Wind furiously fluttered Kazel's hair and clothes as he was dragged backward, swallowed by the dark throat of the ruin. Yet his gaze remained locked on Okhist—icy, unyielding—until the last lick of torchlight abandoned him, leaving only the abyss.
The chain rattled like a predator's laughter.
"Let's dance then," Kazel muttered, lips curving into a cold smile.
His body twisted mid-air, spine coiling like a spring. With a snap, his leg whipped out in a wide arc.
"AMPLIFY!"
The word tore from his throat, and power surged into his strike. His foot collided against something hidden in the black, something soft yet dense—flesh. A wet, yielding sensation reverberated up his leg, followed by a muffled crunch.
The chain slackened instantly, its grip faltering. Then—
BOOOOM!
A thunderous impact exploded from the darkness, the sound echoing through the ruin like a cannon blast. Dust rained from the ceiling, the floor quaked beneath the knights' boots.
For a breathless moment, the ruin held its silence. All that lingered was the acrid tang of blood carried by the draft, and the echo of Kazel's defiance reverberating within the unseen depths.
In the pitch-black void, the chain slid lifelessly to the stone floor, leaving Kazel unbound. He didn't move right away—he stood, breathing slow, letting the silence press in. His nose twitched faintly.
There it was.
The musk of damp stone. The copper tang of blood still dripping from the corpse dragged earlier. And layered above it, sharp and cutting—hunger. A feral, gnawing hunger that wanted to devour him whole.
But woven deep within that killing intent, just faint enough to almost hide—Kazel caught it.
Fear.
His lips curled. A smirk glimmered in the dark.
"You reek of it," he whispered into the void, his voice calm, mocking. "A spirit beast that fears before it feasts."
The draft shifted—something massive breathing. Claws scraped against stone.
Kazel's hand slid to his side, fingers flexing in readiness. His blue eyes narrowed, burning like cold fire though no light revealed them.
"Good," he muttered, teeth flashing in the dark. "Let me carve that fear deeper."
From the void, Kazel pulled a blade from his spatial ring. The steel gleamed faintly before the dark swallowed it whole. He didn't care. His stride was deliberate, every step letting the sound echo against the stone walls.
"I'm here," his voice carried, sharp as steel. "What are you waiting for?"
The chain beneath his boots rattled—alive, dragging, pulling. Kazel smirked, teeth catching the unseen glow of his intent. He broke into a dash, reckless, tyrannous, like a predator hunting blind but unafraid.
His sword cleaved down with a howl of wind.
CLANG! Sparks burst against the dark. His strike met resistance—a claw, short and sharp, intercepting the edge.
But the air shifted. A shadow behind him moved.
Kazel's eyes narrowed. His body twisted. The heavy blade swept past where his spine had been a breath ago, biting into stone instead. Dust and shards sprayed into the suffocating black.
His smirk widened.
"Not bad."
Kazel's ears twitched, straining for the faintest tremor. His blade slid back into guard, his stance coiled like a spring. The darkness pressed close, suffocating, but he welcomed it.
A whip-crack of a chain lashed forward from the left. Kazel pivoted, the steel grazing his shoulder, sparks bursting as his sword met it mid-swing. The impact sang across the chamber, steel shrieking against steel.
The beast tugged. The chain recoiled. Kazel didn't resist—he stepped into it, closing the distance. His boot struck stone, hard, echoing—deliberate bait.
A hiss answered him. Something wet, rancid, breath thick with copper. The scent of a predator.
Kazel grinned.
He slashed low, a brutal horizontal arc. The edge bit—flesh, not chain. A guttural shriek rattled the chamber, vibrating through the dark.
But pain only enraged it. The heavy sword from before came cleaving down, faster this time, the chain rattling as it guided the strike.
Kazel ducked under it, the wind of the blade ruffling his hair. Dust rained as the massive weapon embedded into stone. He didn't pause.
His foot drove into the ground, and he pivoted, unleashing a vertical strike that clanged against a short claw. Sparks exploded, illuminating for a breathless moment—thick scales, and an arm like a beast's, sinewed and clawed.
The weapon was wrenched free, dragged back into the dark.
The chain slithered again, coiling, wrapping along the ground. He heard it trying to circle behind him.
He turned in sync, tracing it with his ears, his smirk sharpening. He knew this rhythm—hesitation. Fear.
"I don't have all day," said Kazel.
The chamber rang with silence after his words. The chain slithered once, twice—hesitant. Then, from the abyss, a low sound trembled out.
Not a roar.Not a snarl.A growl—pitiful, quivering, the sound of a frightened dog.
The weight of the massive sword thudded to the ground, abandoned. The chain clinked against stone as it slackened, dragging in a frantic retreat.
Kazel's lips curled into a sharp smile. The fear had broken it.
In the pitch-black, the beast's steps scrambled deeper into the ruin, claws scraping against stone, echoing like nails down a coffin lid.
But Kazel was already in pursuit.
His boots pounded deliberately, rhythm like a war drum. He wanted the beast to hear him coming. To feel him closing in. Each stride narrowed the distance, his sword dragging briefly against the wall, sparking trails of light that flickered in the dark like tiny dying stars.
"You think you can run?" Kazel's voice thundered in the hollow depths. "I am the darkness you're fleeing from."
The air grew colder, the ruin swallowing sound, yet Kazel's presence filled it entirely. The beast's panting grew ragged, desperate, but no matter how deep it ran, the echo of footsteps stalked it relentlessly.
The chase was no longer predator versus prey.It was a hunt.And Kazel was the hunter.
The frantic echoes of the beast's retreat faded, replaced by a strange stillness. Kazel slowed his steps. Ahead, a faint pallor flickered through the dark. Not torchlight. Not fire.
Moonlight.
He moved calmly now, no longer chasing, but striding—each footfall deliberate, measured. The oppressive black gave way to silver beams pouring through a shattered ceiling, where ivy and stone had long since lost their battle with time.
There, in the pool of pale light, sat a throne. Crumbled, weatherworn, its edges devoured by moss.
Upon it rested a skeleton, slumped as though still clinging to its seat of power. Its robes were nothing but tatters, its fingers curled around an armrest like claws. Time had stripped away flesh and soul, but not the dignity of its final pose.
Kazel's sharp gaze narrowed. His eyes, blue and cold under the moon's touch, scanned every detail. Beside the throne, half buried in dust and rubble, lay a crown—upside down, as though discarded in contempt, its once-gilded surface dulled by centuries.
He stepped closer, his shadow swallowing the throne.
"…So this is what you were hiding," he muttered under his breath.
The scent of the beast still lingered, sharp and restless, coiling in the corners of the chamber. But Kazel's attention remained locked on the throne, on the relics of a ruler long dead, a sovereignty turned to bones.
Kazel's gaze lingered on the crown, weighing whether to reach for it. But before his hand could move, a sound cut the silence.
Crk.
The skeleton's neck shifted, vertebrae grinding together. Dust cascaded off its frame as the bones shivered. Slowly—deliberately—it began to rise from the throne.
Kazel's eyes narrowed, his muscles taut. His instincts screamed.Danger.
The air thickened with it, a suffocating weight that pressed against his skin like a predator's breath. The chamber itself seemed to groan, shadows lengthening as though retreating from what had awoken.
The skeleton straightened its back, hollow sockets locking on him, lit with a faint ember deep within. Its jaw hung, creaking open as if to voice something—but only a hollow hiss escaped.
Kazel lowered his stance, his hand brushing the hilt of his blade. His smirk was gone. His focus sharpened to a blade's edge.
The bones crackled louder as the figure took a step forward, the moonlight gleaming across its brittle frame, making it look less like a corpse and more like a revenant reborn.
For the first time since entering the ruin, Kazel's heart thumped—not with fear, but with thrill.
The bones rattled with each step, yet its jaw never truly moved. Still, a voice echoed—clear, invasive, not through the chamber but inside Kazel's skull.
"Are you… a reincarnated one?"
Kazel stiffened, his blade poised mid-draw. His blue eyes flickered, sharpened with disbelief for but a breath before narrowing into suspicion.