The White Veyrith stretched out his arm, conjuring a lance of radiant light. With impossible speed he lunged.
"Here it comes!" Arthur roared, dragging Cael back as the ground exploded where they'd stood. The lance pierced empty sand, a hair's breadth from Arthur's face, only diverted by Henrietta's bolt that struck true.
Arthur panted, "Thanks, Henrietta. I owe you."
The White Veyrith stared at his weapon, then pressed forward, Arthur hurled Cael out of the way, commanding to his comrades. They moved as one, blades and steel clashing with the relentless storm of strikes, yet even their coordination faltered.
"He's got something else, hidden!" Maviz gasped, blood trickling from his cheek where an unseen blade had grazed him.
Arthur's eyes narrowed. "Then we do the usual. Don't hesitate!"
They surged again, but this time the Veyrith unleashed a shockwave, a surge of raw power erupted, hurling all four to the ground like ragdolls, sand and spray blood filled the air.
Henrietta staggered, only to be impaled through the chest. "No!" Maviz bellowed, charging blindly, then vanished, his vision spun as his head tumble from his shoulders. "Henrietta… Maviz!" Clyve's voice cracked, right before his body was cleaved apart in a single stroke.
Arthur realized it in his bones, they had never stood a chance.
The crowd screamed in delight. On the high seat, the masked figures leaned forward, pleased.
Arthur rose shakily, his voice was hoarse but fierce, "Kid, remember this… you were never weak. Behind that frail shell lies something even these monsters fear. My eyes can't fail me, and my heart knows, you are our salvation."
Then, tearing open his ragged shirt, he revealed the massive stigma carved across his back. "I fought it as long as I could. But no more... This, is farewell."
"Arthur, no!" Cael reached for him, paralyzed as his mentor's body convulsed. Scales erupted. Flesh tore. A grotesque, four-limbed beast replaced the man who had once was a virtuous human, with a final roar, he completed his transformation.
Arthur's hurled itself forward, claws like jagged blades closing around the White Veyrith, for a heartbeat, the arena trembled as if hope itself had taken hold.
But with effortless contempt, the White Veyrith flexed, a sickening crack followed Arthur's colossal hands crumbled, pulverized into shards of flesh and bone. The beast howled in agony, its grip shattered as though it had never mattered at all.
Then the lance pierced through Arthur's skull, his upper body disintegrated, raining blood upon Cael.
The arena erupted in thunderous cheers.
And then silence… the White Veyrith reached to his mask, peeled it away to wipe off blood and revealed a human face, fark hair, hollow eyes, an indifferent expression.
Cael's heart stopped. "You… you're human?! Why?!"
The man, said nothing, only sliding the mask back on.
A voice cut through the air like thunder, a second figure descended, the very air bent around him.
His thoughts invaded Cael's head, "Nicely done, my Veylan."
The White Veyrith, bowed his head reverently.
The master stepped forward, approaching the corpses of Cael's fallen allies. He raised a hand, and one by one, their essences were ripped free. "Precision… useful." Henrietta's body withered. "Brute strength. Fascinating." Maviz's corpse cracked apart. "Indomitable will. A fine addition." Clyve dissolved to dust.
Finally, he reached for Arthur's remains.
"Please!" Cael scrambled forward, throwing himself over the carcass. "Don't take him! Let him rest. He deserves peace. Just this once, please!"
The figure smiled without warmth. "Eltries. My name is Eltries, human. Ruler of this land, you dare bargain with me?"
Cael's head pounded, his thoughts no longer his own. "Telepathy…" he gasped.
"Everything in this world belongs to us," Eltries whispered into his soul. "Your body, your life, humans are nothing but our tools, a mere fuel."
He gestured at Blanc. "Behold your kin, a human, elevated to power equal to my people. He hunts his own to prove loyalty, that is the difference between you and him."
Blanc struck Cael, hurling him across the arena.
Eltries turned to Arthur's husk, but Cael staggered to his feet, dagger in hand,
"Hyahh!" he screamed, charging again and again despite his battered body, each strike was swatted aside, until Blanc drove a blade clean through his stomach.
Cael fell, choking on blood, yet still reaching forward.
Eltries leaned, his eyes beaming with curiosity. "Interesting, it seems this human failed to manifest, this one is zero."
Eltries's hand hovered over Cael's face. "But worry not," he whispered coldly. "I shall grant you a taste of power before you die."
A spark of energy flowed into Cael, his vision shifted, his eyes welled with a faint glow as the world around him change. Suddenly, every Veyrith burned before him, their bodies alive with iridescent flames of power. Arthur's aura flickered dimly, fragile as a dying ember, Atryache blazed like a storm barely contained. But above all Eltries… Eltries was something else entirely. His power rose like a pillar of fire, stretching to the skies, tethered to a vast floating fortress above the clouds, chains anchoring it down to the earth, one of them rooted deep into Eltries's very domain.
Cael's breath caught in his throat. "This is absurd… impossible!"
Eltries sneered. "Now that you see, let me take that from you. Perish, weak human."
Agony ripped through Cael as Eltries's hand closed, his soul felt as though it were being torn piece by piece, his stigma crawling across his flesh, spreading like wildfire. Blanc poised, readying himself for Cael's transformation.
But it never came.
Instead, Cael's body shuddered then steadied, he met Eltries's gaze, his eyes burning with desire, the stigma stopped its advance, as if bowing to his will.
With his dying breath he uttered a threat to all Veyrith.
"You monsters…" Cael growled, his voice trembling with fury. "I will kill you all. I will make you suffer as we suffered."
For the first time, Eltries's smile faltered, his brow furrowed as Cael's body erupted with a chilling burst of energy emanating across the arena, the air itself recoiling. Within it, Eltries felt something darker, deeper, bigger than himself, a presence like an abyss staring back.
Then, in an instant, Blanc's blade flashed, Cael's head fell, his body collapsing into dust that scattered into the wind.
Eltries lowered his gaze, staring at his palm. "…What was that?" he muttered, unsettled.
He noticed Arthur's body retracted back to its human form, his eyes widened in disbelief, "a power that can reverse a stigma? It can't be."
The crowd roared with cheers, Atryache rose, signaling the end of the spectacle. The masked aristocrats departed the arena in silence.
But Cael did not vanish completely.
Somewhere, drifting into darkness, falling, sinking deeper and deeper. He clawed and screamed, begging for release, for revenge. Hours, days, he raged unceasingly, his fury burning away reason, he no longer cared for hope, or light, or even himself, only vengeance.
And the darkness heeds his command.
Something stirred, twitching at his outstretched hand, he pushed harder, desperately. The abyss swirled, seemingly alive, answering him. Cael's lips twisted into a manic smile as shadows wrapped around him, crackling with raw energy.
He laughed as the void consumed him, laughed as he was being remade within an endless storm of shadow, a whisper in his heart promising power without end.
Locked away, gaining strength.
Cardaltha's stronghold stood tall with its walls layered with runes, towers like spears piercing the sky. In the heart of the city, the Grand Plaza erupted with life. Confetti rained in brilliant colors, banners rippled in the wind, and the air thundered with the roar of the Veyrith people, chanting their ruler's name.
Down the main road, a silver platform rolled forward, bearing Iridas Morfel in full majestic splendor. His suit was tailored to perfection, a white fitted coat trimmed in silver, its high collar etched with intricate patterns that gleamed in the sun. A deep crimson mantle, fastened by a silver clasp shaped like his nation's crest. Segmented plates of silver armor wrapped his chest and arms, a slim circlet of platinum rested on his brow, set with a blood-red jewel, his long white hair streamed behind him.
The roads were lined with Veyrith soldiers, armored in dark steel and bearing crimson-crested spears. To his people, he was not merely a ruler, he was the embodiment of strength, a living symbol of Cardaltha's unbreakable might.
His office sparkles like crystal, he sat elegantly to his seat, works neatly scattered on his table, his portrait hung behind him, he glanced at his glass window above, he looked at the eagle's eye view of his country, he rejoiced of his accomplishment, his beautiful secretary standing by on the sideline carrying notes, "This is such a magnificent view isn't it Laufrein ?" bowing her head she replied "Yes, m'lord", suddenly a knock on his door broke the tranquility.
A squad of Veyrith entered the chamber, mercenaries tasked with cleansing the land of its threats. They bowed low, their steps heavy, and dragged behind them two gagged and chained human slaves.
Vell, the sword fighter, spoke first. "Lord Morfel, we claimed the human garrison on the outskirts. Though few managed to flee, Reg'gel is in pursuit. We apologize for the minor setback."
Before he could continue, Oblek, the burly warrior, interjects, "One human manifested a rare skill we've never seen before. It disrupted our advance."
Morfel's brow furrowed, though he said nothing.
Laufrein, in her cold tone. "You incompetent lot dare present such failure before our lord? Execution would be too kind."
Jaune, the veiled mage, stepped forward, handed a sealed report to Laufrein, and quickly lowered herself back to the ground in silence.
Morfel took the document, leaned back into his seat, and began to read. "Hmm…" His silence made the room feel like stone pressing down on their chests.
Yufer, the cloaked assassin, tugged the slaves forward, tossing them at Morfel's feet, with a cruel display, he ripped away their gags. "Speak."
The woman with the side-braided hair lifted her head her eyes burned with defiance, a smile flickered across her lips as blood welled in her palm, hardening into a makeshift blade cutting through the chain, she lunged only to erupt in sudden white fire, in seconds, her body was nothing but drifting ash.
The man beside her broke immediately. Tears streamed down his face.
"Please, Lord! Spare me and I'll tell you everything!"
Morfel rested his chin on one hand, half-listening as he skimmed the report.
"Her name was Cher," the slave stammered. "She followed our leader, her father Garm. They head for the Crystal Forest even now. In two days they will regroup at the northern garrison. Please… please, I beg you…"
But Morfel had already risen, his back to the man as he gazed out across his gleaming city. The slave's smile of relief lasted only a heartbeat before his chest tightened. He clawed at his throat, eyes bulging, and then his body, too, was consumed by white flare.
"Find these rebels," Morfel commanded, his voice carrying like a blade through the chamber. "And bring them to me."
The four bowed in unison, without another word, they vanished into the shadows to carry out his will.
"Quickly Cher, we must hurry, they are still on us"
Cher caught her breath, her long hair tumbling over her shoulder. The slim lines of her form fit neatly with her light armor and single spaulder. For a moment, she thought they were safe, until her father, Garm, pressed a hand over her mouth and pulled her down beneath the thorny brush of a purple tree.
Masked Veyrith in light armor rushed past, the crystalline forest provides light that gleamed under the pale moon. Garm, spiky hair, eyepatch, and the weight of a scarred past, gestured for her to stay still. His sword lay at his side, ready.
One figure made them both tense, a mane-draped Veyrith, his body marked by countless battles. He dragged a massive sword across the ground, its weight leaving grooves in the crystal soil, smoke hissed from his lips as he knelt, blank eyes tracing the ground, suddenly, his blade swung toward the purple tree.
Steel cut cleanly but only a lesser beast fell in two. Cher and Garm held their breath, sweat beading on their skin as silence closed in.
Moments later, the patrol moved on.
Only then did Garm lead her deeper into the forest's glow. "We'll rest here for the night," he murmured, setting a small crystal that pulsed faint light, enough to ward off wandering beasts.
Cher broke the quiet. "Vinyl and Ton… do you think they're still alive?"
Her father didn't answer. Instead, he pulled a strip of jerky from his bag and tossed it into her hands. "Eat. You'll need your strength. We move again before dawn."
She pouted, chewing reluctantly. "This raid was a mistake. We shouldn't have helped them… not in Morfel's land."
Cher sighed, curling into her fur bedroll as sleep tugged at her. Garm remained awake, staring into the fractured night sky. His one good eye seemed far away, fixed not on the forest, but on thoughts of their world, and what had become of it.
Hour have passed before Garm's eye snapped open, the forest felt wrong, he shook his daughter gently. "Cher. Wake up. Something is coming."
From between the glowing trees, a hulking beast emerged, its body thick with muscle, grey fur bristling, fangs jutting upward past its jaw. A crystal club rested in its massive hand, red eyes burning like coals as its nostrils twitched.
Garm's gaze flicked to their bag. "The rations… the strong scent."
The beast growled, then charged, each step rattling the crystalline earth. Without hesitation, Garm hurled the bag aside, the monster seized it, crunching through leather and dried meat, swallowing it whole, then turned its fury back on them.
"Run!" Garm wanred.
They sprinted through the undergrowth, the creature pounding after them, its swings of the crystal club tearing through tree and stone alike. The ground trembled, Cher glanced back, "It's gaining, we'll be caught!" she clutches her hand with rune marking.
The beast roared, its voice echoing through the forest, drawing unseen eyes to their chase.
Then, a heavy impact coming from above.
The creature stumbled, bellowing in pain, a figure clung to its back, Reg'gel. His single arm clamped the beast's jaw in a grip of iron, with a sickening pull, he ripped its head free, spine dangling, blood pouring onto the roots. He stood beneath the moonlight, eyes glowing with an inhuman terror as they locked onto Garm and Cher.
Not too far away, the earth stirred.
In the silence of an open field, something pushed up through the soil, a black sprout, thin and wrong, oozing dark miasma like spilled ink, it grew rapidly, stretching yard high twisting skyward toward the moon, the air soured.
Out of curiosity, Veyrith soldiers drew near, circling it with weapons raised, tightening into unease.
They edged closer… closer… until the sprout convulsed.
From the churning miasma, tendrils lashed outward, black whips tipped with barbs, they struck with brutal speed, impaling flesh, shattering bone, screams tore through the night, then died abruptly as bodies were dragged down into the seething dark, the mass devoured them greedily, swallowing armor and steel alike.
The ground pulsed as if alive, beating with a monstrous heart, with every kill it swelled, throbbing in rhythm, growing, darkness spiraled upward in thick coils, curling into the sky like smoke from a burning world.
The thing was not merely feeding. It was becoming.
The forest returned still, the night was quiet. But blood had already begun to call for more.