The horn echoed again, sharp and cold, carrying through the tunnels beneath Horned Hill like a warning. Vaelrik stood still, one hand wrapped around the hilt of Tempest Fang, the storm-forged blade humming faintly with energy. Lightning flickered along its edge, a whisper of power held just below the surface.
The air was heavy, filled with dust and the lingering heat of the battle they had just survived. Smoke curled upward from broken stone, and the walls around him seemed to breathe with each gust of wind that slipped through the cracks.
Beside him, Karnyx shifted, the metal-bound beast silent but alert. His massive frame was still battered from the chains that had bound him, but his breath came steady now. Faint light glowed beneath the plates fused to his skin, not from pain this time, but from the bond they now shared.
Vaelrik took a breath and looked back the way they had come.
Skarn waited in the tunnel behind him, crouched low, eyes fixed on the shadows. The iron howler had torn through the forge's defenders with brutal precision, his claws still stained from the fight. Further back, Valgrin's flame glowed in the dark, steady and constant, while Zephyrion watched from above, perched near the ceiling with wings half-spread, lightning crackling in the air around him. Forge stood motionless behind them all, the chained beast silent for now, his gaze fixed ahead.
All of them were here.
Except one.
Mournroot had not entered the tunnels.
Vaelrik remembered the moment clearly. As the others had gathered to descend beneath Horned Hill, Mournroot had stayed at the edge of Menagerie Hold, where the land was already shifting beneath his feet. The decay beast had pressed his thorns deep into the scorched ground, reclaiming it with every step. He had not spoken, only watched as Vaelrik passed, eyes unreadable.
Decay did not belong underground.
Mournroot's power needed open land, soil that could be broken and renewed. Down here, in the stone corridors and dead air, his growth would falter. Worse, it might turn wild, uncontrolled, choking the tunnels in thorns and ash. Vaelrik had made the choice.
Mournroot stayed above. The rest followed him into the dark.
Now they waited, Karnyx at his side, the others just behind.
The horn sounded again, louder this time.
Karnyx shifted, claws scraping the stone floor. A low sound rumbled in his chest... not fear, but warning.
Vaelrik stepped forward, raising Tempest Fang slightly. The stormblade pulsed in his grip, ready.
Something was coming.
And it was not alone.
---
The ground pulsed beneath them.
Not shaking. Not cracking. Just a slow, steady beat, like the heartbeat of something buried deep below. Vaelrik paused, Tempest Fang still in hand, eyes fixed on the dark ahead.
Karnyx's breath grew heavy. "It's near."
Vaelrik glanced at him. "Another beast?"
Karnyx nodded. "Caged. Dying. Like I was."
Behind them, the others stepped forward. Skarn crouched low, eyes sharp. Valgrin's fire cast long shadows on the tunnel walls, while Zephyrion hovered above, wings half-folded. Forge remained silent, his chains slack but ready.
The tunnel narrowed, then widened again into a broad, hollow chamber. The air was colder here, the light strange... pale crystals glowed along the ceiling, casting a cold shimmer across the stone. At the far end, the floor dropped away into a wide pit, edges jagged, like the earth itself had been torn open.
Something moved near the pit.
Figures stepped out from the shadows... tall, thin things, their limbs too long, heads bowed. Their bodies gleamed like polished bone, but their movements were stiff, unnatural.
They were not beasts.
Not human.
Puppets.
Vaelrik took a step forward.
There were six of them, all identical, and each one bore a symbol carved into its chest... a cracked crown, split down the middle and scorched black. They stood side by side in front of the pit, unmoving.
Karnyx's voice was low. "Jailers."
Vaelrik glanced at him. "What?"
"They kept me bound," Karnyx said. "Not these exact ones. But the same kind. Puppets. Made to guard. To keep beasts like me from ever escaping."
Forge nodded slowly, stepping closer. "I've seen them before. Long ago. They don't speak. They don't think. They only follow orders."
"Whose orders?" Vaelrik asked.
Forge's eyes darkened. "Sovereigns."
The word sat heavy in the air.
The Sovereigns... other branded ones. Old powers who had taken control through force, who bound beasts instead of crowning them. Vaelrik didn't know how many there had been. But this proved they had left their mark.
The puppets didn't move.
But they didn't step aside either.
Skarn growled, teeth bared. Valgrin paced behind him, fire crackling in his throat.
Zephyrion drifted lower, lightning curling across his wings.
Vaelrik looked past the puppets to the pit beyond. The light was brighter there, flickering from crystals planted along the rim. He couldn't see what was inside, but he didn't need to.
He could feel it.
Something lived in that pit.
And it was barely holding on.
Karnyx took a slow step forward, breath tight. "I feel it. The beast below… it's fading."
Vaelrik didn't hesitate. He stepped toward the pit.
The puppets shifted instantly.
Their heads snapped up in unison, eyes glowing cold. Arms lifted, not to attack, but to block the path.
Vaelrik stopped.
He raised Tempest Fang, the stormblade humming with power. Lightning flickered along the edge, ready to strike.
"They're in the way," he said calmly.
"They won't move," Forge warned. "Not until we do something about it."
"Then we make them."
Karnyx growled, stepping beside Vaelrik. "We don't have time."
Skarn crouched, claws tensing.
Valgrin's fire spread across his shoulders, the ground beneath him starting to blacken.
Zephyrion let out a sharp cry overhead.
Vaelrik took a slow breath. "I'm done watching beasts suffer. I won't let them die in chains."
The puppets took a step forward, arms raised, blocking the path completely.
Vaelrik's eyes locked on the pit.
He could hear it now... a faint sound rising from below. A deep, strained breath, ragged and weak. The beast below was still alive.
Just barely.
Karnyx's voice was tight. "It's not like me. Bigger. Older. Power buried deep."
"Then we crown it," Vaelrik said.
Forge's chains slid into his hands, ready. "We fight."
The air tensed. The silence before a storm.
Vaelrik raised Tempest Fang.
"Break the jailers."
Skarn lunged.
Valgrin roared, fire pouring forward.
Zephyrion dove.
The chamber erupted into chaos.