near invisibility."

To demonstrate, two of the Drifters melted into their clouds, which then shrank to the size of snowflakes, barely visible against the dark sky.

"We'll locate the vestments and signal you," came their whispered voices from the diminutive clouds. "Keep the King distracted."

Vireth and the rest of them nodded in agreement. It was a solid plan—perhaps their only viable option.

"Let's go," Vireth said, steeling himself.

Together, they began descending toward that vast opening—and toward whatever awaited them in the Eldritch King's web-shrouded domain.

Chapter 42 - Scarred Souls

I grabbed the next jutting rock, muscles burning as I hauled myself up. The stone bit into my fingers, rough edges scraping against calluses. My lungs ached with each breath, the air growing thinner as we ascended.

Glancing over, I caught sight of Ariana. Her spider legs made the climb look effortless, each limb finding purchase where human hands might slip. Every few moments, her glowing eyes would dart around, checking on everyone else. Watching. Protecting. My heart twisted at the sight—the princess who'd become something else entirely, yet somehow remained just as beautiful to me.

A crackling sound drew my attention. To my left, royal blue flames erupted in controlled bursts, illuminating the dimness. Archimedes hovered nearby, fire shooting from his boots like miniature thrusters. His flickering form cast dancing shadows across the rock face.

Earlier, he'd descended to check out what happened below—to look for survivors, to search for the archlords who'd descended hours ago and never returned. Now he was ascending, a glowing beacon against the gathering gloom. Questions burned in my mind, but they'd have to wait until we reached the top—which wouldn’t take long.

With a final heave, I pulled myself over the cliff edge, rolling onto solid ground and rising to my feet in one fluid motion. My limbs throbbed with a dull fire, but the pain was trivial after everything we'd endured.

Scarlet was already waiting, pacing anxiously along the ridge, her tails swishing back and forth. Kli'Taka perched on her back, pink eyes shimmering. Beyond them stood several soldiers—some with the green-trimmed uniforms of the Plague Lord's forces, others wearing the crystal-blue armor of the Frost Baroness. A handful of heralds stood among them, their enhanced auras pulsing in the fading light.

Ariana crawled up beside me, her spider legs retracting slightly as she found her balance. Her face was streaked with dirt, matted to her skin by sweat, her breath coming in short gasps. Despite everything, she gave me a strange smile—part relief, part something deeper that made my pulse skip.

I grabbed her forearm and squeezed, my eyes drawn past her to the vista beyond. The Blight stretched for miles—a vast gray expanse of textured stone. Rock outcroppings curled like Frito chips, their strange formations dotting the landscape all the way to the horizon. In the distance, massive spires jutted toward the sky, and beyond them, a mountainous range rose like a jagged wound against the darkening heavens.

Archimedes landed beside me with a soft hiss of flames, his boots scorching the stone underfoot. The blue glow of his fire-form painted everything in cool light.

“Looks like Mordor,” I whispered, still taking in the desolation. "Except without the lava..." I glanced upward, shocked to see the sun already sinking. Had it really taken us that long to cross the chasm?

"Mordor?" Archimedes' voice crackled like a campfire. "Is that a place on Earth?"

"Middle-earth," I replied, almost without thinking.

Archimedes gave me a curious look, head tilted. Ariana snickered, giving me a knowing smile that warmed me from the inside out. At least someone got the reference.

"What did you find down there?" I asked, nodding toward the chasm.

“And what about the archlords?” Ariana asked. “Were they still down there?”

Archimedes leaned on his staff, his gaze drifting back to the enormous rift. I followed his eyes, taking in the vast chasm, then the distant haze of green. From here, Gloomswallow seemed impossibly far away, like a memory of a nightmare.

"The archlords probably won't be joining us for a while," he said. "There are several heralds down there, still alive. Even a couple of injured archlords. When I left, they were still trying to save them."

I nodded, thoughts drifting to Carson. I didn't want to bring him up, not with Ariana within earshot, but I already assumed the boy was dead. An odd wistfulness settled in my chest—wondering how life would have been different if I'd died, still broken. Heart shattered. Unhealed.

Ariana shivered beside me, pressing her head into my shoulder. I hesitated, then carefully wrapped an arm around her back, feeling the strange bumps where her spider legs connected to her spine. She leaned into me, and my heart thudded harder, warmth rushing to the surface. I rested my cheek on her head, stomach fluttering. Damn, I loved her. And I wanted her to know, but…

Gaia's presence buzzed in my mind, warm and knowing. Why don't you tell her?

I stiffened. Right. Gaia knew my every thought, my every feeling. Now's not the right time, I thought back. Not with Archimedes standing right beside us. Not with heralds and soldiers just ten paces away, some talking, others sitting down, panting from exertion.

Green-veined soldiers gathered in one cluster, alongside robed healers with the same glowing patterns. The Frost Baroness's troops kept their distance, armor glittering like ice. And then there was that Sa’Khari—the tribal leader crouched at the cliff's edge, staring into the emptiness below.

I found myself watching him, remembering the hot anger, the pain Archimedes felt when around those people.

The mage followed my gaze. "That's Zerek's brother," he said quietly.

I spun to face him. "What!" Zerek had a brother? Memories flooded back—our brutal fights, his betrayal toward Kal’marath, helping me win in the end.

His final request: Tell my wife I'm sorry. Tell her that I did this for them.

I still wanted to complete that quest, but it sat so far down my list of priorities. I wanted to head over, though, and talk to Zerek’s brother. But what would I even say to the man? What could I possibly do? He knelt there, shoulders slumped, clearly mourning the Sa’Khari who'd fallen in the chasm.

Not now. I can’t talk to him now. Later, though.

Plus, we couldn't just stand here. We needed to keep moving.

“Let's go!” I called out to the heralds and soldiers. "We can't afford to wait around."

One of the heralds stepped forward—a man with a narrow face and armor like interlocking snake scales. “I…um…urge you to reconsider," he began, then immediately hesitated, eyes widening. "Of course, if you want to press on, we can, Wielder," he added, respect evident in every syllable. "But the Blight is deadly at nightfall. I would know."

The respect in his voice struck me; I knew that if I insisted, he would follow without question. They all would.

But this was one of the heralds who'd traveled into the Blight before—one of the Plague Lord's men who'd survived. Gaia's scythe materialized in my hand. I planted its butt against the ground, standing tall, wind blowing at my cloak.

“You know this place better than I do.” Everyone watched, hanging on every word. I felt Gaia's warmth, his pleasure, his pride. “Plus, many of you are hurt. We should rest after what happened. But I want to put some distance between us and the chasm first."

The herald nodded quickly, excitement flickering across his face. People began helping the wounded to their feet as I marched forward, Scarlet striding beside me. Ariana and Archimedes stayed close as we crossed the blighted terrain.

We reached one of the Frito-shaped rock formations—a curved outcropping that formed a natural shelter. It was a good distance from the chasm. “We'll set up camp here.”

People filed in, limping, setting down packs and weapons. I wanted to use Verdant Beacon to heal them, but wouldn’t dare. It would call every monster from miles around to our location.

Which makes me wonder. Are we far enough away from the chasm?

“Hold on,” I said.

The herald with the snakeskin armor turned, curiosity in his yellow eyes.

I glanced back toward the chasm, still visible in the distance. "What if those creatures follow us up?"

The herald's expression softened. "The moons will protect us," he said, gesturing to the twin crescents rising as the sun disappeared. "The Voidlings—the Soulless Ones—may emerge, but they rarely venture far from the chasm."

At the mention of "Soulless Ones," my mind flashed to those people with eyes like endless pits. I remembered the terror on their faces—that strange pity rising up in my gut.

“We’ll be safe here, Wielder,” the herald said. I nodded, my worry eased, and I gestured for everyone else to enter our makeshift shelter.

Once we were all inside, I activated Group Shield. A massive force field materialized around our entire company, shimmering faintly in the growing darkness. Just in case.

Brushing off my hands, I looked across the company. They separated from each other, three groups congregating—people from the Frost Baroness's lands, the Sundust Reaches, and Gloomswallow. All of them divided, doing justice to the name of this region. In that moment, Archimedes' words echoed in my head. You are more than just the Windwhisper Wilds’ guardian. This entire region needs you, Kazro. They need a guardian like you. A leader like you. A protector, like you.

I let out a long sigh and pushed the thought away. Too much to consider right now.

My body felt energized but with a soul-deep achiness that came from pushing beyond limits. I dismissed the scythe and slid down against the stone wall, settling on the ground with my legs stretched out before me.

Archimedes, Ariana, Scarlet, and Kli'Taka approached, forming a loose circle. Gaia materialized beside me, floating cross-legged in the air, a smirk on his misty face.

"Not bad," he said.

I looked up at him. "What?"

"I almost don't recognize you."

I frowned, still confused.

"Where's the boy who hated giving orders? Who feared public speaking? Who shrank from taking charge?" Gaia's smirk softened to something almost…proud.

I let out a sound that was half-sigh, half-laugh.

"Did you notice that I didn’t add my own voice back there, when you spoke?” Gaia said.

"I noticed that," I said. "Why?"

"Letting you take the reins." His emerald eyes glittered. "Remember, I'm not in the business of making mindless slaves. I turn my Wielders into leaders."

Warmth spread through my chest, not entirely from Gaia's presence. The god actually approved of me. Saw something in me worth cultivating. And that meant more than words could express.

I called up my interface, curious where I stood:

[Kazro – Attributes]

Class: Transcendent

Subclass: Sower

Level: 265

XP: 5,675

Rank: F

Without hesitation, I poured all of that experience into my scythe.

[Ceremonial Scythe]

Level 4

XP: 15,440/25,000 + 5,675 = 21,115

[Ceremonial Scythe]

Level 4

XP: 21,115/25,000

My goal hadn't changed: bring both the scythe and crown to level five, transcend them. Break the oath. Become strong enough to challenge the Plague Lord, the Frost Baroness, and anyone else who threatened the people I loved.

The scythe's progress bar had filled significantly—it was close now. Very close to level five. Excitement fluttered in my stomach at the thought.

"With Ariana's herald status complete," Gaia said, breaking into my thoughts, "this is the perfect time to initiate a new herald."

I perked up at that. We all exchanged glances, and without needing much discussion, the choice became obvious. Scarlet, with her incredible speed, would be the perfect candidate to help us traverse the Blight, to outrun any enemies that might pursue us.

I accessed the ability, Herald's Awakening.

•Herald’s Awakening (Ally Empowerment – Range: Touch – Burnout: 75%)

Bestows an ally with the title of Herald, increasing their stats by 75%.

Grants them a unique ability based on their class.

Transformation takes 28 hours and consumes vast amounts of energy.

Energy surged up through my body, tingling along my arm and gathering in my palm. I pressed my hand against Scarlet's forehead, and light flooded through her.

She let out a growling yap, her tails whipping as she staggered back. Power drained from me so rapidly that my vision tunneled, and I slammed into the ground.

"Kazro!" Ariana cried out.

I fought to stay conscious as gentle hands helped me sit up. Sweat poured down my face, my limbs leaden.

Gaia appeared directly in front of me, snapping his fingers. "You with me, kid? How many fingers am I holding up?"

My vision swam, a hundred green fingers seeming to float in front of me. I squinted. “…Twenty?”

Gaia gave me a thumbs up. "Close enough."

My interface flickered before my eyes:

[Heralds: 2/4] [Ariana: 100%] [Scarlet: Initiated - 0% - In Progress]

Scarlet was still shivering, backing away, snorting and pawing at her nose. The transformation had begun—it would take time now.

Despite my exhaustion, I managed to stay upright as the others gathered close. “You okay?” Ariana asked.

“I’m fine,” I said, words slurring. I sat up a little more as Kli’Taka wrapped her arms around me, Ariana resting a hand on my shoulder. A moment passed in silence, and I could feel the color returning to my face.

Everyone was watching, as if anticipating something. I frowned, looking at each face in turn. They seemed to be waiting for me to speak, to offer some…reassurance? Something else? The weight of their expectations pressed on me like physical pressure.

I thought back to the revelations I'd had about Archimedes' pain, about Ariana's trauma, about what Scarlet and Kli'Taka had endured. The quiet moment stretched, and I found myself wanting to reach out, to connect.

"You all know the pain I went through," I said finally, my voice soft but steady.

They watched me intently, nodding, silent.

"Recently, I…discovered I can sense others' pain more deeply. More poignantly than ever before." I swallowed, my throat tightening. "I don't know if it's because I'm becoming more attuned to aura, or whatever…” I looked around at their faces, illuminated by the gentle emerald glow of the protective dome. "But whatever it is, I want you all to heal too. And I want to help.”

Something shifted in the air between us—an opening, a vulnerability that felt both terrifying and necessary.

I reached out, carefully taking Ariana's hand. Her eyes widened, misty in the dim light. With my other hand, I gripped Archimedes' wrist. The mage returned the gesture, his brilliant eyes narrowing as he nodded slowly.

Together, they reached for Scarlet, completing our circle, because Kli’Taka was already touching me.

“And just know, before we start, that I’m not the one who can heal you," I said, feeling the truth of the words as they left me. "I'm not that powerful. But our god—Gaia—he is."

I felt a pulse of pleasure from Gaia, could sense his smile. Taking a deep breath, I closed my eyes, feeling his warmth tingling through my veins, flowing through my arms and into the others.

Golden-green light flashed behind my eyelids as the connection formed, bright as sunrise, warm as summer. And in that moment, we were one, connected through shared trauma, diving deep to heal the wounds scarring their souls.

Chapter 43 - Father Wants Him

Pathetic. Useless. Worthless.

Static crackled across Carson's skin. As he blinked, he found himself locked to the floor of a dark room, arms and legs immobilized. Tears streamed down his face, hot and shameful.

But that wasn't right.

He wasn’t home.

He was somewhere worse.

He blinked, vision blurring, then focusing. Memory clicked into place like jagged puzzle pieces. The fall. The impact. The shattering pain as he'd slammed into the ground.

Blinking again, he found himself surrounded by mist and darkness. High above—impossibly distant—a sliver of sky was visible, a cruel reminder of the world he tumbled from. Electricity danced across his body, sinking into his flesh, his bones.

Worthless. Pathetic.

The words grumbled in his mind, not his own thoughts but something invasive. Something other. He tried to move, but white-hot agony shot through his limbs, his muscles, to something far deeper. A scream tore from his throat as he gritted his teeth against the pain.

"Your spirit is shattered," Krypkryla said, her voice laced with static, frustrated and biting. "What did I tell you about STRAIGHT. UP. ATTACKING?" She huffed. "You need to let ME do the fighting, REMEMBER?"

Her presence crackled through his entire body, a live wire trying to mend frayed connections, burning like alcohol on an open wound.

Memory flashed—him flying through the air toward Kazro, who hurtled toward him in turn. Time seemed to slow in that moment. He'd looked into Kazro's eyes and felt something he'd never sensed from another person before. A light. Pure. Brilliant. Blinding.

Then, Kazro smacked him aside like he was nothing.

His stomach sank, sourness rising in his throat. Rage boiled up from that pit, so deep and intoxicating he felt drunk on it. It clouded his mind, narrowed his vision to a pinpoint of hate.

A scuffling sound pulled him from this spiral. Shifting his gaze—even that small movement sent spasms of pain down his neck—Carson spotted someone. A Voidling. The creature stared at him with eyes like black holes, face gaunt and stretched, hair floating around its head like dark mist. Its clothing swirled against its body, as if caught in an invisible current.

And it wasn't alone. Dozens surrounded him, heads cocked at identical angles, watching him with those empty sockets. His heart hammered against his ribs, each pulse sending fresh waves of heat through his shattered body.

The goddess within didn't seem to notice the creatures, still grumbling as her presence flowed up and down his spirit, crackling like a damaged power line. The Voidlings just stood there, staring, patient as death.

Looking past them, Carson saw others of their kind gathering corpses—bodies in green armor, crumpled and broken. Beyond them, a massive giant picked up pieces of the centipede, placing the segments near where the Voidlings piled the human dead.

Pressure built in Carson's chest, constricting his lungs. Cold sweat beaded on his forehead as panic set in. He tried again to move, desperate to escape, to run, to do anything but lie here helpless.

"STOP MOVING!" Krypkryla shrieked in his head. “BE STILL!”

He froze, irritation flaring through his terror. Always commands. Always control. First the Plague Lord with his contract, now this goddess treating him like a puppet with tangled strings. He was so sick of idiots like—

A shiver ran through him, sudden coldness seeping over his skin like frost forming on a window. The Voidlings' pit-like eyes widened. They let out soft whimpers, scuttling backward, retreating from…what?

Carson frowned, confusion momentarily overriding his fear.

Then, he saw it. A glossy blob of slime sliding across the ground toward the carcasses, moving with terrible purpose. Several more followed, converging on the pile of bodies. Mouths opened in the featureless masses, swallowing limbs and torsos whole.

One slid up beside Carson, cocking to one side, then the other. It rose up, still slimy and glistening like spilled ink. As it towered over him, it began to change—forming a sort of beak on what might have been its face, sprouting what resembled feathers along its surface. Yet it remained impossibly skinny, like a starved vulture made of goo.

Another materialized on his other side, meatier than the first but sporting the same elongated beak. A third appeared, so emaciated it seemed barely there at all. All three leaned in, studying him with holes where eyes should be.

Krypkryla’s power surged, and crackling electricity snapped at the nearest figure. It slid back quickly, those eye-holes widening.

A god-touched, a voice echoed in Carson's mind. Not his own. Not the goddess's. Something else entirely.

The one that attacked Gaia's slave, the larger one replied, its thoughts somehow flowing into Carson's consciousness.

Father wants him, the first responded.

He can use this one. Use its rage, the squat one added.

But its spirit…it's cracked. Broken, the other whispered.

Father can fix that. Can use this. Can stop Gaia's slave.

All three nodded to one another, a decision reached without words. They slid forward in unison, leaning in, mouths stretching impossibly wide. Carson screamed as they engulfed him, his body convulsing. Electricity crackled out from his skin, popping against their forms, but they pushed through the resistance.

They enveloped him completely, swallowed him in darkness.

And then, nothing.

Chapter 44 - Confrontation

Archimedes sat straddling Scarlet's back, gripping Ariana's shoulders. The fox-wolf's powerful muscles bunched and stretched as she sprinted, gray stone blurring past in endless waves.

The blighted landscape stretched for miles, broken only by an occasional pool of dark water. Towering spires rose in the distance, still hours away, despite their breakneck pace. They'd been traveling since dawn, but time felt distorted to Archimedes, the hours blending together like smoke.

A warmth tingled inside his core, creeping up into his flickering face. The sensation expanded as his thoughts drifted back to the previous night. Kazro had guided each of them through individual visions, filling them with a refreshing energy Archimedes had never experienced before.

But the boy hadn't forced them to confront anything directly. He'd simply stood with them, present in their visions and traumas, a silent pillar of support. Witnessing. Experiencing their pain alongside them.

Even now, Archimedes found himself sucking in a deep breath, absorbing the aura radiating off Kazro. He sank into the vision of that night again—the night, when the Sa’Khari massacred his clan, hundreds of them tearing through tents, severing Drifters in half. Kal’marath approached from the distance, wielding a long black blade, ruby eyes glowing bright.

Even though he'd dipped in and out of this same situation countless times, his core started pulsing, heat racing through his channels.

A sickening anger churned deep within, visceral and raw, growing with each passing moment. Just as it threatened to consume him, a wash of tingling warmth flowed through his soul, and a voice whispered—Kazro's and Gaia's, intertwined as one:

You cannot heal alone. You need something, someone, much stronger than yourself.

Light flooded Archimedes' core, filling the void inside, mending the shattered pieces of his heart bit by bit. He revisited that moment again and again, watching his clan fall, accepting Gaia's holy light, allowing it to wash over him. Minutes slipped into hours as he let himself heal, truly heal, for the first time since—

Yelling knocked him from his meditation.

He glanced over to see Zerek's brother shouting at one of the soldiers with green glowing veins.

His anger spiked again, and the pain returned in full force, fracturing what little healing had taken place in his shattered heart. He peeled his gaze away, tensing painfully, and breathed in slowly, trying to calm the storm raging inside.

As he did, he glanced up to see several archlords flying overhead, insect wings beating rapidly, most of them conversing with one another.

After staring for a time, he stared straight ahead. The landscape had begun to change—orange stripes cut through the gray stone, looking like waves frozen in time. More pools of water appeared, most dark as pitch, though one caught his eye—oddly bluish with an oil slick shimmering on its surface.

He turned his attention to the way ahead, continuing to breathe deeply, trying to soothe his pounding core. Towering spires rose all around, and beyond, a massive canyon wall with three different paths branching away from each other.

They reached the shadow of the canyon in moments. Kazro pulled back on Scarlet's fur, slowing her pace as he examined each opening with narrowed eyes. A couple of archlords landed nearby, their wings folding against their backs with a soft chitinous click.

"Which way?" one called out, striding toward Kazro.

While they discussed the path ahead, Archimedes found his gaze drawn again to Rekhael, then up to the sun hanging in the hazy sky, then back to Kazro. The Wielder sat a short distance away, deep in conversation, Gaia on his shoulder—the miniature, emerald god gesticulating wildly as he spoke.

He can handle this, Archimedes thought. As much as he wanted to join their discussion, something else pulled at him.

Rekhael stood apart from the group, hands on his hips, panting slightly. Unlike everyone else, his tan skin remained dry, unmarked by sweat, despite the exertion.

When Archimedes locked eyes with the man, pain lanced through his soul, fresh fractures spreading with each beat of his core. Kazro's words echoed in his mind: Don't hold back. Don't push away. Confront the pain.

And in that moment, Archimedes realized he needed to do that right now. He needed to confront the pain this man represented.

He slid off Scarlet's back and strode forward, passing heralds and soldiers who stepped away, watching him pass. Some stared after him with curiosity, others with reverence.

Holding nothing back, Archimedes walked directly up to Rekhael and spoke, saying things festering deep inside: "Your clan murdered my people."

Rekhael spun to face him, ruby eyes widening with shock. His expression quickly hardened. “Your people were holding back valuable resources!” he yelled. “Resources my people needed.”

Heat rushed through Archimedes' channels, his skin flaring brighter, the flames crackling. His core pounded like a war drum.

"And so killing was your only option?" he demanded, voice tight.

"Men and women would die without those resources,” Rekhael shouted, his own anger rising to match Archimedes'. "It was our people or yours."

Archimedes flinched. This was news to him—but it didn't make it right. It didn't justify the slaughter. He stood there, speechless, feeling Gaia's warmth intermingling with his own hot pain, a confusing cocktail of emotions that threatened to tear him apart from the inside.

"You speak as if you had the right to decide who lives and who dies," Archimedes said, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper.

“When faced with extinction, every option is the right option!”

Something inside Archimedes snapped. His emotions flared beyond containment, pushing further into his open wound—further than he'd ever allowed them to go. Fire erupted from his body in a violent burst, and Rekhael staggered backward, arms raised to shield his face.

Archimedes spun away, storming off with flames still licking at his heels. Why had he even tried to talk with him? Why push into this anger, this pain?

As he stood off to one side, breathing hard, trying to calm the inferno raging inside him, he sensed an approach. Kazro walked toward him—the boy's brown hair streaked with emerald, his eyes a striking gold and red, the irises holding a subtle luminescence, even in daylight. His skin was a curious patchwork—subtly green with gold veins on one side, suddenly black with angry red veins on the other. His cloak bore a diamond pattern, tendrils of mist flowing from it like living smoke.

Archimedes tensed, expecting Kazro to ask him what happened. Instead, the boy rested a hand on his shoulder and gave him a nod of respect.

He released a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. “What did the archlords say?”

Kazro sighed. “Any of these paths could lead toward the major spawning point.”

"Then we pick one," Archimedes said, scanning the three openings.

“Agreed. Though, as we do, could you fly up occasionally and check if we're headed in the right direction?”

“I could.” Archimedes nodded. "Though, I should warn you—not only is the haze thick up there, but the archlords mentioned deadly plants as well. But if I'm only up there for a second, it shouldn't be a problem."

With that settled, Kazro announced they'd be taking the center canyon. Everyone agreed, though several exchanged nervous glances, clearly worried about what might be lurking in the shadows ahead.

Archimedes understood their hesitation. Anything could be waiting for them in those narrow stone passages. But it was the only way forward.

As Kazro hopped onto Scarlet and urged her forward, the group followed. Archimedes fell into stride beside the fox-wolf, his flames dimmed but still flickering with the remnants of his anger.

They approached the center canyon, the walls looming higher with each step. Suddenly, a tingle shot up Archimedes' soul—a warning. He spun around, eyes scanning the distant landscape. A dark figure immediately vanished into the haze.

Ice shot through his channels, a spike of surprise and anxiety that made him shiver. He stared out across the stony landscape, slowing his pace. The feeling of watching eyes persisted, prickling along his soul, but he saw no one else.

He turned and hurried toward the group, wanting to warn Kazro.

They weren't as alone as he'd initially thought.

Chapter 45 - Clever Little Rats

The temperature plummeted as Vireth descended. Cold air raked his skin, each breath crystallizing before his face. The cloying scent of webbing clung to his nostrils—sweetly putrid, like rotting fruit. His stomach lurched, not from the descent but from what awaited below.

Nyvara and Sveric flanked him on their clouds, silent guardians in this madness. He stole a glance at them, warmth swelling in his chest. They didn't have to come. Didn't have to risk everything on this gambit. Yet here they were, plunging into darkness beside him, faces set with the same grim determination that burned in his own gut.

The light from Nyvara's crystal pulsed brighter, casting eerie shadows across webbed walls. The illumination revealed what the darkness had mercifully hidden—thousands of spiders clinging to every surface, watching with unblinking eyes. Some were massive, bed-sized monstrosities with clusters of gleaming orbs for eyes. Others were smaller but somehow more disturbing—intelligent eyes peering from hairy faces, while the worst bore human heads on bloated torsos, faces frozen in expressions of agony or ecstasy. Eggs clustered in bulbous sacs along the tunnel walls, some translucent enough to reveal shadowy movements within.

Vireth suppressed a shudder, focusing his attention on the darkness below.

“So many….” Nyvara’s voice was pitched low, but in the oppressive quiet, it carried. “Maybe…we should wait for reinforcements?”

“Shh,” Sveric whispered, his eyes darting to the watching spiders. "Several heralds have responded to my call. They're heading here now.”

“We wait for them?”

“No. We keep going.”

Vireth nodded, not trusting his voice. It was too late to pull back. The Drifters had split off a mile back, following the pulse of the vestments—a signature he couldn't even sense himself. Their plan hinged on that search while he played distraction.

The tunnel suddenly opened into a vast chamber, stretching beyond the limits of their light. As they continued their descent, they had to weave between massive strands of webbing that stretched into the darkness.

Something shifted in the shadows ahead. Not movement, exactly, but a presence—an aura that expanded outward, pressing against Vireth's mind like a physical weight. Dark, suffocating power radiated through the chamber, making the air thick and difficult to breathe.

A chuckle echoed through the darkness—deep and rich and utterly wrong, like honey mixed with blood. The webs around them vibrated, thrummed.

Bright purple eyes blinked in the darkness below. First two, then four, then six—a constellation of malevolent light. A figure emerged from the shadows, each movement graceful despite his monstrous form.

A wicked crown of jagged obsidian adorned his head, each spike longer than Vireth's forearm. His face—if it could be called that—hosted a sharp-toothed grin, too wide for any human face, splitting his beard-covered jaw nearly to the ears.

Four thick, meaty spider legs jutted from his back, supporting his weight as he crawled from one strand to the next. Animal skins draped his torso, thick and hairy, adorned with bones and tiny skulls that clicked as he approached.

“How nice of the monarchs’ heralds to pay me a visit…” The Eldritch King's voice echoed through the chamber.

A shiver wracked Vireth's spine. Bile rose in his throat, acid and burning. But beneath the revulsion churned a hot, flickering heat. Yes, he was here to distract, but he needed answers about Kazro. "What danger is he in?" The words burst from him, sharper than intended.

The Eldritch King's grin widened, revealing row upon row of needle teeth. "Answer me this first." He circled them, spider legs clicking against cottony strands. "What are heralds doing out here in my territory? And how did they find my exact location?" His eyes narrowed, though his smile never faltered. "Surely the monarchs have better, more pressing matters than to eliminate me."

Irritation spiked through Vireth's chest, hot and jagged. This man was worthy of death. This was the idiot who aided Shahar—who’d sent heralds to intercept them. This slimy, backstabbing worm had nearly cost them everything, and now, here he was, all smug and confident.

"You were stupid to help Shahar," he spat, the words tumbling out before he could catch them, raw and honest.

The Eldritch King threw back his head and laughed, the discordant sound bouncing off distant walls.

"Our monarchs have new resources, new ways of tracking, of finding." Sveric met the twisted monarch's gaze. "No matter where you hide, we will find you. And you will answer us.”

The Eldritch King circled them on his thick spider legs, keeping just beyond arm's reach. Vireth sensed other spiders closing in, drawn by the confrontation, clustering in the shadows with hungry anticipation.

"Answers?" The King's voice dropped to a silken whisper. "I'll give you one worth trembling over." He leaned in, purple eyes blazing. "We were all big fish in a small pond—you, me, and your masters.” His grin widened. “The Blight… It did not just happen by accident, by some god's lack of care, as many believe."

He paused, seeming to savor their attention. "No… This Blight we speak of is someone else's territory. A being far stronger than all us monarchs combined. So strong, in fact, you’d lose sleep over how close his land is to ours."

Cold dread was pooling in Vireth's stomach, spreading outward through his limbs.

"And the reason he doesn't fight? The reason he doesn't strike personally?" The Eldritch King's voice dropped further. "Well, other more pressing issues have his attention. Issues that would be momentarily forgotten if Gaia's Wielder somehow managed to succeed in his quest."

Vireth's heart pounded against his ribs now, each beat a hammer blow. Fear for Kazro rose like flood waters, threatening to drown rational thought. His fingers curled into fists, nails biting crescents into his palms.

The Blight? Another territory? Not just dead land but someone's domain? If the Eldritch King spoke the truth—and that remained a massive if—then Kazro wasn't just risking his own life, but that of the entire region.

But why? Why would destroying a spawning point draw the attention of whatever ruled the Blight?

Before he could pursue that question, a screeching, spiritual wave blasted through the chamber, tearing through his mind like shattered glass.

He recoiled—and even the Eldritch King flinched, his multiple eyes going wide. The spiders surrounding them shrieked in chorus, their cries amplifying the psychic agony.

Through the cacophony, Vireth sensed it—two signals pulsing through the aura. One, bright and hopeful. The other, jittery and anxious. The Drifters. They'd found the vestments but were in danger.

The Eldritch King looked shocked for a split second. Then slowly, he pivoted his unsettling face toward Vireth, that terrible smile stretching wider.

“Clever little rats…” he whispered.

Then, he struck.

Chapter 46 - Sparring

Our group trudged forward at a snail's pace. I chafed at the delay, shifting restlessly on Scarlet's back, but knew it was necessary. Archlords flew ahead, branching off down various paths to scout for danger and find the safest route forward.

Canyon walls stretched for miles into the sky, vibrant stripes of orange and dark crimson cutting through the granite facades. These weren't uniform—just scattered patches breaking up the monotony, like nature's half-hearted attempt at decoration.

Small tufts of strange, fibrous grass poked through cracks in the ground, their stalks a brilliant tangerine.

Up ahead, Kli’Taka darted back and forth, chasing some kind of hopping bug. The insect bounded away in erratic patterns, reminding me of crickets back home—desperate little things that could never truly escape, just delay the inevitable with frantic jumps.

Ariana's arms were still wrapped around my waist, but her embrace felt different—tense, guarded. I glanced over my shoulder, catching a glimpse of her solemn face. She'd been uncharacteristically quiet since last night—since our meditation, when I delved into her trauma. The memory of it made my chest ache.

My gaze drifted to Archimedes, who strode alone, several yards away. Head bowed, deep in thought, flames of blue flickered across his face beneath that wide-brimmed hat of his. His cloak billowed dramatically in the canyon breeze, staff clicking against stone with each measured step. The sound echoed softly against the walls, marking time like a metronome. Still hurting… He’s still hurting.

Patience, Gaia whispered. You didn’t heal in a day, remember?

I gave a sharp nod, letting out a harsh breath.

Heralds trotted alongside me, their armor catching the sunlight. Green-veined soldiers marched in formation, interspersed with healers whose arms glowed with green light. Bright blue armor marked the followers of the Frost Baroness, and that one ruby-eyed Sa’Khari moved with shoulders slumped, near the front of our procession. Zerek’s brother… When is the right time to talk with him?

Far behind us, almost deliberately keeping his distance, walked Archlord Tenebris. His three eyes constantly scanned our surroundings, his scarred face a map of past battles. Dented armor clung to his powerful frame, telling stories of conflicts I could only imagine.

A thought struck me, sudden and insistent. I was developing XP and melee skills, but at a glacial pace. Meanwhile, I was literally surrounded by combat masters. This felt like a wasted opportunity, if I didn’t act.

"Archlord Tenebris!" My voice cracked through the relative quiet, and I saw not a few of the nearby soldiers scramble for their weapons.

The three-eyed warrior flinched, his gaze snapping toward me with predatory focus. Heralds glanced over, nervously.

"Would you spar with me?" I called out, my heart already quickening.

Tenebris's expression shifted to something between confusion and curiosity. "What could a Wielder possibly learn from me?" He said, but I caught the way his eyes flicked to the watching heralds.

"I can throw powerful attacks," I replied, "but in a close-quarters duel? I'd be dead in seconds. I need to know how to hold my own."

Tension crackled between us as we stared at each other. The silence stretched, heavy and expectant.

Finally, Tenebris sighed—a sound like grinding stone. Brilliant insect wings burst from his back with a sound like tearing silk, and he buzzed forward, moving to the front of our group.

I slid off Scarlet's back, my boots hitting the ground with a thud, a thrill shooting up my spine as I hurried after him. Gaia's scythe materialized in my hand with an eager pulse of warmth.

The weapon's XP meter flickered into my vision—almost at level five. My heart leapt. The crown was close, too, but the scythe was my priority. Still, I wondered if I should distribute experience to other items—maybe even Archimedes' staff, or weapons borrowed from the soldiers?

Focus on the vestments, Gaia said. He was silent a moment, then an interface popped up, blinking. Haven’t used these for awhile. They could be useful…

[BADGES]

[BP: 17/50 slots used]

[7 x Peril Power: Increases Attack by +5 when below 5 HP.]

[10 x Lucky Miss: If the wearer is at 10 Health or below, incoming attacks have a 5-10% chance of missing.]

Shit. The badges. How could I have forgotten?

Though, as I stared at them, I frowned. They were kind of impotent now, but more spots were available. I glanced at a badge I hadn’t attached—one that would summon a Skyborn merchant.

Would he even come to such a dangerous place? I wondered.

"You never know," Gaia muttered.

I clicked on the badge.

[Summon Merchant?]

“Yes.”

[Merchant Notified]

Tenebris hovered before me, wings a blur of iridescent motion.

"Teach me what you know," I said, gripping the scythe tighter.

Skepticism clouded all three of his eyes, but I caught a flicker of something else—respect, maybe. Or amusement.

"What do you already know?" he asked.

"Not much," I admitted.

"Show me." His voice rumbled like distant thunder. "But promise to fight only with the weapon itself. No godly powers."

I nodded, but hesitation gripped me. The scythe could rip through any normal weapon. "Gaia, can you—"

I'll dull the blade, Gaia responded in my mind. It won't slice through anything.

The edge of the blade blurred slightly, its lethal sharpness dampened. I squared my shoulders and faced Tenebris.

The Archlord thrust without warning. His weapon—a curved blade that seemed to drink the light—whistled toward my head. I barely managed to bring the scythe up in time, the impact jarring my arms to the shoulder.

We traded blows, circling each other as the group continued its march. My muscles burned with effort, sweat beading on my forehead within minutes. Tenebris moved with impossible grace, each attack flowing into the next like water. There was no wasted motion, no telegraphed intention.

I lunged, sweeping the scythe in a wide arc. Tenebris simply wasn't there when the blade passed through his previous position.

"Predictable," he grunted, tapping my exposed back with his weapon.

Again and again, he found openings in my defense. He was toying with me, I realized, using just enough force to make his point while holding back his true power.

But I wasn't helpless. Occasionally, I managed to force him back, or evade his strikes with a well-timed dodge. My XP kept ticking upward with each minor success.

After twenty minutes of grueling combat, Tenebris finally stepped back. Sweat glistened on his scarred face, but his breathing remained infuriatingly steady while my lungs heaved for air.

"Not…terrible," he conceded, and the faint praise sent a ridiculous surge of pride through me. "But this is what you need to learn."

He held out his weapon horizontally. I mirrored the gesture with my scythe.

"Ready?" he asked.

I nodded, adrenaline making my heart pound against my ribs.

He nodded back. Then, he struck.

***

Ariana clutched Scarlet's fur, watching as Kazro sparred with the Archlord. The fox-wolf maintained her steady gait as the entourage continued forward, the duelists keeping pace while exchanging blows.

Every clash of their weapons sent vibrations through the canyon air. Despite what Kazro said about his lack of skill, the confidence in his movements took her breath away. He wasn't as polished as the Archlord—not even close—but there was something beautiful in his raw determination.

Warm power pulsed through her veins, amplified by last night's meditation with Kazro. Her heart fluttered at the memory, and she released a soft, shaky breath. Glancing down, she took deep breaths, noticing something. Scarlet's fur was changing—small leaves sprouting from a thick coat that was taking on a golden-emerald hue.

She's becoming a herald too. The thought should have filled her with excitement, but a numbness lingered inside, cold as the night Carson had killed her.

She dug her fingers deeper into Scarlet's fur, tremors racking her body. A poison ran thick in her blood—a toxic hate she couldn’t rip out. Meditation had helped, but it wasn't enough. Not nearly enough. Carson's face still haunted her, his mocking laugh echoing in her nightmares.

Warmth suddenly flooded up her hands and legs, where skin touched Scarlet. Ariana blinked, vision blurring with unshed tears. Golden-emerald mist rose from the fox-wolf's fur, curling around her like a protective embrace.

Hey. The voice in her head was unmistakable, but shocking nonetheless.

Gaia? What the heck. She'd never heard the god speak directly to her mind.

You're a herald now, Gaia's voice came again, gentle. You're more connected to me than ever before.

Something about his tone—the fact that he'd reached out to her personally—broke a dam inside. Her chest heaved, throat constricting as the rage she'd been fighting to contain surged upward, unstoppable now.

I hate him, she thought, the words burning in her mind. I hate him I hate him I HATE HIM.

Her fingernails dug into her palms. Behind her closed eyelids, Carson's face leered at her, his laughter echoing. She could still feel his hands on her throat, still smell the alcohol on his breath.

He killed me, she continued, mental voice cracking as her body trembled. He took everything from me. My life, my family, my future.

Tears slid down her cheeks now, hot and silent. Scarlet's fur grew damp.

And I'm so angry. All the time. It never stops. Even when I sleep, I dream about his face, about what I'd do if I had the power to make him suffer like he made me suffer.

The thoughts poured from her unfiltered, a flood she couldn't contain. Her chest burned with each ragged breath.

He deserves to pay. He deserves to die. I want justice. The need for it blazed through her like wildfire, consuming everything in its path.

He will face justice, Gaia assured her. But your anger is only keeping a festering wound open. A wound that's hurting you.

I know, she admitted. I'm trying to let go, trying to forgive, but it feels impossible.

Broken bones don't heal in a day, Gaia said, and a radiant warmth bloomed in her chest. The simple truth of those words made her eyes prick with fresh tears. The understanding in his tone was almost too much to bear.

This will take time to heal, he continued, but know that I'm always here for you.

She nearly wept then, wiping hastily at her face, her vision blurring completely.

And don't worry about that bastard Carson, Gaia added. He broke an oath straight up. I'm not sure how he managed to fight before, but a broken oath is never good. He's probably lying crippled at the bottom of that chasm.

The image was strangely haunting. A twinge of pity flickered through her, surprising in its intensity. Yet that cold anger still sat deep in her core, unmoved.

Gaia's presence enveloped her like a warm blanket. Breathe, he instructed. Let the emotion pass through you. Don't shove it away.

She inhaled deeply, then released it slowly, repeating the pattern as they continued their journey.

[Skill Unlocked: Meditation]

Ahead, several soldiers joined Kazro in sparring. Some laughed as they traded blows, while others stood aloof, uncomfortable with the camaraderie. Still others watched with an obvious desire to participate but held back. Kazro now fought multiple opponents at once, his movements growing more fluid with each exchange.

The entire procession continued its winding path through the canyon, whose walls showed more orange and dark red with each passing mile. Small, vibrant blue puddles dotted the path occasionally, reflecting the sky in perfect miniature.

But Ariana couldn't tear her eyes from Kazro. Suddenly, he glanced in her direction. Time seemed to slow, her heart skipping as his eyes locked with hers. Sweat glistened on his brow, somehow making him look even more attractive. A brilliant ache sparked inside her chest.

Kazro, her only light from Earth. The only boy she’d ever truly loved.

Her heart pounded wildly as he called off the sparring and began walking toward her.

***

Don't bring up her trauma at all, Gaia whispered in my mind. She's been working through it the whole time you've been sparring.

I nodded, wiping sweat from my brow as I strode over to where Ariana sat atop Scarlet's back. I ran my hand across the fox-wolf's fur, earning a pleasant purr as I fell into step beside them.

Ariana's eyes were misty, rimmed with red. She gave me a quick smile before looking straight ahead again, blinking rapidly. Something pulled tight in my chest at the sight.

All around us, the mood had lightened. Soldiers sparred with each other up ahead, trading techniques and laughing. The tension that had defined our march earlier seemed to have dissipated, at least momentarily.

[Gloomswallow - Reputation: +35]

[Total: 50/100]

I took a deep breath, blowing it out slowly as I scanned our surroundings. My gaze swept up the canyon walls to their distant tops, searching for any sign of the shadowy figure Archimedes had spotted earlier. So far, nothing seemed to be following us.

I glanced toward Archimedes, who caught my eye and nodded slightly. Reassurance that he was keeping watch, perhaps. Or approval that I was taking time to talk with Ariana.

Striding beside Scarlet and Ariana, that familiar ache bloomed deep in my chest. The feelings I'd carried since Earth, since spotting her those many weeks ago, surged with renewed intensity, my cheeks flushing.

I opened my mouth, then hesitated, glancing at Gaia who floated nearby. A little privacy, please?

He smirked and drifted away, giving us space.

"How are you doing?" I asked, immediately wincing.

"Fine," Ariana replied, still not looking at me.

A leaden weight settled in my stomach. Wrong question. Just talk. Just be there for her! I cleared my throat. “When I had to leave you last week…” My voice caught. "I couldn't stop thinking about you. Worrying. The only thing that kept me sane was focusing on finding Shahar."

She stared straight ahead, but color had risen in her cheeks. The fact that she wouldn't meet my eyes only intensified the feelings roiling inside me.

I reached up and took her hand. Scarlet slowed as Ariana stiffened beneath my touch. Why did I just grab her hand? Where did that come from?

But there was no going back now. "You're the reason I'm who I am now," I said, the words tumbling out in a rush. "Without you in this world, I'd be lost."

She still wouldn't look at me. My insides twisted with a sharp, anxious pain. “I want you to be happy, Ariana,” I said, my voice softer now, but edged with tension. "I know healing takes time, but I can’t stop worrying about you, about the pain. I just want to take it away!”

Her shoulders trembled. Tears welled in her eyes, jaw working as she fought for control. In that moment, I wanted to tell her I was here for her, that she meant everything to me, that I…loved her.

The words hovered on my tongue as I held her hand tighter, warmth flowing between us. Her cheeks flushed deeper, and I felt heat rising in my own face as I waited for her to speak.

Her lips parted, and my heart skipped.

"So sorry to interrupt," Gaia's voice cut in, startling us both. He actually sounded genuinely apologetic. “But you might want to see this…”

I looked from him to where the group ahead, now clustered around a bend in the road. They stood huddled together, whispering urgently.

My curiosity sparked as Gaia gestured for me to follow.

Chapter 47 - Last Breath

Vireth shot through the air, his cloud slicing through the silken webs. The walls pulsed with eerie luminescence, casting everything in a sickly glow. His senses prickled.

Danger.

He dropped his cloud in a sharp dive as something whistled past—a barbed projectile.

More tingles crawled up his spine. More attacks coming.

Vireth jerked his cloud left, then right, spiraling as he dodged a deadly rain of poisoned spikes. Each near-miss sent his heart hammering, each dodge consuming precious energy.

He risked a glance back and his blood froze.

The Eldritch King pursued with terrifying grace, shooting glistening threads from his wrists with inhuman precision. Each strand struck the tunnel walls before he pulled himself forward—web, pull, web, pull—repeating the rhythm with mesmerizing speed. His face split with that terrible, knowing smile.

"Running, little traitor?" The King's rasping voice echoed through the tunnel. “How long do you think you can keep this up?.”

He swung his arm, launching another barbed volley. Vireth barrel-rolled, feeling the wind of passing spikes. Too close.

He needed to reach the Drifter radiating that unmistakable golden-green aura—Gaia’s aura. His objective. His salvation.

The twins had split up earlier, yet the Eldritch King had chosen to pursue him.

Why?

"You belong to no one now, cloud-rider!" The King's words cut deep. "No master, no Wielder—just a discarded tool with no purpose!"

The accusation struck something raw within Vireth. How did the King know he'd betrayed the Plague Lord? How did the King know anything?

Still, the truth of it stung. Vireth belonged nowhere. Not with his former master. Not with Kazro, whose kindness remained evident but distant.

A smaller tunnel branched right. Vireth veered sharply, taking the tunnel. He twisted midair, swinging out a hand and launching globules of sticky green slime. Each blob expanded rapidly, merging into an impenetrable barrier, sealing the passage.

The tunnel widened into a vast chamber. Its walls writhed with pulsing egg sacs. At its center hovered the Drifter, cloaked and masked on a cloud like Vireth's own. Dozens of spiders dangled around him, mandibles clicking hungrily.

"HOLD ON!" Vireth summoned a corona of glittering spears. With a flick of his wrist, he sent them flying. The weapons punched through chitin with sickening cracks, spiders shrieking, falling. Vireth swooped in, grabbing the Drifter by his robes and pulling him onto the cloud.

That's when he noticed what the Drifter clutched—a burlap sack woven from emerald fibers, pulsing with a golden light. Vireth's breath caught. Whatever lay inside radiated with Gaia's pure, undiluted essence.

“Hang on!” Vireth shouted, rocketing into another tunnel.

His senses stretched outward, searching for the twins or any ally in this labyrinth. But most of the auras here jumbled together, impossible to parse. Had Sveric and Nyvara been captured? Killed? Or were they—

The wall ahead exploded.

Chunks of webbing sprayed outward as the Eldritch King burst through. Before Vireth could react, the King slammed into him, smashing him against the ground. Pain exploded across his back, then concentrated into a white-hot point as something sharp pierced his chest.

"Now, you die," the King whispered, his putrid breath hot against Vireth's face, "belonging to no one."

Ice-blue light flashed, blinding them both.

A comet smashed into the Eldritch King, throwing him sideways. Ice crystals bloomed across the monster's body as he howled. The frost spread to Vireth, numbing his wound as his body began its frantic healing.

"RUN!" Sveric’s voice cut through the chaos. "GET OUT OF HERE!"

Vireth sat up, gasping, a cloud zipping toward him, that Drifter on top. “Grab on!” He reached out a hand, and Vireth caught it. With surprising ease, he yanked Vireth onto the cloud as they shot forward, leaving Sveric to hold back the screaming King.

Spiders poured from holes along the walls, scrabbling for purchase and launching themselves at the fleeing pair. Vireth seized control and weaved through them, his cloud responding to his every thought.

A new presence bloomed in Vireth's awareness—then that four-armed spider herald burst from a side passage. Vireth banked hard, barely avoiding its grasp. Up they flew, the tunnel sloping sharply upward. Light leaked from ahead—an exit!

They burst into open air and chaos. Gaian soldiers on clouds circled above, launching out attacks at flying spiders.

“We did it!” he shouted, shoving the cloud forward, away from the hold. “But keep an eye on—”

Something sharp sliced through Vireth's cloud, cleaving it in two. The world spun as he and the Drifter tumbled through the air. A blow to his back sent white-hot pain lancing through his torso before he slammed into the ground hard enough to drive the breath from his lungs.

He rolled, vision swimming. When he came to a stop, he quickly shook his head, and staggered to his feet. The Drifter stood nearby, clutching that precious sack with white-knuckled intensity. No clouds. No escape route. Only their legs could save them now.

A thunderous crash split the air.

That spider herald stood several yards away, flanked by its kin, their mandibles clicking in anticipation. Hundreds of eyes fixed on the emerald sack—the prize that could turn the tide of war.

Vireth planted his feet and summoned the last reserves of his strength as the spiders reared back.

Whatever came next, he would fight to his last breath—Kazro needed this vestment, whether or not Vireth ‘belonged’ to him. Because soon, there wouldn’t be division in this region.

Kazro was the deserved ruler of the Divided Kingdoms, and if he succeeded, everyone would belong.

With a shout, Vireth summoned his spears and launched at the enemy, hoping this wouldn’t be his last breath.

Chapter 48 - Poethius's Servant

I walked forward, the crowd parting around me like water. My heart ached in my chest, a hollow, persistent throb.

I'd been so close—so damn close to telling Ariana how I felt, to having her open up to me. That moment back there, her face illuminated by flickering light, her eyes meeting mine with something I could've sworn was longing…

Gone now. Shattered by whatever had everyone's faces twisted with shock.

I took a breath and peeked around the bend.

Then, my stomach dropped.

The canyon opened into a desolate village, abandoned and eerily still. The stone walls towered above us, jagged and imposing, their surface more orange than gray now, streaked with ribbons of crimson.

The village itself was built from what looked like stone sticks—long, smooth mineral formations arranged into crude huts. Some structures were nothing more than holes dug into the earth, their dark entrances gaping like hungry mouths.

But it was the thing at the center of the village that seized my attention.

A massive statue dominated the open space—a humanoid figure with arms and wings outstretched. Its head, though, wasn't human. A crow's sleek skull topped the stone body, complete with a long, sharp beak. Its eyes were different, though, carved from smooth obsidian that seemed to watch me.

A chill skittered up my spine.

Who the hell was that? And why build a village here? Everything looked ancient, worn by time, yet something felt…present. Alive.

Without a word, I stepped forward, into the village. The others followed, their footsteps hesitant. Wind gusted through the abandoned streets, carrying the smell of dust and…something else. A hint of sulfur, rotten eggs. And beneath it all, an aura—not dead, not quite—but something distant, something I couldn't quite grasp.

I summoned my scythe, its familiar weight comforting in my grasp as I wandered deeper into the village. Gaia floated beside me, a shimmer of golden-green in my peripheral vision.

"This is strange," he muttered, his voice unusually subdued.

"Yeah," I agreed, peering into the doorway of one of the huts.Inside was nothing but dust and a dark hole in the center of the floor. My gaze drifted back to the crow statue, pulled by some unseen force. I approached it slowly, circling the base, taking in the intricate details of the carving. The stone feathers seemed to rustle in the wind. The obsidian eyes tracked me.

“Hello, what’s this?” Gaia drifted downward, hovering near the base of the statue where words were etched into the stone.

I crouched beside him. The text was written in several languages, one of which I could understand:

In honor of Roksas, servant of Poethius, God of the Night.

Coldness spread through my stomach, a sinking weight of ice.

Was this a Wielder who'd died? Who'd failed to protect these lands?

My heart hammered against my ribs. The thought of my role—Guardian of the wilds—suddenly felt impossibly heavy. Would I end up like this Roksas, nothing but a statue in a dead land? Would I fail to stop the Blight from consuming everything I'd sworn to protect?

Or…was this a Wielder still alive, watching over these lands? Perhaps one who'd given up, abandoned his territory to the creeping death?

I set my hand on my hip, dragging in a deep breath as I looked around. Green-veined soldiers and women in healer's garb wandered the dusty streets, speaking in hushed tones. Archlords hovered above, some gazing toward the top of the canyon. The sky was darkening, shadows lengthening across the desolate landscape. Night wasn't far off, and that thought sent another tremor through me.

Ariana stepped close, and when I turned to her, she offered a soft smile that eased some of the tension from my shoulders. I pulled her in, wrapping my arm around her waist. She leaned against me but didn't return the embrace, her arms remaining at her sides. I needed to talk to her again, but later, when we could be alone, when the others were resting.

Archimedes moved beside me, his glowing eyes fixed on the statue. Kli’Taka and Scarlet hovered nearby, keeping watch.

"Gaia," I said, looking over at him. He floated up toward the crow-headed monument, a trail of golden-green mist in his wake. "Does the name Poethius ring a bell?"

The god stroked his beard thoughtfully. "There are so many gods," he said after a moment. "His name is vaguely familiar, though."

I sighed, staring up into those uncanny black eyes. “Then we don't just have the Plague Lord to worry about…”

Gaia was silent for a beat. “It appears so…”

"But this could be a monument from decades ago, centuries maybe? Back when the Blight first overtook these lands?" I offered, grasping for reassurance.

"It's possible." Gaia floated up toward the statue's face, scrutinizing it. "But I've been around a long, long time. This stone isn't badly weathered. It hasn't been here for centuries, or even many decades."

My heart rate spiked. I forced myself to breathe deeply, calling on the meditation techniques I'd learned. In. Out. Slow and steady.

This wasn't just a dead land with zombies and desolation. This place…this place perhaps belonged to a completely different Wielder, a different god.

Part of me—a significant part—wanted to turn around, to leave. If this Wielder was alive, I didn't want to face him. I had no idea how strong he might be. But even the thought of retreating made the Plague Lord's oath tighten around my soul, squeezing until it felt like my chest would collapse.

Vlindakh's whispers leaked from my Mind Core. Let me help you. Let me burn away the oath…

"No," Gaia snapped. "Absolutely not."

"But if I could break the oath now," I argued, "I could leave this place, train somewhere else, level up both the scythe and the crown before facing the Plague Lord. And now, this new Wielder—"

"And you think Vlindakh has your best interests at heart?" Gaia cut me off. "You think he'll help you out of the goodness of his black heart?"

I remembered those visions, how the dark god had tried to manipulate me with fear—fear of other Wielders, more powerful Wielders. A fear that was proving justified. This statue was tangible proof that other Wielders existed, ones I knew nothing about.

That old dread bubbled up again, tightening my throat. But something else rose to meet it—that brilliant courage I'd found last week, the confidence I'd earned. I had the power to level up, to challenge and defeat Wielders like the Plague Lord, the Eldritch King, the Frost Baroness. I could protect the Wilds—my home, my purpose.

I breathed in deeply, steadying myself. I needed to push forward. I didn't know if this Wielder was alive, didn't know how strong he might be—despite Vlindakh's ominous hints about powers beyond our region. The oath wouldn't let me turn back anyway, and I couldn't risk giving Vlindakh any influence over me.

Forward was the only option. I'd continue to grow stronger as I hunted down that massive spawning point the Plague Lord commanded me to destroy.

A sudden twang cut through the silence.

I spun, facing the noise. A figure sat on a flat stone, not far away. He wore a pointed hat, a silken outer robe, and peaked shoes. Gnarled fingers plucked the strings of what looked like a long, stretched-out banjo—flat, elegant, and ancient, like something a monk would play before ascending into the clouds.

But it was his eyes that got me—deep and glistening, like the night sky itself.

“You gonna keep staring?” he asked, words slurred. “Or you gonna actually give me what I asked for.” He held out a hand.

I gawked, because I recognized those eyes—those distinct, Asian features. The nutcase from the village, back in the Wilds.

“Well?”

Gaia floated beside me, arms crossed, brows creased. He gave me a knowing glance. He recognized him, too.

“WELL?” the old man yelled, and I flinched. “You gonna give me a rock or what?” He flickered like a hologram, giving me pause. This was the third time I’d seen this guy—the third!

“Who the hell are you?” Gaia asked.

“Shh,” he said. “I don’t speak with gods.”

Gaia gaped.

“But seriously,” I asked, blinking, feeling a bit stunned. “Who are you?”

The old man smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “An Offworlder, much like yourself.”

I flinched. Wait… Wait, WHAT? That was totally unexpected.

“Offworlder? How do you know I’m an Offworlder?” Gaia was the only other one to call me out on that.

The old man said something else, but his words crackled. He grimaced, then spoke again, static lacing his words. “Can’t speak—” CRACKLE “—longer. Connection—” CRACKLE “—severing. Come to the Tidesong Isles, after you—” CRACKLE “—through here. You’ll find me on the island of—” POP.

He vanished, just like that.

[Side Quest: The Mysterious Old Man]

[Who is this guy? The last two times, he seemed totally out of it. But now? He revealed his origins, and asked for you to come to the Tidesong Isles.]

[Objective: Go to the Tidesong Isles in search of the old man]

[Reward: ???]

What… What the hell?

My thoughts exactly, Gaia said.

“Kazro?” Ariana said, resting a hand on my shoulder. “What are you staring at?”

I blinked, spinning to face her. “Didn’t you see him?”

She blinked. “See who?”

Before I could respond, a screech split the air.

I spun around to see a pale hand—skeletal, with skin stretched tight over bone—reaching from one of the holes and grabbing Kli’Taka’s arm. I reacted on pure instinct, zipping across the distance and slashing with my scythe in one fluid motion. The hand separated from its arm with a wet sound, and I slid to a halt in a spray of dust.

Kli’Taka staggered backward, her arm pale where it had been touched. Ariana grabbed her, pulling her further from the hole as an unnatural silence fell over the village.

I stood my ground, scythe extended, heart pounding, as something began to emerge from the darkness. An ashen white face rose, its eyes like two bottomless pits, skin pulled taut over a skull-like head. One arm slammed against the stone edge of the hole, fingers digging in. The severed stump of the other arm appeared next, moving as if the hand were still attached.

It growled, a sound like stone grinding against stone, as it pulled itself upward. Bigger than the Voidlings we'd faced before. More wrong, somehow. More hungry.

I tightened my grip on my scythe and braced myself as the thing continued to rise from the depths.

Chapter 49 - Into the Darkness

Carson thrashed in darkness, his brother's laughter echoing through his mind—cruel and mocking. He flailed against the nothingness, desperate to escape the memories, the humiliation.

Color bled into the void—muted at first, then brighter. He blinked, panting, as the ceiling above sharpened into focus. Stalactites hung low, their stone a vibrant tapestry of orange and red. But there was something else…

Carson squinted. Pulsing things moved through the rock—some beneath the surface, others bulging outward, spreading like branches across the ceiling and down walls. Vines? Roots? His foggy mind couldn't decide.

The air was muggy, thick with moisture. Each breath carried a rancid taste—sulfur and rot, like eggs left in the sun too long. He wrinkled his nose, trying to swallow back the bile that rose in his throat.

He shifted, pain flaring in every joint, every muscle, but he managed to move slightly. That's when he realized he was floating in water—luminescent, blue water that cast an ethereal glow across his skin. He stared, wide-eyed, mind struggling to process what he was seeing.

A sudden hiss made him flinch. Carson's gaze darted toward the sound, and he realized he was in a small chamber that opened into a vast cavern beyond. He lifted his head slightly, ears popping as a wash of noise hit him—the low, constant chatter of many voices.

His jaw slackened at what he saw.

Dozens of vibrant blue pools dotted the cavern floor. Geysers shot water skyward at irregular intervals, filling the air with mist. But it was the people that stole his breath.

They lounged beside the pools, their skin a gradient of orange and red, their hair flowing like liquid—not hair at all, but streams of vibrant blue that defied gravity. Their eyes…their eyes were deep blue pools, fathomless and ancient. Some wore stiff leather garments; others draped themselves in loose, comfortable fabrics. They milled about, talking, laughing, completely unaware of his shocked stare.

Carson couldn't tear his gaze away. What were these people? And where the hell was he?

His attention drifted to the distant walls, where thick vines pulsed with blue light. But no… Were they vines? They grew larger as they ascended, converging toward the ceiling and—

His entire body seized with shock.

A massive, pulsing heart hung from the center of the vast cavern roof. Blue light glowed from within its chambers, each slow beat sending waves of illumination through the sprawling network of veins—not vines. It glistened wetly, organic and alive.

Carson's stomach turned, bile rising up his throat once more. He wasn't looking at architecture; he was staring at anatomy.

A crackling sound filled his head—like distant static. He frowned. The goddess…Krypkryla. She was trying to communicate, but her voice was muffled, distant. And his thoughts, despite the splitting headache, felt oddly clear.

The static intensified, then abruptly cut off.

Movement caught his eye. In the corner of his small chamber, a black, gooey blob slid across the stone floor. Oddly, swirls of orange and blue spiraled through its mass. His heart skipped as panic made his insides spike. The thing oozed toward his pool, expanding upward into a slender figure with a beaked face and slimy wings that unfurled from its back.

Then the slime hardened. Real-looking feathers materialized—a striking blend of blue, black, and orange. The creature's clothing remained slimy, with the same swirling colors. Its eyes glowed an intense blue.

Carson flinched, leaning away. The bird-person held up a hand—no, not a hand, but something between talons and fingers.

"Don't move," it said, its voice surprisingly melodic. "It'll only ruin your spirit further."

The creature waved its hand back and forth. The water around Carson rippled and swayed in response. As the bird-person raised both hands, thick, syrupy tendrils rose from the pool—viscous and shimmering with inner light.

"Life essence," the bird-man explained. "You need to swallow it, now that you’re awake. There was only so much we could do with you unconscious." He gestured to the floating tendrils. "You need to cycle this if you're ever going to move again."

Carson stared, jaw unhinged, gaze ping-ponging between the gooey tendrils and the bird-man's glowing eyes.

The creature sighed. "You must be confused. Understandable. Not many have the honor of bathing in the sacred pools." He straightened, his tone becoming more formal. "Father has a special role for you, young Spriggan. Answers will come. But for now, open up. We don't want you to keep him waiting more than he already has." There was an edge to the bird-man's voice—annoyance, perhaps, or fear of reprimand.

Carson gaped his mouth wider, too stunned to resist as the creature made fluid motions with its arms. The gooey water obeyed, flowing into Carson's mouth. He gagged as the thick substance forced its way down his throat and into his belly. Despite the initial revulsion, a warmth spread through him, a glow that seemed to illuminate him from within.

"Good," the bird-man said, his tone softening. "Now, you must cycle it. Feel the life essence in your core?"

Carson nodded weakly, still processing the alien sensation.

"Breathe in deep and direct it through your channels—the paths of spirit that run through your body. Like veins, but for energy."

"I don't—"

"Silence. Focus. Breathe in and imagine the essence flowing from your core, up your spine, to your mind, then down through your limbs. A circuit."

Carson tried to concentrate. He inhaled deeply, focusing on the strange warmth in his belly. With his exhale, he pushed it mentally—up, through his chest, into his head, then cascading down his arms and legs.

The effect was immediate. Pain lanced through his veins, as if molten metal surged through them. He screamed, back arching.

"Keep going," the bird-man urged. "Your spirit is knitting itself back together."

Through clenched teeth, Carson continued cycling the essence, each breath sending fresh waves of agony through his head, limbs, and torso. But beneath the pain, something else was happening. A rebuilding, a renewal.

<Status Update>

[Carson]

Level: 47 -> 59

Race: Spriggan

Class: Erratic

Subclass: N/A

HP: 378/380 (+150)

MP: 290/290 (+110)

Stamina: 210/210 (+70)

Attack: 185 (+65)

Defense: 155 (+45)

[Spirit Mending: 79% Complete]

NEW ABILITIES UNLOCKED:

• Black Merge - Meld with darkness for 8 seconds, becoming intangible to physical attacks

• Death's Whisper - Channel necrotic energy through your words, inflicting fear and confusion on targets

• Blood Boil - Superheat an enemy's blood, causing internal damage over time

The burning sensation gradually subsided. Carson lay in the pool, panting, his body humming with newfound energy.

"Get up," the bird-man said, gesturing impatiently. "Father is waiting for you. We've kept him long enough."

Carson swam to the edge of the pool, finding the liquid strangely viscous—more like syrup than water. He pulled himself out, standing on shaky legs. His spirit was still mending, the sensation like ants crawling beneath his skin. He staggered sideways, catching himself against the moist wall.

The bird-man glided ahead, his gooey robe leaving a snail-like trail behind him. Carson shivered but pushed himself off the wall, not wanting to anger whoever this "Father" might be. He staggered after his guide, legs growing steadier with each step.

They hurried along the periphery of the vast chamber. The blue-eyed people turned to watch him pass, their gazes curious, assessing. Carson felt like a specimen under glass.

He glanced upward and froze. Eggs clung to the pulsing veins overhead. Not just eggs—transparent sacs containing developing embryos. Some twitched and moved, tiny limbs pressing against their membranous prisons.

Revulsion crawled up his throat, but there was fascination too—a strange, morbid curiosity he couldn't deny.

Inside his mind, the goddess still crackled—her voice distant but growing in intensity, as if struggling against interference. Oddly, Carson found himself grateful at…well, whatever had happened to her. Her fury at his attack on Kazro had been overwhelming, her disappointment cutting deeper than he'd expected.

With this newfound mental clarity came recognition of his own idiocy. Attacking Kazro had been rash, driven by wild emotion rather than strategy. And the Plague Lord's oath? That had been the real trap.

A trap, that was gone.

An oath, that no longer even existed.

As he staggered after the bird guy, Kazro came to mind, and images of his brothers flashed—their cruel smiles, their fists, their mockery. Heat bubbled in his veins, rage rising, familiar and hot in his chest. But now, with the spiritual essence flowing through his channels, his mind felt more focused. Not bouncing in a million directions, but honed to a single, sharp point.

The bird-man led him up slick stairs, surrounded by pulsing veins. The walls glistened with moisture. A breeze blew past—in, then out, in a rhythmic pattern that reminded Carson of…breathing.

His skin prickled with goosebumps. That heart, these veins, this breathing… Were they inside some gigantic creature?

They traversed several halls, each more organic than the last, until they reached a vast open area dominated by a massive door. Except it wasn't a door—not really. It resembled muscle tissue, shifting and contracting like a living thing.

As they approached, several eyes split open in the wall, swiveling to fix on Carson. Cold fear washed through him, freezing him in place.

"Enter," rumbled a voice that seemed to come from everywhere at once. "We've been waiting."

The double door—if it could be called that—split apart like a mouth opening. Rows of teeth gleamed along its edges. Hot, moist air gusted out, carrying the scent of copper and rot. It hit Carson full in the face, nearly gagging him.

The bird-man gently guided him forward, toward the steaming maw, and Carson had no choice but to follow him into the darkness.

Chapter 50 - Light for the World

I pressed my back against Archimedes, the rest of the team forming a tight circle around us. Voidlings rose from holes throughout the village like nightmares made flesh, their hollow sockets fixed on us.

I gripped my scythe with one hand, and with the other, I summoned my Transcendent Shield. My cloak billowed in the dusty air, catching the dying light.

Some of the Voidlings were different from those we'd encountered in the chasms—larger, more feral. The normal ones hung back, their gaunt faces contorted in what almost looked like…fear? Could that be right? Despite their black, empty eyes and ashen skin, something about their expressions still struck me as achingly human.

One of the larger ones lunged, its elongated limbs reaching for me with skeletal fingers. I reacted on instinct, driving forward with my scythe in a wide arc. The blade cleaved through its midsection with a sound like fabric tearing. Black mist erupted from the wound as the creature split in two, both halves crumbling to the ground.

Several of the smaller void creatures shrieked—a sound between a wail and a gasp—before scattering away from me. But the larger ones surged forward, undeterred.

I pivoted, ducking under slashing claws before bringing my scythe around in a tight circle. Another creature fell, its body dissolving into that same black fog. Behind me, I heard the distinctive whoosh of Archimedes' staff, the crackle of his magic scorching through more of the attackers, their shrieks filling the air.

Glimpses of my companions flashed between strikes—Ariana's graceful movements, Scarlet's snapping jaws. Heralds and soldiers fought alongside them, their weapons flashing in the fading light.

My gaze caught on Kli’Taka at the circle's center. Ariana stood over her, one hand weaving patterns over Kli’Taka’s arm, which was a sickening white. My heart lurched with panic. Just a momentary contact, and a Voidling had nearly drained the life from her. What would happen if one of them got a solid hold on any of us?

The thought sent fresh fire through my veins. I channeled it into my next strike, cutting down three more creatures with a single sweep.

"Crescent Strike!" I called, drawing on Gaia's power, but in that moment, something peculiar happened. A force—like an invisible arrow—shot through my scythe. Black, tar-like substance oozed from the blade for a split second before evaporating.

[Night Binding]

[Crescent Strike - BOUND]

What the—? The binding took effect just as I released the attack. The crescent wave emerged weaker, distorted. A large void creature saw my momentary confusion and slammed a shoulder into me, its strength shocking. I hit the ground hard, the breath knocked from my lungs as the monster loomed over me.

A spear streaked and embedded itself in the creature's skull. It collapsed without a groan, dissolving into mist.

I scrambled to my feet, staring at my scythe where the binding notification still glowed. Another void creature charged. Without thinking, I spun and thrust out my dark hand, calling on one of Vlindakh's techniques.

[Essence Devourer]

Again, that strange force struck, attempting to bind my attack.

[Binding…]

[INEFFECTIVE]

[Immunity to the Night in effect]

Dark energy surged unimpeded through my arm. When I slammed my hand into the creature, its essence poured into me, the large Voidling withering away to nothing. The power of it—cold and exhilarating—sent shivers across my skin.

I jerked my head up, searching for the source of the binding attacks. High above, at the canyon's rim, a shadowy figure stood watching. Our eyes met for a heartbeat before they vanished, melting away into the deepening twilight.

The fight raged on. My burnout gauge climbed, MP and stamina depleting steadily, though not dangerously. Eventually, the tide began to turn—we'd killed most of the larger creatures, and the normal-sized ones were retreating, scuttling back toward their holes with panicked movements.

One of them, a woman with wispy shadow-hair trailing behind her, fled toward the village's edge. A herald tackled her, pinning her to the ground. She shrieked, her voice unexpectedly clear. "Please! Mercy! I beg you!"

I froze, stunned that I understood her. "STOP!" I shouted, pushing past people. "Don't hurt her!"

The herald flinched, looking toward me with confusion but obeying. I reached them, scythe still gripped tightly, in case this was a trick. The woman trembled beneath the herald's grasp, black tears leaking from her pit-like eyes.

"What's going on here?" I demanded, my voice harsher than intended. "Why did you attack us?"

She wept harder, her thin shoulders shaking. “F-Forced,” she gasped. "Some of us can't take the pain, but I've learned to live with it. The hunger…it never stops. The emptiness inside…” She rambled, her words tumbling over each other in her desperation to explain.

"What are you talking about?" I frowned, trying to make sense of her babbling.

She opened her mouth to continue, but her gaze suddenly shifted past me, focusing on something high above. I turned, following her line of sight back to the canyon rim.

Two figures stood there now, distant silhouettes against the darkening sky. As I stared, they stepped back from the edge, disappearing from view.

"Please, take me with you!" The woman's voice rose to a desperate pitch. "Don't leave me here! I'll tell you anything you want to know—just please don't let them get me!"

Pity welled up deep inside, powerful and unexpected. My instincts had been right—these creatures were human, or had been once. But what did she mean about constant pain? Were they always suffering, then? My eyes drifted to Kli’Taka’s pale arm, and understanding clicked into place. Perhaps draining life from others temporarily relieved their suffering.

I glanced back to where the shadowy figures had been. But why would their own kind force them to attack us? It made no sense.

Looking down at the trembling woman, I couldn't help but see familiar faces reflected in her terror—my mother, beaten and broken; my sister, eyes wide with fear; Ariana, determination masking vulnerability. The need to protect this woman—to protect my friends and all innocent lives—surged through my soul with hot, unexpected ferocity.

And then, it hit me. Like a thunderclap, like the ground shifting beneath my feet.

Archimedes had been right. Every word he'd spoken about my purpose, every argument I'd pushed away, resisted, denied—it crashed through the barriers I'd built in my mind. I couldn't deny the ache I felt for this forgotten soul—just as I had for the slaves in the Plague Lord's territory.

Abused. All of them are abused.

The realization slammed into me with a physical force that sent me staggering. My heart hammered against my ribs as something fundamental changed inside me—like a seed that had been dormant suddenly cracking open, roots spreading through my chest, tendrils wrapping around my heart. This wasn't just about protecting a small corner of the world anymore. This wasn't just about the Wilds or Gaian City.

I needed to stop this kind of cruelty—not just here, not just for her, but everywhere. The hunger to annihilate the cycle of abuse burned through me, cramping my insides with its intensity. I wanted to scorch away the corruption that infected this entire region, to stand between the broken and those who broke them.

For the first time, I truly understood what it meant to be a Wielder. Not just a defender of territory, but a shield for those who couldn't fight back. A sword against those who preyed on the weak. A light in a world drowning in shadow.

“Take me with you,” the woman whimpered.

"We'll take you," I told her, my voice rough with emotion. "But as much as I want to trust you, I can't. Not completely. We'll have to bind you, but we'll protect you."

Relief washed over her face, and she wept harder, nodding frantically.

Nearby, the bisected bodies of the void creatures writhed and twitched—a grotesque sight that turned my stomach.

"We never truly die," the woman whispered as the herald pulled her to her feet, binding her wrists with enchanted cord.

My anger flared hotter. Forced to fight against their will, forced to endure a half-life of constant pain—it was more than I could bear. I looked back toward the canyon rim where those figures had stood.

Abusers. Men, using their power to control instead of protect.

Without warning, I launched myself at the canyon wall, kicking off stone outcroppings to propel myself higher. I reached the top in seconds, landing on flat ground that stretched out in all directions. More chasms scored the landscape, and black vines poked through the soil. The air was even thinner here, harder to breathe.

I scanned the area for the shadowy figures but saw no one—only more desolation. The black vines suddenly stirred, whipping toward me with surprising speed. I summoned my force field shield just in time. They slammed against the emerald barrier, unable to penetrate.

Turning, I gazed in the direction we were headed. Far in the distance, a hazy orange-red glow colored the horizon. And there, barely visible against the darkening sky, a tower speared upward from the blighted landscape.

“That’s it,” Gaia whispered. “That’s our destination.”

My heart skipped. “How do you know?”

He shrugged. “Intuition. You learn to trust it after centuries of living.”

Good. We were getting closer, then. And I was growing in power, too. But the memory of the crow-statue lingered in my mind, seeding doubt. What if that Wielder was there? If he was anything like the Plague Lord or the other monarchs, I didn’t want to meet him. But did I have any choice?

I leapt back down, landing with a crack of stone, and rejoined the others. I explained what I'd seen and insisted we keep moving, despite nightfall approaching. Everyone agreed, eager to leave this haunted village behind.

As we continued along the chasm, I watched the void people crawl back into their holes—including those still "alive" despite mortal wounds. Part of me wanted to heal them with Verdant Beacon, but what good would that do? Their tormentors would only use them again.

We walked in silence for a time. Kli’Taka rode on Scarlet's back, her arm still pale but wrapped with glowing vines, steadily regaining color. I glanced at my fox companion, amazed at her transformation thus far. Golden-green light shimmered through her coat, and tiny plants sprouted along her spine, blooming and wilting in a continuous cycle. When she shook herself, emerald sparkles drifted from her fur.

[Scarlet]

[Herald Transformation: 60% Complete]

Archimedes fell into step beside me, his staff tapping rhythmically against the stone. He frowned, concentrating. Was he talking with Pip?

“Any update on Vireth?” I asked, eager for news. The thought of recovering another vestment sent a thrill up my spine.

“He’s in the Eldritch King’s domain,” he replied. “No news from him, as of yet. But the Frost Baroness entered into an oath with the Sundust Sage's. She's sworn not to harm you, and in return, she'll receive help finding her own vestments."

I nodded, processing this unexpected alliance. It didn’t seem safe, though. Couldn’t she just break the oath once she boosted her power?

My mind drifted to the XP I'd gained from the battle. Despite a twinge of guilt—these had been people, after all—I knew I needed every advantage I could get.

[XP: +5,250]

I channeled the experience into my scythe, watching the levels tick upward…

[Ceremonial Scythe]

Level 4

XP: 21,115/25,000 + 5,250 = 26,365

[Ceremonial Scythe]

[Level 4 → Level 5]

[TRANSCEND?]

"Yes," I whispered, raising the weapon high.

Light exploded from the blade, so bright it left afterimages dancing across my vision. The scythe transformed in my hand, growing larger, more intricate. The blade hummed, glowing like a sliver of captured sunlight.

[Ceremonial Scythe]

TRANSCENDED]

[Level 5 → Transcendent Scythe]

[New Abilities Unlocked:]

• Divine Reaping - Strike entire groups of enemies with celestial energy that bypasses armor and shields

• Veil of Eternity - Create a zone where allies become immune to status effects and movement impairments

• Final Judgment - Channel all burnout into a single, devastating strike that deals true damage equal to (Attack x 5) + (Burnout % x 3)

• Harvest God's Domain - Transform a 100-foot radius into a realm of your control, where plants grow instantly and enemies are slowed by 50%

• World Tree Connection - While in contact with plant life, regenerate 5% HP and MP per second and gain 30% damage reduction

[All previous abilities upgraded to Transcendent versions]

Everyone slowed, staring in awe at the transformed weapon in my hands. Gaia materialized beside me, his form more substantial than I'd ever seen it, face split in a triumphant grin.

Warm confidence surged up my soul, bolstered by the void woman's plea and my newfound resolve. This journey—this quest—had begun as a burden, an unwanted obligation. But now…

Now, I embraced it fully.

If I turned back, I would be abandoning souls like her, victims of abuse and cruelty. I'd be no better than those shadowy figures at the canyon's edge, watching suffering and doing nothing to stop it.

I did worry about the tower, though—the spawning point. What if it was home to the Voidlings? What would destroying it do to them? I didn’t know enough, so I'd cross that bridge when I reached it.

For now, my purpose had crystallized, expanding beyond protecting just Gaian City and the Whisper Wilds. I would shield every kingdom in this region, every person under threat—especially the forgotten, the abused, the lost and the lonely.

Because once, long ago, I’d been that. And I would die before I let anyone suffer as I had. No man, woman, or child deserved that, and I would make certain of it.

And that all started here, in the Blight, with the tower. With getting to the bottom of its secrets, and putting an end to those on top.

Chapter 51 - Deadly Waltz

Brilliant light flashed, a fist slamming into Vireth’s face.

He flew back, hitting the ground, rolling. Scrambling to his feet, he snapped his jaw back into place.

“Go!” The Drifter with the mask shouted. “Run!” He chucked that emerald, burlap sack toward Vireth before spinning, exploding with sparkling mist, pushing back the herald and distracting the spiders.

Vireth caught the sack, spun and sprinted away. He clutched it close to his chest, its warmth pulsing against his fingers like a heartbeat, an ache rising within his chest.

No heralds or soldiers on clouds were in sight. No aerial escape route presented itself. He didn't have the luxury of time to flag down help, either—not with what he carried. With the vestment snug against his ribs, he ran as he never ran before, past trees and under branches, his lungs burning with each desperate breath.

Then the forest…ended.

Vireth skidded to a halt at a dead border—a perfect line where life simply ceased. Before him stretched a graveyard of trees, not fallen but standing like petrified sentinels. Their bark had turned the color of ash, leaves crumbled to dust, branches brittle as ancient bones. The soil itself seemed drained of vitality, transformed into something between ash and stone.

The Blight. Seeing it up-close made his stomach clench.

Whispering drifted through the dead air. Vireth ducked behind the last living tree, peering around its trunk toward the source of the sound.

His blood froze.

Several Voidlings limped through the dead zone, their eyes like bottomless pits, shadowy hair trailing behind them like ink in water. Their clothing wasn't fabric at all, but thick shadow swirling around their gaunt frames. They moved with jerky, inhuman steps..

One approached a still-living tree at the border. It leaned forward, sinking teeth—if they could be called teeth—into the bark. The plant's color drained away, green fading to gray as the creature sucked the very life from it. Others knelt on patches of grass, mouths pressed to the earth, leaving stone in their wake.

Vireth's eyes widened. He clutched the vestment tighter, trying to control his panicked breathing. For the first time, he wondered—really wondered—why they did this. Why consume the essence of the land itself? Was it simple destructive hunger, or something else?

He'd always dismissed them as mindless monsters bent on devastation. But watching them feed with such desperate intensity…

More, aching pain surged through his chest, memories crashing in like waves, the cries of his brother echoing. The screams of his village. The sight of his people cut down, their life drained away just like these trees. These creatures had taken everything from him—his home, his family, his innocence.

Hot, boiling anger rose in his chest, hatred rolling through him like magma. His spear materialized in his hand, a hungry vengeance overwhelming him. He wanted to ram the weapon through each one of them, to make them pay for his brother's death, for his people's suffering.

As he tensed to spring from hiding, something smashed into him from the side. The impact sent him flying, his body crashing into a tree before hitting the ground in a dazed heap. The vestment tumbled from his grip, rolling inches from his outstretched fingers.

Blinking stars from his vision, head aching, Vireth looked toward his attacker. The spider herald scuttled toward him, four arms spread wide, four spider legs propelling it forward with unnatural speed. Sticky webbing clung to Vireth's back, expanding and hardening rapidly.

He activated a technique—acid erupted from his pores, burning away the webbing in a hiss of caustic steam, melting away some of his own flesh. The pain was worth the freedom.

Nearby, several void-eyed people screamed at the sight of their fight, scattering in terror. Others growled, stepping forward with hands curled into claws. The division among them struck Vireth, breaking through his hatred for a moment. Some were fleeing, hiding. Afraid?

But there was no time to process this. The spider herald launched at him, legs propelling it through the air. Vireth weaved aside, slashing out with his spear in a perfect arc. The herald twisted mid-leap, its body contorting impossibly to avoid the strike. Landing, it launched at him again, slashing out with one of its insect legs.

They danced a deadly waltz along the border between life and death—Vireth's spear flashing in increasingly complex patterns, the herald matching him move for move. Each time the herald's claws grazed him, they left burning welts. Each time Vireth's spear connected, it carved shallow furrows in the monster's carapace.

Then, the unthinkable happened.

Several Voidlings lunged at the herald, spraying black slime from their mouths. The viscous fluid splattered across the herald's chest and arms, hardening instantly. The spider-like man shrieked in rage, thrashing against its sudden restraints.

Vireth stared, momentarily paralyzed by shock. The void creatures were…helping him?

The vestment. Where is the vestment! He turned, and found it several feet away. Without hesitation, he dove for it, fingers closing around the emerald fabric. Freedom within his grasp, he turned to flee—only for a jet of black ink to strike his leg, anchoring him to the ground. The substance spread rapidly, climbing up his calf, hardening like tar.

"No!" he shouted, desperation clawing at his throat. Damnation, of course they weren’t helping! These were mindless demons, not allies.

The Drifter appeared beside him, materializing from nowhere. He summoned a sparkling shield of energy just as more black slime jetted toward them. It splattered against the barrier, unable to penetrate but steadily building up, layer by layer.

They were trapped—Vireth immobilized by the tar-like substance, the Drifter's shield slowly being engulfed by the relentless barrage. The black ooze crept upward, enveloping them in an ever-tightening cocoon.

Through a rapidly shrinking gap in the slime, Vireth caught one last glimpse of the Voidlings. Some still fought the herald. Others turned toward him, their pit-like eyes impossible to read, though he could almost see…pity?

The last sliver of light vanished as the cocoon sealed shut, plunging them into absolute darkness.

Chapter 52 - A Voice in the Deep

Carson stepped over a bulging vein that pulsed with blue light. It was nearly impossible not to step on one—they covered the floor like a nightmarish web, throbbing with unnatural rhythm. He managed to pick his way forward, but everything inside him felt cold, frozen with a terror he couldn't name.

The veins cast an eerie azure glow throughout the chamber, illuminating a vast pool near the back, and a tunnel that stretched into darkness beyond. The tunnel…breathed. It expanded, sucking in air with a wet, organic sound that rustled Carson's leafy hair and clothing. Then it constricted, expelling hot, fetid breath that washed over him, carrying the tang of copper and rot.

His heart hammered so hard he feared it might crack his ribs. Sweat trickled down his neck despite the chill settling in his marrow. Nothing made sense—not this place, not these people, not the horrific architecture of living tissue surrounding him.

The bird-man followed several paces behind, his feathered head tilted in silent observation. When Carson hesitated, the creature merely gestured forward with one taloned hand, urging him onward.

Carson nodded quickly, his movements jerky as he continued picking his way between the veins. His foot sank into something warm and viscous—thicker than water, with a slick, mucus consistency. Saliva? Bile rose in his throat, but he swallowed it back, forcing himself to keep moving toward the pool.

What was he supposed to do when he reached it? Jump in? Enter that…breathing tunnel? The prospect sent fresh waves of nausea through him.

"I HAVE WATCHED YOUR DREAMS, OFFWORLDER." The voice boomed from the tunnel—a sound so powerful it seemed to shake the chamber itself.

Carson stumbled back, the voice resonating in his chest. His eyes widened as he stood there, crouched and trembling, unable to form words.

"YOU SUFFER, AND YOU WANT OTHERS TO SUFFER AS WELL."

Carson found himself nodding, the simple truth of it undeniable. The familiar crackling sensation lingered in the back of his mind—the goddess, still there but somehow muffled, as if speaking through layers of thick cloth. He continued cycling that life essence through his channels as the bird-man had taught him, up his spine, through his mind, down his limbs.

His spirit mended with each cycle, strengthening, knitting itself back together. His mind felt clearer than it had in… Well, had it ever been this clear? The constant chaos of his thoughts settled into something almost resembling order, but he couldn’t stop shaking, sweating.

"MY CHILDREN TELL ME A FOREIGN WIELDER HAS ENTERED THESE LANDS," the voice continued, each word a physical force against Carson's skin. "AND I DO NOT MEAN YOU. THEY SAY HIS TRAJECTORY BRINGS HIM CLOSER AND CLOSER TO MY DOMAIN, STEP BY STEP, DAY BY DAY."

The tunnel inhaled, the sound like mountains groaning.

"THEY ALSO TOLD ME ABOUT YOU. A WIELDER STRIKING OUT AGAINST ONE FAR STRONGER. I DID NOT UNDERSTAND…UNTIL YOUR NIGHTMARES DIFFUSED INTO MY CONSCIOUSNESS."

Carson trembled, hardly daring to breathe.

"IF THEY HAD NOT, I MIGHT HAVE KILLED YOU. BUT YOU ARE FAR TOO VALUABLE NOW. I WILL GRANT YOU A PORTION OF MY POWER, BUT IN RETURN, YOU WILL BREAK THAT WIELDER AND BRING HIM TO ME. I THINK WE BOTH BENEFIT FROM THIS ARRANGEMENT."

The clarity in Carson's mind allowed him to analyze the proposal with surprising detachment. Break Kazro? Surprisingly, a part of him recoiled—an image flashing unbidden through his thoughts: Kazro's face when Carson attacked him, that light in his eyes, that look of…what was it?

But then the crackling in his mind intensified, dredging up memories carved into his psyche—his brothers, their cruel laughter, their fists, their torture. The overwhelming hunger to escape those memories, to get revenge, to purge them from his mind. And suddenly, Kazro's face blurred, melding with his brothers', becoming them.

The logic fell into place with terrifying simplicity: killing Kazro was the only way to silence the memories—to rid himself of this pain.

Carson sank to his knees, trembling. Head bowed, warm tears streaming down his face. "I'll do whatever you ask," he whispered, voice cracking. "Anything."

A pleased hum emanated from the tunnel, almost paternal in its tone. "IF YOU DO THIS, I PROMISE TO RELIEVE YOUR PAIN."

Hope bloomed in Carson's chest—desperate, hungry hope. To be free of the agony that had defined his existence for so long…he would do anything.

The voice hummed again, clearly satisfied. Veins stretched out from the pool, others ripping from the ground around him. They struck like serpents, stabbing into his arms, his legs, his chest, his neck—everywhere. But Carson barely registered it.

Then, glowing blue light surged through the veins and shot into his body. Fire replaced blood, burning through him with agonizing intensity. His back arched, his head thrown back, mouth stretched wide in a scream that seemed to tear his throat apart.

The essence filled him, transformed him, unmade him. The world disappeared in a wash of blue fire, and Carson knew nothing but more pain, and the promise of relief to come.

Chapter 53 - Vestments of Plague

Eyes closed, the Plague Lord took in a deep breath, absorbing the fetid aura of the swamp, feeling it seep into his being. The scent of decay, of stagnant water and rotting vegetation, was as sweet to him as any spring blossom.

A mystical screen shimmered into existence before him. Spectral numbers and symbols drifted across its surface, shifting and reforming like smoke. He focused on the metrics of his vestments, watching points flow into his newest acquisition: the pendant.

[VESTMENTS OF PLAGUE]

• Zsithis’s Pendant: Level 1 [73% → 79%]

• Boots of the Blight Path: Level 3

• Gloves of Writhing Roots: Level 2

• Cloak of Miasma: Level 4

[Corrupted Essence Absorption: 11,487/15,000]

His fingers twitched. So close, yet still so far from bringing the pendant to its next level. Power called to power, and the pendant hungered for more, just as he did.

And he needed to be stronger. Needed more power…

A cold sliver wormed its way into his thoughts—a fear of the Blight spreading from the south. Reports of its advance troubled him more than he cared to admit. Even his own corrupted lands couldn't survive the true death that the Blight brought. And then there was the Frost Baroness, moving in ways he hadn't anticipated.

He sensed her now, far to the north but no longer in her frozen domain. His spies confirmed she’d just departed Gaian City, though her motives remained unclear. Why would she leave her territory when it faced threats from both the Blight and that mysterious new Wielder wreaking havoc in her mountains? The heralds and archlords she'd left behind were struggling to contain the situation.

But that wasn’t the only person he was focused on. Vireth, the traitor, was on the move. His most recent intelligence placed the cloud-rider in the Eldritch King's domain. Another puzzle piece that refused to fit.

Lazarus… His goddess, Zsithis, whispered in his mind, her voice like the buzzing of a thousand flies. You've been stationary too long. Movement breeds strength.

"I know," he murmured, his voice soft beneath the mask. "But which direction do I take?"

The Frost Baroness's unexpected movements demanded investigation. Yet something about Vireth’s location gnawed at him. Why go to the Eldritch King?

"My lord."

The Plague Lord's eyes snapped open. Before him stood one of his messengers, a gaunt man with boils erupting across exposed skin. The man trembled, whether from fear or the effects of the diseases that ravaged his body was unclear.

From his elevated position, the Plague Lord surveyed the vast expanse of Gloomswallow. The swamp stretched for miles in every direction, a patchwork of murky pools and twisted vegetation. Mist clung to the surface, thick and yellow-green, concealing the myriad horrors that lurked beneath. The sky above hung low and heavy with poisonous clouds—his doing, a testament to his power.

“My…lord?”

"Speak," he commanded, his attention returning to the messenger.

"The spies tracking the traitor Vireth report he's been captured, and in possession of an artifact of immense power. Something that radiates a potent energy, contained within an emerald sack."

The Plague Lord's straightened. He hadn't tuned into that location for some time, too preoccupied with other concerns. Now, he extended his senses, searching for the signature the messenger described…

There.

Distant, but unmistakable. But what was—

His eyes went wide.

Gaia’s vestment. That was one of Gaia's vestments. In Vireth’s possession!

Fear, cold and sharp, lanced through him. Was Vireth helping the Baroness now? Was he trying to bring every divine vestment to her? But how in damnation did they know it was there, in the King’s domain!

A cold shiver ran up his spine. If she knew where Gaia’s vestments were, then that meant…

She knew where hers were.

"Summon the archlords. Immediately."

The messenger bowed and scurried away. Within minutes, five archlords materialized before him, their corrupted bodies hovering.

"I am leaving," the Plague Lord announced, his voice tight. "I must confront the Baroness. You are to watch over this territory and protect it at all costs. If things go awry, I will return with haste."

The archlords bowed in unison, accepting their task without question.

The Plague Lord rolled his shoulders, feeling the weight of his cloak shift against his back. Beneath his beaked mask, his breath came hot and fast, fogging the interior. He turned to face the north, toward where he sensed the Baroness moving with purpose across the land.

This could not stand. He would not allow her to upset the delicate balance of power he'd worked so meticulously to create.

With a single, powerful leap, he launched himself from his throne, soaring through poisonous air. His form streaked across the sky like a comet of sickly green light, racing toward an inevitable confrontation.

Chapter 54 - Sunlight Through Ice

I was on edge all night, watching the holes in the canyon walls, studying every shadow behind every rock. My nerves remained taut as bowstrings, muscles tensed for an attack that never came.

As the hours wore on, I found myself relaxing, if only slightly. Our entire group traveled in relative silence—soldiers and heralds keeping formation, archlords occasionally running ahead to scout.

My thoughts turned to that old man—how random he’d been, how he’d invited me to find him. I shook my head, choosing to forget about the side quest. I needed to focus on my main one. Once this was all through, I’d go to the Tidesong Isles and see what he wanted—and how he knew I was an Offworlder.

I let out as sigh, strolling alongside my companions. I would have talked with Ariana, but she'd fallen asleep on Scarlet's back, still holding Kli’Taka close. Archimedes was scouted ahead and behind, ensuring we weren't being followed, leaving me alone with my thoughts…

And Gaia.

"You make it sound like it's a bad thing," he said, materializing beside me with a laugh.

I couldn't help but smirk. "Just the two of us, like old times."

"Speaking of old times—" Gaia's form brightened, his excitement palpable. "We've transcended the scythe. One piece down, four to go."

[Campaign Quest: Five Missing Pieces]

[Gaia's divine armaments are scattered throughout the region. It is your job to find them all.]

[Objective: Locate all five of Gaia's divine armaments and transcend each one.]

[Progress: 2/5 located, 1/5 transcended]

[Reward: Ultimate Transcendence]

“And once we get the crown to level five, you said we can break the Plague Lord's oath, and get out of this mess?”

"That's the plan," Gaia confirmed. "Though, I'm beginning to think you wouldn't turn back, even if you could."

I nodded slowly, because it was true. Even without the oath, I wanted to see this through. I glanced at that Voidling woman, her wrists tied, hurrying along with the group. She was just a victim of tyranny—of people using power to control, to hurt, to treat people as objects.

Something I was determined to put an end to.

"There are mysteries here I want to unravel, too” Gaia said. “Something strange about this place…something familiar, yet not."

A strange way of putting it. We continued our march through the canyon maze in silence. The twisted stone corridors were starting to feel claustrophobic, closing in with each passing hour. But the dark gray was now lightening to deep blue as dawn approached—though we couldn't see the horizon from this depth, the sky above gradually brightened.

A whoosh of heat announced Archimedes's return. He descended on jets of flame erupting from his boots, landing gracefully beside me.

"I caught sight of our pursuers only twice," he said, the expression on his flickering face grim "They're keeping their distance, but they're definitely following."

I sighed, annoyed. "Who are they? What do they want?"

"I can't be certain," Archimedes replied, “but I believe they're servants of Roksas.”

That my skin crawl. Another Wielder's territory…another potential enemy.

Before I could dwell on it further, something caught my eye ahead—a brightening, a widening of the walls. The canyon's exit. Relief flooded through me, so powerful I almost staggered.

"We're almost there," I called back to the others.

We quickened our pace, and minutes later emerged into the open air. The sight before us stole my breath.

A vast hilly field stretched to the horizon, the sight a complete 180 from the blighted landscape we'd traveled through. The ground was orange, streaked with vibrant red, without a trace of gray. Patches of bright blue grass dotted the landscape, swaying in a breeze that smelled of sulfur and something else—something almost sweet. Large pools of luminescent blue water were scattered throughout like fallen pieces of sky.

And there, on the distant horizon, rose the tower.

Massive and imposing, it stretched toward the clouds in four distinct tiers, each smaller than the one below, like a layered cake. Sharp spikes lined the edges of each level, giving it a menacing appearance, even from a distance.

[Quest: Destroy the Spawning Point]

[The Plague Lord has commanded you to destroy the massive spawning point in the heart of the Blight.]

[Reward: +50 Reputation with the Plague Lord]

I glanced over at the Voidlings. Her head hung, and she was muttering to herself, seemingly oblivious to her surroundings. Was this tower truly a spawning point, or something more? Was it sacred to her people? I wanted to ask her, but she'd been shaking and muttering for hours, clearly in shock. No information about her mysterious people or the shadowy figures who commanded them had been forthcoming.

"Group meeting," I called, as the archlords returned from their final scouting mission.

Our unusual company gathered around me—Ariana, Archimedes, Kli’Taka, Rekhael, and various heralds, archlords, and soldiers from both the Plague Lord and the Frost Baroness.

As they assembled, Scarlet's form flashed with golden-emerald light. The radiance surrounded her, illuminating the entire group.

[Herald Status: 100% Complete]

[Scarlet has fully ascended to herald status]

Verdant Rush (Active)

●            Effect: Dashes forward at 180 ft/sec (≈122 mph) for up to 1.5 seconds, becoming a verdant blur, leaving a shimmering trail of glowing plants and drifting petals in her wake.

●            Trail Effect: Allies who cross the path heal 5% Max HP/sec for 3 seconds.

●            Cooldown: 1 second

●            Type: Movement / Support

●            Resonance Field: All allies within field receive +60% movement speed.

• Sonic Bloom (Active)

●            Effect: Unleash a burst of supernatural acceleration, reaching 300 ft/sec (≈204 mph) in a blink, instantly covering up to 100 meters.

●            Shockwave: Triggers a sonic boom at launch point and endpoint, dealing 100 nature/magic damage to enemies within 5 meters, and knocking them back.

●            Petal Flurry: The path swirls with petals, disorienting enemies and granting +20% evasion to allies who pass through for 5 seconds.

●            Cost: 120 MP or 25% Stamina

●            Cooldown: 5 minutes

●            Type: Movement / AoE / Crowd Control

• Soul Mend (Channeled, Active)

●            Effect: Heals spiritual damage (e.g., soul corruption, debuffs tied to spirit).

●            Secondary Effect: Reduces emotional distress and mental debuffs by 50% for 60 seconds.

●            Channel Duration: 5 seconds

●            Cooldown: 60 seconds

●            Type: Healing / Utility

• Nature's Guardian (Active)

●            Effect: Summons a dome (10-meter radius) of entwined living vines and branches.

●            Defense: Absorbs up to 500 damage for allies inside.

●            Offense: Enemies inside take 100 nature damage per second.

●            Duration: 10 seconds

●            Cooldown: 90 seconds

●            Type: Defensive / AoE

• Herald's Sight (Passive Toggle)

●            Effect: Detects all living beings within a 1-mile (1.6 km) radius through walls and terrain.

●            Highlights: Displays life force signatures by strength and intent.

●            Toggle Cost: 50 mana/minute

●            Type: Detection / Perception

• Transcendent Bond (Passive & Active)

●            Effect (Passive): Shared health pool with Wielder (damage split 50/50).

●            Effect (Active): Combine ultimate abilities for a devastating dual attack.

●            Shared Healing: Healing spells affect both Bonded units for 75% of their total effect.

●            Cooldown (Active Combo): 5 minutes

●            Type: Support / Synergy

She turned to me, her tails swishing, eyes glowing with newfound power, the connection between us deepening, a thread of golden-green light linking our spirits. I could feel her emotions—her joy, her pride, her unwavering loyalty. I rubbed her large face as she licked my cheek, her tongue warm and rough.

One of the Archlords—Tenebris—stepped forward, his face solemn.

"I know this place," he said, his voice like grinding stones. “I was one of the few who held back when we first scouted and attacked here. If I hadn't been watching from a distance, I would have died with the others. They were…slaughtered, to put it lightly.”

I scanned the seemingly empty landscape. "I don't see any enemies."

"Nor did we, until it was too late."

I looked up at the hazy sky, stretching my senses outward, immediately recoiling at the sudden spike of pain. I grimaced, rubbing my head. That haze meant death. "No flying, then. We'll have to approach on foot, or at least close to the ground."

I examined Scarlet's new abilities, focusing on her speed enhancement. A plan formed in my mind.

"Scarlet will carry as many of us as she can," I said. “She'll run toward the tower, holding back her full speed until we encounter resistance. The rest of you…” I turned to the archlords. "Can you carry the heralds and soldiers?"

They nodded, wings unfurling.

Archimedes ignited the flames beneath his boots, rising several inches off the ground. "I'll help transport those I can as well."

"Our goal is to reach the tower and get inside," I continued. “Once there, we'll determine how to…” I hesitated, the word 'destroy' sticking in my throat. “…how to proceed.”

I was still bound by the Plague Lord's command, but my curiosity about the tower's true purpose had grown. What if destroying it was the wrong move? I'd keep my options open, ready to adapt once we learned more.

I mounted Scarlet, feeling her power humming beneath me. Ariana sat in front of me, with Kli’Taka behind. A few soldiers joined us, while the archlords picked up the others. I noticed Archimedes hesitate when looking toward the Rekhael, then choose someone else to carry instead.

"Ready?" I called to everyone.

A chorus of affirmatives answered me.

I patted Scarlet's side, and she broke into a trot that quickly accelerated to a run far faster than she'd ever moved before. But this wasn't her full speed—I could sense her holding back, conserving energy for what might come.

The sulfur smell grew stronger as we advanced, stinging my nostrils. So different from the dead emptiness of the Blight before. My Transcended Scythe gleamed in my hand, its edge now like captured sunlight, its haft thrumming with power.

I activated Group Shield, the emerald energy expanding outward, seperating to envelop each member of our party in their own protective bubble. The force fields shimmered as we moved in formation across the orange terrain.

Kli’Taka’s arms wrapped around my waist, her grip firm despite one arm still looking drained and pale. Ariana had wrapped healing plants around the afflicted limb, their leaves pulsing with gentle light. The sight of them both filled me with a fierce, protective love that surprised me with its intensity. Forgive me…

Flashes of her memories washed over me—moments of pain, of abandonment, of abuse. I'd meditated with her several nights ago, witnessed her suffering firsthand. But now, sensing it again, I noticed something strange. The pain that had dominated her memories was different, altered somehow. It was as if her recollections had been reshaped, the anguish overshadowed by…

By…me?

There I was, standing in their memories, a glowing presence offering comfort in moments where I hadn't even been present. Her trauma remained, but it was healing around the wounds, faster than I would have thought possible.

Ariana sat in front of me, her back straight, spider legs curled, her hair whipping in the wind. My hands rested on her shoulders, steadying her as Scarlet sped across the uneven ground. I glanced back at Kli’Taka, then at Ariana, and an idea struck me—a revelation so simple yet profound I nearly gasped aloud.

I leaned forward, my lips close to Ariana’s ear.

"Replace the memory," I whispered.

She stiffened, then turned her head slightly. "What?"

"What if you relived the trauma and the pain," I continued, the idea taking shape as I spoke, "but instead of dredging up all the anger and fear, what if you saw me instead? What if I was there, holding you when you felt terrified and alone?"

She went still, her eyes finding mine. I moved my hands from her shoulders to her waist, drawing her closer. The warm feelings deep within—the ones I’d nearly confessed before we were interrupted—expanded in my chest.

"Close your eyes," I whispered, my breath stirring her hair. "Meditate again. Revisit the trauma…and I'll be there with you."

My heart raced as she leaned back against me, her warmth spreading across my skin. “Close your eyes,” I whispered. “You won’t be alone this time.”

***

Ariana felt Kazro's hands slide from her shoulders to her waist, and her entire body prickled with goosebumps. His touch anchored her, sent currents of warmth coursing through her veins. Her heart fluttered wildly, a caged bird beating against her ribs.

Light seemed to radiate from him, illuminating the darkness she carried within, exposing the monster she knew herself to be, the people she'd killed back in Gaian City, the blood she'd tasted on her lips.

She stiffened, suddenly, wanting to scream, to hide! Could he see her nightmares? Did he now know the truth? And if so, how could he touch her so tenderly, speak to her with such compassion? He'd done nothing but give to her, fight for her, protect her! And she'd given nothing in return but secrets and lies.

"Close your eyes," he whispered, his breath warm against her ear, smelling fresh despite their long journey. "Meditate again. Revisit the trauma…and I'll be there with you."

Her cheeks caught fire, and she couldn’t help but sink back into him and close her eyes. When she did, the nightmare flashed back—the one she knew wasn't just a dream. Bodies strewn around her, their blood drained away, their faces contorted in terror. Her hands, her mouth, stained with their blood.

She flinched as another memory flashed—that cold winter night, Carson's face twisted with hatred, standing over her with a bloodied rock. Her, waking in this world, confused, panicked. The realization that she would never see her parents again, never return to her world, her life.

Part of her wanted to resist Kazro's comfort, to push back against his love. She didn't deserve it. She was dangerous, tainted, broken. The animal inside could wake at any moment, could hurt him as she'd hurt others.

But as his arms encircled her torso, his warmth spread through her like sunlight through ice. She melted, surrendering to his embrace, sinking into him completely.

The nightmares remained—Carson killing her, her killing innocents, the grief of all she'd lost—but now they were enveloped in something else. The arms of a boy she loved so deeply it ached, so completely it hurt. A boy who held her through the darkness, who promised to stand beside her no matter what came.

And for the first time since waking in this world, Ariana allowed herself to hope.

Chapter 55 - Betrayal

Archimedes shot forward, flames bursting from his boots. He flew through the sulfurous air until he caught up with Archlord Tenebris, who buzzed ahead with two soldiers clutched in his arms. The archlord's three eyes scanned the vibrant hills, and Archimedes followed his gaze.

The landscape was eerily beautiful—orange and red marbled earth stretching as far as the eye could see, punctuated by pools of luminescent blue that seemed almost too perfect, too still. In the distance, the tower loomed like a challenge against the hazy sky, its tiered structure and spiked edges promising danger.

"I don't understand," Tenebris said, his gravelly voice barely audible over the rush of wind. "There was so much chaos, so much death…but it is all so still."

Archimedes narrowed his eyes. "Perhaps it was because you brought an army here?"

"Perhaps. But this feels…different."

They flew on in silence, joined by other arch lords carrying soldiers and heralds. Archimedes himself carried a soldier in one arm and that Voidling in the other, while more soldiers were tucked safely inside his astral pocket—a dimensional fold where he stored artifacts and, when necessary, people.

Something in the air made Archimedes's fiery flesh prickle. The aura was shifting, charged with…anticipation? Whoever inhabited this place knew they were coming—yet made no move to stop them. Why wait? What purpose did this patience serve?

“Don’t let your guard down,” he whispered, and Tenebris gave a subtle nod.

His gaze drifted to Rekhael flying with another archlord. Archimedes had deliberately avoided carrying him, had chosen another instead, despite having the capacity. A nettling irritation followed the thought.

Despite Gaia's presence flowing through him, helping him heal, Archimedes still felt broken. A simmering hatred for the Sa’Khari lingered in his heart like a splinter. He knew he was close to letting go, could feel the potential for release, but something held him back.

Give it to me, Gaia's voice whispered in his mind.

Archimedes started, surprised he could hear the god so clearly.

Give it to me right now, the voice insisted.

"I am trying!" Archimedes hissed under his breath.

That is why you fail. There's a piece of you that wants to hold on, wants to keep your anger justified. You're making excuses. No more excuses. Release it now.

Archimedes exhaled slowly, struggling with this. Was Gaia right? Was he holding onto his hatred because some part of him wanted to justify his anger? The question expanded in his mind, forcing him to look deeper than he had in months.

Why was he holding on so hard?

Why was he…

Why…

If I let go, he realized, eyes going wide, I am betraying them.

Something warm expanded in his core, his eyes going even wider.

If he released his hatred for the Sa’Khari, it would be as if the lives of all those Drifters didn't matter. As if their deaths were meaningless, forgotten.

The realization shook him. His heart cracked, pain climbing to an almost unbearable pitch. A tingling sensation built behind his eyes—tears he hadn't shed in months, pushing to the surface.

Before he could process this breakthrough, someone shifted in his arms. The void-eyed woman—the one who’d begged for mercy—stirred for the first time since they'd bound her and brought her along. She blinked rapidly, looking around with growing panic.

“Wait…” Her voice was thin, reedy. “Wait! Where are you taking me?”

Archimedes tightened his grip, keeping her secure. "We're going to the tower."

She gasped, her black-pit eyes widening. “What! No! Don’t! Father will kill you! Father will kill you all!"

“Calm down. We are going to the tower. Would you rather be left behind?"

Already pale as death, she somehow grew even whiter. Her lips pressed together, body trembling but silent now.

“And…who is this 'Father' you speak of?" Archimedes asked, suddenly uneasy. They knew so little about these lands, about the forces that governed them.

The woman closed her eyes, bowing her head. Her jaw worked, but no coherent words emerged at first—just muttering, fragments of thoughts. Then: "He hungers. Father hungers for more, more and more. But it's never enough."

Before Archimedes could press further, a terrible sound reached his ears—the cracking of earth, as if massive bones were shattering beneath them. The ground shook, sending ripples across blue pools.

He spun around, still flying forward, and saw roots like fleshy tendrils ripping up from the ground far behind them. They rose high into the hazy air, a living wall blocking their retreat.

Archimedes's stomach dropped. The trap was sprung, but not in the way they'd expected. The ground continued to shake, the waters bubbling wildly now. All around them, the placid blue pools erupted.

His gaze found Kazro in the chaos—the Wielder's arm wrapped protectively around Ariana as they rode Scarlet at breakneck speed. His Transcended Scythe shone like the sun, its edge cutting through reality itself. Gaia's essence pulsed around him, and golden fire crackled along his clothing, along his very soul.

Fleshy tendrils burst from the pools surrounding them, blue veins pulsing along their length, reaching skyward with grasping hunger.

"Kazro!" Archimedes shouted, pouring more power into his flames, accelerating forward. “Hurry!” The time for stealth and measured pace was over.

It was time to run.

Chapter 56 - Verdant Rush

Ariana crouched in darkness, living shadows surrounding her. Spider people rushed at her from every direction, their limbs clicking against stone, their eyes glowing purple. One launched toward her—a blur of grasping limbs and gnashing fangs. It slammed into her, teeth sinking into her neck.

She screamed as the ground fell open beneath her, plunging her into nothingness. Then, suddenly, she was standing upright, panting, in a new room. No spider creature. No wound at her throat.

A crystalline flower hovered in front of her, pulsing with heat. Her hands pressed against its warm surface, a decision tearing her apart—bring Archimedes through or return back to Earth.

The flower shattered beneath her fingers, its fragments bursting outward like frozen stars. A portal ripped open in the fabric of reality, and Drifters jumped out, their forms trailing blue mist.

Ariana collapsed, weeping. She'd betrayed her parents, her world. She'd chosen strangers over the life she knew, over the chance to go home. Cold emptiness spread through her chest as tears burned down her cheeks.

Snow began to fall around her, a bitter wind whipping her hair across her face. She looked up to see Carson standing over her, his red hair framing his face like flames, freckles standing out against his pale skin. Blood trailed from his eyes down his cheeks as he gritted his teeth, glaring down at her with unadulterated hatred.

Panic surged through her, quickly transforming to hot rage. She clenched her teeth as she readied herself to spring at him, to tear him apart as he had done to her. All the pain, all the fear, all the loss he'd caused—it crystallized into a burning need in her chest, a hunger for vengeance.

As Carson stepped forward, a brilliant light flashed above her—emerald and golden, so bright it hurt to look at. Ariana held up a hand to shield her eyes. Carson staggered back, his own hand raised against the radiance, his body dissolving into mist.

When her vision cleared, that golden-green light expanded, enveloping her in warmth. A young man materialized in front of her, kneeling, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close against his chest. The snow melted around them, replaced by soft grass and wildflowers.

Ariana shook, her entire body trembling as she squeezed him back, arms locked tight around him. The pain inside her peaked as memories, again, flashed by—her death, her rebirth, her transformation, her losses. Somehow, she knew Kazro could see them all, that he was watching each one, becoming a part of each terrible moment.

But then her darkest secret emerged—the black void in her memory, the taste of blood on her lips, the innocent Gaians she'd killed during her blackout. Fear flared within her core. She pushed against him, trying to break away before he could see, before he could know what kind of monster she truly was.

Kazro only held on tighter, his arms like steel bands around her.

"Nothing can push me away," he whispered in her ear. "Nothing you do will ever make me stop loving you."

Heat pricked her eyes, heart fluttering like captive butterflies, her stomach twisting with emotions she couldn't name. She melted into his arms, squeezing him even tighter as he did the same.

He'd said it. He'd finally said it. Love. The word she hadn't dared hope for, hadn't believed she deserved.

I love you too, Kazro, she thought, the words burning in her mind but catching in her throat. I love you so, SO much.

Light and warmth expanded within her soul as she clung to him, to this boy who’d somehow seen the darkest parts of her, and loved her still.

"Kazro!" Archimedes's voice cut through the air like a knife.

Kazro flinched back, and the golden-green light shattered around them.

***

My eyes snapped open.

Tall, thick roots burst from vibrant blue pools, several dozen already rising high in the sky, blocking us from all around. Brilliant blue veins pulsed along their fleshy lengths. Up ahead, in the distance, the tower stood—our destination, our only way forward.

"Scarlet!" I shouted. “Fly!”

[Verdant Rush - Activated]

Scarlet's emerald-golden body transformed, her fur smoothing to a sleek, aerodynamic shape. The plants growing along her spine shifted, folding back like the crest of a racing helmet. Her multiple tails fused into a single, powerful rudder.

She launched forward with explosive force. I felt my stomach drop at the sudden acceleration. Ariana squeezed me tight as I hunched over, the wind whipping against my face with such intensity my eyes watered. We shot across the terrain like a bullet, a radiant aura extending from us in all directions.

[Resonance Field Active]

[All allies within field receive +60% movement speed]

Around us, the archlords and Archimedes caught the edge of our aura, their own speeds increasing as they carried the rest of our group. We formed a comet of light, streaking toward the tower.

Tremors rocked the ground. I glanced back to see those tall vines whipping down fast, missing us by several yards. New tendrils ripped up through the earth directly in our path.

“Crescent Strike!” I swung my Transcended Scythe and dozens of spinning crescents launched out, cleaving through flesh, obliterating them completely.

A distant screech echoed across the landscape—pained and furious.

“Lake ahead!” Archimedes shouted from up ahead, but I'd already spotted it—a huge, bubbling expanse of boiling water that blocked our path completely.

I nearly yanked Scarlet off-course, but reassurance pulsed through my connection with her. She activated one of her ice techniques, bursting with white mist. She lunged forward, sprinting across the boiling surface, the water directly beneath her paws freezing solid, creating a path of ice that melted almost instantly after we passed.

We were practically running on water, the ice materializing and vanishing with each step. The heat from the lake rose in waves so intense I could feel it searing my skin despite the freezing temperature Scarlet let off.

Ariana flung her arms wide, a burst of gold mist and cooling energy washed over us, refreshing both Scarlet and me, reinvigorating us.

More thick tendrils erupted from water ahead, whipping toward us archlords and heralds fired blasts of green energy at them while Archimedes launched fireballs that exploded on impact. I swung my scythe, sending arcs of brilliant emerald energy that cut through the tentacles like they were made of mist.

Finally, we crossed the lake, still racing forward at breathtaking speed. My eyes streamed from the force of the wind against my face.

"More than halfway there!" Gaia shouted, floating beside me.

I looked ahead. The tower loomed closer now, its true nature more apparent. What I'd thought was stone was actually grayish-tan flesh, the curved spikes around each tier resembling teeth more than architectural elements. It looked almost like a volcano made of living tissue.

"Wait," Gaia called suddenly. "Who is that?"

I narrowed my eyes, focusing on the base of the tower. A lone figure approached from the distance, walking with unnatural grace. Blue veins glowed beneath their skin, pulsing in rhythm with the tower and the roots that had attacked us.

But it was the eyes that stopped my heart—glowing orange-blue, set in a wrinkled face I knew all too well.

Carson.

Chapter 57 - All Consuming Fire

Carson stomped forward, the ground cracking beneath his feet. His muscles burned, pulsing tight beneath his skin. He clenched his hands into fists, blue veins glowing like neon tubes. His mind was sharper than ever before, his feelings cool and refreshed—yet, his heart still bled.

He wasn't whole.

Not yet.

And he wouldn't be until he killed Kazro.

He could see him up ahead, riding that stupid wolf of his, several people flying alongside him. A radiant emerald-gold aura enveloped them all, a perfect target against the ruddy landscape. Carson gritted his teeth, a broad smile spreading across his face. Anticipation coursed through him, electric and sparkling, as he waited for his prey.

A crackling screen materialized in his peripheral vision:

[Father's Blessing - Active]

• Infused with the power of Poethius, God of the Night

• All Stats +500%

• Time Remaining: 14:37

[New Abilities Unlocked:]

• Night Step - Teleport up to 60 feet, leaving trails of Night energy that damage enemies

• Life Drain - Steal life essence directly from nearby creatures, healing yourself

• Fatherʼs Voice - Channel Poethius's power to send devastating sonic attacks that shatter spirit and bone

• Eruption of the Night - Create a cascading explosion of Night energy in a 40-foot radius

• Nightmare Injection - Stab target with Night-infused needles that cause hallucinations and terror

Crackling erupted in his mind—Krypkryla trying to expand, trying to speak. Carson immediately clamped down on her presence. She let out a crackly yelp and shrank away.

Good. She deserved to be silenced. She was never truly his god. She'd lied to him, used him, manipulated him. Father was his god now. Father had promised relief from his suffering, had already proved his power exceeded the goddess's.

His brothers' laughter rippled through his thoughts. Memories of their fists slamming against his gut, their cruel words, their endless torment. Panic welled inside him, familiar and choking. He needed to make them shut up, needed to get their torturous voices out of his head once and for all.

Break Kazro, Father's voice whispered in his mind. Do not kill him. You will get that satisfaction the same way your brothers got theirs… Carson staggered, reaching out his arms and steadying himself. Right. He was supposed to break Kazro, not kill him outright. Killing him would come later, after hours—days—of torture. A slow, excruciating death.

Kazro was closer now, speeding toward him like a comet.

Time to act.

Carson yelled, activating several techniques at once. Blue electricity crackled around him as he launched forward, streaking through the air, straight toward his enemy.

***

I gawked at the figure ahead, holding my scythe as Scarlet shot forward like a bullet. The wind whipped past, stinging my eyes, but there was no mistaking what I saw.

Carson. Alive.

How was this possible? I thought he was back at the cavern, broken and defeated. How had he gotten here? And why were his veins glowing? And when did his—

"I don't know!" Gaia shouted, flying beside me. “None of us know! We just need to take that little bastard out…again!”

I could sense Ariana's fear radiating, feel the rising panic mixing with the warmth we'd shared in our vision. There was no time to think, no time to plan. Carson flashed with bright blue electricity and shot toward us like lightning.

I summoned my Transcendent Shield directly in front of us. Carson slammed into it with the force of a meteor. Using my mental connection to the shield, I swung it sideways, sending him flying. He tumbled through the air but quickly regained control, bursting into pure electricity, launching at my flank.

I swung my scythe in a wide arc, sending a massive crescent toward him. Carson dodged by dissolving into electricity again, reappearing on my opposite side. Before I could react, he crashed into me with incredible force, knocking me clean off Scarlet's back.

I hit the ground hard, rolling across orange dust and sharp stones. Electricity coursed through me, making my muscles seize. I screamed, thrashing.

Carson slammed down nearby, giving me a clear look at his transformed state. Cracks zigzagged across his skin like fault lines, glowing blue blood seeping from the fissures. His eyes blazed with that same unnatural light. Whatever happened to him, whatever power he'd been given, it was destroying him from the inside out.

"You don't have to do this!" I shouted, gritting my teeth and launching to my feet, static coursing through me.

"I DO!" Carson screamed back, his voice distorted and echoing. "To get you OUT! To get you out of my MIND!"

He moved with blinding speed, punching out with electrical fists that crackled through the air. A right hook whistled past my ear—so close I felt heat singe my skin. He spun in a roundhouse kick. I ducked, the world slowing as my Mind Core kicked into overdrive. Each of Carson's movements left tracers in my vision, calculations unfurling like equations.

I twisted the scythe to block the next attack, emerald light trailing through the air. Carson's fist connected with the flat of the blade. Electricity surged through the metal, numbing my fingers. I shoved then spun away, barely avoiding a kick that would have shattered my ribs.

"KAZRO!"

Archlord Tenebris dove from above, spear flashing. Carson whirled, thrusting out his palm, a bolt of blue energy erupting from his fingertips. It punched through Tenebris like paper, leaving nothing but ash drifting on the wind.

“NO!” I shouted.

Two more archlords swooped in from opposite sides. Carson clapped his hands together. A shockwave of electricity exploded outward, catching them both. Their bodies convulsed, skin cracking as blue light poured from their eyes, their mouths. One moment they were there; the next, only fragments remained, sizzling as they fell.

“You bastard!” I sprinted toward him.

He laughed, punching out an electrical attack.

I ducked, dodging it.

A bolt of searing pain lanced through my chest—not my pain, but Scarlet's. I felt electricity hit her through our bond, felt her muscles lock, her heart stutter. My legs buckled, and I staggered across the orange earth, teeth gritted so hard my jaw ached, fighting to stay upright.

Through watering eyes, I saw my companions in a wide circle, beyond my reach. Heralds slashed at tentacles with glowing weapons. Soldiers fired arrows that exploded on impact. They were fighting to reach me, desperate to help, but the writhing roots kept surging up, blocking their path, forcing them back.

Carson sauntered toward me, ten paces away. I shot to my feet and we charged simultaneously, kicking up dust, closing the distance.

Three steps away.

Two.

One.

Time crystallized. Our eyes locked.

For a heartbeat, I saw it again—the bleeding pain beneath, raw and festering. Carson's expression changed—surprise flickering across his fractured features. He saw something in me, too, something that made him hesitate.

Take him out, Gaia whispered. Mercy is a virtue, but this guy’s insane.

My heart ached, but I couldn’t hold back—not with so much at stake.

The scythe's blade connected, slicing across his torso with a sound like metal scraping metal. New cracks spread across his skin, blue light erupting from the fissures. Carson's scream hit me like a physical force—pure anguish at such a frequency my vision blurred.

I sprinted past him, but spun to face him. He stumbled, spinning to face me, his eyes hardening, teeth bared. Howling, he vomited a bolt of energy—thick as my arm and brilliant as a star. I gasped, Mind Core processing it fast as lightning. I spun, dodging it, but Carson wasn’t done.

He shot out another, and another, until dozens were flying at me. I spun, weaving past one bolt after another. One materialized out of nowhere and hit me squarely in the chest, exploding. My body sailed backward, slamming into the earth with a force that drove all air from my lungs, that made my metal bones creak.

[HP: 287/2,290]

[MP: 928/3,680]

[Stamina: 220/1,100]

[Burnout: 768%/900%]

I tried to rise, but small glowing blue tentacles erupted from the earth, wrapping around my limbs. I pulled against them, activating several area-effect techniques that tore up the ground around me, but my burnout was already dangerously high. More tentacles emerged, enveloping me completely. Sharp protrusions stabbed into my flesh, injecting some kind of burning fluid that made my back arch in agony.

I screamed.

The pain was unlike anything I'd experienced—like acid flowing through my veins, like fire consuming me from within.

***

Ariana slashed out with her claws, throwing out massive golden slashes, severing a tentacle in a spray of glowing blue fluid. A shriek tore through the air, but she paid it no mind.

She was fixed on Kazro, writhing in agony as smaller tentacles wrapped around him, piercing his flesh.

Panic surged through her, hot and suffocating. The memory of his warmth, his love, crashed against her like a physical blow from behind, forcing her forward.

She couldn't let him die. She wouldn't let him die!

In that moment, she bitterly regretted not saying the words aloud—not telling him she loved him when she had the chance.

Carson skipped across the ground toward Kazro, crackling with electricity, a predator moving in for the kill. The sight triggered a flashback—Earth, that cold winter night, the roles reversed. Carson hunting her, Kazro running to her defense.

Now, it was her turn.

Ariana lunged forward, her spider legs skittering with impossible speed. Her fist glowed with concentrated energy, a scream tearing from her throat.

Carson glanced her way, a smile spreading across his shattered face. Blood trailed down wrinkled flesh, the blue glow of his veins significantly dimmer than before.

"Look at you," Carson said, his voice crackling like static. "Running to save the boy you love. How sweet.” His smile widened. “Too bad he'll be dead before you reach him."

The last threads of Kazro's healing snapped. The pain she'd been fighting, the darkness she'd been holding at bay—it surged forward, consuming her from within. Gaia's voice screamed at her to stay calm, to maintain control, but it was too late.

Ariana slashed out, unleashing a barrage of golden blades. Carson dodged most, but not all. She closed the distance between them, slashing out with her claws. They connected with his face, tearing away a chunk of flesh and glowing blue matter.

Carson screamed, spinning to face her. His fist, charged with crackling energy, smashed into her jaw with devastating force. Darkness claimed her instantly.

***

Archimedes swung his staff, launching fireballs that exploded against massive tentacles. Each impact sent chunks of burning flesh flying, filling the air with the stench of char and rot. But for every tendril he destroyed, three more took its place.

Several rose up, poised to strike at him and one other person—Rekhael. Time seemed to slow as Archimedes saw the fear in the man's crystalline eyes, an opportunity opening up.

He could launch away. Save his own skin. Let this man, this Sa’Khari, die. His core pulsed with a cold, dark sense of satisfaction.

But then, he remembered…

Words.

Words he'd said to Kazro to provide comfort and guidance.

Words he needed to heed now.

To heal, you must confront what you fear most. You must walk through the fire, not around it.

Confront.

Fear.

Fire.

Suddenly, Archimedes was there again—watching his village burn. He staggered back, instinct screaming to run. But instead of fleeing, he watched—watched as Sa’Khari burned his village. Drifters, running, fighting. And there, at the center, was a young Drifter with wide eyes, backing away from an enemy with raised sword. Archimedes launched toward the boy and thrust out his hands, activating a flaming shield that expanded around them both.

Reality snapped back into focus. Instead of a young Drifter, he stood over Rekhael, who lay in the same vulnerable position, hand raised, eyes wide with terror. Archimedes stared into those ruby eyes, then glanced back to see several sharp tentacles pushing against his fiery shield. More appeared, slamming into the barrier, many of them beginning to burn from the contact.

Looking back down at Rekhael, staring into the depths of his soul, he saw something he'd never allowed himself to see before—the humanity in those crystalline eyes, the vulnerability of another soul in pain.

Pain, not that different from his own. Pain, that should have been healed by now! Killing Kal’marath should have done it—vengeance should have sufficed. But the emptiness he'd felt afterward was suffocating.

Then, there was Kazro. Zyn. The healing he'd begun to experience by helping them.

Healing does not come through force or fire, the Sundust Sage had said, but by opening your wounds to the light.

Kazro's scream cut through his thoughts.

Archimedes looked up to see the boy wrapped in blue tendrils, his body convulsing with pain.

He snatched up Rekhael and launched toward Kazro, holding out his staff, chanting. It erupted with blue flames.

But, before he could launch an attack, the ground erupted beneath him. Massive roots ripped upward, smashing into his stomach with soul-crushing force. Aura left his lungs in a rush as he slammed into the earth. More tentacles reared up around him, their blue veins glowing with malevolent light. Before he could respond, they descended, sharp and glittering, aimed directly at his heart.

Chapter 58 - Drained Away

[HP: 42/2,290]

[MP: 70/3,680]

[Stamina: 98/1,100]

[Burnout: 892%/900%]

I drifted in and out of consciousness, floating in a haze of pain. Burning fluids flooded my system, caustic and foreign. Slimy tentacles wrapped around me—dozens, maybe hundreds—blocking my vision with their pulsing mass. Each one glowed with that sickening blue light, veins throbbing within translucent flesh.

They tugged me downward and sideways, dragging me through earth and stone. The pressure increased with each passing moment, squeezing tighter and tighter until I felt my ribs creak. If they were trying to snap my bones, they'd be disappointed.

Despite the agony, I smirked.

[Frosteel Bones - Passive]

• Skeleton reinforced with unbreakable magical alloy

• Immune to fractures, breaks, and crushing damage

• 75% reduction to impact damage

Thank the gods for Nyvara and Sveric. Their gift had saved me more times than I could count.

I sucked in a ragged breath, the air muggy and stale. The scent of copper and rot filled my nostrils, making my stomach turn. Breathing grew harder the deeper I was pulled, as if the earth itself were pressing in.

Gaia's golden-green mist swirled around me, his essence dense, substantial. Frustration pulsed through me, coupled with genuine fear for my allies. But beneath that burned a smoldering irritation at Carson. Yet strangely, even that was tempered with…pity? The raw pain in his eyes had been unmistakable.

"How did I see that?" I wheezed. "How could I feel his pain?"

"It's because of your growing connection with me," Gaia said, mist floating closer. "Empathy is one of my domains."

Warmth bloomed in my chest—a spark of excitement even in these dire circumstances. Still, my pride stung worse than my wounds.

"How did I lose to him?" I growled. "He has one vestment. One."

"You both lost," Gaia sighed. "I've been keeping an eye on everyone. They're fine—Ariana, Archimedes, Kli’Taka, Scarlet. Most of the soldiers and archlords died, though. But that Sa’Khari man survived, oddly enough."

"And Carson?"

"A splintered porcelain cup," Gaia said grimly. "Bleeding out up there."

Again, that strange mix of emotions swept through me—frustration, yes, but not the venomous hatred I might have felt a week ago. Carson was a wounded soul, confused and anguished. Something I was intimately familiar with.

To get you OUT! His words echoed in my mind: To get you out of my MIND! None of it made sense. What did I have to do with his pain?

"It's the tower," Gaia said suddenly, breaking into my thoughts. "These tentacles are roots, dragging you toward it. I can sense them—thousands, hundreds of thousands, maybe millions—reaching deep into the earth."

"Roots?" I frowned, wincing as the tentacles tightened. "From the tower? Is there some kind of…massive tree inside it?"

“No idea.” The mist rippled. "All I know is we're still alive, and these roots are taking us to the tower."

I focused on my breathing, drawing air slowly through my nose and releasing it through my mouth. My crown glowed brightly on my head, its energy helping to lower my burnout gauge. As I sank deeper into meditation, I felt my stamina and MP beginning to regenerate.

[MP: 75/3,680 and rising]

[Stamina: 102/1,100 and rising]

[Burnout: 890%/900% and falling]

• Void Roots (x157): +2,570

• Arcane Tentacles (x48): +3,960

• Mini-boss (Carson): +3,550

• Survival Bonus: +2,720

• Exploration (Unmapped Biome): +2,500

• Flawless Execution (No Damage Taken in First Phase): +3,000

• Speed Clear Bonus: +2,500

• Synergy Killstreak (10+ chained kills with ability combos): +3,000

[XP Gained: +23,800]

[Crown of the Harvest: Level 4 (15%)]

[XP: 2,500/25,000]

My heart skipped. I had more than enough XP to transcend the crown. The thought sent a shiver of excitement through me—with both vestments transcended, I could break free from the Plague Lord's oath. I could face him as an equal, not a servant. I could protect the Wilds on my own terms.

But something held me back. Transcending would release a burst of energy that might alert whatever was dragging me through the earth. Better to wait, to hold the XP in reserve.

You'll get an instant refresh if you level it up, Gaia said, clearly following my thoughts. Giving you the strength you need to fight back. But yes, I agree—wait until there's not so much attention on you.

Time stretched as I was pulled sideways through the earth. Eventually, the direction changed—we were moving upward now. I could sense my allies nearby—Ariana, Scarlet, Archimedes, Kli’Taka—being dragged alongside me. But then, to my horror, they were pulled away in different directions.

Panic surged through me. Not just for my friends, but for everything I'd sworn to protect—Gaian City, the Whisper Wilds, this entire region. This monster, whatever entity controlled the tower, had somehow resurrected Carson and infused him with power beyond anything I'd expected. Could I really stand against such a force?

In that moment of doubt, I sensed Vlindakh's presence in my Mind Core—watchful, patient, knowing. I glanced toward his moveset, still accessible despite Gaia's disapproval.

[Vlindakh's Curse Abilities]

• Shadow Step - Teleport through darkness (15% Corruption)

• Blood Lance - Sacrifice HP for ranged attack (20% Corruption + 10% HP)

• Corruption Nova - AoE damage + Weakness effect (25% Corruption)

• Soul Shackle - Bind enemy + increase damage taken (30% Corruption)

• Void Strike - Unstoppable attack that ignores defenses (40% Corruption)

• Essence Devourer - Drain HP and gain XP (35% Corruption + 20 MP/sec)

[Gaia's Abilities - Transcended Scythe]

• Divine Reaping - Strike entire groups of enemies with celestial energy that bypasses armor and shields

• Veil of Eternity - Create a zone where allies become immune to status effects and movement impairments

• Final Judgment - Channel all burnout into a single, devastating strike that deals true damage equal to (Attack x 5) + (Burnout % x 3)

• Harvest God's Domain - Transform a 100-foot radius into a realm of your control, where plants grow instantly and enemies are slowed by 50%

• World Tree Connection - While in contact with plant life, regenerate 5% HP and MP per second and gain 30% damage reduction

[Crown Abilities]

• Supreme Mandate - Force enemies to halt actions

• Verdant Dominion - Create zone of healing for allies

• Herald of Kings - Transform ally into High Herald

• Sovereign's Presence - Passive aura of protection

"You will get out of this," Gaia assured me. "Remember, you have the crown. It can transcend."

I felt a spike of excitement, but kept Vlindakh's interface hovering in my peripheral vision. I still didn't know what awaited me, and I might need every ability at my disposal.

The roots around me strained, as if pushing against something solid. Then, suddenly, they broke through, pulling away from my face. I blinked, wiping sticky fluid from my eyes.

I was inside a chamber with walls that looked like living muscle. Blue veins pulsed beneath the surface, casting an eerie glow throughout the space. Nausea coiled in my gut as thicker tendrils rose up, wrapped around my limbs and burrowed into my flesh. I gritted my teeth, squeezing my hands into fists to keep from crying out.

"I can't remember the last time I got my hands on a Wielder."

The deep, resonant voice echoed from everywhere at once. I heard a wet, tearing sound—like flesh being pulled apart. Glancing to my left, I found an eyeball splitting open along the wall, its pupil contracting as it focused on me. More eyes opened, all around the chamber, each one swiveling to fix me with an unblinking stare.

My heart hammered against my ribs. What the hell…

"Your life essence accounts for millions," the voice continued, almost dreamy in its satisfaction. "An exciting prospect."

“Who are you!” I shouted through gritted teeth, my interface still floating nearby, XP waiting to be channeled.

"Azoth'Malar, child of Roksas, father of the Voidlings," the voice boomed. "And you will do the world a great service, donating your life essence.” He took a deep breath, muggy wind ruffling my hair. “Roksas will be most pleased with this boost of power. I keep telling him to pluck up all the Wielders in this region, but he's too busy fighting off others."

More roots burrowed into my flesh. I grunted, blood trickling from the punctures.

I think now's the time, kid, Gaia said urgently. I sense a technique coming on. I don't want you blacking out!

A valid concern. I seemed to black out a lot.

I nodded, drawing a deep breath through my nose. The aura was changing, growing denser, heavier. The time for conversation—for answers about Roksas and this living tower—would have to wait. Besides, I'd gotten what I needed to know: this thing was trying to kill me. That justified destroying it in return.

With a mental push, I channeled all my accumulated XP into the crown. Energy surged through the connection, a torrent of power filling the vestment to its limit and beyond.

[Crown of the Harvest: Level 4 → Level 5]

[TRANSCENDING…]

[TRANSCENDED!]

Golden-green light exploded from the crown, washing away my pain in a blinding flash. The chamber filled with radiance, scouring every shadow. The tower—Azoth'Malar—shrieked, its tentacles recoiling.

[Crown of the Harvest - TRANSCENDED]

[New Abilities Unlocked:]

• Godhead Dominion - Assert complete control over a 200-foot radius, rejecting all other divine influences

• Throne of Light - Become temporarily invulnerable while channeling Gaia's essence directly

• Sovereign's Command - Force any being to obey one command (limited by target's power level)

• Majestic Onslaught - Attack speed increases by 200% for 10 minutes.

• Crown of Creation - Generate any natural material or botanical lifeform in your vicinity

[Mind Core Evolution]

• Eternal Vigilance - Mind cannot be influenced, controlled, or read by any being

• Thought Acceleration - Experience time at 15x normal speed during critical moments

• Mental Fortress - Immune to divine mental attacks and alterations

[All Stats Refreshed]

[Burnout Recovery Speed: +60%]

[MP Regeneration: +75%]

[New Burnout Threshold: 0/1,000%]

The tentacles released me, and I fell through the air, spinning. I slashed wildly with my scythe, tearing through roots, spattering blue blood across the chamber. But for every tendril I severed, ten more appeared. They speared through me from all directions, thousands of needles piercing my flesh.

My entire body locked up, paralyzed. I screamed through gritted teeth, muscles thrashing involuntarily. A howl tore from my throat as golden-emerald light began to flow from my body into the pulsing veins.

My essence. My life force. Getting drained away.

Chapter 59 - Getting Worse

Power surged through Ariana and she sat up straight, eyes flashing open with a gasp. Her entire body felt refreshed, renewed. She drew in a deep, heaving breath, then looked down at her arms—they glowed with brilliant emerald-gold light, so intense she could see straight through her skin to the bones beneath.

She blinked rapidly, trying to orient herself as she breathed in and out. The chamber around her gradually came into focus—wide and cavernous, with spikes jutting from the ceiling and protruding from the floor around her.

Glowing blue veins swam through the ground like rivers of light, pulsing with a steady rhythm. She lifted her gaze to the ceiling, where more veins spread in intricate patterns. Oddly, some of them were slowly taking on an emerald-golden hue.

The air hung thick and muggy, carrying the rancid scent of sulfur and decay, the rotten egginess of it making her stomach turn. When she tried to move, she discovered her arms and legs bound by fleshy roots.

Wait. Okay, where am I? Her thoughts spun, fragments of memory piecing themselves together. Carson. Somehow alive, crackling with blue electricity. The battle. Her losing control.

A dull ache spread through her chest. All the progress she'd made with Kazro, those baby steps toward healing—shattered in an instant. The guilt washed over her anew. She'd let that rage take over, even as Gaia shouted at her to stay calm. She'd fallen right back into the darkness, as if Kazro's healing touch had never reached her.

Heat spread through her, a mounting tension screaming for release. "AAAGH!" she yelled, the word echoing around the chamber. She didn't want to keep losing control when she saw Carson. Yes, she hated him. Yes, his betrayal had broken something fundamental inside her. But she wanted to let go, just as Kazro had suggested—to give her pain to Gaia, to allow him to fill her traumatic memories with his warm presence instead.

It seemed impossible. Already, the anger was rising again, her heart bleeding afresh with remembered pain. She clenched her hands so tightly that her claws dug into her palms, drawing blood. Without thinking, she began to pray—not a conscious choice, but an instinctive reaching out. "Gaia," she whispered, voice breaking. “Help me… Help me let this go. Help me stop feeling this way! Help me overcome this, like Kazro did with his father…”

As the words left her lips, she sensed a presence—Gaia, but distant, distracted. In…pain? Her awareness expanded, tracking the sensation. He was directly above her, beyond the fleshy ceiling with its jutting spikes.

Spikes, dripping with slime. A drop slapped into her face, and she flinched, wiping at it. “Ugh.” It was sticky. Thick. Kind of like… “Mucus?”

Realization dawned with a wave of disgust. The pulsing "roots" weren't roots at all—they were veins. And those spikes, were they teeth? Holy crap. She was inside something alive, something massive. What in heaven’s name was happening?

Worry and panic surged within, not just for herself but for Kazro and Gaia. She could sense their pain, feel their struggle through some newfound connection. But what about everyone else? Where are they? She turned, scanning the rest of the chamber.

Archimedes lay nearby, wrapped in the same vein-like tendrils that covered his face, arms, and legs. He twitched and strained against his bonds. Beyond him, she spotted Scarlet, Kli’Taka, Rekhael, and even a few soldiers with glowing green veins.

To her horror, she realized that other lumps around the chamber were bodies—some recognizable, others not. On the far side of the vast room lay pieces of the giant centipede they'd ridden just days ago. What? But how? How did they get that here so quickly? It was at the bottom of an abyss when she last saw it.

Her gaze caught on a strange sight to her left—a black, inky cocoon that flinched and convulsed as if something inside struggled to break free. The sight made her squirm, so she looked away.

Thankfully, the sensation of being trapped inside a living thing wasn't entirely new to her—she'd spent days inside a giant worm, back in the Sundust Reaches. Still, nausea rolled through her at the thought. She set her jaw, determination hardening her resolve. She needed to free everyone, then find Kazro.

Kazro, who was suffering. Kazro, who needed her as much as she needed him.

Warmth flooded her chest at the thought—a brilliant heat that seemed to burn away everything else. It consumed her feelings of inadequacy, her self-disgust, her shame. As she pulled at the veins binding her wrists, snapping them with newfound strength, she remembered his embrace. How he'd glowed like a god in their shared vision.

How he'd loved her, no matter what secrets she kept.

The aching desire to say it aloud—to tell him she loved him, too—swelled within her chest. She needed to reach him, to finally speak what she'd only thought before.

You and Kazro must rule. The queen had said, the memory rising unbidden. You must marry. The words sent a spike of excitement through her, followed immediately by panic when she remembered the danger he was in. Still, her chest ached with longing.

She let out a dark chuckle, ripping more roots from her body. Here she was, with Kazro having barely confessed his love, and already she was thinking of marriage. Leave it to a sixteen-year-old to think like that.

With a final rip, she freed herself completely. Strangely, the severed veins merely twitched, and didn’t pursue her. She hurried toward Archimedes, intent on freeing him next.

As she moved, something strange caught her attention. Most of the veins in the ceiling now glowed with that same emerald-gold radiance she'd noticed earlier. But, as she watched, the color began to change—the gold and green slowly giving way to a black-red radiance that spread like a stain.

She slowed, stomach sinking.

Whatever was happening to Kazro was getting worse.

Chapter 60 - More Animal Than Human

I screamed my throat raw, that rush of power from the crown quickly draining out of me. The roots burrowed deeply into my flesh, sucking at my soul like some twisted vampire. Despite the Transcendence, despite the surge of power, they simply drank it all away—faster than I could generate it.

A deep well of energy still churned within, but the roots were siphoning it out relentlessly. My muscles were rigid, stiff, locked in place as if turned to stone. My thoughts raced wildly, fragmenting and reassembling in chaotic patterns.

Stay calm! Gaia shouted, though his voice held a panicked edge I'd never heard before. Breathe deeply! Focus your mind!

I tried to follow his instructions, dragging air into my lungs in ragged gasps. My Mind Core pulsed, desperately trying to stabilize itself against the invasion. When I attempted to summon an attack—Verdant Dominion, one of my most powerful area effects—energy surged through me only to be immediately sucked up by the greedy roots. I tried again, but they drank it up before it could fully manifest, and I felt my life force draining even faster.

“Kazro! There is one thing you can—” Gaia's voice faded in and out as I thrashed, squeezing my hands into white-knuckled fists.

Through the haze of pain, I became aware of another presence in my Mind Core—Vlindakh's silent vigil, his watching presence somehow louder than Gaia's shouts. And suddenly, a memory surfaced—Shahar, the titan, racing across the land, leaving nothing but death in his wake. His aura turning people to bones with a mere touch.

My heart pounded with a realization so obvious I nearly laughed despite the agony. Gaia's essence—his power, his radiant life force—wouldn't save me from this parasitic tower. A god of life's rich energy was exactly what it craved, what it fed upon.

I needed something else—something that killed, corrupted, destroyed.

With a mental shift, I activated Vlindakh's powers. Dark essence immediately flooded through me, intermingling with Gaia's light. The sensation was bizarre—burning and cooling simultaneously, like ice that seared rather than numbed.

I pushed the darkness outward, channeling it into the sucking roots. The black energy surged through the veins, and several of them flinched, some even recoiling as if burned. I grabbed the nearest ones, my hands growing dark as they melded with the living tissue, corruption flowing from my palms, directly into the veins.

[Corruption: 24%…25%…26%…]

All around me, veins pulled back, trying to escape the spreading corruption. But I held fast, yelling as I shoved more darkness into them. We thrashed together, locked in a perverse dance as my curse gauge steadily climbed.

A dark aura radiated from my body, expanding with each passing second. In my Mind Core, I felt Vlindakh's pleasure—a cold satisfaction that made my skin crawl. Yet, his soul remained locked tight within my core. Meditating, breathing in and out, I maintained control, despite flinching and thrashing from the searing pain.

[Corruption: 35%…36%…37%…]

I watched the gauge rise, determined not to let it reach 100%. That would mean death, or worse. But I continued to flood the system with corruption as I sensed Gaia's irritation—and beneath it, a palpable resignation.

The chamber darkened, veins along the walls flinching and squirming like wounded snakes. Muscles contracted along the walls.

“What?” The tower's voice transformed from a growl to a roar. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING? STOP THIS!"

New veins erupted from the walls—these ones were different, with sharp metallic edges like blades. They slammed into my skull with enough force to shatter bone, but merely bounced off. The impact rang in my ears, stars bursting in my vision.

My sight returned just in time to see the newer veins jab into my flesh, only to fill with darkness as soon as they connected. Blackness spread across my skin, followed by lines of pulsing red. The now-black muscled walls began to split open, developing sores that oozed and bubbled like molten rock.

The tower's resonant roar devolved into an ear-splitting shriek. It grew louder and louder until I thought my head would explode from the pressure.

Everything around me was deteriorating—melting, rotting, falling apart. I let out my own roar, a triumphant sound torn from my bleeding throat. Power radiated from me in waves, intoxicating in its intensity. The veins I gripped began to melt. The floor beneath me softened, then split apart entirely.

I dropped through the air, trailing black-red mist, before slamming into the ground, landing among spikes and corpses wrapped in vines that were now recoiling from my presence. Beyond them stood some familiar faces—Ariana at the forefront, protecting herself and the others with an emerald crystal shield etched with leafy designs. Archimedes, Kli’Taka, Scarlet, Rekhael, and a handful of soldiers huddled behind her protection.

They stared at me with wide, shocked eyes. Their gazes fixed on my right arm, which now pulsed with thick, glowing red veins. Dark aura still radiated from my body, almost solid in its density.

[Corruption: 72%]

I deactivated the technique, forcing the black aura to fade. A shaky breath escaped me, visible as dark mist in the air. My crown still radiated atop my head, flooding me with Gaia's warm essence to counterbalance the corruption.

I staggered to one side, examining the wounds in my arms—wounds that were already beginning to heal. After several deep breaths, I activated a healing technique from my crown, accelerating the process. Looking upward, I saw that the darkness had spread throughout the chamber above, melting a hole straight through to the sky. And all around me, the room was charred black, crisp and lifeless.

Behold, Vlindakh whispered. My power.

A sudden spike of aggression surged through me without warning. I roared—a sound more animal than human—and slammed my fist into the ground. A massive crack spread outward from the impact, spiderwebbing across the floor in all directions.

I breathed deeply, the last vestiges of dark mist trailing from my nostrils. Vlindakh's pleasure pulsed deep in my Mind Core, but I ignored it, shaking my head to clear away the lingering influence. My left hand—still glowing with golden-emerald light—summoned the scythe. Another breath escaped me, this one carrying motes of emerald and gold.

My gaze swept over my allies, taking in their stunned expressions, their fear, their uncertainty. But beneath it all, their relief at seeing me alive.

"You guys ready to take this damn place down?"

Chapter 61 - Wielder of the Night

Roksas gripped his staff in both hands, raising it high above his head before slamming it into the earth.

The ground cracked, fissures spreading outward like lightning bolts. Purple-black slime—glossy and thick—erupted from the broken stone, feathers swirling around it as it surged forward. The wave grew with each passing second, feeding on the land itself, transforming from a ripple to a wave to a tsunami of corruption.

With one powerful beat of his midnight wings, Roksas shot upward. A whirlwind formed beneath him, scattering loose debris as he rose to observe his handiwork. The purple tide surged through a gorge of green stone, racing toward a city constructed entirely of jade. Terraced buildings and spiraling towers glistened in the sunlight, their beauty soon to be erased.

Two stone guardians—massive sentinels carved from solid jade with eyes that blazed like stars—stood watch at the city's entrance. They marched toward the approaching wave, their footfalls shaking the earth. Each swung enormous fists at the encroaching corruption, but their blows merely passed through the fluid. It engulfed their arms, dissolving the stone as if it were sugar in water. Within moments, the guardians collapsed, their remains swept away in the tide.

The wave crashed against the city walls, tearing them apart. Thousands of screams erupted at once, a cacophony of terror that reached Roksas's ears even from his lofty vantage point. The corruption swept through streets and buildings, disintegrating everything in its path—stone, metal, flesh, bone. Nothing withstood its touch. The entire city vanished within the purple flow, which continued down the gorge until it evaporated, leaving nothing but bare, scorched earth in its wake.

Roksas hovered in the ensuing silence, his long robe swaying in the wind. The garment opened at the chest, revealing a torso covered in sleek black feathers that caught the light with an iridescent sheen. He used a hand—more like a taloned claw than an ugly human mitt—to brush the hem of his cloak, smoothing the fabric.

His face reflected off the smooth orb floating above the tip of his staff, his head resembling that of a massive crow, complete with a sharp, hooked beak that now ground together, mimicking the way a human might work their jaw.

His eyes—flat obsidian orbs without pupil or iris—gazed upon the destruction with perfect emptiness. No satisfaction, no regret, no emotion whatsoever disturbed the void within.

This attack wasn't personal. It was merely business.

"That should teach you never to cross me again," he murmured, his voice like gravel over silk. He’d annihilated over twenty of the Jade Wielder’s cities. Perhaps now the message would sink in.

Several loose stones began to roll across the barren landscape, gathering together, coalescing into humanoid forms. The remnants of the jade guardians attempting to reform, refusing to acknowledge their defeat.

Roksas rolled his eyes, channeling energy into his staff—a long obsidian rod topped with a pulsating blob of darkness caged within a crow's skull carved from onyx. Purple light began to gather at its center as Roksas prepared to finish the job.

A shriek suddenly tore through the air—spiritual, not physical. It raked across his senses like talons over stone, forcing him to falter. His wings flapped reflexively, feathers bursting from the force as he spun toward the sound. His eyes widened as he looked out across the vast field of green rock, past stone spires stacked like children's blocks, beyond the scattered bodies of men and women in jade armor.

As the shriek died, shock rippled through him, a feeling so foreign he almost didn't recognize it. In all his decades of life, he had never heard Azoth'Malar howl with such agony, such intense suffering.

Roksas flapped his wings, rising higher to better orient himself. His shock buzzed into an intense sense of curiosity. The Divided Kingdoms had been the last thing on his mind, especially with the Jade Wielder constantly threatening his people. But that shriek from the tower, his creation, his son…

Was another of his rivals trying to claim the Blight? Were they finally moving into the Divided Kingdoms? But why? The region was worthless compared to the vast treasures so many other lands offered.

Unless…

Unless his rivals knew something he didn't. Unless they were striking at the lesser lands he owned, trying to take him out piece by piece.

Roksas narrowed his eyes, another realization expanding in his mind. Perhaps they were attacking Azoth'Malar, and that shriek was meant to pull his attention away—to distract him from his other, more valuable territories. A perfect move. A perfect distraction.

His revenge on the Jade Wielder would have to wait, though he certainly sent a powerful message already. He wanted to check on Azoth'Malar, to see what was happening in the Divided Kingdoms…but he needed to verify that his enemies weren't using this as a diversion to strike at his most precious holdings.

He could afford to lose the Divided Kingdoms. But his other territories? They were far too valuable.

Roksas inhaled deeply, drawing in vast amounts of aura, of ambient power. His body radiated with purplish-black light, growing brighter by the second. Then, with a powerful beat of his wings, he burst away with hurricane force, flying toward his most treasured domain.

If everything was secure there, then to the tower he would go. And whoever had caused Azoth'Malar such pain would learn the true meaning of suffering.

Chapter 62 - Belly of the Beast

As everyone gathered around me, I trembled, letting out a shaky breath. The last vestiges of Vlindakh's essence trailed from my lips like dark smoke. The power from both the crown and the scythe flowed constantly through my veins, keeping me upright despite the hell I’d endured.

Archimedes looked upward, toward the open sky, the melted hole I'd created revealing a hazy blue expanse. Ariana followed his gaze but immediately shielded her eyes, squinting against the brightness. I could read the unspoken question in all their eyes.

"The tower tried to kill me," I said, my voice rough as sandpaper. The right side of my body continued to pulse with corruption, veins glowing an angry red. "It was draining my essence, feeding on me. And now, we need to kill it."

The decision felt clear and right.

I'd wondered if destroying the tower was the right choice, if it might be home to the void-eyed people. But its attempt to devour me had revealed its true nature—this was no sanctuary, but a parasite.

"How?" Ariana asked, her voice small but determined.

"We attack its heart!" Gaia's presence jittered out of me, forming beside me with a shimmer of emerald light. I noticed with unease that streaks of black and red coursed through his normally pure golden-green form. I sensed something from him—a strong displeasure, disapproval, but beneath it that same resignation I felt when I'd used Vlindakh's power.

I grimaced. I'd been justified. We both knew it. Without Vlindakh's corruption, I'd be nothing but a husk now.

"While the roots were burrowed in Kazro," Gaia continued, raising a finger, "I sensed the tower's entirety, all the way down to its roots. Down there, beneath the earth, I sensed a beating heart—its life force. That's the only way to kill it."

Everyone nodded, myself included. "We're at the very top of the tower," I said, gesturing to our surroundings. "We'll have to descend to reach it."

Gaia spread his arms wide, indicating the charred remains of the chamber. "This part of it is already dead, as you can see."

My gaze swept across the cracked black ground and walls, lingering on the corpses wrapped in withered roots. I noticed with surprise the dismembered pieces of the giant centipede we'd ridden days ago. How had they transported it here so quickly?

"This part is like a burned limb," Gaia was saying. "We could continue this method, burning away the entirety of the tower piece by piece, but striking at the heart will do the most damage."

I listened to Gaia's strategy, but my attention was drawn elsewhere. Rekhael sat off to one side, watching us with an almost contemplative expression. When his gaze met mine, his eyes widened, and he quickly looked away. I should talk with him as we move on. I need to tell him about Zerek—express my appreciation.

Nearby, several soldiers lay motionless, cut free from their bonds but apparently lifeless. No heralds. No archlords.

Then, I noticed something else—a black cocoon in the corner, thrashing and convulsing. A muffled voice screamed from inside, the sound sending a chill down my spine.

In the middle of Gaia's explanation, I strode toward it, drawn by an inexplicable curiosity. Gaia trailed off as he noticed my movement.

The cocoon was, in reality, super repulsive, its surface gleaming wetly like fresh ink. Yet, I sensed something within—two familiar auras, muffled but recognizable. I summoned my scythe and sliced it open. The cocoon splattered like wet paint, revealing people inside—someone glowing with toxic green light lying next to a hooded Drifter. They flinched, the green man hugging something emerald-gold to his chest.

My eyes widened. My jaw dropped.

"Vireth!"

The herald flinched at my shout, his yellow eyes going wide as he sat up. For a moment, we simply stared at each other in shocked silence, a wordless communication passing between us.

Then, my gaze dropped to what he clutched—a burlap sack made of emerald threads that radiated with Gaia's aura. "That's mine!" Gaia shouted, swirling around both of us before shooting upward with an excited shout.

I lunged forward, yanking Vireth to his feet and pulling him into a tight hug. He cried out, flinching as if in pain, but I couldn't contain the overwhelming light that flooded through me. Here was the herald I'd once thought a jerk, somehow appearing at our most desperate hour with another of Gaia's vestments.

"How?" I pushed back, staring into his shocked yellow eyes. "HOW!"

Vireth shook himself, as if emerging from a daze. "The Sundust Sage," he began, his words tumbling out rapidly. "He sent me to the Eldritch King's territory. I barely escaped with the vestment before getting captured."

He thrust the burlap sack toward me, and I hesitated, looking up at him questioningly. Vireth nodded fast, urging me to take it.

As soon as my fingers closed around the emerald bag, it flashed with brilliant light. Energy buzzed up my arms, sending tingles to my fingertips.

[Seeds of the Sower - ACQUIRED]

[Status: Slumbering]

[Level: 0]

[XP: 0/40 to next level]

[Campaign Quest: Five Missing Pieces]

[Gaia's divine armaments are scattered throughout the region. Find them all.]

[Objective: Locate all five of Gaia's divine armaments and transcend each one.]

[Progress: 3/5 located, 2/5 transcended]

[Reward: Ultimate Transcendence]

[Kazro]

Level: 265

Rank: F

XP:1,300

HP: 2,290/2,290

MP: 3,680/3,680

Stamina: 1,100/1,100

Attack: 1,187

Defense: 979

Speed: 550

I still had some excess XP from earlier—not much, but enough to immediately pour into the emerald sack. It glowed brighter as the power flowed into it, bonding to me on a level beyond the physical.

[Seeds of the Sower - Level 0 → Level 1]

[New Abilities Unlocked:]

• Seed Burst - Scatter magical seeds that grow into various combat plants

• Harvest Guardians - Summon small plant warriors to fight alongside you

• Spirit Call - Summon harvest spirits to amplify your abilities

• Verdant Network - Connect with plants to gather information and extend your senses

[Click Here For More Details…]

"You're at a high enough level now," Gaia said, his voice hushed with anticipation. "With three vestments, two transcended…you can break the oath."

Butterflies fluttered in my gut. “Okay.” I nodded, looking at the others. “Give me a moment guys.”

I walked several feet away, taking a deep breath, sinking into meditation, feeling the Plague Lord's oath binding me like chains around my spirit. With each breath, I became more aware of the power flowing through me from the transcended vestments.

Drawing on the crown's energy, I focused on a single link in the chain. Golden-green light flowed from my core, wrapping around the sickly green bond, crackling, sending tremors through my spirit that manifested as physical shudders. I clenched my teeth as pain blossomed behind my eyes.

"Don't push directly against it," Gaia advised. "That only strengthens the bond. Instead, assert your right to dissolve it. Decree its end."

I shifted my approach, no longer trying to break the chain through force. Instead, I envisioned myself standing above it, not as a prisoner but as a judge.

“Assert your authority!” Gaia said. “Be bold!”

I wasn’t sure what to say, but even as I thought that, the words flowed, tumbling out of my mouth. “I am Kazro, Wielder of Gaia's vestments. By the authority granted to me through these sacred artifacts, I declare this oath null and void.”

The link shuddered, its light flickering.

"Yes," Gaia whispered. “Keep going! Repeat it!”

“I am Kazro, Wielder of Gaia's vestments! By the authority granted to me through these sacred artifacts, I declare this oath null and void!” The Crown, Scythe, and bag materialized, radiating warmth, their powers intertwining through me. My spirit expanded, growing larger than the chains that bound it.

Soon, I was no longer confined by the oath—I encompassed it, contained it within my newly expanded consciousness. “This oath was forced upon me without consent or balance. It was never truly binding. I reclaim my freedom. I reclaim my will!”

The link cracked, toxic light spilling from the fissure. The Plague Lord's essence writhed, struggling to maintain its hold, but I pressed onward, wrapping the entire chain in my transcendent authority.

“I BREAK THIS OATH!”

The declaration thundered through my spirit with the force of divine law. For a moment, resistance—the Plague Lord's will pushing back, refusing to relinquish its hold. I felt his distant rage, his disbelieving fury that a mere mortal would dare defy his contract.

Then, with a sound like shattering glass that only I could hear, the chains exploded.

Pain erupted through my entire being as spirit cracked, and I screamed as both Gaia's warm essence and Vlindakh's cold corruption leaked into the fissures. The color across my skin deepened where their powers met—no longer merely red and black on one side and emerald-gold on the other, but streaks of both intertwining across my entire body, the colors richer and more vibrant than before.

[Corruption: 75%/100%]

Vlindakh's whispers grew louder in my mind. You are in way over your heads. The game you play has bigger, meaner players than you can ever imagine. Big fish, small pond.

The words sent a chill through me. My mind flashed back to the statue of that raven-headed Wielder, Roksas. How much did I not know? How many other powers were out there, watching, waiting?

I shivered, shaking out my hands.

With the contract broken, I no longer had to destroy this tower. But was leaving even an option? I thought of the terror in that void woman's eyes, looked at the corpses scattered around this chamber. The tower, Azoth’Malar, threatened the people of this land—a land on the border of a region I now had a burning desire to protect.

And in that moment, I realized the change—truly realized it. I was no longer just the Guardian of the Wilds, but of everything surrounding it: The Sundust Reaches, Gloomswallow, the Tidesong Isles—everything.

And this tower—this tyrant—forced the Voidlings to kill, to drain the life from the land. It was no better than Kal’marath or the Plague Lord. And it needed to die.

Despite breaking my oath, my resolve only strengthened. I would kill this monster, stop the spread of the Blight, and protect my region—not because I was forced to, but because I chose to.

I rose to my feet, meeting each of my companions' eyes. Archimedes nodded, a hint of pride in his eyes. But it was Ariana who moved first, rushing forward to pull me into a fierce embrace. I hugged her back even tighter, burying my face in her hair.

"I thought you were lost," she whispered into my ear, her voice breaking. "I thought you were dead. I thought I was never going to be able to tell you that I…” She hesitated, her body trembling against mine. "That I love you."

The words hit like a punch to the chest. For a moment, I couldn't breathe, couldn't think. All the battles, all the pain, all the struggle—everything fell away, leaving only this moment, only her words echoing in my mind.

My heart thundered against my ribs, a drumbeat of joy, of disbelief. The warmth that spread through me was unlike anything I'd felt before—purer than Gaia's essence, more powerful than Vlindakh's corruption. This was something entirely human, yet somehow more divine than either.

"I love you too, Ariana," I whispered back, my voice rough. “Always have, always will.”

I squeezed her tighter, drinking in the scent of her hair, the feel of her against me. Then I pulled back just enough to look into her eyes—those beautiful eyes that had seen so much pain, yet still held so much light.

Time seemed to slow as I leaned forward, pressing my lips against hers. The sensation was electric, sending currents cascading through my face and down my body. It was as if the kiss created its own kind of magic—a warmth so profound it seemed to melt away the corruption threading through my veins, easing the lingering pain, banishing the fear that had haunted me since we entered this place.

Ariana kissed back, pushing her face into mine, her hands moving from my shoulders to the sides of my face, holding me there as if afraid I might disappear. The intensity of the moment overwhelmed me—after everything we'd been through, all the danger and fear and uncertainty, this connection felt like finding safe harbor in a storm.

When we finally broke apart, we were both breathing heavily, faces flushed with color. I rested my forehead against hers, unwilling to increase the distance between us even by an inch. Her eyes searched mine, and I saw in them a mirror of my own feelings—wonder, joy, and beneath it all, a fierce determination that whatever came next, we would face it together.

Only then did I become acutely aware of everyone nearby. Some were politely looking away, giving us what privacy they could in these strange circumstances. Vireth seemed particularly interested in examining the ceiling. Was kissing such an intimate act in this world? Or was it simply the raw emotion behind it that made everyone uncomfortable?

I didn't care. In that moment, with Ariana's hands still on my face and her words still warming my heart, nothing else mattered.

I took a deep breath, smiling. So did she.

"No more time to lose," I said, gently taking her hands in mine while pulling back. After another deep breath, heart pounding, I held out my hand and summoned the scythe. The crown gleamed atop my head, and the burlap sack dangled at my waist, all three vestments humming with power.

"We march down and kill this tyrant once and for all!" I shouted, swinging the scythe in a wide arc. A glowing crescent ripped through the dead flesh of the floor, tearing open a wound.

“Let’s go!” With Ariana’s hand in mine, I jumped, descending into the belly of the beast.

Chapter 63 - Protect This Land

The Plague Lord tore across the Eldritch King's territory, power thrumming through his veins, a constant pulse that matched the beating of his corrupted heart.

Archlords and heralds on clouds scattered before him, veering wildly to avoid his path. None dared impede his progress—they knew better than to place themselves between two Wielders on a collision course.

Below, the terrain stretched out in a tapestry of devastation. The territory, one covered in trees, now lay barren—like a long-forgotten garden. As he flew, his gaze locked onto a cluster of moving figures. Spiders—massive, chitinous things—lay twitching on the frost-covered ground. Soldiers in blue bustled around them, touching and freezing them completely, others standing guard with nervous vigilance.

And there, at the epicenter of it all, stood the Baroness.

Even from this distance, her presence scraped against his senses like ice across raw flesh. She stood motionless, crystalline fingers working at her throat as she fastened something around her neck. The moment it clicked into place, it flared with blinding power. A shockwave of freezing energy slammed into the Plague Lord, knocking him back several feet.

Raw, molten rage erupted in his chest, scorching through his veins and setting every nerve alight. No… NO! That artifact—one of the ancient vestments he'd been searching for—now hung from her throat like a common trinket.

"BARONESS!" The word tore from his lips, a roar that shattered the air itself.

He plummeted, a missile of concentrated hatred, black-green energy coalescing around his clenched fists. The Frost Baroness spun, eyes widening briefly before narrowing to ice-chip slits. She thrust her hands forward, summoning a shield of ice.

Screaming, he punched at it, fist colliding in a catastrophic blast. Ice and plague, frost and rot, purity and corruption—fundamental opposites crashing together in a maelstrom of raw power. The shockwave flung the Plague Lord backward, sending him tumbling through the air like a rag doll caught in a cyclone.

His vision fractured, darkness creeping at the edges. He blinked away the spots dancing across his eyes, steadied himself, and shot forward again. The Baroness had recovered just as quickly, launching herself skyward to meet him.

They clashed in midair, him swinging his fists, her dodging the attacks—a ballet of devastation.

She was graceful, he'd give her that—each movement flowing into the next like water reshaping itself. Blades of ice materialized at her command, slashing at him with precision. He countered with green waves of corrupted energy that dissolved her constructs and sought to latch onto her pristine form.

“Lazarus, stop, LISTEN to me!” she shouted, hurling a volley of ice-spears

The Plague Lord twisted aside, letting the frozen projectiles tear through the space he'd occupied a heartbeat before. “You still want to talk?” he shot back, gathering a sphere of virulent energy between his palms. “Didn’t our last fight teach you anything?”

He was about to launch the sphere when the world…shifted.

A shriek—no, not a sound, something deeper, something that bypassed the ears entirely and clawed directly at the soul—tore through reality itself. The Plague Lord staggered, the attack forgotten as he reeled from the psychic assault.

Pain. Anguish. Desperation. The emotions weren't his, yet they ravaged his mind as if they were, raking across his consciousness with talons of purest agony. The shriek echoed on and on, reverberating through the fabric of existence, seeming to stretch into eternity.

And there, beneath the torment, was the unmistakable taste of two…no, three familiar essences.

Gaia’s. Vlindakh’s.

Kazro’s.

The Plague Lord hung suspended in the air, staring out across the Blight toward the scream's origin, a frown etching deep lines into his masked face.

What…was that? For all his power, for all his dominion over this realm, the Blight remained a mystery even to him—its depths unfathomed, its secrets jealously guarded.

But that shriek, that essence… Kazro had done something. Something catastrophic. He'd shattered a cry of distress into the eternities themselves, sending ripples through realities that should never have been touched.

"There are bigger threats beyond us than we can ever imagine!" The Frost Baroness's shout cut through his thoughts. He spun to face her, having forgotten her in the face of that cosmic disturbance.

Her words echoed their earlier argument—one he'd dismissed, one he'd been determined to ignore. But now…

"That wasn't just a cry of pain," she continued, her voice carrying across the distance between them. "It was a distress signal!"

The Plague Lord couldn't argue. He'd sensed it, too. Dread crept through him like a living thing, a cold serpent slithering along his spine and spreading into his limbs. In all his existence, he'd never felt anything quite like it.

"We must set aside our differences!" The Baroness drifted closer, her eyes burning with intensity. "Help one another! Protect this land together!"

He watched her, saying nothing. Every instinct screamed against the idea of cooperation, of allowing her any advantage. He'd fought too long, schemed too carefully to simply abandon his quest for total domination.

And yet…

The truth he'd always known pressed in on him with newfound urgency. They existed in a forgotten region, a backwater in a world of Wielders so powerful they defied comprehension. Their obscurity had been their shield, but that shield was cracking. It was only a matter of time before their little realm drew the attention of beings that could snuff them out with a thought.

As much as he longed to rule supreme, to gather enough power to face any interlopers who might arrive…he knew. Deep in the corrupted core of what had once been his heart, he knew that uniting their strength was their only chance.

Finding the vestments together. Helping one another. And yes—his jaw clenched at the thought—even including Kazro in that alliance.

It was the only way forward.

And he hated it.

Chapter 64 - Healing Eyes

Carson dangled from the ceiling, his vision shattered like a mirror struck with a hammer. The pools below smeared into watercolor blurs, disconnected patches of color that refused to form a coherent whole. His body hung limp and numb, a shell of flesh that might as well belong to someone else. No sensation. No feeling. Nothing but the hollow absence where life should be.

A massive, pulsing sound echoed through the chamber—thud-THUD, thud-THUD—the beating of some colossal heart that seemed to rattle the very air. But Carson barely registered it.

His cracked mind could only replay the fight with Kazro, images flickering like a damaged film reel. Throwing punches. Feeling bones crack beneath his knuckles. The warm spray of blood. The shock in Kazro's face. All of it played over and over, a broken record stuck in the groove of violence. Yet even in victory, even after beating Kazro to a pulp, there was…nothing. No satisfaction. No peace. No relief from the howling void inside.

Only hot, hellish torment. Only the endless, gnawing ache that devoured him from within, a hunger that could never be sated, a thirst that would never know quenching. It clawed at the inside of his skull, raked lines of fire down the phantom nerves of his deadened body. Pain without the courtesy of physical sensation—the worst kind of agony.

But there had been something else in that fight, something in Kazro's eyes.

Light.

Not just the physical glow of those strange, inhuman orbs. Something deeper. Something that went beyond the mere reflection of illumination. A warmth, a presence, a…wholeness that Carson couldn't understand but found himself inexplicably drawn to. Like a moth to flame, like a starving man to the scent of bread, like a damned man to the promise of salvation.

The sudden, overwhelming urge to rip those eyes out flooded Carson's fragmented soul. To gouge them from their sockets. To consume them. To make that light his own, to fill the cavernous emptiness inside him with that glow, to end the—

The tower SHRIEKED.

Carson flinched violently, his soul and eardrums seeming to tear in tandem. The sound was beyond sound—a cosmic wail of agony that bypassed the ears entirely and scraped directly across the fractured surface of his spirit. The massive heartbeat above accelerated, pounding faster, harder, each contraction sending tremors through the air.

He twisted his neck, straining against the roots that held him. There it was—an enormous, pulsating mass of glistening tissue adhered to the distant ceiling. Veins thick as tree trunks dangled from it, disappearing into the walls, floor, and pools below.

The heart of the tower.

The source of its life.

Shouts erupted from below. The people wading in the pools or strolling around their edges were standing up, faces turned skyward, expressions twisted with panic and confusion. As Carson watched with strange detachment, gooey, raven-headed figures began materializing, their bodies half-formed and dripping, beaks clacking in agitation.

The tower's emotions washed over him—rage, fear, pain, desperation. A jumble of primal sensations so intense they nearly drowned out his own fractured thoughts. And somehow, through the chaos, Carson knew immediately, instinctively, who was responsible.

Kazro.

Carson's heart pounded wildly in his chest, a desperate, thumping thing that seemed determined to burst. It felt as though it was bleeding, coming apart fiber by fiber with each frantic beat. He thrashed against his restraints, trying to break free, to move, to—

The roots tightened their grip. They squeezed mercilessly, crushing the breath from his lungs. Then, with deliberate malice, they drove deeper into his flesh, burrowing like living needles. The moment they punctured, liquid fire began pouring into him—raw life essence flooding through his veins in a torrent of molten agony.

Carson cried out, twisting away from the roots as much as his bonds would allow. It was futile. The essence continued pumping into him, setting every cell ablaze. His back arched, muscles seizing as the foreign energy saturated his system.

The scream building in his throat erupted into a howl of pure anguish. His mind, already fractured, began to splinter further, hairline cracks spiderwebbing across his consciousness. Everything burned—body, mind, soul—all of it consumed in a furnace of unbearable sensation. His thoughts melted, reality dissolved, his very sense of self disintegrating under the onslaught.

His vision shattered further, the world breaking into countless disconnected fragments, a kaleidoscope of pain and color with no pattern or meaning.

And through it all, through the melting and breaking and burning, one image remained clear. One thought held firm as everything else evaporated into the inferno.

Those eyes.

Kazro's eyes.

Those wholesome, healing eyes. Those eyes that looked at him like no one else ever had—with recognition, with understanding. With pity.

He would have them.

He would consume them.

He would make their light his own.

Chapter 65 - Parasites

I fell through the air, my cloak flapping wildly behind me. I gripped the scythe tightly, and it pulsed with brilliant emerald light, lighting up my companions as they plunged alongside me.

Ariana's face was set in grim determination, her hair whipping around her head in a dark halo. Archimedes descended with surprising grace, his robes billowing dramatically, while the Rekhael tumbled with less control, his ruby eyes wide with alarm. Vireth, Scarlet, and Kli'Taka all carved their own paths through the open space, alongside soldiers in green armor, all of us hurtling toward an uncertain landing.

I glanced down toward the upcoming, fleshy chamber. This one throbbed with life—veins thick as my arm crisscrossed slimy walls, pulsing with vibrant blue essence. Threads of emerald and gold swirled through the luminous channels, with occasional flashes of angry red. The whole room seemed to expand, to breathe, to live with grotesque vitality.

As the floor rushed up to meet us, I reared back and swung my scythe in a wide arc. The blade flashed, and emerald energy ripped through the air, slashing into the ground below. A roar echoed from everywhere at once—not a sound so much as a feeling that rattled my teeth and vibrated through my bones.

The wound I'd torn in the floor squeezed itself closed almost immediately, muscle and sinew knitting together with horrifying speed. A translucent blue shield blossomed across the surface, rippling outward like waves in a pond.

Still falling, I slashed again, but my crescent scattered against it in a spray of harmless sparks. Cursing, I twisted in midair, positioning my feet beneath me. I hit the shield with jarring force, my knees buckling slightly before I regained my balance.

The others landed around me with varying degrees of grace. Ariana touched down like she'd practiced it a thousand times, while Archimedes floated more than fell, his descent controlled by some arcane force. Vireth crashed down in a crouch, his impact sending tremors across the shield's surface.

We scanned our surroundings simultaneously, weapons at the ready. Veins pulsed along the walls, the ceiling, the floor beneath the shield—everything alive, everything watching. Tunnel openings yawned at intervals around the chamber's circumference, dark mouths leading deeper into the tower's guts.

A whisper slithered through my mind, oily and seductive. I could devour that shield for you, Vlindakh said. Let me help…

I glanced down at my arms, where corruption marks mottled my skin like bruises. The gauge hovered at 73%—far too close to the point of no return. The memory of that cold, crawling darkness spreading through my veins made me shudder.

"This way!" I shouted, ignoring the god, hurrying toward the nearest tunnel. The others followed, a ragtag army united by desperate purpose. My feet pounded against the shield, each step sending ripples of blue light outward.

Vireth caught up to me with startling speed, matching my stride effortlessly. There was something different in his eyes now—something I hadn't noticed when I'd first woken in that cave. A kind of reverence, a respect that seemed to glow from within.

"What's the plan?" he asked, voice low and urgent.

Right. He hadn't been there for our earlier discussion. "There's a heart at the bottom of this tower," I said, taking a deep breath. "I need to deliver the killing blow. Everyone else supports."

He nodded without question, a grim smile twisting his lips. "Consider it done."

We ran in silence for a few paces, the only sounds our labored breathing and the squelch of our boots against the fleshy floor. Then, unable to contain my curiosity, I blurted, "Why did you do it?"

Vireth glanced at me, brow furrowed. "Do what?"

"Why did you leave the Plague Lord for me?"

His expression shifted, eyes widening with something that looked almost like shock before settling into something more measured. "Because you're the leader I always wanted," he said simply, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "A protector who cares about nothing else but to protect.” He was silent a moment. “That's what this region needs. That’s what the world needs.”

I blinked, nodding. A protector. He saw me as a protector. It was one thing seeing that in myself, but to have Vireth see it, too? But that's what I was becoming, wasn't it? Not just for Ariana or my immediate companions, but for this entire region. And they all expected that. They all fought for that.

The realization swept through me, crystallizing a truth I'd been dancing around. I wanted to protect this land. All of it. Gaian City, the Wilds, the Sundust Reaches, everything—even the blighted areas corrupted beyond recognition. This was my home now, my responsibility. And destroying this tower would strike a massive blow against the Blight, giving this region a fighting chance.

Power surged through me at the thought, a heady rush of purpose and clarity that seemed to make my very blood sing. This was right. This was what I was meant to do.

I dismissed my scythe with a thought, reaching out to grasp Ariana's hand as she ran beside me. She squeezed my fingers, her palm warm against mine, and when our eyes locked, her smile was radiant, fierce, proud. Heat bloomed in my chest, pushing back the ever-present chill of Vlindakh's corruption.

Glancing over my shoulder, I caught sight of Archimedes running alongside Rekhael, their heads bent together in quiet conversation. Their expressions were subdued but determined, shoulders no longer carrying quite the same burden they had been. Even Scarlet and Kli'Taka seemed more buoyant, their movements lighter somehow, as if shedding invisible weights with every step.

We were healing. All of us. Finding a path forward through the darkness.

Gaia swooped ahead of us like a verdant comet, his form more detailed, more vibrant than ever before, thanks to the new vestment secured at my waist. The burlap sack bounced against my hip with each stride, its contents radiating power that made my skin itched, eager to be unleashed.

Feeling the itch to try out your new toys? Gaia's voice echoed in my mind, colored with knowing amusement. He glanced back, a smile playing across his ethereal features. Trust me, kid, they'll blow your mind. But save it for when we really need it.

I nodded, refocusing on the path ahead. We were descending deeper with every step, the walls around us rippling with muscle and laced with pulsing veins. Hell, those were disgusting—constant reminders that this was no mere tower—it was a living creature of impossible scale, and we were parasites burrowing toward its heart.

A sour stench hit my nostrils as we rounded a bend—acrid and burning, like vomit mixed with battery acid. I gagged, bile rising in my throat.

Vireth groaned beside me. "I know that smell anywhere," he said, voice tight.

The walls had begun to seep a steaming, yellowish liquid that hissed where it touched the floor. Stomach acid. We'd entered the digestive tract of this monstrosity.

I summoned my scythe again, directing its energy outward to form a protective dome—Group Shield. The emerald barrier snapped into place just as a wave of acid splashed down from above, sizzling harmlessly against the magical protection. It split, enveloping everyone in their own shields.

As the acid drained away, I spotted movement ahead. Figures marching toward us—humanoid but not human. Their skin was a deep orange, almost copper, and their eyes…their eyes were voids of pure, depthless blue. Magical mist swirled from their outstretched hands, but their faces were contorted with unmistakable terror.

Recognition slammed into me. They looked almost identical to the pale-skinned, dark-eyed beings who had attacked us earlier—the same build, the same movements, just a palette swap. And the same fear etched into their features.

They weren't attacking us by choice. They were being forced to fight.

Just another reason to end this tower's tyranny.

I sensed my team tensing for battle—Ariana’s bug-legs twitching as she bared her teeth, Archimedes gathering power, Vireth crouching low.

"Don't kill any of them!" I shouted, the command tearing from my throat with surprising force.

Surprise flickered across their faces, confusion in their eyes.

"DON'T KILL THEM!" I repeated, voice cracking with the strain. "They're not our enemies!"

And then, I saw her—the void-eyed woman we'd encountered earlier, with her pale skin and shadow-dark hair. She was being jostled among the orange-skinned fighters, treated roughly, shoved forward like cannon fodder. My blood boiled at the sight. Even among the tower's servants, there was a cruel hierarchy, a system of oppression within oppression.

Drawing on my divine power, I slammed the haft of my scythe into the fleshy ground. "Sovereign's Command!" The crown atop my head flared with golden-green light as mist blasted outward.

Every single one of the advancing figures froze mid-step, then collapsed to the ground like puppets with cut strings. All, except the void-eyed woman, whom I intentionally spared from the effect.

I approached her cautiously, stepping over orange-skinned Voidlings, hand extended. "You want out of this?"

Her face crumpled, tears streaming from those bottomless eyes. With a strangled sound somewhere between a sob and a scream, she lunged at me—not attacking, but embracing me with desperate strength. Her body trembled against mine, her face buried in my shoulder as she wept.

I returned the embrace briefly, awkwardly, before gently setting her on Scarlet's back. "She'll keep you safe," I promised, giving my companion's fur a quick stroke.

Around us, the orange-skinned fighters struggled to rise, their movements sluggish and uncoordinated. They stared at us—at me—with naked shock, as if they'd witnessed something impossible.

"Keep moving!" I ordered, already sprinting ahead. We couldn't afford to linger, not with the tower aware of our presence.

Up ahead, more shapes emerged from the gloom—crab-like creatures with thick orange carapaces that looked more like stone than shell. They skittered toward us on pointed legs, claws raised menacingly.

I reached into the burlap sack at my waist, fingers closing around what felt like rough seeds. I flung them forward without hesitation, watching in amazement as they burst upon hitting the ground. Tiny green shoots erupted from the impact points, growing with impossible speed into miniature plant creatures—humanoid, with heads and limbs like intertwining vines. They let out a high-pitched battle-cry and charged the approaching enemies.

My scythe flashed as I ran amongst my botanical vanguard, cutting through the first crab-creature I reached. Its carapace split with a satisfying crack, green energy searing through its innards. XP notifications flickered at the edge of my vision, but I barely registered them, already moving to the next target.

The plant warriors launched at it, latching onto carapace crawling toward joints. Crabs shrieked as vines pushed their way through openings, burrowing into flesh.

I swung my scythe at another crab, then another. We fought our way forward, each covering the others' weaknesses, a well-oiled machine of destruction. By the time we reached the next chamber, the floor behind was littered with broken carapaces and crushed plant warriors.

A familiar interface materialized before me—a map, courtesy of Gaia, who had somehow sensed the tower's layout through our connection. It showed five main floors, with us currently on the third. Two more levels to go before we'd reach B1, where the heart pulsed, waiting for us.

The void-eyed woman had stopped her hysterical sobbing, but black tears still streaked her pale cheeks as she clung to Scarlet's fur. "You need to get out," she gasped between shuddering breaths. "This place is sacred to Roksas. He absorbs power from here—draws it like a parasite!"

I nearly stumbled at her words, pieces clicking together in my mind. "The tower sucks life from the land," I realized aloud, "absorbs it, and feeds it to Roksas? That's why everything around here is blighted?"

She nodded frantically. "He takes and takes and takes. The land dies while he grows stronger."

Rage built inside me, hot and clarifying. Another reason to end this abomination.

We burst into the next chamber—larger than the previous ones, its ceiling lost in shadow high above. Blobs of viscous goo dotted the floor, rising and reshaping as we watched, forming into those awful raven-people with their stretched wings and too-long limbs.

Spikes jutted from the walls at irregular intervals, glistening with some unknown substance. And above it all, embedded in the distant ceiling, a massive eye blinked wetly, its pupil contracting as it fixed on us .

I raised my scythe, its emerald glow lighting up the place.

These were the oppressors. The tyrants.

And it was time to show them what happens when a Transcendent goes to war.

Chapter 66 - My People, My Home

"Leave while you still have a chance!" the gooey raven person shouted, spittle like black ink spraying from its beak. "Leave before he arrives! If you do, he may have mercy on you!"

I stood tall before them, my weapon outstretched, emerald mist swirling around the scythe's familiar form. The weapon hummed with power, sending vibrations up my arm that steadied my nerves even as my heart hammered against my ribs.

Leave while you still have a chance…

Roksas. The Wielder of this land. The name conjured a black image in my mind, a dark face to attach to the growing dread creeping through my veins. An unknown Wielder with unknown powers and strengths. My stomach twisted into knots, a cold sweat breaking out across my forehead. Not quite terror—I'd faced enough genuine horrors to know the difference—but a deep, primal unease that set my hands trembling.

But if I didn't take out this tower, that Wielder would arrive and suck up all the energy it had stored. A power boost I couldn't allow. Still, the thought of facing a Wielder at full strength sent a shiver through me, but then…

A realization struck me like lightning, crackling through my mind and down my spine. My thoughts seemed to expand, buzzing with sudden clarity and possibility.

What if I took the power stored here for myself?

Instead of destroying the tower's heart, what if I absorbed its energy? Magnified my power? Became the guardian this region so desperately needed? The very idea made my skin tingle, my breath coming faster as the possibilities unfolded before me.

"Step aside," I said, my voice steadier than I felt. "I don't want to hurt you."

The ravens tilted their heads in eerie unison, beaks clacking. "Hurt us?" One of them let out a sound like laughter. “You are nothing but insects to squash.”

Movement at the chamber's periphery caught my eye. The orange-skinned people with their blue void eyes were filing in through side passages, taking positions along the walls. More creatures scuttled in through holes in the ceiling—centipede-like things with too many legs and glowing red eyes.

As I watched this assembly of forces, a sickening realization dawned. These raven creatures weren't just servants of the tower—they were its enforcers. They were the ones who’d been shadowing us, who forced the orange-skinned and pale-skinned people to fight against their will.

Anger bloomed in my chest, hot and fierce. I'd wasted precious time trying to reason with tyrants.

"You are oppressors!" I shouted, my voice amplified by Gaia’s power. "You force people to do things against their will! You crush the heads of those you should be protecting!"

The injustice of it all grated against principles I'd taken for granted back home—freedom, choice, self-determination. Things this tower and its minions trampled without a second thought. The thought was so quintessentially American that it almost made me laugh, despite the tension.

When I'm through here, I promised silently, I'm going to make sure the Divided Kingdoms are governed with freedom, liberty, and justice for all. I promise you this!

Oh, I believe you, Gaia whispered back, and I could hear the smile in his voice. And I can’t wait for you to make good on that.

"Enough talk," the lead raven gurgled, its form shifting and bulging. "Time to die."

It lunged at me, movements unnaturally fast. I brought my scythe up in a fluid arc, green energy trailing behind the blade as it sliced through the air. The raven twisted aside at the last moment, but not quickly enough. A glancing blow sent black goo spattering across the floor.

As I spun, I saw my companions form a defensive circle. Ariana's hands glowed with golden power, Archimedes' staff whirling in complex patterns. Vireth moved like a shadow, spears flashing. Rekhael unsheathed an obsidian blade, while Scarlet and soldiers readied themselves.

Watch out! Gaia shouted.

A second raven swooped at me from the left. I ducked under its attack and spun, calling on the Crown's power. "Sovereign's Command!" Golden light erupted from my forehead, mist washing over the creature. It staggered, then slammed to the floor, movements suddenly sluggish.

Nice, kid! Gaia swirled around me in his spectral form But watch your left!

I pivoted just in time to block the third raven's punch, the impact jarring my arms. I swung my scythe, scaring him back. As I swung again, activating Crescent Slash, when I felt something strange—a binding sensation. The feeling was unmistakable, like having a limb suddenly go numb.

[Night Binding]

[Crescent Strike - BOUND]

I frowned, glancing off to the right. One of the ravens held out its hands toward me, darkness radiating from its claws.

"They're locking my moves!" I shouted, disengaging from the closest enemy and leaping backward.

“Try another,” Gaia suggested.

I nodded, calling on the Crown again. "Mind's Dominion!" But as I reached for the power, I felt the same binding sensation.

[Night Binding]

[Mind’s Dominion - BOUND]

I tried a third ability—"Verdant Dominion!"—only to find it similarly bound. All three of the ravens had their hands held out toward me, black mist flowing from claws.

“They can only lock three at a time!” Gaia realized. “There's only three of them. Use something else!”

Understanding flashed through me. I reached into the burlap sack at my waist, fingers closing around a handful of seeds. With a sharp motion, I scattered them across the floor. "Harvest Guardians!”

The seeds erupted into growth, tiny plant warriors, each one sprouting from the ground with weapons of thorn and vine. They charged the nearest enemies, crying out, buying me precious seconds.

I closed my eyes for just a moment, drawing on my meditation training. My Mind Core pulsed in response, crystalline and perfect at the center of my consciousness. Thoughts sharpened to razor precision. Time seemed to slow as my perception accelerated, allowing me to track every movement, anticipate every attack.

The lead raven screeched, its body reconfiguring into something more monstrous—limbs stretching, beak splitting into serrated jaws. It launched at me with blinding speed, but to my enhanced perception, it might as well have been moving through molasses.

I saw the trajectory of its attack, calculated the optimal counter. Six potential moves presented themselves in my mind simultaneously, and I selected the most efficient. With a fluid sidestep, I let the creature's momentum carry it past me, then pivoted and slammed my scythe's haft into what passed for its spine.

The impact sent it face-first into the fleshy floor with a wet splat. Before it could recover, I brought the blade down, slicing clean through its wing joint. Black ichor erupted from the wound as it screamed—a sound like metal being torn apart.

Don't let up! Gaia urged.

The second raven dove from above, its body rippling with strange sigils that burned with sickly purple light. Its attack pattern flashed into my mind seconds before it executed the move—a feint to the left followed by a right lunge.

I met the feint as if it were the real attack, then twisted at the last possible moment as the creature adjusted. My scythe flashed, enhanced by Gaia's power, and caught the raven mid-lunge. The blade sank deep into its torso, and I wrenched it sideways, tearing a gaping hole in its form.

The creature shrieked, collapsing in on itself as it tried desperately to maintain cohesion. It dragged itself away, leaving a trail of black ooze in its wake.

The third raven circled warily, watching as my plant warriors tore through attacking centipedes, holding orange-skinned Voidlings back. My companions were dealing with them, too.

The raven’s eyes—pinpricks of baleful purple light in pools of darkness—assessed me with a cold intelligence that sent shivers down my spine.

This one's smarter, Gaia warned. Don't get cocky.

It attacked without warning, not lunging but seemingly melting toward me, its form elongating into a whip-like appendage. My enhanced perception caught the movement, but my body barely had time to react. The living tendril wrapped around my ankle and yanked.

I crashed to the ground, the impact knocking the wind from my lungs. The creature was on me in an instant, its beak morphing into a serrated blade aimed at my throat.

My Mind Core pulsed, slowing time further. I could see every droplet of ichor falling from its form, count every serration on its blade-beak. With perfect clarity, I saw the exact moment to strike.

Emerald energy erupted from my fist as I brought it up, catching the raven square in the chest. The blast tore through it, severing it in half, sending its upper portion spinning through the air. It landed with a sickening splat against a far wall.

Impossibly, both halves continued to move, goo flowing back together as the creature attempted to reform. But it was badly damaged, its essence leaking faster than it could regenerate.

The first raven—the one I'd wounded in the wing—had managed to heal somewhat. It launched a desperate attack, talons extended. With my Mind Core still active, I saw every opening in its defense. I ducked under its strike and slashed upward, my blade cleaving through its chest. The wound glowed with emerald fire that ate away at its substance.

It screeched in agony and lurched backward, dragging its dissolving form toward the nearest exit.

The third raven, cut in half and still struggling to reform, followed its companion's example. It abandoned the fight, sliding across the floor in a puddle of its own essence, retreating through a crack in the wall.

Around me, the battle raged. My allies fought the monsters while carefully dealing with the orange-skinned people—knocking them back rather than killing them, just as I'd asked. Guilt twisted in my gut every time one of them cried out in pain. They were victims, not enemies.

"You don't have to fight!" I shouted to them. "You don't have to trust in tyrants like this tower or these ravens! You could put your faith in someone much stronger, much more loving—a god you can rely on!"

Gaia flared brightly around me, his light reaching toward the orange-skinned fighters. “Laying it on a bit thick there, don't you think?” he said, but I could hear the pride in his voice. “Just don’t go— Watch out!”

A raven lunged for me, its beak aimed at my throat. Time slowed further as my Mind Core kicked into overdrive. I saw the attack coming as if in slow motion, saw the opening in its defense, the perfect angle of counterattack.

"Phantom Reap!" I called, and my scythe blade erupted with spectral energy.

One clean slice. That was all it took. The raven let out a strangled gurgle as it fell, its form losing cohesion, black ichor splattering across the floor in a grotesque pattern.

[+4,500 XP]

I barely had time to register the stats flickering in my vision before Ariana was at my side, grabbing my hand.

"We need to move!" she urged, pointing toward a tunnel on the far side of the chamber. "More are coming!"

Sure enough, the sounds of pursuit echoed from tunnels—clicking beaks, skittering legs, hissing breaths. We raced toward a tunnel on the other side, my heart pounding in my ears, a countdown ticking in my head. How long until Roksas arrived? Were the ravens just spouting empty threats, or was the Wielder truly on his way?

As we ran through the tunnel, I glanced back at our group. The void-eyed woman clung to Scarlet's back, her face streaked with black tears. Zerek's brother limped slightly, blood seeping from a gash in his side. Vireth’s clothes were tattered at the edges, and even Archimedes looked worn, his normally pristine robes stained and torn.

Without breaking stride, I summoned healing energy from the Crown. "Verdant Beacon!”

Verdant Beacon

Type: Healing Aura | Radius: 20 feet | Burnout: 40%

Effect: Summons a pillar of emerald light at a target location, healing allies in its radius for 100 HP over 8 seconds.

Special: Allies within the light are immune to crowd control effects for the duration.

Green light washed over us all, sealing wounds, restoring vitality. The relief on their faces was immediate, and something warm bloomed in my chest at the sight.

Rekhael watched me with undisguised awe, his ruby eyes wide. Something about that look stirred memories of Zerek himself—our fights, his grudging respect, his sacrifice at the end. The connection between us, forged in battle and sealed in blood.

And it wasn't just him. In that moment, faces flashed through my mind—the people of the Sundust Reaches, the Heralds Nyvara and Sveric from the Baroness's realm, the wrinkly-skinned, leafy-haired slaves of Gloomswallow, even the spiders with human heads.

All of them. All of these people from this fractured, beautiful, terrible region. My heart swelled with a fierce, protective love that surprised me with its intensity. These were my people now. This was my home. And I would defend it with every fiber of my being.

A cry tore from my throat as I pushed myself harder, legs pumping, lungs burning. The others matched my pace, driven by the same desperate urgency.

As we ran, I reached for the burlap sack again, channeling XP into it.

[Seeds of the Sower – Level Up!]

<Level 1 → Level 2>

[New Abilities Unlocked:]

[Treant Guardians – Summon tree warriors (Cost: 100 MP)]

[Enhanced Guardians – Summon harvest spirits combined with harvest guardians (Cost: 150 MP)

[Flowering Armory – Create weapons of living plant matter (Cost: 75 MP)]

[Burnout Upgrade: 1000% → 1100%]

The corruption gauge ticked down another percentage point, a small victory claimed through continuous meditation. It was slow progress, painfully slow, but it was something. I could feel Vlindakh's awareness pressing against my consciousness, eager and anticipating, as if waiting for me to falter.

Not today, I thought grimly. Not ever.

We burst through another chamber, barely pausing to deal with the creatures that rose to challenge us. The map flashed in my mind—we were heading for Floor One, the level directly above B1 where the heart pulsed, waiting for us.

So close now. So terrifyingly close.

But even as determination drove me forward, fear clawed at my insides. Were we moving fast enough? Was Roksas already on his way, racing to claim the power that rightfully belonged to this region—the power I now intended to claim for myself?

And if we did meet, what then? What kind of Wielder commanded a monstrosity like this tower? What kind of power did he have?

Questions for later.

All I could do was run.

Run, and pray he didn’t show up.

Chapter 67 - Down Its Guts

I entered the next chamber and froze.

Millions of teeth lined the walls—jagged, yellowed spikes protruding from pulsing flesh. Another massive eye clung to the ceiling, its pupil contracting as it fixed on our group. The sight sent a fresh wave of revulsion crawling up my gut.

"Keep moving," I urged the others, forcing my legs into motion again. My feet splashed through puddles of viscous fluid.

Getting close now, kid, Gaia whispered in my mind, his presence warm and encouraging. I can feel the heart's pulse from here.

Glowing veins threaded through the walls, pulsing with that vibrant blue essence. I stared at them, plan taking shape in my mind, one I couldn't share aloud with the others.

You're thinking about claiming the power yourself, aren't you? Gaia's voice held no judgment, only curiosity. Instead of just destroying the heart.

Of course you heard that, I thought back, careful to keep my expression neutral as we advanced.

Kid, we're bonded. You think real loud when you're excited. A mental chuckle. For what it's worth, I'm not opposed to the idea. More power to defend the region? Seems like a win-win.

I hesitated, the next part of my plan more difficult to voice, even mentally. I…might need to use Vlindakh's absorption ability again.

Gaia's presence flared with alarm. Absolutely not! Your corruption gauge is already too high. There's got to be another way.

Like what?

I've been thinking about that Carson kid—how he got so strong so fast.

My heart skipped at the mention of Carson. Where was he now? Was he in this tower somewhere? The memory of our last encounter burned fresh in my mind—his face twisted with rage and something else…something, almost like recognition, veins glowing along his face.

Veins, glowing blue, I realized suddenly, eyes fixing on the glowing veins again. Carson had that same energy flowing through him. The tower was feeding him somehow.

Exactly, Gaia confirmed. Which means if we get to the heart directly…

I can absorb that power without using Vlindakh's corruption.

Now you're getting it.

A distant rumbling interrupted our silent conversation. The walls began to shudder, and the eye on the ceiling rolled wildly in its socket.

"Watch out!" Ariana shouted, pointing to openings that had suddenly appeared between the teeth.

Glowing, yellow, viscous liquid began to pour from the holes—more of that stomach acid. It hissed where it touched the floor, eating through the fleshy surface.

"Everyone to me!" I commanded, extending my arms. The others scrambled closer—Ariana, Archimedes, Vireth, Rekhael, Kli'Taka, Scarlet with the void-eyed woman still clinging to her back, and the soldiers, all of them fitting within our circle.

"Eternal Bastion!" I shouted, pushing more power into it than ever before. The emerald barrier expanded outward, forming a protective dome made of interlocking hexagons. The acid slammed against it, running down in steaming rivulets that pooled at the edges.

For a moment, I thought we were safe. Then, the walls began to close in, the millions of teeth pressing against my shield from all sides.

"It's trying to digest us," Archimedes said, his voice tight with concentration as he pressed his hands against the shield, fire flickering across its surface as he added his own power to our defense.

Still, the shield began to crack under the relentless pressure, hairline fractures spreading across its surface like a spiderweb. My burnout gauge ticked upward rapidly—167%, 272%, 478%—as I poured more energy into maintaining the barrier.

"I can't hold it much longer!" My arms shook with the strain, sweat pouring down my face.

“Use the scythe, kid!” Gaia urged. “Emerald Tempest!”

I nodded grimly, summoning my weapon. "Everyone stay close!" With a spinning motion, I activated one of my most powerful abilities. "Emerald Tempest!"

The scythe blazed with power, emerald energy spiraling outward in a massive, churning vortex. The attack tore through the pressing teeth, ripping them from the walls, shredding flesh and sinew. Blood sprayed in all directions, splattering against our shield in a grotesque rain.

The tower shrieked—not the soul-rending howl from before, but still loud enough to make my ears ring. The entire chamber bucked and heaved like a living thing, the floor rippling beneath us.

"Hold on!" I shouted, but it was too late.

The sudden violent movement threw us in different directions. My concentration broke, and with it, my shield. I tumbled across the slick floor, scrabbling for purchase as my companions were similarly scattered.

Massive holes appeared along the walls, opening and closing. Before I could regain my footing, I found myself sliding toward one of these openings.

"Ariana!" I reached for her, our fingertips brushing for the briefest moment before the tower's convulsions tore us apart.

I rolled then slid headfirst into one of the openings, the muscular walls sealing shut behind me with sickening finality. I slid down a slick, organic tunnel, careening downward, unable to stop my descent.

Exhaustion crashed over me in waves. My burnout gauge hovered dangerously at 989%, my MP nearly depleted after sustaining the shield and unleashing the Emerald Tempest. Even if I'd wanted to fight my way back, I lacked the strength right now. The corruption marks on my arms throbbed with dark promise, as if Vlindakh sensed my weakness.

I managed to form a smaller shield around myself as I slid through the tunnel, protecting my body from the caustic fluids that lined the passage. The shield flickered with each passing second, my remaining energy stretched to its limit.

As I plummeted deeper into the tower's guts, one thought burned in my mind: I was sliding down, straight toward the heart—exactly where I needed to go.

But would I have any strength left when I got there?

Chapter 68 - Illusions of Reality

Ariana tucked her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around them as she slid through a slick tunnel. An emerald force field enveloped her in a protective cocoon, though it cracked and wavered as the tunnel walls squeezed inward. Instead of stopping her descent, the increasing pressure only accelerated it.

The muscular walls pulsed and contracted, pushing her ever downward. The shield groaned under the strain, hairline fractures spreading across its surface like ice breaking on a pond. She could feel Kazro's essence in the barrier—warm, protective, desperate. The thought of him sent a fresh spike of worry through her chest. Where was he now? Had he been swallowed by—

Without warning, the tunnel ended. Ariana burst from an opening and hit the ground hard. The impact knocked the breath from her lungs. Gasping, she shook her head, vision swimming as she tried to reorient herself.

Orange-red grainy dirt pressed against her palms. Raising her gaze, she found several deep, dark blue pools spread across the vast chamber. The air hung heavy with humidity, carrying the acrid stench of sulfur that burned her nostrils and made her eyes water.

Something about the scene—the steaming pools, the colored earth—reminded her of Yosemite's hot springs, a memory from another life that felt impossibly distant now.

Lying there, she noticed something else, too. A vibration, throbbing through the ground beneath her, matched by a rhythmic sound that filled the chamber—thud-THUD, thud-THUD. Like a beating heart. She raised her eyes slowly, following the sound to its source.

There, clinging to the distant ceiling, hung a massive, pulsing…organ? Its surface glistened wetly, thick veins spreading outward like the roots of some grotesque tree. As she watched, goosebumps prickling across her flesh, tentacles emerged from the surrounding tissue, wrapping protectively around the heart.

The sight was so fundamentally wrong, so alien and obscene that bile rose in her throat. She swallowed hard, forcing down the nausea that threatened to overwhelm.

But it wasn't just the heart that caught her attention. Other tentacles stretched downward from the ceiling, not far from the central mass. They enveloped something—someone—crackling with blue electricity shot through with red-violet light. The static charge filled the air, raising the fine hairs on her arms and sending prickles across her scalp. Her spider legs twitched involuntarily, sensing the power radiating from the cocooned figure.

Blue-violet eyes glowed within the squirming mass of tentacles. Eyes, she knew. Eyes, that haunted her nightmares.

As the fleshy coils slowly receded, revealing the figure's wrinkly face, Ariana's heart stuttered. Carson. His face was barely recognizable—fractured like shattered porcelain and held together with what looked like glowing blue glue. The leaves that had once crowned his head were burned to blackened crisps.

Following his gaze across the chamber, Ariana spotted a figure emerging from another opening in the wall—a silhouette wreathed in emerald and gold light.

Kazro.

Her heart leapt, then immediately constricted. Pounded. Hammered so intensely, it made her dizzy. The hatred she still harbored for Carson—the boy who had murdered her, who had taken her life and her future—burned like acid in her chest. She’d prayed to have this poison removed from her heart, had begged for release from this toxic anger, but seeing him now…

How could she let go when he dangled there, eyes fixed on Kazro—eyes, hungry for blood. The boy she loved was in danger, and the monster who’d killed her was preparing to strike again.

Ariana rose slowly to her feet, her eight spider legs unfolding. She took a step forward, then froze as something else caught her eye.

At the center of the chamber, a circle of gooey black raven-people stood in formation. Several occupied the center of a large, etched ruin that pulsed with subtle light. Those surrounding them swayed rhythmically, mouths moving in silent chants. The ones at the center were…changing, their forms rippling and dissolving, merging together like tar in a pit.

Ariana's heart nearly stopped as understanding dawned. A summoning. They were trying to bring something into this realm—and that couldn't be good.

Her gaze flickered between the ritual circle and Carson, who was gradually descending toward Kazro, unaware or uncaring of the ceremony taking place.

In that moment, Ariana felt a warmth spreading through her chest—Gaia's essence, she realized. Not as strong as the connection Kazro shared with the god, but present nonetheless. The gentle heat seemed to temper her rage, clearing her thoughts just enough to see past that blinding red haze.

She breathed deeply, in and out, hands shaking. Help me heal, like Kazro. Help me!

Forget about Carson, Gaia whispered, voice tinged with panic. The ravens. Stop them!

Shuddering, she nodded. He was right. They had to stop the summoning first. Whatever—or whoever—they were calling forth would only complicate an already desperate situation.

Ariana began to move, starting with a cautious crawl that quickly accelerated into a full sprint. Her spider legs carried her with startling speed across the uneven ground, each step quick and precise.

She was halfway to the circle when one of the ravens noticed her approach. This one was different from the others—a massive purple eye dominated its forehead, glowing with purple light. It let out a sound like metal being torn apart, wings spreading wide as it turned to face her.

Purple mist erupted from its outstretched hands, engulfing Ariana before she could dodge. The fog burned her eyes, filled her lungs, disoriented her completely. She stumbled, lost her footing, rolled…

And found herself someplace else entirely.

The porch of her friend’s home. Snow falling all around her. Carson standing in the doorway, hands clenched into fists.

The night he killed her.

***

Archimedes shot toward the ritual circle, staff extended, azure flames dancing along its length. The ravens were so focused on their ceremony they hadn't noticed his approach—but their vigilance wasn't necessary. One of the guardians standing at the circle's edge turned suddenly, a massive eyeball opening on its forehead with a wet sound.

It shrieked and thrust its hands toward him. Mist exploded from its palms—not purple like the cloud that had enveloped Ariana, but pitch black and shot through with crimson veins.

"Barrier of—" Archimedes began, but too late. The mist slammed into him, cutting off his incantation mid-word.

He activated a fiery explosive technique, trying to burn away the darkness, but the flames guttered out almost immediately. The world tilted, spun, and he found himself slamming face-first into coarse, black sand.

Familiar shouts and screams echoed through the air. The smell of burning fabric and cooking flesh filled his senses, acrid and nauseating. Archimedes pushed himself up, disoriented, and found himself on a high dune overlooking a settlement of tents.

Burning tents.

Dark-skinned, ruby-eyed figures moved among the flames—Sa’Khari warriors slashing through the fabric structures, cutting down Drifters who tried to flee. Essence stained the black sand, bodies sprawled in grotesque poses of death.

Shock froze Archimedes in place. This scene… How he hated this scene. Had lived it. Had run from it.

The Massacre at Ember's Rest. The night Kal’marath had shown his true colors.

A war cry tore from Archimedes' throat, raw and primal. He found himself sprinting down the dune, staff whirling as he charged toward the settlement. Hot rage and burning grief propelled him forward, feet barely touching the ground.

He swung at the first Sa’Khari warrior he reached, staff connecting with the man's chest. The figure burst into mist, dissipating like smoke. Archimedes spun, swinging wildly at another attacker, then another. Each time, his weapon connected, and each time, the targets dissolved into nothingness.

Archimedes whirled, disoriented, and found himself face to face with another Sa’Khari. This one didn't immediately attack, instead blinking at him with confusion evident in his ruby eyes. The face was achingly familiar—so much like Zerek’s…

Their eyes locked, and in that moment, understanding crashed through Archimedes. This wasn't real. None of it was real. He was trapped in a vision, a memory twisted and weaponized against him.

But the screams… The screams sounded so genuine. So painfully familiar.

Still, he tried to break free, to force himself back to reality, but the illusion held firm. Behind Zerek’s brother, a tall figure appeared, wreathed in black mist. Red eyes glowed from within the darkness, and a massive sword gleamed in its hand.

Kal’marath.

Instinct screamed at Archimedes to run, to escape as he had done that terrible night so long ago. Panic surged through him, his pulse a frantic drumbeat in his ears. His legs tensed, ready to flee.

But something stopped him—a warmth, spreading through his chest, radiating outward to his limbs. Gaia's essence, recognizable even here in this false reality.

Archimedes breathed out slowly, fingers tightening around his staff. "No more running," he whispered, the words carrying more weight than any spell he'd ever cast.

Around him, the illusion continued—screams of the dying, crackle of flames, the metallic stench of blood. But instead of overwhelming him, these sensations only strengthened his resolve.

"No more holding onto this," he said, louder now. “I need to face this head-on. I'm going to end this!”

Power surged through him, his staff blazing with blue-white fire that cast harsh shadows across the nightmarish scene. Archimedes let out a battle cry that seemed to shake the very foundations of the illusion, and charged directly at Kal’marath.

Chapter 69 - Achingly Human

I rose to my feet, holding out my left hand and summoning my Transcendent Scythe with a thought. The oversized weapon materialized in my grip, its weight both substantial yet somehow weightless. The crown followed, settling on my head with a warmth that spread down my spine. My cloak unfurled around my shoulders, and my shield and slingshot manifested at my sides, ready for battle.

My eyes locked with Carson's blue-violet gaze. He hung suspended in a writhing mass of tentacles that stretched all the way to the ceiling, connecting him to that vast, pulsing heart. The organ itself was nearly obscured, protected by thousands of squirming tentacles that formed a living shield around it.

"They're calling for him!" Gaia materialized beside me, his voice pitched high with panic. He jabbed a finger toward the center of the room. "THEY'RE CALLING FOR HIM!"

I followed his gesture to where a circle of raven-creatures swayed in unison, their goopy forms rippling as they conducted some kind of ritual. The air above them shimmered with distortion, reality thinning like stretched fabric.

Quick flashes of purple light drew my attention—Ariana stumbling through mist, Archimedes facing down a black cloud. Fear jackhammered through my chest, but I forced it down. Our bond meant that any damage they took, I would absorb the worst of it. They were strong. They would endure.

I had to focus on stopping that ritual.

"I recognize that ritual anywhere," Gaia continued, his form flickering with agitation. "It's a sacrificial summoning!"

My heart leapt into my throat. I knew exactly who these creatures were trying to call.

Roksas.

Carson's mouth was moving, words echoing around the chamber, but I couldn't make them out—or chose not to. There was no time. I kicked off the ground, blasting like a comet, energy streaming behind me as I shot toward the circle of ravens.

One of them looked up, an eye suddenly blinking open on its forehead. It locked onto me, and purple mist erupted from its hands, rushing toward me in a thick cloud.

My Mind Core flared with warmth, its crystalline structure pulsing at the center of my consciousness. The mist crashed into me but dissolved on contact, unable to penetrate my mental defenses. The raven's eye widened with shock.

I reached for the Crown's power, ready to unleash Sovereign's Command on the—

Something slammed into me from the side, knocking my attack off aim. The blast went wide, exploding against the far wall in a shower of emerald shards. I went flying, tumbling through the air before slamming into the orange-red ground. The impact dragged a long furrow through the dirt as I skidded to a stop.

Pain pulsed through me despite my shield, rattling my teeth and sending stars dancing across my vision. I pushed up onto one knee, shaking my head to clear it.

Carson stood where I had been a moment before, tentacles expanding around him like wings, blocking my path to the ritual circle. His fractured face twisted in a feral snarl, eyes burning with hatred and something else—something deeper and more broken.

In that moment, I understood. I couldn't reach the ritual—not with Carson positioned to intercept every attempt. But my companions might stand a chance if I could keep him occupied.

"Gaia!" I shouted, climbing to my feet. "Help the others break free of those clouds! Have them stop the ritual!"

Emerald light streamed from me toward my allies, invisible threads of connection brightening as Gaia's essence flowed along our bonds.

Carson launched himself at me again, a blue-violet streak across the chamber. I raised my scythe just in time, blocking his attack in a flash of colliding energies. The impact sent us both sliding, our feet carving twin trenches in the dirt.

With a grunt, I twisted and threw him off, leaping to one side as his tentacles lashed at the space I'd occupied. "You were hurt!" I shouted, landing and sweeping my scythe in a wide arc.

Emerald energy rippled outward, slamming into Carson. Tentacles burst apart only to be instantly replaced by new ones as he lunged at me with inhuman speed.

I barely got my Transcendent Shield up in time. The collision sent me skidding backward again, boots struggling for purchase on the gritty ground. Carson pressed against the barrier, his face inches from mine, screaming with such raw anguish it made my skin crawl.

"You were hurt, and so you hurt others!" I shouted over his wailing. “And so you hurt me!”

He wasn't even listening—might not even be capable of understanding anymore. His screams didn't sound human, more like the shriek of tearing metal or breaking glass. I activated Phantom Reap, emerald energy exploding outward to blast him back.

The moment he was clear, I leapt upward, aiming for him. My scythe flashed as I swung it in a deadly arc—but tentacles shot out from Carson's body, intercepting the blow. The blade sank deep into fleshy tendrils, stopping short.

Before I could try again, Carson lunged and slammed into me, sending me hurtling across the chamber. I twisted in midair, managing to slam my feet against the wall. The surface cracked under the impact, but I used the momentum to launch myself back toward him.

"Majestic Onslaught!" I called, drawing on the Crown's power. Golden-green light erupted from me, increasing my attack speed. My scythe became a blur as I closed the distance, slashing through tentacles that tried to intercept me.

Carson met my charge head-on, his own attacks moving with unnatural quickness. We clashed in midair, a shockwave blasting outward from the point of impact.

From the corner of my eye, I saw Vireth, green soldiers, Scarlet, and Kli'Taka sprinting around the summoning circle, launching attacks at the ravens. Relief flickered through me—at least they weren’t consumed by those clouds.

I tried to throw an attack their way, to help disrupt the ritual, but Carson immediately moved to block me. Three tentacles wrapped around my ankle and hurled me toward the ceiling. I twisted midair, slashing through them with my scythe, but more replaced them instantly.

"Harvest Guardians!” I shouted, reaching for the burlap sack at my waist. Seeds scattered from my fingers, erupting into dozens of plant warriors that swarmed toward Carson. He tore through them effortlessly, but they bought me precious seconds.

As I fell back toward the ground, I aimed not at him, but at that pulsing heart—my true goal. I launched a Crescent Strike, slicing through several of the protective tentacles before Carson tackled me from the side, sending us both crashing into a wall.

SLAM!

"I know what it's like to be abused!" I shouted as we grappled, my face inches from his fractured visage. His eyes widened slightly, a flicker of something—recognition?—passing across his features. "I don't know your pain, but I know pain. You don't have to carry this! You can let it GO!”

For a split second, the madness in his eyes seemed to recede, revealing something achingly human. His grip on me loosened fractionally—not much, but enough for me to break free and kick off his chest, putting distance between us.

I dropped to the ground, and as I landed, my gaze darted between Carson and the heart. The immense organ continued to pulse, its vast stores of energy tantalizingly close yet frustratingly out of reach. If I could just get to it—cut through those tentacles and absorb its power—I'd have the strength to end this fight.

But every time I moved toward it, Carson was there, blocking my path with single-minded determination. Even now, he was recovering, tentacles re-forming around him, eyes refocusing on me with that same murderous intent.

Yet I'd seen something in those eyes when I spoke to him. Something that told me the boy I'd first encountered wasn't completely gone. Buried beneath layers of corruption and pain, but still there.

Could I reach him?

And if I couldn't, could I defeat him and claim the heart's power before Roksas arrived?

I readied my scythe again, drawing on my last reserves of energy. Time to find out.

Chapter 70 - Released

Ariana stood on that moonlit porch, snow falling in lazy spirals that caught the silver light before vanishing against dark wood. Carson closed the door behind him and swaggered out, a smug expression twisting his freckled face into something cruel and unfamiliar.

Her heart hammered against her ribs like a trapped animal, each beat sending waves of nausea through her belly. Despite the winter chill that frosted her breath, heat flushed her skin, her palms slick with sweat. All that healing with Kazro—all those gentle moments of connection, of understanding—seemed like a distant dream now, fading with each second she spent trapped in this nightmare.

The warmth that had bloomed in her chest from her prayer to Gaia dwindled to a fragile ember, threatened by the tsunami of hatred that surged through her veins at the sight of Carson's ugly face.

"You took everything from me," she growled, the words scraping her throat raw.

Carson said nothing, just continued his swagger across the porch, closing the distance between them with deliberate steps.

"EVERYTHING!" she shouted, her voice cracking with the force of it.

His face contorted with sudden rage. "You don't deserve ANYTHING!" he roared, lunging forward to shove her shoulders with both hands.

The impact sent her crashing through the railing. Splinters of wood exploded around her as she tumbled down, landing hard in the snow. She rolled, but adrenaline propelled her back to her feet. Her fingers closed around a jagged rock half-buried in the snow. She spun to face him, weapon raised.

Not everything, a voice whispered through her mind.

Carson was sprinting at her now, his face twisted into a mask of hatred, mouth open in a wordless scream. But his movements seemed to slow, as if time itself was stretching, dilating around them like taffy pulled taut.

Someone appeared on the porch behind him—a boy made of emerald-green mist. Kazro. His eyes locked with hers across the distance, staring deep into her soul, seeing every dark corner, every festering wound.

Let go… The words materialized in her mind, not spoken but somehow heard all the same.

Tears burned in Ariana's eyes as she glared at Carson's approaching form, her jaw clenched so tight her teeth threatened to crack. The rock felt impossibly heavy in her hand, a physical manifestation of the hatred she'd been carrying for so long.

Let go, the voice came again, gentle but insistent.

"But he doesn't deserve that," she choked out, the words bitter on her tongue. "He doesn't deserve for me to just let this go. HE KILLED ME!"

None of us deserves forgiveness, the voice replied, a harmonic blend of Gaia's ancient wisdom and Kazro's quiet understanding. But it is not for him. It is for you. Release it.

She squeezed the rock harder, knuckles turning white with the pressure. Every fiber of her being burned with the desire to strike, to hurt, to destroy as she had been destroyed. To balance the scales of justice with Carson's blood.

Release it, the voice repeated, softer now.

Carson continued his slow-motion charge, each footfall crushing the snow beneath his boots. Tears streaked hot trails down Ariana's frozen cheeks. She looked to Kazro, still standing on the porch, watching her with those impossible eyes that somehow held both sorrow and serenity.

He had walked through hell and emerged whole. Not perfect—she could still see the cracks in him, the places where he'd been broken and mended—but at peace in a way she couldn't comprehend. The difference between them yawned wide as a canyon, and suddenly she wanted nothing more than to cross it. To shed this burning, poisonous hatred—a prison of her own making.

Her vision blurred with fresh tears. The rock trembled in her grip as something deep inside her began to crack, to give way. The walls she'd built around her heart—walls meant to protect but which had only isolated—started to crumble.

"Help me," she whispered, her heart opening to Kazro fully for the first time. Not just her love for him, but her brokenness, her rage, her fear. Everything she was, laid bare for him to see. "Help me!"

Kazro burst into golden-green mist, surging toward her like a comet across the night sky. The essence enveloped her, seeping into every pore, filling the hollow spaces inside her. Gaia's presence flooded through her mind, washing away the hatred not with gentle waves but with a hurricane of light.

Ariana screamed as the transformation tore through her, a sound of both agony and release. The rock fell from her nerveless fingers. Her body arched backward, arms flung wide as golden-green light erupted from her eyes, her mouth, the tips of her spider legs.

Carson's charging form froze entirely, then staggered back, hands raised to shield his face from the blinding radiance. His edges began to blur, to dissolve into black mist that was swept away by winds only Ariana could feel.

Then, the illusion shattered like glass, taking with it the last vestiges of her hatred.

Chapter 71 - Let Go

Archimedes cried out, swinging his staff in a wide arc. Golden-green mist—Gaia's essence—erupted from the weapon as it connected with the tyrant's chest.

The impact sent Kal’marath sliding backward, dark feet carving trenches in the black sand. The shadowy shroud around him rippled, momentarily thinning to reveal the face beneath—angular, harsh, with those burning ruby eyes that had haunted Archimedes' nightmares for decades.

Archimedes! Gaia shouted. Archimedes, stop!

Archimedes barely heard him as he sprinted forward, closing the distance before his opponent could recover.

Release this! Gaia's voice thundered in his mind. You are not betraying your clan if you forgive him! If you let this go!

Kal’marath swung his massive blade in a horizontal slash. Archimedes ducked beneath it, the sword passing close enough that he felt its chill against his flames. He pivoted, bringing his staff up in a vicious uppercut that connected with Kal’marath's jaw.

The impact was catastrophic. Kalmarath shot upward and backward, his body temporarily losing cohesion, wisps of darkness trailing behind him like comet tails. He landed fifty feet away with a heavy SLAM, his body motionless. Dead?

But victory felt hollow. Despite the successful attack, Archimedes found himself staggering, suddenly weak-kneed and disoriented. Gaia's warmth pulsed inside him, a gentle tide lapping at the shores of his consciousness, but something else fought against it—a dark, clinging thing wrapped around his heart like barbed wire. His pain. His trauma. His guilt.

He couldn't let go. Not even now, facing the source of his nightmares. Not even with Gaia's light flooding through him.

Across the sand, Kal’marath reformed, rising to his feet, his face splitting in a predatory grin. "Still running, little mage?" he said, his voice a sound like grinding stones. “Still hiding behind your petty self-righteous anger?”

He launched forward, moving with impossible speed, sword raised for a killing blow. Archimedes tried to bring his staff up to block, but his limbs felt leaden, unresponsive. Too slow. Far too slow. Now, he would—

Two figures materialized before him, their weapons raised to catch Kalmarath's descending blade. The clash of energies detonated in a blinding flash, sending a shockwave of sand spraying outward.

Archimedes staggered back, one hand raised to shield his eyes. As the dust settled, he found himself staring at two impossible defenders—Zerek and Rekhael, standing shoulder to shoulder, straining against Kalmarath's strength.

"Move!" Zerek shouted without looking back, his muscles trembling with the effort of holding back the massive blade.

Shock froze Archimedes in place. Zerek—the Sa’Khari warrior who’d hunted them through the Sundust Reaches, who’d tried repeatedly to kill Kazro—was defending him. And his brother, too?

Something expanded in Archimedes' mind, a revelation breaking through calcified layers of hatred and fear. Zerek had changed. In the end, when it had mattered most, he had helped them. Had sacrificed himself to save Kazro. And his brother had followed that example, allying with them against a greater threat.

If they could change—if warriors bred for violence and conquest could find redemption—then perhaps…

Perhaps he could, too.

The barbed wire around his heart loosened, just enough for Gaia's light to seep through the cracks. Gold-green radiance seeped from Archimedes’ body, his flickering form growing brighter, more substantial.

If Kazro could heal from his trauma, Gaia's voice whispered, so can you.

Archimedes stepped forward, moving to stand beside the Sa’Khari brothers. His eyes locked with Kalmarath's ruby gaze, no longer flinching from that hateful stare.

"You no longer have power over me," he said, his voice steady despite the tremors still running through his frame.

Kal’marath roared, pressing harder against the brothers’ blades. Their knees buckled slightly under the increased pressure, their weapons creaking with strain.

Panic shot through Archimedes. For a heartbeat, he nearly retreated—nearly fell back into the comfortable pattern of running, hiding, surviving at any cost.

Instead, he planted his feet firmly in the sand and raised his staff. "YOU NO LONGER HAVE POWER OVER ME!" He slammed his staff down.

Light exploded from Archimedes—not the azure flames that typically wreathed his form, but pure golden-green radiance that pierced the illusion like spears of dawn. Kal’marath screamed at the light, his body disintegrating where the beams struck. Black mist boiled away from his form, revealing nothing beneath but more darkness.

His massive sword crumbled first, fragmenting into particles that swirled away on a nonexistent wind. Next went his arms, then his torso. His face was the last to dissolve, those ruby eyes cracking like glass before melting away into nothingness.

As the last vestiges of Kal’marath vanished, Zerek stumbled. His brother caught him, supporting his weight with a gentleness Archimedes wouldn't have thought possible from a Sa’Khari warrior.

The mist of Kal’marath's being dissipated on the wind, leaving nothing behind but smudges of darkness that were quickly erased by Archimedes' growing light. He stood there, bathed in Gaia's essence, feeling both lighter and more substantial than he had in decades.

Slowly, he turned to face the burning village behind him—the scene of his greatest failure, the memory that had haunted him for so long. Scattered across the sand lay the remnants of his clan's last stand—torn tents, scorched earth, tattered clothing from the fallen.

And there, standing among the ruins, were the ghosts of his friends. His family. His people. They watched him with luminous eyes, tears like stardust trailing down their translucent cheeks.

"Move on," Archimedes whispered, not knowing whether he spoke to them or to himself. "You can move on."

The words acted as a key, unlocking something that had been sealed away inside him for far too long. The broken pieces of his heart, jagged and scattered for decades, began to slide together, fitting in ways they never had before.

The ghosts of his clan hovered toward him, their steps leaving no impression in the sand. They surrounded him, reached for him with ethereal hands. And to his astonishment, he could feel them—their warmth, their love, their forgiveness washing over him in waves.

Tears spilled down his fiery cheeks, sizzling into steam as they fell. The release was so profound, so complete, that for a moment he feared it might unmake him entirely.

But instead, his broken heart snapped into place. Rebuilt. Stronger. Whole. Ready to move forward.

The spirits of his clan embraced him one final time before they began to ascend, their forms dissolving into motes of light that drifted upward into the night sky. Archimedes watched them go, no longer desperate to hold them back, to keep them tethered to his pain.

The vision around him started to glow, the entire scene suffused with golden-green radiance as the illusion began to fade. Archimedes closed his eyes, feeling the last of his guilt and rage falling away like chains that finally rusted through.

Then, with a deep inhale, and a loud exhale, he finally let go.

Chapter 72 - Finally Free

Those eyes…

Carson could see nothing but those golden-emerald orbs radiating through the darkness, blinding him to all else. They pierced the fractured landscape of his mind, illuminating corners once steeped in shadows, filling him with light, with a warmth he'd never known before.

The sensation was foreign, terrifying in its unfamiliarity.

This brilliant radiance flowed into jagged cracks, seeping through the broken fragments haphazardly glued together with blue energy. Each place the light touched began to hum with a strange resonance, vibrating at a frequency that made his teeth ache and his vision swim.

Was this healing? Carson couldn't tell. All he knew was that nothing had ever reached so deep inside him—past the rage, past the hurt, past the towering walls he'd constructed around what remained of his soul.

"You can let go," the voice said, suddenly clear, cutting through the static that normally filled his thoughts. "You don't have to carry this pain anymore."

The words seemed to physically touch him, like gentle hands against his fractured face.

“You can release this—”

"SILENCE!" Another voice boomed, this one seeming to emanate from deep within his own chest. "OBEY ME, CARSON. DESTROY THE INTRUDERS!"

The command struck him like a blow to the gut. It reminded him of his brothers—their voices cold and clinical as they pinned him down, as they made those first incisions, as they watched him scream with detached curiosity.

"Just an experiment," they'd said, ignoring his pleas. "Just a test."

Night after night, they'd return, adding new torments, new "improvements" to their work. His grandmother never knew what was happening in that basement. The teachers at school dismissed his increasingly erratic behavior as attention-seeking. No one believed him. No one saw him.

The rage built gradually at first, then exponentially—a nuclear reaction of hatred and pain that eventually consumed everything else. He'd grown to hate everyone and everything—the world that had abandoned him, the people who had failed him, the God who had allowed it all to happen.

“OBEY ME!” the voice shouted, and Carson flinched, trembled.

"You don't have to listen to it," the golden-eyed figure said, closer now. "The tower is using you, just like your brothers did."

Carson's vision flickered, reality splitting into overlapping images—the figure before him shifted—sometimes a warrior wreathed in emerald light, sometimes just a boy, ordinary except for those extraordinary eyes.

"KILL HIM!" the tower roared, the command reverberating through Carson's bones. "HE WILL TAKE EVERYTHING FROM YOU!"

"What do I have left to take?" Carson whispered, the words tearing from his ruined throat.

The emerald-eyed boy—Kazro, he remembered the name now—never took his gaze from Carson's face.

"I see you," Kazro said simply. "Not what they made you. Not what the tower is using. I see you."

Something broke inside Carson then—not the shattering he'd felt so many times before, but a gentler fracturing, like ice giving way to spring. The warmth from Kazro's eyes intensified, washing over him in waves that melted the frozen parts of his soul.

"Let go," Kazro repeated, extending his hand. "You don't have to be this anymore."

The tower's voice grew frantic, its commands more desperate, but they seemed to come from a great distance now, muffled and indistinct. All Carson could see, all he could feel, were those eyes and the divine comfort they offered—like the protective embrace of a father he'd never known.

With a sound that was half-sob, half-sigh, Carson released his grip on the rage that had defined him for so long. His tentacles went limp, his fractured body sagging. He reached toward Kazro's outstretched hand with trembling fingers.

“Let go,” Kazro said, and there was no condemnation in his voice, only understanding.

Carson let go completely then, surrendering to the light, to the warmth, to a feeling so foreign he had no name for it. The blue energy binding him began to dissolve, the tower's hold weakening with each passing second. He felt himself fading, not into darkness but into light—into the golden-emerald glow of Kazro's eyes, into a peace he'd never dared to imagine possible.

And for the first time since he could remember, Carson wasn't afraid. Wasn't angry. Wasn't alone.

He was free.

Chapter 73 - Life Essence

I couldn't move.

Tentacles writhed around me, constricting my limbs, slithering across my torso like living ropes. The pressure squeezed the air from my lungs, but through the mass of undulating limbs, I could still see Carson's eyes.

They flickered, wide and vacant, yet somehow…present. Something inside me stirred, an instinct deeper than thought. I reached for that wellspring of power, that reservoir of emerald-gold light that thrummed beneath my skin. The crown's energy responded, surging through my channels as I focused my will.

“Throne of Light,” I whispered, the words barely audible beneath the squelching sounds of the tentacles.

Light erupted from my core, channeling through my palms, my fingertips, my very pores. I forced it outward—not to destroy, but to heal. To fill. The emerald-gold aura radiated, flowing from me into Carson like a tide of liquid warmth.

His eyes widened further, and in them I saw something breaking—not shattering, but dissolving. The hatred, the cruelty, the pain…all of it melting away beneath the flood of Gaia's essence. I was pouring into him something I realized he'd never known—compassion, acceptance, belonging.

Tears welled in my eyes, spilling hot tracks down my cheeks. I felt his pain easing and the hollowness inside him filling with light, and somehow, impossibly, I felt Archimedes and Ariana too—their spirits resonating with mine across the distance that separated us.

[Burnout: 993%/1100%>

"You're almost at complete burnout!" Gaia's voice thundered through my mind, frantic and urgent. "The heart is directly above you, kid! Break free and launch up!"

I flinched but didn't stop. Couldn't stop. Not yet. Carson's gaze locked with mine, truly seeing me for the first time. Recognition dawned—not of the weak, frightened boy he'd tormented, but of something else. Something new.

"You are not alone," I whispered, my voice cracking. The tears flowed faster now, each drop luminous with the same light I poured into him. "You are loved."

Then I gathered every mote of power left in me and exploded upward. The aura detonated outward, shredding tentacles like paper. I shot skyward like a comet, trailing emerald fire, screaming as I summoned Gaia to my hand. The scythe materialized in a flash of verdant light, its blade singing as I swung it through corrupted flesh, ripping through squirming limbs.

I plunged straight into the heart, into thick, glowing, rainbow-blue fluid that caught me mid-ascent. My momentum slowed dramatically, as if I'd crashed into gelatin. Bubbles escaped my lips, not rising but freezing in place like suspended jewels. I hovered in the strange substance, eyes wide as I took in my surroundings.

Flesh pulsed around me, walls of living tissue contracting rhythmically. I raised Gaia, preparing to unleash Emerald Tempest, my free hand already reaching for Vlindakh's mark to supplement the attack with Essence Devourer.

Then, a notification blinked into existence before me:

[Absorb Stored Life Essence?]

I hesitated only a moment before shouting, “YES!” More bubbles burst from my mouth, suspended in the strange fluid.

[Life Essence Absorption Activated]

The substance around me flared to life—rainbow hues swirling, but dominated by an electric blue that pulsed in time with the heart's rhythm. Then it surged toward me, not flowing but leaping, as if drawn by a magnet. It didn't enter through my mouth or nose, but seemed to pass directly through my clothes, my skin, pouring into me from all sides.

I screamed. My back arched as liquid fire raged through my channels, lighting up my spiritual veins like livewires. The essence saturated my core, my very soul, which somehow stretched to accommodate it, greedily slurping up every drop.

Gaia's screams joined mine, our agony and ecstasy perfectly matched. The walls convulsed around us, its rhythm growing erratic and desperate. The entire tower shrieked, a sound so piercing and profound it seemed to tear at the fabric of reality itself.

[Experience Points: +93,450]

[Transfer To Heralds Initiated]

[New Levels Achieved!]

[Level 265 → Level 675]

[Rank F → Rank B]

[All Stats Increased!]

Updated Attributes:

Health (HP): 2,290 → 12,450

Magic (MP): 3,680 → 23,200

Stamina: 1,100 → 6,200

Attack: 1,187 → 8,350

Defense: 979 → 7,100

Speed: 550 → 3,900

I screamed as the power kept coming, pouring into me in an endless torrent, filling spaces inside me I hadn't known existed.

In the final moment before consciousness fled, I saw nothing but that brilliant blue-rainbow light, so bright it obliterated everything else—the heart, the tower, even my own body vanishing in its radiance.

And then, blinding white.

Chapter 74 - Summoning

The explosion of emerald-gold light was gentle to Ariana's eyes, but the following shockwave was anything but.

It slammed into her with the force of a battering ram, sending her flying backward. Her spider legs whipped out instinctively, eight chitinous limbs stabbing into the ground, slowing her slide across the chamber floor. Friction burned through their pointed tips, the sensation oddly distant yet sharp.

Blinking away the sunspots dancing in her vision, she looked up to see Kazro shooting skyward like a comet, tearing through the mass of writhing tentacles that protected the heart. The fleshy organ convulsed violently, veins bulging along its surface before contracting in what looked almost like fear.

She gawked, slack-jawed, but a streak of emerald-gold mist caught her eye. She turned, spider legs clicking against stone as she adjusted her weight. What she saw sent a jolt of shock through her system.

Carson. Lying in a heap of limp tentacles, eyes flickering—red to black, red to black—his body rigid as a corpse.

A wave of dizziness washed over her. She staggered sideways, one spider leg buckling briefly before regaining purchase. She should hate him. She should feel rage, revulsion, the burning need for revenge that had been her constant companion since that winter night.

But she felt…nothing. No, not nothing—something else entirely. A strange, hollow pity. Sadness for the broken thing that had broken her. And deeper still, a wholeness she couldn't explain, a golden warmth that seemed to radiate from her core.

Gaia's light. His power. It had given her the final nudge she needed to utterly and completely forgive this murderer.

The realization stunned her more than any physical blow could have. She barely registered the notifications blinking at the edge of her vision:

[Level Up!]

[New Level: 145]

[New Ability: Heart of Forgiveness - Immunity to hatred, rage, and vengeance. 50% resistance to mental manipulation.]

[Strength +15]

[Agility +12]

[Stamina +20]

[Mental Fortitude +50]

She couldn't focus on them anyway—not when a shriek split the air, so piercing it felt like daggers being driven into her ears. She clamped her hands over them, spider legs trembling as she spun toward the source.

Archimedes across the chamber, locked in combat with the raven people, trying to reach that glowing symbol etched into the stone. One raven—taller, with an ornate headdress of obsidian feathers—stood at the center of the formation, arms raised. The symbol beneath its feet pulsed brighter with each passing second, and the ravens standing on the perimeter…they were coming apart. Not dying—dissolving, their forms bleeding into the ether like ink in water.

Archimedes hurled a ball of blue-green flame that crashed against an invisible barrier surrounding the circle. Nearby, Kli'Taka and Scarlet launched their own attacks—sand and ice spiraling through the air, only to dissipate harmlessly against that same shield. Vireth and Zere’s brother—she could never remember his name—were there too, hacking away with grim determination, weapons bouncing off the barrier with each strike.

A scream tore from Ariana's throat as she sprinted toward them, spider legs propelling her forward with unnatural speed. She needed to help them stop the summoning! Need to—

A blinding rainbow-blue light flashed from above, so intense it turned the world white. She hissed, squinting against the glare, one arm raised to shield her eyes. Her enhanced vision adjusted quickly, pupils narrowing to slits.

The heart was convulsing violently now, its protective tentacles falling away like dead branches. It pulsed with that same rainbow-blue radiance—not from within, but streaming into it from elsewhere. And that's when she noticed the walls.

Color drained from the stone like blood from a corpse, flowing upward in rivulets—like raindrops sliding across a window pane, but in reverse. The vibrant hues that suffused the tower were being sucked away, leaving behind a sickly gray in their wake. A wet, slurping noise filled the chamber, and Ariana watched in horror as the pools of essence that dotted the floor began to drain, spiraling downward into nothing.

"What is happening?" she shouted, her voice lost in the cacophony of battle and that horrible, endless slurping. Panic clawed at her chest as she looked up toward the heart, where she knew Kazro was. What was he doing? What had he done?

Before she could take another step, a flash of purple-black light erupted from the center of the summoning circle. The shock wave hit her like a freight train, lifting her off her feet and hurling her across the chamber. She slammed into the wall with bone-jarring force, her spider legs scrabbling frantically for purchase. They found it, somehow, clinging to the stone even as something wet and cold splattered across her face, her chest, her arms.

Ink. The raven people had burst apart in a spray of ink and feathers, and she was covered in it. The substance dripped from her chin, her fingertips, her spider legs. It reeked of something ancient and wrong, like the breath of a sealed tomb disturbed after millennia. Cold seeped from it into her skin, spreading outward, and she shivered uncontrollably as she fought to blink away the spots dancing in her vision.

When her sight cleared, she focused on the summoning circle. It blazed with power, purple light streaming upward in a column that seemed to pierce the very ceiling. And standing at its center, where the raven priest had been, was…something else.

A tall figure with the head of a raven, black wings stretched wide from its shoulders. It wore a poncho-like garment that shimmered with iridescent purple-black feathers. In one clawed hand, it clutched a staff of pure obsidian, topped with a rippling sphere of what looked like liquid darkness. A skull—human, or something close to it—floated above the sphere, jaw hinged open in a silent scream.

Ariana was shivering, her blood going cold. The figure’s eyes were closed, the beak pointed downward as if in prayer or concentration. Then, slowly, terribly, those eyes opened.

Purple radiance spilled from them, not light but anti-light, swallowing illumination rather than providing it. Something ancient and malevolent gazed out at the world through those eyes—and seemed to look directly at her.

Ariana's blood froze in her veins. She couldn't move, couldn't breathe, couldn't even blink. Every instinct in her body screamed at her to run, to hide, to put as much distance between herself and this…this thing as possible.

But she remained paralyzed, pinned by that gaze, as the being stepped fully into their world.

Chapter 75 - Promise of Doom

Roksas stood frozen, the shock of what he was seeing locking his muscles in place. The tower—once bursting with life—had been utterly drained. The pools that had dotted the chamber floor were nothing but dried basins now, cracked and empty. The walls, formerly alive with swirling colors, had faded to a dead, lifeless gray. Even the air felt wrong, thin and stale, as if the very atmosphere had been bled dry.

He instinctively reached out with his consciousness, connecting to the tower itself. For decades, he had felt its heartbeat, its slow, steady rhythm a constant presence in the back of his mind. Now, as he searched for that familiar pulse, he found only the faintest flicker, like a candle's final guttering moments.

And then…nothing. The tower died. Just like that. No warning, no dramatic finale, just a whisper of existence and then oblivion.

A tremor ran through Roksas's body, feathers fluffing up involuntarily along his wings and neck. His hands clenched into fists, talons digging into his palms. Hot anger bubbled up inside him, spreading through his veins like poison.

Decades. He had been putting off harvesting this place for decades, carefully nursing its growth, waiting for the perfect moment when the essence would reach its peak potency. All that patience, all that careful cultivation—wasted.

His beak clacked as he snapped it closed. What a fool he'd been, flying off to check on his other territories, convinced this was merely a diversion. A ploy to draw him away while his true enemies struck elsewhere.

His other lands had been untouched, peaceful, exactly as he'd left them. The danger here, the struggle the tower had transmitted to him—it had been real.

And he had ignored it until it was too late.

Purple aura rippled off him in waves, distorting the air like heat haze. It pulsed in time with his thundering heart, expanding with each beat, turning the dead gray surroundings a sickly lavender. His wings flared wide, their movement stirring the stagnant air.

Only then did he truly take stock of his surroundings. Clinging to the wall with spindly bug legs was a girl—no, not entirely human, some hybrid thing. Nearby stood a figure wreathed in unstable blue fire, a mage whose power fluctuated like a guttering candle. And with them, a scattered handful of others—a fox-like creature, what appeared to be a sand elemental, and two humans, armed but ultimately unremarkable.

Vermin. Insects. That's all they were to him. Pests to be crushed beneath his heel.

And yet…

His wings folded slightly, then flared again as a new realization struck him. These handful of heralds—these insignificant specks—had somehow managed to defeat his tower. Had drained it completely. It seemed impossible, yet the evidence surrounded him.

Roksas's grip tightened on his obsidian staff, the skull hovering above it chattering its teeth. The liquid darkness swirling beneath it began to churn faster, responding to his will as he prepared to channel a death spell that would wipe these interlopers from existence.

Then, he heard it—one final, desperate pulse from somewhere above. His head snapped up, beak pointing toward the ceiling where the heart of the tower hung limp. There, a pinprick of light still shone, a blend of blue, emerald, and red radiance that shouldn't have been possible.

He narrowed his eyes, trying to make sense of what he was seeing. Before he could, the light exploded outward, the heart bursting in a spray of luminescent mist and shredded flesh. The debris blew past him, sizzling and disintegrating as it made contact with his aura.

Through the falling remnants, a figure plummeted toward the ground—a young man with an appearance that defied comprehension. Half his body glowed a brilliant gold, while the other half radiated an intense crimson. One eye burned emerald green, the other an abyss of perfect black. Pulsing rainbow-blue veins traced patterns across his exposed skin, looking more like circuits of pure energy than blood vessels.

His frame was solid, muscles defined and powerful beneath skin stretched taut. He was a young man, perhaps in early twenties. His cloak snapped in the wind of his descent, revealing a chest carved from marble, heart glowing with an inner fire.

The figure slammed into the ground several dozen feet away, the impact sending cracks spiderwebbing through the stone floor. Dust and fragments of rock exploded upward, then settled, revealing the young man, seemingly unharmed by the fall.

Shock gave way to understanding as Roksas felt the waves of power emanating from him. A Wielder, then. One who had somehow managed to absorb the entirety of the tower's life essence. But which god did he serve? There were so many these days, it was difficult to keep track.

A interface shimmered into existence in Roksas's vision as he scanned the intruder:

[Kazro]

[Level: 675]

[Rank: B]

[Power Classification: Transcendent]

Roksas snorted, the sound echoing metallically through his beak. Impressive, certainly. The boy had clearly gorged himself on the tower's essence, growing fat with stolen power. But compared to Roksas's own might? He was nothing but a gnat.

Still, there was a flicker of grudging respect. To drain an entire tower, to absorb so much essence without being torn apart—it spoke to a certain potential.

A potential he needed to extinguish before it could develop any further.

Roksas sighed, but perhaps this trip needn't be a total loss. If he killed the boy quickly, there might still be a chance to extract the essence he had stolen. And perhaps more besides.

Decision made, Roksas began to radiate with deadly intent. Purple energy cascaded from his form as he lifted from the ground, hovering several inches above the cracked stone. His wings stretched to their full impressive span, feathers rustling with arcane power.

Then, with the inevitable patience of a force of nature, he began to float toward Kazro, each inch traversed a promise of doom.

Chapter 76 - Guardian of the Divided Kingdoms

I rose slowly to my feet, my body trembling not with weakness, but with raw, undiluted power. The world around me seemed sharper somehow, colors more vivid, sounds clearer. I looked down at my hands, marveling at what I'd become.

My right arm radiated crimson light, pulsing with unholy energy. My left glowed a brilliant gold, warm and bright as sunlight. Vibrant rainbow-blue veins coursed through both, a network of power connecting the disparate halves. Where the colors met, they bled into each other—streaks of red threading through gold, wisps of gold infiltrating crimson.

Do you feel that, kid? Gaia's laughter echoed in my mind, a sound of pure delight. That's what I'm talking about!

Vlindakh was silent, but I could sense his presence in my Mind Core—a watchful, calculating silence tinged with something I'd never felt from him before. Awe. Or, perhaps, fear.

I flexed my fingers, feeling the newly developed muscles shift beneath my skin. My arms were toned now, defined. My legs, too. I felt…solid. Powerful. As if I could tear mountains from their roots or punch through steel. The sensation was intoxicating, a rush of invincibility flooding through me.

Then, I felt it—a cold ripple in the air, an aura that reeked of death. It slithered across my skin like ice water, instantly cooling the hot triumph in my veins.

I looked up, and my heart froze.

And there he stood—a figure straight from my nightmares. A raven-headed being in flowing clerical robes, clutching an obsidian staff topped with a skull and what looked like liquid darkness. Purple energy radiated from him in waves, distorting the air like heat haze.

Roksas. Servant of Poethius. Wielder of the Night.

Two warring emotions tore through me—the heady confidence of my newfound power battling against the bone-deep horror of finally facing the thing I'd been dreading. My mouth went dry, my palms suddenly slick with sweat despite the supernatural strength coursing through my limbs.

But there was no turning back now. I could feel his intent, a malevolent pressure bearing down on me. He meant to kill me. To kill us all.

I stood tall, willing my voice not to shake. "Roksas!" I shouted, the name tearing from my throat.

Roksas’s eyes flashed open, his head jerking back slightly.

Quickly, I reached out to Gaia through our mental link. Tell the others to flee. Now. Get them away from here!

While Gaia relayed my message, I kept my eyes locked on Roksas. I needed to buy time, to distract him long enough for the others to escape.

"I am KAZRO!" I bellowed, drawing myself up to my full height. "Wielder of Gaia and—"

That was all I managed before Roksas launched himself forward, moving with a speed that should have been impossible to track. But my advanced Mind Core processed the movement in slow motion, calculating his trajectory, predicting his strike point.

I sidestepped, watching his obsidian staff whistle through empty air where my chest had been a heartbeat before. His eyes widened—just a fraction, but enough to tell me he hadn't expected me to dodge.

He recovered instantly, pivoting mid-air to lash out with a kick aimed at my head. My Transcendent Shield materialized just in time, a circle of emerald metal catching the blow. The impact sent a shockwave through the air, vibrations through my bones, but I remained standing, countering with a quick punch, my fist connecting solidly with his feathered chest. An explosion of golden light erupted at the point of impact, and Roksas went flying backward, carving a deep furrow through the stone floor as he skidded away.

He recovered quickly, wings flapping as he rose once more. The crown materialized atop my head, its interface shimmering to life as I scanned my opponent:

[Name: Roksas]

[Rank: S]

[All other information: BLOCKED]

Ice flooded my veins. S rank. Two full ranks above me. My brief surge of confidence evaporated like morning dew under a cruel sun.

Before I could process this information, Roksas let out a shriek that seemed to tear at the fabric of reality itself. He materialized in front of me—not moved, but simply appeared—and slammed his staff into my chest with enough force to drive me to the ground.

Black ink burst from the point of impact, flowing across my body like living veins, wrapping around my limbs, my torso, my neck in an instant.

[Night Binding - ACTIVE]

It squeezed, constricting my movements, my muscles going rigid.

I yelled, thrashing against the restraints, but the more I struggled, the tighter they became. Each movement was like fighting through tar, the inky substance tightening its hold with every twitch of muscle.

"Don't struggle," Roksas said, his voice unnaturally calm as purple-black mist flowed from his beak. "Don't move. Just be a good Wielder and let me kill you." He leaned closer, pressing the staff harder against my sternum. "That life essence you stole belongs to me."

His aura flashed, and I could feel him activating some technique. The black veins covering my body thickened, sprouting bristling spikes that plunged into my flesh, into my very soul.

Pain unlike anything I'd ever experienced tore through me. It wasn't just physical—it was deeper, more fundamental, as if something essential was being ripped away. I screamed until my throat was raw, feeling my life force being sucked through those barbed connections, flowing up through Roksas's staff.

[Health: 12,450/12,450 → 11, 340/12,450 → 10, 925/12,450]

[Rate of drain: Accelerating]

[Ceremonial Scythe: [BOUND]]

[Crown of the Harvest: [BOUND]]

[Seed of the Sower: [BOUND]]

Panic seized me as I recognized what was happening. It was like when the raven cultists had bound my abilities before, but infinitely worse. This wasn't just one technique being blocked—it was everything. Every single power I had.

Roksas had completely sealed me.

In the distance, I could hear shouts—Ariana, Scarlet, Kli'Taka, Vireth, and Rekhael, all rushing toward me. But Roksas's purple aura extended in a dome around us, pushing them back.

"I'm glad they stuck around," Roksas said, pressing his staff harder into my chest. His eyes seemed to drink in the light. "Lucky for your friends, their deaths will be much quicker."

I gritted my teeth so hard I felt my molars creak. I could sense Gaia yelling, pushing against the binding technique with everything he had, but to no avail. His voice sounded distant, garbled by static. Gaia? I mentally shouted. GAIA! No response.

It was as if his entire focus was absorbed in fighting Roksas's attack, leaving no attention to spare for communication. The realization had my heart pounding, dread blooming in my chest.

Then, cutting through the panic, I felt something else—a smug satisfaction radiating from a different corner of my mind.

You're dying, Vlindakh whispered, his voice silky with amusement.

No shit! Gaia flared back, though his words crackled with interference. I could feel him pushing against the bindings again, his power briefly giving me hope that we might break free—but then he seemed to shrink, his presence diminishing as Roksas's drain continued.

I was beyond screaming now, my body locked in a rictus of agony, my newly gained power flowing out of me. The vibrant colors of my arms were fading, dimming, like a dying light.

[Health: 8,356/12,450]

[Magic: 4,624/23,200]

[Stamina: 1,502/3,900]

This technique works similarly to an oath, Vlindakh continued, his tone conversational, as if we were discussing the weather rather than my imminent death. A contract. Spiritual pressure locks… Locks, I can eat away…

Gaia was still cursing and screaming, but his voice was growing fainter, more distant. My throat was too raw to scream anymore. I could only watch in horror as my life essence drained away, flowing into Roksas's staff, feeding his unholy power.

"You must have worked so hard to get to this point," Roksas said, a note of satisfaction coloring his otherwise impassive tone. He seemed to be savoring my slow demise, drawing it out deliberately. "Lucky for me, you attacked the tower. I probably wouldn't have visited this region for another decade, maybe more… Funny how plans change."

His beaked face tilted, studying me with the cold curiosity of a predator examining its dying prey. "I can sense others here. Wielders close to your level, and entire civilizations… People, who are oppressed…”

He leaned closer, pushing his staff harder into my chest, his voice dropping to a whisper. "But they don't know half the damnation I'll put them through. I'll make slaves of women, of children, torturing their bodies, keeping them alive—but just barely—to suffer for what you have done here."

You can't get out of this one alone, Vlindakh whispered, an edge of panic—or was it eagerness?—creeping into his normally unflappable tone. I could sense his interest more clearly now, as if the proximity to death had somehow brought us into sharper alignment. You know that…

Roksas brought his face so close to mine that I could feel the cold radiating from his feathers. "Say goodbye, Wielder."

My entire body, my entire soul was being sucked away. But in that moment, my mind grew painfully sharp, crystalline in its clarity. I thought of all the people I'd sworn to protect—the queen, the citizens of Gaian City, the denizens of the Windwhisper Wilds. I'd set out to be their guardian, to defend them from threats they couldn't face alone.

But suddenly, other faces flashed through my mind—the Spriggan people with their leafy hair and wrinkled skin, suffering under the Plague Lord's cruel heel. The Skyborn with their large sunken eyes, oppressed by the Frost Baroness. The citizens of the Blight, forced to serve as pawns in games they didn't understand, treated as objects rather than people.

Roksas's threats sparked something in me, then—a righteous indignation that blazed white-hot in my core. I wasn't just guardian of the Wilds or protector of my friends. I was something more—chose to be something more.

That choice ignited a light inside me, a brilliance so intense it felt like it might burn me from the inside out. It filled me with life, with purpose, with power. Gaia's essence flooded through me, responding to that spark of holy wrath.

“May the Night haunt your soul, Wielder…” Roksas whispered, the edges of my vision growing black.

Still, I glared up into Roksas's dead, radiant eyes, teeth gritted so hard my jaw ached. "I have a name, you bastard," I whispered, Gaia's voice bleed through mine, lending it a resonance that seemed to make the very air vibrate.

Roksas's eyes widened slightly, the first genuine surprise I'd seen from him.

“I am Kazro,” I continued, struggling to pull my arm free of the inky bindings. "Wielder of Gaia, Guardian of the Divided Kingdoms, protector of the abused and the oppressed!"

With a final surge of strength, I managed to wrench my left arm up and slam it against the staff, my golden hand squeezing the obsidian shaft with all my might. But even as I did, I could feel the power draining from me again, the brief surge of energy already fading.

Roksas snorted, pressing a clawed hand against my chest, shoving me down. “Die, idiot.”

I gritted my teeth. Shit. There was only one option left. One path forward, as much as I hated it.

[Vlindakh's Mark Abilities: [UNBOUND]]

[Shadow Step: Available]

[Blood Lance: Available]

[Corruption Nova: Available]

[Soul Shackle: Available]

[Void Strike: Available]

[Essence Devourer: Available]

I fixed Roksas with a glare that would have melted stone. "I'm not the one who's going to die today."

My right arm flared crimson as I activated Vlindakh's technique. It shot out like a striking viper, tearing through Roksas's robes and wrapping around his leg with crushing force.

Roksas hissed and flinched back as Vlindakh let out a shrieking laugh, a sound like a million bats erupting from hell itself. Black mist burst from my arm, swirling around it, strengthening it as I squeezed with supernatural might. Then, the curse activated—Essence Devourer—and I began pulling Roksas's power into myself.

He screamed, a sound that split the air like lightning. He pulled back, wings flapping frantically, but I held fast to both him and his staff, my grip unbreakable. He swung violently from side to side, trying to dislodge me.

[Corruption Level: 68% → 70% → 71%]

Black spikes erupted from his body, plunging into my face, my chest, my limbs. I screamed but refused to let go, clinging to him as if super-glued, continuing to suck, and suck, and suck his essence into myself.

[Corruption Level: 88% → 91% → 93%]

My mind began to go numb, consciousness fraying at the edges. Vlindakh was howling with delight, laughing maniacally as Roksas thrashed and flailed. My vision dimmed, blackness closing in from all sides.

[Corruption Level: 94% → 96% → 98%]

In the distance, through the haze of pain and fading awareness, I saw an explosion of brilliant light—blue and yellow-green bursting forth like twin suns being born. But I couldn't focus on it, couldn't make sense of what I was seeing.

[Corruption Level: 98% → 99%]

Vlindakh's laughter grew louder, drowning out everything else as my consciousness burned away, dissolving into the void of his endless, hungry mirth.

[Corruption Level: 100%]

Chapter 77 - Death Throes

Ariana slashed with one of her spider legs, cleaving through several gooey raven-birds. Shrieks pierced her ears as more dive-bombed her from every angle, talons raking across her skin, leaving thin trails of blood in their wake.

She spun, lashing out in a frenzied arc. Three birds burst mid-flight, black ichor splattering across her face. But for every one she destroyed, two more materialized, their beady eyes glinting.

"Come on!" she snarled, chest heaving as she launched another volley of vine-like tendrils from her palms. The plants wrapped around a cluster of birds and squeezed until they popped like overripe fruit.

A glance at her interface made her heart flutter and, simultaneously, her stomach drop.

<Health: 762/12,200>

<MP: 440/9, 980>

<Stamina: 310/3,200>

Her reserves were depleting rapidly. Panic surged through her veins, cold and electric. She couldn't keep this up much longer.

That’s when Kazro's scream cut through the chaos—a sound so raw and primal it made her blood freeze. But what shocked her more was the answering shriek from Roksas, a wail of outrage that shook the very stones beneath her feet.

Ariana whirled, slicing through another wave of inky, feathery grunts. As they dissolved into mist, she caught a glimpse of Kazro that stole the breath from her lungs.

He had…transformed, radiating crimson-gold energy. Black smoke billowed from his body, swirling densely around his right arm—which was clamped in a death grip around Roksas's leg. His other arm glowed like a sunrise, fingers white-knuckled around his staff as he drove it deeper into the Raven's chest.

Roksas thrashed wildly, wings beating the air in desperate arcs. Black blades materialized around him, stabbing into Kazro's body over and over, each impact sending a spray of blood into the air.

“KAZRO!” The name tore from her throat, desperate and raw.

Her momentary distraction cost her. A dozen birds descended at once, their beaks piercing her flesh like darts. She screamed, spider legs lashing out instinctively and—

The wall to her far right exploded in a blast of brilliant green and ice-blue radiance. Chunks of stone and pulverized flesh rained down around her. Ariana staggered back, throwing up an arm to shield her eyes from what looked like twin suns burning in the darkness

As her vision adjusted, the suns resolved into figures—the Frost Baroness, ice crystals spreading outward from her like frozen fractals, and the Plague Lord, reality itself seeming to warp and hiss where his power touched it. Their combined auras were almost too bright to look at directly, but she couldn’t help but gawk.

Without warning, they launched forward in perfect unison, their power coalescing into a single devastating strike aimed at Roksas. SLAM! The air itself seemed to tear with a sound like ripping parchment.

Roksas slammed into the far wall with catastrophic force, clutching his staff. But he was missing a leg—because Kazro still clung to it, his prize spasming in his grasp.

Roksas snarled, unleashing a retaliatory blast that crashed against the monarchs' hastily erected shields. The barriers shattered like glass, sending them flying backward through the air. But in that brief reprieve, Roksas's form dissolved into a shapeless blob of ink that swirled before vanishing entirely.

The birds attacking Ariana instantly burst into oily droplets that rained down around her. Her legs buckled as the adrenaline drained from her system. She fell to her knees, spider limbs splaying out to support her weight. Her chest heaved with each ragged breath, blood oozing from hundreds of wounds—though, even as she watched, the flesh began knitting itself back together.

But something was wrong. The floor beneath her trembled, then shook with increasing violence. The entire tower groaned like a dying beast, stonework cracking as the structure threatened to collapse.

Figures streaked through the air—heralds and archlords pouring into the chamber. The Plague Lord's servants buzzed on transparent insect wings, while the Frost Baroness's followers rode clouds of crystalline mist. They darted about the room with purpose, gathering the scattered members of their party.

One swooped down to scoop up Kli'Taka. Another collected Scarlet, her multiple tails whipping in the wind. A third grabbed Archimedes.

A familiar figure approached on a cloud that trailed silvery vapor. Ice-blue hair framed a face she recognized instantly, his armor glinting with frost patterns.

"Hail, Princess Ariana, Herald of Gaia!" Sveric called out, extending a hand as he guided his cloud toward her. "Come, there's no time to lose. We retreat immediately.

She staggered forward, legs leaden, and nearly collapsed as he pulled her onto the misty mount.

"Kazro," she gasped, lifting her head to seek him out.

Across the crumbling chamber, she spotted him, still thrashing violently. Other archlords and heralds attempted to approach, but a pulsing aura of crimson and emerald energy repelled them each time they drew near.

The Frost Baroness and Plague Lord exchanged a glance before simultaneously raising their hands. Crystalline structures formed in the air, flowing together to create a transparent cocoon around Kazro's writhing form. Together, they lifted the encasement, their faces strained with effort.

The monarchs launched through the shattered wall, Kazro's prison suspended between them. All around the room, heralds and archlords followed suit, carrying their rescued comrades.

Ariana felt Sveric’s cloud lurch as it shot toward the exit, the world blurring as they accelerated into the open air. The tower's death throes faded behind them, replaced by the howling wind.

She sank onto the misty surface, her body trembling uncontrollably, mind blank with shock. Darkness gathered at the edges of her vision, and she surrendered to it gratefully.

Chapter 78 - Torment Beyond Imagining

Roksas materialized high in the atmosphere, his fractured essence pulling itself together even as he plummeted toward his domain—a dark region veined with glowing purple rivers twisting like arteries across the landscape.

His essence flickered, weakened, barely holding together. In the distance, a radiant tower rose from the darkened landscape, a beacon of concentrated power. Energy radiated from its obsidian walls in visible waves, crashing into him. The power surged through his tattered being, knitting together what had been torn asunder, flooding him with vitality.

<RESTORED>

<Health: 235,000/235,000>

<Essence: 100,000/100,000>

<Corruption Dominion: 96%>

Still falling, Roksas reeled, his mind struggling to process what happened. Never in all his centuries of existence had he encountered anything like it—a mere fledgling Wielder, not just fighting back, but actually draining his life force. The memory alone sent ripples of agony through his freshly healed soul. That boy, that Kazro, had absorbed a significant portion of his power—something that should have been impossible.

As he descended toward one of the major cities nestled in his valley, something caught his eye that made his blood run cold.

Massive jade formations jutted from the cityscape, each the size of a small mountain. They glowed with gentle-green light, casting eerie shadows across the broken buildings below. And carved into each jade pillar, a symbol—intricate geometric patterns that formed a message only Wielders could read.

Retribution.

Roksas sensed no life below, only death—thousands of snuffed-out essences, men and women who once called him lord—his city, transformed into a tomb of jade.

Rage exploded through him like wildfire. At full strength once more, he crashed into the central jade mountain with devastating force. Stone cracked beneath him, and he threw back his head and released a howling shriek that rippled through the very fabric of reality. His massive wings stretched outward, expanding, blocking the light of twin moons above. Where his missing leg should have been, bubbling ink dripped from the, coalescing into a new appendage—imperfect but functional.

He screamed until his throat was raw, boiling rage consuming him like a physical entity. If he hadn't been distracted by Kazro, by the tower, this never would have happened.

As his scream faded, Roksas sensed a familiar approach—an aura like a distant bonfire, toasty and flickering. His head snapped toward the horizon, where a blazing yellow-orange fireball streaked across the night sky, heading straight for him.

Another Wielder.

Roksas tensed, though, he recognized this presence—a neutral party in the constant struggle for dominance. Still, his patience had evaporated along with his city.

The fireball slammed into the jade platform not twenty feet away, flames spreading outward in a circular pattern. From within the inferno rose a figure—a lion with a mane of living flame, but with the muscular form of a gladiator. Burning amber eyes fixed on Roksas, fang-filled jaws spreading in a predatory grin.

"What a mess you've made,” rumbled Thurakai, his voice like stones grinding together.

“Leave me!” Roksas spun away, feathers pickling. “LEAVE!” he snarled, wings trembling with barely contained wrath.

The lion laughed, a deep, resonant chuckle that seemed to vibrate the jade beneath their feet. “Everyone felt that fight, you know. And now, every Wielder across Elendria can’t help but wonder what happened…”

Cold dread slithered through Roksas's gut, momentarily dampening his rage. He knew others could tune in to specific auras, could sense major confrontations between Wielders. But what did it matter? Most were too occupied with their own territories, their own alliances and machinations, to care about his affairs.

"Let them feel it," he spat. “It changes nothing!”

The flaming lion stalked closer, each footstep leaving scorched prints on the jade. "It's caught the attention of the Trinity."

Those words stopped Roksas cold. He spun around, eyes narrowing to slits. "The Trinity?"

The lion's smile widened, revealing rows of razor-sharp fangs. "They're planning something, Roksas. Something that will change the world—unite all regions, all Wielders, under a single banner."

"Impossible. The regions have been divided since the Dawn Age. No force could unite the Wielders."

“We can’t,” the lion said, flames dancing higher around his form. "But them?" He stepped closer, heat rolling off him in palpable waves. "Be ready, Roksas. Something is coming. Something big. Something that will change the fate of Elendria forever." His burning crackled. "Just thought I would warn you."

Without waiting for a response, the flaming lion crouched and launched himself skyward, leaving a blazing trail as he soared away into the night.

Roksas dropped to his knees, trembling, his insides unraveling—his city was destroyed, his power questioned, and now, rumors of the Trinity making moves.

He squeezed his hands into tight fists. And, just to add salt to the wound, he’d been defeated by Wielders far weaker than himself. Wielders, who’d taken advantage of a moment of weakness. Wielders that were rising, growing, becoming real threats.

His fists clenched so hard that his talons drew black blood from his palms. His aura flared outward, wild and uncontrolled. The jade around him began to melt, transforming into bubbling ink that spread like an infection. He bit down hard with his beak, feeling something inside him expanding, shredding—an emotion too vast and violent to contain.

Roksas had many enemies. The Jade Wielder ranked near the top of that long list. But now, there was another who had earned his eternal hatred: Kazro, Guardian of the Divided Kingdoms, Wielder of Two Gods.

Roksas wouldn’t simply kill him. No, death would be too merciful, too quick. He would subject the boy to torment beyond imagining—the special tortures he reserved only for his most hated adversaries. Kazro would beg for death long before Roksas granted it.

And when he finally did, Roksas would ensure that nothing remained of him—not even his memory.

Chapter 79 - Pandora's Box

Swirling light consumed my world—blue, gold, and red spirals dancing across my vision in hypnotic patterns. Voices drifted at the edges of my consciousness, tense and argumentative, but too distant to make out clearly. Despite feeling like I was surfacing from some bottomless dream, my mind felt impossibly clear, my body humming with energy.

I pushed through the kaleidoscope of colors and jerked upright with a gasp, eyes snapping open. My chest heaved as I gulped down air, sweat beading along my temples and sliding down my neck. Blinking rapidly, I forced my vision to focus on my surroundings.

I was in a massive bed, silk sheets tangled around my legs. Emerald walls rose around me, punctuated by green-tinted windows that filtered in golden sunlight. One stood open, its curtain dancing lazily with the incoming breeze.

I drew in a deep breath. The air tasted impossibly fresh—like soil after a cleansing rainfall, rich with life and possibility and—

Wait...

I’m back? I'm in Gaian City?

Confused, I threw off the blankets and looked down at myself. I wore nothing but underwear, giving me a clear view of my transformed body. Veins pulsed beneath my skin, glowing with intermingled blue, gold, and red light. My flesh, once divided starkly between crimson and gold, had merged into something new—subtle swirls of color bleeding together like tie-dye, moving slowly across my skin like clouds drifting over the earth.

My heart hammered as I took in the changes. My muscles were more defined, my body leaner and stronger than before. My mind felt razor-sharp, thoughts crystallizing with perfect clarity. A notification blinked insistently in my peripheral vision, and I pulled it up with a thought.

[XP Absorbed from Roksas: +126,983]

[KAZRO]

[Rank: A (previously B)]

[Level: 810 (previously 675)]

[HP: 15,500/15,500 (previously 12,450)]

[MP: 28,400/28,400 (previously 23,200)]

[Attack: 10,756 (previously 8,350)]

[Defense: 9,520 (previously 7,100)]

[Speed: 5,400 (previously 3,900)]

[All abilities upgraded to Rank A]

My breath caught in my throat. Holy hell. Those numbers were fricken staggering, but, how—

Memory flooded back—Roksas, the tower, that desperate fight. The curse gauge blasting upward as I tapped into forbidden power. Then darkness.

My eyes darted to another corner of my vision, seeking that damn curse meter.

[Vlindakh's Curse: 100%]

My stomach plummeted. Full corruption. Didn’t that mean death? Yet, here I sat, more alive than ever. I pressed a hand to my chest, focusing inward with my enhanced senses.

I could feel them—Vlindakh and Gaia—their essences no longer battling for dominance but somehow sewn into the very fabric of my soul. And there was something else—a new power absorbed from the tower, enveloping my entire being like a protective blanket. I could feel it humming through me, resonating with every cell in my body.

The arguing voices in my mind grew louder by degrees, still distant but steadily approaching. I recognized Gaia's irritated tone intermingled with another voice—deeper, colder, somehow ancient and youthful simultaneously.

"Gaia?" I called aloud, but received no response. The god remained locked in his distant argument, oblivious to my call. Worry crawled up my spine.

A creak pulled my attention to the door. It inched open, and Kli'Taka peeked in, her pearl-like eyes widening at the sight of me sitting upright. Behind her, Scarlet's golden-emerald fur gleamed as she pushed her muzzle through the gap.

Kli'Taka gave a wordless shout, joy exploding across her features as she burst into the room. Scarlet hurried in behind her.

My heart swelled at the sight of them, tension melting from my shoulders. They’re okay. They’re both okay. They’re alive.

Kli'Taka launched herself at me, arms wrapping around my neck in a fierce embrace that nearly knocked me back onto the bed. Scarlet pressed her muzzle against my arm, her tails fanning out behind her, each one tipped with dancing emerald flames.

I hugged them both tightly, my throat constricting as relief washed through me—a tidal wave washing away that lingering fear that I'd lost everything in that tower.

The gentle crackling of flames drew my attention to the doorway. Archimedes stood there, robed in what looked like the night sky, his staff clutched in one hand. Pip buzzed excitedly above his shoulder, her glow pulsing brighter than I'd ever seen it.

"I KNEW IT!" Pip trilled, zipping from Archimedes to dance around my head in dizzying spirals. "I told everyone you'd wake up! I TOLD them! Even when you were all glowy and floating and scary!"

Archimedes' flickering face somehow sagged, years of worry seemingly falling away. The fear—that Roksas would destroy us all, certainly—melted from his eyes, replaced by something softer, something almost like pride.

"Welcome back, Kazro," he whispered, voice thick with emotion. "You gave us quite the scare."

I laughed as Pip continued her jubilant circling, showering me with amber sparks. "How long was I out?"

"Almost an entire day," came another voice from the doorway.

Vireth stood there, arms crossed over his chest, lips quirked in his perpetual half-smirk. Behind him loomed Rekhael, his dark features unreadable. And beside them…

My breath caught. The Sundust Sage himself, his amber robes shimmering with captured sunlight, his fiery eyes filled with reverence as they regarded me.

"An entire day of council meetings and diplomatic nightmares," Vireth continued, stepping into the room. "Some of us had to explain to the monarchs how you ripped apart one of the oldest beings in existence."

"And absorbed a significant portion of his power," the Sundust Sage added, his voice a melodious rumble. "A feat previously thought impossible."

"Impossible seems to be Kazro's specialty," Archimedes said as he strode into the room.

“They thought you were gone," Pip whispered, alighting on my shoulder. “When the tower collapsed, and they brought you back in that crystal coffin…you weren't breathing. Your heart wasn't beating."

My stomach twisted. "But how did—"

"Your essence never faded," the sage said. "It continued to grow stronger, even as your physical form underwent its metamorphosis."

"Metamorphosis?" I echoed, glancing down at my swirled skin.

"You merged with them both," Archimedes explained. "Gaia and Vlindakh. Their power became yours, truly and completely. Something not seen since the First Age."

First Age? Damn, how old was he?

Movement beyond them caught my eye, a young woman radiating gold-green light.

When I looked into her eyes, the world seemed to freeze.

Ariana stood in the doorway, luminous with emerald-gold light, her midnight hair cascading over one shoulder. Her eyes, with their twin pupil-slits, were wide with wonder and something else—something that made my heart skip several beats.

The voices in the room faded to a distant murmur. Nothing existed but her—Ariana, my princess, the reason I'd crossed worlds and dimensions, the one who'd haunted my dreams before I even knew her name.

We moved simultaneously, drawn together by something more powerful than gravity. I launched from the bed as she pushed past the others, meeting her halfway across the room. My arms encircled her waist, hers wound around my neck, and our lips met in a kiss that sent electricity surging through my veins.

Someone whistled. Someone else laughed. One person groaned. I didn't care. All that mattered was the feel of her against me, real and solid and alive. Her spider legs curled around us both, cocooning us in our private moment.

When we finally broke apart, breathless, I pressed my forehead to hers. "I love you," I whispered.

Her lips curved into a smile so brilliant it rivaled the sunlight streaming through the windows. "I love you too," she breathed, her fingers tracing the swirls on my bare shoulders. “I thought…” Her words caught. “I thought I lost you again.”

In response, I pulled her in and hugged her tight.

She embraced me fiercely.

A pointed throat-clearing broke through our bubble. Reluctantly, I looked up to find Vireth leaning against the wall, one eyebrow raised, arms folded across his chest.

"Touching reunion," he said, lips a thin line. Then his expression sobered. "But the monarchs are waiting for you."

I blinked. "The monarchs? Here?"

Ariana nodded against my chest. "The Frost Baroness and the Plague Lord. They've been here since they saved us from the tower."

A chill ran down my spine, despite the confidence and strength pulsing through me. "Why are they here?" I asked, though part of me already knew the answer.

"They saved you in the end," Vireth said simply.

Those words triggered something in my memory—brilliant flashes of ice-blue and vibrant green light, just before everything exploded. My mind scrambled to reconstruct what had happened after I'd unleashed Vlindakh's power…

That was when a cold, dark realization crept over me like a shadow.

The arguing in my mind grew louder, closer to the surface—no longer a distant echo but now a roaring tempest. Two voices, locked in heated battle. Gaia's familiar tones…and another. Deeper. Colder. Amused.

Vlindakh’s.

The name sent a jolt through my system as emerald and black mist exploded outward from my body, filling the room with swirling shadows. Everyone cried out, staggering back. Only Ariana stayed close, my arms tightening around her instinctively.

The shouting became audible to everyone as the mist coalesced into two distinct forms.

Gaia materialized to my left, larger than I'd ever seen him, blazing with golden-green light. His teeth were bared in a snarl as he glared at the figure taking shape on my right.

Formed from dense black-red mist, Vlindakh stood tall and lean, his full beard framing a face both ancient and ageless. His crimson eyes burned like dying stars as he regarded the room's occupants with casual disdain.

Rekhael stumbled backward, nearly tripping over his own feet. Kli'Taka gasped, eyes wide with terror. Even Archimedes took a protective step toward Pip, who had dimmed to a frightened ember.

But Vlindakh paid them no mind. His burning gaze fixed solely on me, lips curving into a self-satisfied smirk.

"Hello, Kazro," he said, voice like velvet sliding over broken glass. "I'm glad to see you finally came to your senses." His smile widened, revealing teeth as sharp as daggers. "You'll be needing me in the coming days, because—as you'd put it in your world—Pandora's box is open. The Wielders beyond this region are aware of you, and now see you as a threat…”

His eyes gleamed as he leaned forward slightly.

"And you better get ready, because they're coming."

***

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The Adventure Continues in

The Legend of Kazro, Book 4

I am currently writing/dictating The Legend of Kazro, Book 4 with a publication date of August 18th, 2025

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Acknowledgements

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