The air buckled around the blade. Its hum was not music but a growl, a pulse that rattled through the bones of everyone still standing in the ruined throne room. Dust fell from the cracked arches above, shaken loose by the power that trembled at the sword's edge.
Alric's boots scraped across broken marble. His breath hitched with every step, shoulders shuddering beneath the weight of two wars—the chains tugging him back, the sword pulling him forward.
Dafros loomed behind the smoke, the chains slack at his sides but coiled like predators ready to strike. Yet he did not move. The faceless shadow bent low, like a wolf watching a cub wander into a den of teeth.
The seer's voice cut through the static in the air. Her staff glowed faintly, though her strength wavered."Alric—stop. That weapon is not a gift. It devours. If you touch it, you will bind your soul to something older than gods. Do you understand? Older than chaos itself."
Alric staggered, his knees threatening to fold, but his eyes never left the sword. Sweat ran in rivers down his face, hissing where it touched the searing metal of the ring."I understand," he rasped. "But chains… devour too."
The seer reached for him, but her arm faltered, trembling too violently to stretch further.
Riven coughed blood against the pillar, teeth bared in something between a grimace and a grin. "If the boy wants the fang, let him take it. Can't be worse than dancing on strings."
Alric's hand shook as he reached the hilt.
The instant his fingers brushed the steel, the world screamed.
Light—neither flame nor sun—exploded outward, raw and merciless. The ground split beneath his feet. The throne shattered into fragments. Sigils, long buried beneath the palace, flared and burned away in the same breath.
Alric cried out, but his grip did not break. With a final, ragged heave, he tore the Fang of Kayssel from the stone.
The chains snapped taut. Dafros recoiled, his shadow-body writhing like smoke pulled into a storm.The sword's aura did not slice his form—it ripped through memory. Where the blade's light touched, Dafros flickered: a battlefield burning, a temple drowned, a thousand oaths sworn in blood—all unraveling into nothing.
The faceless giant howled, its voice tearing at the stone."You dare—little flame—you dare wield that fang against me?"
The throne room quaked. Runes bled from the walls, their ancient wards twisting into black streams. From the fractures, something worse bled in: a wing's shadow blotted light that wasn't there, a footfall like mountains collapsing, laughter like knives dragged across glass.
The other commanders had stirred. Seraphis. Baelgrund. Vex.
Their presence pressed on the chamber like an ocean on glass, straining to break through.
The seer screamed against the pressure, clutching her staff with both hands. "He has called them! The four—he wakes them all!"
She drove her staff into the earth, her body convulsing as she tried to seal the breach. But the backlash struck like lightning. She crumpled, her hand sizzling where the staff had scorched her palm.
Riven lurched forward, swordless but unyielding. He caught her before the shadow could devour her. "Stay awake, witch. Don't give the bastards the satisfaction."
Dafros rose higher, his chains whipping through the air."Strike me, heir. Claim your rebellion. But know—if you wound me, if you truly cut me—my brothers and sister will walk this world again."
His voice thundered with triumph, even as the sword's glow burned holes through his shadowed limbs. "You cannot win. With me bound, you are chained. With me broken, you are doomed."
The ring burned against Alric's skin, a molten brand. His veins flared red, chaos roiling like molten iron in his blood. His whole body shook as though caught between two storms—the Fang dragging him one way, the Ring the other.
His voice cracked as he roared back:"Then let the world decide which chain it hates more!"
He raised the Fang overhead, the sword howling like a beast starved, and brought it crashing down upon Dafros's chains.
The impact was not sound but silence—a silence so absolute it crushed breath from lungs. Then, with a shriek that split the marrow of the earth, the Fang devoured.
The chains did not shatter. They vanished. Whole lengths of Dafros's being dissolved into the sword, sucked screaming into its edge. The shadow writhed, staggering, clutching at itself like a man watching his flesh melt from bone.
"No—no! That fang is not yours! It was promised to the abyss, not to you!"
But the sword drank. Piece by piece, it fed on Dafros, until the giant reeled back, staggering toward the rift yawning in the broken air.
A single wing, vast and terrible, unfurled from the portal—its feathers molten obsidian, its eyes like dying suns. Seraphis.A colossal hand gripped the edge, nails like towers—Baelgrund.And from the crack between worlds, a laugh spilled, high and sharp, scattering reason like chaff—Vex.
Dafros's voice thundered as his form disintegrated:"You've marked yourself, heir. The four will not forgive this. You are ours now—you are—"
His final word was swallowed as the portal collapsed inward, dragging what remained of him into the void.
The rift sealed with a scream, leaving only silence, rubble, and the lingering pulse of the Fang.
Alric stood swaying, sword in one hand, ring blazing on the other. His knees buckled, and he collapsed, bracing himself against the weapon as though it were the only anchor left in the world.
The seer, her face white with fear, whispered hoarsely:"You should not have touched it. By wielding the Fang of Kayssel, you've unchained more than Dafros. You've bound yourself to the hunger of the dragon. It will not stop until it has consumed all will—including yours."
Riven coughed and limped forward, wiping blood from his chin. He glanced at the sword, then at the boy half-buried in its glow. His tone was bitter, but a reluctant fire lingered in his eyes."Well. If he's doomed, then so are we. Might as well make the doom cut sharp."
Alric lifted his head, his eyes bloodshot, his body trembling with exhaustion. The ring still burned, but for the first time, it felt afraid.His voice was raw, little more than a rasp:"I am not chains. I am not shadow. I am not dragon. I am Alric. And they will remember my name."
The Fang of Kayssel hummed, as if in answer—hungry, waiting.
And the silence of the throne room roared louder than fire