The silence was unnerving. Shadows slithered like oil along the walls of the chasm, twisting and writhing, obedient to Alaric's will. His new form—dark and spectral—felt strange yet powerful, each movement a blend of physical force and shadowy intent. His fingers twitched, and a plume of shadow coiled from his hands, twisting into sharp, serrated edges that shifted as he moved.
He emerged from the depths of the chasm, his eyes scanning the world he had left behind. It was night, with only a sliver of moonlight casting a faint glow over the land. But even in the dimness, his sight was clearer than it had ever been. He could see every stone, every faint whisper of movement in the trees. A gift from the darkness he now wielded.
In the distance, the faint glow of a campfire broke through the trees. Alaric's smirk returned, his heart pulsing with the cold thrill of vengeance. Raith's men were camped nearby, oblivious to his survival. His mind pulsed with the System's notification:
[Quest: The Path of Vengeance]
Objective: Reclaim your title and begin the conquest of those who betrayed you. Progress: 0%
Reward: Shadowborn Awakening Skill Level 2**
He moved with silence, his steps more a whisper of wind than footsteps. The night cloaked him, bending to his will as if he had been born in the shadows. As he approached the camp, he could make out the shapes of Raith's soldiers—three of them, their armor glinting faintly in the firelight, relaxed and unaware.
One soldier chuckled, taking a swig from a flask. "A pity Raith didn't let us finish him off," he muttered, his words laced with disdain. "Would've been satisfying to watch that arrogant commander fall."
The second soldier shrugged. "Does it matter? He's dead now, swallowed by that cursed chasm. No man survives that fall."
Alaric's smirk deepened, his eyes cold and calculating. He raised a hand, and the shadows obeyed, weaving into a thick fog that crept across the ground, winding its way around the soldiers. The laughter and idle chatter died, replaced by a nervous silence.
"Did… did you see that?" the first soldier asked, glancing around, his hand drifting to his sword.
"See what?" replied the second, though his voice shook with unease. "There's nothing here but shadows and fog."
"Oh, but there is," Alaric's voice echoed from the darkness, low and menacing, a whisper that slithered into their minds like poison.
The soldiers stiffened, eyes wide with terror. They spun around, weapons drawn, but their blades met only empty air. Alaric moved through the shadows, his form flickering like smoke, unbound by the limitations of flesh.
"Who's there?" the third soldier shouted, his voice trembling. "Show yourself!"
Alaric stepped into the firelight, his new form casting a shadow that seemed to stretch endlessly. His eyes, burning with dark fire, locked onto the soldiers. Recognition flickered in their faces, followed swiftly by horror.
"Y-you… you're dead!" one of them stammered, his sword shaking in his grasp.
"Not quite," Alaric replied, his voice a venomous whisper. "Death has only made me stronger."
The shadows responded to his will, creeping up from the ground, wrapping around the soldiers' legs and arms, binding them in place. They struggled, but it was useless. The more they fought, the tighter the shadows coiled, until their screams filled the night.
With a flick of his wrist, Alaric commanded the shadows to lift them, suspending them in midair. Their faces contorted with terror, and Alaric felt a dark satisfaction bloom within him.
"Remember this night," he said, his voice a deadly calm. "Remember the price of betrayal."
He closed his hand into a fist, and the shadows surged, closing in around the soldiers' throats. Their struggles ceased, and silence returned to the camp, save for the crackling of the fire and the rustle of the wind.
[Quest Updated: The Path of Vengeance – Progress: 10%]
Alaric turned away from the camp, his gaze falling upon the distant lights of the city he once called home. His thoughts drifted to Raith, the traitorous nobles, and the king who had abandoned him so easily. This was only the beginning. The shadows whispered promises of power, of armies yet to be summoned, of dominion waiting to be seized.
But first, he needed to claim his strength.
The System pulsed again:
[New Skill Unlocked: Shadow Manipulation Level 1]
The knowledge flooded his mind, a dark tide of insight. He could shape shadows not only as weapons but as conduits of his will. With practice, they could hide him, deceive his enemies, and even entrap the souls of those who dared oppose him. The possibilities were intoxicating.
Alaric raised his hands, watching the shadows coil around his fingers, bending and twisting to his command. He felt the hunger of the darkness, its insatiable desire for conquest, and he welcomed it. He had been reborn, a force of vengeance and darkness incarnate, and the world would know his wrath.
His journey back to power had begun.