"You buried me in silence. I return with screams."
The living world breathed again — but it was not the same.
Not after the gate tore open.
A ripple of darkness cracked through the Veil between life and death, splitting a mountain in the northern wastes and staining the skies above the capital a deep, unnatural crimson.
In the heart of a ruined battlefield far from the Empire's gaze, a circle of black flame erupted from the earth. Soldiers stationed at Fort Halrow screamed as shadows tore through the air like blades.
From the center, he stepped out — cloaked in smoke and crowned in death.
Kael Varian had returned.
The Hollow King walked over frost-laced soil. The world groaned beneath his presence. Every step exhaled cold. Every breath curled with spectral mist. His armor pulsed with soulfire, and behind him trailed flickers of whispers — voices of kings long forgotten.
"Alarm the citadel!" a knight screamed from the tower wall. "We're under attack—!"
But it was too late.
Kael raised a single hand. The staff of bone cracked with violet lightning — and the gate to Fort Halrow exploded inward. Not burned. Erased.
From the rubble, shadows surged forward like wolves — Hollow Wraiths, summoned by the Crown. Creatures born from Kael's vengeance. Once kings. Now servants.
They tore into the garrison. Screams echoed. Swords clashed steel against nothing. Arrows passed through smoke and struck allies instead.
Kael moved through the chaos like a storm given form — no hesitation, no mercy.
One captain rushed him. "You're dead! You were executed—!"
Kael caught the man's blade mid-swing, eyes glowing ash-violet. "I was betrayed."
With a surge of shadow, he slammed the captain into the wall, stone shattering from the impact. The soldier's body went limp — soul sucked dry.
Another tried to flee.
Kael raised his staff — and the earth obeyed. Black tendrils erupted from the ground and pulled the man under, as if the dirt itself hungered for blood.
Minutes passed. Then silence fell.
Not a single enemy stood.
Kael looked to the horizon — toward the Empire.Toward Calrix.
His voice rumbled like thunder wrapped in flame. "They will know I've returned."
Behind him, the last of the garrison — a trembling, wide-eyed young scribe — hid beneath an overturned wagon.
Kael approached. The boy flinched.
"W-what are you?" he stammered.
Kael crouched, his tone cold, final. "A memory they tried to erase."
He rose and walked on, shadows retreating to his steps, leaving behind only ruin.
Above, the sky cracked. Ravens scattered.
The Hollow King marched.
And war followed.
To be continued…