Dawn never fully broke over Duskfall that day.
A heavy mist clung to the streets like mourning cloth. The sun, hidden behind the thick grey haze, bled only a dim light across the rooftops. It felt like the air itself had paused—waiting.
Altharion stood atop the cathedral ruins, cloak billowing in the unnatural wind. The obsidian ring Selene had given him now adorned his right hand. He traced the runes absentmindedly, sensing the faint restriction woven into its magic.
It didn't offend him.
It grounded him.
Selene was wise.
Perhaps even wiser than she knew.
Outside the Forgehouse - A New Threat Emerges
A rumble echoed through the ground. Subtle at first, then louder. Disciples rushed from training pits. Glyphs lit up around the perimeter.
Altharion's senses flared.
"Shields up," he commanded. "Do not engage unless I say so."
A tear in the air ripped open thirty meters from the forgehouse gate.
From it emerged five figures—armored in mirror-black plating, faces covered by glyph-masks that shimmered like oil in water.
Each carried a staff carved from voidbone.
The Obsidian Choir.
Executioners of the Celestial Dome.
"You have violated every law written in heaven and ash," their leader declared. "By order of the High Pantheon, your sentence is death."
Altharion raised a brow. "You always send such poetic fools."
He stepped forward.
And the battle began.
The Streets of Duskfall - Chaos Unfolds
Energy exploded outward.
One moment, the street was still. The next, buildings were reduced to rubble, air ripped apart by sonic glyphs.
Altharion moved like liquid thought. Each spell he cast wove around the Choir's attacks, dismantling their wards mid-chant, repelling their curses with mirrored invocations.
But they had evolved.
He deflected a chain of light—only to be struck by a curse-layered shockwave that sent him crashing through a wall.
Blood spilled from his mouth.
He grinned.
"Finally... a challenge."
Inside the Forgehouse - Selene's Dilemma
Selene gathered the younger disciples, shielding them with a reinforced barrier. The ring's enchantment throbbed on her hand.
She felt it the moment the Choir had arrived: their magic didn't just kill—it silenced. It unraveled spells. Devoured will.
And Altharion... was slowing.
She turned to the others. "Keep the wards strong. If I fall, run."
Then she stepped outside.
Rooftop Duel - Altharion vs. the Choir Leader
The leader floated midair, unscathed, chanting in a language older than time.
Altharion hurled three glyph-lances—each one twisted mid-flight and dissolved.
"You think old magic can defeat what was forged from your ruin?" the leader mocked.
Altharion exhaled, slow.
"No. But I don't fight alone."
Selene landed beside him.
She didn't speak. Just reached for his wrist.
The obsidian ring flared.
A pulse of controlled magic burst forth, not suppressing his power—but channeling it.
Focused.
Stabilized.
Altharion's eyes glowed brighter.
"Thank you," he whispered.
Then cast a wordless spell that split the sky.
The Choir's leader screamed as his armor shattered, form unraveling into ribbons of darkness.
The remaining four retreated, vanishing into smoke.
Aftermath
The Forgehouse burned in silence. Not from the battle—but from within.
Altharion stood beside Selene, both breathing hard.
"You risked everything," he said.
She nodded. "So did you. Now maybe it's time we stop fighting alone."
He looked to the sky.
"Then we prepare. The gods will not wait."