The chamber split in half—Beacon light pulsing behind me, shadows bleeding outward in front of me. Malkoran's corpse lay broken on the stone, but what rose from it was worse.
A shape without flesh. A man-shaped void, stitched together from darkness and hate. His hollow white eyes locked on me as if he'd been waiting to rise again all along.
The voidblade hissed into existence in his grip, jagged edges trembling like it was alive.
My legs wanted to run. My chest locked up. I had already burned everything fighting the man, and now here was his ghost, stronger, sharper, unstoppable.
He stepped forward. The stone groaned under his weight, though he had none.
"You thought you ended me." His voice carried in echoes—hollow, like it came from inside my own skull. "You've only stripped away the husk."
I raised my sword, though my hands shook. I couldn't help it. Sweat slid down my temple, stinging my eye.
"Fine," I rasped, my throat raw. "Then I'll strip away what's left."
He lunged.
I barely got my blade up in time. The clash rattled my arms to the bone. Sparks hissed against stone. His strength was worse now—unnatural, pressing me back like a storm tide. My boots slid against the floor, every muscle screaming to hold on.
I shoved free, stumbling back. My breath tore out in gasps, ribs stabbing like fire. I needed air. I needed strength.
And that was when it hit me—leveling up. I had pushed through the fight before, hadn't taken the time to breathe it in.
My eyes flicked to the Beacon's glow. It pulsed with rhythm, like a heartbeat. My heartbeat.
"Now or never," I muttered, forcing my eyes shut even as Malkoran's shade circled.
The world shifted.
Level Up
Name: Chad Michael
Level: 12 → 13
Health: 190 → 210
Stamina: 160 → 175
Magicka: 120 → 150
Unspent Attribute Points: 3 → Allocated
+10 Health
+10 Stamina
+10 Magicka
Perk Points: 1 → Allocated
Restoration Novice → Apprentice (Healing spells restore more, cost less.)
The numbers bled into me like raw instinct. Breath filled my chest easier. The ache in my legs dulled. Magicka stirred in my veins—warm, sharp, burning to be used.
I opened my eyes.
Malkoran's shade was already on me. I rolled aside just as the voidblade carved into stone, the impact screaming sparks. I came up with my blade and struck back, the steel biting through shadow. It screamed—not a human sound, but a sound that shook the walls.
Light burst from the wound, small but real.
My heart kicked hard. That was it. Light. Steel alone wasn't enough, but if I pushed magicka into it—
I gritted my teeth and swung again, this time willing my magicka into the strike. My sword shimmered, faint lines of white crawling up its length. When it met the shade's arm, the limb tore away in smoke and light.
He staggered. His scream rose louder, shaking my bones.
"Meridia's pawn," he roared, voice breaking. "You shine like her—but light burns out. Always."
He surged again, faster now, his form unraveling at the edges as he threw himself at me. Our blades clashed, shadows ripping into the air like black fire. His attacks didn't slow, didn't falter. Every strike pressed harder, testing my fear as much as my strength.
I bled. My arm tore open from a glancing strike. My side burned from where the void grazed me. But I held. My sword burned brighter with every magicka-surge I forced into it, each hit carving more light through his endless dark.
But my stamina faltered. Magicka drained faster than I could keep it. My vision swam at the edges.
And Malkoran wasn't falling.
Not yet.
We circled near the Beacon. Its glow pulsed harder now, like it knew the fight balanced on a knife's edge. The statue above seemed to watch.
My legs shook. My blade dipped. My lungs clawed for air.
Malkoran saw it. He surged forward, voidblade aimed straight at my heart.
I barely brought my sword up—
And the chapter cuts there, at the clash, steel against void, light against shadow.