Callan dropped to one knee, his sword planted in the ground, chest heaving. Steam rose from the blade where the last of the shadow creature's essence evaporated. His hands trembled—not from fear, but from the rush of raw power that still echoed in his limbs. They had survived, but barely.
Around him, his companions gathered—wounded, bloodied, but alive.
Solenne was already tending to Ren's injuries, her magic pulsing with warmth. Shura stood vigil at the perimeter, eyes narrowed as she watched the treeline with predator-like focus. The forest had gone silent again, but this time, the quiet wasn't tranquil—it was the kind that came before a greater storm.
"That one was different," Ren muttered, wincing as Solenne's light sealed a nasty gash across his ribs. "Stronger. Smarter. Like it was thinking."
"It was," Callan said grimly. "That was a warden—one of the old shadows from the void. We're not dealing with just corrupted beasts anymore. These things have a hierarchy."
He sheathed his sword and stood, the weight of the realization pressing on him. If wardens had begun to manifest in the physical world, then it meant the seal that once kept the Void Realm apart was weakening faster than anticipated.
"We have to get to the Sanctuary," Solenne said. "There's still time, but not much. If the Heart Crystal hasn't been compromised, we might be able to reinforce the barrier."
Callan nodded. The Hidden Sanctuary wasn't just a myth. It was a sacred place, built in the aftermath of the Demon General's fall—his fall. It held the last of the world's ancient magic, the remnants of the pact made to keep the darkness at bay.
But getting there would not be easy.
They began moving again, leaving behind the battlefield where the corrupted creature had fallen. The path grew more treacherous the deeper they went—winding ravines, shifting terrain, and unnatural storms that crackled with magic. The air itself felt heavy, warped by unstable leylines.
After hours of travel, they reached the valley where the Sanctuary was said to lie hidden. What they found instead sent a cold chill down their spines.
Smoke. Ash. And silence.
The sanctuary had been breached.
Ancient stone towers lay crumbled, their runes flickering with dying energy. The central obelisk—the Heart Crystal's housing—was shattered, pieces of luminous blue gemstone scattered like broken stardust across the ground.
Callan stepped forward slowly, feeling the pressure in his chest build with each step.
"No," Solenne whispered. "It can't be."
Callan bent down, picking up a shard of the Heart Crystal. As his fingers closed around it, he felt a surge of chaotic magic course through him—a discordant echo of what once had been harmony.
"They've already been here," he said. "And they've taken it."
From the shadows of the broken sanctuary, a figure stepped into view.
She was tall, draped in a cloak woven of night. Her face was veiled, but her presence was unmistakable—ancient, powerful, and deeply familiar.
"Hello, my fallen general," the woman said, voice silky and sharp. "Did you really think we wouldn't come for you?"
Callan narrowed his eyes. "You. I remember you."
"Good. Then remember this," she said, lifting a pale hand. The ground beneath them cracked, and tendrils of black mist shot upward, swirling into the shape of monstrous hounds. Their eyes glowed red, and their bodies radiated with void energy.
"Because this time, you won't be running."
Callan barely had time to call out a warning before the beasts lunged. Shura met them head-on, blades dancing as she moved between them, striking with deadly precision. Ren let out a roar and charged the largest hound, his blade igniting with lightning.
Solenne summoned a barrier of light, protecting Callan as he stared down the veiled woman.
"You were one of the Seven," he said. "You served me… once."
"I served the promise of a better world," she replied. "But you betrayed it. You turned your back on destiny. Now we correct your mistake."
"You think destruction is the answer?"
She laughed—a haunting sound, hollow and full of bitterness.
"Destruction is rebirth. The old world must fall, so the new one can rise. You, of all people, should understand that."
Callan's hands tightened on his sword.
"I did once. Until I realized the cost."
Their clash was inevitable. He surged forward, blade blazing, and she answered with a flick of her wrist, summoning a wave of void energy that collided with his strike in a thunderous explosion. The impact sent shockwaves across the shattered sanctuary, knocking debris into the air and cracking the already fractured ground.
Their powers clashed again and again—fire against shadow, will against destiny. Around them, the others fought the monstrous hounds, struggling to keep the tide from overwhelming them.
Then, suddenly, everything stopped.
The woman stepped back, her expression unreadable. "You're stronger than before," she said. "But not strong enough."
She snapped her fingers, and the void beasts dissolved into mist.
"I've delivered the message. The next time we meet, I will not be merciful."
She vanished, disappearing into a vortex of darkness, leaving behind only the devastation and the knowledge that this was just the beginning.
Callan dropped to one knee again, not from fatigue—but fury.
"We're running out of time," Solenne said.
"No," Callan muttered. "We still have time. And I'm done running."
He rose slowly, flames licking at his shoulders, his aura surging.
"They want war," he said. "Then we give them one."