The winds howled as the trio—Ashen, Lyra, and the protagonist—approached the foot of Mount Varion. The mountain was a jagged scar against the sky, its peak lost to swirling black clouds. Ancient legends spoke of it as a sacred place, where mana and matter thinned, and old powers still lingered, restless.
The ground was hot beneath their boots, pulsing with residual energy from the Shrines' awakening. Emberfang's presence inside the protagonist stirred, restless.
"Something's wrong," Lyra said, her hand tightening around her blade.
Ashen gave a grim nod. "I feel it too. The Void's tendrils are already burrowed deep into the mountain's heart. Whatever was imprisoned here... it's close to breaking free."
The protagonist scanned the jagged ridges ahead. "Then we don't have time to waste."
They pushed forward, weaving through charred trees and splintered stone. Blackened husks of once-mighty beasts littered the foothills—each one corrupted and hollowed out by Void energy. Their glassy eyes stared accusingly at the sky.
—
As they ascended, the pressure grew. Mana twisted unnaturally in the air, making it harder to breathe. Strange whispers slithered through the wind, promises of power, of salvation—if only they would surrender.
Ashen was the first to react, slamming the butt of his spear into the ground.
"Ignore the voices," he barked. "They're bait. Echoes left by the Seared One's fall."
Lyra stepped closer to the protagonist. "Stay with me," she whispered.
Their fingers brushed briefly before they drew apart again, the tension between them as thick as the mountain air.
Then, ahead, the path widened into a broken amphitheater of ancient stone, centered around a cracked obsidian monolith.
Atop it stood a figure.
Kael.
But not the Kael they remembered.
This Kael was draped in a cloak woven from Void threads, his silver hair wild, his skin marked by faint cracks glowing with purple light. His eyes gleamed with an unsettling hunger.
"So," Kael said, voice carrying unnaturally across the distance. "The little flame has come to flicker one last time."
Ashen bristled. "Kael, this isn't you. Break free of it!"
Kael smiled, cold and razor-sharp. "I broke free the moment I saw the truth. Fire, beasts, shrines—they're all relics of a broken world. The Void is the only path forward."
The protagonist stepped forward, the air crackling around him.
"You chose corruption."
"I chose survival."
Kael raised one hand—and the dead obeyed.
All around the amphitheater, the shattered corpses of corrupted beasts stirred. Bones snapped back into place. Flesh knitted itself with oily tendrils of Void matter. In seconds, a horde stood between them and Kael.
Lyra drew her sword. "We fight our way through."
"No," said the protagonist, voice low. His aura ignited with a roaring inferno, a blazing shockwave that sent the first wave of undead staggering backward.
"I'll carve the path."
—
The battle exploded into chaos.
Ashen and Lyra moved as a lethal pair—Ashen sweeping with broad, devastating arcs of his spear, Lyra darting with surgical strikes—but the protagonist was the storm at the center.
Every swing of his hand unleashed arcs of searing flame. His movements blurred, each step a thunderclap of power.
The dead tried to swarm him.
They burned.
Tendrils of Void matter lashed at him.
They incinerated on contact.
Kael watched from the monolith, smiling darkly. His voice echoed.
"Burn brighter, little flame. Show me how far you've come."
The protagonist hurled himself forward, body blazing with aura. Every footstep left molten craters. Every breath was fire.
But just as victory seemed within reach, Kael gestured—and a colossal, Void-forged beast tore itself free from the mountain wall. A fusion of serpent and wolf, its body pulsed with dozens of Void crystals embedded like tumors.
It lunged.
Straight at Lyra.
She slashed upward, but the beast was faster. It caught her across the side, tossing her like a rag doll into a boulder. She collapsed, blood staining the ground.
"LYRA!"
The protagonist saw red.
His aura detonated, rippling outward in a shockwave that staggered even the massive beast.
He sprinted to Lyra, skidding to his knees beside her. She was breathing—but barely. Blood dripped from a gash across her ribs, and her left leg bent at an unnatural angle.
"I'm okay," she gasped, trying to rise.
"You're not," he said, rage sharpening every word. He set her down gently, touching her forehead.
"I'll end this."
—
He stood slowly, turning back toward Kael.
The Void beast roared, but the protagonist didn't flinch.
His flames darkened—burning blue-white now, hotter, purer.
This wasn't just fire anymore. It was resolve.
Lines of light seared the ground at his feet.
He walked forward, step by step, the beast charging to meet him.
As it lunged, he thrust both hands forward—and a beam of condensed mana-fire erupted from his core, punching straight through the beast's head. It collapsed instantly, a smoking ruin.
Kael's smirk faltered.
The protagonist kept walking, unrelenting.
"You want to see how far I've come?" his voice thundered, layered with Emberfang's rumble.
He punched upward—and a pillar of fire shot into the clouds, parting the swirling darkness for a heartbeat. The entire mountain seemed to shudder beneath the force.
Kael raised his arms to summon more dead—but this time, they refused him. His magic stuttered, unraveled by the sheer presence of the protagonist's aura.
"You're too late," Kael hissed. "You can't stop what's coming."
The protagonist's eyes burned like twin suns.
"I don't have to stop it," he said, stepping closer. "I just have to make sure you're not here to see it."
He struck.
Kael barely blocked the first blow, his blade screeching against a shield of Void mana.
The second blow shattered the shield.
The third sent Kael crashing into the monolith, cracking the stone.
Blood dripped from Kael's mouth. He laughed, bitterly.
"You think this is victory? It's only the first crack in the dam."
The protagonist grabbed him by the cloak, lifting him off the ground.
"If the dam breaks," he said coldly, "I'll be there to drown you in the flood."
He slammed Kael down, knocking him unconscious.
Silence reigned, broken only by the hiss of steam rising from the scorched earth.
—
Ashen rushed to Lyra, beginning to bind her wounds. She grimaced but managed a weak smile.
"You... really lit him up," she rasped.
The protagonist knelt beside her, brushing her hair gently from her face.
"You're not allowed to die," he said softly.
"I wasn't planning on it," she murmured.
Their eyes locked—and for a long, suspended moment, nothing else existed. The fire, the mountain, the darkness—all faded.
But before they could close the distance, a deep rumble shook the earth.
The monolith behind them cracked open—and a fissure of Void energy burst skyward, lancing into the heavens.
Something ancient and monstrous stirred beneath the mountain.
Something worse than Kael.
The protagonist turned, shielding Lyra with his body as waves of dark mana crashed outward.
Above them, a voice—not Kael's—whispered on the wind.
"The true hunt begins."
—