The growl shook the tunnel.
Vael slowed. The air felt thick, wrong—like the stone itself was breathing.
Lira raised her bow. "That's not a soldier."
The stranger stopped. His voice low. "No. Worse."
Something moved ahead.
A slow breath. A slither. The walls trembled.
Then—eyes.
Dozens of them. Pale. Empty. Staring from the dark.
Vael barely reacted in time.
A monster lunged from the shadows. Huge. Rotting. Limbs too long. No face—just a hole where one should be.
Lira fired. Her arrow hit—but the thing didn't care.
The stranger struck next. His blade cut deep—but it kept coming.
Vael raised his hand. Shadows surged. Tendrils wrapped the creature's arms and legs.
It struggled. Then, with a snap, broke free.
Lira cursed. "That's not normal."
The man backed away. "It's Echo-Touched."
Vael froze. He knew that word.
Relics could twist the world. Sometimes, they twisted living things too.
The beast screamed. The tunnel cracked. Dust rained down.
And behind them—footsteps.
The Gravehounds had caught up.
Trapped.
Vael closed his eyes.
No choice.
The crown whispered louder. He let go.
Shadows climbed his arms. His breath slowed. Cold. Calm.
The beast lunged.
Vael met it head-on.
A blade of black steel formed in his hand.
He struck once.
Darkness ripped through the thing. It shrieked—then rotted in place. Flesh melted. Bones snapped.
It died fast.
Silence fell.
The stranger stared. "You're not human, are you?"
Vael said nothing.
The soldiers were coming.
He turned, black blade still burning.
This time, he wouldn't run.