Recap of Chapter 7:
Ka'roth fought Gral'thar, a titan-beast leading a rival horde. Their battle tore the plains apart until Ka'roth killed Gral'thar by breaking his neck and tearing his throat. He absorbed Gral'thar's essence, growing larger with metallic scales streaked in glowing lines. His wings expanded to blot out the sun. Both hordes merged into one—nearly 400 beasts strong—making Ka'roth the undisputed Apex of the First Era. Yet the whispers warned: "The eyes watch closer now. The Abyss stirs."
---
The March of the Apex
The plains lay silent in Ka'roth's wake. His horde stretched for miles, a tide of claws, fangs, wings, and muscle. His metallic-scaled body gleamed in the sun, glowing lines tracing across his chest and wings like marks of power.
Every beast obeyed without hesitation. Raptors darted in front as scouts. Heavy tusked grazers trampled paths clear. Winged predators circled above, watching for threats.
Ka'roth's roar carried far across the land, warning all: the Apex had come.
---
Crossing the Stone Divide
Ahead loomed the Stone Divide, a wall of jagged cliffs that split the land. Few beasts dared cross it—it marked the border into the unknown. Ancient scent trails hinted at predators far deadlier than any Ka'roth had faced.
He stood at the cliff's base, wings folding tightly against his back. His glowing eyes scanned the towering stone. His horde halted behind him, restless but waiting.
Ka'roth leapt.
With one powerful beat of his massive wings, he soared up the cliffs, landing on the high ridge. His shadow stretched far across the land. The horde climbed after him, some scaling rock walls with claws, others flying or leaping across narrow ledges.
Beyond the Stone Divide lay a strange land—a ashen wasteland with blackened soil, twisted dead trees, and rivers of thick, dark water. The air itself was colder, heavier.
And faintly… something moved in the distance.
---
The First Abyssal Sign
Ka'roth's nostrils flared. A scent unlike any beast he knew filled the air—cold, sharp, unnatural. His claws dug into the dirt as a low growl rumbled in his chest.
The whispers came again, louder than before:
"He sees you."
Ka'roth spun sharply, his gaze scanning the horizon. Far off, across the black plain, a shape stood. Tall. Thin. Wrong.
It didn't move. It didn't breathe. Yet its faceless head tilted ever so slightly toward him.
The beasts in his horde shifted uneasily, growls turning to whines. Even the fiercest predators lowered themselves to the ground, trembling.
Ka'roth snarled, stepping forward, wings flaring wide. His roar split the sky. The shape… vanished.
---
The Blood Marsh
Ka'roth led his horde onward into the Blood Marsh, where red mist hung low and the ground oozed dark water with every step. Here, new predators lurked—things with long segmented bodies and too many legs, their eyeless heads rising from the muck.
Ka'roth struck first.
He lunged at the nearest creature, slamming it into the mud. His claws ripped its shell open with ease. Its strange black blood sprayed hot across his chest, sizzling faintly against his glowing scales. He tore its head free and roared, his horde surging forward.
The marsh erupted into battle. The segmented creatures fought savagely, but Ka'roth's army overwhelmed them. Raptors darted through shallow waters, striking at their joints. Winged beasts dove from above, pinning prey down for tusked grazers to crush.
Ka'roth waded through it all, unstoppable. Every kill he made poured more energy into him. His glowing lines brightened, his body growing heavier with power.
---
The Watching Presence
As the battle ended, silence fell. The marsh waters stilled.
Then, from deep within the red mist, came a sound—a deep, echoing hum. The ground quivered faintly. Ka'roth raised his head, eyes narrowing.
"Closer… closer…" the whispers coiled like smoke in his skull.
The mist parted.
For a moment, Ka'roth saw it again: the tall faceless shape, standing at the edge of sight. This time, it didn't vanish. Its head tilted slowly, unnaturally, as if studying him.
Ka'roth roared, his voice like thunder, challenging it. His horde roared with him.
The shape raised one thin arm and pointed—directly at Ka'roth. Then it sank backward into the mist, dissolving like smoke.
---
Abyssal Hunger
Ka'roth's claws sank deep into the mud, his wings flaring. Something primal stirred deep within his chest—not fear, but recognition. Whatever that thing was, it wasn't just watching.
It was calling.
The glowing marks on his body pulsed brighter, answering the call instinctively. His horde whimpered, uneasy under the weight of the unseen presence.
Ka'roth turned sharply and roared to silence them. His voice rang out, commanding dominance over even their instinctive terror. The beasts obeyed, bowing low.
He would not retreat. Not now. Not ever.
---
The March Continues
Ka'roth raised his head high, staring deep into the mist where the shape had stood. He spread his wings wide, his metallic scales glinting faintly even in the dim light of the cursed marsh.
"If you watch, then watch closely," he growled under his breath.
Then he moved forward. His horde followed. The march continued—into the heart of the unknown, toward the source of the whispers, toward the Abyss itself.
Far behind them, the plains lay silent. The First Era had shifted again. The Apex now hunted not beasts… but something far older.
---