The Embermanes had packed their camps with brutal efficiency. War drums thudded through the hills like a pulse, and flame banners unfurled high in the ash-laden wind. Over two hundred warriors clad in obsidian armor and seared hide now marched under Kael's command—though they did not kneel, they followed.
Korran walked beside Kael, his hammer slung over one shoulder. "You're leading us to the Spine, aren't you?"
Kael nodded. "The Spire won't fall unless we sever its roots. And that means crossing the Black Spine."
Darric, riding slightly behind on a red-scaled beast gifted by the Embermanes, grunted. "That mountain range is cursed. Every scouting party we've sent there vanished. Some say the storms drink the soul."
Korran laughed. "Storms? Those are nothing. The real monsters are buried beneath."
Lyra, cloaked in flame-threaded garb now gifted by the Embermanes' weavers, flicked her gaze toward Kael. "Do you even know what you'll find there?"
Kael didn't answer immediately. His hand touched the Mark on his chest. The closer they drew to the Spine, the louder the hum became—like something ancient whispering from beneath the stone.
"I know something's waiting. And I know Malrik doesn't want us to reach it."
As the warband entered the deep ravines of Deadwind Hollow, the sky darkened. Fog drifted down like poison.
Without warning, shadowed figures erupted from the cliffs—tall, insectoid shapes with obsidian skin and glowing white eyes. Dozens, maybe more.
"Veilspawn," Lyra hissed, loosing arrows instantly.
Kael leapt from his mount, Ashrend already in hand. "Formation! Protect the rear!"
The Embermanes roared, forming a semi-circle. Darric met the first wave with a thunderous shield slam, his warblade carving a clean arc through a screeching creature.
Kael's blade sang.
"Riftfang!"
Ashrend cleaved through three of the creatures, a crimson ripple blasting the ground apart beneath them. More swarmed from the edges—some crawling, others hovering, their screeches like knives in the air.
Lyra climbed a ridge, loosing Sovereign-tipped arrows in a deadly rhythm.
Darric fought beside Kael, back to back.
"Too many," he shouted.
Kael narrowed his eyes, the Mark glowing as lightning cracked in his blood.
"Ashrend—Obliterate."
He stabbed the blade into the earth. Red lightning shot outward, a spiral of destruction that shredded through the Veilspawn ranks. Those not slain were staggered.
Korran charged through the smoke, swinging his hammer like a comet. "You said there'd be blood, Rivenhart! I like you already!"
The last creature screeched and lunged.
Kael flicked his wrist.
"Crimson Severance."
The final Veilspawn was cut from existence.
Deadwind Hollow fell silent once more.
Smoke rose from the dead, and the scent of burnt bone lingered.
Kael cleaned Ashrend in silence.
Darric sat heavily on a stone, blood dripping from his brow. "This was no scouting pack. They were waiting."
Lyra scanned the cliffside. "We're being tracked."
Kael's eyes burned. "Then let them follow."
He looked to the horizon, where the Black Spine Mountains loomed like jagged teeth.
"They'll see what happens when you chase fire into the storm."