The torch-lit chamber was silent, save for the faint, rhythmic chanting echoing through the stony walls. The air carried the pungent scent of blood mixed with old incense. Every breath was heavy, every step resounded with foreboding. Dray's eyes narrowed as he took in the looming altar, the shadows shifting and dancing across its jagged surface.
He turned slightly toward the woman standing beside him, her expression one of disturbing reverence.
"Who is Ragyash?" Dray asked, his voice calm but laced with tension.
The woman didn't hesitate. "He is our god. The one who grants us strength, visions, and anything we desire. He is the chosen of the Sovereign."
Dray chuckled lightly, the sound earning a few glances of disapproval from the nearby zealots. Slowly, deliberately, he raised his hands in mock surrender.
"Kessa," he said without turning, "Let's not cause a scene. Surrender."
Kessa frowned but obeyed, lifting her hands with a subtle nod. Tyro hesitated for a moment, snarling under his breath before lowering his own stance.
They weren't surrendering out of fear. No, Dray had seen something else. Something the others could not perceive.
A system notification.
DING! AN ANCIENT BEING IS PRESENT WITHIN THIS HALL.
WARNING: LINGERING AURA OF SUPERNATURAL DETECTED. PROCEED WITH CAUTION.
His lips twitched. This wasn't the time to play hero.
With iron shackles clamped around their wrists, the trio was led like criminals through the center aisle of the blood-stained temple hall. Every step drew them closer to the grand altar — a towering monument shaped like an open maw. Flickering crimson flames lit up the runes etched into the walls. Statues of grotesque creatures loomed from every direction, eyes glowing with an unnatural light.
Then they saw him.
A figure draped in black sat motionless atop the altar. Darkness clung to him like a shroud, obscuring most of his features. But his presence was unmistakable. It wasn't merely power that radiated from him — it was hunger, ancient and vile.
DING! SYSTEM ANALYSIS COMPLETE. ENTITY IDENTIFIED: DESCENDANT PRIEST OF THE THIRSTERS RACE. WARNING: HIGH THREAT LEVEL.
Dray's pupils narrowed.
"System," he muttered internally, "Who are the Thirsters?"
THE THIRSTERS ARE ANCIENT SUPERNATURAL BEINGS WHO FEED ON THE BLOOD OF YOUNG MORTALS. THEY ARE AN IMMENSELY POWERFUL FORCE WITH DEVOTEES SPREAD ACROSS VARIOUS PLANETS.
Dray's heart sank.
"Then... is this Ragyash one of them?" he asked.
RAGYASH IS A DESCENDANT OF THE THIRSTERS' PRIEST CLASS. HIS ROLE IS TO COLLECT BLOOD TRIBUTES FOR HIS SOVEREIGN. HOWEVER, BASED ON LOCATION AND CURRENT ESSENCE LEVEL, HE IS BELIEVED TO BE AN IMPURE DESCENDANT.
Impure or not, the danger was very real.
Ragyash stirred.
Though his face remained hidden beneath the cowl of shadows, his glowing eyes pierced the gloom. They swept over Dray and Kessa before pausing on the third figure.
"Remove his cloak," he commanded.
Two zealots stepped forward, grabbing Tyro. With a sharp yank, they pulled away the tattered cloak covering his frame.
The moment Tyro's pale, scarred skin came into view, a tremor ran through the chamber.
Ragyash stiffened.
Only Dray noticed his reaction — a flicker of surprise, quickly masked.
The two locked eyes.
For the first time, the darkness around Ragyash seemed to waver.
"A... Draugr?" he whispered.
His gaze shifted back to Dray.
"Then... you must be... a Nightwalker."
A grin slowly curved Dray's lips.
"Perfect! Perfect!! Perfect!!!..." Ragyash hissed, standing to his full height, his tattered robe falling open slightly to reveal veins pulsing with dark energy. "You have no idea how rare your blood is. With it, I will rise above this cursed post. I will be granted a seat among the true descendants. I will finally leave this rotting star."
"Hello, Thirster," Dray greeted, his voice calm but firm.
Ragyash froze.
"You... know what I am?" he asked, disbelief etched into every syllable.
Dray took a step forward, smiling faintly. "Yes. A descendant of the priest class, tasked to fetch blood for your masters. But not a true one. You're impure. That's why you need mine, right? To cleanse your bloodline."
Ragyash snarled.
"Enough! MEN, TAKE THEM DOWN!"
The cultists began advancing, weapons drawn, eyes wild with fervor.
Dray didn't blink.
He spoke one word.
"Kill."
Tyro reacted instantly, his limbs twisting unnaturally as he dropped into a crouch. His fingers extended into claws, his eyes glowing with a dark red sheen. He launched into the crowd like a predator, tearing through the zealots with terrifying ease.
"Dray, go for that thing," Kessa shouted as she summoned twin daggers from her sleeves. "We'll hold them off."
Dray nodded. "Be careful," he said.
He sprinted forward, the floor cracking beneath his feet.
Ragyash raised his arms, summoning a swirling sphere of darkness between his palms.
"Do you think you can fight me just because I'm impure?!" he roared.
Dray didn't slow down. "I'll never know unless I try."
"Then TRY IT!" Ragyash charged.
The two forces collided.
A shockwave exploded outward, sending rubble and blood-soaked debris flying.
Dray's blade met Ragyash's palm. The dark energy in his enemy's body flared, pushing Dray back.
But the Nightwalker was unfazed. He adjusted his stance mid-air, landing on the altar steps.
Ragyash raised his hand, and pillars of shadow erupted from the ground. Dray evaded, weaving through the attacks with supernatural grace. His agility stat was no joke — it let him dance through the shadows.
DING! SYSTEM ADVICE: TARGET'S CORE IS IMBALANCED. RECOMMENDED STRATEGY: STRIKE AT THE LEFT ABDOMEN WHERE ESSENCE IS THIN.
Dray's eyes gleamed.
He ducked under a clawed swipe, rolled, and lunged forward. His rusted circuit knife glowed faintly as it sliced across Ragyash's side. The creature screamed.
"You insect!"
Ragyash's form began to shift. His limbs elongated. His spine cracked as wings tore through his robe. Fangs grew from his maw.
"I will devour you whole!"
Dray backed away, evaluating. His heart was pounding, but his mind was calm.
DING! PHANTOM REAPER SKILL ACTIVATED.
He vanished, leaving behind only a blurred afterimage.
Ragyash looked around wildly. "Coward! Come out!"
Dray appeared behind him, slashing down. The blade scraped across the Thirster's back, drawing thick black blood.
The ancient creature roared, spinning with unnatural speed, claws missing Dray by inches.
Meanwhile, Kessa and Tyro were carving through the cultists. Kessa's movements were graceful and lethal. Tyro was a blur of death, his monstrous form tanking blows that would shatter bones.
But the tide wasn't slowing. More zealots emerged from hidden chambers, chanting dark hymns, their eyes glowing with fanaticism.
Dray and Ragyash continued their brutal duel, each strike testing the other's strength and endurance.
"You think you're strong," Ragyash growled, panting. "But you're still just a child!"
"Maybe," Dray replied, blood trailing from his arm. "But I'm not alone."
The chamber shook as Tyro smashed another group into the walls.
Kessa leapt beside Dray, parrying an incoming shadow tendril.
"Focus on him!" she barked. "I'll guard your blind spot!"
Dray nodded.
DING! NIGHT ADAPTATION PASSIVE TRIGGERED: VISION ENHANCED. MOVEMENT SPEED BOOSTED BY 30%.
The final phase of the battle had begun — and the outcome would determine much more than just survival.