“Are you sure the guardian shouldn’t accompany us, my dy?” one of the monks asked the priestess.

  “You know very well that his task is more important than our lives. Even if this entire kingdom is consumed, he must maintain his role for eternity.”

  The monk understood, but couldn’t help frowning. “I believe that’s why it’s so vital that he comes with us… as well as the prisoner. That demon’s priests are too strange. I think there’s still something we can get out of him.”

  “Too risky. Either you’re greatly overestimating our strength or you’re grossly underestimating our prisoner.”

  “She’s just a seer. A seer who has been weakened for decades.”

  “I’ll tell you one thing. Of all those you should be wary of, it’s not warriors or assassins. It’s those who can see the future.”

  “Why do they know what you’re going to do?” “No, why are they so upset about what might happen?”

  “What does—?”

  Her words died as the very ground trembled. Around her, the stone warriors stood guard.

  In the direction of the castle, a battle raged between the main forces. Monstrous birds with lion-like bodies circled the sky, while a tide of corrupted corpses struggled to reach the conflict. Even so, that shouldn't be a problem.

  So, what was happening?

  As their steps led them through the city streets, a faint ringing grew louder, like a long toll echoing through the city. Then Saint turned.

  Her sword moved, ready to decapitate her target, but stopped. The stone bde of her sword hovered millimeters from the neck of the young priestess, who didn't look at her with fear, but with a small smile.

  “You really are special, aren’t you, Saint? I wonder if all your sisters are like this, or if Nether gave you special attention. But that wouldn’t be very like him, would it?”

  Saint’s crimson eyes fshed, but he didn’t move.

  “By the gods… What do you think you’re doing?!”

  “I knew we couldn’t trust a demon’s puppets.”

  The monks quickly drew their weapons, seemingly stunned by the reaction. But the other side remained calm, their gaze still fixed on the priestess.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked, tilting her head slightly.

  Saint’s sword moved aside. Not out of trust, but purpose. Unless her life was threatened, the mission was more important. Besides, there was something more important to pay attention to.

  The tremor hadn’t stopped; instead, it only seemed to grow. But now it was clear: it wasn’t being caused by the battle at the castle; instead, it was coming from beneath their feet.

  From different points in the city, an explosion bsted through the stone structures. It wasn’t caused by an attack or the appearance of a giant enemy.

  Instead, it was a simple skeleton that escaped from the earth—or rather, hundreds of them. From the depths of the catacombs, an army of the undead flooded the streets like a tide.

  “N-no, it can’t be. They’re all the sacrifices of the past.”

  “We have to get back to the church!” “It’s too te,” the priestess interrupted with a hauntingly loud voice. “They haven’t surrounded us, and you must remember… that our sole purpose is to keep the key to the cell away. Now we can only move forward.” Her words were heavy, den with a truth they were unwilling to believe. Why stay when they could return to the hidden chamber? But neither the priestess nor the stone warriors thought the same.

  Their mission wasn’t to die hidden beneath the same chapel, but to advance, no matter the cost.

  The stone warriors deployed as one, eliminating the skeletons that approached at great speed. Their ranks were diverse, from sleepers to awakened to ascended, but luckily, there were no transcendent among them.

  But that didn’t mean they were safe. Their numbers were vastly superior, forcing them to retreat. Their guardians were strong and skilled; there was no doubt that if they went it alone, they could find the cause or at least escape. But her mission y with those fragile humans.

  “Even being so strong, you can’t do anything when the world itself is suffocating you. Isn’t that unfair?” the priestess wondered; her gaze lost in thought.

  She didn’t dare look at the shattered bodies of her comrades, nor at the skeletal faces of those her kingdom sacrificed for its own safety.

  No, instead, she focused the heat of the metal key against her chest, firmly reciting the prayers to her deity.

  A thundercp split the sky, as the heavens themselves tore apart. She couldn’t help but look up, mesmerized by the horror coursing through her body.

  Around her, the battle only intensified, but to her, the entire pce seemed to fall silent.

  …

  Saint surveyed the battlefield with a tranquility uncharacteristic of the situation. Around him, a tide of undead surged forward like an endless tide. His brothers, skilled fighters, held the line, but for how long?

  The battle itself seemed strange, senseless. Around him, a strange presence creeped, making the air heavy, permeating the world with a suffocating will.

  This shouldn't be happening. This was a cleansing mission, just one more step toward something greater. A crusade worthy of their strength, and yet, their blood was already spilling onto the cold ground of the pza.

  In the distance, the battle between the most powerful among them only seemed more violent, with no sign of abating. Even so, his mind remained calm, not by choice, but because it was his duty to continue the fight even when he sensed something else was happening.

  It was then that his vision caught something, a golden glimmer amidst the traces of decay. A single skeleton, stronger than the others, slowly approached. But its appearance was unlike any other; where its head should have been, there were instead seven, all observing the battlefield with unusual attention.

  The central head, with a golden crown on its shattered skull, seemed to be uttering some words, but amidst the chaos, its words were lost to almost everyone, almost…

  “A promise finally fulfilled.” The woman’s voice, the priestess’s, mingled with the chorus of screams. She took a few steps forward, her gaze unfocused, like someone seeing something that isn’t right in front of them. Saint grabbed her arm, shoving her back.

  The woman fell to the ground abruptly, but she didn’t flinch; instead, she smiled. “Oh, what joy. So many years of waiting, but it’s finally over.”

  The undead king stirred, letting out a scream that shook the entire city. The stone warriors moved, now identifying the main threat. If they eliminated him, that entire horde would be finished.

  The skeletons that accompanied him moved as one, not to win, but to hold back the warriors as if they were walls.

  “Darkness, pure and cold darkness. Our goddess turned her gaze from us, but now it’s clear that it was still watching us.” She turned just a few inches, but it was clear that she was looking at her.

  “Oh, you must truly be loved by destiny. Loved by her, loved by him, loved by it. May you serve it well, so that this darkness does not consume my precious light.”

  The ground trembled, and from the earth itself, a bony arm emerged, trapping the priestess between its phanges. There was no scream, only a cracking sound as blood spurted between the bones.

  The street seemed to fall silent as the army appeared to grasp something important before retreating.

  Saint's eyes focused on the creature's figure. She hesitated for a split second, deciding whether to pursue it, but the decision was quickly made, not out of will, but out of necessity.

  Now that their mission had failed, they had to support the rest of their forces in destroying the corrupt being that dwelled in the crimson tower. It was logical, it was clear, but it was futile.

  A bolt of lightning pierced the sky as raindrops fell upon them. Looking up, they watched as the ancient, corrupted sun was extinguished, but not by their brethren. High atop the tower, a vortex of storms merged with a hurricane, and in its midst, the floating figure of a corrupted angel rose.

  Even miles away, it will weigh upon the world like an anchor. Both she and her brethren fell to their knees, unable to move. That being emanated divinity, but at the same time, an intense seed of corruption.

  The sun itself seemed to extinguish, deprived of all its vitality, until only a single spark remained. Then, the ancient three-eyed angel exploded, as if her body could no longer withstand the evil contained within.

  A tide of thick bck smoke engulfed the castle, then the city, and finally the entire remaining kingdom. The thick cloud of decay stained the rain, turning the water droplets into quicklime tar.

  Saint trembled, not from fear or cold, but from a terror born in her soul. Tears of tar seemed to flow from the entrails of her and her siblings, but none of it mattered to them. The pain was too much; the anger, the hunger, emotions they weren't even capable of feeling, tried to erupt without purpose.

  Then she screamed in pain.

  …

  Her eyes opened heavily, while a chill froze her body. A feeling she had only experienced once before, hundreds of years ago.

  Around her, the shadows continued their march, their gaze lost on the horizon. She herself tried to move, but her body didn't respond, acting like the puppet of something unknown.

  “R?E?C?L?A?I?M?”

  And the whispers… or the whispers. Trying to penetrate her mind, to break what remained of her wretched soul. She so desperately wanted to silence them, but they didn't come from anyone around her, but from her own shadow.

  WEAVER… or rather, her shadow. She had obtained that fragment of her legacy in the Hollow Mountains, but she was more than aware that she wasn't prepared to control whatever such a thing was. Luckily, she had been able to seal it within one of her cores with the help of her father and the shadows that lurked in the underworld.

  But that ended the moment she mutited her own soul in order to escape. Without will, without her shadow, without the protections of another demon, she was vulnerable. But even so, all she heard were whispers.

  Not a physical blow, not an act to break her soul. Just whispers, she scoffed, a mere shadow, an echo of the past. A fragment of will from someone who was supposed to have been dead for eons.

  Here… dismissing it as an imposter, a mistake.

  Her eyes, dull and lifeless, flickered with a spark of strength.

  What folly, not only the demon's feeble attempt to usurp her mind, but also the stupidity of her own actions.

  Throwing herself into the realm of shadows, a zone of death for her current strength, hoping for some miracle that would allow her to ascend as a transcendent being. A feeble attempt for a feeble will.

  She was strong, she was ruthless, she possessed the mental fortitude to keep going without faltering, but all of this was not the result of a will to change the world, to reshape reality according to her own desires, because she had none. Only a dream passed down from her father to all his creations.

  How weak, how weak and how naive she was. It was no wonder she ended up like this, as just another shadow without will, walking to the gates of Shadow's heart. She had failed, not in strength, but in understanding what had drawn her so deeply upon seeing the shifting star. The spark of desire.

  She stopped abruptly, allowing the shadows that walked around her to pass through her. Her eyes, dulled by exhaustion, were revitalized.

  With an even greater effort, she looked around at the vast expanse of wastends of fine, white sand and the shadow figures moving slowly. They were humans, nightmare creatures, and even shadows of inanimate beings, all flowing like a river toward the center, where she could feel it. That heartbeat that had been urging her closer since she arrived.

  Shadow's heart.

  Lowering her gaze, she ignored everything around her, ignored the sharp pain in her heart that splintered her conscience and the whispers that urged her to release her shadow so it could fulfill its purpose.

  Then she raised her head, directing her gaze to the hill of a mountain made of ancient bones, where a dark stone temple stood like an illusion.

  She could feel it, the brush of fate's threads pulling her toward its doors. She crushed that sensation. The shadows seemed to waver around her, unconsciously surrounding her.

  The path was clear, destiny seemed to have made its choice. And what about her? How was she going to take this path?

  A raven's crow echoed in the distance; a sound too loud for a pce so devoid of them. Even so, her eyes remained fixed on her own shadows, those that had been with her since the beginning of her journey.

  They couldn't speak; both the serpent and the shadow of her former master were so damaged that they hadn't yet recovered, and yet she felt their presence, like a warm embrace that wouldn't fade… and then there was Weavel's shadow.

  A strange presence, an entity she had distrusted from the very first moment.

  Then she felt a new emotion: anger.

  Why did she have to keep dealing with this?

  Her legs moved forward, with clumsy steps that made her stumble every now and then, but she continued, advancing toward the nameless temple, not out of that sense of inevitability, but out of a fury at what she had been chained to.

  …

  The figure of the battered statue stopped halfway. Without any sign of recognition, only confusion and weariness.

  The arrowhead aligned with her heart, and as the bow silently drew back, the huntress didn't exhale, didn't prepare twice.

  She had been searching for far too long, far too long for such a small prey. But she sensed it; she had to end this thing now, or it would become a real problem ter.

  It was then that the caw of a crow alerted her. Instantly, her bow moved, firing her arrow without hesitation at the one who had discovered her. But her enemy, hovering dozens of meters ahead, vanished in motes of light even before her arrow was released.

  But the huntress had already seen her enemy, or rather, their eyes had met. The huntress remained motionless for a second before disappearing to retrieve her arrow.

  She wasn't allowed to hunt in this area for too long, for Shadow's will still lingered in these nds. Her gaze once more drifted to the river of shadows that flowed toward the heart of the kingdom before she withdrew. She had already destroyed that statue and hadn't even recovered half of what she had lost; it was time to embark on a more productive hunt.

  She walked away resolutely, but she couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong… at least, not until corruption flooded her mind with anger and confusion.